Chapter 1: A Beginning of Sorts
Today had started out so well.
Two guards stood at the ready, swords drawn and magic primed. A stallion looked back at them from under his broad, straw hat. He stood up on two hooves, one resting casually on one hell of a sheathed katana. “Stand aside, or face death,” he said quietly, voice carrying perfectly.
The guards looked at each other nervously- and in that heartbeat, they fell to the ground. The stallion stood not three steps in front of them, sword held perfectly after a nigh-instant slash. I silently prayed the stallion would leave me alone. Yes, I was a prisoner, held behind bars and clapped in irons, but I deserved it. I would serve my penance.
He looked at me, and I cursed quietly. “You.”
“What do you want from me?” I asked tiredly, “Did Madame Frost send you?”
He shook his head, line of straw wobbling in his mouth. That armor of his looked damn fine, too- forged in scales, and made of what looked to be some kind of Shimmering Steel. Shimmering Steel cost a fortune and a half to make, and could only be found on an island inhabited only by the insane and the insanely rich. “No. The Leviathan calls you to war.”
Shit. “The Leviathan? As in, the giant dragon from before time? The myth?”
“She is no myth, Cain. Come with me.” The way things were going, I half-expected the pony to know my real name. He didn’t, apparently.
“As much as I’d love to defy the goddamn Mourning Church, I’m somewhat stuck behind bars,” I replied sarcastically.
He tilted his head, and in a heartbeat the bars clattered noisily on the stone floor. “Come with me.”
“I’m guessing no isn’t an option here?”
And to think today had started out so well.
“So... uh, who are you?” I asked idly, walking abreast of the warrior.
“I am an Agent of the Leviathan,” he replied, voice deep and emotionless.
Getting info out of him was like trying to listen for tumblers- it was in there, but quiet and hidden. Luckily, I’m a practiced locksmith. “No, no. What’s your name? What’s with the sword?”
His eyes flickered over the sword. “My name is irrelevant, Cain. The sword? It is my weapon, and nothing more.”
“Nothing more? I’ve seen more recent katanas than that in Museum Vaults. Hell, that armor-” I grinned, nodding at the shimmering scales, “Is made with the Natsuga technique, the secret to which was lost hundreds of years ago.”
“They..” he hesitated. I’ve won already. “They are the gift of the Leviathan.”
“Huh. The Leviathan is awfully generous for a greedy, primordial dragon from before time itself.”
He looked at me. “Respect her name, Cain. She is not what the Mourning Church claims.”
“Evidently. She’s a guy in those crazy sermons the Sunrise Priests give.”
The Samurai grinned slightly. “Oh, she’ll get a kick out of that.”
“Where the hell are we going?”
The Samurai shrugged. “The Leviathan guides us to her.”
“Guiding us... into a city... after you broke me out of a prison,” I clarified.
“Correct.”
I looked around us. The two guards- decorated with the seven-pointed star of the Mourning God, to my distaste- didn’t even look our way as we entered the city. You know, a stallion from the Island Nations and the infamous Shadow Thief, entering a city after breaking out of a mountain prison. Nothing big. “Did we just...?”
“Yes.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Presumably.”
I followed him into a crowded market square. Wares were hawked, pockets were picked, and money changed hooves for legal and illicit reasons alike. The crowd, though, split like water before us. Whatever they thought of us, they knew we were trouble. Probably the long sword, the foreign garb, and generally looking armed and dangerous.
But something far more dangerous was ahead. A part of my heart felt cold; the air itself burned in my lungs. It was a presence that came suddenly, seeking to subjugate and obliterate. Nobody around us seemed to be affected, though.
My thief senses were screaming. Get away. Run.
The Samurai felt it too. He frowned, muscles tensed. “Beware. She is testing us.”
“What,” I replied flatly, “Is she testing? Our bladder control?”
“That might be part of it,” he said testily.
At that point I looked around me. “Where’d everybody go?”
“The more pressing concern is where the ground went, Cain.”
For a thief, a voice reverberated- coming from nowhere, recalling the crashing waves of a storm, you are not very observant.
I will say now, my bladder control was tested. “How did I miss... that?”
A massive, coiling dragon took up my sight, wings spanning horizon to horizon. It was stormy grey, scales shimmering like flashing lighting- and eyes of blinding, black light that saw into my soul.
“This,” The Samurai stated, “Is Leviathan.”
The Leviathan stared at me for the longest time- probably only a few seconds, but whatever it is she did streched time like a fraying thread. I felt something prodding the darkest corners of my mind, exploring my every memory. You have passed, blind thief.
I groaned. “Very clever.”
The air trembled around me. You have courage, too- or is it stupidity? I like you.
Yeah, I was walking on a knife’s edge there. “Good. Does that mean I can go?”
The Samurai sighed. “No, Cain. The Leviathan has a task for you.”
For a moment there, I’d forgotten the Samurai was there. He was very quiet. “Does this involve killing? I don’t do that, not even if the guy’s an asshole.”
What if, the Leviathan mused, resting her massive head on her forelegs, I asked you really nicely?
