Pledge leaned against the window. A grin was stuck on his face.

“The stay at the hospital wasn’t bad, thanks for asking! Oohh those nurses. There were two patching me up, though only one stayed with me in case I needed anything. Her name was Glimmer, I think. Goodness was she stunning. She was gracious enough to listen to my compliments on her mane. I was almost concerned with how sneaky she was with those needles, though. She would make a good Assassin. Even more so when she gave me that suspicious look after hearing my ‘I’m part of the local volunteer guard and accidentally shot myself’ story.”

Pledge lets loose a warm chuckle as Octavia listens, sitting across from him inside the train car. The party of three caught a particularly crowded departure. Their current train car is filled with ponies heading for Delamare. Some are talkative to their fellow passengers, while others try to catch a snooze while the ride remains smooth.

“Speaking of your treatment, what was the diagnosis? Will you be alright?” asks Octavia, placing her hooves on her seat.

“According to the doctors, I’ll be fine, but they stressed that I shouldn’t exert myself for a good month or so. So right now, I can’t do much aside from limp and hobble on the ground,” Pledge turns his head, peering over the back of his seat, “Silent Wind will hopefully pick an easy route through the city.”

Octavia leans out into the walkway, taking sight of the black hooded Assassin beyond the train car door, along with the conductor. The muffled sound of their conversation is barely audible, though Octavia can easily guess what it’s about, seeing Silent Wind pull out a purse of bits and place it onto the conductor’s hoof.

The cellist scooches back into her seat, returning her gaze to Pledge. He fumbles with his hood, deciding to keep it off for now.

“I’m curious, Pledge. What, exactly, is the plan when we arrive in Delamare? Somehow I doubt that it’s going to be straightforward.”

“Your doubts are correct! Let me tell you a bit about Delamare. It’s an old fishing town, spread out along the river, but not very current with other cities. We have a large presence in the city, but there are Templars as well. We won’t be able to just walk right through. Like back in Trottingham, we will be cautious. Side-stepping main paths, taking alleys, you know.”

Despite Pledge’s explaining, Octavia feels utterly in the dark. The pegasus catches on to her confusion.

“There will be guards in the city. They probably won’t pay us much attention, but to be safe we will avoid them.”

Octavia nods, understanding now. At least, as much as she can. Her only association with Assassins is that her father was one of them, and that he trusted them enough to ask his daughter to work with them. For now, she can trust Pledge. That’s all she needs until they reach the Mentor. Then, hopefully, more answers will come her way.

Her thoughts are halted as the train slows, pulling into the open station. Silent Wind arrives back at their seats, taking the spot beside Pledge as the other passengers disembark.

“Wait. We will be exiting last.”

The three ponies remain seated until the entire train is empty of passengers. With their car vacant, they exit their seats as the train conductor approaches them. Octavia makes sure not to forget the saddlebag with her father’s documents.

“That’s that. Now, if you’ll follow me please.” Says the conductor stallion, rubbing his moustache as he trots past them and to the opposite end of the car. Pledge gives Octavia a bright smile as he lifts his marble-white hood over his mane.

Reaching the caboose, the conductor unlatches the exit door, pushing it open. Silent Wind flaps her wings and hops off, turning to lend Pledge a hoof as he comes down.

Octavia looks towards the conductor as she nears the edge of the door. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh no, miss. Thank you! And your friends.” The conductor replies humbly, his newly acquired pouch of bits jingling.

The conductor closes the door behind him as Octavia follows Pledge and Silent Wind along the edge of the train tracks, which leads to a service entrance to the station. They navigate the few corridors in the station’s basement level before taking a damp stairwell up and outside, arriving in a separate building entirely.

Upon exiting the new building, they become surrounded by apple trees, part of the local apple orchard on the outskirts of Delamare. Weaving through the trees, the three enter into the city as the grassy fields meld into dirt and then into wood and stone.

True to Pledge’s description of the town, Delamare carries a scented air filled with the smells of river water, wet wood, and fish. Harbor bells ring out across the city, as gusts of wind brush against the roofs of the wooden and stone buildings. Many small marketplaces dot the corners along dirt-paved streets.

Octavia notices that this town is made up of more than just ponies. Griffins, of all kinds of sizes and plumages, make themselves busy across the town, standing at the markets, flying overhead, and doing everything from building boats to painting picturesque images of the urban landscape. Octavia had never seen so many griffins before in one place.

