Tuning Blade

The sun heralds another day for the city of Delamare. As the light cracks above the tops of buildings, the ponies and griffins of the fishing town wake early and go to their usual routines. Roosters sing their morning serenades as a chilly wind sweeps in from the Delamare river and into the streets.

For Octavia, the day had started hours earlier, when the sun was still far below the horizon. Such are the mornings for Assassin recruits in training.

As the sun continues its climb, Octavia gallops after Silent Wind on the rooftops of Delamare. Their hooves pat on the tiled roofs, the clinks and clattering pausing when they jump the gaps between each house and building.

Silent Wind stops on a flat-topped building, situated in the very center of the city. Octavia catches up just a moment later, the swaying of her white robes and red sash coming to a standstill after her sprinting.

“You’re getting quicker every day. Good work.” Silent Wind remarks, as she sits down to sift through her saddle bag.

Octavia nods earnestly. “I’m pleased that you think so. What’s the new lesson for today?”

Retrieving a coil of rope from her bag, Silent Wind tosses it to Octavia, who promptly gives a puzzled look.

“Tie that rope around my wings.”

Octavia thought to ask why exactly, but instead obeyed her instructor and began to tie the rope around Silent Wind’s torso and wings. During their many lessons, Silent Wind has always been one to teach by example. It can be easily guessed that Silent Wind’s lesson of the day will involve something rash.

Octavia tightly secured the rope with a knot easily reachable by Silent Wind’s teeth, should she need to remove it. The Master Assassin tests the rope evenly to ensure its security, then moves to examine the streets below. She returns to Octavia.

“Follow my lead.”

Silent Wind gains a galloping start and leaps off of the edge of the rooftop, scattering the resting birds perched there as she falls with a graceful form into the street below.

Octavia runs in disbelief to peer down over the edge. Several stories down, she sees Silent Wind jump out of a large stack of hay.
The Master Assassin looks up to Octavia and points to the haystack.

“Are you mad?!?” Octavia bellows.

Silent Wind points to the haystack again.

“What if I miss?!?”

Silent Wind pulls off the rope around her torso, showing her wings and putting her hooves forward in a catching gesture.

“Wonderful. Now it’s only slightly less terrifying.” Octavia whispers with a roll of her eyes.

Mustering her courage, Octavia places herself at the very fringe of the rooftop. She heightens her posture while balancing on the edge, the scope of the cityscape revolving around her. The distant sound of an eagle’s cry envelopes the air in a soft echo.

With a bracing look on her face, Octavia leaps off of the roof, trying her best to mimic Silent Wind’s form through the air. Despite her flip turning awkward and her legs flailing wildly, Octavia safely lands in the haystack. She tumbles out of the bale, removing twines of hay from her mane as she approaches Silent Wind. The Assassin bears an approving look.

“You’re first Leap of Faith. Not bad. It will feel more natural as you get used to it.”

“That was dreadful. Will we have to do that often?”

“Depends. If you need to get a good look of the area around you, finding the tallest peak and climbing to the top gives you a view of everything. The quickest way down is a Leap of Faith. Just make sure there is something soft to land on before you decide to jump. Keep an eye out for birds too. They like to gather around potential spots.”

Octavia understands, even if she doesn’t like the idea one bit. She never imagined she would have ‘falling from terrifying heights’ added to her resume of new skills.

Silent Wind picks up the rope and begins to trot back to the building.

“Come. Practice makes perfect.”

Octavia often despised having to climb back up to the rooftops over and over again. Though she appreciates Silent Wind for climbing with her and not using her wings to simply fly up to the top, which added to her ‘show don’t tell’ form of teaching. This makes her fit in easily in the group of wise and respectable teachers Octavia has had.

A few moments later, they reach the top of the building. Silent Wind looks to Octavia.

“Alright. Let’s try again.”

The day makes its way into evening. Octavia’s daily training continues, and after spending most of the day practicing the art of the Leap of Faith, Silent Wind takes Octavia back to the Den, to start the evening combat training.

Situated next door to the Den Armory, the training floor has several combat rings spread out for usage. Several Assassins occupy the rings, making good use of the time to train. Both recruits and veterans spar against one another, honing their skills with a whole host of weapons. Silent Wind and Octavia pick one of the empty rings at the far corner of the room, cautiously navigating around the edges of the other rings on their way over.

“How has your blade been lately?” asks Silent Wind as they reach the ring, catching Octavia in the middle of a stretch.

