The Tome of Faust

by DungeonMiner

Rating: teen
Tags: Commander Hurricane, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Chancellor Puddinghead, Princess Platinum, Romance, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Crossover, The Elder Scrolls
Length: 166626

In the age of Equestria's founding, the world is not at peace. Dangers wait at every corner, and the shadows of the old world wish it dead. And yet in all of this, one pony just wants to live a normal life.

It has been thirty years after the founding of Equestria. The three tribes constantly bicker and fight, the wild frontier is filled with dangerous beasts, and the cities are filled with crazed revolutionaries and saboteurs.

Thieves and assassins roam the shadows, and powerful nobles from the old world all have their money on when this "precious little utopia" fails. One in particular, Baron Jet, has decided to destroy this hopeful land of light with his own two hooves.

And all the while, one stallion just wants a shot at a normal life under the clear, blue sky.

**Now rewritten**

Published 2017-01-28 03:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-06-08 22:29:05 UTC

Chapter 1

The steps to freedom were slick with rain, and the unicorn couple clung to their child as they climbed. Lightning flashed, lighting their way as they made their way up as they moved through the smooth, stone tunnel.

“How much further?” the mare asked their guide, whose light spell barely revealed the stone before them.

“Not much further, Mi’lady,” the guide said.

“Soon, my love,” the stallion beside her said. “We’ll be out of here soon. We’ll go back, regroup, and make the Princess pay for this.”

The mare smiled at the thought, and held her bundle close. “I’ll simply be happy to be free of the warden,” she replied weakly.

The stallion nodded. “He truly is a fool,” he answered.

“His apprentice is not much better,” the mare continued.

“Hush now, dear, we’ll be out of here soon, save your strength until then.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, as she continued to cradle the bundle close to her chest.

The clink of armor sounded in the tunnel behind them.

“We need to keep moving, Mi’lady,” the guide said.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Deeper they went, until finally they came upon a wall that stood taller than either stallion.

“I’ll go first,” said the husband, motioning to the guide to offer him some help.

Obeying, the guide offered his back, and together, they pushed the stallion up and over the wall.

And the sounds of the armor got closer.

“Alright, you next dear.”

The mare looked down to the bundle by her chest.

“I’ll take him,” the guide offered. “You can then hand him to your husband from the top.”

She nodded, carefully handing the foal over to him.

The armor got closer.

Climbing on his back, the mare quickly reached the top.

And they got closer still.

“Alright, quickly, hand him to me.”

He began to lift the little child.

“There they are!”

Something flew through the darkness, and struck the mare in the chest. She gasped, and fell backwards of the wall.

The guide ran, clutching the bundle as he ran into the tunnels, trying to escape the guards. He could hear them fill the tunnel behind him, yelling orders and firing crossbows.

Well now he had no choice.

He could hide back in the prison. The warden wouldn’t think twice about him.

The little bundle in his magical grip stirred and cried.

The guide sighed.

It seemed both of them would have to hide.

His name was Mouse.

He may have had a different name at one point, but his parents were no longer around to ask. Instead, he used the name he earned as a foal.

He moved in the darkness of the Canterlot dungeon, clinging to the walls and the deep alcoves of natural rock and crude masonry. He slid between them, his slight frame allowing him to slip between the larger cracks and the bent bars of the more neglected cells.

"Hey, hey, it's the Mouse. Come to take my food again?"a voice growled from across the hallway.

The small unicorn smirked, but continued on. "If I were here for your food, you wouldn't have noticed."

The dungeon was his home, and he had lived here for as long as he could remember. He had learned quickly here, among the thieves, revolutionaries, and outlaws, how to be unseen, if only long enough to grab their food and run.

The din of the prisoners was almost deafening as Mouse slipped into the next cell block, climbing up onto the single wooden rafter beam that crossed them. His hooves barely made a sound, and certainly not one that could be heard over the prisoners as they paced their cells or played card games.

He slid past them all, without a single pony seeing him.

And then, finally, finally he found his target.

He slipped in through a narrow tunnel, a tight squeeze even for a smaller pony like himself, and came out on the other side. A short drop away down to the floor, and he was there.

He sat in a tiny cell, no larger than seven feet square, with manacles hanging from the walls, and a large barred door. It also had a window, one of the few in the entire dungeon. A small hole in the wall, about as big as brick, but barred like the doors. It’s what made this cell his favorite.

His eyes, normally a cold green, stared up at the tiny window, watching the light, and the brilliant blue of the mythical sky he had heard so much about. He had a variety of different colors down in the dungeons, all from the coats of ponies, earth, unicorn, and pegasus all. He had seen greens, reds, yellows, and blues all in the world of grey. Yet of all of them, he had never seen a more vibrant blue than from that tiny hole.

He stared up into the sky, sitting in the normally empty cell, enjoying the color and quiet all at once.

Or at least, he was trying to.

“Oh, aren’t you adorable,” a voice said from behind him.

Another prisoner, a pegasus in the cell opposite of the hallway smirked as she stared at him through the bars.

Mouse had seen her before. She was a newcomer, having not been here for two days, but she acted as though she owned every square foot of the dungeon.

“Tell me, horn-face, would you happen to know what that cell is for?” she said with a laugh. “That’s where they keep the condemned prisoners. They’ll keep you there just long enough to let you sarding stew, to let you panic and worry until there’s no hope left, then, only when you beg for death, they'll take you away and give it to you. Then again, if I were in charge, I would make it worse.”

Mouse didn’t even dignify the oddly well-spoken mare with a glance. He knew what this cell was for, he had seen mares and stallions all enter this cell and disappear after a few days.

He continued to stare at the sky, fascinated by the vibrant blue which shined so bright that he could hardly see it.

“If you're going to sit in that cell like that, knifeface, you're going to die. And it's going to be bad, I assure you. The little patchwork you've got on your back is going to be nothing by comparison.” the pegasus snorted.

Mouse glanced at the number of scars that broke the otherwise uniform grey of his coat, all earned from run-ins with the more violent prisoners back when he didn't know any better before he went on ignoring her, staring up at the light as she tried to scare him with threats of death.

He knew better, he knew the guards had never cared about him, just another nameless pony that lived in their dungeons. They did not bother him as long as he kept his head down, and he was very good at that.

“We have to hurry, your Highness,” a voice muttered in the darkness.

Both prisoners turned toward the sound, up a set of stairs that lead higher into the tower’s jail. Heavy doors swung, and hooves clopped against stone, echoing off the stone.

“Oh, you hear that?” the pegasus smirked. “They’re coming for you already, the efficiency of Canterlot's prison is incredible. Personally, I would have let you rot a little sarding longer."

Mouse didn’t even look at her, but instead, he slid away, hiding in the corner of the cell, trying to hide in the shadows of the dungeon.

“Are you sure?” another voice answered, getting louder now. “We would hate to open such a secret if there were no danger.”

“We have no choice Princess,” a third voice said, followed by hoofsteps coming down the stairs.

“Are you sure, Clover?”

“The world is becoming too dangerous, Princess. We can’t take chances here.”

The second voice sighed. “If you say we must, we must.”

Two pairs of ponies walked up to the cell door, a torch being held aloft by a unicorn’s magical grasp. There was the click of a lock.

Mouse stared at them as they entered, all armored, all armed. Guards, obviously. Mouse had never trusted the guards. All the talk among the inmates of their evils and cruelties, and they certainly looked the part with their scowls and the iron that surrounded them. The unicorn worked with both torch and keys, while the pegasus held a spear, his head swiveling back and forth across the room. The two earth ponies behind them looked down at the swords, ready to draw them at a moment’s notice.

None of them noticed the grey unicorn who hid not two yards away.

“Quickly, your highness,” the unicorn said, keeping the door open for whoever followed him.

And in stepped a creature that Mouse had never seen before. She was no inmate, and she was no guard, she was a being unlike either of them. Her fur was a brilliant white, and a silver crown set with amethysts sat upon her head. Her mane, a waterfall of silver, clung to her, and hid her face from where Mouse was hiding. Around her withers was a thick, cloak of a deep, royal, purple edged with mink fur and silver tassels.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the queen of the coneheads, hail to our glorious leader, have you come to do us all a favor and give the throne to a more capable pony?” the pegasus prisoner sneered from across the way.

The princess ignored her, as though she hadn’t even heard her, she did react to the cell, however, even as she stepped inside. “Oh...sweet Faust above, that stench, is this how we treat our prisoners? We must do something about this.”

“Another time, Princess,” another unicorn said, following behind the unicorn.

She likewise, was dressed in a cloak, although her’s was simple and brown. She was shorter than the royal, almost angelic being beside her, and looked far closer to an inmate, yet even still, Mouse was not sure. Her pale green coat and emerald mane was not as shocking as the white and silver of the mare beside him, but she did have an odd air about her, something that Mouse had never encountered, and could not explain. There was almost something mystical about her, as though her simple form was the disguise of a spirit. “We must hurry,” she said.

“Ah, that's it. You're a sadist that has come to watch a stallion die. My, my, that is sarding low for you.” The prisoner across the hallway smirked.

The guards looked at her, confused, while the mare in the simple cloak blinked.

The pegasus snorted. “Ignore her, your majesty, she’s clearly mad.”

“Ignore who?” came the simple response from the crowned mare.

“Are you sarding kidding me?” the prisoner growled. “He’s right there! He’s in the sarding cell with you!”

Mouse mentally cursed the feathered mare. She would give him away if she kept talking.

The guards shook their head, confused by the screaming mare, but the green mare was searching now, staring into the darkness for a sign.

Mouse stayed perfectly still, knowing all too well that moving was worse than staying still.

“Lady Clover,” one of the guards said, “there is no need to worry, the prisoner is obviously mad and—”

The green unicorn’s horn began to glow, and a ball of light began to grow in the air.

Mouse blinked wildly as the ball began to shine, brighter than the candles that lit the dungeon, brighter than the light from the torch, and brighter even than the light that streamed in from that small window.

He heard, rather than saw, the guards raise their spears and drew their swords, crying in surprise at the sudden reveal of the pony.

Mouse tried to open his eyes, tried to see so he could run and hide once more, but all he could see was the green light shining in his eyes.

“Lady Clover!” one of the guards yelled. “Get behind us, and we’ll—”

“Stand exactly as you are,” she said, and to took Mouse a moment to realize she was talking to the guards and not him.

They froze, unsure, while the crowned one blinked, a worried look growing on her face.

“Please,” the green mare began, her voice soft, “stay still, let me see you.”

Mouse debated running anyways, but the guards and their spears quickly dissuaded him. Instead, he stood still, blinking in the green light as the mare looked him up and down. She could almost feel her gaze on him, tracing over his coat, and the blank space on his flank.

“It’s you…” she muttered, almost to herself. “It’s really you…”

Mouse tried to look her in the eye, but the light was still too bright.

“It is you…” she said, finally, her words barely a whisper. “Princess,” she said, looking back at the white-coated mare, “it’s him. The one from my dreams…”

The princess said nothing, staring at the green mare, who turned back to Mouse. “What’s your name, sir?”

Sir? Mouse had never been called sir in his entire life. He blinked, at both the light, and the address, and regarded the mare before him. Finally he spoke, his voice quiet and clipped. “They call me Mouse.”

“Mouse, I don’t know how you found yourself down here, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Today you will be a free man.”

“L-Lady Clover?” One of the guards began, confused.

“So you’re letting him go?” came the cry from the other cell. “You sarding idiots are going to let him go? This is what you call Justice? What happened to sarding equality?”

The Princess continued to ignore the prisoner, but she did look to the green mare with a curious, cautious stare. “Are you sure, Clover?”

The green-coated unicorn simply nodded.

And the Princess shook her head in awe.

The mare in the brown cloak turned back to Mouse and looked him over once more.

The Princess meanwhile, turned to the guards. “Prepare the passage. We must be on our way.”

“But the Prisoner—” the guard began.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Leave him be. Focus on preparing the way out. We need to depart immediately.”

The guards nodded, and they quickly moved to the left hand wall, the spear-wielding ones standing guard while the earth ponies searched among the stones.

And the green mare in brown cloak stared up at him, looking at Mouse as though she had seen a ghost.

“You...you need to come with us,” the green mare said, her voice almost shuddering.

Mouse had heard a lot of ponies in his years in the prisons. He heard the nervous, staring up at the largest, most dangerous ponies, he heard the greatest of liars talk their way out of fights, he even heard the confidence of those who run the prison, cutting through their enemies with mere threats.

Listening to the mare ahead of him, he was sure that she was scared of him for some reason. Terrified, but trying to sound strong.

Was she scared of him? He was barely taller than her, and almost as thin. He was eating better than anyone else in the dungeon, but still, he was not a dangerous-looking pony.

“Please,” she repeated, “you have to.”

Mouse said nothing.

One of the guards pressed a stone in the wall, and a large section of it simply fell away, revealing a tunnel that Mouse never knew existed.

“You need to follow us,” she said. “It’s far more important than you could ever know.”

Mouse stayed quiet, as he was wont to do.

The mare looked up at him, begging with her eyes.

“Clover,” the Princess said, “We must leave now, we cannot afford to wait.”

The green mare continue to stare.

Mouse watcher her, but stayed quiet.

“Clover,” the Princess called again.

The green mare stepped away, never taking her pleading eyes off of him.

He did not move, staring back at her with his green eyes.

“Clover, come. We must go now.”

The unicorn mare took another step away and continued to stare.

Mouse stared back.

She waited one more moment, staring back one last time, before she finally turned, and followed after the Princess and her guards.

Mouse watched them disappear into the darkness, before he looked back up at the small window in the wall.

“Why aren't you going?” the pegasus yelled from her cell across the hall. “I cannot believe you, you literally have a sarding exit in your wall, and you haven't left?" she yelled checking the wall in her own cell, desperate for a brick that could reveal a pathway to her own freedom. “What's the matter? Is your sarding horn so long that you're afraid it'd drag against the ceiling?”

She continued to rant, yelling and screaming at an empty cell.

Mouse was already gone.

Mouse followed the Princess’ party watching from a distance as he hid in the shadows. The guards were taking both the front and the back of the small party, with both mares in the middle.

“I should go back,” the one named Clover said.

“You can’t,” the Princess said. “If you were to leave, then we would be without one of the best adviser our family has ever had. We simply cannot allow that, Clover.”

The green mare shook her head. “And if I do not, I doom Equestria forever.”

The Princess shook her head. “You can’t know that, Clover.”

“I’ve seen it,” she replied. “I’ve seen it in my dreams.”

“They’re just dreams, Clover,” the Princess said.

Clover shook her head. “You know the truth.”

Mouse wasn’t sure what to make of it. The green mare was clearly mad is she thought that coming back for him would save Equestria.

Even still, she still seemed so incredibly insistent on going back. Or, she would be, if she actually took steps back. She kept walking with the princess, keeping in step as they descended further and further into the depths of the tunnel.

They still had not seen him, but the lights of the guard and Clover’s green ball were both blinding, and would reveal him in an instant. With the lights against him, Mouse found himself facing two options, the first was stay close, and risk discovery, the other, become lost.

The tunnel was labyrinthine to say the least. Corridors intersected corridors, hallways ran parallel to hallways, arches sat in arches, and they had already ran into three separate secret doors.

He didn’t really have much choice, but to use his ace.

When he was young, an old unicorn had taught him. He had taught him how to read, how to walk, how to count, and he even taught him something to help Mouse stay hidden. It was certainly not an easy spell, but it had proven invaluable in his early life. It was still difficult, but it seemed that he had no choice.

With the soft glow of green light, he cast his spell, and his coat shimmered in response.

The grey of his coat washed away, and he seemed to blend into light, darkness and color. His form began to blur, and he almost completely disappear but for a shimmer in the air that hugged his form.

It was not perfect, but it would do.

He followed behind them now, staying quiet as he moved, almost invisible to the guards and mares ahead of him.

“We will survive, Clover,” the Princess said. “Equestria will survive.”

“That’s not what I saw,” the mare answered.

“Even if the land we made is rent asunder, it will live on,” the Princess said. “If only in our hearts,” she muttered.

Clover shook her head. “Forgive me, Princess, but that is sappy.”

“It’s a gift,” the princess replied.

A guard cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my Lady, but I must urge you to be quiet. We cannot risk the members of the Horn finding us.”

The Horn? That was certainly...an odd name. Why not name yourself after a hoof? Or tail? Why the horn?

A blast of living fire slammed into a guard ahead of the party, flanking him from one of the crossing hallways. A sword flashed in the air, and spear heads came to bear as smoke filled the hallway.

“For the Mystic Order!” a cry came, along with a bright purple figure in the smoke.

Fire, ice, steel, and the crack of lightning shot through the air, almost deafening Mouse where he stood not ten feet away.

Metal clanged against metal, spells seared against stone, and blood began to fill the space between them all.

Mouse watched as the battle raged in front of him, he lost sight of everything in the struggle, and could only stare until it finally slowed.

The smoke cleared, and two unicorns stood over the bodies of two of the guards. Both of the unicorns were dressed in bright purple robes, and they stared down at the bodies of the guards at their hooves. “Dirty mudbloods,” one sneered, as he kicked a corpse.

“I don’t see the Princess,” the other said.

“Our comrades will find her,” the first one said. “Too much has gone into our plan for us to fail.”

The other robed one cursed. “The dirt ponies killed Haughty,” he said, motioning to the purple-clad unicorn on the floor.

“His sacrifice will be remembered,” the first pony said, nodding towards the corpse, in respect. “Now come, we need to catch up. If we hurry, we might be able to stop the traitor.”

Mouse watched them run, letting them flee down the hallways after Clover and the Princess.

He snorted. That’s why the green unicorn needed him. She needed another meat shield to protect her from these “horn” ponies. She needed him to increase her chance of survival, and save Equestria by keeping them alive.

That made sense.

Equestria...a word he was only passingly familiar with. He knew what it meant, it was the country above him, the land he was in. The place of grass, trees, hills, and the sky. He didn’t know what the first three were, but he knew what the sky was, and if he could see that, the whole thing, beyond the binds of a tiny, barred window…

Well...it’d be worth it, certainly.

Mouse looked down at the corpses, the two guards, and the robed unicorn.

Well, no crazy ponies were going to stop him, not today.

He grabbed the guard’s sword belt, buckling it around his shoulder, as he had seen on the guards a thousand times. With the belt on, he picked up the short sword, and slid it into its sheath.

He briefly considered wearing the armor, but he didn’t feel like looking like a guard.

He stepped over the bodies and smiled.

He would see the sky, the real sky.

Now...all he had to do, was leave.

Chapter 2

Mouse moved through the hundreds of corridors, trying to find his way out. Without his unsuspecting guides to lead him through, the maze hidden in the dungeons was confusing at best, and almost actively attempting to keep him lost at worst.

More than once, he could have sworn that the walls were moving on him.

But, he was armed. The short sword at his side, with its long handle designed to be held in the mouth, was decorated with a crossguard shaped like a horseshoe. Beyond that, Mouse wasn’t sure if it was a decent blade, but it was sharp enough to cut the rats in half.

The longer he spent down here the more rats he found. He had come across trenches and pit filled with them, writhing masses of fur and squeaks that were both fascinating and terrifying. Having grown up in the cells here in the dungeon, he had seen what a swarm of rats could do when they were hungry enough.

On the other hoof, rats were easy to cook.

Doing his best to avoid the rivers of rats, despite the one he had tied to his belt by the tail, he continued forward, always keeping a respectable distance from the rivers of rodents.

He had dropped his clumsy invisibility spell, but still stuck to the shadows, moving carefully and stealthily through the maze around him. He was fairly certain he wasn’t being followed, but he had a scar from the last time he made a guess like that.

He turned down a corridor, almost as wide as he was, and he immediately pressed himself against one of the walls. He moved slowly, keeping his blade drawn, and breath quiet, moving his hooves carefully against the flagstones to keep his steps silent.

But it seemed the only ones to hear him, were another couple of corpses. Both the purple-clad unicorns lay, bleeding from wounds that the guards had no doubt left. The scene was gruesome, but not horribly so. Mouse had seen worse.

Mouse poked around the bodies, looking for something that he could take. The cloaks were soft, he would admit, soft enough that they would make wonderful blankets and bedrolls, despite the bloodstain along the hem on one. The other, though, was clean, and Mouse gladly took that one as opposed to the other.

They also seemed to be decorated with a strange bit of embroidery. It appeared to be a thin, five-pointed star done in magenta, with the topmost point done in silver, and decorated like a unicorn’s horn.

Odd.

He quickly began to fold the cloak, and let it sit on his back. He certainly didn’t want to wear it, not with the guards looking for unicorns wearing them. Not now at least. Later perhaps.

Thinking back on it, he should have grabbed the robe on the first unicorn the guards killed, That would have made quite the bed. They both had pouches on their belts as well, the first holding a hoof full of gold coins that nearly made Mouse’s jaw drop.

One of these could buy some of the best narcotics in the prison. With just one of these, he could have the fixers bend over backwards for him. He could get Blackglass, Eagle's eye, or even Good Medicine with this. He could eat like a king with all five.

Reverently replacing the coins in the bag, he tied it next to the rat he planned on eating later, before moving to the other. This bag, however, was different, marked with same star and horn. Reaching inside, however, he found that it was deeper than he first thought. It swallowed his whole leg before he realized the bag was magic.

Making sure that he could, in fact, pull his leg back out, he then reached back in, searching for anything he could find. Finally his hoof found something, and he pulled it back to find a red fruit in his hands.

He blinked, before smelling the thing he found.

Was this...an apple?

He had heard of apples, he had hear some of the inmates praise and crave them alike...but…

He bit into it, and its crisp, juicy flesh exploded against his tongue.

It was paradise.

Such flavor, such texture, such sweetness and the juice! This! This was everything he wanted. Forget the sky, apples were everything he ever wanted.

He reached back into the bag, searching for another, and was surprised that it seemed to leap to his hoof. He smiled as he kept eating his apple, letting it’s flavor take him to places he had never been before.

He ate it down to the core, and smacked his lips with joy as he finished the apple. He then took a moment to look over at the second apple he had procured, and was about to bite into it as well before a scream echoed down the hall.

He paused, before replacing his apple, and stuffing the cloak in the bag as well.

And then he saw the faint trail of blood leading off into distance.

Well...it seemed he still had his guides after all.

He turned, getting ready to leave, before he dropped the rat.

He didn’t need them anymore.

He had apples.

The darkness hugged Mouse’s form, and he slithered between the hallways, following the trail of blood.

No new bodies, yet, but the blood kept leading him forward, and so he followed, hoping for the sky that he was searching for.

That and possibly more apples.

His sword was drawn, his bags were tied to his belt, and he was ready for anything by this point.

Ducking under an archway, he found himself in a cistern, and blinked at the sight that met him. Another one of the purple-clad unicorns lay dead at the feet of an equally dead guard. The pegasus’ spear was braced against the ground, held upright by the dead body of the guard. The unicorn, meanwhile, was stuck on the spear head, held aloft in the air.

It was...well, it was almost impressive. Mouse didn’t know bodies could freeze up that way.

He looked down at guard, and then the purple unicorn that was pinned in the air, before a swift kick knocked the spear off balance, and they both came crashing to the ground. He searched the body, but found nothing but another cloak. He did take a look at the spear, however, with its wing-shaped head, before he decided to leave it be.

He wasn’t sure he could get it to fit in his bag anyway.

Another scream from further down the way, and Mouse began to move again. With luck, he was almost out, and he wouldn’t need these ponies for much longer. He moved again, keeping to the walls and sticking to the shadows as he always had.

He snuck down into another small corridor, and paused as he saw light leaking from the room ahead of him.

“Halden watch over their poor souls,” the silken voice of the princess muttered, echoing off the walls. “Oh...Captain Emerald, we fear that we will not make it,”

“Don’t...worry,...Princess,” a voice said, with gasps breaking his words. “I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“We know you would not falter,” the Princess continued. “We simply hope that the others will forgive the loss of their best stallions.”

“It’s all...alright...my Lady. We knew...of the risks.”

Moving slower, quieter, and hoping the shadows would cling to him. He snuck closer, staring into a new room, much smaller than the cistern he was in not moments ago.

“If he were here, we would be doing better,” Clover moaned, staring at her hooves.

The guard grunted, still holding the torch. “I’m having a hard time believing that a criminal with no training could help us, Lady Clover.”

“Leave her be, Captain,” the Princess ordered. “Let’s...let’s just keep moving forward.”

The Captain nodded, and began leading the mares away.

“He would be leading us through the darkness,” Clover muttered. “We would be hidden, all the way until the end.”

Mouse watched, almost confused as he heard the green mare mutter. It wasn’t...that easy to guess he was the kind to avoid conflict, was it?

A thunderbolt interrupted his thoughts, and the guard went down screaming.

“Not so fast, either of you!” a unicorn yelled, followed by another. Both unicorns quickly flanked the mares, and they quickly found themselves with their backs to the wall.

Mouse had a perfect line of sight on them.

The one closest to him had a spell ready, a ball of flame just waiting to be unleashed.

The far one, drew a knife. A purple blade that he swore he could see through caught the torch light, even as it lay on the floor. “You two aren’t going anywhere.”

Mouse stared on, blinking wildly as he watched the scene unfold before him. The robed ponies stood, spell and weapon ready, and advanced on the mares, and yet, even as Clover and the Princess backed up, they seemed to harden, eyes becoming fiercer with every step backward.

Mouse blinked at the sight of the princess and her aide. They stood proud and still no boasting, no fighting. They merely glared, as though their gaze were a weapon unto itself. Mouse had never seen someone face death like that before.

“Stay out of the way, Miss Clover,” the knife wielding pony said. “We only want the Princess.”

“You’ll take her over my dead body,” she growled in answer. “I knew I would lose my life today, I will lose nothing.”

Mouse kept watching.

And slowly, he came to an awful, terrible conclusion.

He had to do something.

He had to save the Princess, and he didn’t know why. The air about her screamed of her importance and...and well…

She hadn’t done anything.

She didn’t deserve this.

If she had taken food, or called someone names, or anything, then he would understand, but she had done nothing.

The knife-wielding pony moved closer.

Clover tensed.

And the Princess merely glared.

If Mouse moved, he was a dead pony. He knew it.

He wouldn’t be able to take them both. One maybe, and only if he were to strike from the shadows, but both of them?

And before he knew it, he was moving.

His short sword came up, and he charged, slamming into the unicorn with a speed that frightened those who saw it. The blade flew through the unicorn’s head, smashing bone and biting into flesh as the spell fizzled and died.

The remaining unicorn cursed, turning as Mouse leapt over the dropping body of the spell wielding unicorn.

Steel bit into the strange glass of the unicorn’s knife, and the fight began in earnest. The robed one began to fire spells, fire, lightning and frost firing towards Mouse.

The bright bolts of magical electricity burned in a way Mouse did not understand. The frost was colder than the coldest nights alone in the prison, and it was only through luck that he managed to avoid the flames.

Mouse screamed, falling backwards as magic ravished him, and the robed unicorn cursed. “Halden take you, filthy beast!” he growled, before he prepared another spell, only for a blast of green energy to slam into his side.

“Mouse!” Clover yelled, rushing to his side. “Up! I will keep you hale!” she yelled, before a warm light began to surround the dark grey unicorn.

The robe unicorn cursed as he brought a hoof to his head. “You will die for that.”

“Unlikely,” the princess told him before a flash of light filled the room.

Mouse went blind from the light, but felt the pain wash away before a pair of hooves picked him up. “Get up! Up! This is your chance!”

With the short sword still in his grip, Mouse got to his hooves, even as the world spun, white and bright.

He heard the ring of a horn, the sound of magic, and as if flipping a switch, the world snapped into focus.

The robed unicorn had no such help.

Mouse ran up, closing the distance between them, and realized only a moment too late that his sword would not be ready. Their bodies slammed together, and they rolled against the flagstones.

And the robed unicorn was stronger than him. Mouse felt it the moment they began to wrestle, and punches began to fly. Mouse attacked with all his might, throwing his hooves into the would-be-assassin’s face.

And he was answered with a blow that made his ears ring.

He lost all sense of direction. Almost lost his sight. There was only the push of the other unicorn’s body, and the pounding of his opponent’s hooves into his skull.

He tasted blood in his mouth, and he knew he lost a tooth.

And he truly began to regret running into this fight.

He should have let the Princess die.

Then, at least, he would be alive, and perhaps, even free.

Mouse was slammed backwards, and the world re-focused.

The robed unicorn had him by the throat, and his knife was gripped in the golden glow of the robed one’s magic.

“You have annoyed me,” he growled as Mouse struggled to breath. “If you had stayed out of it, we would have let you be, but now I will sacrifice you to our cause.”

Mouse was faintly aware that his short sword was still in his own grip, hovering halfway across the room where he had left it.

It was too far.

“For the Mystic Order!” came the cry, and Mouse prepared himself for the bit of the strange knife.

It cut through fur, bit through flesh, and blood began to flow.

But Mouse felt nothing.

Trying not to lose consciousness, he opened his eye again, and saw the green mare between them.

“Clover!” the Princess cried.

A gurgle escaped her lips.

She...she took the knife for him.

She gave him time.

Using the last of his strength, Mouse pulled the blade toward him, and it obeyed, slicing through the air, and piercing the robed pony’s back.

And all three of them fell to the ground.

Mouse gasped for air, trying to stop his head from swimming, when he saw the figure of Clover moving toward him.

“I’m not...I won’t make it beyond the sewers,” she told him. “Take...take what I have left.”

“Clover!” the Princess yelled again, running towards her.

Already the green mare was casting a new spell, and Mouse could feel his strength returning, and his pain fading.

“Clover! Clover, stop!” the Princess yelled, “we can get help!”

“No, Princess,” Clover replied, her voice weak and fading. “There’s no help for me. I have seen it.”

“You don’t know that!” The Princess said again, her voice, which had been so strong and so steady all throughout the attempt on her life, began to crack. “You will live, so help me!”

“It is written,” Clover answered. “What is written cannot be unwritten, but there is hope.”

“Don’t say that!” she whimpered. “You will live! You have to!”

“Look to Mouse,” Clover replied, her voice barely a whisper. “He will save us all.”

Mouse stood.

The Princess risked one look up. A glance at the one that was to be her savior. This scruffy, emaciated, scared pony who had to be a petty thief at best or a murderer at worst. This pony that her friend had sacrificed everything for.

And Clover the Clever breathed her last.

The Princess shook her head, tears falling from her face. “Halden take you to paradise, my dearest friend…”

Mouse watched, blinking as a strange sense of sadness fell over him.

He didn’t know this mare. He didn’t even like this mare. She was obviously crazy, thinking that he was some sort of hero.

And yet…

Yet she took the knife made for him.

She...at least she believed he was worth something.

And Princess Platinum wept.

She wept over the loss of Equestria’s founders.

The one who had believed in this dream more than any of them.

She wept over her friend and confidant.

Her first, and best friend.

Mouse did not stay long. He lingered a moment or two until he felt uncomfortable, before the Princess finally told him where to go.

“You killed the last one,” she told him sobbing. “You and Clover saved me both.”

He quickly moved onward, taking the last few turns toward freedom. Even still…

Even still he couldn’t help but pause at the wailing of the Princess, weeping over her lost friend.

Perhaps he should have said something.

But what did he have to say?

He didn't know her. He didn’t understand her obsession with him. He didn’t get her at all.

But she saw something...something valuable. She saw value in him and that was something that no one else had ever done, except for the old man…

And...well, he had at least said some words for the old man when he passed away…

“Well…” he muttered, trying to find the right words for the mare that died for him. “T-thank you, Miss Clover,” he said, hoping that was her name. “I won't forget this.”

The words still felt empty.

But it was all he had, so it was all he offered.

Only silence answered him.

And...well...to be fair, that’s all he ever expected.

He liked silence. It was a good sign in prison. It meant that no one was hurting him. It meant there was peace, no matter how short lived it was.

Yet even that was empty.

He stared into the darkness behind him, with the infrequent drip of water and the Princess’ sobs echoing against the stone walls.

He waited a moment, maybe two, before he finally turned.

And his eye caught the light.

Light.

The same light that had peeked through the window of the little cell. The light of that thing called the sun.

His heart began to pound, and he began to move faster, approaching the light faster and faster with each passing second.

He almost panicked when he found the grate. For a moment he thought perhaps the sewers were trying to keep him trapped, separated from the light he had loved since he was a child. He quickly found the gate in the iron bars, however, undid the latch, and pushed forward, swearing to never let bars separate him and the light again.

His vision was flooded with it, and he blinked wildly as his world transformed into a formless, white field.

He blinked some more, and shadows began to form before his eyes.

And then came color, such colors that he had never seen before. The greens of the hillsides, the blues of water and sky, the white of foaming waterfalls, and the gold of wheat.

He sat there, staring at it, mouth open wide.

And he laughed.

You realize that all your life you have been coasting along as if you were in a dream. Suddenly, facing the trials of the last few days, you have come alive.

Chapter 3

Mouse didn’t know how long he ran, how long he rolled in the grass, or how long he slept in the golden light of the sun. When he finally stood, he stank of wild grass and flowers.

He had nothing sweeter in his entire life.

He let the wind play in his mane, letting it dance as fresh scents carried themselves into his nostrils.

This.

This was Equestria.

That word had taken on a meaning now. It meant sunlight, wind, and grass, things that were now more dear to him than anything else he had ever known. It meant freedom, the ability to run, unbarred by walls or bars. It meant that he would never again have to suffer the walls of a prison again.

This was being alive.

He breathed in the smell of the wind, and looked behind him, to see the mountain that he had lived in. A great castle sat, nestled between two walls of stone on the mountain’s side. Tower rose from behind the walls, and a mile of farmland stretched out from in a cone of golden wheat. Red-gold trees stood proud among the fields, and Mouse could only guess this is what fall meant, a time of color and chill, with the threat of winter hidden behind a veil most thin.

At least, that’s how that one poet that got thrown into a nearby cell had described it.

Mouse looked back, at this city that he had been in, before he slowly came to the realization that he didn’t even know he had lived in a mountain. There was only the oppressing, dark walls of the prison, but now he knew.

Simply stepping out of the prison had made him aware of so many things. Things he could never truly understand until now. Things he could not appreciate until he stepped out, and into Equestria.

Into freedom.

He gave another happy sigh before he dipped back into the grass, rolling in the empty field, just to feel the grass against his skin.

After all, there was no one to tell him that he couldn’t. He was free.

“Sir?” a voice said.

Mouse’s head shot up.

A guard stared back at him. The pegasus blinked, confused as he watched a full grown stallion roll in the dirt. “Are you alright?”

Mouse stared at him for a long second, before he turned and ran.

The guard blinked.

Well...that was odd.

It took a while, but Mouse finally decided he would head into town. A part of him wondered what had drawn the ponies there, and likewise, wanted some of it himself.

Besides, there was nothing that said he couldn’t go.

He was free, and no guard or pony could tell him otherwise.

As he got closer and closer to the fortress in the mountain, the houses became more and more frequent, getting denser and denser as he approached the walls. Squat, rough, wooden houses started out in the far reaches of the town, slowly becoming rough, and then smooth stone the further in. The road started a mud, before also becoming cobblestone, becoming more and more civilized as they moved closer.

And the noise.

Noises and sounds he had never heard before, rang in his ears. The hawking of wares, the screams of playing children, the din of work. The only familiar sounds were the clap of hooves on cobblestone and the ring of metal in the air.

Before long, he found himself in a plaza filled with stands, surrounded by buildings that proudly displayed signs that marked their trade.

“My good stallion!” someone called to him. “You look like you could use a nice belt! I have the finest leather in all Canterlot! One silver bit per belt!”

“What’s an armed pony like you doing without armor! Leather, mail, I have it all!”

“Don't waste your time anywhere else! Equestria’s finest rolls are right here!”

“Everyone needs saddlebags! No more than fifteen silver!”

“Pretty necklaces for the wife? Earrings! Bracelets! Everything to keep her happy!”

Mouse blinked wildly as he was assaulted by a thousand merchants, each and everyone selling something they insisted he needed. Clothes, robes, cloaks, bags, bread, knives, and more all were laid before him at the promise of coin, and he felt so overwhelmed by it, he had to duck inside a building.

“Why hello, there,” a soft voice said behind him, and Mouse turned to see a unicorn mare standing behind a counter. She smiled at him softly before speaking again. “Welcome to Opal’s Emporium, how can I help you?”

Mouse blinked, before he wandered over to the counter. “Um...I...I don’t know?” he admitted.

“New in town?” she asked.

Mouse nodded. “Yeah, that’s close enough.”

Opal nodded, and began to come around her counter to lead him around. “We have a little bit of everything here. Weapons, armor, gear, clothes, oddities, jewelry, just let me know, and I’ll get you what you need.”

Mouse blinked, and looked at her wares, eyes glancing over the tools, weapons, and gear she offered. A length of rope was marked for 1GB, and a lamp was being sold for 5SB. The meanings of these weren’t necessarily clear, but from what he guessed, a SB was a silver bit, and a GB was a gold bit, which he could only assume were the coins he had found in the unicorn’s pouch.

It probably would have been easier if the prisoners called them something other than coins.

Three sets of swords hung on a wall, and each set had three swords for a total of nine. They all had shorter blades, yet each one was unique in some way. The first set had long handles, much like the one he had. The second set had a shorter handle, with a large pommel and cross guards shaped like lightning bolts. The third set also had a short handle, but they seemed to glimmer with a strange light about them.

“Um…” Mouse began. “Why are these swords different, if I can ask?”

Opal gave him a look, before she hesitantly offered an explanation. “They’re made in the styles of the races,” she said.

Mouse blinked. “Um...what do you mean by that?”

She gave him another look. “I'm...sorry, do you not know?”

Mouse hesitated. “I—it’s—I—”

"Is this a joke?" she asked, a frown growing on her face as her eyes narrowed.

"No, no, it's not...I..." he began searching for an excuse. "I'm not very well educated is all."

