Chapters 2: You were not trained for this
The butler’s geisha robe 47 had recently acquired is a little tighter then he would like but it will half to do for the time being. Entering through the back on the ostentatious and very oriental mansion Agent 47 discover a small kitchen-like area. The island in the center the room has fish as well as a variety of cutting instruments adorning a haloing holding rack. After a quick inspection of the utensils he take a medium sized flaying knife and hide it in his disguise, just in case. 47 turns and leave this area for what looks like some sort of living room.
Once there He sees a very familiar face. This female acquaintance has short black hair and wears a purple shirt with spaghetti straps. In the middle is a gap showing her breasts, and she is also wearing high leggings, and purple high heels. She also has quite a voluptuous body and is standing in his way.
“Lei Ling, what are you doing here?” 47 asks in a slightly puzzled manor. It has been quite a few years since Agent 47 had rescued this woman from a sex slave operation ran by the Red Dragon Triad in Hong Kong. From the look of things she has gone back to selling her body, this time willingly. This actually disappoints 47 a little. Something he is not used to.
“Mister Tobias Rieper. It is so good to see you again,” Lei Ling says with a bat of her eyes and a very prominent accent. She only knows 47 by that name, this is good. Killing her would not be useful to the mission at hand.
“I take it that you are here to deal with Master Hayamoto?” He gives a simple nod, “Good, I was growing tired of the rich old bastard. Looks like you are saving me again, huh Tobias?” She smiles and gives Agent 47 a quick peck on the cheek. This action, unlike any other 47 had experienced before, bewildered and vexed him to a great extent. Why would someone do something like this? “Here, take these codes. They will get you into his room,” she says handing 47 a slip of paper she had pulled out of her cleavage. Lei ling gives one last wink, walking past 47, and leaves the way 47 had came in. Agent 47 stand there for some time wondering, what exactly just happened.
Hayamoto’s grand estate has no shortage of guard, as one would guess. Two of which have been stationed outside the master’s room which is at the end of an L-type hallway. The whole mansion is on high alert. From what they know there was a hit issued on Hayamoto and that some agency is sending their best. This is their time to shine and get that promotion. Even if the guards were knocked out there is no way any assassin is getting in. Only the boss knows the security codes, and at a time like this, anyone would be lucky to see him at all. Any attempt on the master’s life has already been thwarted.
“Do you hear that, Kye?”, his partner nods, “Check it out, I’ll wait here and call for backup if we need it,” He said with a motion of his head. Kye crouches slightly and moves down the hall as quickly and quietly as he can. He turns the corner and vanishes from sight. After a few minutes the remaining guard begin to worry. With a loud whisper he called out.
“Kye, you there?” No answer. Maybe he got distracted by one of the girls again. The guard let out a sigh and start down the hall after him. He turns the corner to find Kye sitting down near the other end of the hall, his posture slouched.
“Really Kye? Now is not the time for a break!” He said, marching over to his form. Putting a hand on his shoulder, the guard give him a small shake. The force applied moves him effortlessly. His head sags to the side revealing his neck. There are red marks around his throat, a clear sign of strangulation. He reached back to grab his handheld transceiver but before the guard can act any further the shadow of a man pulls his head back and stabs him in the neck with a kitchen knife. The steel blade severs his carotid artery with ease and merges it with his trachea. The guard instantly begin to fade out, choking to death on his own blood. He let out a final gargled cry for help but to no avail, He just spit up blood and fall to the ground…
47 is woken up to the sound of woodland animals in the midst of their morning routine around the outside of the massive tree. There was not even the mad hope of waking up in some alleyway and the past 20 hours being some mad delusion. Looks like I am here to stay. This was the longest he had slept in over a year. He felt a strange sense of peace while in this world. It’s…unnerving. Zecora offered to let him sleep in a few areas of the small estate so he chose the rather small storage room. It served its use.
From the luminous strips of light coming from the primitive window he guesses the sun is starting to rise. 47 thinks back on night before. The two of us talked for quite a bit after we got back. The similarities of the two worlds was shocking to say the least. This makes my alias easier to maintain. Her kindness reminded Agent 47 of some people that he had met long ago. They were part of the Catholic Church. He wonders if the outcome will be the same in this world. Nevertheless he knows what he needs to do. A small knock at the door informs 47 of an anticipated presence.
“Anonymous, are you up? I have made some breakfast and thought you might want a cup.” Anonymous may not be as classy as some of the other aliases he has used before, but he found it to be rather fitting for the current situation. Maybe I will tell her the truth one day.
“I will be out momentarily, Zecora.” 47 was able to determine that she has indeed moved away. For something so small she seems to have a heavy step. Is she not weary of me? She knows nothing of my past but still, trusting another so quickly? Would she change her attitude if she knew? From what she said Equestria has not seen war in hundreds of years so I am not really in the best position, being a contract killer and all. Sure death happens but how often is it cause by another being? Realizing that all this mental questioning is getting him nowhere, 47 rises to his feet. Maybe, being a hermit of sorts, this sort of subject will not be off limits to Zecora. After all she seems indifferent enough. I’ll test the subject later on. Time to discover what ponies eat.
He enters the main room with an air of caution. The walls of the room are covered in all sorts of ingredients and vials of liquid. Zecora never commented on what they were, 47 cannot help but wonder wonder how many of them are poisonous.
“It is nice of you to join me, don’t worry this one is free,” She said in her strange manor, motioning to the free seat at the dining table. It was small for even her but there were two bowl-like cups. The shapes probably made it easy for the equines to eat from. Seems they are somewhat more cultured than expected, then again if they have large cities and skyscrapers; thinking they do not know how to eat with utensils would be lowballing it.
He moves the chair out of the way and sits on his knees. It is not very comfortable, but at least it makes the tabletop more level with his chest. The zebra fills both of the cups with something that looked rather strange. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be oatmeal. She gives a simple nod and returns the ladle back to the cauldron before taking a seat across from 47. She takes a drink and looks him square in the eyes. 47 finds this a bit unnerving.
“Feel free to eat, though it may not be meat...” This provokes a response from him.
“What do you mean by that, Zecora?” She takes another drink before responding.
“You attacked that manticore. Was your intent only for gore?” He takes a moment to adequately form a response to this loaded question.
“Well Mrs. Zecora, I found that a direct course of action was necessary to prevent a future incident regarding my own wellbeing,” She smiles softly, pleased with his answer, and finishes off her food.
“Please, just call me Zecora. It is better that way.” Zecora rises to here hoofs and deals with her dish. 47 notices that she did not speak in rhyme yet again, he also notice that she is waiting for him to decide if he wants the food or not. 47 takes a drink. It’s edible so he downs the whole thing with a large gulp. She smiles and offers to take the dish. She is rather dexterous with her hooves, which makes him wonder. After a short silence Zecora speaks up from the small kitchen area.
“So what were you doing in that part of the everfree? You might have stayed lost if naught for me.” She said with in a rather smug tone. This slightly irritates 47
“Like I told you last night, I woke up in that strange cave with no memory of how I got there and no sense of direction.”
“What was the last thing you remember doing before you awoke? Do you think this is all a crul joke?”
What was I doing? All I can remember is past contracts. I don’t even remember the last time I looked at any kind of date. Is this some form of brain washing? “I…Don’t remember”
She thinks on this for some time before she offers up a suggestion “Well I was planning on traveling that direction. Perhaps clues could be found in that direction.” Zecora was quite pleased with her use of logic, insomuch that she went ahead and started packing her saddlebag. “We might also stumble across that which is lost, that way one won’t think of it tossed.”
As much as 47 would hate to admit it, this zebra has a point. It is clear that the town she was going to show me has no human life, so there is no real reason to go. Accompanying her in the everfree may not be what I want to do; but it would be good to find some kind of clue. Do….clue…. Now I am starting to think like her. Great. ”That is a good idea Zecora. We will postpone the trip to town and go back to where you found me”
“Yes, but first we must make a stop, there are some ingredients that I aim collect. Then for clues we will look, besides you would make good body guard I suspect.” It seems when she is in a good mood her accent gets thicker. This is good to know. It will make it easier to tell how she is feeling. Why are humans not this simple to get? It was a pretty straightforward deal and considering that he has no idea how to go about the situation himself.
From the information given the two of them are headed southwest to a bog, not far from some abandon ruins. She briefed 47 on the types of creatures are out and about during the day, what to look for, as well as how to fend them off. Agent 47 noticed it felt good to be on a mission again. This is not the kind of mission he was used to but beggars can’t be choosers. It also give him a slight sense of normality. Though, every time he sees Zecora he is reminded that nothing will ever be normal again.
In no time at all she is sporting very familiar looking equipment as well as strange looking necklace. Wait... It looks like some form of blow gun. Looks like I have a good idea why she wanted that poison gland. From the look of things she is ready. The two leave the estate through the front, 47 holding the door for his new host. No harm in acting a little gentlemanly. Zecora seemed very happy to have someone treat her this way.
After a few hours of casual walking through dense and colorful jungle the two make it to what appears to be a the bog Zecora mentioned. It seems like a peaceful place; lots of frogs and insect life. Zecora warned 47 of ‘hydras’ as well as other nasty things to watch out for.
What she is gathering must be of great value considering the risks she is taking. 47 observes her movements every now and again to see exactly what she is up to. Zecora was taking quite an interest in some of the strange bulbs that are floating about in the water. Good thing she took her bag off and placed it near the shore. The water is a few feet deep and rather muddy. She just trots around in the mud. 47 finds is strange that she just wades through the muck, he was expecting her to act a little more feminine. looks like she has surprised me yet again. Then again this could be acting feminine in this world. Maybe I will ask her about it later. Two hours pass and still nothing has happened. Agent 47 finds himself actually wishing something would happen. This is not how life was for him, it makes him feel wrong. Any familiarity he had with the situation is absolutely gone.
The area is almost too peaceful for him. Peaceful and quiet. 47 notices that the only sounds that are audible is the chatter of trees sharing a breeze and the birds far off somewhere. He rushes to Zecora, paying no mind to the muddy water or the effects it has on his elegant suit, and pushes her down into the muck. She struggles a bit but 47 is vastly stronger than zecora and hold her down, almost downing her. Zecora begins to panic and thrash about fruitlessly. Looking up onto 47’s eye she notices something she had seen before. That was the same look he had when he attacked that manticore, a look of instinct. She slowly begins to relax even though her muzzle is barely protruding from the water. Once 47 feels her calm down he slowly releases her. Reaching down he scoops up some mud and applies it to his face and head, then 47 repeats the presses on Zecora. She becomes passive and lets 47 do what needs to be done. Why can’t every person be this easy to deal with? Both of them wait in the swamp broth, camouflaged heads barely sticking out of the water. Zecora’s Mohawk slicked over to the side from the mud mane-care product her companion so graciously offered.
After an extended amount of time a group of strange robed ponies trudged by headed east. They had some type of cargo chest in tow atop a carriage. 47 waits about a five minutes before rising and giving the all clear. Zecora lets out a sigh of relief and joins him.
“That is not normal of the pony folk, perhaps this is some form of joke?” Trekking up to the shore, 47 begins to inspect their tracks. Deep prints and wheel indents implies that they were heavy and so was the cargo. A test of the dirt’s density and moisture confirms this. The direction indicates that they are indeed traveling eastward, looking down their path you see that there is actually a trail of some sort. Closer inspection of the prints also hints that some of them were wearing horseshoes. Zecora trots up behind 47, she seemed to have cleaned most the muck off her body as well as gathered her things, tho her Mohawk was clean it stayed limp and to one side. 47 turns and inform her of his findings, withholding his snide opinion for her new style. Zecora ponders on the information a bit before responding.
“I think pursuit of this party may be in order, don’t you think? Perhaps there is some sort of unspoken link.” He nods in agreement. 47 honestly does not care what the objective is now, as long as it is not listening to the wildlife again. He found it rather tedious.
The two follow the path for some time. 47 constantly give Zecora tips on how to be stealthier as they continue down the wretched rut. At this point He looks like the surrounding foliage. Twigs and loose leaves have stuck to his suit and head, the forest is assimilating him. According to the sun it is almost three in the afternoon when they reach a camp of some kind. It seems to be some ornate and dilapidated structure, possibly once a castle. There are clocked ponys scattered about and vaguely familiar carriages parked outside the few entrances. Clearly they have a supply line. This would also mean they are not going anywhere anytime soon.
“No pony should be here. This all seems rather queer…” 47 finds himself restraining comments that would refer to her agreement to follow them. After they stalk the perimeter of the camp they were able to discern the building is now under the occupation of a possible hostile force. They chant and talk in unison, clearly some form of cult. Zecora states that she has never noticed them before. Then again she does not come this deep into the Everfree. After a bit of debate an agreement is reached. A stakeout was in order to kind out possible intentions. Using darkness as a veil to hid their presence, they would try and infiltrate the complex. 47 feels a strange sense of pride as he continues to give Zecora pointers on stealth. She takes the knowledge very well and seems to apply them with every fiber of her being. It is almost like having a pupil. As they wait Agent 47 lets his mind drift into previous contracts. Maybe one is similar to the situation…
3: You were trained for this
Zecora, having been accompanied by a human, traveled deep into the everfree forest to look for some ingredients and clues about why Anonymous is here. Unfortunately things did not go as Zecora had expected. In their travels they have discovered a strange cult of earth ponies who have taken up residence in the old ruins of a castle. After a bit of spying a few things have been revealed. One; they seem to offer sacrifices to whatever they worship. Two; they seem almost tribal, with near feral and savage customs. Three; there are quite a few of them. Zecora and Anon have appropriated an interest in a chest that the cult has. The cultists show strange reverence towards the trunk and the one who possesses it, a sky-blue earth pony with a teal, messy mane and a strange cutie mark. The mark almost looked of zebra descent. Most of his muscle mass was located in his chest and fore hooves; clearly a fit pony. The two sets of prying eyes were well-hidden along the line of brush east of the dilapidated structure, which was lightly defended. Anonymous and Zecora waited patiently for night to fall, watching and memorizing guard patterns and shift changes, postures and demeanor. The guards were not the only thing Zecora observed, Anonymous had taught her a few things about stealth as time slowly passed by. He seemed really knowledgeable on the subject and she couldn’t help but wonder what he did before he ended up here. His cutie mark, ‘tattoo’ as he called it, was a series of tiny vertical lines with a horizontal scar running through it. This made it hard to make out. If she could see it clearly she might have a better idea of his profession. From what Zecora had seen of him, he slips into his memories a lot. All the while, still staying aware of his surroundings. She can’t help but feel bad for him. He must miss his home quite a lot to want to depart into his own mind so often. Maybe there is something I could do to cheer him up after all this is over.