The cellist takes in the sights, walking slightly ahead of Pledge.

“You’re walking a bit fast for me, Octavia.”

She snaps out of her wonderment to return to Pledge’s side, apologizing. “I’m sorry. This kind of environment is very new to me.”

“It’s alright. Just don’t want you to get too far ahead of me. As much as I’m still able to walk, it’s…ugghh… Kinda hard.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer it if I carried you again?” asks Octavia teasingly.

Pledge snickers, waving a hoof. “Oh no, no thanks. You’ve carried me enough. The ride was smooth, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want to burden you anymore than I have to.”

“It’s alright, Pledge, there’s no need to be modest. We both know that I’m able to carry you very easily.”

“No, thank you, Octavia. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Pledge gives her a ‘seriously?’ look. Octavia giggles.

“Well alright. But if you ever need any help…”

“I’ll know which earth pony to ask. Thanks.”

Octavia casts her eyes once again at the city-scape surrounding her, though she keeps careful mind to stay close to Pledge. However, she catches a poster in the corner of her eye, plastered on the stone wall of a carpenter’s shop. She stops dead in her tracks.

Pledge takes notice of her idleness. “Octavia? What is it?”

Silent Wind, now a few paces ahead of them, turns as well to investigate. The two Assassins flank Octavia as she stares at the portrait-sized poster.

MISSING:

OCTAVIA STRADIVARIUS

Earth Pony Mare, Grey Coat, Black Mane and Tail, Violet Eyes, Cutie Mark of a Treble Cleft.

Disappeared in the city of Vanhoover some 2 days ago. If seen or heard of, please notify any local authority to her whereabouts or status. Thank you.

Following the ink-pressed text is an actual picture of Octavia, one of her performance at the Grand Galloping Gala nearly a year ago. She’s gracefully holding her bow and cello. Behind all of her startled thoughts, a little pony in her head tells her how much she already misses her cello.

Not a second later, Silent Wind tears off the poster, stamping it into the ground. “Any one of the passengers from the train could have already reported seeing you. We need to move.”

“But…. But how did this get here so quickly?”

“Templars have eyes and ears everywhere. They’ve most likely spread these notices in other cities as well. We did technically kidnap you, remember?” states Pledge.

Silent Wind wastes no time in leading them further into the city, taking them off of their current route and into the back alleys to avoid being seen as much as possible.

Even in the lesser streets, however, there is opposition. A patrol of city guards, five in total, appear at the crossway between alleys a few yards ahead. The leading mare’s voice is carried along the walls of the closed alleys.

“Fan out, keep your eyes open! She could be anywhere in these corridors. You!” The guard swiftly turns to a red earth pony emerging from her front door. The guard shoves a poster in her face, causing her to fall back against the closed door.

“Have you seen this pony?”

“N-n-no, I haven’t!”

“If you catch sight of her or hear anything about her, let the city guard know. Let’s keep moving!”

The leading guard leaves the poster in the red pony’s hooves as she motions her troop forward, disappearing from sight as they continue down another alley.

Silent Wind faces Pledge and Octavia after waiting a moment for the troop of guards to fade out of earshot.

“If we keep going like this, they’ll spot us before we get anywhere close to the Den.”

The black-hooded Assassin looks at the rooftops above.

“Pledge, lead Octavia to the Den. I’ll be with you again shortly.” The pegasus lifts off onto a higher ledge above the alley, and swiftly climbs up and onto the rooftops.

“Where is she going?” Octavia asks worriedly.

Pledge re-assures her. “She’ll be watching from above. In case we get into trouble. Come on. Let’s get moving. We should be roughly half-way to the Den now.”

Continuing at their regular pace, Octavia and Pledge navigate the alleys, steadily traversing the fishing town. Luckily they encounter very few ponies and griffins along the way, and those they do pay them no attention.

As they pass another crossway, Octavia and Pledge come to sudden stop as the same troop of guards from before appears from behind.

“There she is, Captain!!”

“YOU TWO! HALT!”

Pledge’s eyes dart to Octavia.

“Octavia.”

“Y-yes?”

“…Carry me.”

“After them!! Don’t let them escape!”

