5: Dark reaches and darker secrets

Zephyrus sat upon a throne of Everfree oak engraved with runic symbols. Located at the tail end of the, now ornate looking, gothic throne room was this seat of sovereignty. It was perched atop a twelve step throne stoop. This royal looking area is located at the very heart of the castle. Looking down in disdain, Zephyrus sneered at his subordinates.

“So whose unintelligent idea was it to send a single pawn after the heretic?” Alcipper bows her head in reverence before speaking.

“Mine, your liege. Permission to speak free?” There was slight a waver in her voice as she spoke. Stoppage remained statuesque as usual. His heavy breathing audible by the wind breaking against the equipped helm.

“Fine. You better have a good excuse as to why the heretic is not dead or so help me; I will throw you to the slaves hogtied.” She flinched at his harsh words knowing full well he meant them.

She lifts her head up but continues to downcast her gaze “Her service recordz were very good. I wanted to test her abilities before promoting her to knighthoods...It was mistake on my part.” She anxiously prods at the cobblestone floor with a fore-hoof knowing full well what happens to those found guilty of indirect insubordination. Zephyrus seems to ponder on the idea for some time; casting a crimson glare from Stoppage to Alcipper then back again.

“Fine, I’ll overlook this mishap but you had both pull you shit together. I will not have another failure go unpunished.” Zephyrus leans forward a bit “So Stoppage, What do you suggest?” He asked almost expectantly; as if he knew Stoppage was formulating a plan already.

Stoppage stepped forward “Why not sent that strange little fella? He’sa Queen and whatnot. Time’fer him to do some duties if ya ask me. All he does is watch’da excavation crew. I think little’ol Al here could take over fer a day or two while he gets that heretic.” Alcipper’s eye visibly twitched when he called her by that dreaded name yet she knew she was in no position to backtalk.

Seeming pleased with this idea Zephyrus sat back in his chair and made a small waving motion with his sky-blue hoof “Have him get it done then, and tell him to try and keep her alive. I’d like to talk to this zebra before he has his way with her.”

“Yes my lord!” The two shout in unison with a bow after. With a quickened pace the two trot out of the throne room and toward the understructure of the castle. The catacombs were a maze of tunnels reinforced by wood gathered from the everfree. Most of the slaves that are brought to the area are send to the depths. The slaves, foals and adults alike, are only given basic food and water as a form of ‘reward’ for hard work ethic. Though they all come from different walks of life; the slaves are all equal in the ever growing expanses of these mines. As Stoppage and Alcipper walk the dimly lit shafts they speak no words. In private they bicker but view of the slaves they are a team of tyrants whose very presence causes the tunnel foals to hide in the shadows of shadows in the hope that they are not seen. On more than one occasion has Stoppage and Alcipper had to make an example. Stoppage recently did so with a High society mare who complained about the filth under her breath. Many hallways later the two come to a crude lift. An elevator of sorts. The chamber that contains the lift is twice as wide as the platform, as to allow the counter weight room to move. The large counterweight is moved with a pulley system that is operated by a team of slaves and two overseers. As the two rivals descend further down it only becomes darker. The only light located at these levels are that of unicorn or of bio-luminescent fungi. Once they reach the bottom they are escorted by a unicorn pawn who can not only light the way but also navigate the tunnels. The slaves at this depth call this place “the gateway to hell.” They call it this because a majority of the tunnels were already here from ancient times; long before the rule of the sisters and longer before the rule of Discord. Due to the low visibility and limited routes, the slaves are not chained. If they try to escape they will get lost in the darkness and die or run into one of the few ways out, which are heavily guarded. To this day the little remains of foals and other ponies are discovered in the depths of unexplored caverns by mapping teams, any that are found are haphazardly thrown into the, ever growing, bone pile. Alcipper and Stoppage are led to a large well lit chamber. In this cavern was the main regiment of the dig team; about 30 ponies, most being slaves. Only a few tents were set up. The slaves slept out on the cave floor in sleeping rolls. The biggest tent was about the size of a normal house and it only took up one tenth of the cave floor; reaching halfway up to the ceiling despite being five meters tall. It appears as if all the stalagmites and stalactites had been removed. At the far end of the area was an archway that was made of, or perhaps coted in, thick layers calcium and other minerals that formed dark crystalline structures. Stoppage and Alcipper enter the tent to find that it is well lit and much bigger on the inside than the outside. There are ponies with maps discussing longitudes and latitudes, a pony scouring old tomes with her magic, and a few others talking to Sophronius. He is a strange pony known for his little quirks. This earth pony had mane of Light brown and coat of khaki. A satchel was strapped to his side with a luminous tablet that peaked out. Once he caught wind of Alcipper and Stoppage his expression lightened drastically.

