Equinox: A Tale of Harmony from behind the Elements

by Battle Damage

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Original Character, Adventure, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 24957

1,000 years. A mighty long time for Equestria to be without its most valuable source of protection: namely, the Elements of Harmony.Certainly Celestia could not have single-hoofedly protected a land with her magic alone. And she didn't.

1,000 years. A mighty long time for Equestria to be without its most valuable source of protection: namely, the Elements of Harmony. Leads one to wonder how Equestria could have survived for so long, with no real way to protect itself from darkness or hatred and the like. Cerainly Celestia could not have single-hoofedly protected a land with her magic alone. And she didn't.

Equinox. An underground organization of infiltrators, assassins and the like, dedicated to keeping Equestria from plunging into chaos. This story does not seek to explain the origins of Equinox. It simply seeks to relate a rather complex time in it's- and Equestria's- history.

A collab betweenAles Flamas, writing for Deadeye Sureshot, and

Maneiac(writing for Sugarcane)

and BattleDamage (writing for Mini-Kat)

Jaeger Donutt for Fake Out

A special thanks to everyone who let us use their OCs for this story. Not all of them will appear right away, but all of them (that were accepted) will make an appearace at some point, and some may even play crucial roles in the plot. So keep an eye out for yours!

Published 2013-11-18 23:30:05 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-11 19:51:12 UTC

Finding Balance: Through Dead Eyes

Three years ago

I can’t stop running. I’ll never be able to stop running. Dear Celestia, I’m such an idiot, why did I do it, why now? Oh yeah, because I’m an idiot.

I couldn’t stop scolding myself as I ran through the dark dirty streets of east-end Manehatten. I’d just managed to do something remarkably stupid, And except for my comments on my own stupidity, I had no idea why. Of course I’d done this stupid thing plenty of times before, but it hadn’t been so stupid then, because I’d been able to cover my tracks. But this time. . .

There wasn’t time to think about it too hard. Wherever I looked, it seemed like everypony else was looking straight back. My heart raced, my brain fell into a frenzy, and my thoughts all rammed into each other. I could barely understand myself, with thoughts like, OhsweetCelestiatheyknowandtheyhatemeandtheyllkillmeorIdon’tevenknow. Such was the state of my panic.

I wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, so I decided to fly away from troubles and out of Manehatten. I jumped to take off, but my right wing caught on something leathery, and my left wing refused to respond entirely, so I literally hit the road. I felt my sunglasses (prescription and what not) jostle on the bridge of my nose, and feathers from arrow shafts assault the back of my head.

“Dammit.”, I muttered to myself, “I’m still wearing the quiver. Why am I such an idiot?”

I pulled the quiver off myself and threw it as hard as I could down some alleyway. I heard something give a startled yell. Probably a bum. But that’s beside the point. I got a running start and gave another jump. My right wing opened without resistance this time, but my left was still in more pain than I’d ever felt before. So this time I rolled in mid-air before hitting the pavement face-first. My glasses cracked and shattered and as I lifted my head, the night sky became as bright as day for me. Every minute detail screamed for my attention and I couldn’t help but look at it all. So I just closed my eyes and ran blindly.

I learned very quickly that there’s a good reason nopony runs with their eyes closed. It’s not practical at all. I smashed into walls, knocked over practically every trash can in Manehatten and bumped into at least two dozen other ponies. I went on like that for about a half-hour, until I lost all sense of direction and opened my eyes just far enough to get a bearing for where I was going. I was both surprised and relieved at where I’d managed to carry myself. It was an old building, but beautiful. It was the only place I’d been to call home and mean it. The stained glass window of Princess Celestia was as glorious (and imposing) as ever. And the staircase leading to the arched doors of the building were as steep as they’d ever been. So I started walking up them, trying to figure out how I was going to explain the whole situation to the mare who’d been like my mother.

I hit the top of the stairs knocked on the foreboding doors of the Our Lady of Celestial Balance church turned orphanage. Just the action of knocking felt strenuous, and I was beginning to feel lightheaded. It occurred to me that I’d never bothered to check my left side, the side that had sent me sprawling on the concrete. So I took a glance at my wing, and saw nothing but stars, shining bright among a river of crimson. I mean you would’ve shit bricks there was so much glass in my side. I looked further behind me and saw the trail of blood I’d left in my wake, presumably starting from when I’d fallen through the the skylight at Beaux and Harrows and ending right at my hooves. Honestly, I was surprised I hadn’t bled out sooner.

All could do at that point was curse to myself. I mean, I’d literally left a trail of blood all around Manehatten that would directly connect me to the thing I was desperately trying to avoid. You try not getting pissed at something like that. I would’ve beat myself up about it more but somepony had finally opened the door. Just the somepony I’d been hoping for actually.

“Good evening, my child,” Mother Salve said to me in a voice heavy with the weight of sleep, “and may our Princess Celestia bless you with her glory. Now may I ask what brings you here so late?”

I had no idea where to begin, so I did what every normal pony would do in my situation: I spat out the first thing that came to mind.

“I killed her Mother Salve!”, I shout-whispered. “She’s dead and I killed her. I know it was wrong and I didn’t mean to do it, but I just couldn’t control myself. And I just don’t know what to do now. I mean I-”

I continued to ramble on like that for some five minutes or so, detailing every idiotic action I’d taken that night. The look on her face went from concerned to questioning to horrified as I went on, with many other expressions in between. I was vomiting out my tale with the speed and aggressiveness of a bout of explosive diarrhea, and Mother Salve could be likened to someone witnessing such a bout.

I stopped my yammering to take a breath and Mother put a hoof to my mouth to silence me. “Deadeye. . .”, she spoke to me with the motherly softness I knew so well, “I’d had such hopes for you. But now here you stand,at the crossroads of balance, like so many of the others.”

“I’m surprised you remember me, Mother.”, I replied. And I was. I hadn’t seen the mare in a good eight years. And I couldn’t recall having mentioned who I was in my rambling. What confused me more though was her mentioning of “crossroads” and “others.” I couldn’t fathom what she’d meant by it.

“I remember all my children, Deadeye,” Mother Salve said, “in the event that any of them should return to me. Now please, come in so I can dress those wounds for you. You aren’t looking ver-”

I couldn’t make out tha last of what mother said. My hearing became muffled and my vision dimmed, at least as far is it’s capable of doing so. The lightheadedness ascended into dizziness. The world spun and my hooves disappeared from beneath. Then, true darkness.
______________________________________________________________________________

I woke up. My torso and wing were completely wrapped-up and a sizeable bowl of blood situated on the dresser next to the bed I’d been put in. I’d been carried to my old bedroom, a familiar and friendly scape with holes of varying size in the ceiling and walls from when I was practicing archery as a colt. There were lit candles all around the room, one of which was on the same dresser as the bowl of bloody glass. I hadn’t noticed her immediately but Mother Salve was sitting at the head of the bed, writing something or other on a piece and, presumably, waiting for me to wake up. In the soft light of the candle, which was almost blinding to me, I noticed how old Mother had become in my absence. I had known a younger, more spry Salve. But this Mother was worn and tired, as if there was some heavy weight on her back. There was a streak of white in her once all brown mane, and I could see the beginnings of stress wrinkles forming on her face. This Mother was old beyond her years.

“Mother?”, I said weakly. She looked up at me from her parchment, almost surprised at my voice.

“Oh, good,” she said to me,”you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for about an hour now. I was afraid you’d passed on for a moment. Though compared with the choices you’re about to be presented, perhaps death would’ve been preferable. But that’s not my decision to make.”

“Mother. . .what are. . .are you t-talking about?”, I asked with the strain showing in my voice. She ignored my question and just went on talking.

“Somepony will be here shortly to talk with you about everything you’ve done. And I mean everything, Deadeye.”

Oh dear sweet Celestia, she knew about the others. But how was that even possible? And was that disappointment I’d heard in her voice? I didn’t have time to figure it out as somepony had begun to knock at the bedroom door. Mother went to answer it. Standing in the hallway was a relatively short, stocky pegasus stallion. His mane and tail were a bright scarlet and his hair was light gray; his eyes were a piercing yellow and his wings were unusually small, but thick, seeming to shine in the candlelight. He was wearing an old, worn black fedora and had a rectangular pack strapped to his right foreleg, probably for holding cards of some sort. He didn’t look any older than I was, which was about eighteen.

“Thank you, Mother. You can go back to sleep now.” the stallion said. His voice was smooth and friendly. He sounded as though he wouldn’t have been out of place as some royal dignitary or muckraking politician. Of course just about every pony in Manehatten met that qualification.

“Your welcome, Joker,” Mother replied. “And please, do go easy on him.” As she walked away, I heard her mutter something about wasted talent. Joker, as his name apparently was, sauntered slowly over to my bed. As he walked to the head of it, I caught a glimpse of his cutie mark: an ace of spades, overlaid by a joker of hearts, bearing the visage of the mythical Princess Luna. From before she had supposedly become Nightmare Moon, that is.

He sat down at the head of the bed and stared at me. I stared right back. We both just sat there in loaded silence, each waiting for the other to speak. It ended up being Joker who was the first to do so.

“I know the game you’re playing, kid.” Joker began. “Believe me, I can play it all night. But I’m here for a reason, and a damn good one too.”

“Are you some kind of cop?” I replied. “P.I., Royal Guard, any of those?”

“Well, yes. But not exactly. Before I can answer any more of our questions, you're gonna have to answer some of mine. Sound good to you?”

“. . . . . . . . . . .”

I’ll take your silence as a go-ahead then. First off, your name is Deadeye Sureshot, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Your current residence is the apartment above nine two two, Forseti avenue, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what is below this apartment?”

“An archery range,” I said through clenched teeth.

“And this archery range is owned by?”

“Listen, guy,” I shouted at him. “Could you stop beating around the bush and get to whatever stupid point it is you’re trying to make!?”

He smiled at me, as if I’d told some half-funny joke. “A stallion who gets straight to it. I like that. Frankly, I don’t much care for theatrics either, but regulations, you know?”

“No, I don’t. And regulations of what exactly?”

“My job, kid, my job. You know, the rules my boss sets, things I have to follow so I don’t get fired?”

“What job would that be exactly?”

“I’m obligated not to tell you until I’ve given you the whole sales pitch on why you need to join us.”

“Join who? You’re making no sense!”

“Then allow me to start making sense. For starters, my name’s Joker Vocalism. I’m a professional gambler, part time bartender and singer, fulltime assassin, and generally, a pleasant pony to be around.”

“Assassin?”, I questioned disbelievingly. He definitely wasn’t lying. And with sight like mine you tend to pick up on things like that.

“I’ll get to it,” he said. “Anyhow, I work for this organization called Equinox, a network of infiltrators, information gatherers, triple agents and the like. There’s quite a bit more to our story, but to summarize, we’re what’s been keeping Equestria from floating down the shitter the past millenium.”

“And how’s that exactly?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the tale of the Elements of Harmony, right?”

“I don’t see what some little pony’s tale has to do with what you’re telling me.”

“It has everything to do with it, Deadeye. After Princess Luna, or rather, Nightmare Moon was banished to the moon, the connection between the Elements of Harmony and their bearers was severed, leaving Equestria without one of it’s main sources of protection. Equinox was founded by somepony who didn’t want to see Equestria fall because of that.”

“Of course it was,” I said. “But if you guys have been protecting Equestria for so long, what happened to the Crystal Empire?” I didn’t expect him to answer, seeing as how the Crystal Empire was just another bedtime story.

“Before our time,” he answered matter-of-factly. Of course it was.

“So,” I went on. “What exactly does Equinox want with me?”

“You’re a remarkably gifted markspony, Deadeye, and your track covering skills are almost perfect. Unfortunately for you, we at Equinox know what to look for when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“What exactly did you and your assassin friends find while looking?” , I said sarcastically. I was trying my hardest not to sound as scared as I really was.

“We found everything, Deadeye. And I do mean everything.”

“That seems to be a popular phrase around here.” Joker chuckled.

“That it is. Nonetheless, one hundred and twenty ponies, all killed in the past five years. Killed by you, Deadeye. Impressive, really it is.”

I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach. If he’d been serious about knowing everything, maybe he’d been serious about this whole Equinox thing. . . but then again, he could just be making a shot in the dark.

“Of course,” he went on. “that’s not to say you didn’t do any good with the ponies you killed. Let’s take, for example, one “Brooklyn.” Lanky earth pony, greasy black mane, often smelled of dead fish. Does that ring any bells?”

Too bad for me, it did. Black Mold, better known on the streets as “Brooklyn”, had been a professional con. Made a living selling national landmarks to the old and senile. But when you’ve sold the Statue of Harmony to every senior citizen in Manehatten, word gets around. Unfortunately for him, word got to me. The look on his face as my arrow pierced his throat is forever burned into my memory.

“You did Equestria a service that day. A small one, but still a service. If I recall correctly, that was your first kill, was it not?”

“I. . . I don’t remember.” It had been. This guy knew everything after all.

“Well regardless, after you killed “Brooklyn”, you didn’t let up. The statistic for murder skyrocketed, but all other crime rates dropped. You took care of practically every lowlife, scumbag, and vagrant in the city. But for whatever reason it occurs, murder is murder. And we can’t have a murderer mucking about, hoofloose and fancy-free.”

“So what did you decide to do about it?”, I said, my nervousness and my curiosity fighting for supremacy.

“Considering you hadn’t killed anypony we wouldn’t have gotten to ourselves eventually, we figured we’d make you one of us. Things got a little tricky after you ganked poor, old Mr. Harrow though. After all, he was an innocent stallion.”

I wasn’t able to tolerate that statement. Harrow Shaft had been many things. For some time I’d seen him as a father. But I learned very quickly that he would never be able to see me as his son. And I have to admit, when I watched him die, choking on and flailing in his own vomit, I was more than satisfied. It made me happy like only the act of watching something you hate shrivel can.

“It’s not like he didn’t have it coming.”, I thought out loud. I could feel my veins begin throbbing where I’d injured myself. My anger was starting to get the better of me.