With Pledge on her back hanging on for dear life, Octavia breaks into a full gallop, darting down the alleys in the market-crowded town. She leaps and bounds over fish carts, wooden stands, and even over some passing townsfolk. The guards pursue in a different fashion, pushing over the carts and stands and shoving the innocent bystanders out of the way.

“LEFT!!!”

Pledge hollers. Octavia hops into a skid, sliding on her hooves to make the turn around the corner faster. Although carrying Pledge is indeed easy, thanks to his pegasus frame, running with him hanging on is a different story. Still, Octavia determinately keeps up a speedy gallop.

“Now right!”

Octavia turns as sharply as she can around the next corner, almost colliding with a griffin carrying a box of fish. The guards are close behind, tackling the poor griffin out of the way and trampling his spilled fish with their armored hooves. Octavia doesn’t look back, keeping up her dash as much as she can. Moments later, the two arrive in the center of a much wider area, which branches into several more alleys, all in a different direction.

“Ok. Now go to your left, down… Aw crap.”

Pledge cuts himself short as another troop of guards suddenly appears from the other alleys. The pursuing guards catch up and link up with their other comrades, surrounding Octavia and Pledge.

“You’re surrounded! Come quietly, or we will use force!”

Octavia holds her ground, though looks at the slowly encroaching guards with hesitant eyes. Pledge looks concerned for but a mere moment, before he notices the rooftops and tugs at Octavia’s ear to look up.

Looking to the rooftops, Octavia catches the falling blur of the black robes and red mane of Silent Wind as she crashes down on top of the two unfortunate guards closest to her. The Assassin’s dual blades flawlessly find their targets as her hind hooves hit the ground. Without hesitation, she lunges at the surrounding guards, her hidden blades meeting the steel of their swords and spears.

Silent Wind dances on her hooves, spinning in graceful arcs to dodge the swings of her opponents and to land quick strikes of her own. Octavia is both utterly amazed and terribly frightened at the skill and speed of the pegasus, who has already taken down a fifth guard with a forceful kick of her hind hoof, sending him tumbling into a scaffolding.

Pledge tugs again, this time at Octavia’s neck in an effort to grab her attention. “Octavia, she’s buying us time!! Let’s go!!”

Octavia regains her momentum and bolts into the direction Pledge points out, entering another alleyway as Silent Wind remains in battle.

“Will she be ok?”

“I’m more worried about the guards. Keep heading straight, we’re almost there.” Pledge replies coolly.

Octavia continues down the alley as it gradually widens into a dirt street. Hearing no guards from behind, she slows to a manageable trot, catching a few breaths while she can.

A random guard appears from around the nearby bend, standing directly ahead of Octavia. “Freeze! Stay where-“

The guard is suddenly pulled into a lump of hay resting quietly beside where he was once standing. Octavia blinks her eyes as she continues onward. Pledge lets out a chuckle.

“Yep. We’re definitely close now.”

With the chase over, and the distant echoes of guard ponies fading further and further away, Octavia finally stops for a much needed breather, letting Pledge off of her back and onto the dirt pavement. He stands beside Octavia, extending his good wing around her as he helps her along. They approach a large warehouse-like structure right alongside the Delamare River.

“Whew….hah… I have not had a workout like that… since high school…. Phew.” Octavia pants furiously.

“High school, huh? Did you run track?” Pledge ponders.

“No… Marching band…”

Sharing a grin with Pledge, Octavia steadies her breath. Though her hooves hurt and her back aches, Octavia regains her composure and trots with Pledge to enter the warehouse, using a subtle door connected to the street.

This place is certainly deceiving on the outside, Octavia thought as she and Pledge walk in, closing the door behind them. The interior of the building is lined with beige stonework and red and white banners hanging from the ceiling and walls. Large windows high on the walls allow light to pass through the clean air, bathing the floor in patches of yellow. The symbol of the Assassins appears elaborately adorned on the banners surrounding them.

From what Octavia could determine, this room was the main hall of the Assassins’ Den. Several Assassins toiled about, some hooded and fully garbed and some without any robes whatsoever. Though the vast majority of their robes were white with red sashes, some of the robes had different colors. Some wore grey or black, others green or blue.