“Wunderbar! Now that is vhat I am talking about! A couple of go-getters!” He trots up to the two with glee “Zo you are here to help vith the dig I presume! Great! Stoppage I need you to-” Before he could continue Alcipper cut in

“No no sweetie, your help iz needed ya?” She says with a soft smile, clearly trying to ease the mood. Sophronius’ smile slowly fades.

“Scheiße…vell vhat do you need?” Stoppage just stood there silent.

Alcipper steps forward “You retrieve target alive. Will you do this?” Sophronius physically groans “Please Sophronius? For me?” She says with a bat of her eyes.

“Okay, but you must break though the vall by the time I get back. Do ve have an agreement?” There was a gleam of hope that twinkled in his eye

“Anyzng for your darling” She replied taking another step closer, crossing her forelegs in the presses and batting her eyes once more; leaving them half lidded. Stoppage withheld a bellowing laugh.G’damn she it really goin all out. Stupid bitch. If she ain’t a rock or plant he ain’t interested

“Wunderbar! I’ll get a team ready, my researchers vill fill you in on the archvay.” With that said Sophronius rushed off leaving Alcipper bewildered.

“He is never gonna notice ya” Stoppage snickered

Alcipper Spun around and shot Stoppage a sinister sneer “Shut your god’s damned mouth! Waste of genitalia is what you are!” She hissed

“Whow, struck a nerve did I?” He said, still withholding his laughter.

“Only mare nerve you’ll strike!” She was fuming at this point. Alcipper was flushing so hard her red stripes were barely visible.

He looked down and appeared to appraise his armored hoof “My my little al, Might bit frustrated are we? I’d tell ya to get rid of some sexual frustration but ya kinda got rejected…”

All that was audible from Alcipper was “Why you! I’ll kill- I swear!” Before she stormed out of the tent.

“Haha! Oh wow! I’ll be payin’ for that later but t’was worth every second.” At this point all eyes were on what had just unfolded. All of the researchers were in silent awe at the sight of a knight antagonizing a Queen, Alcipper of all Queens.

As night cast its dark quilt across the land Zecora arrives at her hut with 47 in tow. He had decided to take refuge in the crate with the body of the would-be assassin to avoid any situation with Rarity or, god forbid, Sweetie Belle. Zecora stayed reserved in commenting on the past few hours. Slowly and silently she pulled the cart along the lightly traveled everfree trails. What madness consumed me? Why so bold? I could have ruined our friendship with something that rash... Regrets and doubt churned into a sickly concoction of uncertainty and anxiety “We have arrived...” Zecora says with hesitation.

“Good. That was longer than expected.” 47 lifts the lid and climbs off the cart. “The body is still limp. Something is keeping it from decaying.”

“Ah, so unicorn magic is behind this. With a brew this spell I will dismiss.” Zecora said, undoing the harness that bound her to the cart. As she searched her shelves for the right potion 47 set off to a site not far from the dwelling, body in tow, and dug a shallow hole that was 4 feet long. Zecora soon arrives with a vile of viscous liquid. Uncorking the cylindrical jar she sprinkled the fluid onto the spellbound corpse. The pale skin of the mystery pony seems to evaporate into the air, leaving a pungent Ozone smell in its place. A fragile looking earth mare’s body now rests on the ground in place of the mannequin. 47 gently transfers the tan body to the grave and brushes her gray mane out of her face.

“Requiescant in pace.” 47 carefully shovels dirt onto the pony assassin until she is covered by a small mound. Zecora takes notice of his strange behavior as some prayers are muttered under Anon’s breath. When he finishes he gives Zecora a look. Averting her gaze she ushers him back inside.