Dusk soon set in. The melancholy of the half-moon dimly lighting the ruins gives Zecora a sence of nostalgia. Back when she was in a tribe… Not now Zecora, you need to concentrate on what anonymous taught you. She can’t help but feel Anonymous is rubbing off on her in more ways than one. The aspect of memories seems to intensify around him, making it easier to delve into the inner depths of one’s mind. What a strange magic...
It was almost time to move. The plan was to infiltrate the ruins by knocking out one of the guards and taking his hooded robe for a disguise. After that Zecora would be able to gather knowledge on the cult from the inside; more importantly, information about the chest. Cautiously, she approach Anonymous, “It is almost time for us to discover their true crime,” She whispers.
“You remember what I taught you right? We can’t afford to be discovered. If you must flee do so, just don’t blow your cover. Rely on instinct.” Zecora gives a nod. Zecora was very confident that she would be able to effectively use what Anon had taught her. Some of it was a little strange and made no sense but surely it was useful. Abnormal things seemed to make sense to Zecora, probably one of the reasons why she got along with him so well. “Right, so I will move first, you second, then we execute. Got it, and remember that death is always a risk.” He said in his blunted tone. She gave him one last nod, this one slightly smaller. Death is not something Zecora likes to think about, but it is an inevitability. It seems as if anxiety was more of a problem than she originally thought, her mental analysis of things was running in overdrive. Anon stands and places a hand on Zecora’s head, ruffling her mane a little. This simple action leaves her in astonishment. Zecora would have never expected Anon to show any kind of deeper emotion, especially something like that. The whole time he has been here he has never actually done anything like this, Anonymous has always been cautious of my space… When She finally snaps out of the daze he is already gone. It takes Zecora a moment to recompose herself and get rid of the goofy smile that has consumed her face.
“Right, time to move as the night.”
In a leery manor she approach the lone, hooded, guard. “Halt! State your business” His tone was harsh
“Greetings, I am zecora. I am here on account of hospitality. See I live in these woods and I just happened to notice that you folks have taken up residence in this old castle. I was wondering if you needed any help, not to be a hassle.” Zecora’s voice wavered but you were able to maintain a smile despite the situation.
“Oh you can help alright…” He said, moving toward Zecora; an eerie grin forming under his hood. She takes a few steps back and plants her hind hooves, building tension in her haunches. Be like a loaded spring…
“What is the meaning of this joke, I have no quarrel with you pony folk!” She responded, boldy maintaining her ground. The stallion removed his hood slowly and unsheathes a deadly looking blade.
Just a few more steps you fool, who knew you were such a tool The shadow of a tall dark figure appears behind the guard and wraps some kind of shiny string around his neck and begins constricting the life out of him. Slowly the figure drags the thrashing stallion into the brush line. It was over just like that, only took a few seconds. Zecora stand there not sure what to make of the situation. He was about to harm me after all, from the look of it he was going to attack me no matter what I did…So why does this feel wrong? Shaking off the feeling of shock she makes her way to where she had last seen Anonymous. He is nowhere to be found, same could be said for the guard. Zecora, did however, find that he left the cloak laying in plain view. Even stranger is that he had the time to fold it up nicely. After putting it on she can’t help but notice that it is a bit big and rather heavy. After closer inspection the realization of the craftsmanship dawns upon her. Bones are woven into the very cloth itself, this causes Zecora to grimace. Putting the hood up she walks through the entrance that was once guarded.
She wanders through the torch lit hallways wondering to herself where Anon went and if he is ok. Not long after she enters she becomes subjected to the magic of these old ruins. The complex maze of halls and corridors seem to physically misplace Zecora as she continues down the dim paths. It looked a lot smaller from the outside... As she walks aimlessly through hall after hall Zecora begins to get lost in thought, wondering if she will be lost in here forever. Will be discovered and killed? Possibly even tortured to death? The more she thought about it the angrier and more distressed she became. Slowly losing herself in this spinning void of hate and malice.This is not my fault. I don’t do stuff like this. I live alone and make potions to help ponys…this is all Anonymous’ fault. Nothing like this would have happened. Cause and Effect, Anonymous shows up and the world goes to hell…Damn him. When I see him again I’m- Turning a corner Zecora finds herself at the entrance of what looks like an arena. The delusion of impudence seems to subside as her senses return. Zecora becomes plagued with regrets, feeling horrible for all those nasty thoughts.
Thirty rows of seats down is what looks like a pit with yellow dirt, decorated with spatters of crimson. Two ponies seem to be in the midst combat. One of them is a heavy, iron-clad earth pony with a rather large hammer, the other was a unicorn with slave rags and some sort of metallic ring on her horn. Zecora is able to deduce that it is used to suppress magical abilities. The mare is of a pale color with a dark mane and tail. She could have been pretty at one time, but right now she is covered in scuff marks and dirt. You take your place in the upper ring and watch on in horror with her fellow hooded spectators.
“Wooo! Smash the heretic, Stoppage!”
“Rape her!”
“Blood for the blood god, Stoppage!”
The crowd raves and cheers on their combatant. The round seems to have stopped for the moment. Something compels Zecora to shout and be violent but she knows better than this. There has to be some sort of magic that causes ponys to feel this way. An abysmal aura of some kind maybe? No real way of telling right now. Some sort of horn blows breaking your concentration and signaling the start of the next round. The mare uses her speed and mobility as an advantage, tactfully avoiding the wide swings of the hammer. In a futile attempt, the mare kicks up a bit of dirt into the faceplate of this massive pony. Zecora assumes him to be male, she has never seen a mare get that big before. All too soon he lands a strike on her flank and cripples the mare with a bone crunching blow. He swings again, this time aiming for her head. She puts her forelimbs up out of instinct only to have them brutally mutilated. Letting out a cry of pain she falls to the ground and curls up in a trembling ball. It takes every ounce of strength Zecora has in order to hold yourself back from leaping down there and saving her. Stoppage rises his right hoof. The crowd explodes in cheers and shouts for carnage. He obliges, bringing his hoof down swiftly onto the mare’s head causing it to burst into a puddle of blood, bone, and brain bits. A wave of nausea flooded Zecora’s senses as the rest of the crowd let out a roar. She slowly backs up and head out the way that she had come in, trying not to vomit. She rushes through the hallways, not caring where she ends up, Zecora just wants to be as far away from that place as physically possible. After she turns Zecora last corner she finds herself back at the entrance that she originally came in. Zecora shakily makes her way back to the brush line, her body fighting her the whole way. Once under the cover of vegetation her forelimbs quiver fiercely and cheeks fuzzy. Zecora’s neck lurches forward as a hot torrent of stomach fluids exit out her muzzle.
A tall figure steps out from the shadows. It is Anonymous. Zecora rushes up to him and wraps her forelegs around his waist in an attempted hug. She feels him stiffen up. Noticing that her outburst of emotion has bewildered him Zecora unbinds him from the vice grip. “I... well-um...” Clearing Her throat she recomposes herself. “I’m glad to see you anonymous, I was getting anxious.”
He looks to the pile of spit up. “I could tell. Bury it. We can’t leave any trace that we were here. Did you get eyes on the target?” Zecora tries to think back to what she had seen but the images of gore were burned into her retina. That poor mare getting her legs smashed, her head popin- Another wave of sickness floods her being. Zecora is forced to wipe her mind of thoughts, lest she vomit again.
“I-I think we should get out of here anon, we have been here for some time. We can talk when we get to that place of mine…”
“Do you have any information at all?” Anonymous’ inquiry leaves Zecora slightly irritated. She also finds it very hard to concentrate for some reason.
“Now is not the best time, we should unwind,” She says rather matter-of-factly. He gives a nod, and ushers you on.
47 has always been content with his ability to do contracts better than anyone else but this is the first time he had ever felt a sort of ‘joy’ welling in his chest. Yes, it is irritating that she wants to wait till we get back but still. 47 feels as if he has an apprentice in this new world. He does not care if she can kill or not, he just cares that she observed, learned, and acted. Yeah she threw up but she was not engineered for this, unlike myself. 47 can’t help but notice how carefully she carries herself now. She even avoids the small twigs and crunchy plant life.
She picked up things that took 47 a decade to master, in only a few hours. Yeah, she needs some fine tuning but she is still effective. That counts for everything. To be effective. As the two make the trek back to Zecora’s hut 47 continues to watch her skills develop even on this walk back. The feeling of accomplishment almost overwhelming his sense of professionalism.
Once the hut is in sight 47 begins to dust himself off as best he can to avoid tracking in dirt and unwanted grime. Sadly the suit is in a state of disrepair, he can’t help but wonder if there is some creature in this world that could fix this up. Maybe some sort of giant silk spider with a mustache. 47 takes a moment to imagine it up. Well that was an unpleasant image… Zecora seems to take notice of his change in demeanor. Once in the cottage 47 allows himself a moment to rest, taking a seat on the floor in the same spot he had eaten breakfast. Zecora still seems a little shook up though. Maybe I will ask her about it when she is done doing whatever it is she is doing.
Starting a small fire underneath the cauldron Zecora begins boiling some water. As it simmers she looks around, gathering various vegetables and chopping them up. 47 notices that even though she has hooves she is extremely dexterous, Zecora is even able to hold a crude knife and chop with only her hoofs. I know a few humans who can’t use a knife that well. This display intrigues him greatly. After she puts the chopped plants into the large pot Zecora sits across from 47. He notice that she is staring off into space, seems like she is still in shock. 47 tries to just take in the silence but something nudges him to speak to her. “Just say something~” it says in a calm comforting tone. Letting out a defeated sigh he speaks up.
“So…what are you making?”
She responds bluntly “Soup” The idea pains him but it looks like he will need to show some emotion of some kind. This is not time for a professional façade.
“How are you holding up?” Her eyes begin to water and she breaks down into tears, weeping heavily into her forearms. This genuinely catches 47 off guard, having no idea how to deal with this. Quickly he tries his best to think of something.
Mimicking the motions he had seen others do 47 dose his best to comfort her. Scooting over to Zecora, he put hand on her shoulder. She turns and buries her muzzle into his chest and continues to cry. 47 just lets it happen, gently rubbing her back in soothing motions. After a few minutes Zecora seems to calm. She looks up, eyes slightly glistening and red “My thanks anon, you are too kind.” then she snuggles into his chest “I hope you don’t mind…” Strangely enough 47 did not mind this one bit. Sure it was alien compared to previous physical encounters he had experienced, but it was nice. The two of them stayed like this for some time before the soup was ready. Zecora dished up the stew joined 47 at the small table. She stayed rather close to him as they partook of the meal. After a quick recap of what exactly happened in the complex. It is pretty obvious that the death of that mare had shook Zecora to her very core. She must have never seen another die before. Good to know she did not see what became of the guard. She would have probably made me leave for what I did. The information he provided was worth the interrogation.
“I may know a pony who could fix your suit. If you don’t deem the fact moot,” Zecora said in a very sincere manor. Was the attachment to my clothes that obvious?
“If it can be done, I would greatly appreciate it.” She seemed to brighten up, back to her old self, at the prospect of helping him. Clearly keeping a roof over his head was not enough. Zecora was really nice, it is a shame that there are those who would take advantage of such kindness in 47’s world. Then again, after what he had seen today, there are those who would do the same in this world. Evil knows no bounds, no restraints, and no prisoners. Maybe I can do some good in this world as I find a way back home. If not that then you can at least take out some scum on my way out.
As he bids Zecora good night she takes advantage on the situation. “If you do not want to sleep in that closet, my quarters have room” looking away with a little smile she continues
“Though I dare not presume…” At this point he has no idea what to do. Is this some sort of zebra thing or is it relevant to gender?
Conjuring up his best attempt at a smile he respond very carefully “I-uh I need a little more time to consider my options. The room you have provided is sufficient for my needs, thank you for the kind offer though. I really do appreciate your consideration for my comfort. I will see you bright and early. Have a nice rest” Zecora seemed content with his answer and wishes him a good night as well. Dodging that bullet 47 retires to his new room, reading for the trials to come on the morrow. It seems we are going to see some pony named ‘Rarity’. Zecora said she would help fix your suit, the unfortunate part is that Rarity lives in town, town is full of ponys. Ponys who don’t know I exist.[i/]
Author's Note
Sorry for all the delays guys!
Hope you all enjoy it!
4: The name of the game
The waning glimmers of sunlight peer through the rippling tapestry of twin sisters rising sun and moon; the day enters night. Tents have been erected around the old ruins in an attempt to bolster security. This was in response to a recent security breach. One of the few hidden magic’s that is no longer entombed is a very interesting enchantment. The user may cast the spell on a blank book and everything within a set range is recorded in the text. Zephyrus, king of the Roil Flush. “Cult leader” some call him. This sky-blue earth pony had a teal rats’ nest for a mane and tale with a spiraling void as a cutiemark. Zephyrus was absolutely furious when one of his underlings found the body of a pawn hidden in some shrubbery. In a normal platoon there are eight Pawns, two Rooks, two Bishops, two Knights, and one Queen. This was no normal platoon though, there were no less then twelve pawns on guard duty at all times which means something very sinister was at work here. Pawns tend to do the menial tasks and are what all new recruits start out as. Slowly they can work their way up to a tower, bishop, or knight. Rooks are the “lookouts” of the group. They keep an eye out on everything as well as collecting new information about hidden treasure and powerful magic’s. A bishop is one who takes all the information that is sent and filters it by relevance but that is not all. Bishops have a secondary task, recruiting. It is the job of a bishop to seek out rumors of the able-bodied and get them initiated. Anyone who refuses already knows too much and that is what the knights are for. Knights are known for their combat prowess and ability to follow orders to a tee. Queens are something else entirely. They are knights that have been affected by the dark magic’s that come will killing. The magic warps the personality and wipes the cutiemark from the pony. Not only are these queens vicious, some are outright insane. They are notorious for attaching themselves to their strongest emotion and corrupting it into something as grotesque as themselves.