“Reasonable. Though I have been meaning to ask for some assistance on its maintenance. It’s been a tad sluggish.” Octavia replies, lifting her foreleg and turning it up to reveal the hidden blade beneath her bracer.

Silent Wind retrieves a small toolbox from the nearby shelves, opening it and taking a specialized screw driver in her teeth. She holds Octavia’s leg up with one hoof as she exposes the delicate mechanisms of the blade and begins to tweak it.

Octavia always marvels at the structure of the hidden blade. The complexity and operation of such a small device is incredible, and its many variants are no less stunning. Octavia’s hidden blade is a standard model, one that is gifted to new recruits upon their induction.

Until Octavia completes her training and achieves the official rank of Assassin, she is not permitted to use any other variant of the hidden blade, though she is still tutored on their make and usage. She has learned the compositions of Hook Blades made by the Coltstantinople Brotherhood, Phantom Blades created by the Brotherhood of Prance, and several others. She has even learned from Silent Wind on the use of two hidden blades at once, which is in most cases a right reserved only for the most proven Assassins.

Silent Wind finishes with Octavia’s hidden blade, placing her tools aside and stepping back.

“Try it now.”

Octavia gives a flick of her hoof. In a flash, her blade shoots out, its silvery metal giving a small sheen. The blade feels much more responsive, and as Octavia flicks again to return the blade to the bracer, she smiles.

“Yes, that’s much better. Thank you.”

“You’ll need to test it,” Silent Wind reminds her as she makes her way to several supply containers hugging the nearby wall.

She returns with a target dummy made of straw and cloth, and places it before Octavia.

“Show me what you remember. You’re approaching your target from the front. Go ahead.”

Octavia hesitates, staring at the dummy with unsure eyes.

Her training in the past few months has been difficult, yes, but she has always managed to perform to the best of her ability. Be it free-running, climbing, sneaking, blending, and Leaps of Faith, as of late.

But what seems like the simplest task is the most difficult for Octavia.

Eliminate the target.

Assassinate the target.

Stab the target…

Kill the target…

Octavia breathes calmly and slowly, regaining her focus with a quick shake of her head.

It is just a straw dummy. It can’t feel pain.

Approaching the dummy, Octavia quickly thrusts her hidden blade squarely into the dummy’s chest, piercing the cloth skin and rustling the straw inside. She withdraws the blade, looking to Silent Wind.

“Good. Now approach from behind.”

Circling around the dummy like a predator to unsuspecting prey, Octavia approaches it again, this time from behind. Using the techniques she has learned, Octavia steps down on the dummy’s back, pushing it to the floor. Her blade punctures the back of the dummy’s neck, completing the kill.

“Good. Now from the side, with a running start.”

Octavia trots to the very edge of the ring, looking perpendicular to the dummy. In a burst of speed, she gallops forward and tackles the target with her blade primed, impaling the side of the dummy’s neck and rolling off in a graceful fashion.

Silent Wind nods approvingly.

“Looks like it works. Well done, Octavia.”

“Anything else you’d have me do before we move on?” Octavia asks, brushing her robes as she gets up from her roll. She’d much rather do anything else.

“Nothing else for tonight. The Mentor has a special assignment for you. I suggest you see her now, in the lounge. She’ll give you the details.”

Octavia bows graciously to Silent Wind before leaving the training floor and making her way to the Den lounge. Possibilities of what Mirage’s ‘special assignment’ could be flutter about in Octavia’s thoughts along the way. Hopefully it would be something more serious than going out to get more tea or that game of ‘tag every griffin in the Den’ she was given last time.

Just as she approaches the door way to the lounge, Octavia bumps into a familiar green pegasus, who was just on his way out. He beams upon seeing her.

“Octavia! Good to see you this evening. How was your training today?” says Pledge with enthusiasm, gently hugging Octavia with a fore hoof.

Octavia returns his affection in kind, smiling, “It is good to see you too, Pledge. My training today was interesting and productive. I leapt off of a building several times, with nothing but a stack of hay to save me from certain death each time. Quite the… riveting experience.”

“I remember learning the Leap of Faith. A traditional art and useful technique. Though, really only useful if you don’t have wings!” Pledge chuckles.

“Yes, yes, laugh if you will. Though speaking of wings, how has your recovery been?”

In a fitting display, Pledge stretches out his newly healed wing. His green feathers rustle as they fan out.

“My wing is back to its beautiful self, thank you for asking! The mare who field dressed it back in Vanhoover did a fine job.”

