The Master Alchemist

Part 5

Applebloom facedesked for about the tenth time now. The zebras were a stubborn people, not very used to change. This made them very difficult to deal with, even more so than the average politician.

"Councilor, we can secure extra guards for the caravans. Celestia was willing to send an entire legion to defend shipments."

Councilor Frala'Nan whinnied in some sort of frustration. "Defending them is not the problem! We have guards; the problem is the raiders themselves. There have been more and more attacks, more and more deaths. Even with an entire legion of reinforcements, we couldn't hope to hold off for long. We need to stop the raiders' source."

"We could have agents come in to find their hideouts," Applebloom suggested with a shrug. If she had fingers, she would have had them crossed. The Councilors had not been too cooperative about her suggestions.

"Actually... that might help," Councilor Sk'ooma said, rubbing a hoof on his chin. "How soon can they be here?"

Applebloom took a guess based on her own time traveling to the Zebra land. "A week? Two?"

"Perfect!" Another Councilor, who Applebloom had not bothered to learn the name of, said, with the other five nodding and murmuring, pleased.

"A solution to this raider pollution has been reached, then?" Zecora said.

"Yes," the Councilors all answered at once.

************

The columns split the light of Celestia's star into lines of even shadow, which grew along the wall and covered it with darkness. Applebloom walked in and out of this shifting light and shade, heading back to her room in preparation to leave with Zecora and Voraloxle. They had met with Zecora's mother, and found her, thankfully, in a much strogner state then they had thought. She was a pleasant enough zebra, though her illness seemed to have made her a bit rude. After a quick checkup, and a few tense moments of explanation, Zecora estimated that her mother had about three or maybe three and a half months left without the potion, giving them plenty of time to not waste or dawdle.

Applebloom hummed a tune Fluttershy had taught her when she was young to pass the time through the Council Hall's picturesque yet boring courtyard.

"My little ponies, my little ponies..." Applebloom softly whispered the first lines, but as she was about to utter the next words, the sounds of loud arguing cut her off.

"We cannot delay! The Book of Vel-" Frala'Nan's voice echoed along the garden and rows of fountains.

The other pony, and this was a pony, not a zebra, muttered in a terse whisper, "Quiet! Someone may hear!"

Immediately, Applebloom flattened against one of the columns and laid a hoof on a blade. The squishy cartilage and muscle of her hoof found a solid hold, providing the yellow pony with a small measure of warm security. She knew she shouldn't have been prying, but she swore she'd heard that name, that... Book of Velnishar? Her ears perked up, straining to hear the sharp words of the councilor.

"...It may be lost to the hands of those... scum! Should they manage to capture it before we can get there--"

"They will not," the hooded pony interrupted.

"Should they capture it," Frala'Nan continued, "they will hold us and your kind hostage with the power of the very sun!"

The other one paused for a moment, as if thinking, then said, "I'm not really in it for my kind. You should know that by now."

"Get on it. Now. Delaying won't help you," Frala'Nan muttered persuasively. "Or me,"

"This operation is... delicate," the hooded figure conceded. "We can't be too hasty, but I'll see what I can do," With that, he turned on one back hoof and trotted away, making a noticeably harder sound hitting the ground on his third step.

Sneaking her eyes around the column, Applebloom saw Frala'Nan turn away and began walking off as well. However, as he walked, his face began to contort, and within seconds he was choking and pulling at a dart stuck in his neck. Applebloom glanced around frantically for the shooter, and spotted a shape in the shadows of the second floor, which quickly pulled away from the railing it had apparently been balancing a rifle on.

Eyeing the second floor balcony, Applebloom made an educated toss of her blade and was rewarded with a body tumbling down off of the ledge. Her elation at a successful hit was lost soon, however, as she rushed to the side of Frala'Nan, who looked to be heaving his last breaths.

"Yorlug, Yorlug island... Celestia... Benevolent assosia-a," Frala'Nan's right forelef twitched, and then lay still. Applebloom hadn't known him well, and didn't really like him, but it was still sad to see. She plucked the dart out of his throat, examining the marks and the colors of the liquid. She licked the tip, then quickly spat; deathbell extract. Even if she had the proper mixture with her, she couldn't have saved the Councilor. But what had he said? Yorlug island? Celestia? Benevolent association?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the striking hoofbeats of the Council's guards. The zebras wore a single uniform, but carried a mishmash of armament, implying a lack of organization or funding.

And, unfortunately, training too.

With that thought, Applebloom felt the cold steel of a revolver barrel nesting on the back of her head.

"It ain't me," she said, calmly and without motion. "It was that feller over yonder," she said, kicking a hoof in the direction of the fallen zebra.

The zebra holding the gun whispered something to his brothers in arms, and one of them turned over the face-down corpse.

His face turned to shock and drained of color as he delivered his report.

"It's... it's Sergeant Krayas! She... killed him, sir!"

Uh oh.