Stoppage stood statuesque next to one of the most illustrious mares in Roil Flush. Being a zebra with red stripes she stuck out pretty well. Her mane off to one in a tousled shag style, tail mimicking. She was known as Alcipper of the setting sun. Alcipper made rank Queen within a few years of service. Stoppage was not so ambitious, He liked his rank as knight. None of the members are quite sure how long he has been in service. Any member that would be even close to him, in service time, has long sense perished. Zephyrus sat upon a refurbished throne, back center of the great hall. His efforts to restore the old castle proved profitable so far. It has even retained some of its old and dark magic. Despite the good fortunes in this investment, Zephyrus found himself agitated at his subordinates.
“So let me get this straight, you let a single hermit kill a pawn and infiltrate this complex!?” Zephyrus said in frustration, making exaggerated hoof motions.
“Iz not my fault. You were knowing that I was scouting. Stoppage was in the wrong here.” Alcipper said, accusatorily pointing a hoof at Stoppage. “If he would be doing job properly, we would not be having problem.” The passion in her voice rising with each comment she made. Stoppage seemed indifferent about the whole situation. The ironclad pony stood in silence. His shallow breath hitting the faceplate of his etched helmet.
“Are you not going to defend yourself against such accusations Stoppage?” Zephyrus leaned forward in anticipation. The soft clamor of Stoppage’s armor echoed throughout the empty hall as he stepped forward.
“Ah hell, y’know I aint t’blame. You can read it in that there book just like Al’ did” She did not take too kindly to his nickname. “That stripped came’n ear while I was fight’en that slave mare.” Once more Stoppage another term that irritated Alcipper. It would seem his attempts to antagonize her were working quite well. Alcipper was fuming at this point Tis what that bitch gets for lyin’
Zephyrus seemed to accept Stoppage’s excuse to some degree “Quite, which still means that we have a loose end though” with a flip of his hoof a thick codex appears in front of his muzzle, lingering in the air off its own aura. Zephyrus seems to flip through it casually before stopping on the entry “More disturbing is the familiar that she had. For whatever reason the book was not able to record it.” He ponders on this for some time, almost forgetting about Alcipper and stoppage. The two stood there in awkward silence. Looking up he utters a single statement “Take care of her”
“Yes my king!” The two say in unison
Flickering campfires illuminate the thick curtain of cumuli, the night baring on undisturbed. Guards now patrolling the grounds in pairs. Alcipper lay on a cot covered in blankets of the finest silk and pillows stuffed with exotic cotton. Alcipper was a Prima donna even before she joined up with the Roil Flush. Her tent reflected this with blue carpets and gold trim on everything, down to the last cup. Stoppage stood at entrance flap of her tent. He always hated Alcipper’s personal quarters.
“Zo pagey, vat are we going to be doings about this zebra?” She said, getting comfortable
“I says we just smash her and git er done.” He said bluntly
“I have better idea. Lets sends the new knight after her, yes?”
“You say’in I can’t get it done?” He said, sounding offended.
She snickers, knowing she is already getting to him “I noticed how poorly you perform in the city pagey. Then again you preforms poorly in most cases” She said with a grin “You’re not getting any youngers you know. Stamina might be issue. All you doing anymore is fighting the slave mares, but that’s ok. They aren’t knowing what a real fighter iz. Like their first time, ya?” Though she could not see him, Alcipper knew we was on the verge of rupturing into a rage. She just gave him a loving smile.
“Fine! Have it your way, no skin off my back. She messes up, it’s ur head” He said, stomping out.
Agent 47 sat against the wall, a tarnished coin in his hand. He could not sleep. 47 was riddled with emotions that he could not understand. Not the same emotions he had with the rabbit and not the same as the mouse. Those were different, love for an animal. Something to protect that would love you for it, never truly understanding the plight of life. As the tempest of thoughts begins to break, so does first light. That familiar stream of light illuminating his glum face. One of the differences in this world is the sunlight. Here the sun does not have that harsh brightness. It is always a soft light, never burning its image into his retina. It is pleasing to him. The birds started their morning chatter right on time. Zecora will be up soon. As if on cue he heard the slight pressing of hoofs on the hut’s floor. It is not long before Zecora lightly taps on his door. In only a moment 47 was up and at the door, coin in pocket. Upon opening it he was surprised to see that Zecora had her mane back in order.
“Did you sleep well?” She enquired, rather bright eyed.
“Yes I did Zecora” Another lie added to the list “How about yourself?”
“I slept well Anon. Come to the table and talk, breakfast is almost ready” She gives a coy little smile before heading there herself. Why is she being so forward and nice? Is this another pony thing? I suppose I will find out today. 47 soon joins her in his usual spot, assuming his normal sitting style. Zecora dished the food as normal, setting it on the table in association were they sit. Though Zecora’s spot has moved closer to 47’s. The eat quietly for some time before Zecora starts up some small talk.
“So how is it, the oatmeal. I would like to know how you feel”
“It is sufficient” His blunted response concerned her
“I could make something else if you so desire. Dear anon, you would only need to inquire”
“It’s fine Zecora. I like it”
“I could pick up some-” He cut in abruptly
“I would have no quarrel with change. Just be sure it is in your price range” He said, mimicking her accent. Zecora was caught off guard by this. He takes notice of her internal confliction and begins one of his own. A smile threatens his usual stone-faced expression. It only takes a “bu…wha…hu?” from Zecora before 47’s face is consumed by a smug grin. They both let out a small laugh.
“You look good with a smile Anon, you should wear it more often.” She says, retaining her own smile.
“Some things are better left hidden till the time is right Zecora.”
“Indeed. So are you excited to see rarity? For your suit, she is the element of charity”
“Yes and no. I don’t like attention very much. Walking into town will do just that. I have been trying to think of a way to avoid a scene but nothing comes to mind.” He swirls the last of the oatmeal, watching it slosh around at the bottom.
“I think I may have a solution, thought we need weight distribution.”
He was not sure how he was talked into it but it sure beats wading through a flock of franticly fascinated ponys fighting to ask frivolous questions. Zecora was pulling 47 through the streets of ponyville via cart and package. She had fashioned a large crate that would hide him, retaining his existence. There were small slits in the crate that allowed him to peer out at the populous. It was rather interesting to see all the brightly colored ponys going about their daily business. Most not even sparing Zecora a second glance. There was one lime green ‘Unicorn’ that seemed too excited to see Zecora. She also asked too many questions but thankfully Zecora was able to get her distracted long enough to make an escape. It was not too long before they were confronted by a large building that could only be described as a French carousel. 47 could not help but sigh. Anything with that bad of taste should not be touching my suit.. Zecora unhitched herself from the wagon, cantering to the boxed 47.
“Be strong, this will not take long.” She whispered. Trotting over to the door she rang the bell. It was not long before this ‘Rarity’ answered. She was a pure white unicorn with a royal purple mane. They seemed to talk for a bit casually. Try as he might, 47 could not hear a single word they said. He found this slightly irritating. There was an exasperated gasp and at that moment all 47 could do was put his forehead into his palm. Did you really need to tell her out in the open Zecora? Really!? Zecora soon trotted back and re-hitched herself to the cart then proceeded to wheel him to the back of the building. She backed the cart up to a larger backdoor. At least I don’t need to worry about windows. They all seem to be located on the top floor of this funhouse. The door opened and rarity’s head soon pocked out. She looked left, then right, before opening the door all the way. 47 ended up burring his face in both his hands. I should have just walked, It would have been less conspicuous. He soon felt the strangest sensation in his entire life. Weightlessness. Rarity seemed to be using her magic to gently lift the crate out of the cart and in through the backdoor. Softly, she set it down and led Zecora into the other room. This backroom was as plane as it was dim. Clearly a storage room.
“Now Zecora, I know I owe you a favor but must you really come out of nowhere and request my whole shop be closed down for the day?”Zecora gave Rarity a petite nod. Rarity lets a long, drawn-out, sigh. “Honestly Zecora, you could have called first”
“With what phone Rarity?”
“Well you have a point. Well couldn’t you have sent a letter?”
“Derpy won’t come into the everfree. Not even for the likes of me” She said with a confident smile. Knowing that she has won. Rarity thinks for a time before she admits defeat, turning the signs from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ “The blinds also. Trust me.” She is inquisitive at first but figures it is just best to comply for right now.
After shutting all the blinds she looks to Zecora “So, you care to let me in on this ‘big’ secret of yours?”
“It is better if I show you Rarity. He is quite the irregularity.” Zecora leads her back to the crate. Zecora unlatches the side of the box and lets it fall to the floor, revealing an empty box.
“Is…this a joke zecora?” Zecora franticly looks in and around the box.
“He was just in here-” Before she could finish the sentence a large figure steps out of the shadows.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Rarity. My name is Anonymous” He kneels down on his left knee and holds his right hand out “But you may call me Anon if you so wish.” She is taken aback by him cautiously putting her hoof in his hand.
“R-rarity” 47 grips Rarity's hoof and gives a firm handshake.
“Pleasure to meet you Rarity. I did not feel it would be appropriate for our first encounter to be one that involved me popping out of a box. I also took the liberty of closing your backdoor, I hope you don’t mind.” He said releasing her hoof
“Not at all darling, the pleasure is all mine. It is refreshing to meet an interesting personality such as your own” Darling, huh. Have you become a fashion pony mei ling?[i/] She maintains a wary distance from 47 “And how might I be of service?”
“Well as you can see I am having a wardrobe malfunction.” He said motioning to his person. Rarity instantly noticing all the frayed hems and small tears. “Zecora said that you would be the most able-bodied pony with the skills to fix this”
“Well Zecora is one of the wisest ponys around. It is a good thing you listen to her.” This statement seems to catch Zecora off guard, causing flush and look away. “Come into the show room and let’s get your measurements darling.” Both Zecora and 47 follow Rarity into one of the corners of the main room of the first floor. It is a chaotic collection of displays, sporting the latest in pony fashion. Rarity seems to snap into some professional mode, taking quick measurements and writing them down on a notepad with her magic. “Left Forearm out” 47 complies with no hesitation. “Ok, now Right.” This goes on for some time. Zecora just watching from the sidelines. She feels an unfamiliar emotion building in her chest. Jealousy. She loathes the sight of Rarity getting physically close to Anonymous. She does not even know him, why must her measurements be so invasive!? Zecora’s distress was almost boiling by the time Rarity was done measuring him. “Alright, I think I have all of your numbers. What can I create for you?”
“A black notch lapel two piece suit, French cuff shirt, Both in wool. Reinforced seams, invisible stitching with a silk lining. I also need the joints to move naturally. If that would not be too much.” He stated bluntly, he intentionally leaves out the black leather gloves. That one is not worth touching.
“I did notice how well your suit was designed. I will need to borrow it so that I can replicate the same technique.” She says giving his shoulder a little tug with her magic. Zecora was on the verge of a literal explosion at this point.
“Ah, yes. Well for my kind to be undressed is considered indecent.” Thank you Anon! Talk some sense into that mare! Rarity thinks for a moment before offering a suggestion.
“Well I would whip you something up real quick. Perhaps A plain white shirt like the one you are wearing and some pants?”
“That would be greatly appreciated Rarity. Thank you again for your generosity.” Rarity beams a bright smile.
“Alright, it won’t take too long, I will need some help making sure it looks correct so I will be having Zecora join me in my room upstairs. In the meantime you are free to relax down here Anonymous. Come along Zecora.” Rarity leads the now fuming Zecora up the winding staircase. Just as 47 was about to head back into the backroom a slight movement catches his eye. Something shifted toward the staircase. Turning around he seen nothing. Mannequins of ponys and skewed fabric lay everywhere. One of the Mannequins did not have a metal pedestal running through the center like the rest. Sneaky. Bets that is some more unicorn magic at work. Readying his body to counter attack, 47 walks over to the Mannequin as nonchalantly as he possibly could. It remained stationary. Thinking back to some training he remembered something that would prove helpful. 47 took a deep breath in through his nose, testing the air. It was stale, more so than the rest of the shop. It lacked that perfume smell. It was defiantly not from around here. Smelt like the Everfree. An assassin? Zecora was spotted then. Not good. [i/]
Zecora stood next to Rarity “Are you ok Zecora? You seemed, distracted” she said tending to the plain white fabric.
“I am fine” She said bluntly. She would need to try a lot harder than that if she wants to fool Rarity.
“Come now Zecora, you can tell me anything.” She said not looking up from her work. “I can keep a secret darling.” The word “Forever” seems to linger in the air for some reason. Truth is Rarity, I don’t know for sure…
She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before confessing her feelings. “Well…the thing is…” Why is this so hard!? Come on Zecora, pull yourself together. “So I found Anonymous a few days ago…”
47 was literally face to face with the mannequin, waiting for it to move. He was close enough to the muzzle the he could feel the hot breath that mannequin exhaled. Ether Rarity is a very sick individual or this is the worst assassin I have ever seen. In a single motion he pulled the a jagged knife out from his sleeve and cuts at the mannequin muzzle. It quickly jerked its head back, planting its fore hooves. The dummy pivots, thrusting its backend at 47, and releases a powerful buck. Side stepping the hit, 47 grips the hilt of the knife tightly to pack his fist for harder hit. He throws a right hook at the ‘would be’ pony’s head.
Zecora shifts from hoof to hoof uncomfortably as Rarity continues to press her with questions. “So you have only known him a few days at most, but he lives with you?” Rarity continued to work on the garment. For her first human shirt it was turning out pretty good.
“Well yes, he was a mess. I was not going to force him to stay out after dark. So in my head ignited a spark. He could keep me company and I would give him sanctuary.”
“That night was over twenty four hours ago. So is he’s not living with you now?” She said rather matter-of-factly. Rarity held the t-shirt up with a pleased look. “This looks correct, right?”
Zecora could not help but flush at the prospect of Anon ‘living’ with her. “I-it is not like that Rarity.” Rarity seemed to move onto the lower half of Anon’s new ensemble. “It is not like he has anywhere to go. His race is pretty rare you know” Rarity was going through various fabrics, looking for the right type and color. Black or a darker blue should work.[i/] She thought.
“Oh I am fully aware of what heShe turned to face Zecora is dear. That nice, younger unicorn always goes on about the history of them. Though she always told me that they were a myth. Interesting to see she was wrong.” Rarity thought for some time before continuing on. “Since he is your secret you should tell her about him” She turned to face Zecore “It would mean the world to her Zecora. I would never tell her myself, even though it pains me.” Rarity walked over to Zecora, disregarding the fabric to the floor. Zecora visibly getting more and more uncomfortable with the situation “Lyra has had such a rough time sense she was kicked out of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, for her overenthusiastic studies.”