“Come now, we cannot be out after dark.” As they went back inside Zecora felt as if his eyes were going to drill a hole into the back of her skull. I must make up for my actions, I cannot bear this guilt. I must make it up to him somehow. Midway through the night Zecora finds herself tossing and turning in bed. Her mind racing with possibilities and potential situations. I may have an idea on how to make it up to Anon though it could backfire…

47 sits at the far side of the storage room, right beneath the window. The gleam of a large coin flickers in the shade of night as he thinks of his past back on earth. All the people he has killed. The people he has helped. The promises he has made. This world may be new but- *knock knock* “It’s Zecora, are you up?”

“If I was sleeping I would be up now.” He rose to his bare feet, slipping the coin into his pocket. Zecora is shocked when he opens the door, only dressed in his pants. She averts her eyes for only a moment buck up zecora, this is not for you. You need to do this for him. Looking back up at him Zecora remains steadfast even if her body does not wish to cooperate.

“I was just thinking you might want to sleep in a bed tonight. So I offer my bed if that is alright? I will sleep on the floor not far from sight.” She said with a soft smile

“This is quite alright Zecora. I am fine in here.”

“Is that so? Is my room too big for you? Do blankets offend you?” She inquires with a sly little smile

“It is not th-” before he could finish Zecora cut him off with a step forward

”Are you too good for my belongings now Mr. Anon? If you needed a meal should I go out and by you one now? I would hate to offend you by graciously offering you homemade food. My work is clearly subpar for your high standards.” She grins wildly knowing full well Anon has fallen into her trap.

Grudgingly 47 nods his head. “Your things are just fine Zecora. I did not wish to impose but if you insist I cannot refuse.” Zecora leads 47 to her room. It is filled with an assortment of strange objects and grisly masks. The bed is rather large for a pony, maybe even large for a human. It is covered in different leopard skins and two plush looking pillows.

“Ah, I should have cleaned first.” Zecora scoots various things into a corner “If I keep this up I may work up a thirst.” She muttered. Looking back up Zecora notices that Anon is still standing in the doorway. “Come on in. To be in a mare’s room is no sin” She says teasingly. 47 walks around the room, appraising all the decorations. He knows that the knick-knacks that one keeps means a great deal about who they really are. He somewhat expected this from Zecora. “Go on Anon, the bed is yours for the night.” Cautiously 47 sits on the edge of the bed. It was actually really comfy. The pelts soft and cozy. 47 could not help but stretch his arms. This let out various cracks that caught Zecora’s attention. She could not help but notice his toned muscular form. Don’t get too rash Zecora. You just got him all settled…then again asking never hurts.

“So have you ever had a massage Anon?” Zecora blurts out without a second thought.

“No I have not. I would rather not have my first one be from a pony either. ” 47 said in an attempt to shut the idea down.

“Good to know.” Zecora said with bright eyes. This expression caught 47 off guard but he was not oppose to it. With a sigh he laid back to relax. The bed shifted as Zecora hopped up on the edge. “Can I help you Zecora?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, lay on your stomach please.” She said moving to the foot of the bed.

“No pony massages Zecora.”

She lets out a small giggle “I know. I am a zebra; not a pony, silly. Now rollover please. Your tension I wish to ease.” 47 groans but complies. Zecora sits right on 47’s lower back “I Am not too heavy am I?”

“No, but this is very uncomfortable.” Zecora just smiles and starts working on his latissimus dorsi. Though Zecora knows little about his anatomy she is confident in the skill of her hoofs to seek out the best spots and the best way to work the tension out. After a little trial and error Zecora finds a pace that Anon has a hard time disagreeing with. Several times 47 tells her that it is fine but Zecora insisted on getting every ‘knot and every spot’ on his back. As 47 teeters on the verge of sleep he feels Zecora slump over onto his back. Zecora. You better be awake. The soft snoozing of the zebra alerts him to his sealed fate. 47 tries to wiggle out from under her. The moment he moves out of her grasp she grapples 47 and pulls herself closer. 47 attempts a few more escapes only to find her vice grip getting tighter with each attempt. Fine…have it your way Zecora.

Zecora wakes before the crack of dawn with non-audible yawn. She notices that 47 is still in the bed with her. The overwhelming joy she felt could not be spoken, it was something else entirely. She snuggled up to him only to feel his muscles tense a bit. I will give him time, soon he will be mine~ Zecora fixed breakfast while Anon snoozed away. It had been years since he had slept on an actual bed. It was a few hours before midday when 47 woke. Groggy. Another new feeling. One he hated almost instantaneously. It was not long before he found his way to his feet and on his way to the main room. To his surprise he found Zecora in the most peculiar of ways. She was balancing on a bamboo stave. Her head planted firmly, she balanced upside down in a meditative state.

