Templar's Honor

Chapter 1: The Fog City

"Oi! Spits, he's down over there!" Fleetfoot called to me.

"I see 'em!"

Fleetfoot took one side of the street and I the other. We used the natural fog of Cloudsdale to conceal our movements on the rooftops. Our prey, Sir Clover, was a banker of the Rimpanis Family. That Olden Family was well-known for their ties with the Templar. He had been giving secret loans to the Order and it was about time he was stopped. Who else to assassinate him than the best of the best? That was what we Wonderbolts were, the best Assassins one will ever find in the Equestria Empire.

I watched the banker closely. The breath from my mouth could be seen in the winter air and slightly obscured my vision. I could hear his footsteps as they hit the cold stone road. Fleetfoot hopped onto a ruined column, one of many that dotted the ancient city. Sir Clover stopped his walking and was chatting with a scrawny man right below us. We leaned in from where we perched and listened.

"Is that really necessary, Sir Clover?" The man asked him.

"Of course it is! The Assassins are ever-present here. The Rimpanis Family can't allow another robbery." The banker yelled.

"Right away, Sire!" The man turned and ran off.

"Are we ready?" I asked Fleetfoot from across the street.

"Hmmm....Yeah."

I popped my neck and thoroughly stretched my arms and legs. The banker was closer to me than her, so I was going to make the jump. My prey still stood there, not knowing what was about to eat him. I extended my hidden blade and jump off the roof.

My body rushed through the thin fog. My hood flapped against the wind. The feeling was good, no, it was spectacular. My prey looked up and saw me, but I didn't worry. It was too late for him. I collided with him and my blade ran deep into his heart. I smiled and pulled my weapon out of his chest. As I began to strut away, his meek voice called to me.

"You bloody Assassins! When shall this end? When shall all......all this bloodshed end!?"

I chuckled. "When there is no more scum like you."

With that, I left him. The common folk screamed as they found his corpse staining the clean road. Fleetfoot jumped off a roof and joined me. We were two hooded figures in blue and yellow Assassin robes, simply enjoying the cold day. Our objective was done, brutal and harsh it may be, but it was necessary for our cause. So I did not give it much thought. Fleetfoot and I strolled through the city, passing many merchants and craftsmen. Cloudsdale had always been the trade center in the west. This was due to it being the first city in Equestria and the first capital of the Empire.

We continued our walk back to the North District Den. On the way, we passed the First Cloudsdalian. This was a large marble statue of Commander Hurricane, or Praefectus Huricanus in Cloudsdalian. The statue depicted the warrior with an outstretched arm, pointing his Neptune, his sword to the east. His shield had the image of a pegasus soaring through the air. His armor covered every corner of his body. Large feathery wings spread out from his back. Underneath his feet were the remains of those he conquered. Skulls and bones covered the base of the statue. I walked by and admired the work of art, as I had done countless times before. The exaggeration in his muscles and the addition of wings made it slightly comical, but the underlying message was clear. He came, he conquered, and he established a sophisticated society in place of the barbaric tribes that inhabited Equestria before him. Truly one to be admired.

"Finally we got here." Fleetfoot complained.

"Sometimes it's good to take your time." I told her.

We entered the North District Den. A place well-hidden from Templar eyes. Like all Dens, it appeared to be a simple home from the outside, but once inside, it is much more. Cloudsdalian Dens were mostly underground. Each Den possessed a Den Master's quarters, a Bearer's quarters, a lounge, a kitchen, a storage room, Assassin quarters, and a training room. Since I was not Den Master, so I slept with all the other Brothers in the simple Assassin quarters. Fleetfoot headed that way while I felt that my arrival must be announced.

"Salvete! I'm back!"

"Ah good. Did the mission go well?" Soarin asked as he exited the Bearer's quarters.

"Yes. Uhh....Why were you in there?"

"Come along then. The Bearer of Kindness is here."