“Well…” Zecora could not bear looking Rarity in the eyes at this point. Down casting her gaze her emerald gaze Zecora continues “in the end it is not up to me. Even if it would fill another with glee” Rarity places a hoof on Zecora’s chin and guides her stare up to her sky blue gaze.
“It does not need to be right now darling. Lyra has waited a lifetime to see one. A few more days could not hurt.” Zecora seems to lighten up. Rarity Smiles softly “Besides, She should meet him when he actually has something nice to wear.” The two let out a little giggle. They soon realize that there conversation was not as private as they would have liked it to be. I little white unicorn stood at the door to rarity’s room with stars in her eyes, her eye color was tone brighter than Zecora’s. Her mane and tail were two tone fuchsia with some curl at the ends.
“There is a mythical creature here!?” She managed squeak out in excitement. Rarity give the now irritated Zecora a shy smile as she tried to cope with the turn of events.
“Umm, well sweetie by hear we mean…uh” Rarity clearly struggling to think of some bluff she could use. Zecora trots over to the little filly
“Why yes he is here. You can even see him, but you must make a promise” Sweetie belle gave an overenthusiastic nod
“Anything in the world miss Zecora! Anything at all! I might even get my cuti-” Zecora cut her off with a vary stern look and knelt down to her level
“You mustn’t tell a soul little belle. Not Scootallo, not applebloom, not even your parents. You know what happens to little fillies who don’t keep secrets right?” Sweetie gave a less enthusiastic shake of her head. “They disappear into the night, out of sight. Knowing nothing in life but fright. Try as they might, they are gone without a fight.” Sweetie had a horrified look on her face at this point. Zecora smiled and ruffled her mane. “Go on little one, He will not be here for long. Maybe you could color with him, perhaps sing him a song?” Sweetie belle seemed to light up at the prospect of a new friend to play with.
“I’ll go get my coloring books!” She beamed. As sweetie left Zecora rose to her hooves and faced rarity. To her surprise Rarity seems to be over flowing with joy. Zecora could not help but give an inquisitive raise of her eyebrow
“You are so good with sweetie Zecora. You handled that much better than I could even dream of doing. How are you so good with little fillies?” Zecora gives a little smile
“Maybe I will tell you one day Rarity. For now we should keep working”
The scrap between the two assassins had led the backroom, the mannequin struggling to free itself from 47’s headlock unsuccessfully. 47 had tried to choke it out but the neck was too thick. One thing I know that will work is force.[i/] He tightened up his free fist with the intent to strike as hard as he could. One. Two. Three. Four. 47 landed powerful blows right behind the creature’s ear. He suspected there would be a nerve cluster there. Five. Six. Seven. And he was right. Each hit took a visable toll on the fictitious figure. On the twelfth hit the mannequin collapsed. 47 let it fall to the floor in a heap. He flips the mannequin belly up and mounts the thing, staring into its fake eyes. “w-what are you…?” it choked out in a surprisingly feminine voice.
“You will never know” 47 stated bluntly. Putting one hand on the back of her head and the other on the jaw, He gave a mighty twist. This caused a flection motion within the cervical spine. The vertebra and soft tissues giving way to the flow of force applied with a series of cracks. Needless to say, she died almost instantly. Working off of instinct he flipped the crate so that the opening was face up. The 47 proceeded to stash the body in his crate. Once he closed the lid 47 gave himself a moment to breath. There were a series of small clops rushing down the stairs. Before he had time to act the sound was upon him. A two foot pony with saddlebags that stood at the door with an overexcited smile. When she spoke it almost hurt 47. The only audible noises that resonated from her voice box were squeaks and exasperated gasps. “Calm down little one. I mean no harm. What is your name?” 47 Kneels down and holds out a hand “My Name is Anonymous. You may call me Anon if you wish.” Sweetie Belle was bouncing at this point, her horn letting out faint green sparks. 47 could not though of her as a bomb with a fuse. “It is ok little pony. Calm down.” He waited a few minutes for her to calm down. “Are you able to speak yet?” Sweetie Belle took a few slow breaths.
“Yeah! I just never thought I would meet a living legend before!” She exclaims. 47 can help but feel some form of pride when Sweetie called him a legend.
“My arm is going to get tired if you don’t shake my hand, little one.” Sweetie looked at his outstretched arm with a tilted head.
“What’s a hand and why is it shaking?” He forces a little smile
“Just take your han-hoof and lift it close to mine” She does this with a bit of hesitation. 47 lightly grabs her soft hoof. “Now move it up and down slowly” She does this. “Very good.” 47 lets go and sits in place. “So what’s your name?”
“My name is Sweetie Belle!” she announces proudly. “I am Rarity’s little sister.”
Good thing I read magazines, those articles on kids are proving useful right now. “Oh, Rarity’s sister. I should have guessed. You are very pretty like she is.” He says with a caring smile. “I wish I had a sister like her.”
“Yeah! She is the bestist sister in the whole world!” Sweetie takes her saddlebag off and starts digging through it. “Just look at all these drawings of us together I have!” The floor is soon devoured by a splash of coloring utensils and poorly done drawings.
“Hey, some of these are really good Sweetie Belle. Are you an Artist?” Another lie. Well…A nice lie[i/] He picked up a few of them in an appraising manner to solidify his compliment.
“No. But I want to be like my big sister and make dresses! That is my dream.” She lets out a discontented sigh. “But I am no good with fabric.” 47 placed his hand on top of her head. A Sweetie Belle let out a surprised gasp.
“You have time to practice with your arts Sweetie bell. Just enjoy this opportunity to discover your passions. You will have plenty of time afterwards to prefect what you love to do little one.” With that said he ruffled her mane a little bit and withdrew his hand back to his lap. Sweetie bell smiled wildly
“Thanks a lot Mr. Anon. You are really nice to me, unlike a lot of the school foals. Hey, I have an idea! How about you draw me something and I draw you something! Wont that be fun?” 47 lets out a chuckle.
“Ok, but only one drawing. I will be leaving soon” With much enthusiasm, Sweetie Belle gives him some crayons and paper. Before long she started off on her own. 47 stared down at the paper for some time before anything actually came to mind. He drew the one thing of importance to him, his insignia. Taking a black crayon, he started drawing light guidelines. After a while he switched to red to finish the drawing.
“Ok Mr. Anon, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!” Sweetie Belle presented a crude drawing of the two playing with a large red ball. The colors were spot on but the proportions were not to flattering. 47 Handed the artwork to her face down “For you Miss Belle.”
She turned it over, her eyes filling with tears. To her it looked like a large red rose with a small thorn less stem, lying on the ground. The petals sharp with some symmetry. He clearly but a lot of effort into it. “I love it!” She rushed over to 47 and jumped up onto him, wrapping her forelegs around his neck. “This is the nicest thing anypony has ever done for me. Thank you so much Mr. Anon!” 47 awkwardly half hugged her back and looked up to see Zecora with a big cheesy grin on her face. how long Zecora, how long!? He shot the most sinister glare he could muster in her general direction. She just closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. 47 could not help but smile after seeing Zecora be so silly. This smile was not one he had to force, it was a true genuine moment of happiness.
“I hate to interrupt but, Rarity is done with your new clothes.” Zecora took the folded clothes out of her saddlebag and presented them to him. Cradling the new parasite that he’d acquired, 47 stood up and walked the distance to Zecora.
“I propose a trade Zecora. The girl for the clothes for the girl.”
“Deal.”
47 Pulled on Sweetie a little only to find her squeezing tighter. “Come on now sweetie.”
She buries her head into his shoulder. “But you are so warm Mr. Anon~”
Zecora chimes in “Come now Sweetie belle, Anon Needs to get dressed” A sigh can be heard from Sweetie Belle
“Ok Zecora…” She releases 47 from her vice grip. He gently sets her on the ground. She tries her best to pout but when 47 pats her head she can’t stop herself from smiling “Okok, I’ll let him get dressed. Just let me pick all my stuff up.” Sweetie belle starts rushing around the room collecting her things and tossing them haphazardly into her bag. The only thing that she regards with care is the drawing 47 made. Zecora moved a little closer to 47
“Sorry, she caught rarity and I talking about you” She whispered. 47 took the clothes from Zecora and began to inspect them thoroughly stretching them in certain various places.
“We will talk about it later” He said bluntly. 47 catches sweetie before she has a chance to leave the room. Scooping her up saddlebags and all. “If you are good and listen to Rarity, I will come back and visit. Does that sound nice?” Sweetie gets a huge smile
“I’ll be the best filly in school Mr. Anon. I promise!” With that said 47 sets Sweetie Belle on the floor. She rushes back upstairs and out of sight. Zecora closes the door and breathes a sigh of relief. When she turns around she freezes in her tracks. Anon already has most of his suit off, save for the pants. Zecora blushed furiously and turned her head away.
“You are awfully quiet back there zecora” 47 said while taking off his shoes, gloves, then sliding off his slacks with ease.
“I-I am fine. I did not know you were undressing already” No attempt was made to cover-up the fact that she was flustered. 47 looked back to see Zecora turned away from him. He slides up his new pair of jeans to discover that the fit like a glove. She really is good. Maybe even the best tailor I have had. After securing his pants he took the coin from his old slacks placed it in his new pocket. Looking back at Zecora he could see her shifting back and forth uncomfortably.
“You know I don’t mind if you look Zecora. I am not that scary close up.” She stiffened up just like a board. Before she knew it he was right behind her, his hand running through her fur and up her spine. Oh by the goddess does this feel good. 47 left his hand at the base of her neck hoops, right on her left shoulder. “Zecora” he whispered “It is ok, I am not going to get upset.” Shakily she turned her head and meet 47’s gaze. His expression was softer than normal. Try as she might, her face felt like it was on fire. “You can look at my body, I feel comfortable with you.” 47 could not understand why he was doing this but it felt right. Zecora turned her body to face his. 47 sat on both of his knees with open arms. She slowly circled him taking note of all the Scars and indentations on his body. The Contracture scar that led from his lower right shoulder to his elbow as well as the three vertically orientated contractures on his right breast. A few deeper laceration scars on his left breast. Some of the scars were round, Zecora had no idea how they could have been made. There was one on his chin but the one she found most interesting one was the horizontal scar running through his cutiemark on the back of his head.
“You have been through a lot my friend” She said in a low tone. Zecora decides to make one last round about to make sure she had not missed anything. Her eyes started to look more at his exquisite physique. The muscle definition. His toned back, with every curve in the right place. By the time she made it full circle she had decided This is my stallion and I will make him know that I have chosen him. She lightly puts a hoof on his chest. Now or never Zecora She leans her muzzle forward, eyes close, moving in for a kiss. Before she could plant it 47 stands up abruptly, almost toppling her over.
“Well that got weird.” He said putting on his new white shirt. Zecora’s head cleared and she finally realized the gravity of what she had almost done.
The more Zecora tried to justify her actions the more upset she grew “Anonymous I did not mean! I was not- What I am trying to say!”
“Zecora. Stop talking. You are making it worse for yourself.” He said bluntly, folding up his old suit. Zecora fell back on her haunches and remained silent. “We have some things to talk about Zecora. Very important things.”
Zecora swallowed “W-what things do we need to talk about A-anon?” She could feel herself flush just by saying his name.
“Well mostly about this” He said opening the lid. “Come look.” Zecora rose to her hooves once more and trotted over.
“What is that?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. It was trying to kill us”
Author's Note
Done!
Again, I edit my own stuff so there is bound to be a type-o or five. Just pm me is you see something poke out that is too distracting
6: What Matters, Part 1
The knock echoed once more bringing with it an apprehensive atmosphere. Zecora attempted to get up but 47 stopped her. “I’m fine Anon.”
“It could be-” Zecora cut him off with a wave of a bandaged hoof.
“It will be fine, No need to pine.” She noticed that Anon was a little shocked at her wording. Zecora gave her weary legs a stretch before planting all four hooves firmly on the hard floor. “Feels good to be out of bed. My limbs were beginning to feel like thread.” Another knock, the one a bit louder. “I am hear, no need to fear.” She called out. 47 draw his silverballers and hid in the storage room, ready for conflict. As Zecora opened the door she is greeted by a cheery rarity and ecstatic SweetieBelle; luggage in tow.
“Hello Zecora, we have-” Rarity’s expression hardened as she noticed the various bandages that covered Zecora’s body “Zecora! Are you alright? ”She exclaimed.
“Yes yes, I am fine. Come on in and let me tell you a story of mine.” Rarity cautiously entered with Sweetiebelle closely following; the filly dragging a suitcase bigger than herself.
“Was it that Anon fellow..?” She said in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind her sister. Zecora smiled and shook her head.
“If it was not for Anon I would have not made it. Him and his large amount of grit.” Zecora moved a stool from across the room to the small table then offer the two a seat. Rarity and SweetieBelle sat close together, Zecora sat across from them wearing a soft smile. Rarity looked on in anticipation.
“Go on dear, do tell.”
“I was up some large mounds of stone looking for something. Crag root is difficult to reach you see. I went up when Anon stayed below; looking out for things that prowl. Once I reached the top, my work began. Once I had picked my fill I turned so that I might scan. The earth faltered and cast me to the ground in a thunderous display of force.” Rarity and sweetie were on the edge of their seats, muzzles agape.
“What happened next?” Sweetie squeaked
“From what I could see I was neck deep in rubble. My vision began to fade as the weight of the boulder atop me squeezed the life out breath by breath. Soon I felt another rumble; Anonymous had started digging me out, saving me from death. Next thing I remember was being carried in his arms, then being set down in my bed. He cared for me the next few days and made sure I was fed.”
“Goodness Zecora, You have been through a lot. Where is Anonymous right now?” Sweetiebelle nodded. If on cue 47 opened the storage room door from behind Zecora. The Large dark bags that hung from under his eyes make it very evident that sleep has not been a priority. Before he come walk out of the doorway SweetieBelle dashed up to him and gives his shins a big hug.
“I missed you sooo much Anon!” She squeaked
“That we are Mr. Anonymous. That was very selfless and brave of you. Thank you so much for saving Zecora.”
“I would do it for any of you. Though Zecora makes it sound more extravagant than I remember.” He said with a small grin. Zecora smiled back lightly
“It warms my heart to hear that.” Rarity pointed to the gilded white suitcase “Your new outfit is ready. I do say it is one of my finer works. Go on and try them on.”
“Them?” 47 inquired
“Yes, I took the liberty of making three copies of the original. Go try them on dear. We will wait out here.” 47 gives a nod. After picking the luggage up he proceeded to the storage room, SweetieBelle fallowing close behind. “Give the gentlecolt some privacy sweetie.”