What Octavia notices most particularly, however, is the diversity of the Den. There were all kinds of ponies; unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies alike. There were many griffins, along with a few rare bat ponies, who were shrouded in their hoods to accommodate for the daytime hours. There was also a zebra among them. Never had Octavia seen so many different kinds of people before, let alone seeing them act friendly to one another.

Pledge stretches his legs. “Ahhh… Home sweet home.”

Making their way past the main hall, Octavia and Pledge traverse the Den. They pass by many more rooms, among them a library and an extensive armory, as well as sleeping quarters and a workshop. Many Assassins are busy training or crafting weapons, while others enjoy a peaceful nap or browse through the library. Octavia does take note of how quiet it actually is in the Assassins hideout. It wouldn’t be hard at all to focus on working, or to find time to have a good long rest.

Much to her excitement, Octavia catches sight of a music room not too far from the library. A part of her longs to enter and forage through the music that the Assassins possess, and maybe even find a cello she could play for a bit. She placed those thoughts away for now though. The papers shuffling in her saddlebag reminded her of her priorities.

Soon, Octavia and Pledge arrive in a large planning room, fully adorned with white banners. There is a large wooden table in the center, completely covered with maps, ledgers, lists, ink and quills. An intricate chandelier hangs daintily on a long chain above.

“… tore down posters where I could, and bribed a few officials to lower the notoriety. She won’t stand out anymore.”

“Well done, Silent Wind. And speaking of said pony…”

The grey-robed Assassin before them turns around, a smile forming on her snout as she sees Pledge and Octavia. Silent Wind nods to them both. Despite having battled with more than six guards, she had beat Pledge and Octavia to the Den. Then again, Octavia was carrying Pledge and had to slow down a lot after exhausting herself. Octavia is impressed with Silent Wind nonetheless, as she seems relatively unscathed from the conflict before, aside from a small scratch on her cheek.

Octavia directed her attention to the other pony. Behind her grey hood and robes is a blue-coated mare, with a pearl white mane and mahogany eyes. She smiles almost with a youthful radiance, though the few wrinkles that Octavia can notice dictate her true age.

“Welcome, Octavia. We’re very happy to see you here. And you too, Pledge.”

“Thank you, Mentor.” Pledge smiles and graciously nods.

“You’d better be taking care of yourself. Can’t have you getting into any trouble while you recover. Relax a bit.” She smirks as Pledge gives off a chuckle. He carefully found a spot to sit beside her.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll be doing my best to sit still for the next month.”

“Good,” The Mentor smiles, re-directing her jovial gaze towards Octavia, “I am Mirage, the Mentor of the Delamare Assassins.”

Octavia bows her head respectfully. Though she isn’t familiar with how the Assassins work culturally, she figures that the leader of an organization like this holds a high rank.

“It is an honor to meet you.”

“It’s an honor to meet you as well. Now, before we say anything else, there is a reason why you’re here. Your father’s research, yes?”

Mirage cut to the chase faster than Octavia had hoped, but she earnestly complied, unstrapping her saddlebag. Mirage takes the bag, briefly peeking in on its contents before placing it neatly on the table behind her. She expresses a satisfied look.

“Thank you for bringing Morendo’s findings to us, Octavia. We are thankful that you came along when you did.” Mirage states, pulling her hood down to let out her pearl mane as she places a hoof on Octavia, “And let me express my official condolences on the death of your father. It’s a shame that you had to learn of his fate as you did.”

Octavia solemnly nods, watching as Mirage turns to the center of the planning room.

“Now that our business is done… You’re free to go.”

“… Excuse me?”

Octavia raises her brow to the Mentor in surprise. Pledge expresses an utter look of shock, while Silent Wind remains silent as ever.

The Mentor gives Octavia a folded train ticket.

“I’ll have my Assassins give you an escort out. You can find your way to the train from there.” Mirage assures plainly, as two Assassins appear from the shadows to flank Octavia.

“Mentor!?” Pledge moves beside her, “What are you doing? She’s Morendo’s daughter! We found her and brought her here only to send her away??”

“I’m well aware of that, Pledge. My decision has been made.”

Mirage’s tone becomes deathly serious. She approaches the confused and dumbstruck Octavia.

“Go home. You were never here, nor did you see any of the things you saw. I don’t want to see you in my Den. The Templars had the intention of recruiting you. I, however, have no such intention. Off you go.” She waves a hoof outwards.

“I…But…”

“Come with us.”