“What was that, Sureshot?”, Joker questioned. Sweet Celestia, do I hate when ponies call me by my surname.

‘I said,” I spoke, my voice cracking with suppressed emotion. “that it’s not like he didn’t have it coming. He was a drunkard, a wife and child beater, so obsessed with the loss of his own son, he couldn’t bother to pay attention to the colt so ready to devote himself to him. . . he definitely had it coming.”

“Wow.” Joker said in mock astonishment. “It’s like the half-baked plot to some dimestore crime novel. I mean seriously kid, if I had a bit for every time I’ve heard this story, I’d take it all to Las Pegasus, rake it in, and retire early. But still, I have to admit, alcohol poisoning was a good way to go. Plausible cause of death, well hidden puncture wounds from the syringe you used to inject into his body. Overall well thought out and well-executed. Which brings me back t the whole ‘making you one of us thing.’

“Originally,” Joker went on, “our plan was to frame you for a crime that followed your kill pattern and leave you with only the choices of dying or joining us. But you seem to have managed to place yourself between a rock and a hard place quite snugly already. And now you stand at a cross-roads. One road leads to a life of fear, paranoia, and, ultimately, death at the hands of one of your prospective co-workers. The other. . . well I think you can infer where the other one leads.”

“I’m not entirely convinced. I mean, what makes you so sure I’m cut out for this line of work?”

“You have all the makings of a silencer: somepony who can get the job done without any pony knowing there was a job in the first place. If you really need convincing though, take a look at your flank. Mother informed me that this whole ordeal has left you with a little gift that might just help you come around.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by gift. A scar maybe? It certainly couldn’t be a cutie mark, because most ponies at my age who hadn’t discovered their talent, usually never discovered it. But I figured I may as well humor him. So I shifted in the bed and craned my neck to look at my-

“Princess be praised, I have a cutie mark.”

It was a hawk, flying through a pair of crosshairs, similar to something from one of my bow sights. But what did it mean? When had it appeared?

“I can tell you’re confused, Sureshot. So let me explain.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been doing a real bang up job there.”

“Don’t get smart, sureshot. Now, you told Mother Salve that when you killed Beaux Quiver, you hadn’t been able to control yourself. That is what you said isn’t it?”

“It is, but-”

“How long had it been since your previous kill?”

“Three months, but-”

“And before that what was the longest you’d managed to go without a kill?”

“Five weeks! But what does that have to do with-”

“It has everything to do with your cutie mark, Deadeye. When you failed to control your murderous impulses, you subconsciously acknowledged that it was your purpose in life. Your cutie mark is a testament to your skills as a sniper, a pony who specializes in death from afar, so to speak. Are you still unconvinced? Will you still refuse to become one of us?”

He almost seemed to pleading with me at this point. But I was still unmoved in my opinion.

“No, I’m not convinced,” I replied stoically. “ and yes, I will refuse. Anything you and your little group could do, I’m sure I can do myself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe we’re done here.”

I got off the bed and started to walk away, but Joker put a hoof to my chest. I was still too weak from blood-loss to fight back, so I just stared him down. His expression had hardened and all his prior lightheartedness seemed to have disappeared.

“Perhaps I mislead you,” he began in a tone filled with what I can only describe as ‘dark’. “with my crossroads analogy earlier. That first road that you're starting to walk down won’t lead to fear or paranoia. If you refuse to join Equinox, I’ve been given orders to kill you right here, right now.”

My fear came rushing back in waves. I almost crapped myself, that statement scared me so much. But I tried to act tough.

“I doubt you have the conviction to kill me in a church.”, I said.

“Try me.”, he replied.

“We-well. . .uhhh. . .I don’t see a weapon on you. How exactly do you plan on killing me without a weapon?”

He chuckled again. “In your state, it wouldn’t take much to kill you. But why don’t you let your eyes decide whether or not I have a weapon.”

Joker spread his wings and It became apparent why they had seemed so thick. They hadn’t been small, just curled up. Each wing was at least four feet in length and framed in what appeared to be some sort of steel plating.

“Those are wing blades, Deadeye. Sharp enough to mow through any part of your body with little to no resistance. Now, you’re talented Deadeye, I think we’ve established that. I don’t like to waste talent. So I’m going to give one last chance. Will you become one of us? Or am I going to end you?”

I mulled it over in my mind, and I couldn’t find any reason not to accept. Of course nearly anything seems preferable when the only other option is immediate death. But joining this organization, this so-called Equinox, seemed like it was nothing but beneficial to me.

“Well,” I began. “it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. But I’m in. Equinox has earned a new member.”

Joker smiled and furled his wings until they once again resembled shiny folded carpets.

“I’m glad you came around.”, he said, taking his hoof from my chest and placing it around my shoulders. “Now, come on. There are some ponies in the cellar I’d like you to meet.”

“That sounds awful shady.”

“Yes,” Joker replied. “Yes it does.”

Finding Balance II: Splintered Cell

By: SleeplessScribe

About three years ago

It wasn’t often that soldiers received a personal summons from Captain Shining Armor. The very thought of it made my knees shake, while at the same time almost forcing me to hold my head a little higher. I chose to fly from Canterlot to Haven as opposed to taking a train; it was not only faster, but also much more pleasing.

The clear, gorgeous, blue skies above Haven were a stark contrast to the grey clouds that surrounded them. You could feel the change in temperature as well once you neared the city itself. Bone-chilling winds were soon replaced by the warmth of a shining sun, and the reflections of all the shimmering buildings made them, and the ponies walking the streets, sparkle like jewels.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t here for sightseeing. I had a summons to answer, and keeping the Captain waiting was not a good idea. The sight of armor-clad guards was always strange to me, the leather and mesh I had been commissioned drastically different from the heavy plates, but it was even stranger to see that armor on the heavy, almost dog-like ponies of this land. At least two guards were positioned at every corner of Haven Fortress, the largest military base in the arctic north. As I approached them, those massive doors slowly opened, as if they had minds of their own and were expecting me.

I wasn’t even three steps into the massive fortress before I was greeted by the unicorn that had called me here. It was most likely just a result of my prior experiences with commanding officers, but his friendly greetings always caught me off guard. He probably spent at least a whole minute with his hoof out before I finally took it and shook.

“Hello, Captain.”

He gave me a quick nod accompanied by a small, soft smile. “Hello to you, Ruse. I hate to bring you here on such short notice, but a matter of the upmost importance has come up.”

Even as his mood shifted to one much more serious, I still found it near impossible to take him seriously. Shining Armor was a pony I respected more than any other, mainly for the fact that he could hold authority and still manage to be likable and upbeat.

The unicorn nudged my shoulder, jerking his head to the side. He began to speak again as I was lead down a long corridor. Sadly, it had no windows, so I couldn’t look at anything outside. “A very powerful artifact has been stolen from the castle. I’d rather let your old friend fill you in on the situation, but I don’t mind telling you that if we don’t get this back, it could spell disaster for all of Equestria.”

Now it was my turn to nod. “I understand.”

We finally stopped before a large door. Shining Armor opened it for me, but grabbed a hold of my hoof before I descended the stairs that the doorway led into. “If you succeed here, I believe you’ll be due for a promotion. Should you complete this mission with the skill you’re known for, you’ll be moving beyond the Royal Guard.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he closed the door on me before I could say anything. So much for being nice. I also began to wonder how safe this actually was; the lighting in this staircase was subpar at best, and one little slipup could very well have resulted in me snapping my neck.

Once again I was made to feel awkward by the number of armored ponies I was met with upon entering the doorway at the end of the staircase. It was as if I had entered into an old war movie, with a single, solitary ceiling light dimly illuminating a table that sported many little figures and makeshift buildings. On the other side was a stallion I hadn’t expected, but was very glad to see.

Commander Shrapnel.

He had been put in charge of the Royal Guard’s Solaire Legion, one of the three elite legions in the Guard. The last two years of my life had been spent serving under him as a scout, clawing my way through the ranks. Shrapnel and I got along well, though it came as no surprise when, even after a thorough scrutinizing, I could find no signs of emotion on that dark red face.

Looking into his eyes made me feel like that cold gaze was boring a hole in me. My superior lifted himself up, resting his hooves against the table. “Legate. I don’t intend to waste any time, so keep quiet and listen.”

All I did was nod. The stallion wrapped a scroll in the bright green grasp of his magic, unrolling it to show me a picture. It looked to me like a glass tube with two black lids and a gold glow inside, though I was sure I’d be told what exactly this was.

Of course, my instinct is rarely wrong. “This is an artifact known as the Cortex Void. What it does is on a need to know basis, so all I’m going to tell you is that it’s gone, and we need it back.”

He then motioned to the makeshift map below, circling his hoof around as wide an area of it as he could. “A radical group calling themselves ‘The Talons’ has taken over Saddle Arabia. They’re not too happy with the recent peace agreements between our two nations, and Celestia herself believes this is their doing. Luckily, the Princess placed a spell on the Void that allows her to track its location regardless of where it is. The only problem is that—”

“Is that she can’t just fly in and take it as that’s sure to damage relations.” I only realized what I had done after the fact, and I straightened myself up and gulped down the lump in my throat as I did. “Uh, sir.”

The unicorn cleared his throat and cycled between three large buildings with his hoof. “We know that the Void is kept here, here, and here, and changes locations every fifteen minutes. Based on what we’ve managed to find out through brief overflights, we’ve determined that the densest concentration of forces is, of course, along the most direct route. There are three ways in: you could try your luck going right through the front gate, there’s a sewer system beneath the city that leads right into the heart, or you can sneak around the border and go through the lightly guarded checkpoint in the back. It’s mostly markets, so you can play yourself off as a tourist.”

It only took a moment before I knew what I wanted to do. “I’m going through the market. Sewers are disgusting, and I highly doubt I’ll live very long if I just knock on the front door and ask nicely.”

Shrapnel returned his hooves to the floor, giving another nod. “Alright. Now then, onto the details. You’ll be going it alone, as usual. Being detected is not an option, so if you have to engage, do it quietly, and without killing. I know your devotion to Mother makes that a moot point, but I believe this is the first mission you’ve been sent on where lethality is not authorized. You’ll be taken as close to the city as we can get to by chariot, and they will remain there for you to return to for extraction.”

I was about to salute before he opened his mouth again. He then tossed a photograph of a sandy maned stallion with an ugly-as-hell Fu Manchu mustache on the table. “Oh, and one more thing. A pony who refers to himself as ‘The Voice’ has been reported in this same area. We believe he is at least a very influential, high-ranking official in The Talons if not the leader. However, you are not permitted to engage should you spot him. You’re not being sent in with the equipment for a capture, so keep your objective to the Void.”

Both of us rose from our seats now, and the stallion raised his head. “That’s the end of the briefing. It’s not much, but it’s all we have. Any objections, lady?”

Ugh, he did it again. Shrapnel would always end his briefings by asking me that, though I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me for being the only female in my Legion or if he was using it as a term of endearment. Either way, I didn’t like it.

“Only to you saying that. Sir.”

He just rolled his eyes, making his way towards the door. “Get used to it. I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Due to my choice, I was given a saddlebag that I was told contained my usual stealth apparel. Obviously, trying to go through a checkpoint in mesh and leather wouldn’t go over well, but carrying it in something so mundane would help me pass as a tourist. Both Princess Cadence and Shining Armor met me at the front of the fortress later that evening, but neither of them said a word. It’s not like they needed to, though; their simple nods were enough.

My chariot, thankfully, was not what I typically thought of when I imagined the vehicle. Instead of being bright, flashy, and gold, it looked more like something Luna would ride in: dark, inconspicuous, and driven by her bat ponies instead of the usual white pegasi. They wasted no time taking off once I was in, either. These guards were faster than I could ever be, and they probably liked flying a lot more than I did.

I kind of wished I had more time to admire the scenery; we were at a high enough altitude for me to see quite a bit of Equestria, though it wasn’t long before the gorgeous, bountiful greens turned into a wasteland of nothing but winds and sand. Luckily for me, the city in question wasn’t all that far from the border between Saddle Arabia and Equestria.

From where I was, it looked rather small, the walls around the city forming an octagonal bastion of “safety”. My landing was well away from the walls, so I had to walk a ways to the back entrance. It was guarded by a single, unarmed and unarmored pony that let me through upon seeing my bag. The area was a great contrast to what I had imagined it, as well.

I had always thought of Saddle Arabia as an incredibly wealthy nation that prided itself on exceptional architecture. Instead, the streets of this section were divided by merchant stalls with the occasional small, indoor shop peppered between them. The checkpoint wasn’t too far away, and there were three guards posted, so instead of heading straight for it I took a look at what some of the stalls had, first.

One of them happened to be selling produce, and I was a little hungry. I bought a carrot and munched on it as I approached the checkpoint, stuffing what was left into my bag as they watched me. I guess they didn’t check my bag because they saw me stuff the carrot leaf in it, why they didn’t mattered no to me.

Once I was in, I made for the darkest, most remote corner I could and changed. Another lucky thing was that this saddlebag was dark and came with a second strap that allowed me to hold it on my back. If Shrapnel’s map was correct, I could follow along the edge of the wall and I’d be taken to the first possible building relatively quickly.

The only problem with that was the fact that there were now stone barricades and watchtowers set up at various locations. Not only that, but from my current hiding place, I spotted the reason why most of the guards were in the center.

Both sides of the city were being guarded by griffins. Right now, I was behind a short wall on the side of what I assumed to be an abandoned house’s back door. None of the guards could see me right now, which made me thankful that my outfit hid my cutie mark. Were it not for the bright green trio of pentagons on my flank, I wouldn’t have minded, but trying to stay hidden with the equivalent of LED’s on your ass was a challenge in itself, and not the kind of challenge I liked.

I couldn’t help but smile a bit, though. I’d never dealt with griffins, so getting around them was a challenge I was looking forward too. There were two guards and no towers in my line of sight, and it only took a few minutes for me to figure out their patrol patterns. One would move up the alley formed by the building I was against and the one beside it just as the other began to move down it. That meant I had to time myself so that I moved from cover to cover while they were switching.