I thought for a moment. “Depends.”
Could you please kill the Mourning God?
Did not expect that. “You’re the one who makes mountains insecure, not me. Why don’t you kill him?... it... she?”
He is an upstart, the Leviathan snorted derisively, but one who has secured the hearts of your kind quite handily. A god cannot die by my hoof, as long as their believers still hold faith.
“Sure you don’t mean claw?”
She looked at her claws. Nitpicking, are we? Impressive, for a blind thief.
I’m almost certain that the Leviathan just enjoys metaphorically roasting ponies. “You’ve probably seen better- you’re awfully old, aren’t you?”
The Samurai cringed. “Too far.”
I am well aware of my age, mortal. How about you go out there and kill the Mourning God for me? I have time to kill, but you do not.
“You’d better be paying me for this.”
The last one asked for power and mares. I ate them.
“On second thought, I’d be happy to do this for free.”
What a kind stallion you are.
I groaned, rolling out of bed. My everything ached like hell- farming isn’t easy, let me tell you. That was my life every day for a year.
What? You expected the Leviathan to send me off immediately?
Well, so did I. She dropped me in the countryside, with instructions to wait for a sign from her. I half expect her to just do the shadow-world trick again and call it ‘subtle’.
So another day began. I went out into the fields, hoe in hoof and sword at my side. Like every other day, I expected it to go without incident. If I was lucky, the neighbors (that means the family only a mile away instead of a league) would drop by, asking for a helping hoof.
Of course, none of that happened. I went back to the homestead for lunch, then went back out and worked until the sun came down. Another boring day.
Winter was creeping around the corner. I could feel it in the air, I could see it in the patterns of birds-
I took a deep breath. This life was what I wanted. Cain the Farmer, innocent and at peace. The crisp breeze filled my lungs, taking the knot in my chest with it. But on that breeze, I heard something different.
Metal and leather, clattering and stomping in the packed earth. Soldiers at march, my thief’s ear told me. I returned to working my fields, glancing up as the stallions came into view. Their chests bore a seal. The Seven-Pointed Star.
Something told me that my respite from reality wasn’t going to last much longer.
The beginning of the end started when a unicorn arrived at my door as the first snows fell.
He wore light greens and some equally light armor. A staff was strapped on his back, and what I could read of his musculature told me he knew how to use it. “Hello. I apologize, good sir, for bothering you at such a time-”
I looked at him dryly. “You want the room upstairs, or the one closer to the back door?”
He caught my meaning, and shook his head. A wan smile graced his hard visage. “Upstairs. I am no criminal.”
“Good. I have plenty of food for the winter, and not much to do with it. You play chess?”
“You are an odd farmer, but a kind one. You haven’t asked my name.”
“The name’s... Lawrence. Lawrence Cain. You?” I gestured him in, smirking.
Seems he knew me, from the glint in his eyes. “Steel Grey. Pleased to meet you, Shadow Thief.”
We shook, and I waved him inside. “Life is just going to get more interesting from here, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
Spring came without incident, and with it came more soldiers. They marched by, off to destinations unknown. Still, the pennants of the Mourning Star flew proudly and ominously. Steel, however, did not. It seemed I had a convert to the way of not fighting.
If the Leviathan wanted me to kill a god by converting people to farming, this was going to take a while. I would probably go mad trying, if I’m not already. Hell, I was pulling out my old sword and polishing it every so often. Just in case, you know? Every few days, I even spotted Steel reading a book embossed with a tree, whatever that meant. Wasn’t a normal book, I can tell you that.
Luckily for the both of us, as the third month of Spring began, there was another knock at the door. A desperate one.
We looked at each other. “We should probably go get that,” I said, the unspoken tension snapping.
“Indeed.”
I stood, sheathing my sword- and after a brief hesitation, buckled it on. Steel pocketed, marking his page with a piece of grey fabric.
I opened the door. On the other side was a mare- a pegasus, quite rare in those parts- in grey fabrics, looking at me with strangely icy eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly, eyes darting about, “I need your help.”
“Alright. What is it?” I replied, scanning her. As a stallion I am obligated to say she was rather attractive, what with that long black mane and wiry frame. She looked every bit as dangerous as many of my old comrades in the Guild. Her eyes, though... I’ve talked a lot about them, haven’t I? Anyways, they were ringed in red and wet with tears.
“My sister has been kidnapped,” she said, talking quickly, “They took her North- towards the war- and I can’t chase her alone-”
“And I presume the folks in town sent you here?” Steven finished.
“W-well, no. There was this stallion from the Island Nations-”
“With a long sword and shimmering armor?”
“Yes. H-he told me to come here.”
I sighed. “Steel, you up for an adventure?”
“Better than farming.”
“Anything is better than farming.”
“Touché.”
“Alright, then,” I said, looking back into her in the eyes, “Stay here for the night. Take whatever food and fabric you need, and we’ll be ready by noon tomorrow.”
That look she gave me told me so much. “Thank you. I can’t begin to-”
I waved a hoof. “Then don’t. Get some rest.”