The two Assassins beside Octavia move closer. Octavia, failing to come to further words, hangs her head in defeat as she complies and follows her escort. She turns a glance back at the planning room, spotting the Mentor exiting through another door behind her, followed closely by Silent Wind and a persistent Pledge, who hobbles furiously to keep up with the Mentor. He mouths some sort of complaint against his leader’s actions, but Octavia is too far away to hear.

Soon, Octavia and her escort exit out of an ordinary door leading into a vacant alley. The light of sunset slides down the walls of the buildings around them. A moment later the Assassins return inside the Den, closing the door behind them, leaving Octavia out in the empty street.

The forlorn cellist takes a seat by the door, plopping down on the cool dirt of the ground. She doesn’t care much for getting dirt on her. She is too caught up in the recent events to care. Octavia felt left in the dark, unable to make sense of the ponies she has been dealing with. She fell back to her thoughts.

This…This surely isn’t it. Is it? My father told me to bring his work here. Or, that’s what he had hoped I would do. Would he want me to just leave?

Octavia pauses for a moment to unfold the train ticket. To her surprise, it’s not a ticket at all, but a plainly written note.

To Morendo’s daughter.

Tag me.

Octavia gives the paper a quizzical look, but then inquisitively turns to the door behind her. She nudges it slightly, twitching at the creak of the hinges as it slides open. The Assassins hadn’t locked it on their way back in. They hadn’t even closed it completely.

Octavia looks at the note once more. Gaining determination and gathering her strength, she cautiously re-enters the Den, accepting Mirage’s challenge. Though she wasn’t sure why she was doing this, she felt as though she didn’t need a reason. Octavia wasn’t about to give up on this journey.

Re-imagining the layout of the Den, Octavia proceeds inside, retracing the path back to the planning room. She takes carefully placed steps, doing her best to mitigate the clop of her hooves against the hard floor.

In the following room, Octavia creeps through the door, glancing inside to see an Assassin sitting on her right, reading a book. Octavia jumps slightly, pulling herself out of the room. She breathes slowly, and spies a large pile of cloth to hide in until she finds a way around the Assassin.

Rolling awkwardly though the door, Octavia swiftly digs her way into the pile of cloth, planning her next step. However, her ears twitch as another pony enters the room, moving to the Assassin reading. Octavia peeks through the fabric shrouding her to watch.

“Blueberry, ‘ave you seen zee Mentor? Zee carrier pigeon came in with a message from Arrow’s Creek.”

“Huh? Uhm… I… Oh! Oh, yes. I saw her. But NOT in the planning room. She went to the lounge, which is through that door, down the hall. Go through the third door on your left, into the library, and then go to the opposite door and to the right. Down that hall at the very end is the lounge. Where the Mentor is. Staying… There.”

The standing Assassin frowns.

“… I know where zee lounge is, you moron.”

“Uh. Yes. Yes you do. I was just reminding you. Now I’m going to read.”

“Ughh.”

The annoyed Assassin turns to go through the indicated door, as the other continues his reading. Octavia cocks her head at the odd conversation, but was thankful for it as she was able to memorize the directions the Assassin had inadvertently given her. Being a musician helps with retaining memory, and Octavia is more than thankful for her skill given the circumstances. Though she surmises she would have to learn how to be more stealthy as she almost trips while sneaking past the reading Assassin and through the other door.

To her luck, Octavia found the hallway vacant, and so she hastily made her way to the third door on the left, which lead to the library that she and Pledge had passed before. Octavia decided to be more cautious with the door, peeking in slightly to get a good look around. She spies two more Assassins standing in the center of the library. Once again, Octavia sees a good hiding spot behind some of the smaller bookshelves to the right, and dives for them.

The sneaky cellist scooches slowly along the frame of the shelves. The Assassins on the other side, a zebra stallion and a cherry-coated mare, begin conversing.

“So…What are we doing again?” The mare pipes up in a cute voice. Her zebra companion nickers slightly.

“We’re guarding. Keeping an eye out for that new pony… Octavia, I think her name is.”

Octavia froze as her name reaches her ears. A look of worry crosses her face as she continues to eavesdrop.

“Oh, right. Is she going to come through the library?”

“She’s in the room right now. She came in only a minute ago.”