It was times like these that I somewhat hated being a pegasus. Resisting the urge to spread my wings and just fly over all of this was terrible, but I knew it’d get me caught in an instant. Thankfully I was able to ignore my urges up until I got up behind a barricade right next to the alley. That was when I heard the sniffing.

I knew dogs had sensitive noses, but nopony ever told me lions and eagles did too. As I heard steps coming deviating from the regular path, I scanned every nook and cranny around me for something to use. Looking up, I saw a nice little distraction in the form of what looked like oil barrels. Using the carrot leaf I had, I made a pseudo-trebuchet by tossing a small stone with the leaf at the barrels. Mother was smiling on me today; the guard that caught my scent wasn’t looking my way when I tossed it, and the noise caught the attention of both.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from me, I darted across the alley. The great thing about being a pegasus was that I could use my wings to glide and pretty much silence my own steps. The next stretch was going to be much harder: three guards all circling around the perimeter formed by a fountain and the buildings around it, as well as two towers with search lights.

The good thing about this was that one of the griffins was close enough for me to get his attention without his buddies catching on. I let out a small whistle, grinning as the cat… bird… thing… turned his head. His talons clicked with every step he took against the stone roads. I grabbed hold of his neck as soon as her was close enough, pulling him around the corner and slamming my hoof against his head.

I checked just to be sure that he still had a pulse then dragged him into the corner once I confirmed that he did. When I returned to my original position, I noticed that his buddies were coming my way. This time, confrontation was unavoidable, but I already had a plan for taking them out.

It was a blow to my pride, but I had to drag the first guy out of his little hidey-hole first. As the two griffins saw him and crouched over to check on their comrade, I came down on both of them from the roof I had flown up to. Three griffins were a lot harder to drag than one, but eventually they were all huddled up in the corner together.

Now the problem was the search lights. There were barricades I could hide behind that would hide me from one, but switching between them so the other one wouldn’t spot me would be tricky. However, a few close calls, clever slides, and one… admittedly accidental summersault brought me right to the entrance of the first building my commander spoke of.

Rather than going through the door, I slipped in through the window, staying close to the ground as I made my way towards the staircase. The interior of this building was rather… plain, with nothing but a few desks against the walls furnishing this lower floor. I kept my wings out, using them to hold me up as I lifted myself onto the tips of my hooves.

There were three doors on the second floor. All of them were already opened, but just barely, leading me to believe they were probably trapped. If the Void was in this building, there was no doubt in my mind that the door it was behind wouldn’t be trapped, that or that traps were disabled to allow whoever moved it to take it away and bring it back. I really was blessed right now, as well. Each door was fairly close to the staircase, allowing me to tap on it and bolt down the stairs and listen for a response.

Just as I thought, the third door I tried housed at least one guard. Once he was back to wherever he was when I knocked, I creeped in and looked around. Whoever responded was the only pony in the room, and I immediately recognized that hideous facial hair. The Voice had his back to me, and right behind him was the Void. Getting in, snagging it, and sneaking out was relatively easy, but something caught my eye as I was about to leave.

A sheet of paper fell out of the bag he had on his side. Regardless of what was on it, it had to be important. Even if it was his shopping list, it’d give us a clue as to where we could expect to find him. Standing there debating whether or not to disobey orders was a terrible idea, and I knew that this guy could turn around and spot me at any second. At the very least, I moved out of the doorway and against the wall to give myself a little time.

I did peek into the door to make sure he hadn’t noticed the paper. Right now, I would have loved to be a unicorn instead of a pegasus; using my hooves to grab that paper would’ve made too much noise, grabbing it with my mouth would have ruined the paper, but I would’ve already had it if I had magic at my disposal.

A scowl spread across my face as I weighed the options. Suddenly and idea came to me, but I said a quick prayer to Mother before even attempting it. I still had the carrot leaf, and there was enough carrot left on it to make a decent thud when I tossed it hit the wall opposite of where I was. He played right into my hooves, walking over to check it out as I snagged the paper and half walked half glided my way out.

When I got out, it looked like the searchlights had picked up the pace, making a rhythmic escape impossible. Again, I was forced to weigh options: risk getting caught while trying to stay quiet, or use what speed I had to fly over the wall and to my chariot. The fact that I really didn’t like flying that much didn’t help my decision, but after trying to plan a route through the lights, there was no longer a choice.

There was an alley I could go down to bring myself just a little closer to the wall, but once I was as far as the dead end allowed me to go, I spread my wings and took off over the wall in front of me. What I saw nearly knocked the wind out of me.

Sand. Sand everywhere.

Turning around, I saw that the route I had taken getting in had brought me even with the entrance to the market, meaning the “dead end” was the border of the city! I was already out, and my chariot was in sight! Had my training not told me to scream out “Yes!” after every success, I probably would have. Believe me, I wanted to, and the fact that I didn’t was probably more because it was a habit for me not to scream for anything.

Of course, nothing was ever this easy. A sharp pain shot through my upper left right leg moments before I felt another in my wing. I only got a quick look at the sharp, blood covered tip shining in the moonlight with nearly half the shaft protruding out of my wing. The mere sight made me unwilling to look at my leg as I did my best to hobble towards the chariot. As I limped, I started praying again, hoping that Mother would draw the bat ponies’ attention to me.

Another arrow dug itself into the ground right next to my neck, but there was no way the next shot would miss; hitting a mare that was bleeding and out cold on the ground was a pretty easy feat.

I awoke in a bright, white room with a nurse wrapping up my leg. Both arrows were gone, my body was numb, and my injured wing was already bandaged. My vision was still foggy, but the pink blur before me and the warmth I felt from her hoof against my forehead told me it could be nopony but my godmother.

As my vision cleared, I saw Cadence’s soft smile as she leaned down a little. “I’m proud of you, Ruse. The guards told me everything that they saw, and I can only imagine how hard that was to do.”

“You’re not the only one that’s proud.” Hearing the stallion actually praise me was almost as hard to process as hearing someone speak another language. Shrapnel held that sheet of paper I had taken in front of me, though I was still unable to make out what was on it.

“I’d like to speak with you about this once you get clearance to leave. You’d better start healing, lady.”

Just as quickly as he came in, he left, and the nurse tapped Cadence on the shoulder. At least fifteen minutes passed before my adopted parent entered the room again, her upturned brows and slightly curved mouth sending a chill up my spine. She wrapped her forelegs around me, and I could hear her sniffle.

“The impact from the arrow shatter a bone and snapped the joint between your wing and your shoulder. Ruse… there’s no way of knowing yet, but… there’s a chance you may never fly again.”

My eyes widened as I looked at the alicorn, the reality take a moment before it actually struck me. Even with her good news about the lack of damage to any bones in my leg allowing me to walk right now, I found myself unable to see past anything but that horrifying statement.

She held me for what felt like hours before I finally shook myself away. “I need to… I need to go somewhere.”

Cadence said nothing. All she did was stop me and fix my mane up into a ponytail with my favorite hair band. The pink band with the little claw pin did little to distract me, though it helped to know a foalhood gift from Cadence hadn’t been lost.

Shrapnel knew me well enough to know where I was going. Though I had no idea he was following me until he said something. “Good news, lady: We’re already in Manehattan. It’s also quite a feat for you to be walking already.”

I was shivering now. I knew it was because of what I had been told, but I recall it being kind of chilly in that clinic as well. “I can barely feel anything.”

“That’s what I mean. You’re probably still numb from the anesthetics. The fact that you’re not at least stumbling deserves a medal itself.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up his pace to match mine, forcing me to speed myself up again until we were caught in an endless cycle. “Stop it, Ruse. Drop the attitude for long enough to at least hear me out.”

I mirrored the gesture, giving a small scoff. “Fine.”

“It’s good that we’re already headed to the church. Ruse, your success has earned you a promotion beyond the Guard. Everything you went through was done on purpose. This was a test, not of your skills and talents, but of your willingness to weigh risks and benefits, as well as to defy orders for a better cause.”

My eyes widened again, and I felt them starting to water. “So you’re telling me that everything that happened was staged?” Spinning around, I jammed my hoof into his chest with a scowl that could frighten a manticore. “You mean to tell me that I may never fly again because of a test? Why the fuck would you do that to me, Shrapnel? I may not be a great flyer, or even enjoy flying, but damn it, I don’t want to lose my wings forever!”

“Ruse!” The echoes of his displeasure spread through the street louder than any explosion. “That wasn’t staged. We have no idea who shot you or why. In fact, the stallion who posed as The Voice, who happens to be the ruler of Saddle Arabia, is conducting an investigation now. You’d better be thankful that the organization you’re being brought into has refused to let me keep you here, or else I’d have you court marshalled right now for your tone and language!”

My ears fell flat as he shouted, causing me to shrink back and lower my head. “I apologize, sir. You just have no idea what this is doing to my head.”

He nodded slowly, lifting my head up to meet his now softened gaze. “I know, Ruse, I know. Just try to stay calm while I tell you the details, alright?”

Lifting myself up, I gave a quick nod as we trotted down the road again. “They called themselves ‘Equinox’. It’s a team of highly trained specialists with skills far superior than most in their lines of work. Princess Celestia uses them as her back door for any kind of jobs she needs done that require absolute and extreme discretion. You’ll be pleased to know that Mother’s church is their safe haven, so when we get there, you’ll no longer be under my command.”

“So, with that being said,” for once those words brought me comfort. It was as if he was saying he’d never say goodbye when he uttered his closing phrase, “any objections, lady?”

There was only one thing I could think of as we approached the church. I turned to face my old friend and officer one last time before giving him a salute. The sting of Cadence’s words was still fresh in both my mind and my wing, but they were momentarily drowned by my own response.

“None. Don’t tell me you’re just going to let me go, though? Before I step foot in here… I need to ask you something?”

“Oh?”

I saluted again, trying not to both cry and grin as I spoke. “Any objections, sir?”

Finding Balance IV: No Gentle Breeze

An indeterminate amount of time ago

I heard a knocking coming from the door and walked over to it grudgingly, whoever was at the door better have a great reason to be disturbing me on a Saturday morning. I pushed the door opened and revealed a pearl white unicorn mare in a mail carrier’s uniform.

“Sorry to disturb you sir, it’s just that you need to sign for this package”, the mail said as she levitated a paper package to me.

I nodded and scrawled my signature onto the clipboard before taking the package and closing the door. I walked over to the table in the living room of my apartment and put the package down. Cautiously I removed the exterior brown paper, revealing a white cardboard box with the name Knight Fire written across the front. I always found it funny when clients used my alias and not my actual name, Stormwind.

I proceed to open the box, figuring that there was probably nothing inside which could do him immediate harm. Inside the box were two objects, a pink envelope with smelled like flowers and a glass ornament like the kind I would hang on wreaths for Hearthwarming Eve as a colt.

“Dear Knight, it has been all too long since we've seen each other. I’ve thought about you every day since the last time we saw each other. I just blew into town for a gig and was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the theater on the 20th and catch up. Love, Treble Clef”, the letter in the envelope read.

It was obviously a job offering, I had no doubts about that. Whoever had written it hadn't been stupid, or at least not a total dunce; they had been smart enough to disguise the letter as something from an old romantic interest and not a job offering to a thief for hire. The letter also had a strange aroma to it, like it had been sprayed with perfume, but I knew the actual purpose. I held the letter in my mouth and walked over the fireplace where there was a steady blaze. Then I held the letter to the fire and let the light pass through. It took a few seconds but soon a new set of letters faded into view.

“Check the ornament for a little down payment for the hit”, the new letters read.

I then tossed the letter into the fire and incinerated the primary evidence after committing the time and place to memory. I then walked over to the table and inspected the ornate glass orb which had also been in the package. The decoration was deep blue and had snowflakes etched into the sides, but it felt much heavier than it should. I wasted no time in smashing the glass ball with a hoof and reveal what was this “Down Payment” was. Sure enough, the outer layer shattered and revealed a golden orb which had been hidden inside.

Upon further inspection the golden orb appeared to be solid and about the size of an apple.

“Damn, this is worth at least five hundred bits; whoever is trying to hire me isn’t screwing around”, I said as I cleaned up the glass shards and inspected the large piece of precious metal.

None of this was new to me, my entire livelihood revolved around stealing from and spying on the elites and government officials of the city. My “less than legal” services were sought after by sketchy business-ponies, drug lords, politicians, and many others when they wanted information or spy work done on somepony they didn't particularly like. The morality of the work never bothered me; as long as the client paid I couldn't care less what their motivations were.

Despite my need for clientele for my “information acquisition services” I made absolutely sure none of them would try and double cross me. Once a drug lord had tried to kill me in order to tie up loose ends; I made an example of him by putting him in a coma and breaking his horn in half. I considered killing him but decided that he would make a better example alive, I was not a senseless killer but it was not out of the question. Just to be safe, I also ran my contacts through a front business in the city so that nopony would know where I actually lived.

The 20th was in two days, whoever wanted my must have been in a hurry to get whatever it was. I usually turned down jobs offered on such short notice, but if the golden ball proved anything, it was that my would-be client had deep pockets. Deep pockets were good; they usually meant good payment later on. First thing’s first, I need to flip this thing for some cash, I thought while eyeing the golden orb.

I walked into my bedroom and rifled through my closet until he found some worn saddlebags and a dirty blue baseball cap which looked like it had been through the war. I put the hat on and made sure it concealed my mane, it wasn't that it stood out but I wanted to be as cautious as possible. Then I walked over to the desk in the corner and grabbed my wallet. As I put the booklet into my saddlebags I noticed an old letter lying under some papers. I brushed the papers aside and saw a letter with the return address: 8430 Mountain ave. Manehattan. I groaned a little bit and remembered why I had left it there in the first place; it was from my twin brother, probably asking me to spend a weekend at his house.

After getting everything I needed, I walked out of the front door. Outside it was bright, a massive contrast to the dim interior of my house. The cold autumn air swirled around me and nipped at the skin under my chocolate brown fur. My wings felt uncomfortable and cramped all of a sudden as they screamed for attention. I gave into the natural urge to take flight, and with a mighty leap soared into the cloudy sky.