Opal blinked. "O-oh...I..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

“No, no, no. I-I-it’s okay,” she offered suddenly, lest she offend her customer any further. “It’s a...it’s not a problem! It was my mistake,” she added with a smile before sliding over next to him. “These,” she said, pointing to the long-handled short swords, “are built for earth ponies. The long handle is there to help an earth pony grip it in his mouth. The shorter ones with the lightning bolts are pegasi-made, they don’t need as much room, since they can balance well, and the last ones are unicorn made, they need a slightly-different way of forging them so they can be held in a telekinetic grip better.”

Mouse nodded. “Different how?” he asked.

Opal opened her mouth, before frowning. “I don’t actually know, to be honest.”

“Well, can I trade?” Mouse asked, motioning to what he now knew was an earth-pony sword.

“No,” she replied. “The Equestrian Merchant's Guild has a policy on accepting used adventuring equipment. It can only be bought by any guild member for half it’s original market value. You can put it down as a partial payment, however.”

“How much would it cost me, then?”

“Another five gold bits,” she told him.

That was all his money.

“I’ll pass…” he said. “Oh! But I have something.” He reached into his bag and pulled one of the cloaks out of his bag. “Will you take this?”

Opal grabbed the cloak and spread it across her counter. “Well, let’s see, some fine silk...and…”

She frowned.

The star faced her, its four points and horn shining proudly.

Too proudly.

“I can’t take this,” she told him.

“Why, what's wrong with it?” Mouse asked.

“What’s wrong?” she repeated. “What do you mean what’s wrong?”

He blinked, at a complete loss for words. “I...um...I…”

“You really don’t know?” she asked. “What did you grow up in the Dark Wood?”

“Uh...yes?” he lied, trying to find an explanation that wasn't “been a convict for my entire life.”

She blinked, sighed and pointed at the cloak. “Where did you get this?”

His first instinct was to lie. To tell her that he had murdered the unicorn who wore it in order to establish dominance.

His second instinct was to slap that first instinct in the face.

This wasn’t a prison. This was Equestria. This was a land of freedom. He didn’t need to say that.

“I found it on a dead unicorn. One of the guards killed him.”

“Good riddance,” Opal muttered. “Look, all you need to know is that the ponies that wear this star are bad news.”

Mouse slowly rotated the bag at his side, hiding the star against his flank.

She sighed. “Look, you probably only kept this thing because you thought you could sell it, so I’ll tell you what. I’ll buy it, but I’m going to spend a good chunk of money so I can sell this. So despite the fact that it’s silk, I can only buy it for two bits. I know it’s not the best, especially for silk, but it’s all profit for you, right?”

Mouse nodded.

“So do we have a deal?” she asked.

“I guess?” he said.

“Deal!” she said, before she took the cloak, and slid a couple of coins his way.

Mouse pocketed them, but not before staring back at the rack of swords.

“Anything else I can do for you today?” Opal asked.

“Uh...do you have any apples?”

Mouse walked down the road, munching on an apple, trying to discover more about this world of Equestria he found himself in.

Another merchant was trying to get his attention as he finally made it past the plaza and into what would have been downtown.

Mouse passed him by without saying anything, and passed into a quieter portion of the town. More permanent buildings, ones built of cut stone began to crop up, becoming more prevalent the deeper he went.

Of course, with more proper buildings came more guards. As soon as Mouse saw even a hint of the armor-clad pegasi, he ducked into a nearby alleyway. He pressed himself into the shadows, and clung to the walls, hiding from the guards.

He didn’t want to be recognized and sent back to his cell, in case the Princess’ pardon was a lie.

He waited until the pegasus passed him, before ducking back into the main street.

Only to meet another patrol of pegasi.

A wave of panic crashed over him, and fear gripped him. His heart began to pound in his chest, and his eyes searched for anywhere he could hide.

An open door offered shelter, and he ran inside. He closed the door behind him, terrified, and stared out the window, watching the guards as they passed by.

“Hello!” a voice said behind him, making him jump.

He turned, and saw an earth pony mare and an older stallion behind a counter.

He blinked, his heart still pounding, before he gathered himself and spoke. “Um...hello…”

“Hello!” The mare repeated, looking at him with a touch of suspicion now. “Welcome to the Keystone inn, how can I help you?”

Like many things, Mouse had heard about an inn from fellow prisoners. Shops were places where ponies bought things, which meant they had money that could be stolen. Houses were where ponies lived, and kept all their valuables. An inn was a place to buy a room, food, and wait out heat from the guards.

And avoiding the guards sounded like a very nice thing.

“Um...yes. I’d like a room,” he said.

“Of course!” she said. “Our rooms are a gold bit per day, and our gourmet chef offers meals at 27 copper bits, or 8 silver for three.”

Mouse nodded. 18 silver per day. That wasn’t bad. Running in here seemed to be rather lucky, all things considered.

It was evening now, and with the sun going down, and his stomach eager for food, everything that the Keystone inn offered sounded exactly like what he wanted. “I can do that,” he said.

“Wonderful,” the mare replied.

Three days passed. Three days of three meals that Mouse could have only dreamed of, and four nights of sleeping on a bed so soft it felt like he was flying.

However, as the fourth day dawned, Mouse became aware of a problem. He had one gold, 6 silver, and 3 copper left.

That was not enough for another day.

That wasn’t enough for today.

As Mouse walked down to the main room which served as both a foyer and dining room, he found Cinnamon Stick, the mare who had greeted him a few days ago, and the daughter of the owner.

“Good morning, Miss Cinnamon,” he said.

“Morning, Mr. Mouse,” she answered.

“Uh...I don’t suppose you can answer a question for me?” he asked.

“I might be able to,” she told him.

“What’s the best way to make some money here?”

"Well, there's always the Dark Wood company."

The Dark Wood Company building stood proudly in the middle of downtown. Cinnamon described them as a mercenary guild of sorts, taking the odd jobs that the guards could or would not. Most of time, according to Cinnamon, that meant forays into the Dark Woods for which they were named.

The building itself was a smooth, white stone. From the front of it hung a pinewood sign, with a black tree burned into its surface to designate it as the Company’s Chapter Headquarters. The heavy oak door towered over his slightly shorter frame, and he could swear he heard the sounds of fighting just beyond the door.

Opening the door just a crack, he peered inside to see a small gathering of ponies, two of which were wrestling across the floor. None of the others there moved to stop them, but stood, watching as they punched, kicked, and choked each other as the rolled.

Finally pushing the door open, Mouse stepped in, taking the whole scene in. The smell of booze and the ring of steel practically filled every particle of the air, and Mouse started to get a very “guard” feel from them.

“Easy, Copper,” a giant earth pony said, watching the earth pony and pegasus were beating each other. “We want the both of you walking after this.”

The pegasus suddenly countered with a right hook, taking dominance as he rolled the earth pony under him.

“There ya go, Polar! That’s it! Show him what that pegasus blood gives ya!”

“Hey!” the earth pony, Copper, if Mouse had to guess, yelled even as he was being punched. “I thought you were rootin’ for me!”

“I’ve trained the both of you!” the earth pony laughed. “You’re both my dogs!”

The earth pony drew his hind legs beneath him, and kicked the pegasus into the air, sending him flying into the air, and landing at Mouse’s hooves.

“Well, well!” The giant earth pony said. “We have ourselves some new meat!”

The pegasus rolled to his hooves. “Heh! More punchin’ bags!”

“He’s not in yet,” the earth pony said, marching up to the pegasus. “We don’t even know if he’s here to join or not, feather brain!”

The pegasus blinked, and groaned. “Right...sorry, sir.”

The earth pony sighed. “Forget him, he’s not the brightest candle here, and don’t let him scare you off, either.”

Mouse stared up at the mass of flesh that was the earth pony.

“Name’s Cedar, Champion of the Canterlot Branch of the Dark Wood Company. The pegasus with the big mouth is Polar Wind, the earth pony is Copper Oak, and the rest of them should be doing their jobs!”

A flash of guilt spread across the faces of the gathered ponies before they quickly scattered, all going off to find a job to do.

Cedar smirked. "Now, what can I help you with?"

“Um…” Mouse began, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea. “I’m looking for work.”

“What?” Copper asked. “A little runt like you?”

Cedar shot him a glare, and the pony withered beneath his stare.

“Don’t mind him,” Cedar grunted. “We’re the Dark Wood Company. We take anyone who’s willing to pledge their blades.”

"Or, you know, we could use someone to sort files for us," Polar said. "He's a unicorn so he should be good at that."

Cedar sighed, and his hoof went to face.

Mouse said nothing.

Cedar recovered. “Come on! Let me show you around! Copper, take this stallion's bag and put it somewhere safe.”

"Yes sir," Copper said, as he looked Mouse up and down a few more times.

"Come on and follow me, Mister..."

"Uh, Mouse, sir."

"Your name's Mouse?" Copper said. "And you want to join us?"

Cedar gave him another withering glare, and Copper ducked beneath it, trying to get out of the champion's sight as fast as he could.

"Come on, then, Mr. Mouse," Cedar said with a smile, "and let me welcome you to the Dark Wood Company."

Mouse followed as the Giant of an earth pony led him deeper into the building.

“We do our best to meet all the needs of company members,” Cedar said. “We have beds, food, we even have our own smith to repair and maintain your gear.”

They came around a corner, and Mouse did, indeed, find himself staring a forge.

“Well…” Mouse began. “I…”

“Look,” Cedar said. “I know that the others think you’re going to be nothing more that a punching bag, but Dark Wood Company was built on the idea that anypony can fight. We’re not the guard, where being anything other than a pegasi means you get stuck with the worst jobs ‘cause they don’t expect you to do well. I mean, it's not like the rest of the Old World didn't have warriors. No, we’re better than that."

And yet, “guard” was the only thing that Mouse could see. The heavy armor reminded him of the crushing, armored hooves that kicked him in the dungeons. The swords became the glistening blades of the wardens, keeping the prisoners at bay. Even Cedar’s heavy build reminded him of a particularly vicious pegasus that made a young Mouse lick his shoes.

But Mouse said nothing.

Cedar led him all the way through the building. Showing him the upper and lower levels, along with the training hall, barracks, and offices.

And Mouse said nothing.

Cedar was beginning to frown as they came back around to the front room, and when they finally made it back to the door, he had almost given up. Still, offering his best smile, he turned and offered a final word to the unicorn. “Well, what do you think?”

Mouse frowned.

He looked left, where the mess hall was, then right, at the training room.

And he felt so wrong.

“I think I’ll pass…” he said.

Cedar nodded, before his smile returned full force. “Ah, don’t worry about it. It's your choice, after all. If you change your mind, we’ll still be here!”

Mouse nodded, before he slipped through the door, and out.

Cedar’s smiled faded, and the giant pony sighed. He let his head hang for a minute, before he turns to the mess hall.

“Polar! Copper! You’re getting latrine duty for a week!”

Mouse returned to the Keystone inn, head hung in defeat.

Cinnamon was waiting for him. “How’d it go?”

Mouse shook his head. “I don’t think it’s for me,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that, do you want me to get you your dinner?”

Mouse paused. “Uh...no, thank you...I...had something while I was out.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, yeah…” he said as he began to walk upstairs to his room.

It was no big deal.

He had gone hungry before.

Chapter 4

He had a plan.

As Mouse stepped out of the Keystone Inn, he went straight for the market, striding with purpose. He was going to get a job, he was going to get some money, and he was going to eat food, and sleep on a wonderful bed.

It was going to be easy.

His first stop was with Opal, the mare from the store he had walked into a few days ago. Getting her to agree to hire him should be easy enough. Especially with how the Dark Wood Company had been so eager to take him.

He took a few turns, and strode confidently into Opal’s Emporium, and gave his best smile as she greeted him. “Hello! And welcome to Opal’s Emporium.”

“Hello Opal!” Mouse said. “I would like to work.”

She blinked.

Mouse smiled.

“Um...I’m not hiring…” she said.

And then Mouse blinked. “What?”

“I’m not hiring. I can barely afford this shop, I can’t afford another employee. So no.”

“O-o-oh…” Mouse said. “Um…”

Opal stared at him.

“I...uh...I guess I’ll just go...then…” he said, before he backed out of store.

“Come again!” she answered.

Mouse nodded, and closed the door behind him, letting the sounds of the market echo surround him.

“Well...I have some other ideas!” Mouse told himself. “I’ll be fine!”

Besides, this was Equestria! This wasn’t the dungeons! These were good ponies who cared about each other! He’d find something to do!

A mighty earth pony brought his hammer down on the glowing, red, metal. “Ya want to be what now?”

“I want to work for you,” Mouse said.

The hammer came down again, smashing into the hot metal as he brought it down on the anvil. “A little late for an apprenticeship, isn’t?” he asked.

“Uh…” Mouse began.

What’s an apprenticeship?

“Yeah, but...um...better late than never, right?”

The blacksmith gave Mouse a long look. “Fine...what’s yer mark?”

“Mark?” Mouse repeated.

“Aye, the unfortunately named Cutie Mark,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“Um, well,” Mouse began, and began to turn.

“You ain’t got one?” the blacksmith noticed.

“No, I—”

“Then I don’t have the time to teach you,” the earth pony growled.

“But I—”

“Look, I’ve been working as a blacksmith my whole life. You’re already at least sixteen years behind, if you don’t have the talent for it, I can’t take you.”

The tailor was next on the list.

Mouse found himself staring at a very busy pegasus mare that floated around her shop as she worked with fine, unicornian silks and the cloud-soft cloths of the pegasi. “Can...can I work for you please?” he asked.

The pegasus barely looked up at him, but instead pointed to a jacket that she seemed to be working on. “Sew three buttons on that jacket in one minute. Do that, and the job’s yours.”

Mouse nodded, before he turned to the cloth, and grabbed both cloth, needle, thread and buttons. He quickly threaded the needle, and stabbed the button through the hole, before pulling it through the cloth.

And the thread pulled through.

Mouse blinked in confusion, before a quick look at another working seamstress proved that he needed to knot the end of the thread.

An honest mistake for a pony that had just seen needle for the first time.

He tied the end of the thread, and began again, trying to sew the button to the jacket. He was doing well, until he got to the point where the thread he was sewing got too short to maneuver the needle.

With no other option, he cut the thread. But he had learned, and was now desperately trying to tie a knot.

The thread, however, refused to work with him. It would not make a knot. The end split and when he finally was able to pull it tight, a huge thread hung from the end left over.

He had just enough time to begin a second before the tailor called him over. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve done.”

Mouse didn’t want to show her.

The pegasus held out her hoof. “Come on, dear. I need to save time, not waste it.”

With little choice, he handed her the cloth.

She took one look at it, and popped the button off with a gentle pull. The pegasus shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. If that’s what you call needlework, I simply can’t take you.”

Mouse didn’t blame her.

“Best of luck!” she said, as Mouse made his way out.

The green grocer wasn’t hiring, the leather worker wasn’t impressed with him. Within the following two hours, Mouse had gone through eight different jobs, and none of them would take him. Every single one rejected him outright.

He was coming to the end of his rope. With a little more than 6 silver to his name, he wouldn’t even be able to feed himself the whole day, and even skipping meals, it wouldn’t be enough to keep him long. What's more, there was an odd, terrible feeling that something was working against him. That not only were the ponies refusing him, but that another, almost insidious force was going to keep him poor.

He had one more chance, though. One more opportunity to find a job and keep his bed.

With nothing else to hold him back, Mouse walked into the tavern of the young city of Canterlot, the Howling Dragon.

“Welcome! Welcome!” The purple earth pony stallion behind the bar greeted. “What can Ole’ Punch do for ya?”

Mouse kept his head low. “I’d...I’d like a job, sir…”

“Alright!” Punch replied, before waving him over to the bar. “So come here and tell me what you can do!”

“I-I’m willing to do anything sir. Even if it’s just cleaning the floors,” Mouse said, his voice a desperate whisper as he hoped beyond hope that this would be his salvation.

“Already got one of those, lad,” Punch said. “But don’t worry, I’ll find something for ya.”

Mouse nodded.

“Can ya cook?” Punch said.

Mouse had already learned that “rat” wasn’t an acceptable answer. “No, sir,” he replied.

“Can ya sing?”

“No.”

“Can ya brew?”

“Never tried it, sir.”

“Hm…” Punch muttered. “You’re not giving me much to work with, son.”

“I don’t have much, sir…” Mouse muttered, his eyes glued to the floor as his will lay shattered.

Punch shook his head. “You’re not doing yerself any favors with that kind of talk, boy. Come on, what can you do?”

Mouse shook his head.

“Oh come on! Ya can serve at least!”

“Please…” Mouse begged.

“Here,” Punch sighed. “Try this,” he said, handing the unicorn a tray.

Mouse took it, terrified and apprehensive. He shook as he gripped the tray. It shook and anyone with eyes could see that any glass set on would be emptied in seconds.

Punch gave the unicorn a look. “You know, lad...by the look of you, you’ve had a tough day.”

Mouse looked up, shaking, fear obvious in his eyes.

“L-look, just come back tomorrow. You’ll be fresh, and ready for a new day and we can try again. Sound fair?”

Mouse sighed. “Y-yeah...that sounds fine…” he muttered.

“There ya go,” Punch said, taking the tray back. “Just come back tomorrow. Besides, it’ll give you time to think about it.”

Mouse nodded. “Y-yes sir…”

Mouse wandered the cold streets of Canterlot.

It was dark out, and the moon hung above the city like a chandelier hanging from a navy blue ceiling.

He had no place to be.

No bed to sleep in.

No roof over his head.

He was cold and alone, with only 6 silver coins to keep him company.

He didn’t return to the Keystone Inn, he didn’t have the money. The only thing he could do was slink out towards the outskirts, and hope to find a place to sleep.

He walked with his head hung low, sighing with every step.

Maybe...maybe he didn’t belong out here. Maybe the freedom of Equestria wasn’t meant for him. This was just the world teaching him that the world couldn’t take his presence here.

“Back! Back to your cell, prisoner!”

Finally, Mouse found a place, a tiny, broken down log shack that moaned in the evening wind.

It took a moment or two, but with a quick spell and the ring of green magic, the old lock popped open, and the old, dusty door swung open on rusty hinges. Sighing, he walked in, before closing the door behind him.

Another glow from his horn, and the lock shut again, locking him inside the old abandoned house.

Rolling up into a ball, Mouse reached into his bag, and pulled out the cloak he had left.

Wrapping it around him, with the star pointed toward him in case anypony came around, he settled in for a night.

It was the best he had.

And a shadow watched him from the corner.

The morning was chilly, but bright.

Mouse was up and ready, hungry, but ready.

He could do it. He would march straight to the Howling Dragon, and he and Punch would talk it over.

He would impress Punch. He would get the job. He would make money. He would get some food, and a place to sleep.

If he did that, then at the very least, at the very least, he would make it out here.

He packed his cloak and blade into the bag at his side, and prepared himself.

He took to the street, stepping outside and locking the door behind him. With a smile he all but ran for the tavern, eager to prove himself to Punch, the stallion that was more than willing to give him a chance.

Even though it was still early, the street was bustling. Mares and stallion walked this way and that, crossing the street as the market stalls opened, with wares displayed proudly. Merchants already began to hawk their wares, showing them off to passers by as they stumbled to their jobs so early in the morning.

Mouse let all this pass by without a second glance, he was a stallion on a mission. He was going straight to the Howling Dragon, and he was going to talk directly to Punch, nopony else.

A figure, a short, young stallion, suddenly shot across Mouse’s path, and the two ponies collided.

Mouse stumbled, before getting his hooves under him.

“Oh!” the smaller one said, gripping Mouse as the two nearly pitched over. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” Mouse said, pushing himself away. “I have to go.”

“Good luck!” the smaller pony said, before he ducked away.

Mouse ignored him, returning to his purpose.

Go to the Howling Dragon, talk with Punch, get the job, enjoy freedom. Go to the Howling Dragon, talk with Punch, get the job, enjoy freedom.Go to the Howling Dragon, talk with Punch, get the job, enjoy freedom.

He repeated the mantra over and over again, whispering to himself as though it were some kind of spell. With every repetition, he felt his spirit rise, climbing from the pits it had wallowed in just a few hours ago.

He was going to make it.

He was going to get the job.

He was going to—

Why was the Howling Dragon on fire?

Punch sat in front of the burning Tavern as a bucket line splashed water onto the flames as they quickly spread across the wooden building.

A bell began to sound, ringing frantically.

Yells and screams began to grow from behind him, and Mouse saw other ponies rush to the tavern, with a handful of unicorns throwing icy spells at the growing flames.

And Punch simply sat there, staring as his livelihood went up in flames.

Mouse walked up, blinking as he watched his only hope of a job burn.

A small explosion, the result of one the beautiful kegs Punch had kept lighting under compression, sent the flames higher.

“They’ll never stop it in time…” Punch muttered. “The best they can do is keep the other buildings from going up…”

Mouse shook his head. How did this happen? Why? Why would someone burn down the tavern?

And then he saw it.

He didn’t catch it at first, the flames were hiding the writing that had been scrawled on the wall, but there it was. Written in bubbling, black paint, right next to the door, were the words “Go Home Mudblood.”

Mouse said nothing.

He had nothing to say.

Instead, he sat.

Because it was the only thing he could do.

Mouse sighed and resigned himself to returning to the abandoned shack, not that there were many places to go.

Of all the taverns, of all the possible employers, it had to be Punch's place that burned to the ground. That was a stroke of bad luck that Mouse had not seen in a long, long time. In fact, if he were honest, the only thing that could have been on par with it was the circumstance of his own birth.

He hated his luck sometimes.

Still, things could be worse, he supposed. He could have had everything he held dear go up in smoke. The look on Punch's face as he watched the Howling Dragon burn was filled with such despair that for a brief time, Mouse forgot his own problems. In fact, the unicorn had felt so bad for his would-be employer, that he offered his meager six silver for a meal.

Ole’ Punch, in return, told him to keep it. “You might need it more than me…”

Mouse sighed again.

He bought some lunch, and sat by the street, waiting for night to come. Guards ran past him, but Mouse didn’t care anymore.

He had no other options.

He sat there by the street, back to a building, watching as the world went on around him. Ponies walked this way and that, moving on with their lives, and he sat here, with barely enough coin to buy one more meal.

A passing mare threw a copper piece at him.

It seemed to mock him.

By the time the sun had set, Mouse was a whole three copper richer, and had no pride left to spare.

He picked the lock to his shack and walked into the old, drafty home.

With a sigh, he pulled out his cloak, and wrapped himself in it’s soft, silk embrace. Another day of freedom, and it was already throwing him out. Was there even a point? Or was this just the terrible price of living in the sun?

With nothing else to do, He went to sleep, hoping that maybe tomorrow would save him.

Mouse sighed as he stirred.

He didn’t want to wake up.

He didn’t want to face the harshness of the morning.

His stomach growled.

Groaning, Mouse stood, already tired.

And then his eyes opened, and they caught the golden gleam of the bit at his hooves.

His mouth dropped at the sight of the single, golden coin that shone on the floor.

Mouse had heard of the gods before. Yet it wasn’t until then, right then, as he stared at the single golden coin, that he ever thought of believing in them.

Chapter 5

The red onion soup that Mouse ate that midday was the best meal in a long time. The sliced, red rings were caramelized, and the broth was rich, and seasoned with rosemary and basil.

Of course, it helps that hunger makes the best seasoning.

Mouse desperately wanted to spend more, to buy the rolls of bread to go with it, the carrots, the daffodil brandy, and so much more. But he had just a little more than a gold now, and he needed to make it stretch for as long as he could.

He’d have to stay in the old abandoned house, but if he could feed himself, then he was moving in the right direction.

Just to be sure, he double checked his coins. 1 gold, 1 silver, and eight copper bits. If he ate this onion soup once per day, then he could last eleven days. It wouldn’t be the best, and he would certainly be sick of onions by the end of it, but beggars can’t be choosers.

He could do it. He had eaten worse that than. He had eaten less than that, and it would give him more time to try and find some kind of source of income. All he had to do was find something.

He sighed, before his eyes fluttered up to the mare behind the counter. “What about you? Do you have any work for me?”

The mare blinked. “I…no...I-I have some odd jobs you could do for a silver, but not a real job.”

Mouse sighed. “Well...I might as well, right?”

“You could,” a voice said behind him, “or you can do one for me for five times the price.”

Mouse turned, and he blinked as he saw a young, short stallion that looked vaguely familiar. The short pony smiled beneath his hood, and Mouse could swear that he winked from beneath the cowl.

“What’s the job?” Mouse asked.

“Nothing hard, but you might sweat a bit,” the shorter pony said.

Mouse blinked. Was that…?

“So…” Mouse began. “Are you telling me you need some hired help for a heave?”

The hooded stallion smiled a little wider. “Looks like we’re speaking the same language.”

They were. A simple little code used by thieves, and the second language of the jail. “Thanks, but...I just left the guesthouse, I’m not looking to play the game. I think that the whole line of work is a bit too boring,” he said, letting the short stallion know that thieving was too risky for his taste. He only recently got of jail, and wasn’t interested in going back.

“So instead you’re going to angle for coppers?” he asked. “Look, I’m not asking you to hoist anything. We just need another pair of eyes. You can do that.”

No stealing. Just watch.

"My health's waning these days," Mouse explained. "My eyes aren't what they used to be."

I don't want to be a thief. I'm trying to stay out of trouble.

"You're mane's not grey, old timer. You're joints may creak a bit, but if you don't exercise you'll never limber up."

You don't have much choice now do you? Besides, you may take a liking to it if you try.

Mouse swallowed.

He...he could be a lookout. It would pay...

“What if it get’s a little too hot?” Mouse asked.

“Don’t worry about it. I know some coves that can amuse the birds, and with a little expense money, you’d get to go home.”

A lie. A bribe. He’d walk free.

“What’s does the job make?” Mouse asked.

What are we stealing?

The short stallion smirked. “That’s for the gentlecolts to know, but I’ll tell ya what. We’re going to to doing some flag waving down in the ken past the academy at two past a cleaning. Can you make that?”

We’re going to be planning in the house next to the brothel two hours after sunset, if you want the job, be there.

“Yeah…” Mouse said. “I can make that.”

The short stallion nodded. “Great. See you there. Do a good enough job, and you might get a share of the stuffing.”

Mouse nodded, and then he returned to his soup.

You don't need to do this.

It was a simple, reoccurring thought that rang through his mind like the town bell.

You've only been looking for a job for two days, you can make a living without turning to crime.

It was a nice thought, but Mouse wasn't sure. Every job he turned to had refused him, and the one other job that did, the one chance he had, was burned to the ground.

A part of him blamed fate for that. Growing up, Mouse had cursed fate for leaving him in the prison, forgotten by anyone that cared, but that was an old excuse that Mouse knew didn't fix anything.

You can be an honest pony.

He wanted to be. He wanted that to be true.

But the only chance he found in two days literally went up in smoke.

Besides...it was only one job.

You can last long enough without him. You can find another job.

Could he, though? Could he find another job before the money ran out? Even if he went hungry again there was no guarantee that he would find a job. If it went on long enough, then he'd be starving again, stealing just to eat.

And...well...if it was going to lead there anyway...

Besides, it was just one job.

It was fifteen minutes to two hours after sunset. It was dark, but the lively sound of gentlecolts enjoying themselves in the old red building with a sign, marked by the face of a mare drinking from a golden goblet.

Mouse walked past the old, red building, trying to ignore pleasured squeals and grunts of the mares and stallions inside. Instead, he focused on the unassuming house next door. It looked neither is well repair, nor dilapidated, it simply was.

Of course, Mouse supposed that its what a bunch of thieves would want in a house.

With little else to do, Mouse walked up the simple, wooden door, and knocked twice.

The door creaked open, and a dark-coated mare glared at him from inside the house. “Can I help you?”

“I’m the extra pair of eyes,” he said.

She looked him up and down, before calling. “Is this the guy you hired?” she asked.

The short stallion from before poked through, and smiled. “That’s the one.”

The mare snorted, before opening the door. “Get in here.”

Mouse nodded, and slipped inside. The bare, empty house was dark, almost darker than the outside but for a warm, orange light that danced along the hallway walls.

“Come on,” the stallion said, motioning Mouse to follow, “we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

The stallion and the mare led Mouse inside what would be a living room.Two more ponies sat in the room, staring up at him as he entered.

“Gentlecolts, this is our new lookout," the short stallion said, making the barest of introductions.

“Sure we can trust him?” one of the new thieves asked. His chestnut coat was broken by a handful of scars, and one of his eyes had been ruined by a wound from years ago.

“He know’s the cant,” the short stallion said. “That’s better than most beggars we pull in, certainly. Besides, have you ever known me to pick the wrong pony for the job?”

The other stallion spoke up. He was as tall as the chestnut stallion, but his own coat was a midnight blue. There was not a scar on his body, but he did have a large, gold tooth in the front of his smile. “Yeah, but can we trust him?”

“If he wants his bits he will,” the short stallion answered.

The mare grunted. “You’re gonna get us killed you know that?”

The short stallion smirked. “Nah, what we have is too good for that. At worst it's the guesthouse for a night or two.”

The scarred stallion grunted. “Alright, what’s yer name, lookout?”

“They call me Mouse,” he offered.

The gold-toothed thief laughed. “You want to go with that?”

Mouse said nothing. He didn't really have anything better anyway.

“Alright, ‘Mouse,’” the mare grunted, “pay attention, we’re only going to explain this once.”

The thieves all looked down at the set of plans that vaguely defined a building. “We’re hitting a warehouse, the owner’s some unicorn trade baron, and we need to take him down a peg, and empty his pockets at the same time,” the short stallion instructed. “All that’s our business. All you need to do is stand out on the northwest corner, and make sure the birds don’t show up.”

“And if they do show up?” Mouse asked.

“Either get them to leave, or, if you can’t, let us know the heat’s coming. Can you do that?”

Mouse swallowed. “I...I can.”

“Good,” the short stallion said, before handing three silver bits over. “Once we leave, you’re on your own. Don’t worry about the rest of the cash, we’ll find you, and square up. And remember, do well, and a little more will come your way. Understand?”

Mouse nodded.

“Glad you can follow along,” the short stallion said, before turning to the others. “Let’s go.”

The thieves led Mouse down to the foot of the mountain, where a large, wooden building sat waiting.

“Alright,” the short stallion said, as he looked up the wall. “Stay here, and let us know if the birds show up. We'll be in and out in twenty minutes at least. You'll hear a whistle when we're done. You ready?”

Mouse nodded, and the four thieves slipped into the shadows. With a few leaps, and the aid of a rope, they climbed up to one of the high, glass-less windows along the roof of the wooden building, and they slid inside.

And Mouse stood outside, and waited.

It was quieter here. Much quieter. There were no brothels or taverns nearby, only the empty houses of a hoof-full of businesses, all closed, most for several hours now. A single street lamp, lit this dark stretch of road, but it was dark, and flickering.

He looked left, down the road, into the darkness.

He looked right, and the darkness met him again.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Still nothing approached from the darkness.

“So far, so good,” Mouse thought to himself.

A few moments passed in the utter, complete silence that dominated the darkness, and Mouse released a single, shaky breath. And then he heard something

Chunk, chunk, chunk.

Mouse blinked as he heard the sound.

That unmistakable sound of armored hooves marching down stone.

His breath caught in his throat, and he began to back up, trying to find a shadow to hide in.

“And that’s how I saved the whole town from a whole Bramble Bite invasion!” one of the guards said, flying over the cobblestone streets. The pegasus had a brilliant shock of dull orange hair, and his coat was a dark red. His face was caught in a smug grin, even as he stroked his own ego more and more with each passing sentence.

For every ounce of pride in the pegasus’ voice, the earth pony mare that walked beside him held an equal ounce of contempt. She rolled her eyes, even as she scanned the shadows along the street. She also wore the golden armor of the guards, and she wore a long-handled earth pony sword at her side. Her white coat shone in the lamplight, and her golden hair almost sparkled. “Sure you did,” she mumbled up at the pegasus beside her.

“Yeah, it was pretty dangerous, but it wasn’t that big of a deal,” the pegasus continued, smirking the entire way.

The earth pony continued to scan the darkness, before she suddenly locked eyes directly into him. “Hey! You!”

The pegasus stopped, and tried to follow her gaze as she stared at Mouse.

“What are you doing out here at this hour?” The earth pony demanded.

Mouse froze, even as the pegasus locked onto him. He felt his heart freeze in his chest as both guards stared at him. His brain panicked, running in circles as it tried to come up with an answer.

Any answer.

The guards began to move closer. “Sir?”

Something!

Anything!

“I-I was hired.”

“Hired?” The mare asked. “Hired to do what?”

Mouse began to panic harder. Why, oh why did he have to say that? Why not just admit that he was working with some thieves? That would be so much better, wouldn’t it?

“Hired...hired to watch, ma’am,” Mouse said, trying to fill the silence so he wouldn’t get in trouble.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I...was hired to watch the building,” Mouse said. “The owner was worried that perhaps someone would break in tonight, so he’s paying me three silver to watch it for him.”

The mare squinted.

“I...I’m just desperate, sirs...I didn’t mean to bother such important ponies as yourselves,” Mouse continued, hoping the flattery would keep them from digging further.

The pegasus smiled. “Not to worry, citizen. We are simply here to try and keep Equestria safe. In fact, I’d say you’d have the easy job, since we keeps the streets so safe.”

“I completely agree, good sir,” Mouse said, as his heart pounded in his chest.

The mare kept staring at him.

Mouse almost withered beneath her glare, before he tried again to direct her attention away. “I...I have to say, I haven’t seen many earth pony guards, do you think they have room for me?”

“Not likely, citzen,” the pegasus said, taking the center stage. “The guard’s having a hard enough time getting these good, simple folk integrated,” he said, pointing over to the mare.

Her withering glare turned to pegasus.

“I mean, unless you somehow get Princess Platinum’s eye, it’s probably not going to happen,” the pegasus finished, unaware of the ire he earned from his partner.

“Oh, well, I-I was just curious, sirs,” Mouse said, as meekly as possible.

“Worry not citizen,” the pegasus said, “We’re here to keep you safe.”

“I-it’s appreciated, sirs,” Mouse replied.

“Come along, Golden!” the pegasus said. “We have more streets to keep safe!”

The earth pony mare said nothing, but gave Mouse one last look, before she continued on her way.

Mouse watched them go, before he released a shaky, nervous breath. How he ever managed that, he would never know.

He noticed his hooves were shaking. He took a few deep, careful breaths, and slowly, eventually stilled himself.

And it was just him and the darkness.

It took another few minutes, before he heard a whistle behind him.

A quick glance behind revealed the short, cloaked stallion, who waved him away before running into the darkness..

It seemed their job was done.

A flood of relief washed over him, and Mouse sighed, before he began walking back towards his little abandoned shack. He kept to the shadows himself, actively avoiding the street lamps as he navigated away from the warehouse, past the brothel, and finally to his own, small house.

A quick spell to pick the lock, and he walked inside, and locked the door behind him. He sighed as he unfurled the cloak he was using as a blanket, and wrapped himself up, as he prepared to go to sleep.

Now, he just needed to get paid.

The next day, Mouse sat at the same onion soup stand, and gratefully ate the sweet, onion broth. So far there had been no sign of the short stallion, but they had said that they would find him, so he waited.

The thought of a double-cross did pass his mind, but if living in the dungeon taught him anything, it was that the thieves could be trusted, especially when they were bringing you in for a job. A contact was better than yet another pony out for your blood, after all.

He slurped his soup, enjoying the caramelized rings, when a figure sat beside him. “You did a good job, Mouse, just like I knew you would,” he said, before ordering some soup himself. “I have to say, my Boss is really impressed with how you amused the birds. Grade A work, right there.”

Mouse nodded. “I’m glad you think so.”

The short stallion slid a couple of silver bits his way. “No, you don’t understand, my Boss is very impressed.”

Mouse glanced over to the stallion beside him, who stared at him with a deadly serious glint in his eye.

The thief turned back to his soup. “Let me introduce myself, Mouse. The name’s Cut Purse, and I am a part of an organization that moves things. To be honest with you, you weren’t the only pair of eyes we had out there, but they were out there to watch you.

“The truth is, you did a good job, you amused birds, and the rest of us got all the stuffing we needed, and more.” Cut Purse slid a could of more coins Mouse’s way. “Now the good news is that we just might some more heavy lifting jobs in the future, and you’ve certainly made enough of an impression that we want you to be that hired help. How’s that sound?”

Mouse stared at the money a long time, he took the bonus before saying. “Look, it’s nothing personal, but the business you want to do is too boring. I don’t want to get back in the guest house.”

“At this rate,” Cut Purse said, “You’re not going to find another job like this. We’ve got the coin you need to stay afloat, and you just might be the heavy lifter we need.”

Mouse said nothing.

"Look, Mouse, I remember when I saw you the other day. I saw enough to know that you were looking to work for Ol' Punch when his place burned down. Now I've met enough beggars to know that was some real bad luck."

Mouse looked at him.

"But you get hit with a streak of bad luck, and then, I come along, offering you a place with some of the best gentlecolts in Canterlot. Not everpony gets that shot. In fact, there are a bunch of ponies I know that would call you downright lucky for the chance. This, Mouse is your chance. We're going to get you what you really need, some good luck. We'll get you cash, a place to stay, everything. You won't have to beg another day in your life. So what are you going to say to a chance to change your luck?"

Mouse looked away, choosing to stare into his bowl.

Cut Purse sighed. “Alright, look, how about this. You come be our pair of eyes for the next few jobs, we pay you fair, make sure you get home, and keep your spot open. If you think that the business we have is still too boring for the pay, then you’re free to leave, no hard feelings, no strings, just business.”

Mouse stayed quiet.

“I need an answer,” Cut said.

Mouse swallowed hard. “Fine,” he whispered. “Fine.”