What?? But…He was looking in the complete opposite direction! Octavia thought, her body beginning to shake slightly as she grew more and more nervous.

“Really? Then why aren’t we trying to find her?”

“Because we don’t know she’s here.” Replies the zebra, leaving the library and a contemplating mare.

“What? But you said… Ohhh. Ok. I get it now… So this is what its like to be a guard.”

The cute mare turns, taking position right in the doorway that Octavia needs to get through. Octavia, now slightly more assured yet still confused at the whole context of this mission, skirts to the very edge of her cover, placing her only a few feet away from the Assassin mare in the doorway. Octavia can only think of one way to get past.

“Ok. She’s not in this room. As far as I can tell. But that’s because I’m not actually looking around. Maybe I should search the room. But I don’t know she’s here, so why would I? Well, being curious is natural, right? No, no, no, then I’d be going against the purpose of being here. Which is to… guard… books? Hrrmmm.

“Alright. Here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to stand here, and have the intention to be curious and look around, but I won’t because I don’t care, and I’ve suddenly become half-blind. Yup. That sounds good.”

Octavia, deciding the time right, heaves a large encyclopedia as hard as she can over the edge of her cover, hoping for the Assassin to investigate.

“What- Oof!”

Thud

Octavia pops out of her cover and places a hoof to her muzzle. She had thrown the heavy book right into the back of the mare’s head, knocking her out cold.

She tip-toes up to the unconscious Assassin, whispering an apology as she carefully steps over her and through the door.

Finally, Octavia reaches her destination. Falling on her tactic of peering past the door, Octavia surveys the lounge. It is a fairly large living space, blanketed with rugs of vibrant designs as well as cushioned seats. There is an ornate and impressive fireplace against the wall, its firewood burning with a welcoming glow.

Facing the fireplace is Octavia’s target; Mirage, who is resting on a fluffy cushion. Flanking her are Pledge and Silent Wind, who are currently engaged in a conversation with their Mentor. Pledge looks concerned, giving the Mentor disapproving looks. Silent Wind is as emotionless as ever, which is normal, supposedly.

Octavia listens in while creeping off to the left, planning to surprise the Mentor.

“I still don’t like how you’re doing this, Mentor. This ‘test’ feels like a bit much.” Says Pledge, being as polite as possible while gently rubbing his bandaged side.

“I have my methods, Pledge. Maybe it is a bit unnecessary, but I have utmost confidence that Octavia will no doubt succeed.”

Octavia creeps forward, placing her hoof daintily on the floor. As she does, she notices the faintest twitch in Mirage’s ear. The cellist pauses for a moment, and then steps once more. And once again, Mirage’s ear flicks to the side. Frustrated, Octavia puts another hoof on the floor, which is followed yet again by the Mentor’s ears swiveling.

Octavia catches on that Mirage most likely knows that she’s in the room, and exactly where she is, for that matter. If the zebra Assassin from the library knew she was there the moment she came through the door, then surely the Mentor of the Assassins knew as well. She suspects that Silent Wind knows too, though Pledge may not as he is still expressing his discontent, focusing on Mirage.

She’s stuck. Octavia can’t sneak up on Mirage slowly or from any direction. So she decides to do the least expected thing.

Tensing her muscles, Octavia plants her hooves firmly on the floor and then springs forward, launching herself directly into Mirage’s back. Pledge and Silent Wind look in surprise as Mirage and Octavia go tumbling into a pile of fluffy cushions.

“Whoah!” Pledge whinnies

“It looks like she succeeded.” Silent Wind mutters as she get to her hooves and aids the two ponies as they clamor out of the cushion pile.

With a plain look on her face, Mirage gazes at Octavia. Octavia returns the gaze stalwartly, not paying any mind to the mess her mane has become or to her crooked bow tie. The two stare down for a few seconds, before Mirage’s lips break into a wide grin.

“…Congratulations, Octavia. You’ve passed my friendship test!” The Mentor hugs Octavia playfully, leaving her with a bewildered face.

“How… does doing everything that I just did… Equate to us being friends?”

“You’ve proven yourself to me. In a way that only you could have done. You truly are Morendo’s daughter. I knew that the instant I looked at you, of course, but it helps to make sure, right?”

Octavia still looks confused.

“Hmm. I supposed I’ll have to explain it a bit more. And to answer your questions. Have yourself a seat! I’ll get us some tea.”