The crisp wind felt good as it passed through my fur and under my wings. The cold autumn air helped to clear my mind and gave me time to think about what was going on. As I passed over the richer neighborhoods I looked down and got the feeling he would be breaking into one of them within the week. The marble spires and gold trim of the rich neighborhoods faded into elegant commercial space filled with various shops, restaurants, and other places of business.

As always the commercial areas of the city were packed with ponies and even a few griffins and diamond dogs whose clothes marked them as foreign diplomats or businessmen. Every time I flew over the high traffic areas of the capitol I couldn't help thinking it looked like an ant hill with ornate marble houses instead of dirt and rocks. I pulled into a dive and landed on the one patch of the street which was not occupied with ponies. My sudden and dramatic landing garnered nothing more than a sideways glance from the pedestrians, Canterlot was known for its “strange” residents and I assumed they had all lived there long enough so that almost nothing could faze them.

The street was less impressive than the regal shopping hubs but it still felt more inviting than my home neighborhood. It was part of Canterlot’s old quarter, the streets were cobbled and even though the houses were over four hundred years old they appeared to be in good repair.

I quickly checked my hat and saddle bag to make sure they hadn't fallen off during flight. The check was unnecessary, they were both enchanted to stay on until I landed, but it was comforting to know nothing had come loose in the air. The gold in my bags was heavy and even though it had made flying a bit harder, I knew it would all be worth it soon.

I trotted down the street until he came to a storefront. The neon pawn shop sign was broken and flickered above the door which hung open slightly. The windows were plastered with signs that read “cash for gold!” and “maximum profit, minimal effort” and other signs to that effect in faded yellow lettering. The pawn shop was the definition of shady, but the owner didn't ask questions and he was usually reliable. I pushed open the door with a hoof and took off the baseball cap, placing it on a hat rack right inside the door, I had worn the hat in order to keep my mane tidy while flying but now he didn't need it now and so I freed my black mane with its trademark green stripe.

The inside of the shop was filled with items ranging in value, from moth eaten jackets to ornate swords with pure silver blades. I walked up to the counter and tried to ignore the strange musty smell that always pervaded the shop. The owner was nowhere to be seen so I examined the various guns and jewelry on display in the glass topped cabinet. Crash, the noise came from the back room of the shop and as I turned my head to look I noticed the owner coming out. The clerk was a powder blue stallion with an off white mane; he wore a jeweler's loupe on a string around his neck.

“Ah, Stormwind what do you have for me this time?” the unicorn clerk excitedly asked in a slightly nasal voice.

“Listen, I just want you to tell me how much something is worth; I might consider selling it, but only after that”, I replied.

I then produced the golden orb from my saddlebag and placed it on the table for the clerk to see.

The store owner’s eyes widened and he struggled to keep his jaw from hitting the ground as he inspected the item in front of him. The unicorn reached out with a hoof to touch it but snapped it back as he got over his momentary trance.

“So what do you want me to do with it?” the clerk asked, a twinge of greed coming to his usually giddy voice.

“How much is it worth”, I deadpanned, wanting to skip the formalities.

“Straight to business as always I see”, the clerk chuckled as he levitated the loupe to his eye and inspected the aurous sphere.

The blue stallion mumbled to himself as he inspected the surface of the object, weighed it, and pointed some sort of contraption at it. All the while he mumbled about the value of gold and the market for ancient artifacts, but I really couldn't care less.

The clerk eventually took the gold object off of some sort of scale and placed it back on the counter. “I can’t tell you what it’s worth, sorry”, the clerk said in a slightly disappointed voice.

I cocked my head to one side out of confusion and said “So it’s worthless?”

“No, I think this is some sort of weather manipulation tool but for some reason I can't identify the quality of the gold”, He replied as he levitated the golden ball back into my bag.

I was irritated but not very angry yet “So I’m assuming I can't sell it to you for anything”, I said, trying to get at least some profit out of the object.

I let out an exasperated sigh as the clerk shook his head and took the golden orb back. I put the heavy object into my bag, except this time it was burdensome.

“Need anything else, I know you have a thing for knives and I have a new one you might want”, the clerk said, trying to salvage the business opportunity with me.

I was going to protest but the pawn shop’s owner grabbed an object off of the shelf behind him and placed it on the counter. It was wrapped in tough cloth with smudged markings on it.

“Go on, take a look, I had a feeling you would be around sooner or later so I saved this for you”, the clerk said as he motioned at the cloth object.

I was curious and unrolled the cloth, revealing what the clerk was so determined I would like. Inside the cloth was a knife with a long cylindrical handle and a thin blade. The edges of the blade sparkled a little and I realized it was made of some sort of gem. I turned the blade around and noticed that it had a white claw holding a gear stenciled on the base of the handle.

“A griffin empire ballistic knife, I don’t even want to know how you got a hold of this”, I said, pleased by the find. Ballistic knives were few and far between, but they packed on hell of a punch. They were illegal, very illegal, but I couldn't care less.

“That’s not all, the blades are enchanted so that they don't dull and will guide themselves to their targets”, the clerk said

“How much”, I asked, wanting to add this treasure to my collection of blades.

“150 bits”, the blue unicorn replied.

“Or I could just tell the police about you having possible connections to illegal arms dealing”, I replied even though I had no intention of ratting out my primary source of illicit goods.

“Did I say 150, I meant 30”, the clerk said, giving me an uncomfortable grin.

I nodded and gave him the money before putting my new possession into the saddle bags and left the store.

The clean and crisp air of the outside world came as a stark contrast to the dark and musty pawn shop. I savored the clean air for a few moments before taking off into the cloudy sky. I went straight back to my house and stashed the new knife in a hidden safe before continuing on with my day as before.

The days passed and quickly and soon enough it was the 20th. I was in Canterlot’s theater district; home to restaurants, elegant stores, and as one might assume, theaters. I sat at an outdoor table in front of a cafe, looking out at the crowds of pedestrians who cluttered the streets, trying to spot one pony in particular. The box I received a few days ago had also contained a picture of my contact, which I used in my search.

A waitress came over and put a coffee mug on the table and asked if I wanted anything else. I shook my head without saying a word and drank some of it. The hot beverage helped to wake me up somewhat and I redoubled my efforts to spot the pony I was supposed to find. Eventually I spotted the pony form the picture, a cream colored pegasus mare with a fiery orange mane. I stood up and walked toward her, leaving a few bits on the table for payment. I crossed the street and walked up behind her.

“I'm assuming your Treble Clef”, I said, trying to sound as professional as possible.

“As far as you're concerned, yes, my name is Treble Clef”, she said in a disdainful voice. I could already tell I wouldn't like her.

“We need to find a place to discuss things further, walls have ears you know”, She continued bluntly.

“Nopony is paying attention, as long as you don’t make a show of yourself than we will be invisible”, I replied, my voice gaining a slight edge.

“Fine”, she replied.

“Now I understand you might need my services?” I asked.

“My employer needs a set of files to disappear. Tomorrow there is going to be a party in the royal gardens. A diamond dog dignitary will be there. He will have a briefcase with him; my employer needs you to destroy the contents of the briefcase without him knowing. He will be the only diamond dog at the gathering so I doubt even you could miss him. It’s imperative that the documents are destroyed within the first hour of the party. If you succeed then meet me here the next day at the same time for your payment”, she explained in an emotionless voice.

“Is this payment going to be as worthless as the ‘down payment?’”, I said, putting sarcastic emphasis on “Down Payment”.

“That was a psychic interface”, the now miffed mare said.

I was surprised but he wouldn't let her know it. Psychic interfaces allowed non unicorns to manipulate the world around them indirectly without magic. They were rare and extremely expensive, meaning that this could be a profitable endeavor.

“How much are we talking?” I asked, now more invested in the job than before.

“Four hundred thousand bits, six hundred thousand if you can get this done unnoticed”, she said.

My jaw hit the floor; it was a massive sum of money, especially for such a simple job.

“Who is your employer”, I asked, breaking my usual professionalism.

The cream colored mare turned around and gave me a death glare. “Does it matter?” she asked in a stern voice.

I coughed and replied in a calm voice, “You have a deal, just don't try anything funny, it won't be hard to track you down”

The mare nodded as I walked away. The sun was low on the horizon when I returned home and the air had grown frigid. I opened the door and trotted into my living room. The golden orb sat on a stand on the table, reflecting the light from the fire. I walked up to it and without hesitation put a hoof on it. I felt a jolt run through my leg and recoiled from the unexpected pain. Then I placed the appendage back onto the orb, except this time no pain came. I searched the room for a potential test subject. A book on a shelf caught my eye; I concentrated on it and willed it to levitate over to the table. Within moments the tome was engulfed in a white glow and floated over the table.

It worked, and with the promise of riches in my future, I got ready for the job the next day.

The time came in a blink of an eye, with the sun just dipping below the horizon and the moon taking its place as I approached the royal gardens. It was bordered by a wall of hedges which did little to conceal the sounds of classical music and light conversation from the other side. Parties like this made me feel sick to my stomach; I couldn't stand anything this formal. I wore a black suit which miraculously still fit after two years of being shoved in the corner of my closet.

I walked up to the gate and to my surprise the guard didn't even check if he was on a list or something. Inside of the hedge wall was everything I expected; manicured grass, an orchestra, and ponies in cloths which cost more than my yearly rent. I meandered around in the party, trying to find the target. It took me the better part of fifteen minutes to find him, but I eventually located the diamond dog.

Surprisingly enough nopony was crowding the foreign diplomat as I had expected, and it made me wonder if the other partygoers were just that used to foreigners. I walked up to the dog and noticed that he had the promised briefcase clutched in one of his paws.

Stormwind stood up straight before making himself known, “Hello sir”

“Hello”, the diamond dog replied, turning to face the brown pony.

The diamond dog was tall, at least two and a half times as tall as me, and appeared very muscular. If we got into a fight I wouldn't stand a chance, but I hoped it wouldn't come to that. The creature had dark grey fur, beady yellow eyes, long arms, and a white vest with some sort of tribal emblem embroidered on it.

“Sorry if I’m being rude, but it is quite unusual to see a diamond dog in Canterlot”, I said, doing my best to mimic the high society accent

The dog chuckled and replied, “I hope I don't scare you”

“No, I try not to judge others by their appearance”, I replied, giving an honest answer.

“Honestly I wish more of your kind held those same beliefs”, the diplomat replied.

“What do you mean?” I replied, doing my best to make small talk with the target.

“The ponies fear me, believing me to be some sort of monster”, he in a sad but somewhat disappointed voice.

It took me a minute to realize, but this diamond dog didn't speak with any of the speech impediments they were known for.

I kept up the small talk, painfully aware of my timeline. With half an hour left I asked if the diamond dog, whose name turned out to be Cracked Bones, if he wanted any punch. The dog gratefully accepted the offer and I walked over the refreshment table. The table was full of food on silver platters, all of it appeared to be top quality and very expensive. At the end of the table was a crystal punch bowl surrounded by ornate glasses. I poured two cups of the sweet liquid into the cups and placed them on a platter. Then when nopony was looking, I took a silver tube out from under my right wing and popped the cap off. I then deposited a white tablet into one of the glasses and put the tube back in its hiding place

The pill fizzed and dissolved as I made my way back over to the diamond dog and gave him the punch. The dog took in his paw and raised it on a toast before downing the drink in one gulp.

I knew the drugs would take at least two minutes to have any significant effect.

“So my friend, what do you do?” the diplomat asked.

“I’m a journalist”, it was a practiced lie, one I had told time and time again.

“Should I expect to be riddled with questions any time soon?” Ambassador Bones asked jokingly.

“No I mostly cover business and disputes between wealthy ponies, stupid stuff like that. But it pays the bills and as a bonus I get to attend parties like this occasionally”, I continued to lie.

While he was speaking, I noticed that the ambassador started to look uncomfortable. Bones clutched at his stomach and tried to stifle some coughing. The dog set the briefcase on a nearby table and groaned.

“Please excuse, must be having bad reaction to something in the food”, the diamond dog said as he rushed off towards a small building on the corner of the lawn.

Without hesitation I got to work; it took me under two seconds to unlock the briefcase and reveal its contents. It was full of papers and a rolled up map. I resisted the urge to read the documents but I knew that time was short so he grabbed the papers and stuck them in a hidden pocket of my suit. Then I closed the briefcase again and set it back in the exact same spot as before, hoping that Bones wouldn't notice anything had happened.

The wad of papers created a slight bulge in the side of my coat pocket but nopony seemed to notice. I trotted towards the gate as fast as I could without attracting too much attention. The guard at the gate seemed as disinterested as ever as I left the party in a hurry. As soon as I gained a good distance from the party I took off into the sky and sped home as fast as possible.

I reached my apartment and opened the door. I briskly walked in and closed the blinds on the windows. Then I removed the papers from my pocket and threw them in the hearth without hesitation. I watched as the papers disintegrated into black dust and then disappeared entirely. If the mare had not been lying then soon enough I would be able to retire sooner than he expected much sooner. I slipped out of my suit coat and went to bed, the promise of future riches in my future.

For the second time in two weeks I was awoken by somepony knocking at the door. However this time it was different, frantic instead of the deliberate knocking of the mail mare. I rolled out of bed and glanced up at the clock on my wall, 6:00 it read. It better be Celestia herself knocking on that door, I begrudgingly thought as I trotted over to the front door.

“It’s Sunday, what do you want!” I yelled at the pony who thought waking me early was a good idea.

It turned out to be my neighbor, Tulip. I gave the mare a distasteful look and got ready for her to start blabbing about some gossip or even more meaningless thing. However to my surprise she seemed unusually serious and somber.

“Did you see the morning paper yet?” she asked, a note of desperation coming to her usual cheery voice.

“You know I don't get the paper Tulip”, I deadpanned in response

“Just take this, you might want to have some time alone after you read it”, she said as she gave me the morning paper.

She walked away muttering “Celestia help us”.

