The Darker Side of Love

Ink tumbled out of a portal disoriented, falling head over hooves and getting tangled in her wings as well as her cloak. Beside her, Digger fell out in a similar way, the strap of his satchel getting tangled in his legs as well. With a groan, Ink slowly untangled herself, pulling in her wings and gently unwrapping her cloak from around her limbs. She paused as she looked over the slightly tattered piece of fabric, worried tears hazing her vision.

“He'll be fine, Ink,” Digger nuzzled her gently, voice soft. “You can do this. If anypony can, you can.”

As the circle of faint light they had appeared from gradually vanished into nothing, she nodded and got to her hooves, shaking her head. Digger smiled and reached into his satchel, pulling out a map and looking over it for a moment before glancing over at Ink with a reassuring smile. Ink sighed, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath.

Looking in Sil's eyes as he walked off that night.

Seeing them again, two mornings later.

Empty.

Cold.

De-

Ink shook her head, fighting off the fear that was tugging at her. She wouldn't be a failure. She refused to be one. She had looked Silent Shadow in the eyes and promised she would be back with a way to fix him. There was no room for error. Everything had to go off without a hitch. She had seventy- no, now sixty-eight- hours until the damage done to Silent's organs was irreversible and he died from multiple system failure. Even being an alicorn, Red Cross wouldn't be able to save Silent once it got that bad due to him having condensed his magic into vials of some kind of potion for Ink and Digger.

Everything rested on them.

She nodded to herself, more reassuring than anything. “Alright, map-keeper,” she glanced at Digger with a soft smile, “Which way are we going?”

He looked at the terrain around them for a moment before glancing back down at the map Red Cross had given them before sending them through the portal. “North,” he mumbled, looking around once again before nodding. His voice was more definite when he spoke again, “Yeah, north.”

Ink nodded, trying to keep her anxiety out of her voice but hearing it come out shaky anyway. “Well then, come on.” She tried to think of everything except Silent as they walked, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him.

Dark blue eyes that usually glowed with pride.

The now frail stallion that looked back at her.

Shame in his eyes, darkening them.

Tears.

She sighed and shook her head as tears started to haze her vision, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

The path up the mountain was rough. Loose rocks made the footing uneven and there were several times Digger would misstep and Ink would have to catch him, or even vice versa. Ink preferred jumping from perch to perch on boulders, but even then it grew too risky for her to enjoy practicing her parkour when the boulders began to shift under her hooves. Or maybe it was just her nervousness that was making her stumble so much. Maybe it was the constant ticking of her internal clock. She sighed and jumped down from a larger rock, landing heavily as a cloud of dust flared up around her hooves.

As Ink drew in a deep breath, she noticed the air suddenly had an almost sickeningly sweet smell to it. As took a deeper breath, the smell grew so thick that the particles lightly coated her tongue. It was sweeter than honey, but airy like cotton candy. Delightful. Simple. It was the purest scent ever, at least compared to what she had been smelling earlier that week.

“That's odd...” she mused as she straightened out her cloak again, tossing her mane out of her eyes and looking around cautiously.

“What's wrong, Ink?”

She shook her head, “Don't you smell that?”

Just as Digger was about to ask what she meant, a sudden gust of wind rushed past them. Ink squeaked with surprise, her mane ripped from behind her ears and roughly tossed about. She glanced up the path a little ways, squinting against the dust in the air, and saw the temple just a little bit ahead. A soft glow emanated from it, seeming so calm as compared to what Red Cross said it would be.

“So traps and poisonous plants?” Digger laughed, “That's all in a day's work for me.”

Red Cross shook his head, mane wet from a shower and falling in his face. “You will have to fight not just Demeter, but her family as well. And especially expect Persephone. Her daughter won't take kindly to her you two treading on her mother's territory.”

“So why is the temple so special?” Ink asked, not looking away from Silent. She needed the whole story, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from him. It was as if she thought he would die if her gaze left his.

“It is the only place the flower still grows,” Red Cross sighed sadly. “We ponies believe that the gods do not still live among us, but they do. Demeter felt threatened, so she pulled back to her temple and so did the flowers. The only growth is an altar within the temple. But be warned, it won't be as easy as it seems.”

Even though she knew she should have kept her thoughts to herself, Ink had muttered, “Anything for Silent...”