As the late evening approaches, Octavia, Pledge and Mirage enjoy the warmth of the fireplace and the softness of the cushions. Silent Wind had gone off to some other part of the Den, but not before complimenting Octavia on her performance during the ‘test’. Octavia didn’t know how to take the feedback, but as she converses with Mirage now, she begins to understand.

“…That’s really the only reason I decided to test you like that. I wanted to see what you would do with a situation randomly placed on your hooves. I have got to say, I’m really happy that you didn’t give up after I sent you away. Plus, you had forgotten to take your letters with you.” States Mirage. She pulls up Octavia’s saddlebag from earlier in the day and returns it to her. Inside are all of Morendo’s letters, though the research has been removed.

Octavia had indeed forgotten, but is more than thankful to have them back. Now that she thinks about it, it feels like she is being reunited with a lost part of herself.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t read any of them. All we needed was the research. Those letters are no doubt important to you, and I would never violate the privacy of one of my closest friends.”

Octavia raises her eyebrow. “Thank you very much, Mirage, but… maybe you're taking our friendship too fast. We only just met today.”

The Mentor blinks rapidly, but then comprehends. “Huh? Oh! I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking about our friendship. I was talking about your dad. Morendo.”

“You were friends with my father?”

“The best of friends! I knew him when we were both starting out as Assassins. We trained together. I spent a lot of my time with him, until he infiltrated the Templars, of course. Then not so much. But we had some really fun adventures back in the day…”

Mirage trails off, her eyes glued to her tea.

“When he died, it… it was tough. Missed him ever since that day. But now… It feels like he’s back. And I have you to thank for that.”

Mirage gives Octavia a very heartfelt smile, before turning to Pledge.

“I’m more than thankful that we were able to steal you from the Templars.”

Pledge nods earnestly, winking at Octavia. She reflects a bit on Mirage’s words.

“… What is the difference between you two? The Templars and the Assassins. You’re mortal enemies, from how you talk about each other. But why?”

Mirage crosses her forelegs as she re-adjusts her seating.

“The truth is, we aren’t so different. The Templars have told you their intentions. Peace through order, right? Well, the Assassins seek the same goal; Peace. But the difference is our methods. The Templars use the word ‘order’. What it really means to them is control. They think that the only way to attain peace in the world is by controlling everything, and everyone.”

Pledge cuts in, garnering Octavia’s attention. “The Assassins seek peace through freedom. We believe that the world should be able to keep its free will. Everyone should be able to live their own lives. And one day, peace will come.”

Octavia ponders this. “Equestria has been peaceful for millennia. Why treat it like something so out of reach?”

“That is true, and that peace is thanks to the Princesses. They are one factor that can’t be controlled by Templars, or us. But the other kingdoms that surround us; The Griffin Kingdoms, the Changelings, the Zebra nations, among others, don’t know the same peace. They have civil war and other conflicts much more often, and it’s this turmoil and unrest which makes peace for everyone something to strive for.”

Seeing the logic in her words, Octavia nods. The final lingering thought in her head comes out.

“What… what would my father say if I became an Assassin?”

Mirage looks at Octavia, and gives her a motherly smile.

“To be honest, I don’t know. Morendo kept his personal life extremely hidden, and we didn’t even know you existed until your performances in Canterlot not too long ago.”

Octavia nods a bit disappointingly. Mirage continues to smirk at her.

“I think you know the answer to that question. After all, you’re the one who knows him the most.”

Mirage gestures to Morendo’s letters lying in the saddlebag. Octavia gently pulls the bag closer and hugs it against her chest, closing her eyes. She lets all of her senses die down, focusing on her memories. Trottingham, Vanhoover, Delamare. The one image she returns to is Morendo’s home. His study. His books. All of the memories turn to a vision of a reality that could have been true. Octavia, as a young filly, listening to her father read her books from the shelves of his home. On music, craftsmanship, and so many other things. Laughing and hugging, as a father and daughter should do. But there were no such memories. And there is no such home, without a father to be there.

“It’s your choice. What will you choose?” asks Mirage.

Octavia opens her eyes.

“I owe my father everything. And… It’s time that I properly return the favor.”

Author's Note

Yay! Another chapter complete. I'm having a lot of fun with this.

Thank you for reading! =]