I walked back into the living room and put the newspaper on the table upside down. The fire in the hearth had gone out but a strange golden light still lingered in the room. The table was clear, save the newspaper and the psychic interface which now rested on a metal stand. Tulip’s reaction to what was in the paper made me curious and I wasted no time in flipping it over and reading the headline.

23 dead in embassy bombing, was written in block capitals at the top of the paper. My heart skipped a beat as I scoured the rest of the page. There were pictures of the diamond dog embassy, fire billowed out of the windows and bodies of dogs and ponies alike were scattered around like leaves in the breezed. A notion began to form in my head, but I tried to suppress it. I read more and more and learned all of the disturbing details. Then I read the last line, “The bombers managed to stop a set of security documents from reaching security personnel, the loss of these documents caused a drop in security and officials believe that this may have allowed the security breach”. My suspicions from before were confirmed, I was the one who had destroyed the documents.

Rage filled me and shook me to the core. I screamed as I swatted the golden orb off of the table. The golden ball collided with the metal box, connecting with a solid thud and throwing off sparks in all directions. I took a momentary reprieve from my rage and the sparks caught my attention. I knew it shouldn't have done that unless...

Rage turned to determination as I swept up the golden ball and brought it into the kitchen. I turned on the faucet and let the water run over the orb, hoping for the result I wanted. The water, however, seemed to evaporate before it even touched the orb and glowed as it disappeared into the air. I took the ball out of the water and hastily threw it, as well as some other items into my saddle bags and ran out of the door.

After twenty minutes of nonstop running I came to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. With a few good flaps I got up to the roof of the old building. With a little effort I managed to smash in a skylight and make an opening for myself. I descended into the dark building, rusted machinery littered the floor and the room reeked of diesel and death. The ceiling was very high and iron girders served as rafters. I perched on one of the steel girders, ignoring the rat droppings which were strewn about on it. I slung my saddle bag off and hung it from a bolt on the rafter.

I rooted around in the bag and found what I knew I would need soon enough. I produced two knives from the bag, my new ballistic knife and an old survival knife. I strapped them to sheaths on my forelegs and made sure they would not fall off in midair. Then I removed the golden ball from the bag and threw it to the ground. The impact was followed with a golden light and a loud thud. Now all that was left was waiting.

After two hours of staying on a girder the time finally came. I heard the front doors swinging open and multiple voices shouting before being hushed by another voice. I could see the group moving among the old rusted machinery, the cream colored mare from before leading them.

“Find him, and bring me his head!” she yelled to the others.

The ponies below all had black cloaks on and their right ears appeared to have been amputated. The only one who lacked the cloak or missing ear was the mare from before. The group below fanned out in an effort to search for me. One of them walked right under my perch and inspected the floor around him.

I pulled the survival knife from its sheath and dropped down. As I collided with the pony below I drove the blade into his neck. I felt the blade sever two of the vertebrae in the pony’ neck and the body fell lifelessly to the ground. I pulled the knife from the pony’s neck and dragged the body under a dilapidated conveyer belt.

I snuck around, taking cover behind the rusted machinery and crates. Silently I snuck up on the second pony and wrapped my forelegs around his neck. The pony tried to struggle and cry out but with one swift motion I switched his neck with a wet snap. The stallion fell limp and threw the body down once the last vestiges of life had left it. Then I heard hoof steps from around the corner and slid behind a crate.

I heard another pony round the corner and I knew he would spot the body if I let him get any further. I threw the survival knife at a crate near the one I was hiding behind and it connected. The pony must have heard it and changed directions to investigate the noise. He walked past me without noticing. I lunged out of cover and collided with the pony, knocking him over. I wasted no time in driving the straight bladed ballistic knife into his heart. The stallion’s eyes then rolled back into his skull and a little blood flowed out of his mouth.

I retrieved the survival blade and placed it back in his sheath before hunting down the three remaining ponies. The next one was standing next to some old machinery. I crept up on the pony and struck him in the head before he could call out for help. I then proceeded to stomp in his throat to stop the breathing.

The last two stood in the center of the ware house, one was one of the black clad goons and the other was the crème colored mare who had given him the assignment days prior. I drew the ballistic knife and aimed it at the robed stallion’s head. I clamped down on the handle of the knife and sent the blade flying. It flew through the air at remarkable speed, finally colliding with the stallion’s head after a second or two of flight. The knife buried itself in the stallion’s skull and he fell limp instantly.

Upon seeing her comrade fall dead the mare whipped her head around and saw me charging toward her at full speed. I brought out my survival knife and poised myself to strike. I leapt into the air and closed with the mare at incredible speeds, using my wings as a boost. Just as I was about to strike she jumped into the air and struck me in the jaw. The blow sent the blade skidding across the hard floor and the taste of my own blood lingered in my mouth.

I wasted no time striking her in the gut and sending her reeling back. She flew
Into the air and I took off after her. We collided in midair, becoming tangled in a fit of biting, kicking, and other attempts to injure each other. We flew higher and higher all the while striking each other. Then once we were at the ceiling, she rushed forward and latched onto me, sending us both plummeting to the hard ground below.

At the last moment before we hit the ground I twisted so that she would hit first. When we hit the ground her body absorbed most of the force of the impact. I managed to stand back up despite the considerable pain in my rear leg and ribs. However I had fared much better than the mare, which now lay there with legs twisted in directions they shouldn't have been able to go and a pool of blood forming under her.

She chuckled in a raspy voice and said “We could have worked so well together”, then began to cough up blood.

Anger boiled up inside of me and I look into the dyeing pony’s eyes as I spoke. “You know what I should be thanking you, now I know I have a limit. I may have done some bad things before but helping terrorists massacre innocence is where I draw the line!” I screamed.

The dying pony looked back up at me and said in a raspy voice, “Estas ciego de los verdades de nuestro mundo. Su ignorancia va a matarlo”.

“Stop playing games with me I know what you're saying! Who the hell do you work for?” I yelled at her.

She gritted her teeth and looked into my eyes. “I will say no more”, she said convinced as she appeared to bite down on something in her mouth. Her mouth filled with bloody foam and she began to shake violently.

I decided to ease her passing and crushed stomped on her temple as a final blow. As the adrenaline left my system I could feel all of the injuries I had sustained in the aerial fight. Pain shot through me, becoming worse and worse with every passing second. I could feel my broken ribs, broken leg, and a large amount of blood running down the back of my head. Soon the pain became too much to bear and I passed out on the floor among the corpses of my enemies.

As consciousness returned to me I realized that I was not on the cold hard floor of a warehouse, but in a warm bed. I opened my eyes and looked around at the powder blue walls, dirty window, and artificial flowers in the room. At that point I realized I was in a hospital room, probably Canterlot central, judging from the dreary appearance. Then I noticed I wasn’t alone in the room, a black earth stallion with some sort of uniform on stood in the corner of the room.

“I knew you would be up sooner or later”, he said with a voice that oozed authority.

“You here to arrest me?” I replied uninterestedly.

“Maybe I am maybe I’m not, it all depends”, he replied with a small smug tone in his voice

“Oh great, more riddles”, I said sarcastically.

“How did you lure them into that?” He asked in more of a serious tone than I expected.

I don’t know why but I divulged my method, “Here’s the funny thing about radiation and magic; in a vacuum like space radiation is free to travel however on our planet the magic energy which permeates everything interferes with radiation’s ability to move freely. When the two energies come into contact a sort of energy shell is formed as the radiation is contained by the magic, and that energy shell can be tracked. I tried to run water over the gold but it evaporated before making contact, confirming that there was an energy shell around the golden orb. Anypony with the right spell could track down the energy signature and find me. I assumed that the bombers would use it to track me down and so I used it to bait a trap”

“Why are you telling me this?” the uniformed pony asked, although his tone of voice changed.

I let out an exasperated sigh and continued to speak, “The ones I killed couldn't have act alone, there are more of these bastards out there and if you can use any of that to find them then I don't care what happens to me”

“I have to say you have made my job a lot easier”, He said.

“What, are you going to skip the trial and throw me in jail now because I admitted to murder and aiding terrorists”, I said cynically

“No, you see you managed to do something I couldn’t. You were right; they didn't act alone, at first. My team and I hunted down most of the organization but you managed to kill the last of them”, He said, looking me in the eye.

“Now I can go to jail knowing that I helped some shadowy government agency”, I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“Your rash and your technique are sloppy but I see potential in you. I have an offer for you, I work for a group who acts outside of the law to make sure that the Equestrian ponies are protected from dangers that they don't know even exist”, he said in a more friendly tone than before.

“You want me to be an assassin?” I asked incredulously, “and what if I say no”

“Then you get to rot in a cell for the rest of your life for five murders and aiding in a terror attack”, he said bluntly.

I chuckled a little bit before saying, “I think I’ll take the first offer”.

The stallion gave me a proud grin and said, “You have a lot of raw potential, and with training I think that you could become a force to be reckoned with; welcome to Equinox my friend”.

Finding Balance V: A Diamond Most Rough

One year, Seven months ago

We sat at the bar's counter, drinking water, and thinking, mourning our lost tribe. We stared at ourselves in the mirror image of the liquid life. We were about four and a half feet tall, had dark grey fur that was almost black, and wore a black leather jacket that covered the seventy seven black Neziac markers that covered our body, giving us the godly strengths of Nezorax, the Karmacin God of Angelics and Demonics. Along our forehead was a silver line that curved down towards the bridge of our nose. Under our jacket was a blue unicorn horn that we would use in our rituals On the back of our left paw were several more of the tattoos. The first was the symbols for 'avenge those who have died unjustly' and the second was 'send to Oblivion.'

We are a Shaman Priestess, the pathway for the gods' words, the would-be healer for our tribe... if we still had one. They had long been dead, and a Diamond Dog without its tribe was like a timber wolf without its pack, no use to any-dog.

Our tribe had crossed over the border when we were younger, just barely old enough to stand at the knee of the current tribes priest. We were one of the first Diamond Dog tribes to cross over the border and into Equestria. But our bad reputation preceded us everywhere we went. Every town and city already knew of us. We were politely turned away, or just outright chased. It wasn't until We found a clan of zebras who lived near a nameless town in a nameless desert and were willing to to trade with our tribe for what we needed. We lived a stable life for a time and both of our groups prospered. That is. . . until 'it' happened. It was nearly a year later. We were on our way back from a successful trade, when we noticed something was wrong. The earthy smell of our camps central bonfire was absent from the air, as was the sound of pups playing. It was as though our encampment had been muted by some unseen magical force. No such innocence, however. Put on edge, we made our way towards the camp. What we saw changed our life. There, in the center of the camp, stood a large group of unicorns. Scattered around them were the bodies of our entire tribe. Every female, male, pup, young and old, all of them, had been murdered.

We asked the group what had happened, crying tears such as we have not repeated since. They told us, their voices filled with hostility, that we weren't Equestrians, that we didn't belong in 'their' country, and so long as we remained, our fellow dogs would be hunted and killed. And that's when she, the dog we once were, snapped. We had drawn the Neziac symbols for 'kill' and 'suffer' and 'oblivion' on the ground in front of us. The group of unicorns simply stood there, dumbfounded as their bodies, their very souls, were eaten away. They slowly disappeared, their faces contorted into images of immense pain. And we sat there watching and smiling as their consciousnesses vanished, leaving nothing behind. No blood, no bones, even their souls were stripped from them and destroyed.

That had happened two weeks ago, and ever since we had been traveling, trying to find a place to stay. We were turned away everywhere we went. Some of the ponies were outright hostile and would chase us out of the town or city. Some were indifferent. But most were kind. They would let us stay for several days before asking us to leave, feeding us, nurturing us.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" said a loud, gruff voice shaking us from our memories. Turning around, we found a unicorn stallion with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a brown mane standing several feet behind us.

"We are sorry.This one did not hear you." we replied to the obviously drunk stallion.

"You're in my seat." the stallion said forcefully.

"We apologized. We meant no insult to your honor." we said as we slipped off the bar stool.

"Why can't you talk normally huh?" the stallion said as he purposefully bumped into us. Our eyes widened and we gasped. Nodog touched us. Nodog except our parents, and our predecessor shaman, was allowed to touch us. But they were dead. And so we would not be touched. Turning around, we grabbed the unicorn by his mane and slammed his head into the counter and then threw him into the wall. We weren't going to kill him. . . hopefully. We just wanted to teach him a lesson.

We ducked beneath the stallion as he tried to tackle us to the ground, and we kicked out and raked the bottom of his stomach and he screamed as our razor sharp claws cut into his more intimate parts.

"This one feels that the shadows should remove the sand from your soul."

"Ya'll have outstayed your welcome dog." the stallion said, holding his crotch as blood oozed through his hoof. As he said this a large group of stallions grabbed us by our forearms and hind legs. There were a group of twelve stallions that held us down and they kept our arms away from any object, which meant we couldn't draw any Neziac symbols to help us. Yes, we had our tattoos, but with twelve full grown stallions holding us down we couldn't write any symbols.

"Then this one will wait in the dark forests of solitude until the shadows call our true name." we replied.

"'and why do ya'll keep speaking in those damned riddles. Sweet Celestia, you're more annoying than a zebra." the stallion said as the others slowly carried us towards the bar door.

"The sand of this heated land has worked its way into the cracks of your soul and nodog shall remember when the shadows call your name." we said, almost on the verge of tears. Not because we were sad, no, it was because we couldn't fight back. They were touching us and we couldn't do anything about it. When they reached the bar doors, they shoved us through and we stumbled and fell. As quickly as we could, we darted for the closest shadow, letting its protective curtain fall over us. We couldn't look into the light. The sunlight hurt our eyes immensely. But it wasn't physical pain we felt... it was different, like something was trying to tear at our already broken mind. Closing our eyes, we let the Neziac tattoos on our eyelids guide us. Each tattoo granted us great powers, such as superior strength, skin akin to an oak, and many other things besides. But the tattoos were more than that. Each tattoo had its own gestalt consciousness comprised entirely of psychic energy. Which meant that all of them could talk.