“But…” SweetieBelle looked up at 47 who in turn looked back at rarity
“He is not going to leave sweetie.” The little filly let out a sigh and trotted back to Rarity’s side.
“Your debt is replayed Rarity. Anon enjoys clothes with familiarity.”
Zecora stood “Where are my manors, you two must be parched. Let me make you some tea, I’m sure you will agree?”
“Tea would be lovely dear. Would you like some tea as well sweetie?”
“MmmHmm” The filly waited anxiously at the edge of her seat for the return of 47. Zecora started a small bed of fragmented coals under a much smaller version of her cauldron. This set up was located on a table full of alchemic looking devices. Little racks of plants adorning the wall with small vials of various extracts lined the surface of the area of the workbench. Zecora skillfully poured some water from a jug in the mini cauldron before casting a small pile of bound leaves into the mixture.
“My my, you are in high spirits Zecora. Then again I would be too if I had a big bid strong individual like him looking after me.”
“What about daddy? He makes sure you are ok sis.” Rarity giggled.
“I’ll explain when you get older sweetie”
Zecora turned to Rarity and her sister “It should be done soon.”
“So have you laid any move on him Zecora? Surely he has made the first moves.” Rarity whispered.
“Mmhmm, I will but a put book on hold at the library. It should have a few pointers, tips, and tricks for you.” The steam began to rise from the Zebra’s brew. She blew on the coals causing them to burn out without a fuss. “I always wondered how you can have an open flame in here without the tree catching fire” Zecora poured three small cups of tea then brought the dinks over on a small wooden tray, setting them down at the table.
“Zebra magic, a classic.” 47 Exited the storage room with a smile on his face.
“Rarity, I may have you make my suits from now on. They all fit perfectly.” He said tightening the tie
“My, you do look quite dashing.”
“I must admit, It does feel kind of strange though. I can’t put my finger on it. Did you do something to it?”
“Well I did weave a few spells in. One to help the fibers resist filth and another to strengthen them. For less wear and tear. Only problem it you are not supposed to notice those. Most unicorns can’t notice them. Not even twilight.” Rarity put a hoof to her chin and began to think. “Strange…”
“Well that is interesting indeed. How can I repay you?” 47 looked down to see that SweetieBelle had already attached herself to one of his legs.
“Pay me? No no no, the fee was paid long ago. You don’t owe me a bit.” Rarity looked at Zecora who smiled back.
“Well I do have a large order coming up. It would be lovely if you could watch Sweetie for a night so I could get my work done.” SweetieBelle’s eyes grew larger at the prospect of being able to spend a whole day with Anon.
“If that is your request then I accept.” The two promptly agreed that Anonymous and Zecora watching over SweetieBelle three days from now. That would give the two enough time to change the storage room into a second, smaller, bedroom. Rarity and Zecora chat for some time giving SweetieBelle a little more time to play with 47. Once the two sisters left with the suitcase 47 let out a sigh of relief “That filly sure has a lot of energy.” 47 said, picking himself up off the floor.
“I don’t mean to be a pest but, you should rest.” Zecora said in a firm manner.
“I’m fine Zecora.” His defiant words irritated Zecora. She nudged him toward the bedroom with a hoof.
“I don’t remember asking if you were fine. Now rest while the day remains benign.” Her tone remaining firm. 47 quickly realized that she was not going to budge on the issue. He gave in without too much of a fuss. Zecora herded him into her bed before smiling once more. “That was not so hard. Though I will be cleaning up I will be on guard.”
“I count on it.” She said with a wink.
The obscuring clouds cast a dingy shadow across the Everfree, as if thwarting the moon’s attempts to deluge its eliminating rays below. 47 eyes slowly opened. It was dark. Really dark. A mass of warmth lay at 47’s side, clinging to his Right arm. ”Sneaky zebra…” His eyes gradually closed again. The light snores of Zecora brought a small smile to his lips, though he did not know why. Moments passed turning into minute. Something was off. A tapping amidst the nighttime noises rang throughout the hut. 47 was able to discern the origin of the noise; the front door. Zecora’s snoring had stopped. “Check the door, I got your back.” Zecora slowly walked to the door, readying for anything. 47 tailed her. His phantom like figure only exposed by the glinting skin of his silverballers. The door creaked open revealing a hooded pony. “C-can I help you?”
“Try anything and they won’t be able to find all your pieces.”
“I-uh yeah. I won’t try anything…I swear!” Felix’s legs began to visibly shake.
“Good.” 47 shut the front door as Zecora lit a few candles to cover the main room in a dim light. 47 motioned to Felix’s dark saddle bag. “What’s in the bag Felix?”
“J-just a map. And half a daisy sandwich…” Zecora give a nod to 47.
“Go sit.” The stallion meekly nodded before complying. Once 47 closed the door Zecora started covering up the windows with some thick cloth she had fashioned. 47 watched Felix closely as he emptied the sack on the table. The Sliverballer was aimed center-mass; hammer drawn back, his finger on the trigger.
“Sorry for the poor quality of the map. The whole thing is hoof draw by me. I am not cut out to be an artist.” Zecora approached with an air of caution.
“What is this map? Are they planning a trap?”
“Not really. They are having some important stuff shipped to the Castle. This is the route they will be taking.”
“What are they shipping?”
Felix took a bite of his sandwich “Donno. Just know they have been waiting for it.”
Zecora put her hoof on the map “Why is this spot circled way up here? Is that some kind of weir?”
“Yeah, that dam is were we meet up with the other team.”
“We?” 47 questioned
“Yeah, my team is being sent to pick the package up from there and deliver it.” As the night endures 47, Felix, and Zecora plan a smash and grab mission for the upcoming shipment. Felix relays that six lightly armed guards, this included himself, will be escorting the cargo. The group will be traveling back roads for most of the journey making the ambush that much easier. Much of those roads were flanked by thick foliage according to Zecora.
The narrow road cut an uneven pathway through the lush green trees and shrubbery. Intertwining vines lined the sides of the road like a tapestry. The area was Far East of Zecora’s hut. A few hours travel. The sun started to glance over the horizon signaling the official start of morning. Felix traveled at the back of the group with another. Two pawns lounged on the cart carrying a singular crate while the two newest members pulled. Felix had been trotting along for time without speaking a word. Not only was he disgusted with the other members, he knew they were going to die soon. ”Why are they taking so long? Did they call it off? If so that would be nice for me. I could really use the extra bits for a job well done.” The deeper in thought Felix delved the slower he trotted. “Hey guy, you doin alright?” The stallion asked, nudging on Felix.
“Yeah, just bored.” The Stallion’s hooded robe had bones wove into the fabric meaning he has killed before.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be back in no time. Return time is always better than arrival.”
“Yeah, at least it feels like it.” Felix shed a little smile
“When we get back we can harass some of the slaves. Just you and me man. I have a few I like to pick on.” He said with a smirk.
“Um, uh. Sure. That sound-ah!” Felix smacked the side of his neck with a hoof and scrapped off what looked like a large bug.
“The heck is that thing!?” He said staring down at it. The other stallion stopped to inspect the fraudulent insect.
“Donno. Look at the stinger on that guy. Huge!” Another ‘insect’ lodged its stinger deep in the neck of the Stallion. Causing him to yelp “Damn things!” He said franticly swiping at it with a hoof.
“Halt!” The cart stopped. “What’s the problem back there you two?” The female inquired from atop the cart.
“Just bugs!” the stallion replied.
“H-hey, I don’t feel s-so good.” Felix said in a woozily. His body swaying from left to right before collapsing to the ground in a heap. He was soon followed by the other stallion.
The hooded mare turned to her companion who appeared to be sleeping “Get up! We go two down.” He remained motionless. “I said get up!” She pulled his hood down to find three large bugs imbedded in his neck. “The hell is happening!” Before she had a chance to react she felt a sharp piece of metal pierce her flesh and wedge itself behind her left scapula. She was then pushed down onto the floor of the cart and held in place by 47’s knee. Reaching into the front pocket of his suit, 47 drew a suppressed silverballer and put an inch hole in head of one and the neck of the other before they could unhitch themselves from the front of the cart. Both promptly collapsed to the ground.
“What the hell are you!?” The cobalt mare said, struggling under his weight.
“What’s in the Box?” 47 said calmly as he holstered his weapon.
“Why don’t you fuck off!?” 47 grabbed the handle of the knife firmly before twisting the blade slowly. The mare let out a scream of pain and began to kick. 47 bore all his weight onto the knee posted on her side.
“Watch your language when a lady is present. What is in the crate? I won’t ask again.”
“Unfortunately, I believe you.” 47 removed the knife from her side before making a jagged incision across her throat, this exposed her now severed arteries and windpipe. She grasped at her neck with her fore hooves for a moment before she went limp, the blood continuing to flow feely onto the cart bed. 47 looked up to see an asparagus colored Zecora with Cal Poly stripes “How long until that wears off?”
“A few hours” She said, averting her eyes from the gruesome scene before her.
“Ok, let’s grab the crate and get going then.”
Stoppage leaned a large metal mallet against the crystalline archway, dents and crystal imprints perforated the weapon’s surface “damn, this wall can really take a beatin.” After a few moments of rest he made his way back to the main tent. Alcipper was pouring herself over the timesheets when he entered.
“They’re the late” she huffed. “Why are they the late!?” She swept the desk clean with a hoof, casting stacks of paper to the cave floor.
“chomp’n at the bit aint done no good Al” The subordinates slowly shuffled out knowing full well that Alcipper and Stoppage don’t mix.
“You calling me that one more times…” Stoppage took a step back.
“Whoa whoa, settle down now. I am sure they just broke a wheel’o something.”
“I’ll be breaking the wheel-” The front flap gave way to three pawns. Felix pulled his hood down and gave a salute. “Report!”
Felix trembled at her command “W-we were raided.”
“You what!?” Felix felt like her crimson eyes were going to burn a hole in his coat.
“R-raided. The ones that w-were not knocked out were killed.” He shuttered, remembering the bloody sight.
“Not like the guys were armed anyhow. Bound to happen.” Stoppage said dismissively. Alcipper though for a moment before grabbing some paper off the ground.
“We'll fix that.” Alcipper scribbled some orders down before giving the paper to Felix “You be good boy and give this to bishops, ya?”
“Y-yes ma’am” He signaled to his companions and they trotted off. Back into the depths of the cave.
“If I could just get this door opens…Maybe he will notice me.” Stoppage snickers “Don’t”
“Spoiler alert-”
“I swear…you say one more words” her teeth gritted
Stoppage whispered “He will never notice you~” A bellowing laugh ensued after his words. Alcipper sent the desk flying, aimed at Stoppage. He simply head-butted through the wood frame. His laughter only stopping so that he could fill his lungs with air. Sophronius walked in on the oddest situation. Alcipper had taken everything that was not nailed down and had smashed it over Stoppage who was laying on the cave floor laughing and kicking at the air like a school colt.
“Curious. Vould you mind telling me vat sort of ritual this is? I’m quite interested.” Sophronius Asked taking out a little notepad from his saddlebag.
“It is me, teaching him lessons!” She said, smashing the last remaining stool over Stoppage’s form. He lay in a pile of furniture debris giggling madly
“Oh! I sure lernt mah lesson mommy! Vee hee hee!” Alcipper loomed over the steel pony with a fiery glare.
Sophronius cocked his head to the side “Does he normally call you mommy…?”
The sun beamed brightly from its midday position. Felix had just made it back to ponyville from the ruins and he could not be happier. His light blue eyes and smile shine in the afternoon sun. ”Sure feels great to be home again. Ill pop into the shop and see if Mr. Quill needs any help.” Felix trotted along happily, waving to ponys along the way. Once the shop, Quills and sofas, is in sight Felix puts on a professional exterior. Upon entering He is met by a maze of Sofas and display cases containing all sorts of quills. After trotting through a few aisle he finds the stallion at the back of the store. His slicked mane, a dead giveaway. Felix approaches Mr. Quill “Hey boss, got any work available?”
“Yes I do. Some-pony just ordered a new sofa and paid the delivery fee. I was going to do it myself but, if you are up for the task.”
“Yes sir. You can count on me!” Mr. Quill shows Felix the particular sofa. It was a smaller red one with a singular arm. Felix loads it onto a small pull cart with no hassle. Before he heads off he is given directions. Felix was pleased to know the destination was a familiar one, him and his wife go to on a regular basis, Carousel Boutique. He rings the bell and is promptly greeted by Rarity who is very excited for her new addition to the Shop. She tips him two bits for the help moving it in then waves him off. Felix promptly returns the cart to the Shop. Mr.Quill was locking up when he returned.
“Closing the shop early today?”
“Ah Felix, just the stallion I was hoping to see. Let me help you get that thing off” The stallion helped unhitch Felix from the harness. “I was just going to leave the back open for you but I guess everything lined up just fine.”
“Yes sir. Big date or something?”
“Got a dinner planed with the Mrs.” After the two but the cart away and locked the shop up Mr. Quill gave Felix a small sack of bits “Our standard arrangement.”
Felix smiled “Thank you sir. Will you have anything permanent opening up soon?”
“I’m afraid not kid. These things just happen on the fly.”
“I understand sir. No hard feelings”
“Just don’t forget to check in every once and a while. I may have some small stuff that need doin and by gum you are the one to do them.”
Felix could not help but feel a bit of pride well up in his chest when he heard those words. “Thank you sir. You have a nice night.” The two part ways with a hoofshake. Felix Attempts judging the time from the sun but ends up asking a pony for the time “4:32!?” He picked up his pace to a near gallop as he rushed home. Through narrow streets and dingy alleyways he traversed every shortcut he knew to get home as soon as possible. He eventually reaches what looks like a glorified shack. The two bedroom abode was small but it was all his family could afford at the moment. Once he opens the door, Felix is greeted by a little filly. Arora was a pale yellow filly with a blue and purple mess for a mane.
“Daddy!”
“Hi sweetie” He said giving her a big hug. “Where is mommy?”
“She is in her room again. I got an A on my test today!” She smiled a bright little smile. In that moment Felix remembered why he pushes himself so hard. To help provide for this little filly. “Remind me to get you something special then.” He said, ruffling her mane.
“I will” Arora dashed off to her room.
Felix knocked lightly on the master-room door. “Honey? You doing alright in there?”
“What? Ya. Come in Felix. You don’t need to knock on your own door.”