Cut smiled. “I knew you were a brave soul. Tonight, the same ken right when it’s getting clean. Be there,” Cut said, before sliding over his bowl of soup, and a golden bit to boot. “This is on me, get a cloak or something.”

Mouse eagerly took both.

Mouse stood outside the building the Cut and his gang were cleaning, clothed in his dark, wool cloak, hood over his head as he watched the darkness of the street from within the shadows of the alleys. He kept quiet, staring at the cobblestones with careful eyes.

This was a bad idea.

He should just leave and find an honest job. Real ponies had honest jobs. They didn’t steal or sneak around to make a living, they worked in shops, traded goods, performed services.

Yet he could not. Those jobs did not want him.

Instead, he found himself here. Pushed out of normal society and forced to work with thieves and low lives.

Sneaking and staying in the same shadows that had accompanied him since birth.

Still…

It would have been nice.

Chapter 6

Another night, and Mouse had one more job for Cut Purse’s boss. The money had been good, as promised, and for the second time in his life, Mouse had a full belly. All he had to do was keep the money so it would stay that way.

It was three weeks since Cut had brought him in, and despite his initial misgivings, Mouse had found himself taking to dirty work like a fish to water. Between his own talent, and the time he spent standing on street corners, the job was becoming oddly routine.

He'd get up, eat breakfast, prepare himself, eat lunch, wait for Cut and the others, and then eat dinner once the job was done. Every job only got better as he went on, with the work he had to do becoming easier and easier with all the practice he was getting.

Now if only he enjoyed it.

Cut simply smiled, said that Mouse was doing well, and he kept whispering good things into the Boss’ ear.

But he still wanted an honest living.

"At least I'm not the one stealing anything," he thought, "I'm just making money, I'm not hurting anyone."

A part of him sad it was a sad excuse.

Tonight’s job was a rich pony’s house. A manor on the edge of town that had at one point stood alone before the rest of the town began to grow around it. A handful of buildings stood around it now, along with a street that ran across what was once a lovely front yard. Now, the whole building looked simply out of place.

The whole thing belonged to some lesser Unicornian noble that moved to Equestria to climb the new social ranks or something like that. Still, he was the target, and he was going to be meeting a rather unfortunate set of events after losing a good chunk of cash to a random theft while he was out of town.

Mouse almost smiled at the thought.

He didn’t know why but the thought of taking the bits of the especially wealthy made him smile. Cut Purse said that, technically speaking they were the only ones worth robbing, mostly because they had the most stuff to take. Everypony else was small time.

The only problem Mouse could see, was that when you take the food from the biggest inmate, they tend to be a bit rough about getting it back.

But, this wasn’t his fight. He was just here to make sure the guards didn’t break up the prison fight before it got going.

The shadows hugged him and his cloak, and he debated whether or not to whisper a prayer to the goddess of the night like Cut Purse and the other thieves offered.

He decided against it. Instead he focused on the darkness around him, keeping an out open for any suspicious “birds” that might come down to the streets and stick their beaks in places where they don’t belong.

The thieves had just climbed up to the top of the small mansion the noble had built for himself, and they were quietly working at the hinges of a very nice glass skylight.

There was a clang that echoed in the night, like a crowbar hitting the ground.

He glanced up to the roof. “Cut?” he hissed in a heated whisper.

“Don’t worry about us, Mouse. These ponies know what they're doing. Just keep your eyes and ears open,” Cut said from above.

Mouse fidgeted, but kept his watch, staring out into the street from his vantage point in the nearby alley. A single lamppost lit the street, with its single, tiny flame that the lamplighter had lit hours before casting a faint, red light across the cobblestone.

But there was not a sound.

That was the problem with the guard. Since almost all of them were pegasi, they very rarely made the noise that Mouse was used to. Yet another problem with the enclosed, tight confines of the prison that he lived in for most of his life.

Not all of the pegasi flew everywhere, but enough of them did that it was a problem.

Keeping his eyes open for any low-flying guards, Mouse scanned the street once more, watching the inky blackness for any sign of the golden glint of light hitting the armor of the guard.

Another silent ten minutes passed, and still, there was no sign of anyone approaching.

And that was...somewhat odd.

Normally he would have seen someone. At least one guard should have walked past by now, honestly. Something must have happened to put them so far behind in their patrol.

He had to wonder what though? In all of his experience, whenever the guards ran into a problem they usually just called more guards in.

Of course, things worked differently out here, and Cut took every opportunity to insult the guards and their incredible incompetence.

“The Birdbrains wouldn’t know gold from a birdsticker if we didn’t stab them with them,” he’d say. “They’re only good when they already got you as guests, but out here? Dumb as posts.”

Another moment or two passed without a noise or even the slightest hint of movement.

They should’ve been here.

The thieves were already inside, no doubt looting the place, so he couldn’t voice his concern, and perhaps that made the silence all the more maddening.

Where were they?

This made no sense there should be some guards somewhere.

He sighed. Why was he even complaining? This was good for him and the thieves, it mean that things were going to be easy. This meant a clean a getaway as possible. It mean that there would no issues. It was exactly what they hoped would happen.

A glint off the roof across the street caught his eye.

Mouse blinked, before his eyes focused on where he just caught the light.

A moment passed.

Movement.

A shape, little more than the curve of a golden helmet, caught the silver moonlight as it moved across the roof, almost hidden by the short wall that surrounded the flat roof.

That...that was a guard.

That’s a guard!

Right there!

He turned his gaze upward, searching for any other sign of the gathered guards, and slowly came to a horrifying conclusion.

The mansion was surrounded.

It was a trap.

He froze in the darkness, staring up at the roofs where armed pegasi lie in wait, ready to pounce on the thieves as they exited.

And Mouse knew he’d be caught with them.

He’d be taken back, back to the jail to rot in the prison all over again.

He...he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t go back now, not after tasting freedom for the first time in his life. He couldn’t go back to that darkness.

Mouse took a careful step back, and held his breath.

He needed to get away. He couldn’t get caught here.

He couldn’t.

A glance back at mansion, where Cut Purse and a team of thieves worked, gave Mouse pause. They were completely oblivious to the ambush that had been set around them.

And, more importantly, Mouse’s only chance at a salary.

He hesitated, waiting a moment while he was still covered by darkness.

He couldn’t...couldn’t risk prison. Couldn’t leave them.

He grit his teeth.

And he ran.

Back down the alley, and up the three crates that thieves had carefully set up only hours before. Up the first, then the second, over the third and on the roof.

Cursing under his breath all the way, he ran to the skylight. The thieves left it open, for a quick getaway, and Mouse used that to his advantage as he dived into the building.

He was met by the most expensive rug he had ever seen. It almost swallowed his hooves, and silenced his steps, as he suddenly found himself surrounded by finery he had never seen before in his life.

Gilt vases and fine silver flanked the hallway while fine paintings and rich tapestries hung from every wall. Decorative, unicornian swords and a coat of arms also hung from the wall, breaking long stretches of royal purple wallpaper and as a general filler for any empty space that could possibly inhabit the walls.

Mouse shook his head.

No time.

He had to warn Cut Purse and the others.

He snuck down the halls, almost running down the way as he silently swept through the top floor. He kept his ears open, searching for any sign of Cut Purse and his thieves.

The chink of silver on silver caught his ear.

There.

He slid down, following the sound before he found them. Cut stood in the back, while the other two dug deep into their ill-gotten gains, chuckling as they threw candelabras and silverware into their bags.

“Cut!” Mouse hissed. “Cut!”

“Mouse?” Cut called, surprised at the unicorn’s sudden appearance.

“It’s a trap!” Mouse hissed. “The guards are outside! They’re hiding on the rooftops!”

“Luna’s Breath!” Cut swore. “I knew this was too easy!”

“So what do we do?” One of the thieves asked, holding his bag in between his feathers.

“Hang on,” Cut said, “Let me think.”

“What are we gonna do?” The other asked.

“I said, let me think!” Cut growled.

All eyes were on Cut as the silence he ordered stretched longer and longer in the darkness of the mansion.

And then his eyes landed on Mouse. “Alright, I have a plan. You may not like it, but it’s a plan,” Cut said, before grabbing and emptying the bags of loot at the thieves’ hooves. “Grab some pillows,” he ordered, and one of the thieves disappeared into a nearby room.

“Alright, Mouse, here’s the plan. You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to take these bags, we’re going to stuff them with pillows, and you’re going to run for it.”

“What?”

“You’ve been promoted to decoy,” Cut said.

“What? No! No! I didn’t sign up for that!” Mouse yelled.

“Mouse—” Cut began.

“No! I’m not going back to prison!”

“Mouse, listen,” Cut said softly. “Look, I don't want to tell you what to do. I don't like telling ponies what to do. I'm asking you to do this, and if you help, I swear I will help you. Trust me, you’re too good for us to let you rot. If you get caught, we’ll get out, I promise.”

Mouse stared at him, eyes wide and terrified.

Cut gave him a soft smile. “Trust me.”

Mouse didn't want to trust him. He didn't want to go back to the cavern-like prison of the Canterlot jail. He wanted to get out, he wanted to run for the hills.

But Cut just smiled and stared at him with his big, brown eyes.

Mouse was three steps away from a window. He could jump out that and be better of. He could even try and convince the guards that he was turning them all in. That could work, couldn't it?

But Cut kept staring.

Mouse cursed Cut to the deepest pit of Tartarus.

How on earth that pony ever convinced him, he would never know. He held three bags worth of “loot” and stood poised in front of the skylight while Cut stood behind him, giving him instruction. “Once you’re not being followed, then head back to your shack. I’ll meet you there. If you’re not there by sunrise, I’ll assume you’ve been caught, and I’ll get you out.”

“Assuming you don’t get caught.” Mouse thought bitterly.

Whatever else Cut had to say was merely a buzzing in Mouse’s ear as he stared out into the darkness just beyond the skylight, where who-knows-how-many guards waited for him, eager to drag him back to those black depths.

He shivered at the thought.

Yes, the image of his old cell did hold some not-unwelcome familiarity, but he didn’t dare go back, not when freedom was such a sweet fruit. He couldn’t go back, not now, not ever.

“Ready?” Cut said, derailing his thoughts.

“As much as I can be…” Mouse muttered.

Cut smirked. “You’re a good stallion, Mouse. I’ll see ya soon.”

Mouse sighed.

“Now go!” he yelled.

He leapt through the open skylight, breaking out into the night sky with the bags following him in his magical grasp. At the same time, the other two thieves burst through the front door, each running in the opposite direction as Mouse took off, leaping to a nearby, empty roof, before he turned and ran for Canterlot proper.

Or at least he thought it was empty.

He nearly slammed into a guard that hid beneath the ledge, but he did feel and hear his hoof smash into the pegasus’ helmet.

Clang!

He hit the roof running, and galloped for the edge.

“You two after them! The rest with me! Catch that unicorn with the bags!”

He didn’t look back. He just ran.

He leapt to the next house, rolling down it’s slanted roof before hitting the cobblestone street.

Mouse booked it, running with the decoy bags even as pegasi took to the sky, following after him like a swarm of angry bees.

He ran, and ran, legs pumping as he tried to escape the guard. Yet, with every step he took, he couldn’t help but think about how Cut was back at the manor, waiting for the coast to be clear, with all the cash and loot ready to sell.

How did he ever get talked into this?

He careened around the corner, hoping beyond hope that he could get the five blocks away that Cut gave him before he could lose the bags and hide.

Just five blocks.

He felt the cobblestones shake as a pegasus landed dive-bombed him.

Mouse yelped, but ran on, the fear of the dark cells he had known for so long pushing him to run faster and faster still.

The fluttering of feathers filled his ears, and Mouse just barely ducked beneath yet another guard eager to bring him down. The pegasus spun as his hooves dragged across the cobblestones, his shoes sending up sparks as steel met stone.

Mouse, in answer, took a hard left. He dived down another alleyway, weaving through the crates and boxes that had been pushed out of the streets. An armored guard slammed into the alley wall as he tried to follow, but the others took the corner with ease. Still, it was a precious second of breathing room.

“Stop in the name of Founders!” One of them yelled, as if it would make a difference.

Mouse took the next right, heading downtown with all the speed he could muster.

Pegasi flew overhead, more guards were behind him, and walls to either side. He could only go forward, and then, to his horror, even that was cut off.

Another pegasus stood before him, a staff in his hooves, with a glowing red crystal at it's head. It flashed, and a translucent wall of energy the same color of the gem stretched across the alley, blocking it off.

Mouse screeched to a halt. He turned, to run back the only way he could, only to find that the guards had him blocked.

His blood ran cold.

No.

No, he couldn't.

He couldn't go back.

No! No!

He tried the wall, trying to climb the rough stone and wood on either side of the alley.

His hooves couldn't get purchase, and he fell back to the ground with a crash.

A hoof slammed into his chest, and he felt the smile of the guard as they stared down at him. “And now we have you thief,” the captain said, before he motioned to two other guards with his wing. “Get the bags.”

Mouse groaned, and he could feel tears begin to grow on his face, before a habit built on so many years began to push them back.

“With all the goods you have, we’ll be able to put you away for a long time.”

And all hope left him.

Mouse was met by a cold, dark, and familiar cell.

The captain was not happy to see that the bags of gold were nothing but couch pillows, and on the way into the prison, he lambasted the staff-wielding pegasus for wasting a spell crystal on a decoy.

Nevermind the fact that this same captain had ordered the majority of their force after that same decoy.

And so, Mouse earned not a small amount of ire from the captain, and was back in an old, familiar cell which seemed to mock him at every turn.

“You thought you could leave, did you? Thought you could be normal, huh? No, this is where you belong.”

And so, he sat, in the darkness he had tried to escape.

It was almost worst this way, now he knew the world out there, he knew it was tough, but still far better than anything these four walls had to offer. And he was stuck to these four walls. He couldn’t even move this time. There was too much attention on him, changing cells would only get him into more trouble for now.

It was over.

It was nice, he supposed, to see the sky at least once before he was back forever.

Then again, he could use same way out he took the first time.

Assuming it wasn’t guarded now.

Oh, what was the point? The surface didn’t want him. He couldn’t make it out there, he could hardly get a job out there, this was where he belonged, forgotten in the darkness. This was his fate.

The jangle of keys caught his attention. Did the guards make another arrest?

A part of him wished that it was Cut and the others. Then they’d join him in his renewed incarceration, when the pony in question stepped in front of his cell.

It was Cut, smiling as he stood next to a scowling guard who begrudgingly worked the lock with a set of keys. “Hey, Mouse, how was your stay?”

Mouse blinked as the guard opened the cell door.

“You know, you really have to stop taking ponies’ couch cushions,” Cut told him, “You’re going to get in a lot of trouble one day.”

Mouse stood, and Cut smiled.

“Then again, bail for pillow theft is pretty low so…”

The guard growled. “Just get out of here.”

Cut smirked. “Come on, Mouse let’s get you home.”

Cut smiled all the way back to Mouse’s little hovel, even as the sun began to rise on the horizon. “You’ve done good, Mouse. Very good. In fact, at this point, I think you can join our flock.”

“Look,” Mouse said. “I’m flattered, but—”

“What? Worried about time in the guest house? Cause the flock’s got the pull to keep you out. That’s the point.”

“Cut, I—”

“Just listen, Mouse, just listen,” Cut interrupted. “You come in, you get 20% of whatever you take, we get you out of the guest house, and home every night, and you get proper place to stay. A proper bed, a real roof, and hey, we’ll even set you up in a different city so the guards won’t be after you all the time, how’s that sound?”

Honestly, all the distance he could put between himself and that prison the better. “Cut...Cut I don’t know. I just…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” the short stallion offered. “The first visit to the guesthouse working for us is always the worst. Give it a couple more, and it’ll be easier that a vanilla creme pie.”

Mouse sighed.

“Here, your pay to cheer you up,” Cut said, tossing a couple of gold bits his way.

Mouse looked into the shiny, yellow coins, but stayed quiet.

“Listen, Mouse, you may not think it, but we did well tonight. With what you did last night, the whole operation was saved, if that’s not talent, I don’t know what is. And I know talent. There is not a pony in my branch that I didn't hoof pick, and each and every one of them is a brilliant thief. I did not pick you on accident.”

Mouse looked up at him.

“If you hadn’t rushed in and let us know, we’d all be in the guesthouse without a bit to our names, you made the whole mission worth it. You were the most important pony on the team tonight.

"This is it, Mouse. This is your luck changing," Cut continued. "You just happened to see the guard, you get in without raising the alarm, and you manage to lead them out long enough that we can do our job. Does that sound like the same luck that you had when we first talked? The luck of a pony whose only chance at employment burns down?"

Mouse said nothing.

Cut sighed. “Look, take the day off and think about it,” he said, handing Mouse a small note. “If you’re interested, follow those instructions. I hope to see you there, Mouse. You’ve got too much potential to let this job go.”

And Cut stepped away, leaving Mouse and his house alone for the night. Mouse stared down at parchment and coins.

Well...it was nice to think that he did make the whole mission worth it.

Even if the whole thing was absolutely insane.

You realize that you are catching on to the secret of success. It's just a matter of concentration.

Chapter 7

Mouse read the small parchment that Cut Purse had given him. The instructions written on them in a script that seemed a little too smooth and flowing for a thief, but they were clear, and that was perhaps more important.

It said it right there, clear as day, that he should go down to the warehouse district on the west side of town, at midnight. He was to come alone, of course, but he was not to bring any tools with him, no daggers, no picks, nothing. The only thing he was allowed was a cloak, and not an item more.

Mouse was a little nervous about leaving his bag, though. Between its magical abilities and the five pointed star on its side that apparently would make him a target of hatred, leaving it alone would perhaps be the last time he would see it.

Still, this would be his only chance.

If...if he wanted this.

He still wasn’t sure. Was this going to be his life now? Running from the prison and the law just to make a living? Was that going to be his fate? Couldn’t there be another option out there somewhere? Was this all he could do?

He sighed.

It was an opportunity. It was the only opportunity he had. He had no other choice now.

He was going to be a thief, and no matter how much he hated it, it was the truth, and the only truth Mouse could find.

Besides, this was the day, he had spent so long waiting and thinking and debating this fate that he had no more time. It was a few hours till midnight, and he needed what little he had to get back to the It was now or never, as simple as that.

So, removing his belt with the magical bag, and storing it beneath a floorboard that he had worked up off the floor, he readied himself with a long breath, and left his home into the night.

His trip to the warehouse district was uneventful, but he had a short detour as he had a little trouble finding the meeting point that the parchment described. As it was, he was the last one to arrive, with three other ponies already waiting.

One was an earth pony that Mouse recognized from one of the runs Cut had lead them on, but whose name escaped him, if it was ever mentioned. He held a torch aloft, leaving the back alley bathed in a warm orange light. “There you are,” he muttered. “I was beginning to think you chickened out.”

Mouse shook his head but said nothing, joining the other two ponies that all watched him approach. One was a pegasus, grinning ear to ear with the smuggest smirk Mouse had seen in his life. It was the kind of smugness that Mouse had previously thought was possessed solely by guards, and it took only a second of that smirk before the unicorn decided that he did not like the pegasus.

The other pony was another earth pony, she was much smaller than the one bearing the torch, and was almost smaller than Cut Purse, but she had a glint in her eye that spoke of a determination that Mouse had seen in the survivors of the prison. Those who were at the bottom of the pecking order, by determined to rule the jail before the month is out.

She was dangerous.

“Evening Gents,” the earth pony with the torch said. “We have a little test for ya.”

“What do you mean a test?” The pegasus asked.

“Exactly that,” the torch-bearing pony said. “The gang doesn’t have room for all three of you, so we’re going to have a little contest, and I am the proctor of this little event, so if you stop interrupting me, then we can move on.”

The pegasus smirked. “Look, just save us all some time and give me the spot.”

“You don’t get points for being cute,” the earth pony said. “So here’s the deal. Out there’s a pony by the name of Lord Golden Chain, you know the type, snobbish unicorn noble from back west trying to make a fortune in this great land of Equestria. Your job is to rob him blind.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to give him a tour of the city,” the pegasus said with that same smirk.

Mouse looked at him, but said nothing, and the Earth pony mare beside him shared his look of disgust.

“So what are we taking? His purse? His house keys?” the pegasus asked, turning on his back and continuing to stay airborn.

The proctor sighed, before he nodded. “Yes, I want you to take his keys.”

“Alright, I’m on it!” the pegasus said, before he leapt into the air, and disappeared.

For a second Mouse was worried he had to go, that he had to follow the pegasus or be left behind. He began to move, but the second he lifted a hoof, the proctor shook his head, so Mouse simply froze.

The torch-bearing pony watched him go before turning to the others. “Now that we won’t have to deal with any further interruptions, you’re not after the key.”

Mouse blinked, but stayed quiet while the mare next to him nodded.

“You’re after his chain, it’s his signet chain, and with that in our hooves, we can move some serious cargo. You passed the first test, which is listening, so now it’s down to you two. Whichever of you can steal it from him, or each other, and brings it to me first is in.” He reached into a pouch on his best, and presented them each with parchment. “These are directions to his home. Good luck.”

Mouse and the mare each took a page, with the house marked in red ink.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” the proctor asked.

Both ponies risked one last look at each other, before they broke for it, running for the street, both heading directly for the house of their target.

Mouse ducked down another alleyway, turning away from the mare to be alone with his thoughts for a moment and try to plan without her eyes on him. He ran and slid through the alleys, before taking to the rooftops by a convenient stack of crates.

He had to think. Chances were the pony was sleeping, that would be in his favor if not for the fact that the pegasus would most likely be relying on speed rather than stealth to get the keys he thought were the target. There was no guarantee that the pony would still be sleeping after the pegasus made his run.

He was still unsure about the earth pony mare. He didn’t know how she was going to get in, nor how she was going to go for the chain. Perhaps she would be slower than him. He could pick a simple lock without any picks, and he could try the invisibility again. That would get him through the house simple enough, but if the mare were to follow him…

Mouse frowned.

It seemed that he’d just have to take the chain first.

He leapt across an alley, before dropping back to the earth to cut across a street. He crossed over and soon found himself surrounded by large houses that were forced to be close together by the growth of the town.

He had been told that all of these mansions belonged to the unicorn nobles from the old world. You could tell, he said, by how they’re so close together, and how close they are to the town. Very few of the unicorns thought about sustaining a fortune like the few earth pony landowners that came across the sea. The earth ponies typically surrounded themselves with land, where they could have farmers work the field for wages, and as a result, were quickly gaining fortunes.

The nobles, on the other hoof, tried to surround themselves with their peers, continuing to live of the fortune built by their ancestors. Ironically, Mouse found that this closeness made it easier to hide. More deep shadows and points to leap off of to climb the fences that seemed so prominent here.

Mouse moved as quietly as he could, before finding an alley between two of the mansion, and quickly wedged himself between two of the fences, climbing up between the fences until he could leap over and into the yard of an unsuspecting neighbor.

His eyes found the house, and watched it for any kind of sign of the pegasus that should already be here.

Yes, there he was. The pegasus was flying away from the house as fast as possible, no doubt key in hoof.

And there was Golden Chain, yelling and screaming at the sky.

Now was his chance, he supposed.

He quickly made his way to one of the eves of the building, before he leapt into his target’s yard, sailing over the fence and landing hard in the grass.

The second he hit, he cast his spell, and his body disappeared from sight. He rolled, crashing into a very prickly rose bush, and whimpered as the thorns bit into his flesh.

“What was that?” He heard Chain growl, before he came around to stare at the roses.

Despite himself, Mouse offered a prayer to the goddess of the moon for a blessing, hoping that his spell would hold up against the noble’s eye. He held his breath as the noble glared in his direction, before he grumbled. “That brute ruined my roses! I swear, if the guards do not catch that thug, I will see someone hanged.”

Mouse kept silent, and held his breath as he slowly moved around the noble who was angrily mourning his rose bush, before he quickly made a bee-line for the mansion’s front door.

He smiled when he saw that it was still open.

He slipped inside, and tried to think. “Where would somepony keep a signet chain?”

He ran up the stairs, ducking his head into whatever room he could to try and find the chain that he had been sent to steal. He ran past the kitchen and the dining rooms, past bedrooms and sitting rooms, three studies, each filled with books, scrolls, and magical apparati.

He stuck his head in, looked around, and moved on. He didn’t have the time, nor did he have the magical reserves to keep his invisibility spell up forever, he had to find the chain and get out.

And then he found a locked door. His heart leapt at the sight of that door, and he finally risked dropping his invisibility and cast his lockpicking spell. There was a moment of silence, before the door clicked open, and Mouse rushed inside, trying to hide from the open hallway that would leave him exposed to anypony that would have crested the stairs.

He closed the door behind him, leaving him in the otherwise silent room with the single window. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, next to expensive paintings of unicorn mares and statuettes of yet other figures Mouse didn’t recognize.

He took half a second to breath before he began searching the room once more. He needed to get the chain and leave as soon as possible. First were the shelves, all lined with books of various subjects, each labeled with a tiny plaque that decorated the center of the shelves: Magical Study, Law, Biography, and there was even a small shelf labeled “fiction.”

He checked them over, searching for something that could hold the chain. Although he did pause for a second on the fiction shelf when the book titled “The Alicorn Gods” caught his attention. He blinked, before he moved on. He didn’t have time to read a noble’s book. He had to find that chain.

He spun around the room, searching for anything that could hold the chain.

And there it was.

A little chest, with a chain motif carved along the edges and corners, sat beside the window. Mouse immediately cursed himself for not noticing it upon first entering the room. He crossed the study, leaping over the desk to land perfectly in front of the box.

And then a hoof came through the window.

Glass shards flew at him, and Mouse covered his eyes as the hoof of the earth pony mare snatched the box in front of him. She hung on the wall, clinging to the window with all the dexterity a hoof could offer before she gave Mouse a smile. “Thanks for finding this for me,” she whispered, before she dropped to the yard.

“Another one?” a voice said from the hallway.

Mouse cursed, before he cast his spell again, and tried to open the window so he could follow the mare, when the door to the room slammed open.

The noble crossed the room screaming. “My chain!” he yelled, as he ran to the window. “The thieves took my chain!”

Mouse began to back away, under his spell, before his hoof caught the carpet.

He tripped, and in that moment, he felt his heart stop.

He landed hard, and a deep thud sounded in the room.

“What was that?” The noble asked, when his horn began to glow, and a wave of magic washed over the room.

Mouse felt his spell fall as the wave passed over him, and he popped up onto his hooves and ran out of the room.

The noble screamed behind him. “How dare you!”

Mouse didn’t answer, he just ran, leaping down the stairs and throwing his weight into front door.

“Get back here, thief!”

Mouse decided not to, instead, his eyes were searching for the mare that had grabbed his box. The noble was barreling out the door, he didn’t have much time.

There.

She was disappearing down the alleys, running at a full gallop down the streets. Mouse followed, careening after her.

The earth pony was fast, and putting distance between them as Mouse tried to follow. He wouldn’t be able catch up with her at this rate. He needed something to get the edge.

A thought flashed through his head, and his horn shimmered to life.

The mare tumbled as Mouse’s silver magic grabbed her leg, and she tumbled, end over end as both she and box went skidding across the cobblestone path. Mouse ran up, scooping up the box, and booked it down the path.

He heard the mare growl, before he felt the ground shake as she ran. “You cheating, knife-faced, gelding!”

He had been called worse in prison.

She was gaining on him, he could feel it. She was running even faster now that she had all four legs free, and Mouse wasn’t sure he’d stay ahead, not with his treasure in his possession.

He galloped down the street, chest held above his head as he ran, when an idea struck him. He searched for a place to hide, not long, but just long enough.

A long alley. No.

A twisty street. Better, but no.

An alley with an intersection? Perfect.

He dived down the alley, and tried to cast his spell as he careened around the corner.

The spell enveloped him, and he crouched against the ground. He took a quick glance around, searching for the mare when he saw his spell.

It was imperfect. His form shimmered and shook. All it would take was a good look, and he’d be found.

Swallowing hard, he curled into a ball and stayed stock still.

The mare ran in, and paused at the intersection. She looked left, right, ahead, before she cursed.

“Where did he go?” she hissed. She hesitated another second or two, trying to find some sign of him down the alleys before she took off to the left.

Mouse waited a second, before he sighed in relief. He took one second before he went to work, dropping the invisibility spell, and using his pick spell to open the lock. There was a soft click, and the lid came open, revealing the signet chain in all its opulence.

The chain sat on crushed velvet, and shone in the moonlight. The chain was perfectly formed, decorated with spiraling bands of silver that ran through every golden link. The amulet by itself was a masterpiece, with a rampant lion engraved into its face, with the single, exposed eye set with a brilliant, if small, ruby.

The claws were tiny, curved pieces of ivory, set into the gold so that they just barely domed over the surface. The engraving alone gave the image of a regal, though scarred feline. A long, but definitely intentional wound ran down the lion's side, and a diamond tooth was definitely missing from it's mouth, but even still, Mouse could not help but vividly imagine the fierce, and terrible beast that was so lovingly engraved upon the amulet's face.

"It was no wonder Cut's crew wants this," Mouse thought, as he stared at the jewel in the box.

Wasting no more time, he picked it up, slid it on beneath his cloak, and closed the box.

Now he was ready.

He leapt up onto his hooves and started running in the opposite direction as his competition.

Even if she took the box now, he’d still have the—

Mouse hit the street as something slammed into his back. Both he and the box went sprawling, and he felt the mare roll off his back. “I’ll give you this, you’re good. You’re just not that good.”

She walked forward, grabbing the box, and ran into the darkness.

And Mouse smiled, and took a leisurely walk back to proctor.

The earth pony with the torch shook his head as Mouse returned. “Good news and bad news, new blood. Bad news, you’re too late, the mare got here first. The good news, the box was empty, so you guys can keep going.”

Mouse smiled. “I also have some good news,” he said, as he pulled the chain off his neck. “I emptied the box.”

The proctor smiled. “Well, well, we might actually have a thief on our hooves,” the proctor said as he took the chain. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Mouse,” the unicorn replied.

The proctor looked him over. “You wanna go with that or…?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Alright then,” the Proctor replied. “Welcome to the gang.”

“You!” a voice called from behind him.

Both ponies turned to stare at the source, and found the mare that was also running the competition.

“He cheated! He picked locks, and turned invisible! We weren’t supposed to have any tools!”

“Spells aren’t tools, kid,” the proctor said. “You can’t lose a spell, just like you can't lose talent. It’s valid.”

“Are you kidding me?” she growled.

The proctor sighed. “Look, kid, if anything he out-lucked, ya. That's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Luck? You're going to blame luck?” she growled.

"What else? We're thieves, we live and die by luck. His luck was better than yours."

“Hey!” another voice called, and everyone gathered looked up to see the pegasus. “That wasn’t fair! You told me you were after the key!”

“Because you weren’t listening, featherbrain,” the proctor yelled. “If you’re going to join the gang, then you need to know when to shut your trap and listen!”

“You sarding liar!”

“We’re thieves. We lie. If you don’t know when to lie or when you’re being lied to, then you have no place in the gang, now stop yelling before you bring the birds down on us!”

“You’re just building another Order of the Horn!” the pegasus roared.

“Luck my eye! You're after spells and wings more than anything!” the mare cried.

“And the both of you need to shut it, you’re going to draw—”

“Halt in the name of the founders!” a voice said from beyond the torch light.

“It’s the feathers!” the mare yelled.

But the proctor had already dropped the torch, and both he and Mouse were gone.

After the proctor told Mouse to go his own way, he went back to the abandoned house he called home.

And was only slightly surprised when Cut met him there. “So I heard you’re in?” Cut Purse asked.

“That’s what the proctor said,” Mouse said, unlocking his door.

“Brilliant, you're one of us now, Mouse. Just like I'd thought you would. Welcome to the family,” Cut said with a smile. “I’ll get you a ticket out east, so things can cool down here for ya. Then it'll be smooth sailing for a long time for ya.”

Mouse nodded, and smiled.

"I'm serious, three square, a place to sleep, more bits than you can ask for, low security. This is the life Mouse."

The ability to start over in a new city certainly sounded nice. “Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course,” Cut replied. “Meet me at the wall their building to the south, I’ll get you a nice carriage out.”

Mouse nodded, said his goodbyes, and closed the door of his tiny abandoned home.

Well, it wasn’t a normal life, but it was the closest he could get.

Chapter 8

The creak of the cart’s wheel was the only sound Mouse heard for the past day and a half. It squeaked and groaned under the weight of the cart, as it was being pulled by one of the two cart drivers.

He was heading east, toward the city called Baltimare.

“You’ll love it,” Cut had said. “The birds are lazy, the merchants are rich, and it's as far away from the Old World as you can get without having having an island to yourself.”

Mouse hadn’t seen it yet, nor did he see any signs of rich merchants and lazy guards. The only thing that he really saw in abundance was thick undergrowth and even thicker forests. A pair of mountain peaks stood just north of the dirt road, the only feature that Mouse could see beyond the canopy of the trees.

The forest, the Greenwood, according to the driver that sat on the bench at the front of the cart was one of the two natural borders that surrounded Baltimare. The other was the Quicktrot river which emptied into the Horseshoe Bay.

The Bay, of course, was what made Baltimare as successful as it was, despite how isolated it was. Ships could come and dock, and find safe harbor. The only other harbor on this whole coastline was the channel between the island of Manehatten and mainland.

Mouse had no idea what either of those were.

So, with trade along the coast, and the Quicktrot river which reached far into the mainland, Baltimare became the place to transport large, heavy goods from Manehatten to the inland without having to use massive caravans that could be waylaid by bandits.

Again, Mouse kinda understood. What was important, though was that there were bandits that wanted what was coming through the city, and as a thief in the gang, he would get the first shot at it.

The driver went on to talk about many other subjects that Mouse wasn’t completely able to understand, when he noticed something. It had been slowly growing to a while now, a scent on the air that he only just now recognized.

His sniffing was noticed by the cart driver. “Can you smell it, boy? Can you smell the sea?”

Mouse wasn’t sure. It smelled somewhat salty, but the only smell he had ever known water to have was the stagnant musky odor that clung to still, algae filled ponds.

Luckily, he didn't need to answer. “Spoke, Spoke, it’s your turn,” the pony pulling the cart said.

“Already? It seems too soon,” the stallion on the bench said.

“You always say that, now get down here,” the other stallion said, before they switched pullers, stopping for a grand total of ten minutes before they continued on again, moving down the road.

Mouse stayed silent.

Supposedly the cart was supposed to be full of passengers, but Cut had sent a little extra money for the cart pullers so Mouse wouldn’t have to wait. The drivers didn’t mind too much, though, the less they have to pull the better.

Of course, Mouse wasn’t happy about how this “Spoke” pony was so eager to talk.

“Sorry about Spoke,” the other driver whispered as he took the bench, “we joke that he doesn’t know that speaking and wheel spokes are different things.”

Mouse barely got the joke, and didn’t even smile.

The other stallion didn’t seem to mind, though, and they continued on, flanked by wilderness on either side. The forest deadened any sound other than the creaking of the steel-tired cart wheel, which occasionally buckled as it hit holes, ditches, and muddy puddles in the road.

“We’re almost there now,” the driver said as he watched Spoke pull. “Another hour and we’ll be there.”

There was a break in the trees ahead, as a sudden, sloping hill lead down to the coast, and Mouse blinked at the sight before him. A massive, white-sailed ship sat docked in the water, with a banner waving proudly from the tallest of its three masts. A unicorn head, a pair of wings, and a lush field all shared a portion of the flag, each set apart from each other, but united on the same flag.

Beside the ship, and dwarfed by it, were buildings, large wooden cranes, and smaller river boats that were slowly paddling their way upriver to the far side of Mount Canterlot. The Buildings were cheerful little things nestled so close together that there was not a space between them. Each house was painted in yellows, blues, and light shades of pink, narrow but deep to allow for more houses to be closer to the docks.

Mouse was surprised to see that most of the houses seemed finished. There were not as many wooden buildings as there were in Canterlot, preferring instead brickwork and mortar. Mouse would not understand it was the money that ran through this little city that brought its success for another few days. The merchants of Baltimare held sway in this frontier town, with a power that stretched back to Canterlot.

What Mouse did understand, was the beauty of the sea.

Beyond the town, beyond the docks and cranes, there was the infinite expanse of the ocean. White glinted off the distance waves, and the deep blue shone proudly across the horizon, stretching until it reached the edges of his vision.

And then the cart bounced, and the sight disappeared behind the trees once more.

Mouse blinked.

“First time seeing the sea?” the driver asked.

“Um, yes…” Mouse admitted.

“Well, be careful,” the driver warned. “As a wise pony once said, ‘The sea has never been friendly to ponies. At most it has been the accomplice of their restlessness.’”

Mouse wasn’t really sure what that meant.

The rest of the trip went by in silence until they finally drew into the city proper. Once they passed into the city the sounds of the sea filled the air. The cries of seagulls, sailors and the creaking of ships filled the docks, and the inland city was filled with cries of local merchants hawking anything from food to clothing.

“Alright, sir,” the driver finally said as the cart slowed to a stop. “We’re here.”

Mouse dropped from the cart and hit the cobblestone streets. He looked around, searching for the pony Cut told him to get in contact with. He had perhaps a second, before a large, green stallion bumped into him.

“You Mouse?” the big pony asked in a rough voice as Mouse spun to see him.

“I am,” he confirmed.

“I’m Big Sap, our mutual friend wants me to give you the tour,” the big pony said simply. Big Sap was most certainly a large pony, one of the largest Mouse had ever seen. His legs were built like stone columns and his face was as hard to read. His brown eyes were constantly squinting, and his brow was so furrowed that those same eyes were constantly cast in shadow. It was like he was constantly staring into the sun.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Mouse said.

“Good, come on,” Sap said before leading Mouse down the street.

The houses were kinda strange, as far as Mouse knew. They didn’t have the eaves that he had seen on every other house, and the face that was flush with the street were filled with windows, four sets that reached all the way to the peaked roof.