Octavia smirks playfully, placing a hoof to her chest. “Well, I’m glad she did. Because I’m fairly certain that mare would not want to wrap another wing anytime soon.”

“Hey, I have been very cautious with it lately, for your information!” Pledge replies, returning an equally spirited smirk, “Though I think I’ve kept you for too long. Mirage is waiting for you inside. I’ll see you later!”

“Thank you, Pledge. Until next time!”

Bidding Pledge goodbye, Octavia enters the lounge and approaches Mirage. The Mentor sips from a cup of tea as she lies upon the cozy couch, enjoying the lit fireplace. Octavia makes her presence known, sitting beside her.

“Good evening, Octavia. I’m glad to be able to speak with you. I have some news.”

Octavia bows her head in acknowledgement, meeting Mirage eye-to-eye.

“Silent Wind has spoken very highly of your progress as a recruit. I discussed the matter with her and several other senior Assassins, and I’ve come to the decision to assign you your first official mission as your next step in your training.”

Surprised, Octavia shuffled nervously on her cushion. Knowing Mirage, it is rare to hear that soft undertone of seriousness in her normally jolly voice.

Despite her flying thoughts, Octavia remains attentive. “I’m honored to have been put in such high esteem, Mentor. What is this assignment you wish me to complete?”

“We’ve gained recent information on the whereabouts of a Templar cache hidden underneath the city. While normally I would send one Assassin to investigate, I’ve decided to send you and another recruit in training instead. You will be paired up with the other recruit, and starting tomorrow night, you will find this Templar cache and eliminate its contents. Sounds like fun, right?” Mirage ends with a wide grin, her tone suddenly returning to its regular jovialness.

Octavia nods, “Very well. I’ll prepare myself for the mission.”

“Make sure you do! And be sure to remember all you’ve learned thus far. You’ll need all of your skills and wit out in the field, as I’m sure Silent Wind has told you about a thousand times by now,” Says Mirage, winking, “Go to the East Riverside docks at nine p.m. tomorrow night. You and your assigned partner will rendezvous with a contact there, who will give you additional info for the mission. Understood?”

“Yes, Mentor.”

“Mmm!” Mirage stops mid sip of her tea, quickly swallowing, “One last thing. You need to teach me how to make tea like you do. Mine always comes out short. I don’t know why, but I can never make good earl grey.”

Octavia smiles at her Mentor’s silliness, abiding by her request and following her to the lounge’s supply of tea. She could use a cup of tea herself after all of her work today. Though now with the thought of her first actual mission assigned to her, Octavia can’t shake off her anxious feelings.

Being in the field means she’ll have to kill.

Following an enjoyable evening spent with the Mentor, which included drinking tea and playing an intense game of chess, Octavia arrives in the Den Library. The lantern in her mouth swings daintily as she descends the stairwell and illuminates her surroundings. The library itself is barely lit, with a few wall-mounted candles lighting only the doorways. At this time in the late night hours, many of the Assassins are either asleep, on night watch, or out completing missions. There is not a soul in sight.

Initially, Octavia had tried to get some sleep for the night, but could not stay still. Her worries and fears of the future would not leave her be. She spent an hour or so reading more of her father’s letters, and they gave her a temporary comfort. But she simply could not keep her eyes closed, and hence decided to try and find something to read in the expansive library of the Den. Something that could hopefully provide her with insight on how to become a better Assassin. Or even better, how to overcome a fear of killing, as brutal as it sounds.

Octavia brings her hazy lantern to one of the many large bookshelves, casting its light on the rows of texts. After eyeing several sections, she spots the one book of interest; a large, worn text, with the Assassin symbol etched on the front. The book looks quite familiar.
As Octavia pulls out the book and places it neatly on the carpeted floor, setting her lantern beside it, she realizes that she has indeed seen, and used, this book before. This was the heavy text she hurled at the unfortunate and internally-confused mare standing guard, during Mirage’s ‘challenge’. Luckily she didn’t feel bad about it, as shortly after her days beginning as a recruit, she had made amends with the cherry-coated mare, who admitted that she got a good laugh from it when she had woken. Octavia chuckles softly at the thought of it herself.

Getting comfortable on the carpet, Octavia opens her book, sifting through the pages with her nose. The book itself has no title, but on the beginning pages it lists the contents within; A collection of memoirs written by Assassins of the past, from almost every era of Equestria, and of the world beyond. There are accounts from Assassins who lived during the reign of King Sombra, and a few are even from the time before the Princesses, during the tribal era. So much untold history is preserved in books like these, and the amount of stories astounds Octavia as she continues skimming through the pages.