Felix cracked the door open and poked his head in, a bashful smile smeared across his face. “Are you sure?” Cherry Berry looked over from a pile of papers set atop a makeshift desk. She sat upon an oversized spool. Felex “How was your day my lovely little entrepreneur?”
“It’s better now that you are home.” She brushed her hay colored mane out of her face “How was yours?” Felix entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“I’ve had better.” He took out a small tied bad of bits. “I found some odd jobs. Made some money.” He walked over to the desk and laid the coins out before giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Twelve bits huh? That is ten present of what we need for the month. I think I sank another business before it even started today.” Felix put his hooves up on her shoulders and began to gently rub in a circular motion.
“What business did you sink?”
“Well today I tried the hot air balloon ride.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again. This time it caught fire.”
“I bet that was quite a sight” He could feel her beginning to relax. The tension draining out of her muscles gave way to throaty groans of approval.
“Yeah, it is a shame the spa sisters won’t let a stallion work there. You work wonders with your hooves.” She said, beginning to lean back into his chest.
His voices was near a whisper when he spoke. “The trick is to get intimate with your…partner.” Cherry looked up at Felix who was looking down. Their blue eyes met. Felix slowly pressed his lips against hers in a passionate embrace. Her hot breath taunting him to go farther. The two parted for only a moment before they reconnected with another kiss; her tongue lightly caressing his lips, begging for attention. There was a light knock at the door
“Mom? Dad? I can’t find Mr. Roboto. Can you help me look?” The couple let out a sigh
“I’ll help her look Cherry. You say here keep lookin good.” She giggled and followed him to the door
“Daddy is going to help you look sweetie.” Felix and Arora spent the next hour looking throughout the house. Not one blanket was left unturned, the piles of junk thoroughly picked through, toy box scoured. “Well shoot. Where could it have gone?” Felix Stepped out the front door for a moment to get some fresh air. Right outside the door lay a note with a bright red windup robot pony. “What the…”
”Dear Felix, meet us three nights from the moment you read this. Signed, Your EverFree Friends.” ”How did they get in? When did they get in-“ His thought was cut off by Arora’s voice “Did you find Mr. roboto?”
“Y-yeah. Here you go sweetie.” He handed her the toy but not before she could give him a big hug.
“I love you so much! Thank you!”
At the break of day Felix found himself swiping low hanging vines away from his face. His irritation with thick foliage growing stronger with each creeping plant that he must fend off. “Stupid Zebra and her stupid extortion...” He continued to grumble until he spotted Zecora’s bizarre residence. “I, Felix, Have arrived.” He announced. Cautiously he approached the door and knocked. Zecora Opened the door and met Felix with a glare
“Must you be this conspicuous? It is really quite ridiculous.” Zecora let him in and eyed the saddlebag suspended from his side “What is in the satchel? Possibly something for Battle?” Felix just rolled his eyes.
“Not even close. Just a lunch and a couple of snacks.” 47 emerged from a room Felix was unfamiliar with.
“Show us.” Felix complied without hesitation. He took out a sandwich and a few other goodies and placed them on the table before offering the limp cloth to 47 for inspection. Zecora watched Felix as her friend searched the back for any sort of hidden compartments. “Seems you have been trustworthy to say the least.” Felix gave a nod
“I really don’t want to die.” The stallion gave a nervous laugh.
“Is that the only reason?” 47 inquired. His height made it easy to loom over Felix like the shadow of death.
“W-well you also are hurting those awful ponys...” He tried his best to maintain his composure but failed miserably.
“I find if works to be honest, also capable of holding a promise.” Zecora said with an appraising gaze. 47 looked at her with a cocked brow. She responded with a nod. 47 handed Felix his saddlebag
“So you’re trustworthy. Does that also mean you’re an asset?”
“A what?” He tilted his head in confusion. Zecora seemed unsure as well. ‘Anon’ just sighed
“Can you be of use to us?” Felix though for a bit
“Well if you pay me I can be anything you want.” Zecora held in a laugh. 47 just gave her a look dirty minded zebra.
“So your life is not worth enough to you?” Felix remained steadfast about the subject.
“Not in this regard.” A professional appearance showed through his cowardice “When you have me come out to the everfree under threat of death and then make me do stuff, you take away any potential I have for making bits.” He took a breath “There for I am not helping myself or my family. I am as good as dead to anyone I actually care about.” This sudden burst of logic seemed to shock both Zecora and 47. “Like I said, if you pay me I am happy to do whatever you two want. But I am not going to keep being used...not like this.” He seemed content with that last part added. There was a long silence before zecora spoke up.
“We may have not been completely Fair. From now on we shall pay you for your air.”
“I will take that as a yes” Felix said, letting out a breath he did not know he was holding. 47 seemed indifferent.
“So we called you here because we have procured an object from the cult.” 47 said calmly. “Care to have a look and see what you think?” Anon motioned to the doorway he originally came through to meet with the others.
“Well lets have a look.” Felix moved his way past 47 and into what looked like a storage room. The window was covered by a thick cloth, the room lit by candle light. In the center of the room sat a sparkling sphere resting comfortably on a silk pillow. “oh wow...beautiful...”
“Have you any idea what it could be? What it was, we could not agree.” Zecora chimed in.
“No idea, but if you got this from the shipment that I was in than it is magical. Powerful too.” Felix’s gaze was locked on the orb and its crimson luminosity.
“They would charge you with guarding something magical and powerful? Are they that foolish?” The agent found himself admiring the orb as well.
“Foolish, maybe. You are the only ones to have stood up to those bullies. They underestimate you both. Clearly the two of them have some kind of synergy. Like a team but better.” Zecora looked away bashfully at the comment. The three soon took seats around the small table, Anon knelt down on his knees as usual as the ponys sat. It was very strange to 47 to witness them sitting like humans. “So is that all you called me here for? to identify that object? If so im sorry to say but I have no idea.”
Zecora let out a sigh “I was afraid of such a thing. Perhaps you can mingle and get one to sing?”
Felix though for some time before answering “Well I could, you are paying after all.” He gave a smile.
Crickets and noise causing insects joined into the night time orchestra for an audience who was forever late. “So we are paying him now. Have you forgotten about the camp?”
Zecora huffed “I have not, nor should you. Give a moment and look through his point of view. Do not be blinded by emotion. With simple coin we own his devotion.” 47 seemed confused at the statement.
“Emotion? No. If we can sway him with money then someone else can.”
Zecora snorted “The same could be said about death. Anyone can threaten to take his last breath. We must be fair and kind. And only then will he mind.” He thought on Zecora’s words for some time.
“You are wise, for a zebra.”
“And you, for a human.” She said with a snicker. She lifted the lid of her hidden floor compartment to reveal a large hoard of golden coins. Anon was taken aback with the sheer amount she had hidden away. “I have no use for these. But you can trade to pony folk with ease.” She smiled and began counting an amount to put into Felix’s saddlebag.
“Resourceful. Just one of those coins would go a long way with my people.” 47 said as he watched her scoop a large sum into the bag. “Such a difference in value...So how do you think Felix is faring? I mean they are sure to notice the difference in cloaks. There is no way they could believe that pony to be a killer.”
“Heeey, Felix right? I see you earned your bones, good job man!” Praise and admiration was heaped upon him as he made his way down the eery halls. The castle of the two sisters was anything but welcoming. And yet, here was Felix, being welcomed as a hero. He also notice that some ponys were forced to pay others. They had betted that he would never kill another pony. Secretly they were right, but for the fact his life is on the line he will leave them to their ignorants. he brushed his dark mane to the side as he tried to remember the way down to the lower caves. Where most of the slaves were kept. Before he had a chance to actually find his objective Felix turned a corner To find Alcipper and two of her underling trotting down the path. The mare caught sight of Felix and picked up pace.
“You cause the commotion!” Well i’m dead. I am so dead. Game over man, Game over. Felix began to visibly shake. “This iz good hearing!” She met him with a grin. “Congradulations”
“Thanks..?” Felix was genuinely confused at this point.
“Some of us were worry that you may be trator but then you get your first kill! So, how was it? Fast and brutalz, or nice and slows?” Alcipper was absolutely giddy. “Wait, Stallion or mare!? Or...foal!?” She hopped with glee. “tell tell!” She was like a kid in a candy store.
“uh...what?”Felix asked in a perplexed manor.
“Tell us about your first kill!” Alcipper waited with a shark tooth grin. The fact she was baring teeth at Felix made him almost faint. He took a breath, “It was just some stallion. I-I just knocked him down and stomped his head a few times. It popped like a grape.” As he finished telling his fabricated story, Felix attempted a big grin.
Alcipper looked him over for a moment before huffing “Hardly fun. Come. Walk with me.” She waved the other two off with a striped hoof. “Begones.” They promptly left. She began leading him down the path she had just come from. “Why you in such a hurry to come this way?” Alcipper inquired.
“I was just going to see one of the bishops down in the caverns.”
“Oh? Whyz that?” She said with a cocked eyebrow.
His eyes darted from left to right as he tried to recognize where he was at. “Well I was curious why the zebra took that shipment. We had plenty other caravans before...why now?”
“We think she was after the magical item inside.” She lead The stallion through a, cast iron, barred door. Then down a dimly lit spiral staircase of etched stone. The flicking touches illuminating the way down.
“Magical item? like a making wand?” Felix said, feigning ignorance.
“Whatever they knows.” She said with a smirk. She showed him to a table that held grisly looking tools that had been stained from repeated use. “This is work stations. Write all down on paper. Age, genders, all. If they live after you are done, send them to the minez. We always have work for them.” She smiled “And have fun.”
“But what about the magical thing!?”
Her eyes shifted to Felix’s “what about it..?”
“Are we just going to let her keep it? I mean who know what she could do with that thing.” Felix moved some of the tools around on the wood table until they were all lined up and perfectly straight. “What if she explodes the castle or something?” Alcipper rolled her eyes.
“Every times you talks, you become less attractives.” Felix was not prepared for that statement. Not one bit. His face showed that he was very uncomfortable “She will not be blowings anything up. Unless this zebra is versed in strange and obscure magics she will have no ideas.”
Zecora inspects her foreleg “Is she insane or, am I really so bland?” Anon looked at Felix in a deadpan manner.
“Hey, that was all I could get out of her without being suspicious!”
“I was not being sarcastic.” 47 dropped the stallion's saddle bag in front of him. Some of the bits that lined the bag. Felix’s eyes grew wide. “This information was helpful. You are free to take your money and leave.” Felix wasted no time taking his money and leaving. “Well looks like you were right. Gambles are too risky. Next time we should just kill whatever is in our way.” Zecora let out a sigh.
“That is rarely how things work here Anon, You must manipulate. You can not use force and intimidate.” 47 motioned to himself
“I am a mythical creature here. I can’t manipulate.” Zecora gave him a smile and nudged him with her hoof
“What I hear is that you need me. Do you agree?” 47 met her pale green gaze and frowned “Come now Anon, you must not be some glum. We must see that all those ponies reap what they so, to the full sum.”
Felix trotted back to ponyville with his head held high. This is so much money! Finally something goes right for a change. Now we can pay the rent and get Arora new toys and a new school bag, oh! And cherry deserves some flowers and… His mind raced with prospects that had never thought possible. He even considered moving to a high end house once he started making more coin. The sun was beginning to dip behind the canterlot mountain when he made it home. The moment he opened the front door he was met by his daughter “Daddy!” he was already in her vice like grip of a hug.
“There there, Diddy is here.” Oh celestia, I have spent too much time around Zebras. He looked down to see her beautiful smile and bruised eye. wait what!? “What happened Arora!?” The little filly looked away and puffed out her cheeks
“Just some pony’s at school being mean...”
Cherry Berry had entered the room at this point,“ Cheerilee had sent all the fillies home that were involved. She also said she she would talk with the parents of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. This should only be a one time thing.”
“But what if it’s not?” Felix inquired, clutching his daughter close to his breast. “Why if one of those little bit-punks tries to fight with Arora again?”
“She will suspend them from class” Cherry said, matter-of-factly.
“If the parents don’t punish the fillies it will happen again. You know that dear.” Cherry let out a sigh
“Well I got paid today.” He said, taking off his saddle bag.
“T-two hundred? In a week?” She snatched up the bag and quickly counted only to find exactly 200 bits. Felix had stashed the remaining hundred somewhere in the everfree for an emergency. “This is enough for food and rent for the month!” She beemed
“I know, this temp job pays well. The hours are strange and erratic but I can deal with that.” He looked down “And you little lady, need to stop getting in fights.”
“It is taken care of. Stop worrying.” Felix knew better though. Bully’s don’t just stop. I will need to do something about this myself
Zecora took a pouch of crushed root to her brew and stirred, 47 Just watched her from across the room. He still admired how dexterous she was with her hooves. Such a strange movement in the shoulders to perform that sort of action. They must be double jointed in multiple areas. The way that she stands bipedal supported his theory. The way she swayed her hips with each push or pulling motion. Then again she was glancing back every now and again. She was clearly putting on a show. 47 did not mind at this point, it makes her happy. Why not. As long as she is happy that is all he cares about at this point is keeping her happy. After all she did take him in. And feed him. He began to to think of all the kindness she had showed him. Much like the church. Zecora likes to take gambles, maybe I should take one and tell her the truth about my real life. How I am not from here. How there is another world other than this one. She may take it well. She may not. If she does not I should have a backup plan. “Anon?” 47 realized that he was just staring at the ground in though. The zebra’s words snapped him back into reality. She was only inches from his leg. “Are you ok?”
“I am fine Zecora, just thinking about what you said about taking a chance. I think I might take my chances with something.” He said, meeting her gaze. She flushed and looked away
“Oh, how forward of you. Perhaps it is an act that requires...two?” 47 smirked and shook his head a bit.
“It is about me. This may come as a shock to you but I am not from around here.”
She snickered “I know this. Perhaps there is something I missed?”
47 looked at Zecora with is classic deadpan expression “I mean that I am not from here, not from equestria.” It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did Zecora almost fainted.
The new information about 47 hit zecora harder than anything else she had experienced. A grave mistake on her part and a betrayal of trust on 47’s. Lying was easy for him, considering he was made for tactical assassination and espionage, the business of killing. But To see how it actually affected some one that he might genuinely care for, That hurt him more than he would like to admit. For the next few days zecora moped around the hut, mostly with a glazed look on her face. She also stopped eating for the most part, not that there was much to eat. The time and bits it took to get this far into their investigation rendered the food stocks barren. On the third day of this nonsense 47 finally said something. “You can’t go on like this forever Zecora, your physiology requires you to eat.” Instead of a proper response, the zebra offered nothing but a glare in his general direction. “Made it very clear why I was able to tell you before. Time was a key factor in determining whether or not this was reality. I had to make sure that I was not on earth. You can understand my caution.”