“It’s not bad, right?” Sap asked. “It’s only thirty years, and already this place has more class than Canterlot.”

Mouse nodded.

“It helps that we’re not growing all the time, I suppose, but it means you can’t sucker the new arrivals like you could back there.”

“Sucker them?” Mouse asked.

“Yeah, you know, the whole building tax con?” he asked.

Mouse shook his head.

Sap looked confused, or possibly angry, for a moment, before he grunted. “Oh, right, you’re new.” He sighed as he turned to face the road again. “There’s Cut for ya, sending me the new guys all the time, making my job hard.”

They kept moving, getting deeper into the city and further and further away from the brilliant merchant homes on the dock. The shining, brick buildings gave way to seedier, wooden shacks that languished in darkness and shadow.

Which was impressive, given that it was noon.

Eventually, they came to a squat building with a roof that looked like it was moments away from caving in with a sign out front that read “The Highwayman's Alehouse.”

“Welcome home, Mouse,” Sap said as they stepped inside to the tavern.

The main room was dark, lit by a handful of candles that did nothing to warm the atmosphere. Shadows clung to the corner, almost hiding the tables and chair that seemed scattered throughout the place. A mare stood behind the counter, cleaning what looked like to be the only glass in the place before her eyes glanced up at the new arrivals. “New guy?” she asked.

“Yup,” Sap answered.

“Alright, well here’s the deal, new guy,” she said staring him down from behind the counter. “Your people make my job hard. I don’t hardly get any customers, so the first rule, is don’t steal from whoever comes through my door, ya got it?”

Mouse nodded.

“Good,” she said, before she went back to her glass cleaning.

“That’s Pale Ale,” Sap said, pointing in the mare’s direction as he led him toward the back of the tavern. “She’s not one of us proper, but she’s part of the gang. Like a cousin or something, extended family, that kinda deal.”

Mouse nodded, following as they moved down a flight of stairs into a stone cellar. “Watch carefully now, you’re expected to know this on your own,” Sap said as he pushed a brick in the wall. A section of blank wall next to the brick slowly opened, revealing a secret door. “This is our headquarters,” he said simply.

The secret passage lead down into darkness, down a set of stairs into a large chamber. It was lit by a brazier and a hundred candles, all spread throughout the room. They stood on tables, crates, anywhere and everywhere wax could collect.

“We use this room for whatever, really,” Big Sap said. “Storage, parties, whatever.”

Two ponies, a pegasus and earth pony, moved a crate inside from a tunnel to the room, just as Sap was talking. “Oi, Shade, Dusk, whatcha got there?”

“Last box of Blackglass, sir,” one of the ponies said. “The only one that couldn’t fit in with the others.

“Crack it open!” Sap said, smiling. “Let’s see the produce, eh?”

The pegasus smiled as he produced a crowbar, and pried the crate open, to reveal a carefully stacked pile of panes of what seemed to be purely black glass. Sap smiled as he pulled a pane out, and shattered it against the edge of the crate.

Dusk, Shade, and Sap all grabbed a shard, and sliced it across their legs where Mouse suddenly realized a worryingly large latticework of scars crisscrossed across their flesh. As the black glass touched blood, it disintegrated, transforming to dust right before Mouse’s very eyes. Sap smiled as the glass did it’s work, and his features softened. His smile became more warm and inviting, his eyes widened slightly, just enough that the light in the shone merrily reflected merrily, making him seem calmer, wiser, and friendlier all at once.

“Go ahead and grab one, Mouse,” Sap said, smiling. “Only big shards now, we don’t hire junkies.”

He had seen the ponies in the prisons that used black glass. They were desperate, smashing the shards over and over again to get the smallest pieces they could, their bodies a mess of scars, old and new, as they cut themselves over and over again to get the same high they used to until they literally bled out on the floor of their cells.

Mouse shook his head. “I’ll pass,” he said.

Sap narrowed his eyes and frowned, before grabbing another shard and handing it to Mouse. "I insist."

Mouse blinked, surprised by the sudden viciousness in his voice, and took the shard.

Sap's face then softened, and he nodded. “Alright, I hope you enjoy," he said, before leading Mouse away. "So as you can probably guess, the other big advantage of living in a place like Baltimare, is that we have a working sewer system and all the room to expand.”

Sap led Mouse through the whole complex, bedrooms, dining rooms, training rooms, all hidden away in clean, dry cisterns that were once built to reduce the chances of floods. Now that they had been blocked off, and were now being used almost exclusively by Sap’s gang.

Within the hour, Mouse had a decent grasp of the whole complex, but as Sap led him to his own bed, he turned serious. “Now Mouse,” he said, trying to harden his gaze even as the Blackglass kept his face relaxed. “Cut says you’re good, but I don’t know that. I don't know if you're lucky either. So before I let you off to rob the merchants blind, I’m going to need you to prove your loyalty.”

Mouse did not like the sound of that. “What am I doing?” he asked.

“Distraction for now.”

Mouse really didn’t like that.

“If you get caught and you're lucky, or good, we get you out. If not, you’re on your own, alright?” Sap asked.

Mouse sighed. “I get it, I can do that.”

“Good, we’re moving out tonight. Do what you want until then.”

By the time nighttime came, Mouse was beginning to get nervous. The idea of spending even a night in another prison was terrifying. The idea of having his freedom taken from him again tore at his soul, and the only reason why he wasn’t digging his hooves in against the whole idea of being here was because Cut did get him out of the Canterlot Jail.

There was no reason to believe that Sap wouldn’t likewise get him out if he did the job. It didn’t make sense for Sap to simply abandon him, leaving him to rot in the deepest, darkest dungeons, locked away from the sun, rivers, trees, and apples. To be torn away from the world and forgotten in the darkness.

He released a shaky breath.

“I’ll be fine,” he told himself. “Just do what they want, and I’ll be fine.”

It’s like cut told him, he reminded himself, he’s a part of the family now. The family takes care of itself.

He forced himself to steady his breath. He had to focus.

He was sitting on the roof of one of the seaside houses, not the one being cased, but the one directly to the left. A team of two ponies, a pair of unicorns, were working on the target house. They started by unlocking the highest window from the outside with a simple telekinesis spell, and slipping inside.

They were good at it, they dropped down and got through the window in a little more than a minute, long before the guards patrolling the streets and docks below.

Mouse kept watching the glowing stone at his hooves. The spell on it would last exactly twenty minutes, and once the light on it dimmed, Mouse would have to make his move and get the attention of as many guards as possible. The unicorns inside, neither of which he knew, had their own stone with its own spell, and once theirs went out, they would leave.

It was all very synchronized, and Mouse was certainly impressed with it all. It had a touch of professionalism that the Canterlot branch simply didn’t have. In fact, he could almost close his eyes, and pretend that it was a real, normal job.

Almost.

He sighed, before he checked the street again, watching the passing guards, trying to guess which of them would be the lucky guard to catch him tonight. There were pegasi everywhere, hovering across streets and docks and floating between ships. So far, none of them flew over the houses, though Mouse wasn’t sure why. Where else would thieves and miscreants be?

Although, if it kept him from being found, Mouse would not complain.

And then he blinked.

Was that…?

He slowly leaned forward, leaning up against the short crenelations of the house to stare down at the street below. A single, earth pony mare, dressed in armor walked down the streets, a torch held aloft in one hoof as she hobbled.

Mouse blinked as he looked at her. Unless he was mistaken, that was the same exact mare he met earlier, the first night he was working for Cut. What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she back in Canterlot? What happened?

He watched her as she moved, her downtrodden step and her determined face.

It was a look that Mouse was very familiar with. It was the look of a pony that didn’t want to be here.

His stone began to dim. It was almost time to make a distraction.

But now, now he had a plan forming. His magic grabbed the little stone, waiting for it to die, and let it hover next to his side as he continued to wait.

The stone grew dimmer.

He waited.

Dimmer still.

He slowly raised the stone.

It went out.

Using every ounce of his magical might, he threw the stone, letting it ring against the mare’s armor as it slammed into her. “Oi!” He yelled, screaming at the top of his lungs as the eyes of the mare and several other pegasi looked up at him. “Sarding guards! You’re too slow to catch me!”

The bait worked surprisingly well, and guards from every section of the street turned to him. There was a beat, and the the guards yelled. “Get him!”

Mouse ran, up and down the peaked roofs of the houses, crossing from one to another before finally hitting the street. He grabbed rope they had used to climb up from the sewers and leapt down, sliding down the rope before landing hard.

“He’s over here!” One of the pegasi yelled as a team of three of them dived at him from the building.

Mouse ran, heading down the inland street leading the guards after him and away from the sewer grate that they had used to approach the house. His legs were pumping, and Mouse once again hated this plan and everything it stood for.

The open street provided no cover, and no place to hide as he ran. Pegasi were gaining on him in the air, moving just faster than him as they flew above the cobble stones. Still, he would make good time, he knew it. He would be able to take the next turn and—

Thwip!

He pulled his head left out of sheer reflex as a crossbow bolt passed by his face.

It was so close it cut a hole in his cloak.

He ran left, taking the next street, before he saw, too late that he had been led into a trap. Pegasi were flying over the houses, blocking off the street ahead of him.

Just like that, everything went wrong.

With guards ahead of him, and guards behind, he had nowhere to go. The buildings were too close for alleys of escape. He was trapped in that one instant, and he knew it.

It was over just like that.

He looked back, where pegasi and the earth pony mare were closing the distance.

It was too soon. The guards were too close to the case.

If one of them were caught, he could kiss his freedom goodbye forever.

He had no choice.

He ran for the oncoming guards, switching directions in a second as the whole Baltimare Guard bore down on him. They rose spears and crossbows, ready to cut him down if he started a fight.

He was close now, seconds away from impaling himself on their weapons, when he ran towards the buildings he jumped, hitting the wall and leaping off the side.

He wasn’t sure how he got past the line of guards, he had actually closed his eyes as he flew through the air, the only thing he was sure of was that he landed on the cobblestones, and the guards were somehow behind him.

There was a second, and honest second, where everyone had stopped to stare at him.

Although, that could have been Mouse’s imagination.

Then he ran, heading back up the street as crossbow bolts followed after him.

Another left, and he was heading inland, further from the docks and closer to the seedier parts of town. He had to keep going, had to keep running so the guards couldn’t catch him.

A right. A left. Another right. Left. Left again.

They were so close.

They were just behind him, cutting over buildings and getting in front of him at every turn. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.

He took another left, coming around the corner, when an armored hoof connected with his face.

He spun, landing hard on his back as the earth pony mare stared down at him. “You’re not getting away this time, Shorty.”

They bodily dragged to the Baltimare jail.

He had resigned himself to this fate, he would just have to go to jail, for the good of the gang…

It was what he was doomed to.

He was pulled to a small building by the dock. They pushed him into a small holding cell, and Mouse waited to be pulled away into whatever dungeon they had planned for him.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited still.

This was taking far too long.

In fact, he knew this was taking too long.

He got up from the little cot against the wall, and moved to his barred door. “What’s taking so long?” he asked.

The guard at the desk glanced at him. “What? Your sentence? You’re here until we let you go.”

Mouse blinked. “This is the prison?”

The guard gave him a look.

Mouse couldn’t believe it.

This was it. An above-ground, ten by five foot room that was less than fifteen feet from the outside. This was the Baltimare prison.

No, no it wasn’t a prison, this was a house with a barred room. He could leave anytime, it wouldn’t be any challenge, one, maybe two locks and he was a free pony.

Mouse walked back to his little cot, and sat, unbelieving that this was the worst Baltimare had to offer.

He finally smiled.

This was the kind of luck he could live with this.

Chapter 9

When Cut explained that the unicorn nobles simply live off their fortunes, he was not quite correct. If that were true, Mouse learned, then they would have stayed in Unicornia, living off the farms they own, while cursing the incredibly massive agricultural output of the Earth ponies. In fact, most noble families that moved to Equestria had little to begin with. They came to build their fortunes much in the same way the nobles of old has built theirs.

Farmland was quickly bought by Earth ponies, and anypony that tried to compete with their natural abilities to grow anywhere and in nearly any soil would soon find themselves broke without a copper bit to their name. So, instead the unicorns focused on more economic pursuits. They bought shops, set up banks, and most importantly, they made magic.

Magical items, specifically. By using gemstones of various cuts and carats, a unicorn of sufficient skill can create a spell matrix, a system to cast a spell using any pony’s natural magic. Magical bags, blades, cloaks, amulets, even the very rare, very expensive and very special spell staves were all built, enchanted and sold by unicorns.

As a result, unicorn nobles tend to spend most of their time studying the magical pursuit, and even the lowest noble was a powerful wizard in their own right.

Now, perhaps Cut misunderstood their scholarly lifestyle, and misjudged the source of their wealth. Sap argued that Cut just hated unicorns. Honestly, Mouse didn't really believe either one was the case, but he didn’t care. He was far more focused on his first, real job.

The wealthiest of unicorn nobles, one of whom was Mouse’s target, were landowners. They did not, however, own farmland, instead they had mines. The lifeblood of every enchanter was gemstones, and the pony the controlled the gemstones, controlled the nobles beneath him.

Lady Ruby was one such noble, and owned the mine in the nearby mountain just outside of Baltimare. She made millions of gold bits selling the gems to Canterlot and Manehatten, as well as a few thousand on the three or so enchanted pieces she produced in a month. With the amount of gold passing through her hooves, Mouse wondered why they hadn’t already robbed her blind.

“You can’t take food from the same pot everytime,” Sap said, slightly incoherently as he enjoyed some more of his surplus drugs, “cause otherwise, it empties, and you can’t eat anymore.”

It was not the best metaphor, but Mouse understood. Besides, he thought now that the idea was in his head, it probably also kept the guards guessing and lazy, so they weren’t constantly watching for his fellow thieves.

The job was straightforward, if not simple. The Lady’s latest magical item, a set of daggers, needed to be taken. Sap said their employer didn’t care what happened to them he just wanted them gone, so the head of the Baltimare branch said Mouse could keep them if he wanted.

Mouse, personally was intrigued to know that they had an employer.

He never got an answer as to who that was. Instead he was told that they had come into a streak of good fortune. This was the perfect night for the job, since the Princess just announced a day of mourning for Clover the Clever, who had died of a sudden and serious illness the other day.

Mouse asked when that was announced.

He didn’t get an answer to that one either.

“The streets will be empty, there’d only be a small number of guards on the street, and even few servants at the mansion.”

Also is no one going to question the illness? You’re all just going to believe that?

No answers to those either.

Eventually, he was pushed out from the hideout and pointed in the direction of her mansion. Mouse sighed as he refocused on the place, trying to set his questions aside as he tried to find the best way in.

Lady Ruby’s mansion sat on a small hill on the edge of the city, where she owned a large plot of land that stretched on for five or six acres. The mansion itself was three stories tall, and wide enough to fit five of the other Baltimare houses between the walls.

It was both opulent, and a lot of ground to cover.

The rest of her land was a series of gardens, orchards, and flowerbeds that were tended to by a number of earth pony servants. He did see some of the gardens, and even he was impressed with what he saw. Beautiful rows of purple, red, and white flowers all perfectly organized and lush. It was as though Mother Nature had simply come by, and organized this plot of land. There was not a branch that needed pruning, nor a flower out of place.

A thought about trying to disguise himself as one of the gardeners did cross his mind, but he was sure that a unicorn would stand out a bit.

He focused again on the mansion, and contemplated on the best point of entry. The windows were out of the question for anyone that wasn’t a pegasus, while the front door was no doubt suicide.

Of course, he still had to figure out where to go once inside. What he did know was that he would have to figure it out soon, as night was fast approaching.

Another idea came to him, and his eyes were drawn over to the open cellar where a handful of earth ponies were moving barrels of fruits and vegetables. That...that was a bit more manageable.

All he had to do was wait.

When the time came, Mouse slid into the cellar, his lockpicking spell working through the simple lock with ease. It was dark down here, but Mouse didn’t have much trouble, the time in the Canterlot prison still kept his eyes sharp for the shadows.

Looking around he found himself surrounded by barrels. Cured carrots, pickles, dried apples, candied oranges, and the like all surrounded him. Food filled the room, building walls of barrels and consumables throughout the whole of the room.

First he checked the barrels. After all, he had to make sure that the barrels of dried apples weren’t mislabeled as a part of some devious plot to smuggle the daggers out. He also had to eat a healthy portion of them to make sure they were also not suspect.

With his initial findings coming up inconclusive, he quickly began to move towards the doorway. He climbed up the flight of wooden stairs, pausing with every creak and crack that they offered when he climbed them.

Maybe he should have prayed to Luna.

He still wasn’t sure what to think about the supposed gods that lived in Equestria. Half the gang prayed to them, the other half didn’t, some said they were real, others said they weren’t. It was a constant back and forth between the two.

As for himself, Mouse wasn’t sure if they were real or not. Yes, it would be easy to blame them for his awful childhood, but it was also easy to blame random chance. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which, and he had spent enough of his teenage years blaming fate that he didn’t care much anymore.

It was in the past, it was time to move forward, and if the gods were offering help for the price of a prayer, then why not take it?

“Praise Luna, goddess of moonlight, hide me in the shadow of your wings,” he muttered, repeating the prayer that he had heard Cut and the faithful thieves offered. “Grant me the swiftness of night, and the vision of stars. So be it.”

With his prayer finished, he moved on, pressing against the door softly until it cracked open. Light shone in from the hallway, and the Mouse blinked crazily from the sudden change. Candlelight flickered from unseen candelabras, decorating the hallway in long, flickering shadows as warm yellow light danced across the walls.

He saw no one, and heard nothing, and summoning all his daring, he pushed forward through the door. The hallway was empty, as he had hoped, and he risked a sigh of relief once he was sure he was alone.

With that, he prepared his invisibility spell, and shimmered out of sight. Now covered by his spell, he felt more at ease, and he quickly began to move. He checked down the hallway, searching for anything that may give a hint as the locations of the daggers. He moved quickly, staying on the rich carpet so that his hoofsteps would be silent as he moved.

And then he paused.

The smell of spiced fruit and vegetables wafted under his nose, when suddenly the door next to him shot open.

“Oi! Careful with the door, you clutz!” A voice yelled, as Mouse nearly leapt from his skin. He shuffled quickly, moving to the side of the hallway as he tried to make room for a silver cart that was being pushed into the hall by a couple of earth ponies.

“What? You saying she can’t afford a new door? It’s fine,” one of the earth ponies pushing the cart said before his partner slapped him upside the head.

“She can afford a new door, you can’t and if you damage that door, it’s coming out of your pay,” the mare said, as she pushed the cart forward.

“Eh, fine!” the young stallion muttered. “Of course, it’s not like she actually leaves her workshop long enough to see the other doors.”

“Keep thinking like that and you’ll be on the streets before you know it,” the older mare said.

Clinging to the wall, Mouse watched as the two ponies moved, pushing the cart down the hall to another room.

“You worry too much,” the stallion said, smirking. “Like I said, it’s not like she leaves her little study. If she doesn't leave, she won't see then. Then again, it ain't healthy, so she probably won't live long anyway.”

“She already has left,” she replied, “she just finished a major project, she’s taking her dinner in her bedroom, or did you not hear that?”

The conversation went back and forth a bit, the stallion going on about how Lady Ruby was a lazy, weak shut in, that was probably going to die soon anyway if her health didn't improve, while the mare kept coming to the Lady’s defense.

Mouse was just happy that it was masking his hoofsteps.

They pushed the cart down to a another door, which opened to reveal a wooden floor, ropes, and a strange series of dears and pulleys.

“You know, I have to wonder what she does in there,” the stallion said as he lifted the cart over the lip of the large dumbwaiter.

“She does her work,” the mare answered, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Does she though?” the stallion asked. “I mean, you’ve heard the stories of the unicorn nobles.”

“Herb, she does not—”

“They can’t all be wrong,” Herb said. “Like at least one of those stories has to be true.”

Mouse was barely paying attention, he was more concerned with judging whether or not he could fit in the dumbwaiter with them.

“Look, all I’m saying is, Earthonia kept saying the unicorns had crazy orgies with magical ghosts, and with how much our lady is probably unhinged, I wouldn't be surprised.”

Mouse did pause at that.

The mare shook her head and hid her face in her hoof. “You are the biggest idiot.”

“She shuts herself in there for days at a time, and when she finally comes out, she tired and sweaty and—”

“Just shut up,” she said, as she pushed the cart in, with Mouse squeezing in. “Get us up there,” she ordered.

“Look, I’m not seeing evidence to the—”

“I said get us up there. If you want proof, you can you check the workshop yourself.”

Now that caught Mouse’s attention. If he was going to be led straight to the daggers, then this was going to be easy. All he had to do was follow this Herb guy and it would be a done deal.

The dumbwaiter lurched, and it began to rise as Herb worked a set of pedals to get the dumbwaiter moving. He grunted. “It’s...a...little tough tonight…” he said as he worked them.

Mouse figured that he was to blame for that, and just hoped that Herb would keep blaming the sticky gears.

Up and up they went, past the second floor and to the third, when Herb quickly kicked a wedge into place, locking them in place. “Alright, gosh that was harder than normal.”

“Come on,” the mare said, opening the dumbwaiter door, “we’ve kept the Lady waiting long enough.”

They moved forward, rolling the silver cart down the hallway with the yet unnamed mare leading Herb as he pushed. Mouse followed at a distance, watching them as they came upon a door in the middle of the hallway.

Mouse stayed back as he watched the mare knock softly. “Lady Ruby, your dinner is here.”

“Yes, yes, come in,” came the muffled, tired reply.

Well that was obviously the bedroom, and not what Mouse was looking for. He glanced up and down the hall, trying to discern which door was the workshop as Herb and the mare led the tray in.

“Oh, thank you, Candy,” a young, but very tired voice said. “You’re too sweet.”

“And you work too hard, Mi’lady,” the mare replied as the door closed behind her.

Mouse checked the hallway again. This much time was starting to strain his spell, and if they were going to sit by her as she ate, then he might find the workshop on his own before they leave the room.

He checked back at the door, and began to move, dropping his spell for some much needed relief. Now that the spell wasn’t a constant drone in his head, he quickly began checking the doors.

The first one was a bedroom, with a king-sized bed covered in more blankets and pillows than Mouse thought was necessary. A quick look revealed a pointed lack of magical knives, and he moved on to the next room, closing the door behind him.

This one was a study, covered wall-to-wall in bookshelves, all filled with books. As he checked the titles, he was disappointed to see that only a few were on the nature of magic, the rest were religious texts, fictional pieces, and collections on legal documents.

He moved on to the next room.

It was a lounge, with a few overstuffed chairs, end tables, and statues filling the floor. The next room was another bedroom. Bedroom. Chess room. Bedroom. Bedroom again.

And then his ears perked as he heard the twisting of a doorknob.

Panic flooded his veins as his heart leapt to his throat, and he looked down the hallway to see Herb’s muzzle poking out of the door.

He’d be caught in a moment.

The mission was over.

He was caught.

They were going to call the guards and Mouse would have to fight for his life.

And by the time he thought that, he was already making his way through the closest door. Finally registering his own actions, he fought every instinct to slam the door shut, and prayed to every one of the gods he knew that Herb didn’t hear the soft ‘click’ of the latch.

With his heart pounding, he looked around the room, eyes darting frantically from corner to corner.

A small, and oddly calm part of his brain took not of the softly glowing rune circle that sat in the middle of the floor with a six-pointed star at its center, and deduced that this must be the workshop he was looking for.

The rest of him was trying to find a place to hide. He dove for a nearby desk, gathering his cloak around him, and hoped that Herb wouldn’t follow up on his curiosity.

He waited, silent, trying to still his pounding heart as tried to gather his strength to cast his spell once more.

A second passed.

Another.

It felt like an eternity as he tried to gather his magic.

It was almost there.

One more second and he’d be safe from prying eyes.

He gathered the magic in his horn—

‘Click.’

—and froze.

He didn’t need to see it to know that Herb had opened the workshop door, he could hear the earth pony breathing as he stepped into the room, whistling a low note as he took in the stacks of scrolls, tomes, apparati that dotted the room.

Mouse dared not make a sound.

He didn’t dare cast his spell as the sound of magic would give him away in an instant. The most he could do was reach out with his telekinesis, but he didn’t dare that with the silence that permeated the room.

So he sat, holding his breath, trying to release an exhale as softly as he could.

Herb’s hoofsteps were like thunder in his ears as he made his way to the center of the room. “Huh,” he said to himself, in a voice that may as well have been a dragon roar to Mouse. “I bet she uses this to summon all her orgy ghosts.”

“Just leave,” Mouse hissed in his thoughts, whispering in mind as though there were a chance that Herb could hear it.

Yet more thundering hoofsteps. “Wow, that’s a lot of books.”

“Yes, you’ve seen it, now go…”

“Let’s see, ‘The Five Schools of Magic,’” Herb read aloud as he looked over a stack of books. “‘The Four Classic Schools,’ and ‘The Sixth School of Friendship?’ What by Peme’s Trees does that mean?”

“Just go, you dolt,” Mouse mentally whispered, gritting his teeth all the way through.

Herb grunted. There was a rustling of paper, and a sudden, unholy racket as a powerful thud echoed in the room.

“Oh, sard!” Herb cursed, before his hoofsteps thundered toward the door. Mouse heard it open and slam shut before his released his breath and cast his spell.

Back under the veil of invisibility, Mouse looked up from around the desk to see one of the stack of books scattered across the room. Herb must have knocked it over, and left while the going was good.

Mouse, meanwhile, was stuck in the room until someone came in to check on the noise and—

He blinked.

There were the knives.

Laying on a podium, the pair of curved daggers almost shimmered in the light of the rune circle, and some strange aura about them told Mouse that they were hungry. Shaped like a pair of sickles, the silver blades were covered in veins of blue steel, while the two, carefully cut rubies set into the guard almost looked like perfect, crimson drops of blood.

Mouse only had to look at them before he knew they had to be his. He reached out with his telekinesis, grabbing the blades in his aura, and pulled.

The knives stayed still.

Mouse blinked, confused, before he suddenly realized what had happened. The ends of his magic, invisible strings that he felt more than saw, were frayed, cut to pieces by the enchantment. Only the magic that connected to the handles were intact.

He pulled again, hoping to take a closer look when he had more time, this time, focusing solely upon the carefully carved ivory handles. This time, the daggers obeyed, and flew to his side, with just enough time to fit them into his magical bag before the door to the room burst open once again.

A mare with a brilliant red mane and a soft, ivory coat ran in, dressed in a silk, white gown. “What’s going on?” she nearly yelled as she came in. “Who—? She began, before her eyes fell on the podium. “My daggers! Someone took my daggers! Thief! Thief!”

Mouse stayed quiet, all the way until Lady Ruby left, and then, trying to maintain his focus, he took his leave.

Mouse did not drop his invisibility spell until he was back in Baltimare proper. He did not risk being seen until the Ruby mansion was out of sight. He wandered the dark streets, walking back to The Highwayman's Alehouse in a wandering gait.

He didn’t want to rush back and risk outing the hideout, but at the same time, the less time he spent on the streets the better. The last thing he needed to do was get caught by a guard.

Overall, though, things went surprisingly well. Yes, he probably should have waited for Herb to leave the Lady's chamber and lead him to the workshop rather than try and find it himself, but it still worked out.

It was like his luck really was changing.

“Stop right there!” a voice yelled, and Mouse, despite his first instinct, froze. A mare in guard walked up to him, and Mouse soon found himself staring at the earth pony mare that he had thrown a rock at the other day. “Well, well,” she said, glaring at him with steely, blue eyes, “if it isn’t the troublemaker. I’ve been meaning to ask you what you’re doing here?”

“Tonight? Going home, I—” Mouse began.

“What are you doing in Baltimare?” she specified. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize you, you were that little panhandler back in Canterlot. I knew you were up to something then, and I know you’re up to something now.”

Mouse stared at her for what felt like a long time. She was bigger than him, probably stronger than him, and was a guard. She checked every single box from Mouse’s list of despicable ponies along with every other guard from the Canterlot prisons. She was a pony that he would normally run and hide from. She was normally someone that he would not dare look in the eyes.

But perhaps it was the freedom he had been growing accustomed to. Maybe it was the fact that Baltimare’s prisons were a joke. Or maybe, just maybe, he had finally had enough of being their punching bag.

Whatever the case he glared back into her eyes and spoke, “and what are you going to do about it officer?”

“That’s Officer Golden Shield to you, scum,” she sneered, “and luckily for you, I can’t do anything. I’m not one of those bird brains that so full of themselves that I spit feathers when I talk. I can’t bring you in on a feeling. I don’t get that privilege, but I want you to know, scum, that the second I have proof, I will bring you down.”

Mouse stared into Golden Shield’s eyes and smirked. “Then I guess I’ll be on my way.”

Chapter 10

The knives were the talk of the thieves for weeks.

While before he was “the new guy” who barely knew a person by name, now he was the center of attention, with ponies crowding around his lunch table. The Twin Moons, as they had come to be known as were stuck into the table, with thieves gathered around them, staring and practically drooling as the thousand bit daggers shone in the filtered light of the sectioned off sewers.

“Just look at those beauties,” a thief whispered as Mouse chewed his apple bread, “Why If I had one of those, I could be the terror of Unicornia.”

Shade, the earth pony that had brought in the crate of blackglass when Mouse first showed up stared at the knives enviously. “Aye...you wouldn’t need to sneak about with knives like that. There wouldn’t be a unicorn to stop you,” he said, reaching for the gleaming, crescent blades.

Mouse smacked the hoof away, before pulling both blades into his magical bag. “Hey, keep your sticky hooves to your own stuff, Shade. The daggers are mine.”

“I wasn’t gonna nick ‘em!” Shade grunted. “And if I was you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Dusk, the pegasus who was almost always seen next to Shade, on the rare occasion that he wanted to be seen, grunted. “This isn’t fair is what it is. Your first job and you get paid with knives fourteen times worth what I get.”

Mouse smiled, keeping one hoof on the opening of his bag while he sat in his chair. “Guess I’m just lucky.”

“Luck my eye! I should have had that job!” Shade growled.

“You wouldn’t have made it in the house,” another thief grunted.

“I could have,” Dusk said.

“Probably, unless the knives were in someone’s pockets,” another thief laughed.

“You wanna go? I’ll take you on!”

“Oi! The lot of ya! Shut up!” all heads turned to Big Sap, who stood in the doorway of the surprisingly clean cistern-cum-cafeteria. “Mouse, I’ve got another job.”

The unicorn leapt out of his chair and squeezed his way through the crowd, coming out on the other side to stand in front of Sap. “What’s the job?”

Sap frowned, before leading Mouse into the room that had been designated as his office. “Our employer needs some bits stolen,” Sap said, sitting at his desk.

“About that, who is our emplo—”

“The trick, is that you’re going to have to steal from a Golden Revolutionary.”

Mouse blinked, and silence filled the little office.

You could hear the thieves in the room beyond, drinking and enjoying their spoils through the stone walls and the thick oak door.

A long moment passed, before Mouse spoke up. “What’s a Golden Revolutionary?”

Sap sighed. “Come on, boy, this is your history!”

“I’ve been more concerned with living, thank you,” Mouse responded, deciding that was an easier explanation that growing up in prison.

Sap sighed again. “Alright, you know of Princess Platinum?”

“Yes,” Mouse answered.

“She used to be the crown princess of Unicornia. When she left, the throne passed to her sister Princess Gold, but something happened, and the youngest sister, Princess Silver took the crown. Gold was exiled instead, but a bunch of nobles that don’t like that have been backing Gold forever now, so there are all kinds of little wars all across Unicornia.”

Sap opened a drawer, and ruffled through it for a page. “Now, the Goldies like hanging around Equestria because they blame Platinum for all this, and something about the politics being easier, but that’s not important. The important thing is, they’re crazy, they’re here, we have a good share of targets, and our employer hates them with a passion.”

He set the page down on the desk, revealing a map of Baltimare. He pointed at a house on the outskirts, circled in red. “Your job is to head there, grab anything and everything you can, and leave the Goldy broke, alright?”

Mouse nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good, take care of that tonight, and you get 20% of whatever you catch.”

Mouse nodded, and began to head out, when Sap spoke again. “And Mouse?”

“Yeah?”

“It has...come to my attention that your latest reward has gotten some...ire of the rest of the gang.”

Mouse looked Sap over. “Yes?” he asked expectantly.

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to suffer for a job well done, so I’m prepared to offer you three thousand gold bits for the pair.”

Mouse raised an eyebrow. He knew the fences priced a single dagger for five thousand at least. Anything less than that was, well, thievery.

“I’ll pass…” Mouse muttered suspiciously.

“Are you sure?” Sap asked. “I know it’s a couple of bits short, but that’s the price you’d pay for some peace of mind.”

“A couple of bits?” The small unicorn repeated in his mind. Yes, perhaps in the same sense that he spent a couple of years in jail. “I’ve had worse,” Mouse said, before he left the office, and ran down the hallways.

Mouse slowly walked through Baltimare, heading for the outskirts so that he could check out the Revolutionary’s home before night fall, when he was suddenly joined by a slightly smaller stallion. “Well, well, funny running into you here.”

Mouse looked down at him surprised at the sudden appearance of none other than Cut Purse himself. “Cut?” he asked, completely surprised.

“Yup, just taking a walk. Glad to see you, by the way.”

“No, no! It’s great to see you, but...what are you doing here?”

“Are you busy?” Cut asked.

“Um...I have to be somewhere once it gets clean,” Mouse admitted, “but...until then I think it’s fine.”

“Good, good,” Cut said, before pulling Mouse back in town. “Listen, I’m not a guy to tell ponies how to do their job. That isn’t my schtick. The problem is I still expect ponies to do their job, regardless of how they do it.”

Mouse nodded.

“Now, I’ve heard that the business might be having some issues here, so I’m here to check it out, and...well...I’ll need a pair of eyes,” Cut said, throwing a meaningful look back towards Mouse.

He nodded slowly. So he was a spy then? He was to watch the Baltimare branch. He could do that.

“But that’s business, how’ve ya been without me?”

“Well, I was hired to help out a stuffed shirt the other day, and I bought a new set of knives.”

Cut’s brow furrowed. “Did you go by yourself?”

Mouse nodded. “The Boss said it was a one-pony job.”

“And you got out alright?”

“Yeah, it was exciting work.”

Cut frowned. “Follow me,” he said, leading Mouse down a street to another squat, but well-built building.

Cut quickly made his way inside, and Mouse was quick on his heels. Cut shut the door behind him, and they were finally free of the wandering eyes and curious ears of the street. The house seemed empty, but Cut didn’t move past the foyer regardless.

“Sap sent you to rob from a noble? Already? And by yourself?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mouse admitted. “Why? Is that a big deal?”

“That’s a nearly a death sentence,” Cut said. “You don’t send a new thief into a noble’s house alone, especially not here. The Baltimare nobles can range anywhere from ruthless to downright vindictive when it comes to someone taking their stuff. The nicest ones are going to make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your life, no bail, no parole.”

Mouse blinked. “But...it wasn’t that hard…”

Cut looked at him like he grew a second head. “I think your luck’s making up for something,” he said. “Because there is no reason that should have been easy.”

“Sap said it was a good job because the Princess announced the day of mourning.”

Cut shook his head. “Sap wants you gone is what that tells me.”

Mouse blinked, shocked by the thought. “Why? What did I do?”

“It may have been something you didn’t do…” Cut muttered. “Alright, look. For now stick to smaller jobs, don’t deal with the nobles, and watch your back in the den. In the meantime, act like nothing’s wrong, okay?”

“Well, hang on, what if I get arrested?” Mouse asked. “I mean, I can get out, but I want to save that for—”

“Don’t worry about that. You came in by my recommendation. The Big Boss knows you’re here. If Sap can get you out, he has to. If he wants you gone, he either needs you to take a dirt nap or annoy the nobles bad enough that they want you in a jail cell coffin.”

Mouse nodded, before a thought crossed his mind. “Is that why Sap offered me the knives?”

“What knives?” Cut asked.

Mouse drew one from his magic bag, and showed the sickle-like blade to the smaller stallion.

“Was that the reward for the job?” Cut asked.

“He said our employer didn’t care what happened to it,” Mouse explained.

Cut groaned. “You’re not supposed to...ugh…” he sighed, his head in his hooves. “Okay. Look, things are complicated, and I need you to be my eyes and ears down there. Can you do that for me, or do we need to get you out?”

“No, I can work, besides, I kinda like it here in Baltimare.”

“Good, just be sure to watch your back out there, this isn’t a friendly home. Don’t report to me until you find something that hurts the business, once you do, I can get Sap what’s coming to him.”

Mouse nodded. “Alright, I’ll keep my eye open.”

Cut nodded, and smiled. “I knew you were the stallion for the job, I knew it.”

Mouse smiled at the praise, before he spoke. “By the way, who is our employer?”

“Earth pony landowner,” Cut explained quickly. “Hates Equestria, trying and failing to bring about economic ruin. It does pay well, though,” he said before he sent Mouse on his way. “Go on, now, before anyone realizes you’re gone. I’ll be here when you’re ready to report. And remember, we never spoke.”

Mouse smirked as he stepped out the door. “Of course not.”

Cut smiled, and shut the door, leaving Mouse alone in the street.

Mouse frown, before he began to walk back toward the outskirts where the revolutionary was waiting for him. His thoughts went to Sap, and what exactly that entailed for him.

Sap wanted him dead, or gone at least, and that meant sending on him on difficult missions. There was no question that the daggers he now had were supposed to be bait, which meant it was no wonder that everyone in the den wanted them.

But the bigger question was why. Why did Sap want to get rid of him? What did he do? What could Mouse have possibly done to gain the ire of a pony he barely knew? What could have possibly—

“Well, well. Look who it is,” a voice said behind him.