…creak…

Octavia’s ears twitch at the bending of wooden boards emanating from somewhere in the library. Normally one would expect someone to be walking along the floorboards, but the Den was mostly made of stone. The only things in the library made of wood are the bookshelves.

Octavia directs her gaze above the wooden bookshelves around her, squinting in an attempt to make out anything visible in the eerie darkness that surrounds the light of her lantern. She began to get the unsettling feeling of being watched…

“…Hi there!”

The hidden voice comes from the closest bookshelf to Octavia’s right, the same bookshelf she acquired her text from. Octavia squints at the source of the voice, and loosely takes sight of a pony resting on the very top. Her outline is barely visible from her position, with only her eyes standing out. They glow a deep pink, and along with their cat-like pupils, have a mesmerizing feel to them.

“Uhm….Hello? Who are you?” Octavia questions.

The mysterious pony swoops down from the shelf, landing softly beside Octavia as she holds a hoof to her page to keep it from turning. As she enters the light, it is clear that the pony in question is not a pony at all, but a noctral.

The noctral mare has a dark grey coat of fur, and a dark blue mane. True to most bat ponies, she has tufts of fur jutting from the tips of her ears, and a pair of fangs in her toothy grin. Her Assassin robes are similar to Octavia’s, consisting of the common white cloth and red sash, though she has two holes cut specifically for her leathery bat wings.

“I noticed you coming into the library earlier, and I waved hello to you, but you didn’t wave back. Do you have bad vision?” she says, cocking her head in curiosity.

Octavia gives a confused look.

“No… The library was so dark that I could only see what I put my lantern to. I thought I was completely alone.”

“But… can’t you see in the dark?”

The question itself is a silly one to Octavia, but as she realizes the sincerity in the noctral mare’s tone, she understands her confusion.

“I can’t see in the dark because I’m not a noctral. I’m an earth pony.”

“Oh. That’s weird. I knew you weren’t a noctral, I just didn’t know that you couldn’t see in the dark. I thought everyone could.”

The bat-pony plops herself down on her haunches. She remains quite eccentric, true to her nocturnal nature.

“I’m Cotton Rose! What’s your name?”

“My name is Octavia. It is a pleasure to meet you, Cotton Rose.” Says Octavia, extending her hoof to the noctral.

Cotton Rose’s eyes light up as she shakes Octavia’s hoof.

“I love your accent! You sound so regal and classy! Where are you from?”

“Thank you kindly. Many of my relatives are from Canterlot and Trottingham, but I grew up in a smaller town called Ponyville.”

“Ohh I’m from a small town too! It’s called Anthe, and it’s really far north in Umbra, my home country. I’ve spent most of my life there, so I’m not very used to how things are here in Equestria.”

For a noctral this talkative, Octavia is surprised she has never seen her before. “Are you a recent recruit?”

“Kinda. I’ve done most of my training in Umbra, but I’ve been moved here with my teacher recently. Almost done with my first whole year of training!”

“I see. You’re already farther than I am in terms of training. I only began a few months ago.” Octavia replies. She already feels a connection with this curious mare.

“Well in terms of time in Equestria, then we are equal! Plus we are both still only recruits. We’ve got a lot more to learn!”

“True.” Octavia nods, noticing the noctral’s cat-like eyes wander closer.

“So what are you reading?” Cotton Rose scooches over to Octavia’s side, peering into the pages of the book.

“Just a few stories on some of the Assassins of old. I’m… quite interested in the Brotherhood’s history.”

“Ohhh me too! I love reading tales of Assassins from history. The ones about the pirate Assassin, Jackdaw, are some of my favorites. Though I don’t think any story could compete with Master Assassin Eagle Listener’s tales. It’s amazing how he was able to accomplish so much in so many places, like in Roam and Coltstantinople. They say he had assassinated the most targets of any other Assassin. ”

“Impressive…” Octavia mutters, finding the marked section on Eagle Listener’s history. It is one of the larger sections of the entire text.

As she skims through the beginning of the section, she finds several paragraphs detailing Eagle Listener’s origins. He was a stallion, a young noble whose father was an Assassin unbeknownst to him and most of his family. Sadly, his father and brothers were murdered by Templars. He sought revenge not soon after, which lead him to join the Assassins.