Taking a deep breath and keeping our eyes shut, we stepped out of the shadows and into the light. We made our way towards the desert, relying on our hearing, smell, and the advice of our voices . Natural sight is of course impossible through closed eyes, but we didn't see in colors. We saw with an open mind. We saw good and evil.

We saw the evil that was hidden in the land of Equestria. Others only saw what they wanted to, what they were shown. They never looked deeper. They never looked for The Truth. And so we had decide to take it upon ourselves to rid this world of its injustices, so that our future pups could live without fear, without being the target of hatred.

As we walked through the town, almost all of the ponies gave us a wide berth, avoiding us as much as they could.

"SSSee how they avoid you. SSSee how they hate youuu..." whispered a hissing voice in the back of our head.

"They are like the leaves of the season of fallen leaves, they live briefly and then die. They know not what they miss."

"But you can sssshow them the True Path when they do not want to see? That you can make them sssee the error of their wayssss? Blind fool."

"But there is no harm in trying. You cannot blame them for the arrogance they have been raised with." said another voice, elderly and sophisticated in it's speech.

"You do realize that our host is on the edge of insanity as it is? Why antagonize her even more?" said yet another.

"Kitty!" we heard a voice call out from our surroundings. Shaking our head, we left the arguing voices to their own devices. We were sitting on the edge of the town and in front of us was the southern edge of the forest known as the Everfree. In our moment of insanity we had been carving Neziac symbols into the ground in front of us. Cocking our head to the right, we stared at the symbols. They read 'Show this one the way towards the path of-' followed by several words that we didn't recognize. The sun was setting and it was dark enough for us to open our eyes.

"Kitty." said the voice again. Turning around we saw a grey pegasus filly with a blond mane and golden eyes running towards us. Kitty was the filly's nickname for us and for the three days that we had been in the nameless town, we had formed a quick friendship with the filly named Gold Star. Mostly because we were both outcasts and that the filly found our way of speaking humorous.

"Little one, it is almost time for your shadow dreams. Why do you still walk with the wakeful?" we asked the filly.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Then goodbye small one... and may the gods watch over you."

"I'll miss you." Gold Star said as she hugged our leg.

"This one will miss your company." we replied as we knelt down and hugged the filly. "But do not worry, this one will be back after the Mare in the Moon walks among us once again."

"I hope that's soon then." Gold Star said with a yawn as she let go and with one last look at us and then ran towards the town.

We began our journey elsewhere. but were swiftly halted by an uneasy presence. We were being watched. Not very well we might add.

"Those who hide with the shadows cannot shield their presence from one who lives in them. Reveal yourselves." we called out to the two ponies who were hiding in the trees. The first, a pony with white fur, a white mane, and red eyes, dropped from a tree on our right and the other, a pony with a silver mane, a white coat, and yellow eyes, landed clumsily on our left.

"Where's your tribe, shaman?" the one to the left asked respectfully, getting up from his clumsy fall.

"This one's tribe has gone to the spaces between spaces." we replied, slowly turning from side to side so we would know where each stood at any given moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the one to our right asked.

"They're dead idiot." the first one replied.

"So is this who we're looking for?"

"That's what the pri-... mother said."

"Then... uhm... if you would please come with us?" the second one asked us.

"This one does not see the need to travel with you." we told the two stallions that were making us nervous. We could not comprehend why, but they seemed strange.

"Don't worry. We just want to make sure you make it across the forest all right."

"Then we guess it would be acceptable to share this cursed night with you." we replied. As we turned away we saw another pony standing behind us. The mare had blue colored fur, a purple mane and tail, and bright green eyes. There was a sudden pain throughout our body.

"Welcome to Equinox." the mare said right. Then darkness.

Chapter 1: Steaming Piles of Indifference

Chapter 1: Steaming Piles of Indifference

It was a typical Saturday at the Shafted Quiver. The lights were obnoxiously bright, the music was loud, and everypony was having a good time. Drinks, friends, dancing- sometimes Deadeye wondered why he ever bothered with the whole secret assassin shtick and didn't just work in the club full time. This club that he owned...

"Hey, Sureshot!" shouted an all too familiar voice.

Deadeye sighed and rolled his eyes. 'What could possibly be the problem this time?' he wondered sarcastically.

"What is it this time Tibbles?" Deadeye asked, knowing full well what the problem was. It was the same thing every week with him. He would refuse to wear the club's employee uniform, throw a fit about how he used to be a proud soldier of the Equestrian Royal Guard (which was, of course, a lie) , how he was suited for better. Then he would sit at the bar, order seven different drinks, get drunk, and pass out in Deadeye's apartment upstairs.

"You know exactly what the problem is, Sureshot. I ask every week to change the uniforms, and every week you ignore me. I'm serious this time, Deadeye, if you don't get on to making the outfits less whorish, I'm going to flip my shit."

"That's what you say every week Tibbles," Deadeye said exasperatedly. "And every week it's the same answer; no. There's nothing wrong with them." Deadeye, even through his sunglasses, could see Tibble's cheeks turn red. Though he couldn't tell if he was blushing or flushing with anger.

"Deadeye, do you know how these outfits make me feel?" Tibbles asked rhetorically as he undid the ponytail. They make me feel like a two bit tramp. A street walker. A cum-dumpster. I'm talkin' prostitute Deadeye."

"The outfits attract customers, Tibbles. And the female waiters have to wear uniforms just as skimpy. Besides, you don't see Toasty complaining," Deadeye said, referring to the quirky white-maned, blue haired unicorn who worked at the club part-time.

"That's because Toasty's a homo-erotic freak!" Tibbles replied bitterly.

"Regardless, the customers like the uniforms, and what they like is what we give them because we need the money. You know Equinox hasn't been consistent with work, so we've got to rely on what our cover jobs can make us. And before you say anything, mooching off Mother Salve's kindness isn't a viable option. So the uniforms are staying and there isn't a thing you can say to change my mind."

Tibbles slammed his hooves on the bar counter. "Well what if I take one of those fancy bottles of liquor behind you, and crack it over your skull? Will that change your mind, you prancy little son of a bitch!"

"The Dim-witling would do best to not use that word in our presence." said an almost inaudible voice from Deadeye's side of the counter. Deadeye had almost forgotten Mini-Kat was there. She had been following him around for so long that she had sort of melded into the background of his life.

"And what are you going to do about it Kitty Kat? Riddle me to death?" Tibbles was trying to start something. And unfortunately, Mini-Kat was bored enough to be provoked.

"The riddles and metaphors in which we speak are our inheritance of a lost culture, Dim-witling. If you choose to mock them, then perhaps we should use them to kill you." Mini-Kat stood up and snarled at Tibbles. She was a good foot and a half taller than the stallion, and physically stronger in every which way but flight. The female Diamond Dog shaman would tear him apart given the chance. Deadeye didn't want that kind of literal bloodstain sitting on the floor of his establishment.

"Mini!" he scolded. "Behave yourself! Sit and be calm!"

Mini-Kat continued to glare and bare her teeth at Tibbles. Tibbles glared right back, waiting for her to make a move. But Mini-Kat softened her expression and relaxed her mouth, sitting back down behind the bar.

"As you wish Farseer," Mini-Kat said submissively. "Thank the Farseer, Dim-witling. He is the only reason you still stand before us. We would have torn your stomach out and force-fed it to you repeatedly until you starved to death, if not for him." She lied on the floor and closed her eyes, returning to the rest that Tibble's antagonizing had awoken her from.

Tibbles turned and glared at Deadeye.

"You just can't let me have any fun, can you?" Tibbles questioned.

"Not if it threatens my place of business."

"Fine," Tibbles grumbled. "Just get me my usual so I can forget how bored I am."

"Two Blacklists, a Crushed Larynx, and one Pandora's Tomorrow coming right up."

Deadeye turned to the fabulous wall of liquors that stood behind him, vaguely aware of Tibbles grumbling on about how he used to be a member of the Royal Guard. This wall was Deadeye's gun away from his gun. Each ale, lager, rum(spiced or otherwise), Vodka, Cabernet, Chardonnay, some imported some not- each one was his to serve; to serve to the ponies who ordered them. Each one, his to mix and shake and stir as he pleased. It was one of the few things that could have made him happy.

As he mixed Tibble's drinks, Deadeye gave the club a general scan. Everything seemed as it should be. Agonoize was at the DJ booth turning out something that sounded like talons being dragged across a blackboard while a whoopee cushion was played through a megaphone. It was almost painful to listen to, but the crowd loved it. Joker was running his gambling table in the corner, and as usual, was raking it in. All of the members of Equinox, blended in flawlessly with the crowd, some working their cover job, others just there to have a good time. Any pony who didn't know what to look for would just see them as normal ponies, like Toasty... not to say that Toasty was normal.

There were a few faces missing from the scene though. Thatch and Crisp were currently touring with the International Equestrian Harmonic Society and wouldn't be back until sometime around the Grand Galloping Gala; and TB was currently dealing with an extensive amount of demolition permit paperwork, so Deadeye wasn't too concerned with their absence. Pools, as far as he knew, was brushing up on his judicial knowledge, and NoPony... well nopony was really sure where he went in his free time. He'd shown up at the club once, but he'd just sat in a corner booth, eating pretzel rods and ordering about two gallons of water. That experience wasn't repeated.

Anyhow, essentially everypony who wasn't at the club was either working at their cover or getting drunk back at the orphanage, in the underground bar that Mother Salve pretended didn't bother her. Well everypony but two.

"Hey Sureshot," Tibbles said as Deadeye hooved him the bottled liver cancer that was Pandora's Tomorrow.

"What Tibbles?"

"Where's Stealth? He never misses a Saturday at the Quiver."

"Stealth... oh, you mean Sugarcane. He and Boomer are taking care of that sex trafficking ring we've been hearing so much about."

"Must be nice, having some actual work to do. Wish I had the chance to slap around a pimp or two."

"Yeah, but think about what what would happen if you were overpowered."

"How 'bout I don't and say I did. Man, you're such a downer, Sureshot."

"You call it being a downer," Deadeye said, giving Tibbles the rest of his liver killing drinks. "I call it being realistic."

"Well believe it or not 'realism' is actually making me miss Stormwind. Where is he, now that I think about him?"

"You know what they say; old habits die hard. Last I heard from him,he was robbing a few of the well to do residents of Canterlot blind."

"Hmph. Well, you gotta make a living somehow, I guess." Tibbles said.

"Yeah," Deadeye replied, "I guess."

The two ponies stopped talking, Tibbles was busy with his alcohol, and Deadeye having gone back to scanning the club. Agonoize had surprised the crowd with a guest DJ, and they'd gone wild for her. Deadeye wasn't sure what her real name was, but the music she put on was a bit more pleasant than Agonoize, so he didn't mind.

There was a bit of confusion over at Joker's table, involving one of his regulars, a unicorn named Kozu. Deadeye couldn't hear them from the bar, but it was probably the problem they had every weekend. Both would pull a full house consisting of three aces and two kings, and then get into an argument over where the extra two aces came from and who was cheating. The issue never escalated though, at this point it'd become more of a personal joke between the two. Some other pony didn't seem to get the joke though. A stallion, a unicorn with a bright blue mane and a shield for a cutie mark. He had stepped up to the table and seemed to be lecturing them about their poor habits, which Deadeye could tell because, Joker had that look on his face that he got whenever Mother Salve talked to him about the immorality of gambling. The stallion obviously hadn't been to this club before, and come to think of it, Deadeye had never seen him around Manehatten before. And Deadeye had seen an awful lot of ponies.

Whatever the stallion was talking about, he’d stopped lecturing the two gamblers, because Joker's face perked up with interest. Joker said something unintelligible and pointed his hoof towards Deadeye. The stallion looked over his shoulder at the bar, nodded, and presumably said 'thank you.' He turned and walked towards the bar, wading through a sea of partying ponies.

"Tibbles, take a look at this guy. We might have a job here."

"No kidding?" Tibbles questioned. He hadn't even finished his Pandora's Tomorrow yet.

"Just take a look behind you." Deadeye replied.

Tibbles craned his head to get a look at the potential client. He was currently caught in a mosh, and was nose-deep in another stallions flank. Deadeye thought it was funny, but Mini-Kat suddenly looked like she was concerned.

"What's up Mini-Kat?" Deadeye asked.

"That stallion... he smells of conformity and discipline. Even if he wasn't so offensive to our eye, his smell alone would make him known to us. It is the scent of a royal guardspony, quite out of place in this filthy mass of sweat and immorality... yes, I am perfectly aware that fun is generally immoral."

"Who was that last bit directed at, Mini?"

"Whoever you wish it to be, Farseer. Speech cannot be directed, simply spoken and interpreted. However, if you're asking whom the comment was for, it was us."

"Talking to you never gets any easier, and I seriously doubt if it ever will."

"Anything easy isn't worth doing, Farseer, Returning to our earlier topic, the guard is most certainly here on business. Though what that business is, we cannot be sure."

"Well, maybe he'll tell us himself."

The stallion managed to escape from the mosh, a little shaken up, but intact. He approached the bar counter, giving a sideways look at Mini-Kat as he sat down.

"Hello, stranger," Deadey said. "What can I get for you?"

"I'd like a drink for my lady. She's my princess, my sunshine, and I want to let her know how special I think she is."

He was a guard, all right. A few higher-ups in the Royal Guard were provided with a code to be used when briefing various members of Equinox on a mission. Various analogies were used to refer to a type of mission, the pony they would prefer to do the mission, and the pony giving the go-ahead for it. Judging from what the stallion had said, this was a big one, a job from Princess Celestia herself.

"I wouldn't recommend a drink for that, but I know a guy who might be able to help."

"Sounds great. What can he offer?"

"What do you need?"

"I was thinking a private party. You know, with catering, music, entertainment... maybe even a cake."

"I think we can manage that. It's going to cost you quite a few bits though."

"Money's no object here. Consider my payment a blank check for the moment."

"That sounds like a deal to me, guy. But hey, what's your name?" I need to know who I'm leaving the bill with."