Mouse frowned as he turned to see the mare, officer Golden Shield standing behind him, and glaring.

“Hello, officer,” Mouse grunted. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to, thief?”

“Thief?” Mouse asked, as years of rebellion bubbled to the surface. “That’s quite the accusation to make without proof, wouldn’t you say?”

“That’s only a matter of time,” she said as she walked up next to him, glaring all the way.

“Is it now?” Mouse asked. “That’s odd, because I imagine it'd be hard to find proof of an event that never happened.”

“You just wait, thief, I will find it,” she warned.

“My dear, if I were to steal something, I doubt you would find it.”

“Is that a challenge?” She asked.

“One I doubt you could live up to,” Mouse said with a smirk.

The revolutionary lived in a smaller building not far from the edge of town. It stood outside the walls that were built around the first founding buildings of the city, but the actual edge of town was still far enough away that the goldie was still relatively protected.

Unfortunately for him, protection from the wild and protection from the city were two different things. This was officially the poor end of town, the buildings, though nicer than the Alehouse, were by no means noble, but that made it perfect for a stallion like Mouse.

Mouse snuck through the covered alleys built by the jettying of the newer, wooden buildings. He watched and waited, letting the guards fly past as they held their torches aloft, caring little for the poorer ponies.

He smiled as an opening presented itself, and he slipped across the street, with only the flutter of his cloak to give him away. He ducked into another alley, formed by two houses where neither perceived the chance of a neighbor. The alley was thin, and a pony could hardly walk down its length.

It was the perfect width for what Mouse needed.

Pushing against both walls, he forced himself up off the ground and into air, up the walls until he reached the jettying walls of the second floor.

With the jutting walls now closer together, his speed picked up until he finally reached the Goldie’s window, looking out on a view it had for a few weeks at most.

It was now the thief’s front door.

He slipped in and went to work, grabbing everything he could get his hooves on and sliding them into his magical bag. He didn't care what he grabbed, it hardly mattered to him.

He emptied a drawer, dumping the contents in the bag, smiling wildly at the thought of Golden Shield’s face. The thought that she was never going to catch him for this was intoxicating. It would be the ultimate revenge to finally stick it to the guards after two decades of being their plaything.

That's what he was stealing for. Not Sap. Not the gang. Not the earth pony landowner he had never met. Not even Cut. No, he was stealing for the simple pleasure of watching the face of Golden Shield as she failed to catch him.

For now, that was enough for Mouse.

Gold? Into the bag. Silver? Into the bag. Heirlooms? Bag. Trinkets? Bag. Mouse even tried to fit in a small, but wonderfully carved table into the small mouth of the magical bag. Anything and everything that Mouse could think of to get the attention of the guard.

The bigger the problem he made, the better. If he could get the entire guard after him, then that would make it all the better when he watched them as he ate from the food stalls.

Actually that sounded very fun. He set that idea aside for later, smirking at the thought even as he entered the next room.

The door swung open, revealing the small room and the the stallion who owned it.

He was fast asleep, lying on his cot with a simple sheet to cover him.

Mouse took a quick look around, and noted the small statuette on the small end table next to bed, and held it up in what little light there was.

It was a small, golden unicorn, that wore a crown decorated with small jewels. The resemblance to Princess Platinum was uncanny, and it did not take Mouse more than a second to realize this was probably a statuette of the now infamous Princess Gold.

He looked it over, and the heft alone made it obvious that it was real gold.

Then he looked back to stallion.

And then he set the little statuette back on the table.

Sap frowned as he checked his notes, reading over the blur of numbers with a shard of blackglass spinning in his hooves.

This would be difficult. Not hard, but difficult. With Cut’s spy snooping around he’d have to keep things tight now, can’t make any mistakes or the boss’ eye might wander toward him. If the boss started digging, he’d find the lie Sap had built around him and he just couldn’t afford that kind of attention.

He’d be on the headsman’s block in a week if the boss found out.

He muttered, cursing the new stallion. He had to come in and start ruining everything. He had to put his nose where it didn’t belong. He had to refuse Sap’s little bribe of blackglass. That was the worst. What kind of thief has enough honor to refuse a bribe? No, that was when Sap knew this little stallion was real trouble.

So he had to get rid of him. That wasn’t hard. All it would take was a dangerous job, and once their employer had a suitable mission for him, Sap was quick to hand it off and let the problem take care of itself.

Then he had to pull off the noble job so well that they blamed one of the servants for it.

That proved it. This wasn’t just a spy, this was a professional. This was one best plants Sap had ever seen. It was obvious that Sap had given him too much breathing room with the day of mourning, he couldn’t play with this guy. No, he had to do something serious.

Very serious.

Bribes to the guards came to mind, but he shook that thought. He wouldn’t trust the Baltimare guards as far as a unicorn could throw them, they’d turn on the thief delivering the bribe just as fast as accept it. No, that couldn’t work.

More dangerous work came to mind, but with how well the spy had managed to pull of the last noble job, Sap wasn’t sure.

No, he needed something that was more certain. He needed this guy out of the picture as soon as possible.

He needed—

The door slammed open, and Sap spun to see Mouse standing in the doorway, with a bag hovering beside him. “I’m back.”

“Right,” Sap nodded, regarding the spy with suspicion as he did his best to hide his mistrust, “I can see that.”

Mouse upended the bag, pouring out silverware, gold, an odd piece of furniture or two and everything he had taken from the revolutionary’s house. When the bag emptied of what Mouse wanted to give, he grabbed a gold coin from the pile. “Take this from my cut,” he said, before he turned and walked out.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” Sap asked.

Mouse paused in the hallway, and looked back. “I’m...not comfortable these days with so many thieves looking for knives.”

“They’re not supposed to steal from members in the gang,” Sap noted.

“‘Not supposed to’ and ‘won’t’ are two different things,” Mouse said. “I’m just going to spend the night at an inn, enjoy some goosefeather for a change. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Sap’s eyes narrowed. “Right…” he muttered.

But Mouse paid him no mind, and went on his way.

As morning dawned, Mouse sat outside the Fox’s Heart Inn, and smiled as he drank a cup of morning tea outside.

He had purchased a room just as the innkeeper came down to open up, along with breakfast. This gave him a wonderful opportunity to watch the Baltimare guard as they rushed through the streets, searching for the thief that had insulted their honor.

It was quite the story apparently, a unicorn’s home had been broken into. It was all quite terrible, but what made it worse was not simply that the unicorn had had nearly everything stolen, but also the message scrawled in ink on the wall.

The message itself was almost scandalous, claiming the guard couldn’t find their own tailholes or some such, while calling out a particular officer in particular, a miss Golden Shield, saying that she, in particular, couldn’t catch him if she tried.

Or so Mouse heard, he wasn’t sure.

But the slight against the guard had gotten out, and they could not let it stand.

It was hilarious to watch them scramble about, searching this way and that for any sign of a thief that no one had seen.

It was perfect.

“You,” a voice growled, and Mouse turned to see Golden glare at him from the street.

“Good morning, Officer,” Mouse said with a smile as he sipped his tea. “Would you like some breakfast?”

Golden kept glaring.

And Mouse just smiled.

Chapter 11

Another breakfast at what was soon becoming Mouse’s favorite inn, and another morning watching the guards scramble through the city. It was now the third time that he had besmirched the guard’s honor, and it was starting to make public news. Posters had began to pop up, with a reward of fifty gold bits offered by the guard themselves just for information on the mysterious thief.

The offer was certainly tempting, but Mouse resisted the urge to give the guards a description. It would be his luck that the guards would realize he was talking about himself.

So for now, Mouse was content to let the guards have nothing.

Well, almost nothing. Officer Golden Shield had her suspicions, yet for some reason, she remained quiet. She had offered nothing about the thief, she gave no description, no name, not even from what tribe Mouse was from. She kept it all for herself, and that was quite fine with him.

It made it especially interesting when she came by in the mornings to glare at him. Sometimes they would share a few words as Mouse ate, other times, she would just scowl and mutter under her breath.

She seemed absent today, though, and that did disappoint the thief to a small extent. He had honestly hoped he would see her again today, watching her fume was becoming quite the hobby, and a rather enjoyable one at that.

Ah well, he had to be off anyway. Sleep called him and he had to be ready for Sap’s next job. That, and he had to keep an eye out for anything that Cut could use to prove that Sap was hiding something.

Unfortunately, that meant he would actually have to spend a night in the den, and with his knives still catching the eye of every other—

“You…”

The voice dripped with unadulterated hatred. It’s chill was that of the northern, winter winds. It’s bite that of venomous snake.

For a second, the single word sent a chill down Mouse’s spine before he turned to see Officer Golden Shield standing behind him, with a glower that could kill a small animal.

Mouse nearly leapt out of his skin at her sudden appearance, and had to take a second to compose himself, much to the officer’s pleasure.

“Uh...hello, officer, what I can I do for you today?” Mouse asked, before he sipped at his morning tea.

“Fall over dead.”

“Of course, Officer,” Mouse replied, “but it may take a while.”

“Shame,” she said, in a perfect deadpan.

“In the meantime, care to join me for breakfast? I had a busy night and I am famished.”

“I’m sure,” she replied, teeth grinding together.

“Is that a ‘no?’” Mouse asked, confidence returning with each passing second.

She offered nothing more, but simply turned and stormed away. Mouse simply smiled, and went back to his tea.

“Alright,” Sap said. “I have a new job for you.”

Mouse nodded, waiting and listening.

“This one’s a little more...complicated than our usual jobs.”

“How so?”

“We’re looking to get our hooves on a pegasus sword, supposedly belonging to one of Hurricane’s Hundred.”

Now Mouse had heard of them. There was hardly a night at the Fox’s Heart without the local bard singing about the one hundred pegasi warriors that first left Pegasopolis when Commander Hurricane was first court martialed for establishing peace with the other two founders. The fact that they had more songs about them than actual members impressed Mouse in all the wrong ways.

Most of them were dead or presumed dead now, having given their lives in key battles against massive beasts or lost in the great woods and swamps around Canterlot. Most of it was a load of manure, although there had been at least one battle against a splinter force of pegasi that had made an actually entertaining story.

“So what’s complicated?” Mouse asked.

“Other than the fact that he’s dead?” Sap asked. “Our hero here, some featherbrain named Warhawk, apparently impressed some earth pony landowner. As a result, Warhawk secured himself a nice mausoleum after the fight for the landowner’s life went south.”

Mouse waited for the hard part.

Almost as if sensing his impatience, Sap continued. “The problem is that we don't know where the tomb is. The only pony that does know is the landowner’s son, and he is your first target. His name is Bay Leaf, and he basically owns every inch of fertile land around Baltimare.”

Mouse nodded. “So he and I are going to have to talk, hmm?”

“And after that, you’re going to have some good, old-fashioned grave robbing,” Sap said. “Now, you can't have the sword, this time. You’re going to have to bring that in for the gang, alright?”

“Yes sir,” Mouse replied.

“And, I hope I don’t need to tell you that this mission requires a great amount of...discretion. Don’t tell anyone.”

“You got it,” Mouse said.

“Oh, yeah, that is definitely a trap,” Cut said.

Mouse had immediately gone to Cut and explained the grave robbing mission, about how he had to locate the tomb and clean it out.

“The mission itself isn’t that bad,” Cut went on. “The problem arises when you bring the landowners. Landowners are insanely rich, while nobles have servants and guards that were pledged to their service, landowners can afford lots of mercenaries. If I were you, I wouldn’t get anywhere near the landowner, because he no doubt has four to five ponies surrounding him, and everyone of them is no doubt armed to the teeth.”

“Wait, he wants me to literally talk to him?” Mouse asked.

“Kind of, he wants you to shake him down, bully the info out of him. That’ll get you killed. No, I have a better idea. One of the things earth ponies do well is family. Some say that earth ponies used to worship their ancestors, and I doubt that anything they handed down was lost. I’m willing to bet you a hundred gold bits that the location of the tomb is written down somewhere family’s Book of Ancestors.”

“Book of Ancestors, got it,” Mouse said, nodding.

“Alright, you ready to go then?” Cut asked.

Mouse nodded. “I believe I am.”

“Great, get out there and make the gang proud,” Cut said, standing to lead Mouse out the door. “By the way, whose corpse are you robbing?”

“A pegasus named Warhawk.”

Cut stopped. “W-Warhawk? You mean one of Hurricane’s Hundred?”

“Yeah,” Mouse said. “He supposedly saved Bay Leaf’s father, and the old man gave him a pretty nice grave.”

Cut stared at him, eyes wide, and mouth shut.

“Cut? What’s wrong.”

The shorter pegasus opened his mouth, closed it again, and swallowed. “M-Mouse, I need to ask a favor.”

“What? What is it?”

“When you find Warhawk’s tomb, get the sword, and get out, don’t take anything, just the sword, alright?”

“But...but I get most of my cut from the extra—”

“I will pay you five hundred gold bits to not take anything but the sword, alright?” Cut said.

Mouse blinked. Five hundred gold? That was...that was no small amount. He could buy a nice boat for that amount, a little pleasure boat that he could stock with some good wine, some good beds.

“I...see…” Mouse said. “Alright...I’ll just take the sword then.”

Cut nodded. “Thank you, Mouse. This is important to me. Very important to me. Just...just let me know where the grave is, okay?”

“Sure...I can do that.”

Mouse slipped into the dark house, as silent as a whisper on the wind. The massive Bay Leaf plantation sold huge amounts of sandy soil crops, and stretched across a decent and well-irrigated section of sand dunes that were just far enough away from the sea that the salt wouldn't kill the plants. Potatoes, raspberries, asparagus, and rye grew in well defined plots that earned the Bay Leaf family a good bit of coin, and this alone was reflected in the number of ponies that guarded the plantation.

Patrols of two ponies, armed and armored unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, and even a handful of griffons wandered across the entire grounds. Their shields were decorated with an array of mercenary and family crests, the spectrum of which almost gave the entire force a ragtag feel.

If Mouse hadn’t been warned, he probably would’ve done something stupid and found himself staring down the blade of a mercenary's sword. Instead, he cut straight to the plantation house.

The window opened easily enough to his spell, and the next thing he knew, he was standing on a very nice pegasus silk rug. It gave only just slightly as he stepped on it, it’s what Mouse imagined walking on clouds felt like.

Bay Leaf’s house was an eclectic collection that would make a museum jealous. Pieces from all over the old world were spread throughout the entire building, and spoke of griffon, zebra, and minotaur cultures. Swords, masks, tapestries, goblets, odds and end, and all sorts of odd, interesting and valuable things lay scattered across the hallway.

And all of it was just begging to be taken to a nice fence somewhere in Baltimare’s sewers.

After a mask, tapestry, and a decorative axe all disappeared into Mouse’s magical bag. He began to head deeper into the house, searching for the Book of Ancestors. According to everything he had learned, it should be kept in the center of the house, in the center of the room, and bound in wood. It shouldn’t be terribly hard to find, all things considering.

He swept past the rooms, keeping his hooves on the incredibly soft rug, which padded each step so that the floor did not even creak beneath him. He slipped past the bedrooms, snuck past the dining room, and with a few more steps, found himself standing in doorway to the family room.

End tables, couches and chairs all were carefully arranged in a large circle, around a podium, on which was situated the wood-bound time, with a leaf crest burned carefully into its face. The brand was set perfectly in the smooth face of the wood, and the edges had been rounded with time.

Mouse quickly slid up to the tome, and with the ginger touch of a veteran thief, opened it. The pages in the book were immaculate, with not a mark on the pages other than the neat script that was written in perfect lines between the perfect, margins.

Another few pages, and the script changed, still written within those perfect boundaries, but letters themselves were sloppier. It was as if someone else, someone used to writing large notes, was forcing himself to follow the lines set by the first.

A new author, and more words that spoke of the Leaf family history. Another change in script, that still refused to break the laws of the page borders. Mouse flipped through, ignoring the contents before he finally came to the last written pages.

Coming back, he began to skim the pages, looking for any hint of Oak Leaf, Bay’s father, and his meeting with Warhawk the pegasus. Crop growth, growing technique, praising the ancestors, no, no, no…

There!

“On the 13th day of october, after the ringing of none, I, Oak Leaf, now in my winter, went for a walk to the East in the forest surrounding my home in this new land of Equestria. I walked slowly, enjoying the cool of the autumn afternoon, when I was beset upon by a beast. It was great and terrible, with fangs as long as a stallion’s arm, and scales as thick as an axe head.

“With a horn that plowed the earth asunder, the monster charged at me, and I thought I would meet my end. I could see Halden’s face approaching quickly, and I had just enough time to make my peace, when a pegasus came to my aid. Armed with a gleaming blade, he fought the beast, striking the monster against its hide as they began their battle. The fought long and hard against each other until at last the pegasus wounded the beast with a deep cut that dug through flesh, bone, and brain.

“The battle slowed to it's end, and I finally gained the courage to speak to the young stallion that had saved my life. He was sporting many wounds, and his strength had been expended. With what little he had left, he told me his name, and before my eyes, he passed in Halden’s care.

“Now that I knew that this young stallion was one of Hurricane’s Hundred, I petitioned to the Commander for the honor of housing this soldier’s grave. Hurricane accepted, and I took the stallion named Warhawk, and buried him in the forest where he saved me.”

To the East, in the forest? Nothing else?

Thanks, old man.

Still, Mouse could work with that. Besides, he didn't need to bring the sword back today. He could take the time to find the tomb now that he had a general idea.

Closing the book, Mouse began to move, when he turned, and found himself staring straight in the face of a young stallion.

He was young, having just entered stallionhood, and wore nothing other than a necklace of pebbles. He stared at Mouse, sleep clinging to his eyes even as the sight of a strange pony in his house began to wake him.

Mouse blinked. “Now kid,” he began, only for the young stallion to move.

“Fire!” He yelled, gripping one of the stones on his necklace, before a ball of fire flew at his head.

Mouse ducked, his body moving faster than his mind as it slowly began to process the fact that an earth pony used magic.

The fireball slapped against the walls of the house, and the young stallion reached for another stone on his necklace. “Blizzard!”

A ball of freezing cold followed the fireball, heading straight for Mouse, before the thief pulled a knife blade free from his bag. The hungry, crescent blade ate the spell in the air, even as it flew toward him. Spinning around, Mouse grabbed the book, and held the blade up to its ancient pages. “Reach for another stone and the book’s going to shreds.”

The young stallion stopped, and, as Mouse had hoped, the spells stopped.

A long pause separated the two and Mouse finally spoke. “That’s quite the talent you have there, kid.”

The stallion sneered. “Magic doesn’t belong to the unicorns alone.”

“Well that’s news to us,” Mouse said, threatening the Book of Ancestors, as he slowly backed up. “Now look, it’s obvious to me we got off on the wrong hoof, so let’s try again. I’m the guy the guard’s been scrambling to find for the past few days, who are you?”

The young buck scowled. “I’m Maple.”

“Maple, huh? Well look, I tell you what, with the things I have in my bag, I’m probably going to make about fifty gold pieces. You’re going to make that all back with just a name for the guards to chase, so how about we all calm down, I’ll give you a name, and no harm no foul?”

Maple grimaced. “I’m going to burn you to ashes.”

“I’m alright with that, as long as it’s not tonight,” Mouse said.

The young stallion’s frown deepened.

“Look, kid,” Mouse began. “I don’t want anypony to die tonight. This little thing ate your spell already, and it can do it again. Even with whatever magic you have, this is going to be an ugly fight, and who knows which one of us is going to make it out alive. Do you want to risk that for fifty gold bits?”

Maple went silent, staring at the thief who simply smiled as he slowly put distance between his blade and the book. “It’s not worth it, right? I’m just here for a little info, you’re not my target. This isn’t a fight that either of us need, right?”

Maple shook his head. “Fine…” he sighed.

“That’s a smart boy. No wonder you can use magic,” Mouse said.

The faintest smile graced Maple’s face, but that was shattered the second that the Book of Ancestors went flying across the room. He leapt, grabbing the wood-bound tome, and he landed hard on the floor.

“The name’s Mouse,” the thief told him, before he ran for his exit.

He leapt out the window and ran into the darkness, leaving only a name behind.

The forest was deep, and dark. It was not a wild as the Darkwood that dominated the middle of Equestria, but it was not to be taken lightly. Heading directly east from the plantation, Mouse began his search for the mausoleum of the pegasus soldier, hoping that just maybe he’d finish in time to watch the guards scramble once they had a name.

That alone would be worth his name getting out.

The trees were thick, and not a single ray of moonlight could pierce the darkness. Shadows ran long a deep against his path, and the forest’s maw opened wide to swallow Mouse whole.

The thief offered a small, meaningless prayer to Peme, the Alicorn of the forests, before he began to move deeper into the darkness of the forests, as though the prayer to the goddess that may or may not exist would charm him against the dangers that were hidden in the woods. The long, dark, twisted trunks reached into the inky black canopy and surrounded Mouse on all sides, leaving nothing for the eye to see.

Walking through the trees, Mouse could hardly move without the crunch of leaves or the snap of twigs sounding at his every hooffall. It sabotaged his every move, but he pushed on nonetheless, searching for the tomb of the supposed hero.

And then suddenly he was in a clearing.

Mouse blinked at the sudden light of the moon shining in his face, but now he could finally see what was going on. The grass here was black, and brittle to his touch, and a handful of dead trees, with their branches stripped of leaves, and the flowers were withered to sticks.

Mouse blinked as he beheld the dead clearing, but he saw no source, no cause to this wanton death.

It took a moment, and he still wasn’t sure what it was, but he found something. A stone was set in the middle of the clearing, and a ring of faintly glowing blue runes.

More magic.

Surrounded by death.

A shiver ran down his spine, before he continued on, doing his best to put distance between him and the dead clearing.

And then, as he was just about to enter the darkness of the trees once more, he found it.

Four young trees, alive and growing, were bound together by rope, wooden beam, and iron. These formed walls, immovable against the tree trunk, that created shelter for a sarcophagus that was just visible through the arched doorway of the tomb.

The arch itself was made from a pair of young trees, that had been carefully bent to create a perfect arch. Crowning the arch was a skull. Not the skull of any pony or livestock, but the massive, horned skull of a monster.

Mouse gave a low whistle.

Honestly the whole thing was kind of impressive, a living building surrounding the tomb. Of course, if it was this easy, then what kept everyone out?

He walked around the building, checking the walls for anything that could be a trap, but saw nothing but the simple, rough walls that had been set around the trees. He worked his way, all the way around, before he finally came back to the doorway, and then finally, he saw it.

A line of runes had been carved into the threshold. Each one matched the ring of runes he found back in the clearing, and each one was just barely growing, and Mouse quickly realized the magic that left there.

So that was it, hm?

Making his way back to the clearing, he quickly found the stone in the center, and picked it up.

It was, oddly, terribly light.

Taking it back to another stone, he began to slam them into each other until the runes began to crumble and deform.

In retrospect, Mouse would admit this was a dangerous thing to do, and there was a very good chance that he would not be here today if it had been unicorn magic, but Mouse hardly cared. With the rock split and the the runes on the threshold dying, the tomb was open, and the sword was his for the taking.

Chapter 12

The sword hit Sap’s desk with a clang, echoing against the walls of the cistern-turned-office that the large earth pony had taken for his own. “One sword of a local hero,” Mouse said, leaving the short sword before leader of the Baltimare gang.

Sap blinked, the fog of his latest high clearing as he tried to focus on the newest acquisition. “You got it?” He asked, sounding more surprised than he probably wanted.

“I did,” Mouse confirmed. “How much do I get?”

“Um…” Sap said, still navigating through a haze. “I...I can’t pay you yet…”

Mouse sighed. “Fine, whatever, I’m going out.”

“Hey, wait! You can’t just leave all the time!”

“Can you pay me?” Mouse asked.

Sap blinked. “Uh...no I—”

“Then you owe me, so I can do what I want until you get me my bits,” Mouse grunted, before he left without giving Sap a chance to argue any further.

As Mouse left the tunnels that hid the Baltimare gang, he soon found himself staring at Dusk. “Hey, there...Mousy,” he greeted, smiling wide.

Mouse rolled his eyes, but quickly secured his pockets, not trusting the pegasus pickpocket to keep his hooves to himself. “Hello, Dusk. What are you doing here?”

“Just came to say hello is all,” the pegasus said through a smile.

Right, and the sky is quite obviously green, isn’t?

“Well, hi,” Mouse said, keeping his bag close. “Do you need anything in particular?”

“Oh, no, no,” Dusk said, continuing to block the way out. “It’s just, you know...you’re the new guy, Shade and I are Sap’s top dogs, so it’s supposed to be our job to get you familiar with everypony here, but, well, let’s be honest, we all got off on the wrong hoof, so let’s try again, alright?”

Mouse didn’t believe that one either.

“So where’s Shade?”

“He…” Dusk began, before his eyes shot over to behind Mouse’s shoulder. “He’s back in the canteen, setting up a party for you.”

And sugar rained from the sky.

He felt a hoof against his flank, and Mouse kicked back, striking on instinct. His hoof slammed into Shade’s face, and the earth pony staggered under the blow. Mouse lurched forward, not leaving the pegasus ahead of him a chance to move, and bowled him over.

With the earth pony stunned and the pegasus sprawled across the floor, Mouse wasted no more time.

He ran, down the tunnels, and up the stairs, bursting into the Highwayman’s Alehouse. Pale Ale watched him go, an eyebrow raised, but otherwise let him pass without so much as a word.

Now that he was in the streets and free of the other thieves, Mouse continued on to the Fox’s Heart, where he had a date with breakfast and watching the guards run about like mad. After all, it was the only thing to really look forward to today.

This last really didn’t sit well with him. He could ignore the other jobs, most of those were really about annoying the guards for him but robbing the grave a pony who just wanted to help left a bad taste in his mouth.

“So now it matters?” a voice in his head asked. “You didn't seem to mind when you could plaster your name all over it. Or were you going to ignore the fact that you robbed an innocent pony blind in your little crusade against the guards you hate so much?”

Yes, honestly. The less he thought about those ponies the better.

Yes, they...probably…didn't deserve to be robbed, but it wasn’t like he wanted to steal for a living. It was all he could do, really.

“Yes, yes. Your problems are always more important than everyone else’s, right? Whether in the prisons or out in the ‘civilized’ world, your problems always took priority.”

Mouse moved on, trying to avoid the thought and moving on towards his favorite inn. Hopefully the sight of the guards running about would get his mind off things.

The guards helped far, far less than he expected. They were more gathered now, standing tall and proud on every street corner, but keeping their eyes peeled for any movement.

Honestly, the show was kind of dull, but not five minutes in, their saving grace appeared: Golden Shield. The second she came around the corner, Mouse felt his mood lift, and his smile widened as he sipped his tea.

She stomped forward, growling as she approached.

This was what he was waiting for.

“Hello Officer, can I help you?”

She glared at him, as though her gaze would stick him between the eyes and drop the unicorn dead. “So, Mouse is it?” She asked, venom dripping from every word.

“Mouse?” The thief asked as he sipped his tea. “Why what a strange name. It sounds like the name of a very talented thief, but that couldn't be me, Officer. I simply don't have the constitution to be a thief.”

Golden Shield’s eyes narrowed, almost to the point where Mouse was sure that if they narrowed any further, she wouldn't be able to see. “I hate you, so much…”

“Well I’m terribly sorry for whatever it is I’ve done to earn such a reputation,” Mouse said, before he raised his tea cup once again. “Perhaps we can talk it over?” he said, motioning to the chair on the other side of the table.

She glared at him, seething through her nostrils before she spoke. “You know what? I will!” She turned and sat in the chair opposite him, glaring at him the entire time.

Mouse blinked.

That was...not what he expected. What was this? Some kind of power play? An attempt to throw him off? That had to be it.

Mouse lowered his teacup and motioned for the waiter.

“Yes sir?” the waiter asked as he approached.

“Tea for my friend here, if you please,” Mouse ordered.

“Of course, sir,” he answered, before backing away, leaving the two ponies to stare at each other.

“Rather generous of you,” Golden Shield noted. “I have to wonder if you are simply making up for some past deed, or if you never learned the value of a hard-earned bit.”

“And what are you implying by that, Officer?” Mouse asked. “Because I assure you, I worked hard for these bits, perhaps not as hard as you work trying to catch this criminal that’s been plaguing your city, but then, it’s hard to compete with a master.”

“Master?” she asked with a smile. “You do him far too much credit. He’s hardly more than a nuisance, a piece of street scum that’s hardly worth the effort. For now, he’s lucky, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping him on the streets.”

“Well, luck can only take one so far,” Mouse argued. “Some of it has to be skill, surely. But let's forget that for a moment, after all, I’m sure the last thing you want to talk about is the thief that has been giving you the run around for so long.”

“Yes, yes, after all, I’m here to talk about you,” Golden Shield growled.

“I’m flattered.”

“Don't be,” she said flatly. “You, sir, are a pathetic little gelding of a stallion, and if I could prove that you are responsible, I’d have you hung.”

“Hung?” Mouse repeated. “My, that seems a bit excessive.”

“Excessive?” she repeated. “You tried to steal a family’s Tome of Ancestors, a book which, by its very nature has no intrinsic value to anyone but that family. So I can only assume that you were going to hold the book ransom, forcing them to bend over backwards for your sick pleasure, and you call that excessive?”

Mouse stared at her, staying silent as the waiter approached with another cup of morning tea. He smiled as Mouse nodded his thanks.

“You know, despite being fairly knowledgeable about the goings on of this thief's job, it surprises me how wrong you are.” Mouse said.

“Oh, really? Then what, exactly were you planning to do with a book that can’t be sold?”

“Oh there would be someone who would buy, you know there has to be,” Mouse said. “But I’m sure the thief didn't want the book, anyway.”

Golden looked the thief over. “You didn't want it?” She repeated, incredulously.

“Let’s say, and this simply hypothetical, but let’s say that this thief’s employer wanted something that the family alone knew the location of. I mean, if that were the case, then the thief would have no choice but to read this tome you speak of to find what his employer wants.”

“Employer?” Golden asked, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

Mouse smiled. “Oh, dear. You didn't know, did you?” he asked, grinning all the way. “Yes, I hate to break it to you, Officer, but the thief you’re looking for is just a cog in a much larger machine.”

Golden blinked, before she turned away. “You have an employer…” she muttered. “This is…”

“Out of your hooves, sadly,” Mouse said. “I’ve heard that he’s someone from the Old World, he’s out to break Equestria and he has enough ponies working on it to do a decent job.”

Golden’s eyes turned back to him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Mouse smirked. “A couple reasons. The first is that, despite the fact that Equestria hates me, I kinda like it here. I don't want to see it go down, and, well, my coworkers and I are having a bit of a spat. This, along with the fact that the rest of the gang think that something is wrong with the branch, means that we might have need of your services, and if handing over a bunch of ponies that hate me gets you off my back, all the better.”

Golden frowned. “I am not making a deal with you.”

Mouse shrugged. “Fine, after all, the second reason I’m telling you is so that you know that you’ve wasted all this time and effort on someone who doesn't really matter. I’m a nobody, and while you may think that this is some terribly petty vengeance, it makes my day, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Golden glanced at him, very unamused. “I need to go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Not going to enjoy your tea?” he asked.

She grabbed the teacup and filled her mouth with a large gulp of the still-hot tea. She swallowed, the hot tea passing her through her throat without a worry about the burning flesh that now roared down her neck.

Mouse sipped his own tea, watching as Golden walked away.

“Good riddance.” Mouse thought to himself, before he went back to his tea. Hopefully she would spend the rest of her days running around uselessly, chasing her own tail as she tried to bring this “new threat” to justice.

And that’s when another pony approached his table. “Mouse, we need to talk.”

“Cut?” the unicorn said, surprised to hear the Canterlot thief head out in the open.

“We need to go,” Cut repeated, giving mouse a push out of the chair. “Sooner rather than later.”

“Why, what’s going on?” Mouse asked, concerned.

“The Lord Prig is fobbing the mob. He’s saying you’re shoulder tapping and hauling supplies out of the ken, biting the pie behind their backs. It’s only a matter of time before the Lord tells the Prince, and they’ll cry beef for ya. You’ll be a leaf if you don’t crawl in a hole.”

It took a second for Mouse to mentally translate, but it got worse with every word. Sap was telling the gang that he had betrayed them, that Mouse had been stealing the thieves’ supplies while they weren’t looking and beating up the others. Sap was going to tell the Head Thief, and Mouse would be exiled, and turned over to the guards. He had to hide, or he’d hang.

“But I didn’t eat anything!” Mouse said. “I never had a piece of the pie. I may have played a bit rough with one or two, but I kept my hooves off the pie.”

Cut nodded. “I might have something to do with that,” he said, before opening his cloak to reveal the sword that Mouse had delivered just this morning.

Mouse blinked, shocked. “I...b-but why?” he asked.

“There are some jobs that just aren’t worth taking,” he said. “There was chance this was going to happen anyway, but I thought for sure Sap didn’t have a reason to point you out as the glutton. I thought he wouldn’t have the hoofprints to fob the mob, but next thing I know there’s a quarrome, a beaten eye who says you crashed a bob, and the lord saying that you’re the one that took the pie.”

“Someone’s dead?” Mouse asked, his voice whispered and shocked.

“Smooth, smooth, Mouse,” Cut said, reminding Mouse to be quiet, before leading Mouse away into a nearby alley. “Yeah, one of the Gentlemen have crashed. The eye says you did it, is that true?”

“No!” Mouse whispered back. “I played rough with Shade and Dusk, but I didn’t crash anyone.”

Cut stared at him for a long time, staring into Mouse’s eyes as the moment stretched on and on. “Alright, I believe ya, I’ll do what I can to let the Prince know it’s not your style, but your work in Baltimare’s over for now. I’d invite you back in, but I can’t without your name being clear, So you’re going to have to be a lone wolf for a bit.”

Independent thievery? He barely wanted this job when he had a whole system of thieves, fences, and the safety net already set up. There was no way he could set that up on his own. The next time he went out to make a living, he’d be back in jail.

And you can only break out of a jail like Baltimare’s once. The next time he’d be moved somewhere worse, somewhere more secure, somewhere like the Canterlot prison. Then it’d be over, he’d be locked away, forgotten to rot in a cell that would not let him go.

“It’s a shame, Mouse. You would’ve done us some good. Now, before I go, I have a favor to ask.”

Mouse nodded, trying to keep the thoughts of his future at bay.

“Take me to the grave.”

Mouse led Cut deep into the forest, heading quickly to the tomb of Warhawk. Mouse quickly pointed out the strange, living-wood mausoleum, and Cut approached the tomb with a reverence that Mouse had never seen the thief possess before.

The pegasus passed inside, keeping his head low as he came near to the stone sarcophagus. A moment passed with Cut standing next to the tomb solemnly, before he laid the sword back in its resting place.

He muttered something that Mouse did not catch, before he left, meeting Mouse back in the dead clearing that he had discovered merely hours before. “Thank you, Mouse, this was...incredibly important to me,” his voice was calm, and quiet, and the simple, ever-present smile that Cut wore had slowly faded as soon as he came here. Mouse had never seen him so serious before.

“It’s...it’s not a problem…”

Cut gave him a smirk. “Well, let’s not go that far,” he said before his smirk faded. “I’m sorry this happened, Mouse. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

Mouse sighed. “Well, serves me right for thinking I could make a living, right?” he laughed.

Cut offered him the most sympathetic look Mouse had ever seen since Ole’ Punch saw him back at the Howling Dragon. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

Mouse said nothing, as dread began to fill his heart.

“What will you do now?” Cut asked.

“I...I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I can find a job pulling wagons or helping out at an inn. Who knows, maybe I’ll actually find a job out there, now that I’m not in Canterlot anymore.”

Cut nodded, before he pulled a bag from his side. “Here, this is for the job you were doing for me, it should help you until you can get on your hooves.”

Mouse caught the bag as Cut tossed it his way. “Thanks,” he said, “at least I’ll have the chance to be an honest pony like I always wanted.”

“Actually, Mouse, if you want, I have one more job for you,” Cut said.

“I’m not going to risk being thrown in jail without someone to bail me out,” he said.

“No, Mouse, trust me, with what I have for you, there’s no way you can go to jail.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Sap’s thrown you out of the gang, so the least you can do return the favor.”

It was midday, but Mouse could hardly tell for the darkness that surrounded him as he stepped deeper into the gang’s hideout.

He had to go the long way around, entering from the sewer grates and heading deeper toward the hideout as he waded through rainwater, seawater, and sewage.

His mission was simple: sneak in, find Sap’s personal ledger, and steal it. There had to be a paper trail, Cut insisted. Whatever he’s taking from the gang is too well hidden to be random. He was positive that Sap had a ledger somewhere to keep track of his work, and it was Mouse’s job to find it.

It was simple enough for a final job, Mouse figured, but the reasons behind it were what really got his blood pumping. He was working against the underworld, against the darkness, it was almost like he was working with the law.

There was a strange, and not unwelcome thrill in knowing that this was the closest he had ever come to working an honest job.

Sliding through the tunnels, he made his way closer and closer to the hideout, knives drawn, and shimmering like twin moons in the darkness. He moved swiftly and silently, with only the stench that clung to him as a sign of his passing.

It was almost time. He’d be there soon. Sap would not have the last laugh here. Mouse would not let him go.

There it was, the wall that the thieves erected to keep the sewer out of the hideout. Mouse quickly pushed himself up against the wall, and began searching for the wall that was nearly invisible from this side. Of all the things that Mouse remembered, he was glad that the secret entrances were safe in his mind, rather than, say the names of his fellow thieves.

The coolness of the other thieves would come against them, today. None of them had welcomed Mouse, none of them had really spoken to him. Instead, they had kept Mouse at arm’s length, and today, Mouse would use that to his advantage.

He would not deny that he was angry against the other thieves, but he was surprised by the frustration he felt. He could have sworn he hadn't cared a day ago…

He pushed the thought aside, he had more important things to think about.