Worry had darkened his eyes as she uttered those words.

Ink sighed and shook her head, turning her attention back to the present time. As the wind died down, the form of a mare slowly materialized within the swirls of dirt. Slowly, her crimson body formed from nothing and long, graceful legs took shape. Slim chest and torso. A lean neck and one of the most beautiful faces Ink had ever seen. She easily stood at Red Cross' height, an easy foot or two taller than her. She had a long and glorious red mane that rippled in the breeze. From what Ink could tell, she was a unicorn.

As soon as she was solid, a torrent of rocks tumbled down the side of the mountain. Don't think, just act, Silent's voice echoed in Ink's mind, sounding patient as it always was. She instantly switched mindsets, dodging the rocks that grew ever larger and looking for a place to hide.

“Ink!” Digger called from an outcropping on the other side of the path, looking winded.

Timing her dash just right, she sprinted across the path and joined him as several smaller rocks managed to nick her. She almost collapsed into the small space next to him, but forced herself to stay composed. Instead, she drew one of the crimson throwing knives from her bandoleer and glanced out the entrance to their hiding space.

“There has to be a pattern to this...” she muttered to herself, carefully watching the way the boulder's tumbled down the mountainside.

As she watched, she noticed there was indeed a pattern. Albeit it was subtle, but it was just enough. She nodded, reassuring herself it would be enough of a gap that she could manage.

“Alright,” she spoke up quietly, puling back into the outcropping. “There seems to be a pattern here. And it gives me just enough of an opening to throw a knife. Maybe that'll provide enough distraction for me to get closer.”

Digger nodded, reaching in his satchel and pulling out a small dagger. “Be careful, Ink. I'll see if I can get around her.”

Just as Ink threw the blade in the goddess' direction, Digger hurried up the path. As soon as she saw him, she focused the rain of boulders on Digger. Ink bit her lip and and drew one of the enchanted strike knives Red Cross had given her. Hope these work like you say they do, doc... Knife held tightly between her teeth, Ink ran up the opposite of the path, being careful to keep out of eyesight until just close enough that she could throw the knife. She aimed for the goddess' flank, hoping to stun and leave Digger enough room to finish the job.

As intended, the blade embedded itself in the mare's soft flesh and she let out a scream. She stumbled for a moment, knocked off balance, and the stream of boulders calmed some. Ink quickly drew her dagger, holding it tightly between her teeth, and ran at the goddess. Running alongside her, Ink's blade faithfully carved a deep line in the goddess' side, and almost ghost-like blood poured from the wound. Even though obviously injured, there was no blood on the ground though. No pooling of gore. No sign that the mare that now turned to face Ink with something like a roar of rage was even real.

Just as Persephone scooped another boulder, much larger than the others, and threatened to drop it on Ink, Digger ran up and drove his dagger into the goddess' neck, severing her spinal cord. For a moment, she stumbled and then fell backwards off the cliff. The rock tumbled after her, and as her body finally hit the bottom of the peak, the boulder fell on top of her crumpled form with a sickening crunch. Ink winced as the sound echoed in the air, but looked over the edge to see the goddess' form vanish into a red mist and the bride of Death was no more.

Ink breathed a heavy sigh of relief, wiping her dagger off on her cloak before slipping it back in its holster. “Wonder if Sil's ever fought a goddess...”

“Knowing him,” Digger laughed nervously, panting, “he probably has.”

Ink smiled softly, finally catching her own breath “You're probably right. You alright, Dig?”

Digger smiled nervously, but nodded as he continued to calm his breathing down, “I haven't run that fast in awhile. Are you okay?”

Ink nodded. “For now,” she went in search of her crimson throwing knife and found it embedded in a rock face. After coaxing it from the rock, she slipped it back into place on her bandoleer. Something like relief washed over her that she didn't lose that blade.

It could have been called an idiotic notion that she wanted to keep the full set of twelve knives, but they meant a lot to her. They had been a gift from a good friend, and forged by the pony she treasured most. They were valuable not just in the sense that they were custom made for her, but that there was so much care and effort put into them. And besides, she specialized in killing with small blades. She wasn't good at bare-hoofed combat yet, so her throwing knives were her best skill as an Assassin.

Above all else: Silent forged the set for her.

She sighed and shook her head, once again forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. “I'd hate to see what else was in store...”