//-------------------------------------------------------// The Darker Side of Love -by Izzy G- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Part 1 //-------------------------------------------------------// Part 1 Ink Flash walked down the hallway of the hospital with her head held low, her mane covering her eyes. Her wings drooped. Her hoof-steps were uneven and shaky. She had no presence, no substance to her existence. She just seemed to be there, a ghost. Her world was falling apart around her and continued to do so. The floor had been ripped out from under her in the span of less than a few hours. Memories blurred through her mind as she numbly plopped herself on a bench in the hallway. The images were dizzying, confusing, as all the colors blended into one ugly shade of grey. This was her life now, and that was what it should have been. But it would never happen now. She would always be the apprentice, always be the weak one. Pain. Pain and shame in his eyes, that was all she remembered. The look in Silent Shadow's eyes had been unbearable when he apologized for not being able to finish her training. The weak sound of his normally confident voice had shot through her and left a burning hole which she thought, she knew, could never be filled again. Slipping during a lesson and Silent rushing forward to grab her hooves and pull her up before she fell. The smile he gave her when he knew she understood something. The soft hugs that she worked so hard for. That kiss that left such an empty feeling as he left her and walked into almost certain death, facing danger alone for her sake. Coming back on death's door, barely able to look at her. Screaming. His screaming. Tears. Rivers had flown from the midnight blue orbs that Ink thought she knew so well. Ink wrenched her eyes shut, trying to fight back the twisted images as tears pooled up in her own turquoise eyes, threatening to spill down her face at any moment. She felt so alone. So cold. So empty. She shook her head and hugged herself, doubling over and letting a miserable sob rip its way out of her chest. Doubt. Anger. Guilt. Why didn't I stop him? I could have. I could have made him stay with me. I could have stopped him....I... “Ink Flash!” she heard the doctor call from down the hall, his voice distant to her. But she had fallen into a haze, a fog. The world blurred away, the air neither warm nor cold. No pain. No fear. No regret. Nothing. Just nothing. It was better this way, better if she just let go and accepted that it all had happened. For a moment, she was alone. The smell of antiseptic was gone. The constant nagging and beeping of monitors was finally silenced. Silence. More tears hazed her vision. That word. That thought. Another sob ripped its way out of her chest, dragging itself up her throat and leaving ugly lines in its wake. The sound echoed down the hall, passing nurses pausing as if to ask her what was the matter then moving on once they thought better of it. She didn't want to be alone, though. Couldn't they all see that? Couldn't they see that was what was making her fall even deeper into the darker side of her that she had been fighting back for so long? But there was no reason to fight back the shadows anymore. She had lost everything she had hoped for, she had lost her reason for living and standing up each time she got knocked down. She had become a disappointment to Silent. She had become the one that brought him shame, a painful reminder of what should have, could have, been. She had become what she feared most: A regret. Urgent hoof-steps. A hoof on her shoulder, pulling her out of the shadows. She couldn't help but gasp as she shot upright, her eyes flying open suddenly as if bracing herself to fight. Her heart raced. She wasn't breathing, she was gasping and each desperate breath only dug deeper into her throat than the last. Ink finally realized that she was shaking. Her entire form was trembling with enough force that she could hear the clicking of her teeth coming together. For a second, she was shivering and then heat flooded through her, painting her face red the next. “Ink Flash,” Dr. Red Cross whispered gently although his red eyes were urgent and all business, “We need to talk about your master.” Falling. Farther and farther. Darkness. Ever deeper. Ever closer. Her eyes flittered shut and she fainted from the stress of it all, the doctor catching her with a patient sigh. He shook his head and just waited, knowing she would come back around in a few moments. And sure enough, Ink's eyes slowly opened a few minutes later. She looked around warily for a few seconds before realizing where she was. Violent shakes vibrated through her again. The fear in her eyes would have made any other pony doubt her assassin status. She looked so young, so frail. She looked completely unlike Ink Flash. Red Cross sighed and tried to keep his voice even but urgent, trying to meet Ink's eyes but finding it hard since she kept looking away out of fear. But fear of what? “Ink, this is serious. I know you're scared, but you have to stand up and be the assassin Silent knows you are.” Ink's eyes flew to his face and he smiled at the slight sparkle in her eyes, “There may be a way to save him, but we all have to talk about it, alright?” The glow that shone from somewhere deep within the shadows in her eyes made him smile. She nodded, the action definite. She was standing on shaky ground, he knew, and he began to realize that there was more to Ink Flash and her master than they were both letting on, or even aware of. He could see it in her eyes, the way he acted around her. The way she had crumbled the second guilt had consumed her. As she went to Silent's room ahead of him, he found himself wondering if they were aware of the way they acted around each other. He had to wonder if Ink had admitted to herself, that in one way or another, she most definitely loved Silent Shadow. He shook his head with a sad sigh as he followed her back to the room, stepping in and smiling slightly. Ink sat next to Silent's bed, holding one of his hooves in one of her own, and her other one being held by Digger. Ink's eyes immediately went to Red Cross as he walked in, worry darkening his eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. After taking a moment to gather his thoughts and delicately pick his wording, he