Zecora gave a frown. “You could have told me sooner - being lied to makes me feel like a real loser.” This made 47 rather uncomfortable. “I know you are smart enough to figure out this was not your native land. Especially since you have been staying here in a magical Marshland.”
47 let out an ill contented sigh. “Zecora, you are only upset because you think that it is ok to be upset.That concept alone leads to unnecessary complication in your emotional state.” Zecora turned from sorrowful to enraged in response. “I made a mistake, clearly. I anticipated you as a threat and not as an ally. And for that I am sorry. In my defence I will try and make it up to you. How? Well that is up to you.”
Zecora let out an irritated huff “We will see. First, some tea.” 47 remained silent as she scrutinized the lack of supplies. This included her shortage of coin. “I need to peddle wares again. Lest we lose sight of our campaign.” A faint knock drew her attention to the hut entrance.
Without missing a beat 47 announced “Felix, you may enter.”
Slowly he enters with a perplexed expression “How did you know it was me?”
Zecora mostly ignored felix, seeing as he interrupted their argument. 47 responded “I don’t remember summoning you. What do you want?”
“Well that is the problem. Are you done with me? I mean, I did appreciate the extra coin but I could do without the constant threats of violence. It’s not healthy and all.” He said with a slight quiver to his voice. Clearly Felix was not prepared to go into any sort of confrontation with the killer.
“I will contact you when we require your services again. Until then remain inconspicuous and gather intel.” 47 said
“Well maybe I want to get paid for my time like normal? It would only be fair after all.” Though felix was scared he stood his ground. The idea for a better life for his family was worth the risk.
47 folded his arms in response “You seem to think this is a negotiation. The answer is no and will remain as such. Now do what I told you and wait for further instruction.”
47's response deflated Felix quicker than a needle to a balloon. "Well, I... crap."
“You have nothing, And without us you are nothing.” 47's response was quick and concise. The look of defeat on Felix's face was enough to convince 47 he would not break their little pact. If he had insisted on arguing, termination would be acceptable. Defeated, Felix eventually left the hut back to wherever he had came from. Zecora seemed indifferent about the situation as a whole. Her depressive state had finally broken, and the hunger was setting in.
47 seen this as a perfect opportunity to gain some favor back from the striped equine. "Zecora, it's not easy for me to have friends. In fact most friends that I had in my world were more like acquaintances. The only real friend I had was Diana, and she was just a voice in my ear for years until the day I had a put a bullet in her. There was also a time when I was a young boy and I had made a friend. A little long eared rabbit whose fur was the color of the snow I had grown so accustomed to, in Russia. My father, the doctor who had cloned me, saw this as a failure. He had attempted to eliminate emotions altogether and I was a shining example they had failed. Some of my brothers, seen this as an opportunity. Their idea of a prank was to leave my beloved friend lying dead on my bed, neck snapped”. As mad as she was, zecora could not help but feel bad for him.
“I am so sorry 47, That must have been difficult...”Zecora had even broken away from her traditional rhyme.
“In retrospect, Zecora, it made it a lot easier to do what was necessary when I had returned. I made sure to return the gesture to the one’s who had murdered my friend.” Zecora seem to be bewildered for a time. In combination with her sad state.
Sometime later zecora called out "47, I've come to a decision that you may not like but I feel that is in the best interest of us both. It is time that we show you to Lyra, to ensure our relationship’s growth."47 began to protest but before he vocalized his distress he came to the realization that negotiation was non-optional in the situation. In this situation he had become Felix and Zecora was in fact 47, technically speaking. Zecora also made it apparent that she was going to give the orb to twilight tomorrow at the market and that Lyra was coming home with her. 47 reluctantly agreed to the meet.
It took quite some time but Sophronius was able to figure out the secrets what's about the crystal door shut. "So simple, vhy vas not able to see it before? Vho knows... Now it makes sense. Blood! Old magics require blood." He cackled. Sophronius had ordered a large portion of the slave force to remain in the dome-like cavern as his men secretly drew a blood seal on the crystalline door. Sophronius did this for a very particular reason. If something violent and hostile to emerge from the gate with enough bodies between the gates at the exit. That would give the nights enough time to close off the tunnel.The results were catastrophic to say the least. The moment the seal had been finished, it vanished, soaking into the thirsty crystal structure.
The earth shook, giving way to small boulders it fell within the confined area. At that moment of beam of pure crimson energy erupting into a beam stretching far into the sky. The moment it touched the atmosphere it lit the sky ablaze with a scarlet aurora. The two massive doors creaked open, causing loose crystals to fall from the frame. As the doors opened, light seemed to drain from the room as though it was being sucked in by some sort of black hole, beyond the door was absolute darkness. As if looking at a black canvas that would encompass your entire field of view with a single glance in its direction.Before the door had even opened 2 feet strange looking arms had grasped the edges of the door and began pulling themselves forth into this new world. Emaciated insect-looking things with massive armored forearms, three fingered hands with jagged claws, and a tripod of spear like-legs sprouting from their armored thorax.Their exoskeleton seemed to be made of a durable and dark chitin. Once able to squeeze their strange bodies through, they began a ripping the residents apart in a frenzy. Devouring all in sight with powerful mandibles. Stoppage, Alclipper, and Sophronius worked quickly to seal off the entrance to that section of the tunnel. The whole time Sophronius marveled at the beings. Rejoicing at this recent discovery and "pleasant" turn of events. Despite Alclipper's obvious affections towards Sophronius, even she seemed a little off put by the situation.
After a night of brewing potions Zecora awakes early, eager to return to the market. She takes note to remind 47 that she will be bringing Lyra by when she returns. At this point 47 knows better than to argue and just accepts the situation as is, and what little he can do about it. Soon Zecora was off with a small cart packed full of wares and potions to sell at the market. 47 takes notice of the charms that she plans on hocking. Must be trinkets that she made with little to no effort, society is what he expects it to be here they should sell with little to no effort. As Zecora spends her early morning selling goods and receiving money, she notices the sky is a lot more ominous than it has any right to be considering the time of day. In fact this worries her so much that she asked twilight sparkle as the mare passes by. "Oh twilight, why does the sky bear such gloom? Should it not change, since it is almost past noon?"
She responds, her tone hushed and worried "I'm not sure myself but I'm going to get to the bottom of it if it's the last thing I do. I am on my way to canterlot at this very moment. I would ask you to join me but you seem to be preoccupied at this moment."
"Ah yes, quite so. I hope you gain the knowledge to solve this and perhaps make a better afterglow?" Twilight wishes zecora farewell before trotting off towards the train station. The zebra sees twilight sparkle meet up with her friends and head off in a quick fashion. A few hours into her sales she spots Lyra browsing other ponies wares. It took a few tries but the zebra finally waved down the one unicorn. “Greetings there Lyra, How would you like to unravel a great mystery that will equalize? Perhaps something that is just more than a surprise.” The zebra struggled to find the correct and concise words to adequately entice the unicorn without completely blowing 47's cover
Lyra cocks a single eyebrow at the zebra "oh, what do you mean by that? After finding out what bonbon does as a profession not much surprises me these days."
“I assure you this is no small thing that I am offering. You might say that it is perception altering.” Zecora admitted to her side to that sounded a lot better in her head, now it sounds like she is just offering the unicorn psychedelics of some sort. She just gave a sheepish grin.
Lyra smiles in response "well then that is something I look forward to." The zebra tells Lyra to meet her back at her stall around 3 o'clock.She should be finished packing what's left of her wares by then. The rest of the day goes on without a hitch despite the skies ominous malfunction. Lyra seemed quite excited about the whole ordeal. By 2 o'clock she was already waiting at the zebra stall. She even had her saddlebags all packed for the trip. The trek back to the hut was not as strenuous as the zebra had predicted. Seems as if the ponies of ponyville missed her and her brews more than she had anticipated because they cleaned her out of all that she had prepared for that day. The whole way back to the zebra's hut, the unicorn seemed to bounce. When they had arrived at the their destination, Lyra looked like she was about to burst from excitement. As the zebra reached for the handle to her hut, the door was opened by the surprise she had in store for Lyra.
Lyra's expressions change with each passing second she laid her great golden eyes upon the bipedal being. First she was shocked, then she looked to Zecora with confusion mixed with sadness thinking that it was all just a trick, then she looked back to 47 who had ushered them inside at that point. When 47 had closed the door behind them Lyra knew for a fact that she was not dreaming. The all who had laughed at her and pushed her away from her beliefs were wrong.At this point in time 47 was giving Zecora of the thousand yard stare, her response was a smug grin. Lyra spoke up "I can't wait to rub you in the faces of everypony who ever doubted me." She said while rubbing her hooves together. A devilish grin smeared across her face.
47 cut in right after her sentence ended "That's not how this works. If it was up to me, we would not even be having this conversation. My existence in this world is simply an accident and I must be kept hidden from the world. In fact the only reason we're having this conversation is because Zecora felt it appropriate. You're free to ask me questions though I'm also free to not give you an answer if I find the question unacceptable." He was quick and precise with his words, giving no quarter to the unicorn. This seemed to deflate Lyra to an extent. Regardless she was quite excited at the whole experience. 47 was relieved to have gotten control of the situation, at least to an extent. “So I take it we have an agreement?” The unicorn gave a very enthusiastic nod.
Lyra had taken out a notepad at this point and had already written down a few questions, lest she forget. She had also made a crude sketch of his figure. Though his hand seemed a little bit more detailed than the rest of his body. “I noticed you don't have any fur, though I did not expect you to be completely hairless.” She motioned towards his head with a hoof. “Is that normal for all humans?”
“This is specific to just me, though most of my species loses their hair at an older age.”
Lyra noted that down as quickly as he had spoken it “I see... I noticed that you also have a mark on the back of your head, is that like our cutie marks? A visual image that shows who we are on the inside.”She said motioning to her own Lyre shaped cutie Mark.
47 seem to become uncomfortable at this question, she was of a lot more observant than he had predicted. He did not even remember turning the back of his head to her at any point in time. 47 made a mental note not to underestimate her again, she could prove dangerous after all. "Well yes and no. Ours are called tattoos and they are something that are is willingly done to our own body. As you can see we have no fur so it is easy to view our bearskin as a canvas. With a special tool and colored ink, we can make permanent art that stays with us for a lifetime. Something like your cutie marks." Lyra made 'Ooos' and 'Ahhs' as he explained, making sure the document every last word. "So you could say that our tattoos are a representation of who we are."
After some quick thinking she picked the next question that seemed the most suitable. “What does your tattoo mean?”
47 had assumed that she would've asked us next and responded quickly and coolly "that is a question I deem inappropriate, So I will withhold my information. In fact most personal questions I will not answer as I do not feel comfortable sharing such information with strangers." Lyra gave a frown and nodded, then quickly scratched off a few questions that could only be deemed as too personal.
“No no, that makes sense.I will refrain from future personal questions. After all it would be unfair to make you comfortable with you already forced out of your comfort zone.” 47 was pleasantly shocked at her ability to assess separate perspectives of individuals. Zecora was also pleased at how the interview was going. Lyra was different than others which is one of the only reason Zecora trusted her in the first place. But even she was shocked at how well the unicorn was handling the situation. At this point the zebra had already made the three tea. 47 had taken his seat at the small table while the unicorn stood adjacent from his position, notepad and pen floating in the air covered in Lyra's magic. Zecora took a seat next to 47 and began to drink. “So next question, how is it that your species reproduces?” The moment Lyra finish her sentence the zecora spat out what liquid remained in her mouth out of pure shock. "Was... Was that too soon?" 47 just sighed and shook his head.
“Ya sure ya did not know that was going to happen Sophronius?” Stoppage inquired, short of breath. The small cave and cause to seal off the massive and now infested room had been a success.
"Is it not the most Wunderbar thing you have seen!? A true Wundaveapon" The sorcerer was short of breath as well. Not from causing the cave-ins, but from sheer excitement. In his current state Sophronius forgotten the primary objective, that being the detainment and/or elimination of Zecora's familiar.
"Yez yez, but what about that Zebra and her pet? If not taken care of we may not have any timez to Celebrate." Alclipper, being the voice of reason, snapped the terrestrial sorcerer out of his frantically excited state.
Sophronius cleared his throat and regained his composure "yes well, if we can isolate one of these beings we will be able to use it against her familiar. That's killing two birds with one stone, I will be taking notes from the side to gather combat data on our new weapons." This concerned stoppage, he was not sure how they were going to do it or even if he could destroy one of them on his own. But the endgame did serve a mutual goal. At the very least they did open up those blasted doors, a small win in a series of losses. Sophronius’ plan to capture one of the creatures was sketchy at best. It involved making a small hole at the top of one of the collapsed tunnels so one of the monsters could come through. They would then attempt to incapacitate the creature so the Geo-manser would be able to capture it in a magically treated cage. At first glance it appeared to be a normal steel cage. In reality the steel had been treated with a magical enchantment causing the bars to absorb any kinetic force and apply it to the steel molecules in a way that caused them to strengthen. He took a great deal of pride in this "simple" enchantment. Stoppage had confidence in the cages ability, considering it was the same sort of enchantment that was applied to his armor. He just did not have confidence in Sophronius' combat abilities.
His main concern was the manual incapacitation of the creature at hand. Alclipper shared his concerns and voice them openly. “Iz this good idea...?” She asked cautiously. Alclipper and Stoppage carefully dug a pile of rubble that they had caused to seal off the entrance. Once a singular creature crawled through Sophronius would cause another cave in to seal the hole while his two allies rallied back towards his position, a larger intersection of tunnels. At that point Alclipper and Stoppage would have to fight the creature and force into the cage.Then Sophronius would take care of the rest. Before Alclipper and Stoppage had cleared enough for the ruble to see through to the other side, an armored fist shot through the top of the stone barricade.