“So, I take it this is why your mane is always standing?” Zecora cracks an upside-down smile.

“You are in good spirits Mr. Anonymous”

“Just another day in paradise Zecora.”

“Really now, and why is that?” She said with eagerness, cracking an eye open

“Remind me to teach you about sarcasm.”

Zecora’s smile vanishes “I know of sarcasm. Are you familiar with a staff upside your head?”

“Aren’t you a little small to be making such threats? It is a bit beyond your reach.” He said with a smug grin.

Both of Zecora’s eyes were open at this point, fixated on 47 “Well once I hit you your long legs you will go down. Then I smack you in the head.”

“You are having too much fun with this Zecora.” 47 said with a smile, crossing his arms.
Zecora faltered to the side; almost rolling off the tip of the staff. With the grace that would be expected of a feline Zecora landed on her hooves. The stave remained vertical before Zecora plucked it from the ground. Needless to say 47 was quite impressed. A maneuver like that would have been extremely difficult for him if not impossible. Zecora placed the staff behind the front entry. She turned to him with a sly smile

“What’s the matter Anon? Cat got your tongue?”

47 quirked an eyebrow “Trying to impress me now Zecora?”

She shakes her head a bit and giggles “Get dressed so we can go out. We should look for your missing items today. The weather is favorable.” She motions to her saddle bag that sat across the room. “As you can see I am prepared. Now we must get you squared.”

Armed only with the basic of cloths and a fiber wire the two set out Northwest, were Zecora first had encountered 47. The way there 47 weaves a grand lie about how he lost his artifacts, silverballers, when caught off guard by the manticore. He describes a jagged butte that was taller that the tree line and that had no foliage growing of it.

“I have heard of this place before. Scary tales that fillies adore.”

“What kind of tales?”

Zecora smiles “Interested in stories for foals?”

He scoffs “Not that Zecora. I am interested in preexisting information about this place.”

She sighs “You just took all the fun out of the story…”

The walk in silence for a few moments, ducking under low hanging vines and limbs, before 47 speaks up “You going to tell me or not?”

“Only if you let me tell you my way. After all, we are quite far away.”

47 lets out and exasperated sigh “Fine Zecora. Tell me the story.” Zecora let out a tiny squee of glee.

“One upon a time in a kingdom no so far away lived two sisters who ruled over the known lands. From the great mountains through the tangled forests and to the grand sands. There rule was just and fair. Few only hoped to compare. But those who would revel in misery and social sickness opposed. Soon the darkness joined with them and together they imposed. Species band together in a vile dusk that coated them in a corruption that seeped into the soul. Though they had flesh that was forever their will was weak and thus swallowed in whole. Any attempt to overrule the sisters was quickly rooted. Leaving all who would oppose peace muted. Thus the darkness seeped back into its home, taking it new twisted solders to toil away eternity. After so long the creatures began to desire some kind of modernity. Tunnels, buildings, and even towns were constructed under the earth. It is said that once the sisters are not more the darkness will return and all its twisted creations it will unearth. This very butte is said to be one of the markers for a thoroughfare. It is called an Archuleta Mesa In my native language.”

By stories end the butte was in sight. It was a little more eerie than he had remembered. Zecora’s story must be getting to me... “That was pretty grim for a foal’s tail.”

As they approach the sheer Cliffside Zecora mutters something under her breath. 47 ignores it and begins searching the outer wall for any sign of an entrance. If memory serves right it should be on the side they arrived at.

“Anon, what are you doing? I thought you said they were at the forest clearing”

“No, that is where the manticore was. I hid from it in here.” He said continuing to search the wall. Another lie…he could not even bare to turn around. Something inside 47 felt twisted when he lied to Zecora. What is wrong with me? This never happened before. Is this some kind of magic maybe? After visually searching proved fruitless he resorted to pressing on the stone wall with his hands. Zecora continued to trot back and forth looking at all the little signs. It seemed as if the plant life actually avoided the butte. No grass grew near it and were slanted away, clearly growing away from the rock faces. Something was very wrong here.

