Swordstorm Book I: Scrimmage

Prologue

"Find more flesh, Kapral." The Master said, "You know what to do."

"As commanded," he had replied, "Master."

With those orders, he obeys his master. A sabrathanian such as himself, could not possibly disobey the will of his master. Kapral had to stay within shadow if he is to complete his mission. The master had a dark swirling vortex behind him, that would lead him to another world. He approached carefully, one misstep could be disastrous. He reached his hand out into the dark vortex. He had felt a short, strong tug as he stuck his hand in. His body was pulled into the vortex vehemently, pulling him in as a man would a fish.

Inside the vortex, its cylindrical walls swirled black and dark purple. It was dark magic; a practice many sabrathanians must learn. Unfortunately, the only records of dark magic were found in runes, and it was only for this spell: portal creation. Normally they would go into Equestria, but not this time. This portal was charted for a different world. A world vastly different from Equestria, and his own. He hadn't traveled to this world at all, but he knew better than to fail his master.

He was getting closer to the end of it. He could see a hole expanding at the end of the portal. The hole had been black as night, meaning it was not daylight. Which was good. Night was his time of day. Night was every sabrathanian's time of day. The expanding hole had gotten within arms reach now.

There it is. he said to himself, as he exited.

The world here was different now. A world of strange looking houses close together. "The suburbs." The Master called it. A strange word for a strange place. He thought it fitting. The ground he stood upon was covered in blades of grass. For a long time, he always walked upon stone and sand. Beyond the grass, were white stone paths, and a wide black road. The Master called the white paths "sidewalks". There was a "sidewalk", and more grass on the other side of the road.

Staying in the shadows was the easy part. There were dark silhouettes from some of the houses. However, invading a house here could be a challenge, but a worthy one. The hard part was getting in without notice. It would be likely if anyone were to catch him breaking in, he would fail. He must be quiet and swift if he is succeed, for if not: his life will be given to Sabrathan himself. Kapral had worn a black hooded cloak with a mantle, to be sure he was not to be seen in the dark of night.

He knew nothing about this place. The suburbs were not easily navigable; every block looked the same as the last. His light armor underneath his cloak, chaffed his skin the more he walked. But he did not complain. For it should not be too long, before he finally finds the address The Master gave him. Even as his impatience grows, he dared not complain aloud.

"2907 Clear Springs" was the address The Master told him.

Every complex he passed, was indistinct, which made his mission longer then it should. The owners' vehicles, along with whatever other personal items lay scattered along the pathway, were among the only things that made each house distinguishable. One had rather unusual still creatures that gleamed in the moonlight, and did not respond to his movement, for which he was thankful for. Some had children's toys in the grass, as if a carefree child just discarded them without notice.

He found a vehicle with a blue and gold banner on it, which had "CHS Wondercolts" on it. The house's address was 2785, though. He can tell by the numbers, he was getting closer. Very close.

Anytime a strange creature strolls along the sidewalk, he rushes; quiet as a shadow and out of sight. Lamp posts made things even harder for Kapral, to appear in the light, would expose him.

Stay in the shadows, Kapral he told himself, This is a greater challenge than I anticipated. But it shan't be too long.

Eventually he finally found exactly what he was looking for... 2907, in metallic numbers. It looked like every other house, with the exception of a different vehicle, and a few other decorative touches. He saw that there was a red and gold sun on the back of the vehicle, further indicating this was indeed where he must be.

About time, too. He thought sardonically, Any longer, and I would have gone mad.

To go through the door would be too predictable, and possibly set off an alarm, from what he was told. To climb to the roof, would be very hazardous. Kapral was an outcast among the people. And it was accustomed by the people, for criminals to have their wings cut; to prevent them from flying. He missed his wings. If he had them, he would have flown to the roof without fail. But he does not need wings to think of a another way to enter.

He spied a wide open window from the side of the house, possibly to let air circulate. As he moved closer, he saw that the opening leads into a kitchen of sorts. Looking down at the opening, there was a clear counter top space underneath. The window was wide enough for him to squeeze through.

"Too easy." He mused quietly, "They should have known better, the fools."

He climbed up the window, and onto the counter top, as swiftly as he needed to be. He made sure nothing breakable would fall to the floor, and grabbed whatever dishes he knocked over, with precise and fluid movement. He breathed a quick breath just before moving on. He placed the objects elsewhere, and started searching.

He scanned the dark room before him, aware that someone unknown could be watching. He made way to the stairs hoping he may find the right room. Downstairs was not much, a smaller space than upstairs. It was a maze of multiple rooms: a bigger living room than down stairs. A bathroom. And there were several bedrooms. He could barely see anything else, however.

Fortunately, he still has his powers. Very limited powers though, given this world seems to restrict magic, like he was told. But nonetheless, he must accomplish his task. Using what energy he had, he focused. His aura faintly glowed as he strained for power. His aura hummed as he concentrated.

Almost... He thought quietly.

It worked briefly, giving him greater sight for a moment. He spotted his target just above him. Despite the brief use of power, he was able to memorize the room his target was in. He grinned underneath his helm, pleased that he managed to use his powers. He was given these powers by The Master, but usually never used them.

Up ahead, and to the right. he remembered as he went in the designated direction.

When he came up the stairs, a door was open he noticed. This was good because it made it easier to enter silently. Inside, he was in a medium sized bedroom. heard the the light snoring of his future captive. As light as her snoring was, she was deep in her slumber. Once again, making things easier for him.

There she is. he thought. Sunset Shimmer.

She was spread across her mattress. Red and gold wavy hair, light amber skin. Her smile was as soft as her snoring. She was of decent height, skinny as she is. And her appearance alone was enough to entice the even purest of men. Yet she is a pony--a unicorn in fact--who resides in this alien world. As to how she got here, he wouldn't know.

He gazed long enough. He searched his pocket in his cloak, for the cloth he had been saving. With the cloth in his hand, he slowly waits to make his move. He jerked back every time she tossed and turned. For a few minutes, she continued to rustle her sheets. Once she stopped, it was time to make his move.

I have you now.

He placed the the cloth over her mouth, and her eyes immediately opened . She struggled for some time, as he grabbed her, and held her tight to his chest. Her screams were muffled by the cloth, as she tried to free herself from her assailant. But it had all been in vain. She was out cold, as quickly as she awoke. He used enough compound to put her to sleep. Her body was limp, but she was still alive. To use a pony who was already dead, is not a worthy sacrifice, Kapral knew. He felt a sudden tug at his heart now, as if he felt... guilt.

"So sorry to see such beauty be sacrificed." he said to himself, pleased, yet somehow disappointed in his work.