His hoof clicked against the hidden switch, and the door in the wall opened up, and Mouse slipped inside.

He had to focus now, move silently. The thieves should be asleep now, resting for the night of crime ahead of them, but he couldn't count on that.

Casting his invisibility spell, he moved forward, into the hideout.

Hugging the walls, he did his best to plan his movements. He’d have to carefully make his way through the mess hall, and around the storage rooms, before he’d finally come to Sap’s office and quarters.

This was arguably the clearest, if longest path through the hideout, with the hardest part to move through the storage room. Sap made sure that the storage room was always under guard, even during the brightest hours of the day, when most of the thieves were sleeping.

Getting past those guards would not be easy, but if he took it slow, he could get past.

The other option was far shorter. He could take a right just ahead, and cut through the bunkhouse that the hideout was built around. He’d have to slip past twenty sleeping thieves, weave through the beds, and come out on the other side without waking a single pony. The second a single pony woke up, the entire gang would be on top of him. He’d have to face dozens of blades, hooves, and very angry ponies.

He came to the fork, a right would take him into the room full of sleeping ponies, while moving straight ahead would take him through the actively guarded storage room.

One shorter, one longer. One safer, one more dangerous. Both with risk that would bring the entire gang down on his head.

He looked right.

He looked ahead.

Well, he was no coward, and if it meant he could drop his spell for a bit, all the better. “Save your strength,” as the old stallion used to tell him, “fight another day.”

He slipped down to the right, taking a short corridor down to the bunkhouse, and was soon surrounded by sleeping ponies. His hooves glided against the flagstone floor, not even making a sound as he passed by.

The snoring thieves offered nothing as he passed, not a stir, not a yawn, not a flutter of an eyelid.

They were whisked away to the dream realm, and perhaps Luna smiled on him still.

Past a sleeping thief.

Past another.

No one had moved and he was already halfway through the room.

He smirked to himself. “This is too easy,” he thought to himself as he slipped past the sleeping thieves.

And then he heard a voice and a set of hoofsteps echoing off the walls ahead of him.

“I can’t believe he killed him,” the voice said, getting closer as the hoofsteps heralded the pony in the hallway ahead.

Mouse, out in the open and easy to find, felt his heart leap up into his chest, before he quickly looked for a place to hide.

“I can’t believe he killed Dusk!” Shade said as he burst into the room. “That little worm killed him!”

A handful of thieves jolted awake, before they noticed the ranting right-hoof stallion, and did their best to sleep though the ranting.

“You don’t mess with Shade and Dusk and get away with it!” Shade cried as he stormed across the bunkhouse. “I’ll murder him! I’ll rip him to shreds!”

Mouse stayed silent, laying in a nearby cot with his back to the ranting earth pony.

“He’s a coward! Stabbing a pony as he lay sleeping on the floor!”

Stab? Mouse didn’t stab anyone. He gave Shade a good kick to the face, but he didn’t stab anypony, especially not Dusk. Still, he said nothing, letting the insult go unanswered so that he had the chance to make his move.

Shade continued to rant, moving further and further down the bunkhouse. Mouse simply waited, trying to keep breathing as calmly as possible while Shade continued his rant before finally, finally he could move.

He stood up, rolling out of the cot and scurrying out of the bunkhouse, and down towards Sap’s office. He quickly slipped into the hallway, past the door, and into the office. It was dark, dank, and smelled faintly of blackglass. Now, to find the ledger and get out of here.

He started with the desk, going through the drawers like a madman, ripping through pages as he tried to find the presumed ledger. He flew through the drawers, skimming each page.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

He turned away from the desk, annoyed that the desk offered nothing. “Come on, where would Sap hide his secret paperwork?” he thought to himself.

The sound of hoofsteps in the hallway gave him pause, and his eyes locked onto the door handle. His horn began to ring as he prepared to cast his invisibility spell.

He waited, with baited breath, hoping that the ponies beyond the door passed him by.

A long moment passed.

Then another.

Before finally, the hoofsteps passed him by.

He released a breath he did not know he was holding, before he swept through the room once more. Bookshelves were filled with garbage, strongboxes with coins, the walls behind the paintings had no secret, yet oddly predictable safes.

Nothing.

Mouse quietly fumed in frustration, eyes dancing across the room as he tried to find any sign of the damning papers.

And then his eyes fell on the door to Sap’s personal quarters.

Mouse really, really, didn’t want to go in there. Sap was a big pony, and with such tight spaces, it would mean that he’d be splattered against a wall the second that Sap got a good hit in. If it were out in the open, Mouse might have a chance, but with so little room to duck and weave around the blows, his own talent for speed would mean nothing.

Then again, Mouse did have a lovely pair of enchanted daggers.

He sighed, before he carefully pushed into the gang leader’s room. The leather hinges creaked slightly as the door swung open. As his view of the room expanded the further the door swung open, the massive, softly breathing form of Sap came into view.

He was laying on his side, facing the door from his large, goose feather bed, and if it weren’t for his closed eyes, Mouse would have bolted out of the room. Instead, the thief held his breath, staring down at the sleeping form of Sap, before he noticed the smell.

The almost coppery scent of blackglass was strong in here, stronger than it had been in the office, and Mouse raised an eyebrow. Normally the smell of the drug was unnoticeable, it was soft and a smell this strong could only mean Sap had to be using whole panes a day.

That...couldn’t be right. Yes, Sap used drugs frequently, and Mouse himself had seen the scars to know that he did enjoy Blackglass, but there was no way he was using that much. He was normally lucid, mostly drugging himself in the morning before he went to bed, or during feasts like the day of mourning.

The only...the only way he could be using that much glass was using large shards. Blackglass had an odd property that the larger shards had greater durations, but weaker highs, while grinding the shards into dust offered the shortest, yet most potent high.

Could...could Sap of been high the entire time? Could he have been riding out the weakest highs for the entire day, every day? That was…

He pushed the thought aside.

He had to focus on the ledger.

He slid through the room, shuffling from one end of the room to the other, checking the shelves, the bookcase, the mirror and washbasin.

And then a sound hit his ears.

Mouse’s ears twitched, and he turned around to see Sap twist and turn. His sleep, now obviously and suddenly troubled, barely held him in the realm of unconsciousness.

Mouse quickly prepared his spell, throwing himself into invisibility, in case the leader of the gang roused from his sleep. By luck, he was just covered in the cloak of his magic, before Sap sat up, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

Mouse slowly backed up against the wall as Sap stood, groaning as he got to his hooves and stumbled towards his washbasin. He knelt down, reaching for the flagstones, before falling to his knees and landing hard.

He groaned, before his hoof dug underneath one of the flagstones and pulled it up, revealing a hole beneath it, and a metal chest set neatly into the recess. Unlocking it with a key from a pouch around his neck, he clawed it open, and inadvertently gave Mouse a clear view of the contents. Several pane of Blackglass, a hoofful of shards, and a small, leather bound book.

Sap grabbed a large shard, and drew it across his fetlock, creating another future scar to join the latticework that sat there. It took a minute or two, but finally, Sap’s breathing slowed, and he dragged himself up to the washbasin and mirror.

He splashed the cold water in his face, before he leveled a cold glare into the silvered glass in front of him. “You are scum, you know that?” He asked.

Mouse nearly jumped, sure that Sap was talking to him, before Sap continued.

“You said you’d quit. You said it wouldn't affect your work, but here we are, still unable to sleep, and a damn-good thief kicked out because you're too paranoid to let one of Cut’s best get too close,” he grunted, before dragging a hoof across his face.

Mouse stayed quiet, listening as the leader of the Baltimare gang verbally abused himself in the mirror. “Let me guess, going to quit again, for real this time?” he asked before he sighed, and sobbed.

“I can't keep doing this,” Sap muttered. “I can't keep bribing them. Can’t keep them all looking the other way. One of them’s going to crack. Can’t keep doing this...”

He muttered the mantra over and over, replacing the loose flagstone automatically, before returning to his bed, tired and sobbing.

Mouse waited, focused on keeping his spell up as Sap fell back to sleep, and only when he heard the soft breathing of a sleeping pony did he move. He rushed for the flagstone, and the hidden chest beneath it. The wet earth and the metal chest were cold to the touch, and Mouse quickly clicked it open with a lockpick spell.

The chest opened softly, and Mouse quickly grabbed the book, and began to skim it’s contents. Bribes of blackglass to members, killing the ones who didn’t comply, fraudulent numbers, empty crates and missing shipments all lay before him, written in a meticulous, careful hoof. It was never enough to warrant attention, but just enough to supply every one of Sap’s needs.

It was all Mouse needed.

He shut the book and shoved it into his bag, before he closed the chest, re-locked it, and set it back into the mud.

“Now for the hard part,” Mouse thought, as he looked over to Sap sleeping form. He reached back into his bag for the little gift Cut had gotten for him, and snuck forward towards the sleeping earth pony.

Using every ounce of his skill, he reached for the small bag that hung around Sap’s neck. He carefully, cautiously opened it, sliding the token inside.

And then his hoof brushed against Sap’s fur.

The gang leader’s eyes snapped open.

He turned, staring Mouse in the face.

For a single second, Mouse stared back.

Then he bolted, crashing through the door into the office, even as Sap leapt out of his bed, screaming.

Out of the office, up the stairs, Mouse ran for the entrance to the Highwayman’s Alehouse.

Sap chased him, running up behind the thief screaming. “I’m going to kill you!” he roared, and Mouse knew he certainly meant it.

The smaller thief burst into the alehouse, and charged through the tables, sending them rocking before Pale Ale called after him. “Hey, enough of the running!”

Sap followed a second later, throwing the tables out of his way as he followed after Mouse, roaring a wordless, furious scream.

Mouse careened out into the street, hooves digging into dirt road outside as he took a hard right. His eyes were searching the side streets for the sign he was hoping for.

Sap tore into the dirt, vision red as he chased after the pony. He had to kill the spy now. He had tried to steal the key for his chest, tried to expose him to the Head Thief, he had to die.

Mouse took a corner, taking it hard, and rushing towards the docks with Sap following close behind. His eyes checked every side street, searching for the signal that she was holding up her side of the deal.

There.

He ran down the street, keeping his eyes forward, before the sound of crashing metal rang behind him.

He slowed to a stop, turning around to face Sap, who. Was buried beneath four, heavily armored guards. They pinned Sap's legs, holding him to the dust as he growled and grunted, trying to get closer to the thief who sold him out.

“Search him,” another guard ordered, even as Golden Shield walked up next to Mouse as he stared down at the gang leader.

“So this is the leader?” She asked.

Mouse smiled. “No, my dear, Officer Shield. This is the pony that's been taunting the guard all this time.”

One of the guards reached into Sap’s pouch, before he pulled a silver amulet from the bag. “It's Lady Ruby’s signet amulet.”

“What?” Sap asked, pulling his gaze from Mouse for the first time. “No, that can’t be! I’ve been set up!”

“Sure you are,” one of the guards said, “and the message scrawled into the Lady’s wall just showed up this morning, right?”

“You idiots!” Sap yelled. “This is a set up! You have the wrong pony!”

Mouse smiled as he turned back to the Officer. “So, as we agreed, you catch a much bigger fish than me, you get the credit for taking down the infamous taunting thief, I make sure he stays in jail, and you get a mess out of my name, and I get off clean. Everypony wins, am I right?”

She gave him an uncertain glare.

“Oh, cheer up, Officer. This’ll probably get you promoted.”

Golden Shield stared at him, silently.

Mouse shrugged. “Ah well, I must be off. Don't want you turning the deal sour on me,” he said, before he began to leave.

“Why did you do it?” she asked as Mouse took his first step away.

Mouse looked back at the officer, eyebrow raised.

She waited for an answer.

“There’s one thing I hate more than guards, Officer. Traitors. And traitors deserve no loyalty.”

Chapter 13

Mouse sighed as he walked away from the guards, listening to their cries they made their arrest. Sap would be going away for a long time, certainly long enough for him to quit the Blackglass cold. It would be good for him, in the end. Now all Mouse had to do was get a job.

He’d have to leave town, maybe head north to Manehattan, or maybe he’d head inland, find a job chopping wood in one of the small settlements out in the wild.

He knew what he was doing this time, he could get a job. It wouldn't be that hard. He had some money to afford a little training, he could afford enough food that he could make it on his own for a bit. He could do this.

But the first thing he needed to do was deliver Sap’s ledger to Cut. Once that was done, he could start his life as an honest pony.

He could have an honest job, make an honest living, and have a nice house somewhere on the frontier. All he had to do was deliver this ledger.

He was already on his way to the Canterlot’s gang leader’s hideout, checking behind him just to be sure he wasn't being followed, eager to let this go and move on with his life. He ran up the small, stone steps, and quickly knocked on the door.

It creaked open, and Cut’s eye peeked out before the door slowly swung open. A quick look left and right revealed nopony following the lone thief, so he quickly ushered Mouse inside. “You have it?”

“Right here,” Mouse replied holding up the black book.

“Let me see it,” Cut said, before grabbing the barely-offered book. He ran through the pages, deciphering the dates, amounts, products, and coins as quickly as possible. “He was stealing Blackglass from us?”

“He was suffering from addiction, and was trying to quit with a few large doses,” Mouse explained. “He woke up in a cold sweat while I was working in his room.”

“That doesn't explain all of it,” Cut said. “This is enough glass to supply the entire gang. Something else has to be going on.”

A memory popped up in the back of Mouse’s mind. The image of Sap staring him down threatening him to take the shard back when he first arrived. “W-what’s the penalty for stealing from the gang?” Mouse asked.

“Expulsion, followed by extracting a pound of flesh per twenty Golden bit value, I believe,” Cut rattled off from the top of his head. “Why?”

“He may have been buying silence,” Mouse said.

Cut turned. “What do you mean?”

“He tried to get me to take a shard back when I joined. I think he was trying to make me an accomplice so I’d implicate myself if I were to let you know.”

Cut blinked.

“That would also explain why everypony there hated me, when I didn’t take it,” Mouse added.

“How did you figure that?” Cut asked.

“I’ve spent a long time in prison, I’ve heard of every jail-able offense Equestria has.”

Cut blinked. “Fair enough, I suppose, but you do have a point, if he was supplying the gang to keep them quiet, then that would match these numbers.” He checked the book once more, before he finally sighed. “You did good, Mouse. Very good. It's a shame that you have to go, you’d have made an amazing agent.”

“Thanks,” Mouse said, “but as I said the first time, the risk of getting tossed in jail was never a big pull for me.”

“If you say so,” Cut said. “Have you decided where you’re going?”

“Vanhoover, if I had to pick,” Mouse answered. I could probably find a job as a farmhand out there somewhere, but I’m hoping for something a little less back-breaking.”

Cut smiled. “Only a month with us, and you’re already picky. What happened to the stallion willing to do anything for some coin?”

Mouse smiled. “Yeah, I know. For someone who is actually trying to become an honest pony, I don’t really have the luxury.”

Cut gave him a gentle punch to the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Mouse. You’re too good to not do well, trust me,” he said, before reaching into a chest and pulling out a sack of coins. “Here, this should get you Vanhoover with some bits to spare. There’s your last payment from the gang. Get out there, go make a name for yourself, and may your luck lead you to fortune.”

Mouse took the sack and smiled. “You got it, Cut, and good luck.”

“My luck’s always with me,” the pegasus answered with a smile.

By the next day, Mouse was had left, deciding to save a little bit of money by walking, at least to Canterlot. Once there, he’d catch a wagon up to Vanhoover, with another 30 gold bits to his name. That’d give him some more time in an inn, and hopefully more time until he could get a proper job.

Here it was, a new beginning, a new chance to start an honest life. These were the last steps of his old life, the life of a stallion born in prisons, and raised by thieves. This was his chance to finally take his life by the reins. He’d finally be in control. He was going to be an honest pony, and there was no power in this world that was going to—

“Yaaaa!”

Mouse spun, and slammed into the ground as another pony ran into him. Mouse went tumbling, rolling across the ground before his attacker landed another blow. A hoof slammed into his face, and he felt his teeth rattle in his skull. A third blow rammed into his gut like a battering ram, and the breath was knocked from his lungs.

Finally, Mouse kicked, his back legs catching the attacker in the gut, and sent him flying. Mouse rolled, reaching his magic into his bag and pulling the Twin Moons free. He finally raised his head to stare the pony down, and was surprised to see Shade, the earth pony, right-hoof-stallion of Sap’s gang.

“You…” Shade growled, before pulling a long-handled dagger from his belt.

“I didn’t kill Dusk, Shade,” Mouse yelled, the crescent daggers spinning.

“Yes you did, you may not have landed the blow, but you killed him,” the earth pony said, beginning to circle Mouse and his enchanted blades.

“What are you talking about?” Mouse asked, beginning to circle the opposite way, staying on the opposite side of the road from the mad earth pony.

“You broke his back, and when Sap saw him, he had no choice but to put him down.”

“What? Then Sap killed him, you idiot! I didn’t—”

“You broke him! Sap just did what you didn’t have the stomach to do.”

Mouse frowned. “If you think I don’t have the stomach to kill, then you don’t know who I am.”

The dance of death began, and the ponies began to waltz across the road, maintaining their distance from each other as they began to measure each other up.

The earth pony growled around the handle of his knife, eyes filled with water flames of hatred. “We were going straight to the top, you know. We were going there lead the gang to glory.”

“You two? You could pick a dead pony’s pocket without him noticing, and he couldn’t sneak his way past the blind. Between the two of you, you barely had one functioning thief, hardly a glorious leader.”

“We were a team! We had always been a team, and you and Sap took him from me!” Shade yelled, before charging across the way, blade raised.

The stallion charged, and Mouse dove forward, swinging low as he aimed for Shade’s legs, and the earth pony was forced to leap out of the way, lest the razor sharp blades took his hooves from under him.

Shade almost danced out of the way, revealing an unexpected agility that explained his skill at hiding in the shadows.

“So you do blame Sap,” Mouse said, a slight smile on his face at being right.

“And you took him, too!” Shade yelled, before he launched another attack, his lone dagger slicing through the air like a falling star.

The Twin Moons, after spending weeks on end hidden in a bag, were eager to battle, and spun to meet the attacking thief with a vigor matched only by a creature that knows it is fulfilling it's reason for living. The crescent blades clashed against Shade's dagger, and though he had the strength to stop the attacks in their tracks, Mouse's magic could lead the blades into strange angles and deadly maneuvers.

For a long second, it seemed that Shade had bitten off more than he chew. Their furious tango was pushing him back step by step back off the road and into the wilderness. It was obviously in the unicorn’s favor, and both thieves knew it.

Mouse shot his blades forward, low to the ground and eager to end this before a hoof suddenly stomped down on one of his precious knives. The magic grip around the knife tried to pull it free, but Shade kept his hoof in place, and the blade did not move.

Shade's head snapped around, and the blade went swinging into Mouse's free knife. The crescent blade went flying back, like it was reeling from the blow, and Shade pushed forward, taking the moment to push back.

He barreled forward, attacking before Mouse had a chance to recover. His knife swung close to Mouse's neck, and the unicorn was forced back, nearly stumbling over his own hooves as the earth pony made a sudden counter.

His hooves caught on an unseen bump in the road, and Mouse tumbled backwards into a heap. Shade was on him in a second, opening with a blow to Mouse's horn. The shock sent his magic fizzling, and the other knife dropped to the floor. Shade moved in, bringing his knife in close to slit Mouse’s throat wide open.

Mouse’s legs shot out, pushing against Shade’s throat to keep the earth pony’s blade from getting too close to his neck. He locked his knees, and kept pushing back, and though the knife got close, it was never close enough.

But Mouse was not a big pony, and his legs were much shorter than Shade’s. The earth pony’s hooves found Mouse’s neck and began to squeeze.

Mouse tried to breathe, tried to keep the blade in Shade’s mouth away from him, but the thief was pushing down hard, crushing his throat and bringing the blade closer and closer to his throat.

His horn began to ring, tried to reach out for something.

His throat was starting to collapse, and his vision was starting to darken.

His magic reached, and grasped.

And the world went black, he could hardly breathe.

His magic found something. He pulled back with all his strength, scrambling to save himself.

But as his grip on item in his magic tightened, his grip on the world loosened, until finally, consciousness slipped away.

It was darkness. It was all darkness. The void stretched out before him like a sea of nothingness, and Mouse was sure that he had finally died. It was over, his life was over and he had done nothing except help a few thieves and send another to jail.

His honest life had ended before it even started.

Of course it did.

He wanted to be honest, and this is what he got for trying.

He sighed as he floated in the nothingness. Maybe he shouldn’t act like this. It wasn’t like he was destined to fail.

“No, my little pony,” a voice said behind him.

Mouse spun, and there before him stood a mare. She was taller than anypony he had ever seen before, a giant in her own right, and her mane was the deepest reaches of the night sky. Her cyan eyes sparkled as she stared down at him, and he could only gasp as her massive spiraled horn shone with moonlight, while her wings blocked out the darkness of the void.

“You are meant for much more than that,” she said, her voice as soft and serene as the ripples across a moonlit lake.

Mouse stared at her, mouth agape as Luna, goddess of night whispered to him, answering his half-hearted, empty prayers.

“Go, my little pony. You have yet more to do,” she whispered.

And the next thing Mouse knew, he was staring up at a canopy of leaves, with a pressure on his chest.

Looking down, he saw Shade, lying still with one of the crescent blades sticking from his back.

It took a moment, maybe two, before Mouse suddenly came to a strange, and outright surprising conclusion.

He was alive.

He was actually alive.

By some miracle, perhaps even divine intervention, he was still alive. He...he had somehow, with the last seconds of his consciousness, had killed Shade where he stood. He was alive, by Luna’s mercy he was alive!

He shoved the body aside, freeing himself to stand, before taking his knives back. He laughed, adrenaline pulsing through his veins at the very idea that he was alive. He thanked Luna, whose image was still fresh in his mind, and promised he would offer her a gift at her shrines, and would worship her in whatever way she saw fit.

Oh, he was alive.

Gasping for breath, he then turned back to the body.

His enemy was dead, and he had come through alive. He won, and he had the right to treat the bodies however he wanted. He had earned that right, it was prison law. He quickly cleaned them off on Shade’s cloak and hid them back in his bag. Searching the body, he found another thirty gold bits, which he gladly pocketed.

He left the knife and cloak, and shoved the body to the side, more than willing to let it rot where it lay.

With a final gasp, another personal reminder that he was, in fact, breathing, he continued on his way.

A week’s travel by foot, and Mouse was back in Canterlot. The budding capital of the new country of Equestria had grown since he was last here, with new house pushing the city limits further and further away from the castle that was still being built up on the mountain. The new, wooden builds smelled strongly of fresh-cut wood, and smiling ponies were moving in, quickly setting up their new home.

Mouse just hoped that they could find a job.

For the most part, Mouse ignored the shops, the ponies, and the houses, instead focusing on the building that sat back at the very foot of the mountain. Sitting there, right next to the path that led all the way up to castle gates, was the chapel of the gods.

He owed a mare a visit, after all.

He made his way there, doing his best to avoid the guards, he was sure at least one of them would recognize him for his earlier thieving. Beyond the guards, however, nothing slowed his approach to the building of smooth, carved stone.

Alicorn figures were carved into the sides of the chapel, with yet more figures standing watch at every corner, standing as angelic gargoyles over the house of worship.

The heavy oak doors were closed, but a smaller door cut into the larger one welcomed Mouse before he stepped inside. Nine, nearly identical shrines, set equidistant from each other hugged the walls, differentiated only by symbols that marked which god they were associated with.

Mouse only knew a few, the crescent moon for Luna, the blazing sun for her sister. A skull for Halden, the god of death. The others were completely alien to the ex-thief, though. An hourglass, a mountain, waves, a great tree, and clouds, all these Mouse could guess. A god of time, one of mountains, one of seas, forests, and the sky. It was the last one that defied him.

A set of nine criss-crossing lines, all touching each other in a strange, yet obviously meaningful lattice. The symbol, done in silver, glinted in the candlelight, and provided no answer to what it was, regardless of how much time Mouse spent staring at it.

Stepping further inside, Mouse was surprised to see the chapel so empty. Other than a single, stooped earth pony dressed in slightly a frayed, but pressed and clean robe, the entire chapel seemed empty, and would have been completely silent if not for the priest’s low prayer.

The robed pony stopped his muttering only long enough to nod towards Mouse, acknowledging him before returning to his prayer, cleaning the shrine of the silver web as he worked. Mouse nodded back, and stepped inside, noting that the priest was keeping an eye on him as he moved further into the sanctuary.

Mouse moved down the line, before he came to the shrine of Luna, a pedestal with a well set into it’s top and a silver, crescent moon standing proud above the well and supported a wrought iron bar. Mouse bowed his head, offered a few coins at the base of the pedestal, and began his prayer.

He prayed as he had learned, repeating the words of praise the thieves had offered, repeating their requests for stealth and safety.

“Do nightmares trouble you, my son?”

Mouse spun, surprised to see the priest standing directly behind him. He hadn’t made a sound, but had somehow crossed the entire chapel.

“Uh…” Mouse began, trying to formulate a response.

“Oh, don’t worry,” the priest said with a warm smile, “I won’t push you for an answer. It is not my place to make you speak, only to listen when you wish to share.”

Mouse nodded, thankful that the priest wouldn’t push him to an answer. “Th-thank you,” he said, before he offered a hesitant “what do you mean nightmares?”

The priest gave him a strange look, before pointing back at the shrine. “You’re praying to Luna, goddess of night, the mind, and dreams. I just assumed that you needed her protection from nightmares, am I incorrect?”

“Uh...no…” Mouse said. “I just...I don’t know much about the gods, I just picked this shrine because I thought the night one would help more.”

“Ah,” the priest nodded. “Forgive me, it has been a long time since I have spoken with the uninitiated, but you are young, you may have grown up uneducated in the way of the gods. But you believe, and that should be enough for me. Come, my child, let me teach you the ways of the divine.”

Mouse nodded and smiled, while inwardly relieved that the priest had began to answer his question without asking too much in return. Besides, a little knowledge on the god he had promised to worship would do him well.

“The gods each contain three spheres. The Sphere of Sky, the Sphere of Soil, and the Sphere of Soul, one for each race of ponykind, though they hold no favorites themselves. Of the sky gods, there is Celestia, goddess of the sun; her sister Luna, goddess of the moon; and Ventus, god of the storms. Meanwhile Ventus’ brother Bahari, the god of the seas; and his sister Peme, goddess of the forest, rule the the Sphere of Soil along with Gora, god of the mountains and metals.”

As he spoke, he pointed to each shrine. The sun, the moon, the cloud, the wave, the tree, and the mountain.

“Now, Gora,” the priest continued. “Is the brother of Kronus, god of time, and has another brother in Halden, the god of death. But all of them bow to Seyella,” he said, pointing to the strange symbol, “the goddess of fate. These three rule the Sphere of Soul.”

The priest went on to explain that the gods, though tied directly to a single aspect, have become patron gods of various other aspects. Seyella gave ponies their cutie marks, Peme was in charge of the harvest, Luna had control of dreams, Kronus was the patron of magic, and so on. Mouse was paying less and less attention as the priest went on, losing interest as he moved further and further away from the lunar goddess.

He was ready to leave within five minutes, even as the priest continued on and on in his explanation. But he stayed long enough to finish, letting the priest explain as a fire of an enthusiasm that almost made the aged earth pony appear young glinted in his eyes.

In all honesty, though, Mouse only really learned one thing about all the other gods that actually mattered to him.

He finally knew the name of the goddess that hated him.

“Mr. Mouse!” Cinnamon Stick cried as she watched the ex-thief walk through the door of the Keystone Inn.

“Miss Cinnamon Stick, you remember me,” Mouse said with a smile.

“Oh, we always remember our best customers, Mr. Mouse,” she said, before pulling up her ledger. “What can I do for you?”

“Just a room and a meal for the morning,” Mouse said. “I’m only staying one night, and then heading for Vanhoover.”

“Really?” she asked, concerned. “You’re going to travel this close to winter?”

Mouse nodded. “It’s not cold enough to worry about it yet, I certainly didn’t notice on the road here.”

“Did you come from the east?” she asked.

“Yes, why?”

“The east coast is always warmer than the west coast. It’s only going to get colder from here.”

“And that’s why I’m going to hire a carriage to take me.”

Cinnamon shook her head. “Just be careful, maybe buy a thicker cloak before you leave.”

Mouse smiled. “Alright, alright, if you insist. In the meantime, a room, please.”

“Right, of course,” she said with a smile before handing him a key. “Enjoy your stay at the Keystone inn.”

“Always.”

A short trip upstairs to room 11, and Mouse quickly relaxed as he fell into the goose feather mattress.

He sighed and smiled as he sunk into feathers. The bed alone was worth every single gold bit.

He rolled around, taking off his cloak, belt and bag and laying naked in the bed. He didn’t want to admit it, but Winter was getting closer. More than once on his journey here, Mouse had woken up to frost clinging to his cloak, and he had to scramble to bring his campfire to life just so he could nurse feeling back into his hooves.

Maybe he should look into buying a tent. Or perhaps not, once he was in Vanhoover it wouldn’t matter would it? Then again, a job wasn’t guaranteed, and a tent might be a good way to save some coins before winter came into its full.

Then again, if he did get a job, he’d have to get rid of tent, probably by selling it, and that meant that he’d have to sell it to someone who wasn’t a merchant, otherwise he’d only get half as much for it. The problem is that ponies who aren’t merchants typically don’t have the bits.

As he thought, and puzzled about this new problem, his mind quickly began to fade to unconsciousness, the comfort of the mattress pulling him to sleep.

“Well, perhaps I’ll deal with this in the morning.”

But he hadn’t even finished the thought before sleep claimed him.

You've done things the hard way. But without taking risks, taking responsibility for failure... how could you have understood?

Chapter 14

Mouse woke.

He sat up, staring into the darkness around him, eyes wide. He heard something, he knew he had.

His eyes scanned the inn room, eyes already adjusted to the blackness around him. There was the table, the dresser, the foot of the bed, all standing silently in the room that appeared otherwise empty.

The walls offered nothing. The furniture, nothing. The shadows and the silence offered the same.

But he knew. Some preternatural sense had told him that something was here, and that something had woken him from his sleep. He glanced around the room once more, holding his breath as he tried to listen for the telltale sign of a living pony sharing this tiny space.

Still, he found nothing.

There were not many places to hide in this room, even fewer that could not be seen from the bed in the tight quarters of the rented room. Blank wall to blank wall was empty, leaving not even a shadow to duck into.

Of course, Mouse had spent enough time invisible to know that even empty space could hide a pony well enough. Especially if they had magic by their side.

Still, Mouse saw nothing. Not the shimmer of the spell. He even picked up his cloak with his magic and threw it out over his room, like a fisher’s net. He caught nothing, and the cloak’s soft folds revealed no invisible pony.

There was nopony in the room. There couldn’t be.

But something woke him up. He knew something had woken him up.

Mouse pulled his bag closer to himself, keeping it and the Twin Moons within hoof’s reach. It was too late to hide his intention now, so at the very least showing that he was armed might dissuade the attacker.

Or…

Or he could just be getting paranoid, and he was arming himself to intimidate the air.

As if to prove his point, a sound from the street outside rattled through his window, loud enough to wake the once-sleeping mare across the way, who was now demanding silence in a very loud, annoyed yell.

The noise passed, and Mouse began to sink back into his bed, alert, but slowly dropping his guard as he laid back down. His head finally touch the pillow, and his eyes finally closed. He sighed, and tried to fall back to sleep.

“Well, well,” a voice said, as Mouse leapt back up, reaching for his knives. “I have to say you sleep rather soundly for a murderer. I nearly had to yell your name to wake you.”

Mouse glared into the room, knives drawn, and from behind the dresser a figure appeared. A pale earth pony stepped into view, smiling widely as he stared at the ex-thief. A belt was wrapped around the pale pony’s barrel and chest, and something that looked like a book rested at his side.

Mouse looked the pale pony up and down, keeping the knives between him and his intruder. “I’m not a murderer.”

“Aren’t you?” the pale pony asked. “You killed a rival. Or is ‘rival’ too a strong a word? He was hardly your equal. Wouldn’t you agree, Mouse?”

Mouse said nothing.

“Regardless, a pony has died by your hooves.”

“I was defending myself.”

“You took a life, and it was your intent to kill. Defending yourself or not means nothing when a life has been cut short.”

“Not according to law,” Mouse pointed out.

The pale pony smiled. “Law,” he said, as though testing the word on his tongue. “If the law is the compass by which you guide your life, then doesn’t that mean you are an escaped criminal? That you are guilty by the fact that you are sleeping so soundly in this lovely bed? And what of the bits you stole, or these knives? What does the law say about those?”

Mouse looked the pony and up down, trying to avoid answering the question. “What do you want?”

“I want you to join us,” the pale pony said with a smile.

“Us?” Mouse repeated.

“My little family of murderers,” the pale pony explained. “Killers and assassins all.”

“Not interested,” Mouse replied.

“So you think,” the intruder said, “but you’ll change your mind.”

“No,” Mouse said, keeping his blades ready, “I won't. I’m leaving for Vanhoover tomorrow. I am going to get an honest job, and I am going to leave all this behind me.”

“An honest job? Oh, come now, that would be a waste of your talents. You can do so much better than that.”

“I am going to be an honest pony. That's all I want!”

“Really, because it seems to me that you want money for the finer things in life, like this goose-feather bed, for instance.”

“And I’ll get it honestly,” Mouse said.

“If you find a job,” the pale pony said, smiling all the way.

Mouse went silent for a moment. “I-I’ll find a job. There has to be one.”

“Oh, of course, of course. There must be one, just like there had to be a job here, in Canterlot, right?”

Mouse had no answer.

The pale pony shook his head. “You won't find another job, Mouse. It is not in your destiny.”

Mouse frowned. “And what do you know of my destiny?”

The intruder smiled, like he was waiting to be asked, and pulled the book from his pouch. A simple, brown volume with a strange cover. A white silhouette of divine figure, having both wings and horn, stood against an auburn field. Before the figure of the goddess was an inkwell, and a quill, waiting to write a tale unlike any that came before. Otherwise, the book had no other marking. No title graced it's cover or spine, just the alicorn, the quill, and the inkwell.

“This,” the pale pony whispered reverently, “this is the tome of the mother of the gods. In it is written all of reality, past, present, and future. I have seen you come to us, and so I know that you shall.”

Mouse stared at the intruder for a moment, before nodding. “Sure…”

“You don't believe me,” the earth pony stated with a smile, before he opened the book.

“No, no I don't,” Mouse said, trying to judge the pony in front of him. This talk of reading the future was—

“This talk of reading the future was causing him to doubt the intruder’s sanity, if not intentions. Then Mouse's doubt turned to shocked disbelief as the new pony read his thoughts aloud, almost as if narrating Mouse's internal monologue as he himself thought it.”

The pale pony looked up from the book, and smiled. “Shall I continue?”

Mouse merely stared.

“I have read your destiny Mouse. You were meant to go to the thieves, that's why you couldn't get a job. What the thieves call bad luck, I call destiny. If you leave for Vanhoover, you will not find a job. You will go without until you come to us. Such is your Doom.”

Mouse shook his head. “I...Luna…”

“But there is good news, Mouse. We know that ponies rarely turn to murder so easily, so we offer you a very special contract.”

He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to do it. He was going to leave in the morning, and he’s leave this all behind. Sard his damned book. He was not going to do it.

“We offer you the Canterlot warden as your first contract.”

Mouse was silent for a moment. “The...the warden?”

The pale pony smiled, and pulled a small package. “The same that had you imprisoned for most of your life. I will even offer a gift, information, all you need to succeed is right here,” he said motioning to the package as he set it on the table.

“All you need do is take your revenge and wet your blade in blood, then you will have a place at our table, and a place to call home. Your precious wagons are delayed I’m afraid, and will not arrive until the next day, so you have plenty of time to think it over.”

The pale pony smiled once more. “Happy hunting, my little murderer,” he said, and then he disappeared.

Mouse was tired by the morning. The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning. When he finally got up, he had hardly slept at all and was threatening to nod off during breakfast.

“Did you have trouble sleeping, Mr. Mouse?” Cinnamon Stick asked as she brought him a cup of tea.

He nodded slowly, trying to focus on the food in front of him. “Yeah...the...the mare screaming across the street woke me up last night.”

“I am sorry about that, Mr. Mouse,” she began.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Mouse said, “it’s not like you can control your neighbors.”

She smiled. “Well the least I can do is offer you some free tea to try and wake you up.”

Mouse nodded, and smiled. “Thank you very much, Miss Cinnamon.”

“You can just call me Cinnamon,” she said, smiling.

“Then thank you, Cinnamon,” Mouse said, before she walked away and left Mouse to his plate and thoughts.

If there was ever a pony that needed to die it was the Warden. He was a coward, a fool, and a bully, quite frankly. He didn't care if the ponies in his care were guilty of murder, or merely a debtor, they all suffered the same under his rule.

The guilty were all guilty. The guilty deserved what they got.

A blade through his throat was the least that the Warden deserved. The prison itself would become better once he died, Mouse couldn't deny that. He also couldn’t deny that he had thought of ending the Warden for years.

He shook his head.

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted an honest life. He was going to head to Vanhoover, he was going to get a job, and he was going to live like a normal pony. No more sneaking in the shadows. No more hiding. No more running from the guards.

He was going to ignore the crazy, pale pony. He was going to ignore that crazy book, and he was going to leave.

“The old man cursed the warden with his dying breath.”

He wasn’t going to do it. He was going to Vanhoover.

“You can bring justice to the innocent.”

By becoming a murderer! That was not living honestly. That was becoming a crazed maniac in the name of some misplaced sense of vengeance. That was not what he wanted. He was going to be an honest pony and that’s that!

As though to end his argument, he shoved his food into his mouth in frustration. He nearly swallowed his eggs whole as he ate angrily, staring forward as though to dare his internal monologue to speak up again.