“Anon, we should not stay for long”

47 looks to her “What do you see Zecora?”

“This place seems to repel life. As if it causes the plants strife.” 47 steps away from the bluff and approaches Zecora

“So what is the best course of action?” He sounded almost anxious.

This is not a good place. Something about the rock-face. We should leave but I don’t want to let him down. One last look around then we must head back to town. “I think one more round about will be a safe bet. We must be quick to not encounter a threat.” 47 nodded and the two walked the perimeter of this large butte, staying close to one another. They soon found a large gash in the side of the western near a crag. The jutting wall must have concealed it naturally. The gash was actually a narrow path that led into the butte. Zecora pulled out a lantern of sorts filed with a strange illuminating liquid. The moment that light touched the inner walls they seemed to push away, widening the pathway.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Zecora looked back with a hint of worry in her eyes. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. Let’s just see how far it goes and head back if things get too strange.” She gave 47 a meek nod and continued down the stone aisle. They soon came to a small cavern, much like the one 47 remembered. In the center of the room lay 47’s silverballers in an X-shape, one atop the other. The small chamber swells outward as the two enter. Zecora watches in amazement as 47 thoroughly inspects the silverballers; marveling his ability to handle them with such dexterity. “Not a spec of dirt on or in them. Every piece is in place. Eight plus One mechanical hallow points in each. They were in here for days and not even damp. Zecora, I have what I came for, let’s get out of here.” Zecora nods and lead him back the way they had come in. It must be tough to carry everything in your mouth. Then again Not having fingers is commonplace in this world. Once out, Zecora lets out a sigh of relief and withdrew her lantern.

“That was not a natural place. I am glad we were able to make haste.” She was still visibly shaken by strange happenings.

“My thanks for sticking by my side Zecora. Had you turned back; I do not think I would have been able to traverse very far.”
Zecora looked up at him with tentative eyes “But of course Anon, that is what friends are for. I-I just fear that you may not want to stay with me anymore…”

“What makes you say that Zecora?”

“Well…” She began to nervously prod the dirt with a hoof and averts her gaze. “I just worry you will leave now that you have your things. I fear that you will leave, and what that brings.”

“Not sure I understand Zecora. Could you go into details?” He said, crouching down to her level.

“Well, you know how I live in the forest right?”

“I thought this much was obvious.” 47 said flatly

Zecora clears her throat “Well it is not by my choice. I don’t mind the pony-folk one bit but the mind me. They don’t like me because they don’t understand. They don’t want to understand.”

This brought a change to 47’s face. One of concern. “How could they not like you Zecora?”

“Well, I am different. I talk different. I like different things. Most of all” She holds up a foreleg “I am striped.”

“Zecora, I don’t see how any of this should matter.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “You understand how things should be; more importantly you understand me…” Zecora hung her head in despair, knowing full well he will be leaving after this display. A hand gently guided her head back up via a knuckle curled under her chin. 47 Lifted her stair to his own.

“Zecora, if you wanted me to stay; all you need do is ask.”

“Would you stay with me a while longer? Maybe help me become stronger?”

“I would be honored Zecora. But…”

“But?” She said with a twinkle in her eye.

“You must follow all directions I give you when you train. This means killing to avoid detection”

Her stomach dropped at the prospect of taking another’s life. Even if they were bad. “I can try anon. And will try at the very least.”

47 moves his hand from her chin and into her mane. Scratching lightly, he smiles “Just try not to do any weird pony stuff”
She grins brightly, the scratching was heavenly. Zecora felt as if she could die a happy mare in that moment “Ummhmmm…” 47 could not help but find her half lidded eyes and silly grin somewhat cute.

Not far down the path, a few miles from the butte, Zecora and 47 begin to lightly bump into one another. A game so to speak. Zecora would bump into 47 when he least expected it and tell him to be quiet if a branch snapped or leaf crumpled and vice versa. As the two made their way back home predators not native to the everfree stalked the movements of their pray. From out of the darkness, betwixt vines and branches, a jet black orb launches from the thick, striking Zecora’s side. With a small explosion the orb pried itself open, releasing a binding net the covered Zecora from head to hoof. Zecora began to panic almost instantaneously.