"Retreat!" Stoppage yelled with haste as he jumped back before turning and running, Alclipper effortlessly made it back to the intersection before stoppage. The insect looking demon frantically clawed at the rock taking large chunks out with each swipe. The three watched in awe as the new being pulled itself through with little to no effort after tearing boulders apart as if they were made of paper. Once through the three could spot another creature directly behind the first. Sophronius quickly stomped his forehoof down, His tablet flashing brilliantly in unison, causing even more rubble to fall down on the newly emerging insect. That seemed to seal the exit once more. The first one had managed to scuttle its way to Alclipper and Stoppage in that short amount of time. Stoppage was ready, wielding his massive hammer he took a mighty swing towards the creatures advancing legs. It reacted a lot quicker than he would've liked. Before the hammer could make contact the creature had blocked it with one arm while swinging at his head with the other, claws fully brandished. Had his armor not been magically enchanted, Stoppage would have lost his head easily to that strike. He was also thankful that he had a tight grip on his hammer. Otherwise that would've been knocked away and he would be without a paddle so to speak. Alclipper on the other hand had taken advantage of the situation and had already moved behind the creature. With the mighty buck she put all of her force into a single kick aimed at the joint of the creature's back stabilizing leg. Despite the being seeming to be nearly unstoppable, her well-placed kick caused the creature's leg to buckle. Its weight shifted too abruptly for it to stabilize thus it fell to the ground hard. Stoppage use this to his advantage, Raining down a fury of blows which were ultimately designed to kill or fatally injured. The insect had anticipated this as well and raised its shield like Forearms up to block its face. Blow after blow stoppage’s attempts seem to do little other than Dent strong Chitin.
"Do it now!" He shouted through gritted teeth as he slammed his hammer down one strike after the other. With a few powerful, Arcane, movements the Geo-manser caused the spire of stone to erupt from the side of the cavern, pushing Stoppage completely out of the way. Abruptly disengaging the two and disintegrating upon impact. Alclipper gave the creature another mighty kick from behind as Sophronius did his second arcane maneuver causing multiples spears of stone strike in unison with the red striped zebra. There was enough force to push the creature directly into the open cage. Quickly, Sophronius closed the door behind the monster and marveled at the insect as it attempted to claw and gnash its way out of the enchanted steel. “The hell is that thing made of!?”
“Oh I intend to find out. I promise you that” Sophronius had already taken out a note pad and began documenting an absurd amount of information.
Though the sky was a crimson red and gloomy, sunlight was still present. For Alclipper this wasn't a good thing. She rested comfortably in one of the abandoned rooms that resided in the castle of the two sisters. This seemed to be where she spent any of her private time considering the lavish decorations and comfortable looking furniture that filled the room, most of it was a rose red. A few threads of light came in through her heavily coated window. A forehoof of hers casually lay in the a beam of light. Her flesh sizzled, cracked, and popped as flakes of bare muscle and tissue evaporated into thin air. Alclipper's sighed and attempted to embrace the pain is something new but to no avail. It had been so long since she had been cursed. Since then she had forgotten what simple pleasures felt like such as the warmth of the sun and the cold of snow. Though the few senses of hers that had remained were mainly hunger and pain. Though she could still feel happiness, despair, malice, and other emotions. But it was the physical feelings that she had missed the most. Stoppage had been watching her for some time, he was leaning on a great doorframe that led to her quarters. "How long have you been at it?" His tone was reserved and words hesitant. Something that was not natural for him.
Shocked, Alclipper quickly moved her hoof out of the light, it began to slowly regenerate that which had been damaged. "Iz nothing. How long?"
"Been here long enough." Response was shortened to "For me. Tain’t easy bein’ what ahm supposed to be, all this" he motioned to his full plated self “But for you, must be a lot harder. At one point or another, ya must of been normal. If ya don't mind me asking, how long has it been?”
She shifted in place, talking about this clearly wasn't easy for The stripped mare. "Two decadez. Few or more yearz added. Iz not so bad once only thing you remember."Stoppage moved into the room, closing the door behind him. This seemed to only make Alclipper even more uncomfortable considering she didn't have a high opinion of him to begin with. Even with them sharing rank.
"Surprised with all that time, ya'll didn't get speech therapy. Ain't no hoity toity fella neither. Guess you'd want to keep as much as you intact as possible, am I right?"
Alclipper gave a slow and uneasy nod “Not az dumb az look. Maybe I Misjudged.” Stoppage scoffed at the common, is only served to confuse Alclipper.
"Just don't get cozy with me, I am a monster after all" he said with a laugh
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. 1: A personal Contract
Security is not easy work, but it is rewarding in many ways. Monetary reward is definitely a large contributor to the job. Some pay more than others, but hey, no risk no reward. Not too long ago a contact had opened up. Its only major requirement is that you have no affiliation with “The Agency.” The Agency has been completing assassinations for centuries. Fate has little to do with the expiration date of an individual when The Agency is involved. Clearly the target was on their radar, thus the increase in guards. Information about the client was spotty but that was of little consequence; you needed the money. A chorus of docile tones emanates from the depths of your security jacket, bringing you back to reality. Having a cell phone on the job site is enough of an offense to get written up, but this could involve your wife. This is an emergency cell phone after all.
Taking the cell out you discover that you were slightly incorrect. It is actually the medical physician who specializes in cancer patients. The gravity of the situation falls on your conscience as if it were a lead weight. You take in your environment once again to address the current threat level. The small break room you and another reside in is of a two-toned gray accessorized with a fridge and table. There is also a rather large window overlooking the rocky shore below. The other man, a burly looking fellow, is leaning on edge of the plastic table.
“Hey jack, I gotta take this.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before taking one last drag of his cigarette. He gives you one last look mean before leaving the room. You will never understand why he has a stick up his ass.
“Hey doc, what’s up?” Your doctor gets straight down to business and tells you that the tests came back negative. “Wait…you’re sure? So it’s not cancer?” He confirms this. “Really!? I could kiss you! I mean, that’s great news! Oh man, you just made my day. Thanks doc… yeah.” After pleasantries of farewells are exchanged the phone is put back safely into the coat pocket and move to the window, letting out a sigh. A great burden has been lifted from your person; this feeling fills you to the core with a happiness you have not felt in a long time.
“When I get home I’m going to give my wife the night of her life” you say under your breath. Placing your hands on the railing of the window you are able to take in the beauty of the setting sun. Before you have a chance to think, the shadow of a hand grabs the front of your uniform and shoves you out the window. You let out a shrill cry as you fall down eight stories to the rocky shore below. The loud crashing of waves muffles your yell making your final moment in this world a worthless and petty attempt at summoning help. Your body hits the ground in a sickening, bone-shattering crunch.
Agent 47, a highly trained and genetically modified clone. The cloning project was designed to create humans that could remain at peak physical condition without the need for constant exercise as well as the ability to delude the effects of ageing. Possessing a 47th chromosome is the secret to the genetic superiority. Out of the fifty clones produced only one showed true promise, Number 47. Around the age of thirty, Number 47 escaped the facility and took his first life. He later returned and killed all the clones and staff including his creator, Otto Wolfgang.
For the last ten years Agent 47 have been in the employment of several organizations that have had him assassinate targets, but his most prominent employer was in fact, The Agency, until they betrayed him. The morality of 47's work has never been a question of ethics. Do the job and get paid, that is all. Though, after receiving some help from a priest of the Church, He has been giving a large portion of the profit to the Catholic Church. Mr. 47 wears an immaculate black suit, black leather gloves, white dress shirt and a red tie. Agent 47 usually has a set of .45 caliber handguns he affectionately refers to as the ‘Silverballers’ and garrote for stealthy, up close, encounters.
Waking from a sleepy state and dazed state, 47 regained his bearings. The bleak cavern system that seems to be his new surroundings offer an emotion he is unfamiliar with, confusion. It only takes a few moments to rise upright. After a quick examination oh himself agent 47 makes a shocking realization. Though he is physically intact; the silverballers are nowhere to be found. A slight breeze coming from the entrance of the cave alerts Mr. 47 of a possible escape route; looking for lost goods would bear no fruit in the dark in darkness. After stumbling thought a series of narrow passageways he finds the mouth of this cave; it looks like nothing more than a large jagged crack in the butte. Outside the cave was a forest teeming with wildlife, not unlike a jungle, and unfamiliar vegetation. A small amount of relief washes over 47 when he realizes there is a sufficient amount of fiber wire on his person; this area could be very dangerous and it is best to be prepared.
The trek through the dense brush leaves him reminded of the last time he was in an area like this, as part of a contract given to 47 by the agency. He treads with great care to avoid detection of whatever could be stalking these very woods. Abnormally colorful plants are one of the key things that 47 was taught to avoid in his training. After a fair amount of time wayfaring he hears some abnormal noises coming from a thicker part of the wood. Maybe it is of human origin. Humans would be a sign of civilization. Civilization means he can get in contact with his handler (the one who sets up the contracts and payment) and back to where he needs to be. Peering through the brush 47 sees what could only be described as an apex predator. The body of this beast appears similar to a lion with a set of smaller bat-like wings that adorn its shoulders and a tail bearing a strong resemblance to a scorpion, if his mind served him correctly. It was enjoying the meat of a recent kill. Agent 47 begins to contemplate the choices while hiding in the animal’s blind spot.
Fleeing from the encounter would be the easiest course of action. It is eating and may not be bothered by 47’s presence if, 47 would choose to simply avoid the situation. What if this animal acts like a normal predatory cat? It will not matter if it is hungry or not, 47 would be in its territory and therefore viewed as a threat, and possibly be attacked. It could be rather stealthy in this thick colorful jungle, as it clearly hunts and eats meat. The unknowns clearly outweigh any getaway scheme he can devise so direct action is necessary. Mr. 47 take out his garrote and scans for any kind of weak spot. Its tail is the most dangerous part; armored and potently poisonous. The armor seems to function almost like scale-mail so in theory it would have soft flesh that could be accessible if he slips the fiber wire under the plates.
As if acting on pure instinct 47 takes out his weapon and closes the distance on the animal with a great amount of stealth. In one smooth motion Agent 47 is able to wrap the fiber wire around the tail and slip it underneath the beast’s scales, near the base of the tail. Pulling up with all his modified might, causing the wire to work as a pair of scissors, he uses a pressure cutting technique to slice through the soft meat and joint material. In that one clean motion the tail falls limply to the ground, its severed muscles barely jerking. The beast lets out a roar of pain and launches into the air at a blinding speed. Apparently it was not used to being hunted and just fled the area, lucky for 47. After wiping the garrote off, 47 places it back in the front of his suit. He takes a moment to scan the area before situational awareness kick in, 47 is not alone. A strange combination of black and white can be seen through some nearby plant life.
“You have made several mistakes that have alerted me to your presence; one of which is that poorly done camouflage. I would recommend coming into the open, slowly.” Slowly the animal brought itself into view. A small zebra appeared with a rather large saddle bag; it wore gold jewelry like a tribal, and had strangely feminine features. But where was its handler? It seems submissive enough. “Perhaps I am in Africa?” If so he need to be on the lookout for remnants of rebel factions. There have been quite a few genocides in the past decade.
She speaks up in a low and thick accent. “I apologize, I mean you no harm. With my presence I did not seek to alarm.” Did it just speak? This was not covered in any training he had undergone. Is it sentient or was this some kind of trick? 47 cautiously issues response. Perhaps something with a little more structure.
“If you can understand me, I need to get to civilization. What direction might I be traveling and where is the closest town?” With such a complex question posed there will be no way such a trick could work. Then finding the handler of this animal should be the next prior-
“You are going north, you may wish to head south east. If you continue your path, you will end up a feast.” Well that settled it. Either head trauma had occurred at some point or this small zebra is actually conversing with Mr. 47 in an intellectual manner. After an uncomfortable and long silence; 47 was able to collect his thoughts into something more coherent.
“Would you be so kind as to show me the way to town?” She seems to assess the situation for a moment before replying,
“I might recommend a stay in a bed before taking such a journey; night will fall soon so we should hurry. I would be inclined to offer such a thing if you would let me take a sample.” She motions to the severed tail as well as 47. At a near whisper she continues “It would also be nice to spend some time with somepony..” This is too coherent to be head trauma. Maybe it is drug induced? Again it is too coherent.
“By all means, if you are going to be my guide and host.” A faint smile seems to appear on the zebra’s face. 47 maintains a professional demeanor as the zebra cautiously moves to the severed limb. As his new guide works on extracting bits of the tail 47 begin to inspect what is left of the beast’s kill, also keeping the zebra in view. It appears to have been some form of large livestock, Bovine in origin. This thing could have easily taken him down, given the chance. “It is a good thing I acted when I did.” He mutters to himself. After the female zebra extracted some kind of gland, most likely poisonous, from the tail she turns to face him.
“I am ready when you are, where we are going is quite far.” He motions to the guide, signaling her to lead the way. The zebra gives 47 a puzzled look and cautiously proceeds. Clearly it did not understand the gesture, maybe this thing has had a lot less human contact that originally thought.
Before too long she host strikes up conversation about basics “So, may I ask from where you hail from? In equestria your expression would be considered rather glum.”
“I am not familiar with equestrian. I come from Manhattan.” A bold face lie with the classic and professional smile.
“You mean Manehattan?”
Not sure if it was the same place or not he just agrees with the latter “So you are familiar with my hometown?”
“Well, not really. I have always wanted to though..” She said, her eyes slowly glazing over. This was starting to concern 47. This has happened a few times, does she get lost in thought this often?
Stopping in get tracks she looks up at 47. A wave of pressure washes over him, maybe he asked too much too fast. “Oh, I should have guessed. I am a zebra, I confess” She holds a hoof to her chest “Zecora” She says with a coy smile.
On only takes him a moment to think of an alias “Anonymous, or anon. Your choice” 47 hold out his hand. Zecora just looks at his hand, then back to him. This process is repeated a few more times before He finally understands. “Ah yes..it is a human thing” I need to learn the customs if I am going to blend in.
“A hue-min. Are there many of you in Manehattan? I must say I have never heard of something like that before. I thought I knew of all the species but there is more?”
Never heard of a human, this could pose a problem. “Yes, but only a few. We are pretty rare.”
Zecora bows deeply “I am honored Mr. Anon.”
“Thank you Mrs. Zecora. We should get going” He ushered
“Indeed anonymous. And it is just Zecora if you please” Her tone was a little more calluses that time. 47 takes a mental note of this.
As the sun begins to set Zecora and 47 reach a tree in the middle of a small clearing. It has been decorated with strange carvings of equine faces and glass flasks. This tree has also been hollowed out. Seems like this will be where I will be staying for the time being.
Author's Note
If you see something that needs and edit shoot me a PM with the title of my fic as the subject, don't leave it in the comment section.
5: Dark reaches and darker secrets
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.
“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.”
“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”
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.
“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.