The Bearer of Kindness? Why was she here. We hadn't had a Bearer in our Den for some time. I followed Soarin into the Bearer's quarters. The room was only illuminated by the windows. A tall woman in simple light green robes stood silently and gazed out of the windows. Her hair was long and pink. I had seen the Bearer of Kindness before, so I knew this was her. She was not alone, as a man in Den Master robes hung over a large table and inspected the documents that were sprawled over it. When I entered, he saw me.

"Ah, salve Spitfire, good to see you."

I bowed. "It's good to see you too, Den Master."

The Bearer turned around. Her eyes were a bright green and they did not seem happy. She gave me and Soarin a meek smile and waved a gloved hand and us. She did not say anything.

The Den Master spoke up. "Since you just arrived, I'll inform you of our plans. There is a Templar from Saddle Arabia here in Cloudsdale. He has been dealing with some of the Olden Families. We believe that is giving them oil to raise money for Templar efforts. Those bastards in the Order have caused enough trouble in this city, we must silence this Arabian."

"Do not worry Den Master. I shall take care of it." I told him.

The Den Master smiled. "Hmph. Good to see you active Spitfire. I'll leave it to you. He was last spotted in the East District."

"Be quick with it. He does not need to suffer in death." The Bearer ordered me in a soft voice.

I bowed and exited the Bearer's quarters. I did not like being idle, so another contract was fine with me. Soarin followed me out of the room. When we were at the door, he smiled at me.

"Ya know, you still don't have your own weapon." He said as he tapped his mace.

I rolled my eyes at this. We Wonderbolts made the tradition to carry and wield a weapon we took off of a Templar we killed. Soarin had his large mace from a Templar soldier and Fleetfoot had her two cutlasses from a Templar bandit. I, however, had none. I shrugged and looked up at him.

"Maybe there hasn't been a weapon good enough for me." I smirked.

"Oh Spits, you can't fight everything with jus' your hidden blade. Promise me you'll get one soon?"

"Alright. I promise."

"Bene."

He patted my shoulder and walked off to the lounge. Soarin had always worried for me. Ever since we joined the Brotherhood, he had been this way. I guessed it was good for me, as I had always been one to get into trouble. I opened the door and went back out to the cold and foggy city.

The ruins of ancient Clousdale loomed over the modern stone buildings that rebuilt the city. The constant change between the past and the present made Cloudsdale so unique. I was honored to have this city be my home. The plazas, the people, and the structures all made me feel alive. This city was in a constant fog as it sat on the mountains, but the overcast never bothered Cloudsdalians. Cloudsdalians did not care for luxury or tolerable weather like Canterlotians. We were a resilient people and have survived many dangers, just like our city.

The East District was on the Low Hills. The Low Hills were the base of Cloudsdale. The Fog City had many levels to it as it was built on the side and on top of a mountain. The Low Hills were where most trade happened since travelers hardly ever climbed the roads to higher levels. So, I made my way through the city by the rooftops and ziplines. Landing on an ancient temple and then running across a newly built home. From the rooftops, it was seamless travel, except for the few drops one had to perform to get to lower levels.

I finally reached the Low Hills. The Cloudsdale East Gate was in the distant fog. The fog was worst in the East District, as it was by far the lowest point in the city. However, this did not deter me. I had my target and I had been in this situation many times before. I made my way through the crowds, eyeing every single suspicious movement. The man coughing uncontrollably, the woman slapping her fiancee across the face. Nothing got by me. My search continued as I did not see an Arabian anywhere.

"Hey Spits! What're doing?" I heard a voice behind me.

I spun around and saw a familiar face. The woman before me was short and wore thick light gray Assassin robes. Her hair was some sort of light blue and her eyes were lavender. She smiled at me with white teeth. I chuckled and waved to her. "Ah! Salve Flitter! What brings you down here?"

"Oh the usual. I've been chasing down some of Lightning Dust's goons. That Templar never gives up."

"Should have known. Well, I have an Arabian to track down. Man's with the Order."

"An Arabian? I saw one of them up the road. Creepy fellow, armed, and with bodyguards too."

"Hmm. Bene. I'll find him. Gratias."

She bowed. "Quaesitionem nullam."