“Calm yourself Zecora, you will make it worse.” 47 swiftly drew a crude knife from concealment, the very same knife he had taken from that one pony back at the ruins. Before he could get to the bound zebra two large chunks of earth sailed toward his location, forcing him to take cover.

“Wunderbar! You are just as fast as they say. I can’t vait to see vhat makes you tick!” From out of the thick brush, three hooded ponys jumped out and collected around Zecora.

“Three plus One. Three are ground level; one is in a tree!” Zecora shouted.

“Quiet you!” One of the hooded thugs, a stallion, planted a stomping blow to Zecora’s skull causing it to bounce off the ground. The pain caused was enough to knock her unconscious. Upon hearing violent sound 47 was able to determine general locations of the three. “Take her awa-” Before he could finish is sentence 47 had whirled around the tree, throwing a knife into his trachea. With a short roll, 47 closed the distance between himself and the hostile party. With a swift punch; 47 landed a strike to the side of another’s head, spinning the pony where she stood. Wrapping his arms around the neck of the stunned mare, 47 uses her as a shield. Two more large chunks of earth hurled at 47. The brunt of the impact was taken by the mare’s body but the force staggered 47 long enough for the last minion to pull Zecora into the brush. As 47 takes a step forward, his arm still wrapped around the neck of his meat shield, a sinister laugh comes from the forest canopy.

“Vee hee hee! I vas hoping for more but it seems I was misled.”

“Then come and finish me off” A bold taunt from 47 considering he knew nothing of his foe let alone has not seen him.

“Ah, but that vould be no fair for me. You see I want to know vat kind of magic makes you vork. I vant to open you up and see your inner workings. The twang of tendons and grinding of internal gears but I digress. I have my prize, I vill come back for you later though.” A tan pony leaps from the tree tops and descends to the ground with unnatural haste. His hooves slam into the ground causing a rumble; cracks spread from the points of impact letting out a luminescent green glow. 47 braced for impact, not knowing what sort of magic was at work. The earth quickly fissured and upturned underneath 47 casting him down. In the cloud of dirt and dust the pony made his escape. 47 dusted himself off and assessed his situation. I could go after them but I only have a direction. No real information. This new pony has an unnatural fascination with me, one that reminds me of Ort-Meyer… is this were you go when you die? I sure hope not. Never the less I have one more viable option. 47 picks up the unconscious and slings her over his shoulder, vanishing into the Everfree thicket.

A chorus of insects began the song of nightlife as the sun descended over the mountains. Night had officially began in the Everfree. 47 leaned against a twisted tree, his white tee still baring dirt.

“Where did they take her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” The mare said in defiance. Slowly digging a hole in the soft Everfree soil.

“This would be a lot easier for you if you would just tell me.” 47 said in a calm manner. “Once the rim of that hole reaches your mane I will bury you.”

“They will kill me if I tell you!”

“And I will kill you of you don’t”

The mare spit the spade out onto the ground “Come on! You are being unreasonable.”

“Don’t. Stop. Digging.” 47 leaned forward and showed off the same jagged knife that he had used on the stallion

“You wouldn’t kill me in cold blood…w-would you…”

47 gave her a very stern look “You mean like what you and your friends tried to do to Zecora and me?” He smiles “Yes. I would actually enjoy killing you in cold blood. Kind of strange really. Most of me wants you to tell me what you did with Zecora. But part of me wants you to keep it to yourself so that I can carve it out of your hide slowly.” The mare was absolutely terrified, there was no hiding it. She reeked of fear. 47 slowly walked to the rim of the grave “Way out here, nothing would come to save you when you scream. I hate when I half to gag them. Takes the fun out of it. I always wondered what it was like to cut a pony up without gagging them. A nice deep cut from navel to nose. To flay the torso with unhindered access would be amazing, don’t you think?” At some point during 47’s monologue the mare had soiled herself.

The mare pleaded with what dignity she had left. “I’ll tell you anything! Everything! Just please don’t do that!” With tear filled eyes she told 47 everything she knew. About the Royal Flush. About the leader Zephyrus and the knight he faced just a few hours ago. More importantly she told him where they would have taken Zecora; a small camp with some reinforcements. Just what 47 wanted to hear. She was past her uses to him at this point, her death was quick.