As much as she would love to learn more about this, Octavia figures it would be better for another time. Her avoidance of sleep is beginning to catch up to her as she is ambushed by a large yawn.

Octavia closes the memoir book, “I think I’ll be turning in for the night. I’ve been up for too long as it is.”

“Oh right. You day-lighters need your sleep! Maybe we can talk again sometime?” says Cotton Rose, hopping to her hooves as Octavia returns the memoir book to its proper shelf.

“I’m sure we will meet again. Good night, Cotton Rose.”

“Goodnight, Octavia!” Cotton Rose replies, mimicking Octavia’s accent in a playful and admiring manner.

Octavia smiles at her before exiting the library with her lantern, making her way to the sleeping chambers.

Entering through the wooden door, Octavia carefully makes her way to her bunk, so not to disturb the other recruits sleeping. She removes her barding, robes, and sash, placing them neatly within the drawer beneath her bed.

Octavia pauses to look at her hidden blade.

The stubborn fear she held of actually using her hidden blade is mind boggling, and yet so simple. It’s definitely hard to adjust to killing and death, as Pledge once said when giving Octavia some advice.

But she must adjust. Just as Eagle Listener did.

Octavia regains some confidence, reflecting on what she had read on Eagle Listener. There is much in common between them.

They both lost family to the Templars.

And just as Eagle Listener did in his time, Octavia seeks revenge.

Octavia holds her hidden blade and its bracer closer, her forehead touching the top of the gauntlet.

… I will become an Assassin… And I will find my father’s killer… No matter how long it takes.

As the night takes its hold, Octavia arrives at the meeting point at the East Riverside docks. The night sky is dotted with dark blue clouds, which occasionally block the dim light from the moon above. Very few boats are still about on the river, and even fewer ponies are out, aside from the occasional guard. It bears a serene peacefulness.

Only a moment later, Octavia is joined by her mission partner, who swoops down from a nearby roof.

The mare lands a few paces in front of Octavia.

“Hello.” Says Octavia, bearing a small smile.

“Good evening! I’m…. Oh my gosh! Is that you, Octavia??”

Octavia recognizes the familiar voice to be Cotton Rose’s, and she’s proven correct as the noctral mare lowers her hood to reveal her ever-present exuberance.

Octavia lowers her hood as well. “Cotton Rose! What a wonderful surprise! What are the odds of us being paired together?”

“I know, right? This is gonna be great!” says Cotton Rose with a giddy face. Though she quickly composes herself as another winged figure joins them.

A male griffin moves past Octavia and Cotton Rose, toting a bag full of various nets and fishing line, as well as a dim lantern. The seemingly oblivious fishing-griffin sits down on the edge of the dock, unfurling his line.

“How many griffins did you tag?” the griffin asks himself.

Octavia and Cotton Rose keep their eyes on one another, as Octavia replies.

“Twenty four.”

“Ah, swell.”

The griffin keeps his gaze locked on the dark river waters. Octavia and Cotton Rose face away, though twitch their ears in his direction.

“The cache is located in the sewers here on the east side. You’ll find an unguarded entrance just south of these docks, on one of the beaches. It’s your best bet inside. Be wary of the guards. Most of them are in the tunnels.”

“Thank you, friend!” Cotton Rose says casually, winking to Octavia.

“You’re welcome. Nothing is true…”

“…Everything is permitted.” Octavia finishes.

“Good luck.” The griffin says, continuing his fishing.

Departing from the docks and donning their hoods, Octavia and Cotton Rose make their way down south to the East Central district, picking up a speedy trot as they cross the jetties lining the river. The low-lying wooden piers and idle boats make it easy to free-gallop their way through, sliding under wide railings and hopping across empty fishing boats. Octavia traverses wooden fences and narrow boards with defined balance, as Cotton Rose climbs over crates and shacks, utilizing her bat-like wings to glide over longer jumps.

Within a minute’s time, they arrive within sight of the sewer entrance, on the sandy beach lining the edge of the massive stone walls which serve as the East side’s flood barriers.

Octavia turns to her companion, “Are you ready, Cotton Rose?”

“I am! How should we take this on?”

Octavia places a hoof to her lips to think, and quickly comes up with an idea.

“No doubt the sewers will be dimly lit, and we might have to go through unlit sections to sneak around guards. I think it would be best if you take the lead, Cotton Rose. With your night vision, you can guide us easily through the sewers. I’ll cover you from the rear.”

“Alright, sounds like a plan! Let’s go!”