"The name's Shining Armor."

"Strong name. Alright, Shining, your mare can expect quite the party."

"Great. I'll be expecting you three days from now. Canterlot Castle. Don't disappoint me."

"It's been three years since I disappointed anypony, Shining. You don't have to worry."

Shining Armor smiled and Deadeye smiled back as Shining Armor walked away towards the exit. And as he walked out the door, Deadeye sighed with exasperation."

"So what's up, Sureshot?" Tibbles asked. "Do we have a job or what?"

"I don't know, Tibs," Deadeye replied. "That stallion didn't seem like a newbie, but he certainly didn't know the code well. I'm not even sure what that bit about the cake was supposed to mean."

"Were you able to discern anything from he said, Farseer?" Kat asked.

"Yes. And I don't really like it. I mean sure, it could be a job, but it could be a bunch of other things."

"And what exactly is 'it,' Far-seer?"

Deadeye sighed. Nearly a year without work, and then out of the blue, news like this. A turn of events this sudden could mean a lot of good things- but it could also mean a lot of bad.

"Princess Celestia herself has called for a meeting. In Canterlot."

"Well, that's no reason to be sulking, Sureshot!" Tibbles shouted with glee. "If the princess has a job for us, then it has to be a good one. Man, we are gonna make bank on this!"

"Sorry to burst your bull," Deadeye said, not at all sorry to be bursting Tibble's bubble. "But I said meeting, not job. We've been called to a meeting in Canterlot."

"And by 'we,' Far-seer?" Mini-Kat inquired.

"I mean all of us. Everypony, and dog, and griffon. Every member of Equinox, in Equestria and out."

"Oh... that's weird," said Tibbles. "Especially when you think about the fact that she has no real authority over us!"

"No official authority true. But essentially every action by every one of our members have taken is grounds for execution five times over. The fact that she knows about all of these actions puts us in an awkward position."

"How so, Far-seer?"

"Think about it Mini. An organization that for a millenium has been upholding a state of peace in Equestria, but through what means?" It was a rhetorical question, but Tibbles didn't catch that; so he answered.

"Murder, misanthropy, grand theft, the list goes on for miles."

"That it does Tibb's; And yet, Celestia has allowed us to keep on truckin’, so to speak. Our lives are at the mercy of her opinion of our necessity. I guess I'm just worried this is some elaborate plan to get rid of us."

"Paranoia and fear are necessary parts of life, Far-seer. They are the catalysts of common sense, and prolongers of life. But in excess, they do quite the opposite. Do not allow you mind to be clouded, Far-seer, lest you lose sight of The Truth."

"Here's what I got out of that Mini. Blah, blah, fear is good, blah, blah, but don't be too afraid."

"That was our basic meaning, yes. Forgive our long-windedness, Far-seer."

"It's fine, Mini. And you're right anyway. I'm letting my fears get the better of me. Still though, whatevers going on here, it's going to be big. I mean, what reason could there possibly be for a call like this?"

This question wasn't rhetorical, but none of them could think of an answer. In any case, there were better things to do then ponder the hypotheticals that could be pulled from this unusual situation. There was work to be done. Deadeye glanced over at Joker, who’d been watching the whole situation unfold from his table. All the other participants of the poker game had left and no more seemed to be arriving, so he motioned for Joker to come to the bar. Flying over the crowd, he landed behind the counter-top.

“So what was the deal with captain obvious?” Joker questioned.

“Long story short, we've got probable work.”

“Oh. A meeting. . . great.”

“Yeah. Hey, I know it’s my night to work the bar, but your table seems pretty empty about now, so-”

“Send the message. I get what’s goin’ on here, and honestly. . . not so sure I like it.”

“Same here, Joker. Mini-Kat?”

“Yes, Far-seer?”

“Upstairs. We have a message to send.”

“We understand, Far-seer.”

Finding Balnace III: Just a Poor ol' Colt

An indeterminate amount of time ago

“Is this really what you wanted?”

My mind was not my ally, and so, just like the remainder of my good standing, I cast it out. The thoughts evaporated into lingering clouds that pestered my vision instead as I panted out loud into the cold air.

The sugarcane-green fetlocks below was invaded by a high tide of red, which formed splotches that reminded me of an attacking griffin horde that wanted nothing more than to feast on my rotting body. I recoiled in shock, giving a startled yelp as I tripped over my own hooves and landed with a sloppy splash into the red puddle below.

I knew there was no going back now, and I’ve been telling myself that from the beginning. Ponies will avoid me; hell, they might even banish me from their towns and provinces once they find out I’m a murderer. Unlike the other murderers, however, I was perfectly justified in my cause to kill.

Some might argue that such a cause can never exist; that the value of a single life is too high for any sense of revenge or justice. Who are they to make such a rule in the first place? These are the same ponies who live their life without terrible strife, without a family that claims every damn day that you’re not worth the shit of a pig.

I mulled over my recent crime as I slowly raised myself up to my hooves, shaking the excess blood from my hair and taking off my working clothes. I no longer need these things to tie me down to Sugarcane Valley, the small-time farm my family operates.

I reached up and threw my poor-boy hat onto the brown earth, which earned me a wet slap and a spritz of blood to my face for my efforts. Directly in front of me rested the headless bodies of my father, mother, and big brother. Their names are irrelevant, just like their lives.

Did I feel remorse for my actions? Of course I did. Who could kill the mare and stallion that birthed them into the world and not feel anything? A monster, that’s who.

I didn’t feel anything for my twin brother, however, since he was nothing more than a musclebound braggart with nothing better to do then badmouth my good name and accuse me of being a failed abortion for the twenty years I’ve been alive. This motherfucker earned his spot in the dirt, which is ironically in the spot that was equal to my worth.

A pile of pig shit.

I couldn’t stop myself from giving a small chuckle at that. He was the one who said that in the first place.

Eventually the laughter stopped, and I found myself settling down into the dirt, laying on the soft expanse of my stomach. I reached out a hoof to grab my method of assassination, a recently sharpened combat knife I had picked up from a guy in Manehattan. I placed said weapon back into its sheath on my right leg after I cleaned it in the dirt, giving a sigh as I pushed myself back off the ground.

I turned on my hooves and walked the familiar path back to the homestead with the intent of grabbing a shovel to add to this crop’s manure. Ponies are gonna get suspicious when my mom and pop are found missing, but those are just the brakes on the train I guess.

The dirt of the path acted as a cohesive agent, soaking into the blood on my hooves and coat. A nipping wind battered against the warmth of my body, blowing the pink-grapefruit mane of mine all about, and it made no attempt in stopping the seductive wind’s advances. I squinted to keep most of the cold air out of my eyes, but it was as if each current was given grappling hooks to latch onto the eye skin and hold fast.

My mind eluded me still, but I feel it’s for the best. There’s no doubt in my heart that my mind’s become a dark place now, seeing as how my family is dead.

A couple of tears ran down my face, fleeing the dark thoughts from my mind like escaping victims in a horror film. My heart felt as if it was bucking my lungs, and I was finding it hard to walk straight as the familiar outline of my house came into view past a small clearing of wheat. Ominous black circles betrayed my will in staying awake as I stumbled from the wheat fields and entered the front yard of my farmhouse.

“I’m...so close.” My breaths were becoming slower as the circles expanded slowly, little cracks of black lightning crawling from the masses of darkness to cover my vision quicker. “If only pops had hit me in the temple...I would...be doing better than this.”

My back hooves dragged along the ground now, and I knew that my front hooves weren’t that far behind. I put everything I had into at least reaching the steps, falling face first into the cold embrace of light-green colored wood. My eyes fluttered like a crippling candle’s flame, and it was during this time of exhaustion that my mind decided to find me again.

“Is this really what you wanted, Sugarcane Orchards? You’re a criminal now. You might as well leave and never come back. Going into hiding is your only option now.”

“I...I can’t let him be right!” My response was voiced no higher than a croak of weariness.

“Sugar Stack’s opinion is below you. It’s been that way since forever, and that’s never gonna change.”

“Youse got some nerve...fucking brain.” My retorts are getting weaker and weaker, and my voice was having no problem following the decline.

“We’re one in the same. Don’t talk like we’re not.”

“...Fine.” And my vision and consciousness faded into oblivion.

I came to after what felt like hours later based on my sore neck as my head rested upon the bottom step, leaving my body laying raggedly on the unforgiving earth below. I gave a groan of pain as I stood myself up slowly, also giving a surprised yelp when my body didn’t want to do the same thing and caused me to stumble.

My face almost became reacquainted with the step, but through sheer force of will was I able to destroy that possibility from happening.

Now that I was on my hooves, I took a moment to compose myself before proceeding up the steps and onto the front porch, finding the shovel and...a cloaked figure!?

“What’s all this!? What’re youse doing here!?” I yelled in panic, watching with baited breath as the pony-shaped black figure got off the hammock on the porch from where it had been silently observing me. I backpedaled a step, the old boards creaking under our combined weight as the wood sang a song of protest.

“I saw what you did.” The voice was like that of a grown stallion. I could only make out an ash-grey muzzle and pale-yellow hooves below jagged fetlocks.

His words, however, sent my panic into overdrive. If he truly saw what I did, then he’s a witness to my crime and therefore, has to be snuffed like my family. I drew my sharp knife without a second word, charging the robed figure who offered a smile at my sudden attack.

Before the knife could reach his chest, the figure sidestepped soundlessly and found a way to connect a punch under my chin during the evasive move. My forward motion was halted, all momentum shifting towards my ascent into the air as a little blood and the knife left my mouth. My vision swam with stars as I flipped in the air, my back facing the ground now instead of my butt.

Another blow of otherworldly force slammed into my right side, once again stopping my momentum. From my recently hit side came enough force to send me through the wooden railing of my porch, making cry out in pain as three or four loud snaps came from the hit. I flew for about two seconds before I slammed into the ground like a boulder down a mountain face, rolling uncontrollably in obscene amounts of pain all the while.

I prayed that my body would stop before I ended up rolling into the-

My mouth let loose a constant stream of loud-voiced profanities as my side was introduced to rogue pitchfork that had been laying on its side. The pain was excruciating, but I willed myself to stay awake. I was wincing in pain as the cold metal dug into my flesh like a million frozen daggers, getting a pained hiss from me every so often.

I opened an eye just to find the robed mothefucker from earlier in front of my face.

“Didn’t mean ta kick ya so hard, mate! The knife had me ah little bristled in the bushes, ya know.” His voice suddenly became light, with a strong Ausmarian accent to it.

“...Grgh...Youse a dead stallion...” I growled out but hissed in pain right after.

“Listen ya little blighter, I’m not too big on the chunders, so you better not have the rumbles in ya gut! I can help ya out of this mess, seppo, but I needs a promise from ya’s that guarantees no more attacks. You got a Buckley’s chance of tearing me a new one, mate!” The robed stallion exclaimed happily, slapping a hoof onto his chest and smiling.

My response, of course, was to black out once more.

“...So you ended up bringing a bloody stallion into my cellar?”

“Well I couldn’t leave the bloke to cark it, right? Had to go somewhere!”

“Why not a hospital...Or that shady zebra mare you buy those Celestia-forsaken elixirs from? Did you forget that I run an orphanage here!? I have foals to take care of, and seeing some bloody stallion that’s passed out in the cellar is no good for their psyche!”

“Feeling clucky aren’t we, Mother Salve? Other members of Equinox come here to rest after wrapping up odds and ends! This is one corker of a hideout, and it’s the only place I could think of to bring him!”

“As long as he stays down here, Boomer, I’m sure I can let this transgression go unchallenged. Don’t pull any hogwash like this again, or it’s the O’Natural for you!”

“Crikey! Well, you best be going back to ya joeys upstairs, right? I’ll give this bloke the drum when he comes to.”

“Just make sure you leave no traces of what’s happening down here...and clean up that stallion for Celestia’s sake!”

“Ace! You can count on me, Mother Salve!”

“I bid thee good day then, Boomer.”

This conversation acted as the crane that wrenched my consciousness out of the abyss, making me blink rapidly and drop my jaw wearily. I was laying on some type of cold surface, but based on the way I felt my back hooves dangle, I can say that I’m on some type of cot or bed.

Surprisingly enough, my ribs and stab wound were absent of pain, making me question if I even had those injuries to begin with.

“Holey dooley! You’re a tough little blighter! Good onya, getting up as early as you did!”

“I can’t stand too much of that accent! Where the fuck am I!?”

“Woah there, skipper! I see tha’ panic written all over ya face! You gotta come off it, mate.”

I looked over my shoulder as my nerves begun to relax, for I had briefly entertained the thought that this motherfucker had dragged me down into his basement to cut me up. I don’t trust him too much, but I’m guessing he’s the one that dressed my wounds if the bloody bandages are anything to go by.

“...What do youse want from me? I ain’t got nothin to give but my name and breath!” I called out angrily, which brought the stallion into my field of vision quickly. He raised a hoof to his mouth and shushed me harshly, a glare from his cloudy white eyes accompanying the gesture.

“Woah, woah, woah, mate! She’ll be right, she’ll be right! No need to spit the dummy, you drongo! We’re above an orphanage, and it’s the little joey’s and sheila’s naptime right about now.” The stallion whispered harshly, making me wince at the noxious cloud of alcohol that spewed from his mouth.

“I have every right ta scream, ya bonehead! You practically mmpghm grgnnmm-” I was silenced by an ash-grey hoof that was shoved into my mouth in front of my teeth. I was thinking about biting him, but then again I don’t know what kind of fucking diseases this bum had.

“That bite of yours is about as useful as teets on a bull! Settle down, ya’ whacka!” The stallion whispered harsher than before, practically grinding the words out from his teeth. I glared at him, but his face didn’t change to respond to my look, which made me piece two and two together.

“Gret yoor huuph oot mah moof, mahte!” My demand was understood, and the stallion reluctantly removed his hoof from my mouth like I asked. I turned my head and spat a mixture of sweat, dirt, and spit onto the ground in disgust before turning my head to look at him again.