spoke up softly, trying to be gentle. “There is...a problem that makes this all so much worse than I originally thought,” he winced inwardly as he caught the slight tensing of Ink's posture and way she tightened her grip on Silent's hoof in response. He sighed, “There may be a way to fix this, Ink, as I told you in the hallway,” he saw that she wanted to say something and he held up a hoof to tell her to wait. “It's a very rare flower called the Root Of Life that has powerful healing properties.” He paused for only a few seconds, smiling inwardly at the attention Ink was paying him. “And at this point, Ink...” he sighed sadly and lowered his head, “It's not just about him being an assassin...it's about his life.” He winced at the whimper that escaped Ink's throat as he continued quietly, “The anti-venom is now slowly eating away at him, and I do mean eating,” he sighed. “The flower, I'm sad to say, is the only was that...” he looked Ink in the eyes, face completely serious, trying to make her understand the weight of the situation, “your master will live, Ink Flash.” The world spun. She was lightheaded. She looked at the crumpled stallion in the bed, in the midnight eyes that used to glitter brightly out of thinly hidden pride. She could see his answer in his eyes and it only drove the dagger of guilt deeper into Ink: Don't worry about me, Ink. You have your own life to live. Ink shook her head in response to Silent and was still meeting his gaze when she nodded to Red Cross, her voice hardened with a steely resolve. “Tell me what I have to do.” Silent's eyes widened the smallest bit, “Ink...no.” Ink shook her head. “No. I'm going, Silent. Forgive me, but you have too much to live for as well. Don't give me the excuse that all that really needs to be taken care of is my training and DarkFire when less than an hour ago, that's all you were worried about. Me, and how you had “failed” me by not being able to finish my training.” Ink shook her head with a sigh, “Well none of that matters if you're not even alive. So, with your blessing or no, I'm going.” “While I'm sure he appreciates your tenacity, Ink...” Digger spoke up quietly, pulling his marefriend's gaze away from her master to him, “He has every right to be worried about you. Not that you're not capable...just...” Red Cross sighed, “It will be dangerous, Ink Flash, I'm not going to lie. You're going into the domain of the Gods to retrieve something that is protected from us mortals for a reason. There will be trials and you may die trying, as many have before. While I'm sure that you can handle traps and poisonous flowers even as only an apprentice, I do worry about your ability to combat immortals.” “I can-” “There's a difference between confidence and arrogance, Ink,” came the weak voice of Silent as he gripped her hoof weakly. “Don't mistake one for the other. You are an amazing assassin even at this level, but remember what happened last time you tried to go against a divine being?” Ink bristled, her voice growing cold. “I'm better than that now, Silent.” He sighed softly, shaking his head slightly and closing his eyes in defeat. “Your overconfidence will be your ruin one day, Ink. Mark my words.” In a small sign of defiance, Ink snorted in response to her master's remark, tossing her mane out of her eyes and removing her hoof from his weak grip. “I'm not letting you die,” she said in an even voice without looking at him, “You know me well enough to know that doesn't work with me.” Digger smiled softly, nuzzling her in reassurance even though she ignored him, looking to Red Cross for answers, “So there you have it. No matter what anypony says, I going. Besides,” her voice finally softened slightly as she held Digger's hoof with both of hers, “I won't be going alone.” Digger tensed. “What?! You can't be serious. I'm going too?” Ink nodded patiently, not hint of emotion on her face. “Well of course. Duh. I have no ability to read a map and while the doc has confidence in my ability to handle traps, I don't. Plus, power in numbers, right?” Red Cross smiled softly. Ink certainly was a guardian. Even when seemingly lost in the throws of despair brought on by her -he hesitated only slightly to use the word- love for her master, she paused to think about things from a rational side. He couldn't help but grin as he watched Digger and Ink go back and forth between each other, affectionately bickering over whether he should go or not. He had to admit, as he looked at Silent for a moment, catching his eye, that Silent had trained his apprentice well thus far. Or perhaps this was something that Ink was born with and the training had only brought it out of her. Perhaps she always was this cautious or that she had just learned to focus her abilities in a more constructive way than paranoia. Sighing, he looked back at the young couple and rolled his eyes. “Ink's right, Digger. It's better for her not to go alone. I would offer, but I have the hospital to look after.” With a defeated sigh, Digger nodded, looking at Ink with admiration in his coppery eyes. Of course she was right. She was taught to think about things from a rational perspective, even when in an emotional situation such as this one. But he did wonder, though, as Ink stole a glance at Silent, if there was more to them than she was letting on. He trusted her, though, and wouldn't question her. As long as she didn't act on whatever feelings there were between them, he didn't mind that she was so concerned about him. After all, he was her master. Her reason for fighting as hard as she did. But he wouldn't admit to anypony that he was partially jealous of the way that Ink looked at Silent or the way she would go out of her way just to see him crack a soft smile. It almost annoyed Digger, but he wouldn't say anything about it. They were close, and had been even before he and Ink had started dating, so he couldn't expect her to just drop any feelings she had for other stallions. But he would still wonder what was being said between the two in those moments when their eyes met for a bit longer than a second. And probably never would know. //-------------------------------------------------------// Part 2- The Bride of Death //-------------------------------------------------------// Part 2- The Bride of Death 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...”