As Octavia and Cotton Rose trot along the sand, they hug the side of the stone wall, encroaching upon several archways which display an opening. The opening contains a drainage, which in turn leads to the underground sewers. The oval entrance is damp and drenched, its stone bricks covered in lichens and moss. Dripping water echoes from within.

Cotton Rose moves in front, scanning the sewer walls and cautiously moving forward, with Octavia right on her tail. The sewers are completely pitch black to Octavia. She began contemplating whether or not to grab onto Cotton Rose’s tail so she wouldn’t lose her. Luckily, she manages to keep up as Cotton Rose continues, the dark not impeding her whatsoever. After all, the night is to a noctral as the day is to a pony.

Proceeding deeper into the wet sewers, the two happen upon a large, square shaped room. They enter in on the second level, walking on a wooden platform with a ladder leading down. Three more sewer pathways lie on the bottom level, lit dimly by a few torches.

Cotton Rose stops and peeks down at the level below, moving back a step to face Octavia.

“There are two guards below. No other way to go but down. Want me to take them?” She whispers.

Octavia voices her concern for Cotton Rose going it alone, “Both of them at the same time? Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“It might be easier for me to jump down and take them out. I can see them crystal clear.” Cotton Rose assures.

Octavia, confident in her partner, gives her the go ahead.

Moving back to the edge of the wooden platform, Cotton Rose leaps off with her wings spread.

Her silent descent lasts for but a second as Cotton Rose lands right in between the idle guards, the hidden blade on her left hoof already finding its mark in the left guard. In a flash, she pulls out the blade and turns right, piercing the light armor of the other guard and felling him.

Octavia leaps down, landing in a small puddle as Cotton Rose mutters to herself.

“I’m sorry. Rest in peace, friend.”

She places the bodies of the guards respectably on the nearby stone floor. Though treating the dead with honor is a crucial tenant for an Assassin, Octavia feels much better knowing Cotton Rose takes to it with her own sincerity. She seems to handle killing easily.

With the room now clear, they scan the surrounding new pathways. Other torches line one of the passages, showing more recent signs of guard activity. The other two passages are sealed off with heavy metal bars, though one is slightly open at the bottom, with possibly enough room to go underneath.

“That passage straight ahead is empty and clear on the other side. Come on!”

With a galloping start, Cotton Rose dives into a slide hind-legs first, clearing the bars without issue.

Octavia, hoping to not get too wet, follows suit, sliding quickly underneath. She shakes her mane and robes, throwing off drops of dirty water.

The current passage winds into a snake-like pattern, but eventually comes to an end in a much larger chamber of the sewers. Within the large chamber, a group of ponies and griffins, entirely made up of guards, haul carts and crates of huge sums of equipment. Though there are stacks of weapons, most of the supplies consist of excavation tools.

Octavia and Cotton Rose remain hidden in the dark corner of the sewer passage, though open their ears in attentiveness to listen in. A mare in the center of the room converses with a stallion leading the guard detachment. The mare appears to be of some nobility.

“Have the supplies been catalogued yet?”

“Yes ma’am,” replies the stallion, clad in the dull armor of the Delamare guards, “The provisions will be in place to aid in the search for the chambers, and we just received the shipment of dragon powder. The surveyors are still looking for its location, but they say it shouldn’t take long for them to find.”

Dragon powder? Octavia thought, Only Templar wealth could afford something so costly.

The noble mare nods, her royal-looking garb abstaining from any contact with its surroundings. “Excellent. Keep me updated on your progress, captain. I expect a report soon.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The mare in charge departs from the large chamber with an escort of other ponies, vanishing into one of the other lit entrance tunnels. The guard captain stays only to give orders to a subordinate, before leaving through an opposite exit.

Octavia carefully examines the room. Her eyes lock on to one large cart, filled with stacks of barrels with red markings. Explosive material warnings, to be precise.

Mapping out a path in her mind, Octavia turns to Cotton Rose, pointing at her objective.

“That trolley, at the back end and to the left. That contains the powder the guard was speaking of. We can use it to impair their excavation, and destroy all of the equipment as well.”

Cotton Rose nods, approving.

“Ok. I’ll see what I can do to take out some of the guards. I’ll keep their eyes off you so you can set up the barrels.”

“Thank you.”

Octavia and Cotton Rose split up, using the boxes and carts as cover as they lurk around. Cotton Rose immediately gets to work, silently pulling a guard pony from around a corner and dispatching her.