Nothing.

Good. Maybe he could eat in peace now.

Mouse drank his tea, trying to breath slowly as he tried to resist seething in fury against this horrible, horrible idea.

“Could you imagine his face?”

He could. The shocked, wide eyes that slowly went dark after shining with recognition. Watching him struggle to breath like the prisoners that had been shanked by the more violent convicts. A strange, poetic justice of him dying the same way that his own corruption had killed others sang from the image and he—

No! He was going to be an honest pony.

Mouse sighed.

He needed to get out of here.

The carts had been delayed.

The cart to Vanhoover had not yet arrived, and they did not know when they would arrive.

Just like the crazed pony and his book had predicted.

This thought, that refused to go away, along with the continued intrusion of the sweet, sweet image of the warden’s dying face turned his mind back to the pale pony’s offer.

“I am not going to become an assassin.”

But think about it. Who hires assassins? People like you who can't work in the law. You’ll be helping people.

“Until they need me to kill Princess Platinum…”

Hey, the pale pony did not wear one of the cloaks with that weird star thing. The ones who want to kill for power probably already have their own killers.

“And how do you know that the pale guy isn't already in someone's pocket?”

We can't. Not without joining them.

“Not going to happen.”

Then why are you still carrying the package he gave us?

Mouse had no answer for that. The envelope filled with the Warden’s schedules, addresses, and even a key to his office sat tucked into his belt. At first, he had stuck it there, telling himself that putting the envelope there made it easier to get rid of, in case one of the guards decided to search him. Yet, the more he carried it, the more he felt it press into his side, and the more it hung in the back of his mind.

“I-I just can't get rid of it, what if it leads back to me?”

Now that's a good excuse…

“It's not an excuse!”

Oh, of course not, and you’re definitely not keeping in case you meet the good Warden either, right?

“L-look, I’m not going to find the warden. It’s not going to happen.”

As the thought finished, a pony walked into view. About half a dozen yards away, crossing the street right in front of him, was an old, brown-coated earth pony.

Mouse blinked when he saw him. “There’s no way…”

Sure enough, it was Pad Lock, the warden of the Canterlot Dungeon, walking across the street like he owned it. Mouse immediately felt his hooves twitch as the thought of killing rushed through his mind like a hurricane.

It took a second, a long second, for Mouse to keep his composure, and he nearly leapt in the earth pony right then and there.

You can do it.

You can get him.

No one can stop you.

It’s all his fault.

He took a deep breath, his hooves shaking as he watched the pony responsible for everything wrong with his life.

Honest ponies didn’t kill for money.

He wanted to be an honest pony.

Mouse watched as the Warden walked across the street, shoving a pony out of his way as headed for what appeared to be a bank.

Ponies like Pad Lock just made it very, very hard to stay honest.

Mouse was back in his room, and night was starting to fall. Despite his best efforts he was not falling asleep, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for another hour.

He wanted to be an honest pony, really, really, he did. Yet, Pad Lock walked as a free pony, and Mouse knew that he was anything but honest.

Mouse knew that the honest weren't necessarily innocent, but the fact that he was free to do what he wished dug at him.

It wasn't right.

Yes, he knew that there was no end to the hypocrisy. How dare he talk about what was right and wrong? Still, the idea that he shared freedom with a pony like Pad infuriated him.

What was the point of being honest when ponies like him were free? Could he live in the same world as that monster? Could he?

Mouse sighed, rolling over to face the package on his nightstand. It sat beside the unlit candle, almost as if it were waiting on him. Mouse’s eyes lit upon it, and he could imagine the contents within.

The package simply sat there, waiting.

He sighed, sitting up in his bed, and stared at the small parcel, picking it up in his magical grip. He opened it, staring at the key to the warden’s office, and the schedule that was all laid out for him. It was all there for him.

They waited.

The warden was in his office right now, according to the schedule, performing some late-night work. Before going home for the night.

He was right there.

He finally came to a decision.

His magic grabbed his cloak, and his bag, dressing himself quickly before he moved to the window. He threw it open, stepping into the stone windowsill, and leaping to a nearby rooftop.

He was only going to clean the streets a bit. This was a delay, noting more. He would be an honest pony one day.

One day, but now he had work to do.

The warden’s office was sequestered away in a large, municipal building that stood only a few yards from the castle that sat at the foot of the massive mountain for which the town was named.

Or was the mountain named after the town? Mouse wasn’t terribly sure.

The municipal building was three stories tall, jettying at each floor so it became ever so slightly larger than the one before, and Mouse knew, thanks to the package, that the warden’s office was on the second floor.

From his perch on the house just across the street Mouse could almost stare into the warden’s window. Now the the problem was getting there, the space between them was too far to jump, and climbing down would probably get the attention of the guards. He’d have to make his way around, and the only real way to do that was to go around.

He had a few choices, none of which guaranteed that he’d have his legs in one piece by the end of it. After running through those ideas, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to get to the warden’s office from his perch, and would have to drop down to the street.

Of course, the question is was it any better to approach from there? He’d make it to the base of municipal building, but then what? Did he simply go through the front door? The wattle and daub walls didn’t offer any hoof-holds for climbing, and the house next to that was likewise difficult to climb.

He really wished he had some rope. He had some once, but sold it because he was going to be honest pony, so he didn’t need it, or so he thought. Regrets would have to come later, he was doing enough to regret tonight, anyway.

He’d have to go down to the street. That was his only choice right now, and that was not what he wanted to do, either.

He could go home, right now.

He could go back to his room, leave this crazy idea of killing the warden behind, and move on with his life.

Or he could bring some long-overdue justice.to the warden.

Down to the street it was, then.

Mouse leapt down, swinging from the roof, down to the street, and cast his spell, becoming invisible as his hooves hit the cobblestones. He ran across the street, staying as silent as possible. He nearly slammed into the door of the municipal building, taking only enough time to see if there were any guards before opening the door.

The room had a desk, a set of chairs and tables, but was otherwise empty. Mouse shut the door behind him, thankful that no one was in here, and offering prayers to Luna for protection.

That was dangerous. He should have checked the room first. Looked through the window, or something.

He’d remember that for next time. For now, he had a job to do.

Pad Lock sighed as he filled in another request form.

Curse Princess Platinum and her sudden interest in prisoner care.

Who cares if the prisoners are standing in six inches of water because the cells have leaks. Since when did it matter? They were criminals, scum, and otherwise undesirable. They deserved whatever treatment they got.

You wouldn’t find this kind of whining back in the Republic of Earthonia. If there was one thing that the landowners were good at, it was dealing with with criminals. Sending them to the rune witches, death by hanging, cutting off ears, gouging out eyes, cutting off tails, anything that put the fear of Discord into them without making them useless in the field.

See, that’s why the Ex-chancellor should be put in charge. She’d know how to whip the criminals into shape. She’d set up the landowners owners again, keep them straight, and set up a new republic, the kind that Equestria deserved.

He signed another form, approving “better living conditions” for the prisoners, finishing his signature with a flourish and a sigh.

“Curse that Princess,” he muttered to himself, before he looked up.

His door was open.

He blinked, before standing up and working to the far side of the room. Did he leave his office door open? He didn’t remember leaving it open. In fact, he had a very clear memory of closing his door before he went to work on his paperwork.

Pad Lock pushed the door close, listening to to click as the latch slid into place.

That was...odd…

He turned, only to be thrown to the ground.

A flash of steel shot before his eyes and he felt the wind knocked out of him.

“Hello there, Warden…” a voice said as he felt something sharp press against his throat.

Pad Lock stared up at the pony that was straddling his chest. A thin, razor sharp blade was at his throat, and the unicorn glared down with angry, burning eyes.

“You know...now that I’m here, I think this is going to be worth it.”

Pad Lock didn’t answer.

The unicorn looked familiar, but Pad Lock couldn’t put his hoof on it. A criminal probably, they were the only ones who wanted him dead.

“Oh, look, it’s scum. What are you doing here, Scum?”

The unicorn’s face twisted. “I’m scum? Well at least you’re going to make this easy for me.”

“What, you’re going to kill me?” Pad Lock asked, his eyes dancing around the room.

“Yes, because you’re an awful pony, and you deserve to die.”

“Me?” the warden asked. “I made sure that scum like you rots.”

A quick kick from the earth pony sent Mouse flying, and he landed in a heap against the far wall.

Mouse scrambled to his hooves, his knives in his grip while the warden grabbed a heavy-looking stick off the wall. “Now I have the unique pleasure of putting scum like you down.”

They leapt at each other, Mouse keeping close to try and protect himself from the earth pony’s swings, while the warden went for the horn, smacking it with his hooves to disarm his opponent.

Mouse’s hind leg swung beneath, and the two of them went down in a mess of hooves and fur. The makeshift club was useless, and Mouse kept trying, with single-minded focus, to pull his knives close with his magic. The only thing that stopped him was the warden’s constant attacks to his horn.

Blows traded back and forth, and Mouse’s head began to ring as the warden’s continued assault on his Mouse’s horn. “Scum like you’s not going to kill me! Do you know who I am! I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again!”

Mouse’s horn rang to life, only to be bashed again by Pad’s hooves.

“You’re not going to kill me! I’ll kill you! You and all of your scum friends are going to die!” Pad Lock yelled, pushing Mouse on his back and raising the club over his head.

And then Mouse moved, grabbing the knife he had been moving closer and closer to his hoof. With the blade in his hoof, Mouse swung, slicing the sickle-like blade across the Warden’s belly.

The warden recoiled, closing on his stomach to protect himself.

“You need to pay more attention,” Mouse said, before he went for the throat.

He pushed up, leaping into the air, blade swinging hungrily for Pad Lock’s blood. It sliced through air and flesh alike, and in a single, fluid motion, Mouse’s knife slit the warden’s throat.

The two ponies stared at each other, Pad Lock reaching for his neck as blood began to seep out and pool at his hooves. Mouse glared as the warden looked up, horror frozen on his face.

And then Pad Lock fell to the ground, and was no more.

Mouse blinked, that was...faster than he thought.

And then the pain flooded his brain.

He clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut. That...that hurt a lot. He slouched as a migraine smashed over his skull, his “clever ploy” to catch the warden unaware with a blade in his hoof rewarding him with only pain.

Next time, he was just going to stab them in the back, making the warden stare him in the face didn't help at all.

It also didn't make him feel any better about throwing away the one thing he wanted.

Mouse returned to his room, and wasn’t even surprised to see the pale pony sitting by the dresser waiting for him. “Welcome back, Mouse. You’ve done well.”

“I don't want anything to do with you!” Mouse growled.

“So you’re going to let your kill go to waste?” the pale pony asked. “That seems dangerous…”

“I’m not...wait...dangerous?” Mouse asked, interrupting himself.

“The warden of Canterlot’s jail was murdered in his own office, magic residue will be found there, and by the morrow, a pony is going to be leaving town for Vanhoover. If caught and questioned, they are going to find that the magicks match with said pony, and you will be hanged.”

Mouse blinked. “Y-you’re blackmailing me?”

“Oh, no,” the pale pony said, shaking his head as he drank from a silver goblet that Mouse was fairly sure didn’t belong in his room. “We would never treat a family member like that.”

“I’m not your family!” Mouse growled.

“Oh, on the contrary,” the pale pony said. “You signed the contract.”

“What contract? I didn’t sign anything!”

“You took the warden’s life. Taking his life was sealing a covenant. The manner of execution was your signature, with Pad Lock’s blood as the ink. You have signed contract, brother. You are family, whether you recognize it or not. Of course, if you don’t live under our roof, then we can’t offer our protection.”

Mouse mentally cursed.

“You had to do it. You just had to kill Pad.”

“But it’s your choice,” the pale pony said with a smirk. “You can stay out, if you want. You can risk it, but be warned, the guards know how to find one who’s killed one of their own.”

The pale pony quickly stood. “If you change your mind, head to town of Tall Tale, nestled in the Smokey Mountains. We’ll find you, and we’ll take in you with open arms.”

Mouse said nothing.

“See you soon, brother,” the pony said, before walking out of the room.

Mouse waited for the door to close, and then he yelled.

“Sard it all!”

Chapter 15

Mouse thought long and hard about the pale pony and his book.

He thought about trying to make a living in Canterlot again. He could try to find a new, honest job in town, and it would keep him from getting too close to the town of Tall Tale, which just so happened to sit two days journey South of Vanhoover. Canterlot could have provided something, he knew the could.

The only thing that stopped him from staying was the ridiculous number of guards that were flooding the streets the morning after he killed the Warden. So instead he hired the newly arrived cart, and began riding for Vanhoover at a quick pace.

It was only natural then that his thoughts turned to Vanhoover. Mouse knew little of the city, but from what Cut Purse said, getting a job wasn't going to do difficult. The only issue was that free lodging and board was two days away, for the low price of becoming a contract killer, tempting him with the idea of safety and revenge.

Bit how long until the guards caught wind? How long until the country-wide ponyhunt led them to his door? He had heard enough stories about ponies that thought they were safe, only to open their door one day to a large squad of guards eager to arrest their quarry. The pale pony said that he wouldn't help the guards catch him, but he wouldn't help Mouse keep the Feathers off his back unless he joined their little cult.

And what if news already spread? Mouse had heard of ways to get messages to cross massive distances, and he was sure the guard had at least one of them. They could have sent a bulletin ahead, the guards could already be on high alert. He’d have no way of knowing until he got there, and then the guards would already be at the advantage.

And then came Tall Tale.

Free shelter. Free food. A well paying job.

By Luna did it pay well.

Mouse thought back to the coin purse that appeared on his nightstand while he slept. The only mark on the bag was the tiny note tied around the bag’s mouth that simply read “Your pay.” Beyond that, the only thing of note was that the poor thing was almost stuffed to bursting. When he finally opened it, Mouse found it filled with gold, silver, and copper bits. It came to four hundred and fifty days wages we he finally counted it out, and he was doing his best to breathe easily as the bits spilled onto his hoof.

Mouse had felt no regret when he killed Pad Lock. The Warden had deserved every wound and more. Yet as he took that bag, and felt its heft in his hooves, he almost felt guilty for taking the blood money.

Almost.

Mouse sighed. Why was this so difficult?

Every part of him wanted to defy the pale pony and his book. He wanted to be honest. He wanted to live a peaceful life, one free of the guards breathing down his neck. That's all he ever wanted.

Yet more than a year's worth of bits for ending the life of scum had definitely made him second guess that. Not to mention that his safety was guaranteed, and all he had to worry about was the next life he was going to take.

It just left such a bad taste in his mouth.

Everything he wanted, gone. You might be able to disappear from thieves, especially when one of them is covering you from the inside, but assassins? Assassins would hunt you down and kill you just to keep you silent.

Still, wasn’t death worth the chance of freedom?

Mouse thought about this all the way to Vanhoover. It was a terrible question, one that he rolled over and over in his mind. The old stallion that raised him had made his stance on these kind of risks clear.

“Never try to escape unless you are sure that you will survive. The time will come when you can leave, but it will mean nothing if you wind up dead because you were impatient.”

Still, the chance at an honest life. He was already free, all he had to do was take it.

“Ah, but it’s not just the assassins you need to worry about.”

That was true. Again, the guards could be after him. How long until the birds made their way to Vanhoover? What then? On the run, hiding in the wilderness for weeks? Months? Years? No, no that fate was not his. If he could choose anything, he would at least choose not to run. He was not some common bandit to be forced on the lam. He was better than that at least.

Still…

Mouse thought long, and hard, but when he finally, finally stepped off the cart, he knew what he decided. He didn’t like it, but it was his decision, so with a final sigh, he gathered his bag, and immediately began to head south, toward the small town of Tall Tale.

Tall Tale was a mining town. The mountains that it cradled the small collection of stone buildings were filled with gems, and no doubt owed by another unicorn lord that had come to the frontier to make his fortune.

Earth pony and unicorn miners walked the streets, and crates full of gems went to carts to be traded away. A handful still went up to the manor house set up on one of the smaller mountaintops, to be enchanted, no doubt. Pegasi moved the carts about, teams lifting them wholly into the air to carry them across town.

The town was alive and working, not really what Mouse was expecting for a home of assassins. Still, he kept his eyes open for the pale pony and his book as he walked through the village.

“Quite scenic, isn’t it?” a voice asked beside him, and Mouse almost wasn’t even surprised when he turned to see the pale pony standing beside him. “There’s an incredible peace to this place. Beauty casts the greatest of shadows.”

“So you’re going to throw it into chaos?” Mouse asked.

“Eventually, not yet. There’s still more to do. Still more death to sow,” the pale pony whispered. “For now, it is a bounty to be enjoyed. A summer before the endless winter, or so our employer thinks.”

Mouse raised an eyebrow.

“This is not autumn, but spring, and life is yet budding in the earth. Frost may cling to the dew-covered grass, but the tree has not yet bloomed...” the pale pony muttered, before he turned his attention back to Mouse. “And here you are.”

“Yes...here am I, after being blackmailed into it,” Mouse nearly growled.

“Blackmail?” the the pale pony asked with a smile. “There was no blackmail. No threat. Not from us. No, the threat is from beyond, hidden by shadows and time. Only on the pages of knowledge are those secrets seen, but clarity must be sacrificed for comprehension.”

Mouse blinked.

This wasn’t how he remembered the pale pony. The last time they spoke, he had been clear, concise, and could practically dance around Mouse in a conversation. The stallion next to him barely could hold on to this conversation. “Are...are you alright?”

“Is anyone?” the pale pony asked, before walking ahead, down the alleys of the town.

Mouse watched him go, before he finally sighed and followed. “So where are you taking me?”

“The home of shadows, death, and ghosts,” he replied, heading for the mountains.

Past houses, down alleys, across streets, Mouse's guide walked past them all, quickly passing out of the town, and making their way to the empty wilderness, where the gems and metals were processed. They skirted around the smelters, the sluices, and stamp mills, making their past the processing grounds and to the mountains proper.

No one saw them. Between the evening shadows of the mountains, and the worker’s eagerness to head home, Mouse and his guide may as well have been invisible.

“Where are we going?” Mouse asked as they began to climb the mountainside.

“Home, little nail, home.”

“Nail? My name's Mouse.”

The pale pony ignored him, but continued to lead him up the mountain until finally they reached a peak. A small outcropping of stone stood between two sheer walls, both nearly cliffs with only a steep climbing path as the way up from the town.

Mouse groaned as he finished the climb, pulling himself onto the outcropping with a final grunt, before he began to gasp for air.

“Are you well, Brother?” The pale pony asked.

“Just winded…” Mouse gasped. “Give me...a second…”

“We cannot wait much longer,” he said, pointing to the setting sun. “Celestia will sleep soon, and the beasts of the mountain will waken, famished from their sleep.”

Finally, Mouse stood. “Alright, I’m ready.”

The stallion nodded, and crossed the outcropping, before walking through the stone, passing through it like a ghost.

Mouse blinked, before he hesitantly followed. He passed through the illusionary wall, doing his best to hide his surprise, before his eyes locked on the corridor in front of him.

Carved from the living stone, the corridor stood with smooth walls and perfect corners. Flagstones that seemed to be carved into the ground formed five hooves in, marking the inside and the outside in a single, undeniable line.

Yet this was nothing compared to the door.

Carved from black stone, the monolithic door sat flush with the mountain wall. A massive skull, carved from perfect, white marble, stared at him with ruby eyes, and crossed daggers were engraved into the surface beneath the skull.

The pale pony stood before the door, and spoke. “Spirit, answer me.”

The rubies began to glow, throwing the corridor in crimson light, before an ethereal figure formed before them. An earth pony took shape before them, a young mare who whimpered as she appeared. “Why? You took my life, why must you rouse me from my sleep? Why?”

“Spirit, I wish to enter,” the pale pony ordered.

The spirit groaned in pain, but spoke again. “Every night it takes you. You may try to escape, but will suffer. Then it will last forever. What am I?”

“Sleep,” the stallion answered before the door opened, and the ghost whined as she was kept on the earth ever longer.

“Follow, Mouse, follow or leave her to suffer.”

Mouse balked at the thought, and slid inside, where the door shut behind him.

He was surrounded by darkness, before an unseen mechanism lit a set of gemtorches above him. The room was thrown into harsh light, and harsher shadow as the red, magical light streamed down from above.

“This way, lifetaker,” the pale earth pony said, before he led Mouse deeper down the hall, before taking a sudden left. Blinking at the revealed passage, Mouse followed quickly behind, until they finally came to a large chamber.

They stood on a large balcony that hung ten feet off the bottom of the chamber. Red tapestries hung from the walls, depicting blades, blood, and a strange, creature that Mouse had never seen before.

Five ponies milled about beneath them, but they all quickly noticed their entrance. “Dearest family,” the pale pony said as he stood at the railing, “we have a new member!”

A pegasus from below leapt up, wings spreading to catch the air as he climbed up to the balcony. The navy blue pegasus with a deep blue mane, and a keyhole over crossed daggers on his flank glared at Mouse. The pegasus circled him once before speaking. “So why did you bring him, Oracle? What has he done?”

“It’s not what he has done, but what he will do,” the pale pony said with a smile.

The pegasus took one last look at Mouse before shrugging. “If you say so.”

The others began to move, climbing the stairs to inspect this new arrival. Two mares and two stallions all joined them, staring at the new pony with careful eyes. A unicorn mare glared from squinting, harsh eyes, while the pegasus mare with a quiver on her back looked him up and down.

The earth pony stallion nodded as he came around, before another pony gasped. “What? What is this?!” the unicorn stallion asked, getting everyone’s attention. “Oracle, Oracle, did you get him for me?”

“What are you talking about, Ghoul?” the pegasus stallion asked.

“Look!” the unicorn named Ghoul said, as he threw Mouse’s cloak back over his back to reveal his flanks. “He has no cutie marks!” Ghoul cried, joy on his face, before he pressed his face against Mouse’s bare flank. “It’s perfect! A pure, immaculate canvas upon which I can spread my art!”

Mouse pulled away, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the pony called Ghoul.

“Alright, alright, lay off,” the pegasus mare said. “You’re going to scare the little guy.”

“The art I shall paint upon that flank!” Ghoul wailed in artistic ecstasy. “The tales I will be able to spin!”

“He’s just excited,” the earth pony said. “I, meanwhile, am just happy to see another pony in service to the Void.”

The archer mare rolled her eyes. “And he can be a bit of a zealot,” she said, pointing to the earth pony.

He said nothing in return.

“Now, now, not yet…” the pale pony, Oracle, said. “Somepony still needs to die before he can join our family.”

There was a collective nod of consent, and Mouse quickly felt uncomfortable between the group of ponies. “W-who has to die?” Mouse asked.

“The old body must die that the spirit may soar,” Oracle said as the other ponies pushed him forward, “You must be put to the sword, so you may put the sword to others.”

Mouse didn't really like the sound of that idea. “So I have to die? Honestly, I can't say I’m all in favor for that. Could we try something else.”

“You’ll be fine,” the blue Pegasus grunted.

“You say that…” Mouse began.

“Be silent,” the other earth pony growled. “Have some decorum before the void.”

That didn’t put him at ease, either.

Funneled down the stairs into a separate chamber, Mouse soon found himself staring at an altar surrounded by crimson banners and low-burning candles. The door was shut behind them, and Mouse was soon left standing in the center of the room, before the altar.

Oracle stood on the other side of the altar, like a preacher in a temple, and nearly yelled as he began to speak. “Behold, we stand before the Void, waiting to bring this new pony into our fold. He has signed the contract, and sealed the covenant, there is but one thing that remains. To join our family, the he was must die, and a new pony will be born. Stand now before us, pony doomed to die, stand and be judged!”

Mouse was really starting to hope this was all symbolic.

“Speak your name into the Void,” the earth pony demanded.

“I...I am Mouse,” he answered back, deciding that answering the professional killers might be the better idea.

“You are no longer. The pony you were is dead,” Oracle said, before a puff of smoke erupted against the altar, and a mare, emaciated and delirious appeared on its surface. “With the death of this pony, your name, your family, and all your connections are rendered unto the Void. You will have a new name, and we shall be your family, you will need no connections but those you make in blood.”

A single dagger, with a long, wickedly curved blade appeared over the altar. “The time has come for you to be reborn, but a life costs a life, and blood must be spilled.”

Mouse was getting really, really uncomfortable.

The dagger floated down, hovering over the mare who barely seemed awake. “The first lesson of the Void is that existence is pain and destiny. Beyond your purpose in life, there is only suffering. The first tenant of the Void states that to kill is to bestow mercy. Look now, one called Mouse, look at your victim and see her suffering.”

Mouse looked down at the mare, who groaned as she stirred on the slab before him. Her ribs were visible beneath her fur, and her lips were cracked and dry.

“See her pain, and release her. Be reborn in her death,” Oracle cried, screaming with the passion of a crazed evangelist.

The dagger laid itself down in front of him.

“Release her,” Oracle demanded. “Release her, and take your rightful place.”

Mouse stared down at the mare, and tears began to form as she became more lucid. She writhed as some unseen agony forced her to roll into a ball.

His throat was dry, and he felt the eyes of the other assassins on his back. Biting his lip, and sweating, he slowly picked up the knife.

She whimpered, before looking up at him.

Mouse looked her in the eye.

She stared back, on the verge of weeping.

Mouse gulped, gripping the dagger in her hooves.

Her cracked, and bleeding lips parted, and she whispered a single, broken word.

“P-pl-please…”

And Mouse brought the blade down, ending her suffering once and for all.

“And so the pony known as Mouse is dead. In it’s place is a new creature, an apparition of death itself, a spirit of murder and vengeance. Now, there is only the pony that shall forever be known as Ghost.”

Mouse, or Ghost rather, had been led to a bed as quickly as possible. He didn’t remember getting to it, he was too busy remembering the horrified look of the mare as he stabbed her heart to really pay attention. Yet, it seemed Luna was forgiving, and his dreams were pleasant.

When he finally woke up, he had almost forgotten what he had done the day before.

Almost.

Pushing the image of her pleading eyes away, the pony now known as Ghost wandered out of his room, and into the main chamber that he saw the other day.

There didn’t seem to be anyone there, but the tables were full, and the hearth was warm and crackling.

Taking a few, tentative steps forward, he approached the table to find breads, fruits, and pastries waiting for him, along with tankards filled with a light, morning ale. The plates and dinnerware were silver, and a rich, red tablecloth was draped across its length. Mouse, or Ghost, whichever, walked to the table with perhaps slightly more caution than was necessary for approaching breakfast.

The food did not make a move to attack.

Taking that as a sign that it was perhaps safe, Mouse closed the rest of the distance, and carefully picked up an apple.

“So there you are,” a voice said, nearly causing Mouse to leap out of his skin.

He spun, trying not to draw his daggers, as he saw the pegasus mare with the bow and quiver on her back. “It’s good to see you, brother.”

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just...I just didn’t think I was going to be an assassin when I started this.”

“That’s what Wraith said,” she told him, moving past Mouse to grab a tankard.

“I’m sorry, Wraith?”

“She’s the unicorn that hates everyone,” she replied. “I’m Specter, one of the best archers in the world, and I dare you to prove me wrong.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mouse said.

She chugged her drink, swallowing mouthfuls in seconds. She slammed her empty tankard down, and sighed happily.

Mouse waited.

She looked over at him. “What you want me to introduce everyone?”

“It’d be nice,” Mouse admitted.

She rolled her eyes. “Well you’ve already met Ghoul, he’s got this weird art thing going on. You know who Oracle is, he kind leads us, tells us who we’re killing and stuff. There there’s Demon and Phantom. Phantom’s a good guy, easy to get along with. You’ll like him,” she said, before she reached for another tankard. “Demon on the other hoof, he’s a nutjob.”

“I’m noticing a trend with the names.”

Emptying her second drink as fast as her first, she nodded. “Yeah, Oracle like his drama, and his metaphors. That could be because he’s going crazy though.”

“Crazy?” Mouse asked, slightly concerned that he sold his life away to a madpony.

“It's his book,” she explained. “Lets him read the future or something. Also turns his brain to mush, but that's his choice.” She grabbed another tankard, and drank it at a much slower pace. “Look, I can tell you everything there is to know about our little ‘family,’ but really you’re just going to have to learn for yourself.”

Mouse nodded. “Right...right…”

She took another swig of her drink before rolling her eyes. “Oh quit being a baby about it. Look at it this way, if anyone’s annoyed you back in the ‘world of the living,’ as Oracle calls it, then you'll finally have a chance to get ‘em back.”

Mouse nodded, “I guess.”

Specter nodded. “That's better, now quit picking at the food and eat something before Demon gets in here. That earth pony could eat us out of house and home if he wanted to.”

Mouse muttered a thanks under his breath, and quickly began to stuff several apples into this magical bag.

“Oh, and Ghost,” Specter said, breaking the silence between deep gulps of her drink.

He looked up at her.

“Welcome to the family.”

Chapter 16

It took a week before Mouse could finally get a good night’s sleep. Over the course of that week, the stallion had found himself being...apprenticed? Was that the right word for this?

“Pay attention, Ghost,” the earth pony named Demon told him, before he brought the flat of his blade against Mouse’s flank. The steel snapped into him like a whip, and Mouse had to bite back tears as his muscles screamed.

Tortured might also be an applicable word.

“Keep moving your hooves,” Demon ordered. “If you stand still, you’ll wind up dead.”

He began moving his hooves, dancing around the target dummies as he was forced into another full day of combat training. His knives spun and sliced at the dummy, and Moused danced for Demon, who watched with a drawn sword.

One of the blades made a superficial cut, and Demon responded with another slap to Mouse’s flanks. “Strike to kill, not distract.”

Mouse felt a whimper that he could not stop building in his throat. He tried, tried desperately to keep it silent, but finally, could only manage to mask it behind a question. “Why are we doing this?”

“You’re a killer now,” Demon answered, “but you’re unrefined. You’re a club, and while serviceable, the Void asks for more.”

The Void. Mouse had heard enough of those two words in the past week to last a lifetime. The Void was some strange amalgamation of a god, a force of nature, and the afterlife. The Void was everything to this strange little family, and especially so to Demon. In the short time he had know him, Demon had made it perfectly clear that he was a devout, and zealous worshiper of the Void.

The shrine that he kept in his bedroom was an excellent testament to the fact.

“And what does the Void ask for?” Mouse asked.

“That you be something beyond mortal,” Demon answered simply. “You must be able take lives as simply as breathing. If you enter a room, you must be able to slay everyone as if you were the Void himself. You are his representative and his avatar, and so you must be like him.”

Mouse drove a knife into the training dummy, digging in hard. Unfortunately, every ounce of his strength had to eviscerate the wooden figure, only for Demon to slap him again. “A death is not worth the risk of standing still. Always keep moving.”

Mouse seethed, now sure that his flank was glowing red through his fur. Grinding his teeth together, he attacked again, trying to make the same deep attack while moving at the same time. The blow was not as deep this time, but at least Demon didn’t slap him again. “It will take several years to get you into proper shape, but at the very least you have promise.”

Another quick, series of attacks, and Mouse slowed to a stop. “I can’t go much longer.”

Demon sighed. “Luckily for you, I believe you should perfect your stance before your endurance is tested.”

“Good thing, too,” Phantom, the pegasus Mouse first met when he was introduced, said, stepping into the room. “Oracle just told me that Ghost here is going to get his first official job, and we need to start preparing him.”

Demon nodded. “Good. Then you can bring glory to the Void,” he said, turning to Mouse and sheathing one of his many swords.

“Take a nap, Ghost,” Phantom ordered. “Once you’re refreshed, we’ll start briefing you.”

Mouse sighed, but happily began to head back to his room. Some sleep sounded amazing right now, especially after being beaten by Demon all day. As he sheathed the crescent knives, and walked out of the room, only to meet the glaring eyes of the unicorn, Wraith. “What are you doing?” she asked, growling.

Mouse, just on the border of being too tired and too beat up to care, moved to the side. “Going to bed.”

Wraith glared at him, staring at him from behind a shock of cream-colored hair, and shook her head. “Sure you are.”

Mouse sighed and walked past, while Wraith continued to glare. He’d care more later, but now he was going to sleep.

He finally made it to his room, an almost opulent room with a goose-feather bed, rich linen sheet dyed a dark crimson, and enough tapestries of the strange, black, serpentine figure that represented the Void, to keep the stone room warm during the winter.

He quickly dropped onto his mattress and rolled into the sheets, pulling them close before he quickly drifted off to sleep.

“Your target is Golden Spear,” Oracle explained. “The Canterlot Captain of the Guard has made his last arrest.”

Mouse listened, happy that, at the very least, it was another guard that he had to kill.

Oracle sat on the other side of a large table, with the Tome sitting closed between them. “Your job for this mission is simple. You are to kill the Captain of the Guard, by any means you see fit, remain undetected, and place this envelope on the Captain's desk,” Oracle said, before sliding the envelope across the table towards Mouse.

Mouse picked it up. “What’s in here?”

“A few documents that will incriminate the Captain when an investigation is launched. With any luck, it’ll bring Commander Hurricane down on the whole department. When that happens the Captain’s successor, someone who takes her job very seriously, won’t be taking the desk, and we’ll be more free to move to complete our goals.”

“We have goals beyond killing people?” Mouse asked.

Oracle smiled. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

Mouse gave the pale pony a glance before he set the envelope back down. “So when do I leave?”

“Not yet,” Oracle told him. “There is yet more for you to learn.”

Mouse sighed.

Of course.

“The Captain of the guard lives in Canterlot castle, and frequently works with the Princess, Chancellor, and the Commander to keep the city alive. Unfortunately, we do not know where in the castle he lives, that is a part of your job.”

“Okay, so...I’m going to have to track him down?”

“From the throne room,” Oracle agreed.

“The throne room?” Mouse asked. “You’re telling me to go to the throne room, where Princess Platinum is?”

Oracle nodded. “Yes, exactly that.”

Mouse wasn’t sure an assassin sneaking into the throne room of a pony that had an attempt on her life a few months ago was a good idea.

“You’ll be safe as long as you stick to the rafters,” Oracle said.

“The rafters?”

Oracle tapped the Tome. “I have read it. You get to the rafters, and you will be safe.”

Mouse sighed, and shook his head, before suddenly stopping. “Wait. You know I’m safe in the rafters, but not where the Captain’s room is?”

Oracle grabbed the tome and slid it towards him, cradling the book in his hooves. “Reading the tome is not so easy, Ghost.”

Mouse did his best to suppress a groan. “So when do I leave?”

“As soon as you can,” the pale pony said.

“And what provisions am I taking?”

“None.”

Mouse looked at him. “‘None?’ I’m taking nothing?”

“Nothing but your own blades,” Oracle confirmed.

“The trip to Canterlot could take a week!” Mouse said. “What am I supposed to eat?”

Oracle simply smiled, stood, and motioned for Mouse to follow.

Getting up from his seat, and with the ever-present reminder that he was surrounded by very powerful assassins, Mouse didn't complain as he followed Oracle down another hallway that he hadn't had the chance to explore yet. The hallway, still decorated with the black and red tapestries that seemed to be everywhere, was marked by a strange almost mosaic-like set of flagstones that depicted long, black rectangles that ran the length of the hall.

When they finally made it to the room, Mouse wasn't sure what he was looking at, but he knew it was awe-inspiring.

Thirteen void-black monoliths stood against the wall, spread equally around the room. By each massive rectangle, hung a black key on a leather thong, each with a different set of teeth which matched a small, black mosaic at the foot of every column of shadow.

“These are Shadowgates,” Oracle explained. “These are...well, our employer gave them to us for the express purpose of moving across the country as quickly as possible. Each one is linked to one of thirteen small, magical gems across Equestria. You walk through, and you pass the threads of the world to someplace new in the tapestry of reality. There, the gem is the keyhole to the door back, and the shadows take you in open arms…”

He was beginning to ramble, and it was making Mouse slightly nervous. Still, he understood what was going on. The Shadowgates were a teleportation structure that would take him to Canterlot and the key, when used with the magical gem, would let him come back.

“Which one leads to Canterlot?” He asked, hoping for a lucid answer.

“The three crowns rule the tower. Three crowns to two, then one. Always wings, horn, and hooves, so it will always be,” he said, before pointing at the Shadowgate marked with three peaks that looked like crowns.

Good enough.

“I’ll get a cloak, talk to the others and I’ll head out,” he told the earth pony.

“Sun and Moon come down to rule. The clouds, plains and mountains bow in answer.”

“Whatever you say, Oracle,” Mouse replied.

“The Nail will save us…”

When Mouse stepped through the Shadowgate, he was expecting the screams of the damned or the starving roar of demons. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to find the trip to be nearly silent. He heard nothing until he stepped out of the darkness, and into an alleyway in Canterlot, filled with the noises of brothels being enjoyed, and louts slowly becoming drunk as the evening passed into night.

The sun was down, and the chilly air quickly sapped the warmth from Mouse's body. He drew his cloak tight around himself, and checked the wall behind him. A small, black stone, an onyx, it seemed, sat buried in the wall, waiting for the key to open the Shadowgate again.

Taking the key, from his neck, he dropped it into his magical bag, and watched as the onyx disappeared completely.

“Huh,” he muttered to himself. “Just like Spectre said…”

He refocused, looking up the wall of the building next to him. He needed to get his bearings, and getting up on the roof would help him with that. With a careful look around, and all the experience he had from his time running with Cut Purse and his thieves, he quickly found his path up, and leapt from wall to wall, to support jetty, up and up and onto the edge of the thatch roof of the brothel he had appeared beside.

His eyes scanned the buildings around him, while he ignored the sounds of the pair enjoying themselves below the heavy thatch beneath him. It took a few moment, but finally he found the castle. A large keep with tall walls and great towers sitting at the foot of the mountain stood before him, and Mouse quickly tried to find his way in.