I headed in the direction she pointed. Flitter was an Assassin of the East District Den. She and her twin sister, Cloud Chaser, had been amazing agents of the Brotherhood ever since they joined. Their fighting skills and their spectacular agility had made them rise in Assassins rank fast. I still outranked them, being a Fourth Rank Assassin, and them being both Third Ranks. However, my mind was not on Assassin ranks, but the Arabian Templar. If I hurried, I could make it for supper at the Den.

The air became colder as the sun fell in the west. I still had not found my Arabian. People were still out in the chilly air, chugging ale and cider. Nothing out of the ordinary. I looked this way and that. The Templar was still out of sight. I decided to search the area from above, so I climbed onto a roof. I was becoming impatient and began to pace atop the old building I was on.

There he was! Finally, I spotted an Arabian with two armored guards with him. The guards were in Arabian armor and wielded scimitars just like the Templar. I silently approached them from above. The Arabian was busy talking with a merchant. This was my chance, but I couldn't simply jump on the Arabian. The guards were next to him and would surely stab me while I attacked their employer. Since I was not a Den Master or a Bearer, I only had one hidden blade, so I could not take the guards out simultaneously. I hopped down from the roof and slowly walked up to the guards. They had their backs to me and faced the Templar. When I was close enough, I stabbed a guard in the back with my blade and grabbed his scimitar from its sheath.

"Hey!" The other guard screamed.

He drew his saber and swung at me. I dunked under his blade and strafed around him. I took a step back and laughed.

"That's the best you can do?" I taunted.

"Argh!" The guard swung at me again.

I sidestepped and then sliced into his armor. The guard grunted in pain. I withdrew my sword and finished the guard with clean decapitation. My attention shifted to the Templar. He stood there with his scimitar raised at me. He was clearly not intimidated by my skill. I raised my sword and we began to circle around.

"Not afraid, are you?" I asked.

"I'm never afraid of killers like you." He spat.

"So be it."

I charged him. The Templar deflected my attack and retaliated. I jumped back just in time. The Arabian was quick. We had a crowd around us by now. Most of the spectators were drunk and cheered loudly at us. I attacked again. He jumped away from my sword and returned with a punch to my face. The hit left me stunned. He took advantage and swung his blade to end me. I crouched and then lunged at him with my hidden blade. I had successfully missed his attack and stabbed him in the torso. I then ran him into the ground and stood over him. He coughed up blood as he bled in the plaza.

"It can't end like this...." He panted.

"It's the proper end for every Templar."

He looked at me. "Templar? What is a Templar?"

I was taken aback. "It is what you are." I said this with uncertainty.

His head fell back. "I am no Templar. I am a tradesman."

"Ha, tradesmen do not have bodyguards."

"No, but Arabians do. Cloudsdale is not fond of my people."

"You are going to die; you might as well admit you are a Templar."

"My people do not lie. I am no Templar; I do not even know what that is."

I began to stammer. "The....Then this.....this is a mistake..."

His eyes widened. "Mistake? Could you leave my death any worse? I was not your target?"

"No.....Yes? You are an Arabian, and one that deals with oil right?" Fear gripped at my heart.

"Yes, my......my dealings were......with the Families."

"You were my target......But you're not my enemy....."

He did not reply as the life left his eyes. I was unconvinced. He had to be a Templar. I began to search his corpse for any signs or symbols that would indicate such a thing. I found none. This man was innocent. I had killed an innocent man. This was crime in the Brotherhood that was not forgivable. Should I tell them? How could I? They would punish me if they knew what I had done. Wait, they were the ones that told me to do it. Did they make a mistake? My head began to sweat as contemplated all this. I stopped and took a deep breath. I then leaned over the Arabian and closed his eyes, saying the traditional Cloudsdalian goodbye.

"Requiescat in pace"

I grabbed his sword. I needed a way to remember my mistake since I would not tell the others. I took his sheath and tied it around my waist. I then placed his scimitar comfortably in its sheath. This was going to my weapon. I would wield it against my true foes. Never shall I make such a mistake again. This poor Arabian man, who I did not even know the name of, died at my hands due to a costly error. This was not Honor. I must regain it somehow.

~