Moving swiftly, Octavia sneaks around boxes and slides over others, being careful of her surroundings. Though as she peek over around another corner, she nearly comes face to face with another guard, a griffin this time. The female griffin stops for a rest, standing with perfect sight over Octavia’s hiding spot.

The shattering crack of a glass bottle catches the griffin’s attention. She perks up and draws a short sword, moving away to investigate the source. Octavia silently slips by, just as Cotton Rose claims another kill.

Octavia makes it to the cart. Wanting to make sure the explosion covers the entire chamber, Octavia cuts the ropes holding the barrels secure with her hidden blade, carefully letting three barrels slide to the floor.

Using one leg to push them, Octavia rolls the barrels into different nooks and corners among the crates, ensuring the explosion will engulf the entirety of the room.

Just as she returns to the powder cart, she eyes her means of detonation; a torch from the wall. Octavia moves to grasp it, but is stopped in her tracks by an alarming voice.

“You there! Stop!”

Two ponies of the guard make their way straight towards Octavia, intent on bringing their swords down upon her.

By instinct, Octavia freezes in a combat position. In mind and thought, however, she flinches.

No, stay away, I don’t want to-

Suddenly, Cotton Rose swoops in from the side, tackling one guard pony to the ground and striking the other with her hidden blade, finishing them in an impressive double assassination.

“Are the barrels set?”

Octavia snaps out of it, kicking the cart and spilling the remainder of the powder barrels. Upon stabbing a hole through one of the barrels, Octavia urges Cotton Rose to follow after grabbing the torch from the wall.

Backing into one of the tunnel exits, Octavia turns to her partner.

“Start going through the tunnel once I say so. I’ll be right behind you.”

Cotton Rose briskly nods, setting herself up for a quick sprint as Octavia readies the torch.

“Now!!”

She lobs the torch just as Cotton Rose darts off through the tunnel. Octavia flips around and gallops as fast as she can, following Cotton Rose by only a few spaces behind. Luckily this tunnel has its own lighting, making it much easier for Octavia to find her way.

An echoing rumble reaches her hooves, mimicking the growl of a waking dragon. Already her ears can hear the spreading of flames from behind, as the chamber is incinerated.

The two Assassins dash through the tunnel, leaping over boxes and sliding underneath work benches. They quickly happen upon a dark and steep stairwell, to which Cotton Rose glides up with her wings. Octavia follows closely.

Cotton Rose bursts open through a pair of wooden doors at the. Octavia stops just behind her, noticing that the exit has brought them to a small alley way. The heavy smell of fish hangs in the air around them, particularly from the garbage crates full of fish bones. The alley must be close to some of the nearby fisheries.

As the tremors from the explosion subside, Octavia and Cotton Rose exit the alley and back on to the streets. The Den isn’t far from their current position, as they are still close to the river.

The two catch their breath before laughing.

“We did it. We completed our first mission!” Cotton Rose announces, albeit in an indoor speaking voice. While the street may be empty now, it is always important to be discreet.

“Yes… We did. Phew… Mission accomplished. And it seems we were able to get some intelligence as well.” Octavia replies, thinking back to the noble mare which they eavesdropped upon.

“What do you think that was about earlier? About an excavation?”

“I’m not sure… But we should inform Mirage. She’ll know how to best make sense of it.”

Just as they arrived, Octavia and Cotton Rose disappear, heading back home to the Den.

The debriefing with Mirage was, as Octavia expected, well received. The Mentor was more than impressed with both Octavia and Cotton Rose’s performance, and the intelligence collected about a Templar excavation plan is incredibly valuable.

With a witty send off and jolly praise, Mirage dismissed the two recruits, gifting them some time off for their good work. They decide to spend their time on the highest point of the Den; a large stone tower overlooking the adjacent Delamare River. It is mostly used as a lookout position, and as a place to practice Leaps of Faith into the river.

The two sit lie down on the stone tower's edge, overlooking the river below. Octavia crosses her hooves as she turns to her noctral friend.

“How do you fare in the daytime, Cotton Rose? Does the sun hurt your eyes?”

“It depends on the kind of day. If it’s cloudy then it isn’t so bad and I can see alright. But if it’s really sunny, then I need to use shades or a visor to protect my eyes. I keep an eye on the pegasi weather schedule so I’ll know which days will be too sunny,” Cotton Rose explains, adjusting her seat on the cool stone of the tower lookout, “What about regular ponies? How hard is it to see in the dark?”