The small camp offered little leisure but provided some much need support for Sophronius. Four pawns waited eagerly at the camp for the return of their knight. Sophronius looks about the meager camp before retiring to his tent. Not much but they are not staying long, just the night. Then off to the ruins.

“Tie her up and keep her alive.” He says before closing the tent flap.
“You heard’em!” the three backup pawns crowd around Zecora’s senseless form and bind her fore hooves together with rope, then they do the same to her hind hooves. As Zecora comes to she realizes that she is in danger. Instinctively she attempts to get up and run but her bindings prevent this.

“Calm down ya cheeky little cunt, we have plans for ya.” One of them spat out from gritted teeth. Zecora tried to look around but everything was black; blindfolded.

“If you let me go, nopony would know” one of her captors spit upon her.

“You would like that wouldn’t you heretic?”

“We’ll make you pay for getting our mates killed.” Zecora remained steadfast and silent. She knows what comes next. Hooves begin to land on her ribs and in her gut. She is not sure how many there are but they are doing a lot of damage. Zecora attempts to curl up in a fetal position but it does not help much. Several heavy strikes land on her ribs causing one to crack. Zecora lets out a cry of pain.

“If ya squeal again we’ll wreck your shit for good striped.” As the stallion spoke he struck Zecora’s face multiple times. After some time the camp settled down. Zecora lay by a tree; brutalized and broken, she quietly whimpered in pain. Hold out Zecora. You can do this. Anon will come for me soon. I know he will. I don’t know why or how, but I know he will not leave me… he promised… As the waning moon pushed across the night sky most of the insects settle down, as well as most of the occupants of the camp. Sophronius has not been seen sense he had first retired to his tent. Three of the four others had turned in for the night. One was in charge of night watch. Zecora feels her binds get tugged and tightened. Her blindfold is removed. Zecora looks up to see a cloaked figure.

“Ya done cry’n cunt?” His words made her coat crawl. She laid her head back down without a response. “Good. Glad ya know when ta shut ur hole. Ur friend killed my mates ya know. One was my marefriend” Zecora just lays still, expecting a beating; instead she gets a caressing hoof down her neck that made her blood run cold. “Maybe I’ll let you be my marefriend tonight cunt.”

“In your darkest dreams, you are pathetic it seems.” The stallion puts a hoof on Zecora’s side and presses down. Her cracked ribs protest and fire shots of pain through her body, her lungs beginning to burn.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way slut.”

“And if I scream?”

“Then I tell them you were trying to escape. Then they let me cut your throat to the bone.”

“Just get it over with then.” She said gnashing her teeth.

“Ask nicely.” His vile words mage Zecora sick to her stomach.

“No.” His hoof pressed harder into Zecora’s side. She clenched her teeth in pain trying to hold back a cry of pain.

“Beg you striped whore and I may be gentle” With that said he put more weight into his hoof and twisted slowly. Her weakened ribs began to crack. The pain was too much to bare at this point

“Please…” she whimpered.

“Please what?” His grin was visible even in the dark.

“Just take me…please...no more” Zecora felt his hoof lift off her chest allowing her to breathe again.

“I thought you would never ask. You really are a tough cunt, ya know that?” He unbound her hind legs and pushed her flank in the air. Her lower half still in the dirt. Zecora closed her eyes and just hoped it was over quickly.

“Look back at me slut.” Slowly Zecora nudges her head into a position where she could look behind herself; her eyes blurry with tears. Before the stallion had the chance to mount her a tall dark figure appeared behind the pony. In a swift motion Anonymous made a deep laceration across the stallion’s throat. Anonymous then shoved his hand into the pony’s throat and pulled his tongue out through the gash. A truly gruesome seen that left Zecora stunned. As the stallion choked on his own fluids Anon unbound Zecora. In a daze she looks up to see anon, Zecora would almost say he is crying if she did not know him better.

“Shhhh, no one can hurt you. You are safe now.” He cradles her to his chest and slowly walks through the camp and back in the direction of the hut. As they pass through the camp Zecora takes notice that two other pawns are laying on the ground in pools of their own crimson, throats cut open wide enough to see inside. She wonders what became of that one bolder throwing stallion. Anon stopes for a moment to tie a rope around his waist. The rope was attached to a large sack. Zecora soon passes out, left in Anon’s care.