Now that the robe was removed, I could see everything this stallion wore. He had a soft face that matched his young voice, and his physique for a pegasus was huge. I mean, my pops won the Manehattan Iron Pony Competition two years straight, and I still think this dick had more muscle on him than my own pops! It wasn’t as extravagant as I I’m making it sound, but damn was he leaner than the bulls on our farm!

His ash-grey wings were folded on top of a white button-up shirt with black buttons.Two of the three buttons were fastened, but the top one was left untouched, which made his collar stick up like he was some sort of delinquent in those Neighpon comic books the nerds read in the coffee shops around Manehattan. His shirt dipped into a pair of dark-tan cargo shorts that stopped immediately below his knees.

Inclining my head back so that we were looking at each other, I noticed the dark-brown bush hat that sat atop his messy white locks.

As if noticing me checking him out, the stallion raised an eyebrow. “There a reason you crackin onto me, mate?”

“What the hell does that even mean!? Fucking aussies...” I thought with some venom as I shook my head rapidly before glaring at him.

“Can youse step-off, man? You’re kinda in my space right now.”

“I want your name first.” His reply was quick, and I did a double take when it assaulted my ears.

“Sugarcane Orchards, now get off,” I responded just as quick as he did, getting the stallion to back off like I wanted. Once he was out of my field of vision, I sat up onto my hooves and jumped off the cot he had laid me on amidst my unconscious slumber. “Two things: who the hell are you, and where the hell are we?”

“In a church-turned-orphanage, mate. It’s ran by Mother Salve, and she takes care of all the little tykes that run around upstairs. I can’t tell you my name unless you join me in an organization.” That last sentence he left hanging, like it was gonna get me to ask for more information...

...It did.

“Uh, what’s this organization youse talking about?” I turned away from looking at the darkness surrounding us, leaving my attempts at figuring out what lied beyond that veil of abyss. The only light in this room was from a swinging light bulb over my cot. My eyes locked onto his as I sat down.

“Equinox. I can’t say anything else, less the boss gets up my freckle. Last time he did that, I could see him doing it.” He tapped his eyes for emphasis, making me wince and back away a little bit.

“This is the weirdest shit that’s ever happened to me. I live on small-time sugarcane farm, so getting fucked up and then kidnapped is a little new to me. Well, killing my fam’ is new too.” I said with minor shock at how easily those last few words rolled off my tongue.

“Too right, mate; now, do you want to join Equinox or what? You say no, and you’re gonna have to cark it. Can’t let anyone know I exist, after all.” My eyes widened as the stallion spoke his claim like there was nothing to it, as if he’s done some fucked up shit like that everyday since he was born.

“Youse serious!? Hey, come on now!” I began backing up, but I nearly shat myself as he chuckled and followed me with a cocksure smile on his face.

“Well, let’s have it then! Whataya say, mate?”

“Holy shit! He’s gonna kill me off in this dusty-ass orphanage, in this dinky-ass basement, surrounded by all this damn darkness! I don’t wanna be offed by some weird-ass aussie fucker in a basement! I’m...I’m gonna accept!” My eyes felt like they were gonna go off on vacation, but they had good reason to leave, what with the way that stallion whipped my combat knife out from the baggy pocket on the left side of his shirt.

“Ere we go, mate~!”

“I’ll join! I’LL JOIN!” My screaming assent caused the stallion to pause before he threw the knife at me, which made me scream in terror as it sliced into my left shoulder blade.

“Bound by blood, it is! Alrighty then, mate, name’s Boomer! Welcome to Equinox!” He stated happily as I hissed in pain while glaring at him.

“Youse fucking threw a knife at me! How the fuck is that an initiation!?” My retort was ignored by Boomer, for he promptly turned towards the darkness and cupped his hooves around his muzzle.

“He accepted, blokes! Why dontcha show the joey why it was good for him to give Equinox a burl!” Boomer exclaimed as the rest of the long basement revealed itself to me in the bright flash of thirteen or so light bulbs turning on.

“This is a fucking nightmare.” My voice was weaker than normal as I looked on in disbelief, the robed figures of ponies, diamond dogs and griffins making themselves known in the light. All of them proceeded to raise a glass filled with-

“Oi, you fucking bogans! Save some of the piss for me,” Boomer interrupted, making me turn my wide eye gaze on him as he proceeded over to one of the tables and sat down, grabbing a mug that was filled to the brim with frothing lager, based on its color, and gulped it down in four seconds flat!

“Now that’s how you skull the piss, mates! Get over here, drongo, and have a go at these coldies!” Boomer turned away from looking at me, yelling at a red mare in a maid’s outfit to get him more booze.

“By Celestia’s ass and snatch, these fuckers are insane!” I whispered to myself in a scared manner. I got up, grabbed and pulled my combat knife out with my teeth, and carried myself and the knife over to Boomer’s table. The blind fucker didn’t see me coming as the waitress came in between me and him, but he definitely felt me sit down by the way I practically crashed my ass onto the cushion below.

“Oi, Shirley Temple, how bout a round for the greenhorn, eh?” Boomer’s request caused the red mare with deeper red mane to roll her fuschia eyes before turning around, taking on a face of surprise, letting said face wilt, and adopt a look of seduction. She winked before stepping away, and I’m not afraid of admitting that I followed her gait all the way to the bar, which was being run by a tan stallion with a greasy black pencil moustache and combed-back mane.

Said stallion conversed with Shirley for a moment, looked back to me, frowned like I hit the mare he just talked to, and went to work filling up a glass mug with lager from a barrel and nozzle. I let my head turn around to face Boomer, knowing that my booze was on its way.

“Not to rain on your booze parade, bozo, but what the hell is all this shit?” My rude way of asking was ignored as Boomer downed his fourth mug of lager and wiped his mouth with a hoof.

“Many blokes call this place ‘Refuge’, but I call it ‘The Down Under’. Whatevs’, right?” I opened my mouth to intervene, but he was too quick with his next sentence. “Oh, and mind you none that horrible scene at your home, mate. I buried them good, and here’s some proper advice too,” Boomer began as he indicated for me to move closer, to which I obliged. “Give up on that farm. You don’t look the roll, and you don’t fit the mold. I come from the Never Never, and I know a lot more about farming than you ever will.”

I harrumphed and sat back, crossing my front hooves over my chest and blowing a stray bang of pink-grapefruit mane out of my face. “Whatevs’, ya fool. It’s not like I can stay here forever, and everyone in Manehattan’s marketplace knows me by name! I can’t get away from this crime and you know it!” My angry retort caused Boomer to roll his eyes.

“Then you come up with a codename and dress up in the robes. My real name ain’t Boomer, mate, that’d be stupid. It’s my Equinox codename, and I suggest you get yourself one...and a new dagger too. That thing you got’s bloody bodgy.” Boomer, after saying his piece, put his hoof on one of the seven mugs Shirley apparently brought him and downed another one, giving the loudest belch I’ve ever heard soon after.

I grimaced in disgust as memories of my brother belching in my face when I was little sprung forth from my mind.

“Don’t mind Boomer none, sugah.” The silky smooth voice of a mare came up from my left side, revealing itself soon after to be Shirley Temple’s fine-ass. She had a ‘southern belle’ type of speech, which was only made more pretty by the fact she was about twenty-one, which is my age. “He can be a bit...uncouth sometimes. Oh! Here’s ya lager, honey.” Her red horn lit up in fuchsia magic as she levitated down in front of me.

“Thanks. The name’s-” I was immediately hit in the face by what felt like a glass mug, making me fall back while shooting my front hooves all about in order to grab something with the intent of stopping myself. I grabbed something soft. yanked it, and was promptly assaulted with the biggest red plot ever.

“Ah!” Shirley’s yelp of surprise was blocked out as she sat on my face, giving me an eyeful of red and white horizontally-striped panties.

I’ve had my fair share of naughty comics hidden under my bed, but reality destroys every fantasy that may have popped up over the years. My face heated up as Shirley got off of me, apologizing profusely and giving overexaggerated bows of repentance before slapping Boomer in the back of the head. She then strutted off with her nose in the air and a massive blush that bled through her face.

“Why the fuck would youse do that, fucking aussie faggot,” I roared in outrage, hearing the stallion give a couple guffaws of laughter before downing another pint. “She was obviously hitting on me, and it’s been a while since my first crush!” I picked myself up from the floor, grabbing the knife in my mouth as I did so.

I threw it at Boomer’s side of the table, watching the good-sized dagger embed itself into the black wood of the table right in front of Boomer’s mug. He raised an eyebrow before taking the knife in his own teeth, applying pressure, then shattering it like it was the easiest thing in Equestria to do.

My mouth, of course, hit the table in disbelief as he spat the metal fragments onto the table.

“I don’t believe in big-noting yourself, but my chompers are built tougher than most steel out there! Better think twice before throwing me your weapon, mate.” Boomer tapped the side of his head with a hoof, a smug grin on his face as he did so. This made me snarl.

“Go fuck yourself with a cactus.”

“Ha! ‘With a cactus’, he says! Shut ya trap, ya drongo, and come up with a nickname. That’s why I had to knock ya rocker earlier, because you almost gave up your government!” Boomer finished as he knocked back the last of his mugs, giving another belch of satisfaction.

“Stealth.” My response caused the stallion to do a spit-take with his amber liquid, wiping his maw with a front hoof as he promptly fell out laughing.

“You’re about as stealthy as a shag on a rock, whacker!”

“I’m sticking with it, you numbfuck. Now let me at least drink my lager in peace.” My response caused the stallion to laugh even harder, making me give another snarl of annoyance before I inserted my hoof through the handle of the mug and lifted it off the table to my mouth, which I then opened to let the amber alcohol fall into my mouth. The warmth traveled down my throat, and I began feeling a little light headed when I finished, slamming the mug down with an exhale of satisfaction.

“It has a fair ring to it, Stealth.” Boomer announced without his usual luster, making me raise an eyebrow at him.

“Something on your mind, Boomer?” My question hung in the air like a fog cloud, making Boomer shiver at it uncontrollably.

“Shivers, mate! I was just thinking about the piece of work you’re gonna have to meet later on. He’s the best in Equinox with sharp weapons, and if you want a good dagger and trainer, that’s your bull.” Boomer explained before getting up and walking towards the bar. I followed his path just to see him pass by Shirley Temple as she made her way over to me.

“Sorry about earlier, sugah. Didn’t mean to put my mother’s inheritance in your face like that.” I was put off by her statement- or odd attempt at a joke -but I breezed past it for her, helping to alleviate the awkward air around us as she sat next to me.

“Don’t worry about it! It was nice!” I immediately slapped my hooves over my mouth and widened my eyes, turning my head to face Shirley whose expression nearly caused my heart to blow into tiny bits and pieces.

“Did...Did you really just say that?” Her face was one of pure bewilderment, making me wince.

“Uh...yeah?” I tried with in hopes of alleviating that face.

“Oh, thank you!” I was wrapped up in a hug by the mare. “Everyone else thinks it’s too big, and that I might be a distant relative of Princess Celestia because of that fact! You’ve made me so happy!” As she said this, I tried raising a hoof to return the embrace but ran into squishy resistance.

My blush only deepened as I figured out what I just frisked. I decided to force my way through the fit but gelatinous expanse of flank to hug her back, which she sighed into.

“I’ve never gotten a hug from another stallion besides my father. It feels nice. Oh, and Boomer said to go in the back to meet your new trainer, sugah.” Shirley Temple let me go, gave me a peck on the cheek, smiled cutely and flitted her long eyelashes, then got up and left after picking up my mug in her magic.

I watched that ass like a hawk as it sashayed away, and I nearly choked on my breath as she looked back at me with a knowing grin.

“She knows she’s bad! Woo!” I thought happily before she pointed at an all black door past the tables. I nodded, smiled, and waved at her as I got up and made my way through the sea of tables and robed figures. They looked at me, some of them even laughing as I finally reached the door and opened it, coming into a room that was lit by a candle-covered chandelier.

The red light flickered back and forth, and I could just barely make out the hulking form of a diamond dog in the center of the brown flooring. The light glinted off the broadsword it had placed in front of its legs, and his husky inhales and exhales made my coat stand out as electricity coursed through my nerves.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the metal door shut loudly behind me, a loud clamor ringing out in the room that made all the lights go out. The only sound was the draft and my breathing, for I could no longer hear the diamond dog.

I walked forward only to have my neck slap something cold and metallic, and I nearly screamed like a bitch when the candles came back on to reveal the diamond dog from earlier looming over me with his broadsword in my neck.

“What pony want?” I took in his chestnut fur and hazel eyes as the hulking broadsword, which would be a claymore to a pony, seemed ready to take my life if I even blinked the wrong way.

“B-b-boomer said you could teach me how to use daggers!? H-he a-also said that I could pick up a better weapon from you as well!” At my exclamation of fear, the diamond dog raised an eyebrow and withdrew his blade, only to make me yell as he stabbed me right above the shoulder blade.

I was going to scream in pain, but my face betrayed my curiosity as to why I wasn’t feeling it. The sword was pinning me to the door by my shoulder blade, yes, but there was no feeling.

“I have gift with weapons. I stabbed between nerves. No pain,” The diamond dog explained expertly. “Boomer sent you? Asshole, he is. Dog can’t train alone these days. Bah, come pony, you’ve much to learn about blades.” He pulled the sword out of my shoulder blade and turned on his heel, walking back to the center of the too silently for something his size.

I’m four foot seven, and this guy was like half of me stacked atop myself.

“What’s your name?” My voice, like my face from earlier, betrayed my fear.

“Blade. I am blade and blade is me.” Blade explained while sitting down, making me raise an eyebrow before I rubbed at my sore shoulder.

“I’m...Stealth. It’s nice to meet you.”

“We begin training soon. Rest.” Blade commanded as if my previous sentence was irrelevant, but his voice was commanding enough to make me do what he said.

“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I thought in despair as I sat down and leaned against the metal door, the cold substance chilling me through my coat.

With all that’s happened today, it didn’t really surprise me when I fell unconscious quicker than I had expected myself to.