“Well, we can’t quite see at all actually, but it also depends on how thick the darkness is. If the moon is out and bright then it isn’t so hard to see, but it is near impossible to see in pitch black spaces without a light nearby. Needless to say, I’m more than thankful I had you as a partner. If it wasn’t for you, I would have certainly gotten lost in those sewers.”

Cotton Rose grins, taking in Octavia’s compliments. “I’m just glad you were the one calling the shots. I’m not very good with giving orders. It’s all about teamwork, right?”

“Indeed.”

Octavia thinks of other topics to bring up as they enjoy the cool night air.

“How did you come to join the Assassins, Cotton Rose?”

“Oh…Well….”

Cotton Rose falls silent, staring down at her hooves. From the grimace on her face, it didn’t seem as though she was hiding some dark secret, but more along the lines of trying to avoid bad memories.

Octavia decides against pressing the matter.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks… I’m sorry… maybe some other time.”

Octavia rubs her hoof, looking down. Another question stirs in her thoughts.

“Have you ever heard of an Assassin called Morendo Stradivarius?”

Cotton Rose places a hoof to her lip.

“Hmmm… I think so. Oh! He was the Master Assassin who infiltrated the Templars, right? He’s legendary, from what I hear. Wasn’t he killed a decade or so ago?”

Octavia nods, “Yes, he was. He is actually the reason why I joined with the Assassins. He was my father.”

Cotton Rose’s ears shoot up, quickly followed by her hooves covering her mouth.

“You’re Moren-… Ohh… I’m so sorry, Octavia. I’m really, really sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Cotton Rose, no need-“

The bat pony flings her hooves onto Octavia, meeting her eyes with urgency.

“No it’s not alright! He was your dad! And he… Oh gosh, I’m sorry…”

In a flash, Octavia finds herself enveloped in a close embrace. Cotton Rose sheds a few tears in the midst of their hug as Octavia hugs her back with surprise.

“Thank you Cotton Rose, but this isn’t necessary. I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Was it hard?”

“Well, I… Never knew him until recently. He had left my mother shortly after I was born. But as I learned more about him, I discovered that he left to protect us, to keep us away from any danger. After knowing that, I… It was definitely hard. I wish I could have been able to talk to him.”

Cotton Rose pulls away, already more tears sliding down her cheeks.

“…Now I’m getting all emotional…”

“Cotton Rose, please, it’s alright.” Octavia assures insistently. Having another mare show this much empathy to her is something Octavia has rarely experienced.

“I know, it’s just sad. Things like this make me get mad at myself.”

Octavia cocks her head. “Why is that?”

“Because here I am crying for your dead father, and only a few hours ago I killed six guards. I mean I had to kill them, they were working for Templars, but… It just makes me feel stupid.” Says Cotton Rose, wiping away her remaining tears in between her words.

“Then how do you do it? How are you able to kill?”

“Because I’m an Assassin. I mean, that’s why we are called Assassin’s in the first place, right? We kill to further our goals. But we aren’t mindless killers. Just like our creed says; ‘Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.’ This is our way of protecting the free will of the world.

Personally though, I don’t like fighting. If we have to kill, then I’ll do it in the quickest, cleanest, and most respectable way possible.”

Octavia nods, taking in her words. Straightforward and simple. Perhaps that is the best way to look at it all. Assassins are murderers in a sense, but they don’t kill for the sake of killing. It is strategic and precise assassination. To protect freedom and disrupt the Templar’s plans, all while in the dark.

After all, as the Assassin saying goes;

We work in the dark, to serve the light.

Octavia looks to Cotton Rose, who is beginning to calm down.

“Do you play any instruments, Cotton Rose?”

She chuckles. “Instruments? Oh gosh. Not really. My mom gave me a little drum set when I was a filly. Never new how to read music or anything, I just banged on them.”

“Well, how would you feel about learning? I could tutor you. Before the Assassins I was… well, still am, a professional cellist. Perhaps I could take you down to the Den’s music room sometime. I can teach you how to read music.”

A smile finds its way on to Cotton Rose’s lips. Her pink eyes light up in fascination.

“Wow, that would be great! I didn’t know you were a musician. Well, I guess with your cutie mark it would be kinda obvious but that’s so cool! I always liked the drums, and it would be great to be able to play them again. What’s the cello like?...”

As Cotton Rose continues to ramble on in glee, Octavia can’t help but feel… good. Her very first mission was a resounding success. She had gained much experience.

Though perhaps the best result was that Octavia had gained a friend