47 sets Zecora down gently in her bed. Not sure how to feel 47 tucks her in. The bag 47 had drug across the Everfree held a pony that was bound and gagged. A male with a light gray coat, dark gray mane, and light blue eyes. Three clovers as a cutiemark. 47 felt it was not necessary to interrogate him elsewhere. Right now. Right here. 47 unties the pony and removes the gag.

“A-are you letting me g-go?” He said hesitantly.

“No. I want answers. Who is Sophronius and what does he want with Zecora and myself.” He said, pulling his black gloves over his hands.

“I don’t kn-” Before he could finish 47 landed a reeling punch on his noise.

“Don’t give me that shit. You were in his tent” 47 barked. His eyes burned with anger and the stallion could see this.

“Please…I know you have no reason to trust me but I really don’t know anything!” He wiped some of the blood from his nostrils.

“We will see about that” 47 struck him in the muzzle again casting the pony to the ground. The pony just laid still

“Just kill me please…I never wanted any of this” He closed his eyes and began to cry lightly. 47 was honestly perplexed by this Maybe he does not know anything…

“Get up. I won’t hit you again. Not unless you deserve it” 47 kneeled to the pony’s level and helped him sit up “What is your name and what are you doing in that group?”

“My name is F-felix. I am just a pawn. All I know is that we were supposed to meet some big shot and help him transport something. When I learned the true nature of things there I was horrified…”

“Why did you let them do that to her? Why not stop them?” 47 inquired with a stern tone

“Because I’m weak…I know it now. I could not even work up the courage to tell them to stop beating her. But when I found out what that one stallion was going to her I had to do something…So I went to tell on him, as petty as that is. Then you showed up and took their life’s.”

“Hm, how can I trust you?”

“I told you. You can’t really. You can trust that I am not strong. You captured me ease...I just assumed I was dead.” He looks down, wiping some blood away. “Maybe I still am. I am no use to you…”

47 thinks for a moment “Tell me about yourself Felix. Everything.”

“Well as you know my name is Felix. I live in Ponyville with my wife Cherry Berry. We have a foal named Arora.” As he went on 47 did not sense any lies. This pony was convinced he was already dead and that this was a last ditch effort to get a little trust. The words that a priest once told him echoed in his mind ”Mercy for those not guilty of sin my son.” 47 knows that it could jeopardize the mission at hand by letting this pony live, which is not acceptable. If I do spare him and he is truthful, I could use him as an informant. This would give me a much needed edge against the Roil Flush.

“You tell me where and how to find you in Ponyville and I will spare you.”

“Wait… you really mean it? I can see my wife and foal again?”

47 nods “But, you much inform me of any and all activates that the Roil Flush is involved in.” Felix reluctantly accepts the offer and gives 47 all his personal information. “And if you lie to me or try anything funny.”

Felix shudders. “That is not going to happen. I heard what you did to the others. I don’t think I will sleep right for weeks. but it is worth it to see my little Arora again…” 47 leads him out and points him to Ponyville. 47 also tells Felix not to come to the hut unless there is no other option.

Over the next week 47 tended to Zecora. Cooking and cleaning. Helping her eat and walk. Cleaning and changing her bandages. The first few days were the hardest for them both. Zecora was in a state of shock. She did not eat, nor did she speak. She just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. 47 had started losing hope on the third day until she muttered something under her breath

“I knew you would come back…I never lost hope Anon” Soon after that she began eating again. 47 was a mediocre cook at best. The vegetable stews he made were bland but she ate regardless. He spoon fed her for the next two days until she was able to eat on her own. On the sixth day Zecora was able to walk and eat on her own. Her ribs were mostly healed at this point in time but she still had a lot of pains. Zecora sat up in bed just as the sun came up, 47 was in shortly with what looked like oatmeal.

“Thank you Anon…thank you so much” She said gazing up at him

“For what Zecora?”

“For keeping your promise and staying with me. You could have left-” 47 shushes her and brings a wooden spoonful of much to her lips.

“Eat.” Zecora pushed past his hand and draped her hooves over 47’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. 47 let out a sigh and carefully wrapped his arms around her. After a moment she pulled away and looked into his eyes. She could see his expression was softer than usual. Not his normal frown but not quite a smile yet. Before anything more could be said there was a loud knock at the door.

Author's Note

Still have some edits but ill poke at it later.