With the night getting on, the gates were closed. The walls were tall, and sheer, and he would need to be a pegasus in order to get over them. Braziers glowed softly from the top of the towers and the walls, illuminating it, and keeping it bright enough to see a cloaked pony.

It was not going to be easy getting in. Definitely not, and once he was in, there was no way he’d be able to hide on the walls. He’d have to be quick, and make sure that the guards weren’t looking at him when he finally climbed over.

The question remained, though. How was he going to climb the walls? There were no buildings nearby, nothing he could climb, and he had no rope. There was no way he was making it up the wall by himself. He needed a way in.

Phantom had briefly talked about Postern gates, and a single door would be much easier to get through. The only issue was the very long, no doubt guarded, corridor with no cover for him to hide in. If he went in as he was, he’d be found, and have nowhere to run as they unleashed a volley of arrows. He’d be a pincushion before he had time to cry out.

The only way he was getting through was by spending his energy on an invisibility spell, and while he could hold it for a decent amount of time, he wouldn’t be able confidently use it again without rest. He would burn his spell getting in, and wouldn’t be able to use it when he needed help.

What else could he do?

There were the prisons…

Ignoring the fact that he hated the idea of ever returning to the Canterlot jail, he could sneak through the sewer, through the labyrinth that the Princess had escaped with, and come back into the cells. The only problem was moving on from there.

The door that separated the cells from the Guard’s barracks could only be opened from inside the barracks. It had no mechanism for opening on the inside, and the only way a guard could get through was to knock on the door, and get the watchman on the other side to open it.

It would make for a decent way out, but he still hated being down there…

There was the main gate. The one that was shut tight for the night, and wasn’t opening till morning. He could open it, but that would be the equivalent of take a prisoner’s food when he was five feet away, and staring at his plate.

He’d...he’d just have to bring a grappling hook next time.

Groaning, he slid down, back to the street, and quickly made his way for the castle.

He moved, sliding from alleyway to alleyway, before he came to the massive earthen bulwark that the castle had been built on. While not as steep as the castle wall, it was still nearly impossible to climb.

The hard-packed, water-smoothed, synthetic mesa offered no hoof-holds, and would come apart with a step. He had no real way of getting up there, not that he could see. After a few minutes, he quickly decided he’d have to climb the main road up, and be in full view of the guards as he did.

Luna’s silver...why did castles have to be so hard to get into?

Looking around, Mouse tried to find a way up that wouldn’t get him discovered by the wandering eye of a guard. The thought of getting a running start came to him a couple of times, but he wasn't sure how useful it would be.

Without any other real options, Mouse backed up, took a deep breath, and fan for the packed dirt wall.

He scrambled, grabbing everything to try and move forward. Dirt and rocks sprayed out from under him, before his footing gave way, and he crashed into the soil.

He slid back down the wall, cursing Seyella with every breath.

Why the goddess of fate? Simple, she started it.

As he collected himself at the bottom of the bulwark, Mouse slowly had a different idea. Drawing his knives, he stuck one of the crescent blades into the bulwark, hoping that the magical blade wouldn’t be dulled by the dirt and rocks. The other knife he stuck even higher up the bulwark, and then ran at the earthen wall again. This time, with the knife handles acting as platforms for him to land and recover on, Mouse was able to climb the bulwark, onto the wide pony-made mesa that surrounded the castle walls.

With the aid of his magic, he retrieved his knives, and took a moment to check their edges before he moved on, towards the postern gate.

The gate, which was little more than a heavy wooden door, gave way to his lockpicking spell with relative ease. He even passed through the long, and easily defensible hallway on the other side of the gate with ease, but only because of his invisibility spell.

He didn’t like relying on the spell he could use maybe twice a day reliably. Of course, he liked the idea of walking through a hallway that could have been covered and cleared by a single fireball spell much less.

Still, at the very least he was able to ride his invisibility spell all the way to the palatial keep, where the donjon and the watch tower stood tall over the castle walls while the great hall reached out across the courtyard. Slipping inside was not terrible hard, but his invisibility was quickly pushing its boundaries, and he still had to get to the throne room.

Not to mention finding a way into the rafters.

Still, he had to move forward. Moving through the shadows, and hugging the walls, ducking down into small alcoves whenever the guards walked past.

He slowly, ever so slowly made his way forward, before finally finding the throne room doors. Of course, he couldn’t just walk in, he’d be spotted immediately, not to mention the pair of guards that were standing at attention to each side of the door.

There was no way he’d get through there, much less get to the rafters from there.

He couldn’t get there from the outside, the roof was covered in iron to keep it protected during a siege, so he’d have to find somewhere else to get up to the rafters. With little choice, Mouse began to head upstairs, hoping that Phantom knew what he was talking about when he mentioned the possibility of a balcony.

“Us pegasi love balconies,” he had explained, “they’re like miniature dive boards that we can leap off at any moment. It leaves us with a feeling of freedom. We can buzz a crowd and fly out the door at a word. Pegasi love balconies.”

Then he gave a wide smile. “And since Canterlot is the capital of this little ‘peace and harmony’ thing, you’ll almost certainly find something.”

Keeping this in mind, Mouse began to search for a way up, trying desperately to find a staircase up.

Ducking into every shadow, and hiding behind anything that could conceivably be considered cover, Mouse began to move down one of the hallways, doing everything he could to avoid the guards. Finally, he found a single staircase up and he quickly climbed the steps, causing only a creak of a board to mark his passage.

The only problem was that Mouse nearly ran straight into a guard.

As rounded the corner, he nearly ran face first into an armored flank. By some miracle of darkness, or, perhaps, a more divinely lunar source, the guard walking by did not notice the cloaked pony that nearly slammed into his legs, and continued walking in the darkness.

It took Mouse's heart a second or two to start up again, but he finally felt a beat and breathed again. He took a second to wonder why the guard wasn't carrying at least a candle to light his way down the otherwise dark alley, before he continued on his way.

Silently thanking the moonlit goddess, Mouse snuck further down, turning a corner before stopping in front of a bright shaft of warm light.

A couple of voices muttered, wafting up through the air to Mouse's attentive ears. Peeking into the arch where the light spilled into the hall, Mouse found himself staring at the great hall, from the perch of one of Phantom’s tell-tale balconies.

A pair of braziers at each side of the room lit the great all with warm, orange light. A set of thrones stood at far end, where three ponies spoke to each other.

If he stayed quiet, he could just barely hear them.

“This may be a sign, Princess,” the earth pony of the trio said. She wore a large, wide brimmed hat to cover her orange mane, and a simple brown jacket around her pale pink chest. “The people may fear a monarchy. This may be a call for a Republic.”

The pegasus stallion groaned. “Puddinghead, can you let Republic rest for a few seconds?”

“It is the most fair system,” the earth pony replied. “You can't deny that.”

“It's fair as long as you're a landowner,” the armored stallion said. “Unfortunately, we don't have many of those.”

“Well, if everypony had a vote then it would take too long to count. Letting the landowners vote for his ponies is a short cut.”

“Which leads to corruption,” the pegasus countered.

“Hurricane, please,” the mare, Princess Platinum said, wearily. “Please, let this go for tonight. I am far too tired to argue politics.”

Commander Hurricane, the pegasus at Platinum’s right, sighed. “Princess, I get that it’s hard, but you need to move on, and you need to be strong. For your ponies if nothing else.”

She shook her head. “How do you do it, Hurricane? How do you watch everyone die around you?”

He sighed, before giving her a tired smile. “I’m a soldier, ma’am.”

Mouse heard a noise behind him. The clank of metal armor as two sets of hooves began to run down the hallway through the arch.

“Captain Brass said he thought he heard something,” a guard’s voice said behind him. “We're on alert.”

Mouse's eye went wide, before he looked up to the rafters that sat just above his head. He got onto the balcony rail, using it as a stepping stone as he climbed up to the rafters. The thief held his breath as he did so, hoping that the three leaders of the country didn't notice him as they continued to whisper to each other.

“You’re standing tall before the ponies,” Puddinghead said. “They can't ask more from you.”

“No,” Platinum began. “No, Hurricane is right. I need a clear mind for the time ahead. I do not know what troubles lay ahead of us, but I must prepare.”

Mouse just managed to pull himself up, gripping onto the heavy oak beam as a guard walked onto the balcony. He was only saved by the fact that most ponies don’t look straight up as he stared down at the guard beneath him.

“What I’m truly worried about the little criminal that you two let go,” Hurricane said.

Platinum shook her head. “Clover said he would save us.”

“I know...I know she did,” Hurricane said. “I just have to wonder if it’s wise to trust this terrible fate to a criminal.”

“Hey, I did nothing. I was innocent when I met the Princess,” Mouse thought in answer, waiting for the guard below him to continue on his way.

“Who knows, that little cretin could be robbing ponies blind, or murdering ponies in their beds,” Hurricane continued.

Mouse shrugged. “Alright...you may have me on that one...but I was forced into this. It wasn’t my choice.”

“I trust Clover,” the Princess said. “I still trust her.”

The dark grey stallion sighed and nodded. “I know you do.”

The guard below him finally moved, and Mouse began to move, slowly crawling across the beams to get closer and closer to the throne. Golden Spear had to get in here eventually, and if not, then he and Oracle would have to have some words.

The founders beneath him continued to sigh and mutter, talking with each other in hushed tones before a new pony walked into the room. Wearing golden armor, the stallion walked in, and saluted. “Commander, Princess, Chancellor.”

“Still ex-chancellor,” Puddinghead replied.

“The guards have reported another increase in theft. Whoever is behind the string of break ins is back.”

The Commander sighed. “Didn’t we have one of these ponies in prison a few months ago?”

“Yes, sir, but he was only caught with some stolen pillows. There was nothing incriminating enough to lock him up for long.”

Mouse smiled at that.

Hurricane sighed.

Then Platinum spoke up, her voice as soft as ever. “Golden Spear, I believe we all have had a long day, and the hour grows late. I think it is perhaps time that we retired for the night.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Mouse began to search for a way down. He found Golden Spear, and it was his mission to follow him to his room. Unfortunately, the only thing that really reached from the ceiling to the floor were the massive curtains, and he was not confident enough to slide down.

Everyone was up and moving, including Mouse’s target, and the thief-cum-assassin needed to stay close.

The founders just left the room, and Golden Spear had just taken the second door on the right side.

He was running out of time, and had no real options. He had to do something, and he had to be quick.

He jumped, leaping off the rafter, and slammed into the wall, and the curtain hanging off of it. Grabbing onto the soft, smooth, fabric, Mouse tried to slow his descent to the floor. He grabbed the curtain with hooves and teeth, even as he felt himself slip and slide down.

A ripping sound reached Mouse's ears, followed quickly by a fast and sudden drop.

Mouse barely had the time to look up before he was swinging, the curtain transforming into a massive rope that carried Mouse back to the floor.

He landed, rolling against the flagstones as the curtain rope ladder he was using dropped him to the ground.

He didn't have time.

With this thought ringing in his head, Mouse pulled himself up and ran across the throne room, following the Captain of the Guard back to his room.

He tried to keep his breath in check as he followed his target down the corridors of the castle, and he was sure that the only thing that kept Golden from hearing him was the chunk-chunk-clack of his armor. Using that to his advantage, Mouse began to synchronize their steps, and, as always, stuck to cover.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Golden Spear opened a door, and stepped into a lone room.

Mouse quickly took stock.

From the sound of it, there was another guard patrolling nearby. The door bore a simple lock that was engaged with a heavy thunk, but that was easy enough. The door could be leading to another hallway, but the Captain locking the door made it unlikely.

This was it.

He could burst into the room right now, but Mouse didn't need to be an expert assassin to know that it was a bad idea. Instead, he had to be careful.

The patrolling guard could come down this way, And Mouse would have a lovely one-way trip back to the dungeons. If the door was simply separating hallways, then he was losing ground.

He checked the keyhole, looking through the large mechanism to see the room on the other side.

A lone candle burned on a desk, and Golden Spear was removing his armor.

Perfect, he could afford the wait, which was good, because the patrol was getting closer.

Mouse pulled back, running quickly to find some cover as he waited.

Given enough time, the captain would be unarmored and asleep. There was hardly a better target.

All he had to do in the meantime was not be noticed, and that was something Mouse was good at.

There was a soft click as the heavy lock was slowly disengaged, and a figure quickly slipped into the room. A single desk met him along with a comfortable-looking bed, where the figure of Golden Shield slept peacefully.

The figure said nothing, and hardly made a sound as he close the door behind him.

He slid up to the sleeping captain in his bed, and stared down at the Captain.

He still slept.

Mouse drew his knife, and the curved blade gleamed in the darkness.

And then the blade dropped into the Captain’s throat.

His eyes snapped open, and he glared up at Mouse as though he were an avatar of death.

“This is for the innocents,” he growled.

The captain grasped at the knife, trying desperately to breathe.

Mouse watched.

He struggled, gaping, eyes wildly darting across the room as he tried to figure out why.

Mouse said nothing.

And as he watched the guard die, another one of the heartless monsters that beat him every day of his childhood, Mouse felt nothing.

Chapter 17

Another week had passed, as had another week of training. Demon was a vicious teacher, but effective, and Mouse was quickly picking up what he taught.

Mouse dragged his blade across dummy, splitting the leather beneath before he dared a kick at his false opponent’s body. His hooves slammed into the wood, canvas, padding, and leather with a thud, and Mouse dared a glance at his teacher.

Demon answered with a slap from the flat of his longsword. “Keep your attention on the enemy, Ghost. Do not look away.”

Mouse bit his lip and bore through the pain, but he managed a smile now that he knew that his teacher approved of using his body as well as his blade.

Mouse continued his assault, remembering to draw his blade against his opponent’s “flesh,” as Demon had taught him. The earth pony in his dark red coat watched on for a few minutes longer before he spoke. “That's enough, Ghost.”

Mouse stopped, continuing to hold his blades ready.

“I’ve broken your worst habits, and your form is decent enough, it is time for you to take a greater challenge than wood and straw. Stand ready, and try to land a blow on me, for the glory of the Void.”

Mouse blinked as Demon slipped into a stance, the long-handled blade resting in his mouth. Still confused, Mouse hesitated a second, and that was far too long for Demon.

He launched forward, blade swinging as the handle of his sword spun around Demon’s muzzle, attacking Mouse on the left side rather than the right. The blow, now unexpected in both timing and direction, bit into Mouse's side and drew blood.

Roused from his daze, and now fearing for his life, Mouse swung into action. His small, crescent blades swung from both sides at the larger pony. Demon merely leapt back, almost lazily stepping out of the way.

Mouse continued to apply pressure, slashing at Demon, who had simply transformed into a blur of speed and steel. Mouse would make quick strikes at the pony’s flesh, only for Demon to disappear under the blade, leaving the moon-shaped knife to slice at nothing but air.

It quickly became apparent to the novice assassin that he was outmatched. Perhaps even outmatched was a poor term. Demon did not attack, he didn't even try as the pair of blades chased him around the room. Only twice did his blades strike Demon’s own, and with both parries, Mouse saw the longsword come dangerously close to his neck, only to be pulled away at the last second.

Mouse had a very rapidly growing suspicion that if Demon had tried, he would be in pieces on the flagstones.

Another swipe at now-empty air, and Demon slapped him the flat of his blade. “You are looking to where I am, not where I will be.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mouse thought. “Of course! All I need to do is see the future.”

Mouse made another swipe, only for the quillons of Demon’s sword came down on them like a hammer. The dagger was ripped out of Mouse's magical grip, and Demon closed the distance between them, spinning through the air before landing on Mouse's back.

In the time it took to blink, the longsword was between Mouse's neck and the floor, and the smaller pony felt Demon's massive hoof on his back. The larger pony pressed, and Mouse felt his head slowly drop until his neck was pressed against the blade, before he was finally released.

“You could have done better, Ghost,” Demon grunted.

Mouse put a hoof to his throat, checking to see if it had been sliced against the razor-sharp sword blade. “Glad to have your vote of confidence.”

“You are decent,” Demon said. “Your form is primal, but your hoofwork is good, but you will always be mediocre if you cannot learn how to read your opponent. As you are, you can take a guard in a duel, and it will be hard fought for you if did not use the tricks I know you can perform. Yet, until you can learn to read your enemy's body, you will not be able to fight a great number without years of training. I can make you learn to be aware, but if you cannot be aware with the small things, then you have no hope of learning the larger things.”

Mouse nodded, half listening to the pony lecturing him.

Luckily, the lecture was cut short when a new voice filled the room. “Hey, Demon,” a unicorn mare said from a balcony. “Take a break with the swords, Oracle wants me to work on his spells.”

Demon looked up and shrugged. “Perhaps you’ll make him a better agent for the Void than I,” he said simply.

As the unicorn mare with a ghostly blue coat walked down the stairs, she spent every step glaring at Mouse. Mouse met her stare, even as Demon walked away. She stared back, nearly growling as she closed the distance.

“Can I help you, Wraith?” Mouse asked.

Ever since he had arrived, the mare had been incredibly cold. She had barely spoken to him, and when she had it was with a terrible glare that would put off most stallions.

Wraith continued to glare, leaving Mouse’s question hanging in the air, before she finally asked her own question. “Who sent you?”

“What?” Mouse asked, confused.

“Who sent you here? Who told you about us?”

Mouse blinked. “Oracle approached me.”

“But did he? Oracle’s losing his mind. He could have been manipulated. He could have been driven to you. You could be here to split us apart.”

Mouse blinked. “That’s...I’ve lived next to some truly insane inmates, but that is some proper crazy right there.”

“Who sent you, and who do you work for?”

“You’re paranoid,” Mouse said.

“And that’s why I’m still alive, so what’s your point?”

Mouse sighed. “Did you come here just to interrogate me?”

“Sadly not, I have to treat you like ‘family’ until I can proof you’re out to get us,” she growled. “So you’re going to get some magic lessons.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll go to Ghoul if I want to learn magic,” Mouse said.

Wraith laughed. “Ghoul? Ghoul’s too caught up in his ‘art’ to care about magic. All he cares for is the disguise and deception, magic is secondary to him. He doesn’t kill with magic, I do. That’s why you’re going to learn from me.”

“Great.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she growled, before walking up next to a table. “So I’m going to assume you know basically no magic beyond telekinesis.”

“I know a lockpicking spell and an invisibility spell,” Mouse said.

“And you must have misheard me, because I told you I’m going to assume that you’re completely incompetent.”

Mouse stared at her.

She glared back.

He sighed. “Fine.”

The magic lessons were actually incredibly useful, but Mouse didn’t dare say that. He would not give that woman even the slightest hint of satisfaction.

Wraith made an excellent teacher, or at least, had short bursts of being a great teacher, followed by massive interludes of being a paranoid hack that was trying to prove that he was some kind of infiltrator here to dismantle this little conclave of assassins piece by piece.

Despite her semi-coherent rants, an actually brilliant mind shone through in her teaching. In just a few lessons, Mouse control had improved by no small amount, and already he was sure that he could cast his invisibility spell more frequently and faster than ever before.

With her training, Mouse was sure he could reliably cast it three times before magical exhaustion robbed him of his control.

Well, okay, maybe three times. On a good day. It was theoretically possible.

Still, he could remain completely unseen for nearly half an hour, and that was nothing to scoff at.

The only downside was that he had to work with Wraith. Her paranoia made the lessons tedious, as each time she began, she needed to debate with herself on what she would tell him, and what she wouldn't. What lessons she did provide felt as if they were missing pieces, and she frequently left him alone to “practice.”

Practice, of course, translated more accurately to “figure it out on your own,” which was probably Wraith’s attempt at hindering him if he actually was some kind of traitor.

It must have eaten her up inside when he did figure it out, though.

He sat in front of a small desk, working on the latest tidbits of magical theory, when a voice spoke out behind him. “The living ghost consumes knowledge, slaying parchment with pen and bleeding with ink.”

Mouse turned to see Oracle standing over his shoulder, and reading the page he was working on. “Oracle to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The paper bell tolls, another life must be claimed.”

“And I’m the one to carry the sentence?” Mouse asked.

Oracle grinned.

Mouse sighed. “Alright, what’s the job?”

“Come to my office, I will tell you what must come to pass,” the earth pony said, before slipping away into the darkness of the sanctuary.

Pushing himself up, Mouse turned and began the short trip over to Oracle's office, which was little more than an alcove With a shrine to the strange mish-mash creature that everyone called the Void.

Why the great and powerful Void was represented by that, Mouse would never know.

As he stepped into Oracle's alcove, Mouse was surprised to see Ghoul waiting for him, grinning at the sight of his empty flank.

Of all the members of this little clique of assassins, Ghoul was the member that made Mouse the most uncomfortable. Demon was intimidating, Phantom was distant, Specter was outright flippant, and Wraith was annoying, but Ghoul was unnerving. Every look the smiling unicorn sent Mouse's way was so oddly predatory and eerily ecstatic that it took every ounce of his courage not to run from the room.

“Hello, my little canvas,” Ghoul cooed as he saw Mouse walk through the door.

Every ounce of courage.

“Welcome, Ghost,” Oracle said with a sudden burst of lucidity.

“What do you need me to do?” Mouse asked.

“A noble must die, in the city of Manehatten,” Oracle explained. “You will be joining our employer, Baron Jet, as a uniconian noble, that sadly will not be arriving.”

“Even after he received his invitation, nonetheless,” Ghoul chuckled.

“Okay…” Mouse began. “So I’m imitating this noble? I’ll have to disguise myself?”

“That’s where Ghoul comes in,” Oracle said, turning to the unicorn.

Ghoul smiled. “While I may not have the skill in bloodshed as our brothers,” he said, grinning all the while, “I have a talent that is equally if not more important. I am a master of the art of disguise.”

Mouse nodded, listening while trying to ignore the discomfort that was growing every second he spent staring at the unicorn.

“I can transform you,” Ghoul said. “Coat, eye color, I can change them all with a touch of magic that will last days through water, sleep, wind and dust. I could make you anypony with just one flaw.”

Flaw? If it's flawed then why is it so great?

“By magics that I don't truly understand, I cannot change a Cutie Mark.”

Mouse blinked, before checking his own flank. Ghoul’s fascination was beginning to make sense.

“At best, I can disguise a Cutie Mark, but it takes many hours, and the shape remains. You, however, are in a very special position, my dear canvas.”

Ghoul spun in his seat and threw back his head, staring upside down at Mouse like a lovesick schoolgirl. “With you, it changes. No more hiding skulls or daggers, no longer must I change vials of poisons into potions. My suffering has finally come to an end. At last I have freedom!”

Mouse blinked, before he turned to Oracle.

The pale earth pony shrugged. “He has been waiting for you for a long time.”

Ghoul smiled wider. “You have no idea.”

“Okay…” Mouse said, “so how do I do this?”

“Leave that to me, my dear easel. Leave that to me.”

For the next week, Mouse was taught how to act. Hold your glass like so, eat like this, say that, but not this, do this but not that. Mouse trudged through the dizzying instructions, trying to form a proper image of a unicornian noble in the short time he had, while Ghoul perfected his new appearance.

The training was grueling, with Ghoul delivering a slap for every word uttered with the incorrect inflection or every step with a poor posture. It continued on into the evening, where Ghoul would watch him eat, and check and recheck his form and manners.

Each correction was reinforced with a ringing slap, and Mouse had to endure it all until his hooves and flank were red through his fur.

Specter and Phantom offered their condolences.

Slap after slap, Mouse endured his pain and correction, until finally, finally, it was time.

It was still in the wee hours of the morning when Mouse was pushed from his bed and forced to his hooves. Oracle and Ghoul stood before him, staring down at him before pulling him to his hooves. “We have no more time, Ghost,” Oracle said. “You must go.”

“You’re not ready,” Ghoul said, as he prepared his disguise spell, “hopefully the disguise will make the difference for you.”

Before he knew it, the ring of magic rang in his ears, and a warmth spread out across his entire body. A bright, white light stabbed into his eyes, and once he blinked it away, he was surprised to find himself a yellow-coated unicorn with a scroll on his flank.

Ghoul grinned at the sight. “It’s perfect, just like I had always dreamed.”

“Another time,” Oracle said, before he handed Mouse one of the Shadowgate keys. “You can wait no longer, Baron Jet is waiting for you on the other side of the gate. You must go now.”

Mouse was barely awake, and hardly registered the fact that he was being shoved out of the room.

“You know your target, yes?” Oracle asked.

“Lord Emerald,” Mouse muttered.

“Good, all hail the Void!”

And that was the last thing Oracle said to him before he was shoved thought the Shadowgate.

He fell and tumbled through the darkness of the gate, crossing hundreds of miles in seconds, before he was dropped onto hard, cobblestone street.

He groaned, pain flooding his face as he slowly picked himself up.

“So you’re the one Oracle sent,” a new voice said.

Mouse looked up to see a unicorn, both taller and wider than he ever was, with a coat that was as dark as his natural color. The pony’s eye were narrow and hard, he did not smile, and he did not grin.

“Baron Jet, I presume?” Mouse asked.

“Who else?”

Picking himself up, Mouse dusted off his new, yellow coat. “Yes, I’m the one,” he said.

“You’ve done much to inspire confidence, I must say,” the Baron said.

Mouse looked down at the cobblestones where he landed, and sent a scowl back at the Baron. “I’m not used to traveling by gate, yet, but I assure you I know what I’m doing when it comes to wetwork.”

“Unfortunately, I must take your word for it,” Baron Jet replied. “Now come, Lord Scroll, we have a ball to get to.”

Standing, Mouse, under the guise of Lord Topaz Scroll, followed after the Baron and his guards.

Mouse began to walk in stride, following along with the Baron and his men, as he took in his surroundings. Like Baltimare, Manehatten was filled with stone buildings that spoke of permanent settlers taking residence along the river. Fishing poles and trading ships sat in the water, raising and falling as the waves of the sea crashed into the brackish water. The salt air was a pleasant scent, and the call of seagulls was like an old friend calling his name.

After a quick look at his surroundings, he was forced to ignore them. A noble could not busy himself with the lesser ponies about him. He had to keep his eyes forward, on the mansion that they were heading to.

It stood on a short hill, surrounded by a massive wrought iron fence. Ponies milled about through the yard, and music wafted in the air above them down the hill. Honestly, Emerald’s home was certainly opulent, which only made sense considering what he knew about his target. It was nice, however to see a noble sharing for once.

“Are you ready?” Baron Jet asked, glancing over at Mouse with a raised eyebrow.

“But of course, my lord,” Mouse answered as he tried to act the part he looked. “I am always ready.”

“I’m sure,” the Baron replied. “Just remember, this act will strengthen Unicornia’s position, and with proper knights patrolling the land, us unicorns can truly act without limitation.”

Mouse blinked, but said nothing. He didn't have time to question his employer, and what his plans were.

But he had to admit he didn't like it.

He kept walking forward, his mind retracing Oracle's instructions. Lord Emerald was an arms dealer, one who sold magical weapons and gems to Equestria and Unicornia. This wasn't a problem, since neither country was fighting each other yet. No, the problem was that the Baron discovered that Emerald was also selling to Pegasopolis and Earthonia. Selling to all sides, peace or no, was frowned upon by the Baron, and that was why he wanted Emerald dead.

His job was to sneak into the party, get Emerald alone, and dispose of him by a poison that was only manufactured in Earthonia. If the poison can't work for whatever reason, then Emerald had to die in the open so as not to implicate the Baron.

It would be relatively straightforward, especially if he can catch the Lord unaware. Now if only—was the Baron staring at him?

He turned to Baron Jet, who stared at him with his his squinting, angry eyes. “Oracle hasn’t told you, has he?”

“No, not really.”

“Yet you’ve dedicated yourself to this cause?” the Baron asked.

“I didn’t have much choice,” Mouse replied.

The Baron continued to stare, before he finally spoke again. “Interesting.”

With that final word between them, they walked into the yard.

The party was agony.

Every second of it was spent watching himself, trying desperately to keep his cover as he spoke about endless, meaningless dribble to a hundred different nobles. Every time he took a step, he felt a phantom slap and quickly corrected himself, almost automatically.

It was actually starting to hurt.

Between that and the absolute mindlessness of the conversation, Mouse was ready to kill somepony.

Luckily, that’s exactly why he was there.

It didn’t take long to figure out how to lure Lord Emerald away from the party. A promise of female company and some nicer, subtler narcotics was all it took to bring the unicorn who thought he was younger than he was to the upper rooms. A goblet was pressed into his hoof, and he took it eagerly.

It was no surprise that he drank deep, and was only a surprise to the lord when his throat began to constrict upon itself.

And as he stared into the eyes of the unicorn, the lord who betrayed both the old, and the new world, Mouse felt no pity.

Throwing the body into the commode to buy him a few minutes—or hours, depending on how often Emerald partook—Mouse quickly made his way back to the party. He was back to the yard and in amidst the partygoers within seconds, and before long, he was back next to the Baron, enjoying a drink courtesy of their gracious, but dead host.

The Baron sent him a glare. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of something?”

“Already taken care of, Lord Jet,” Mouse answered with a smile.

“Already?”

Mouse nodded, and secured himself a drink. “Yes, It’s done, and they won’t find him for quite some time, I’m afraid.”

Baron Jet nodded. “I’m impressed, you’ve done well.”

“I’m glad to have pleased you, sir,” Mouse replied.

“No, you have done more than that, you have done much more than that, good sir. Much more than that.”

“Oh? And what have I done?”

“You’ve earned the right to know what I’m doing.”

“Everything you do is just a bit easier, more instinctive, more satisfying. It is as though you had suddenly developed keen senses and instincts.”

Chapter 18

As they stepped into Baron Jet’s carriage, Mouse was silent. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe boredom, but Mouse wanted to hear what the Baron had to say.

The larger, older unicorn waited until his servants shut the door before he began. “Trust me when I say I hold only the highest regard for this country. To be founded in the middle of our darkest winter, and to strike out against hundreds of years of grudges and pain to make a new land where ponies can live in harmony, regardless of tribe, is incredibly noble, and takes strength unlike any I have seen in my own lifetime. Unfortunately, the problem Unicornia faces when dealing with such a new player on the board is greater than the opportunities it presents.”

The carriage began to pull away, leaving the mansion after the baron’s sudden “faintness” tore him from the party.

“Tell me, assassin, are you familiar with the Golden Revolutionaries?”

“I’ve heard the name before,” Mouse replied.

Jet smiled. “Well, Equestria’s dear Princess Platinum abdicated the Unicornian throne, as you might expect, and left succession in the hooves of her younger sister, Princess Gold. However, before her coronation, the youngest, Princess Silver managed to stage a coup, and took the throne for herself while exiling the elder.”

The Baron produced a set of goblets, and a bottle from a container beneath the seat. “Wine? It's an earth pony make, grown in the Sunkiss Valley Vineyard, an excellent year, at that.”

Mouse slowly took one of the goblets and waited to be poured a glass. “If you would be so kind.”

The Baron nodded, pleased, before he poured both glasses. “Now Queen Silver will say it was the manifestation of divine-right that allowed her to take the throne once her father passed away. Of course, anyone that wanted to keep their head didn't mention the fact that the general became her consort perhaps faster than most others would have deemed proper, but that is neither here nor there. Suffice to say that Silver has not been good for the kingdom at large, and the Golden Revolutionaries hope that restoring the rightful heiress would likewise restore the kingdom.”

The Baron sipped his wine, and motioned for Mouse to do the same. Mouse obeyed, listening as the Baron sighed. “Wonderful, isn't it? Very full, with just the faintest nose to it. Almost goes down as easy as water.”

Mouse agreed, and took another drink.

“Now, while I admire their goal, their methods are...short-sighted. They would destroy their own lands to put Gold back on the throne. I seek something less destructive. I seek to bring Equestria into the fold, if you will. A place where all three ponies are working together is a powerhouse for any country. Why, with Equestria at Unicornia’s side, Queen Gold could easily bring Earthonia to bow, simply because they won't be able to keep the prices on their food so high. After Earthonia, then Pegasopolis would fall soon after that.”

Mouse nodded. Uniting the new and old worlds was a thought.

“Of course, before that can happen, Equestria needs to be properly...groomed.”

Mouse took another drink.

“You see, while I agree that the tribes should live together, many in Unicornia would see this as a personal insult, unless unicorns received...preferential treatment.

“This, unfortunately, means that the founders must be dealt with. Their vision for an equal Equestria is dangerous to a proper alliance between Unicornia, and the freedom and strength of will of these six mares could threaten Queen Gold’s chances of support here more than anything else.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Mouse asked.

“So you can understand the importance of my goals. I am not here to dismantle this country brick by brick, nor am I here to destroy whatever life you choose to live when you have served my purposes. I simply want to shape this country so that it may better survive. I hope to make Equestria what it was meant to be, a colony of Unicornia, from which the rightful Queen can gain influence.”

Mouse nodded. There was some sense to be made here.

“All I need to do is set up a proper nobility, purge the undesirables to a proper working position, and get rid of the other five mares that act as this country’s leaders.”

“The other five?” Mouse asked aloud.

The Baron smiled. “You don't think that Clover the Clever really died from illness, did you?” He asked with a laugh. “True, they were supposed to target Platinum, but I was beginning to doubt if she would be willing to negotiate anyway.”

Mouse said nothing.

“In any case, you’re someone that knows how to get a job done, and now that you know what that job is, then I expect you to get it done. Do we understand each other?”

Mouse nodded. “We do.”

The carriage came to a stop, and the Baron adjusted himself on his seat.

“Good, I’ll call upon you again. For now, we have reached your stop, and my last instruction is only this: tell Oracle that I’m disappointed that he decided to keep you in the dark. It doesn't speak well of him.”

The door opened, and Mouse stepped out of the carriage.

“Farewell, Ghost is it?” The Baron called. “Yes, farewell, we will speak again soon.”

The driver shut the door, and quickly climbed up to his seat before the team of guards that was now pulling the carriage took it and the Baron away.

And Mouse watched them go, even as he began to pull his shadowkey from his bag.

“Nutcase…” he muttered before he stepped away back to Tall Tale.

The moment he got back, Mouse was torn between Demon and Wraith for this training and torture/interrogation. The next few weeks were back-to-back fighting and spells. His body was beaten and his mind was taxed to the point where either of them would snap under the pressure.

But just when Mouse thought he couldn't take it anymore, salvation finally came to him. Somepony else had to die, and Mouse was going to be the one to deal the blow.

This job was simple, and straightforward. All he had to do was meet a pegasus on the road, and challenge him to a duel. Amy other details went over his strained head, and his weakened body was too frail to keep him awake through the whole briefing.

After falling asleep on his hooves for the third time, Oracle finally dismissed him for sleep. Mouse didn't remember falling into his own bed, much less finally getting to his room, all he knew was that he would finally have a break.

“Are you ready this time, Ghost?” Oracle asked him.

Mouse nodded, now fully awake after a day and a half or rest.

“Your target is a pegasus, one of Hurricane’s Hundred, if that means anything to you.”

It did, and Mouse was starting to wonder if this job was as simple as he first thought.

“He will be traveling with an entourage up to Canterlot in one month, and your job is to kill him before he gets there,” Oracle explained as he traced his hoof over the cover of the Tome. “Destiny says that now he must die, so it is written, and so it shall be.”

“A month? Why tell me now?”

“You will need the time. Just let me explain.”

Mouse nodded, still not as sure in himself as he thought he would be.

“The way to kill him with greatest ease is to kill him in a duel, his entourage will be forced to watch quietly as you perform your holy duty, and he cannot rely on his stealth, nor can he run away without breaking his honor.”

Mouse nodded. “Very well. I understand why he will fight with honor, but I’m still wondering why I need to.”

“You will be disguised as a local unicorn noble, and you are to challenge him openly, and you are going to cheat.”

“Cheat? We're framing him then?”

Oracle nodded. “Don't make it obvious until after your target is dead. If somepony in the entourage catches you, they will count the duel illegitimate and attack. You want them to swear vengeance against the noble instead of carrying out justice against you.”

Mouse nodded. Not being beaten to death sounded preferable.

“Do this, and the pegasi shall become uncertain in their place here, and Hurricane will have to speak out and expose himself.”

“We're going after Hurricane? Right after this?”

“No, this is but the clatter of stones before a rockslide,” Oracle replied, his madness slipping into his tone. “This is a destiny beneath you, Nail. Though it too depends on the lack.”

Mouse was quickly losing him. “Alright, so shall I go and see Ghoul then?”

“Dust we are! Ghosts in history! All ponies are but steps for those who come after. But are we climbing? And what to?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said simply before rushing away out if Oracle's office.

“Dust upon dust! Bones on bones, and no will between them!”

“That's very nice, Oracle!” he said before he ran out of earshot of the pony’s ravings. When he finally had a moment’s peace, he sighed. “I’m working for a madpony, who works for a mad pony…”

After a very short time bemoaning his situation, Mouse made his way to Ghoul’s workshop. When he first arrived, Mouse had made it a point to avoid anything called a “workshop.” Just the thought of it brought images of torture chambers, or grisly dissection rooms, and while living in prison gave him a stronger stomach than most, he really didn’t want to test it against the twisted mind of an assassin.

Imagine his surprise then, when he found in filled with clothes. Petticoats, dresses, overcoats, vests, hats, armor, anything that could be used in a disguise was here. Mouse himself had worn a vest from here when he went up to meet with Baron Jet just a few weeks ago.

Ghoul looked up from his work, the seam of a new jacket and smile. “Ah, hello, my canvas, what can I do for you today?”

“I need to disguise myself as a noble,” the smaller unicorn replied.

“Ah! The dueling job, is it?” Ghoul asked with a smile.

Mouse nodded.

Ghoul laughed, before he pulled a journal from his desk and flipped it open. “Yes, yes, you must be disguised as Lord Shining Shield, of the Shield family,” he said, reading aloud.

“That sounds right,” Mouse said.

“Good, good,” Ghoul said, before shutting the book. “Well then, I think we need to Specter in here.”

“Specter? Why?” Mouse asked.

Ghoul smiled. “Let’s just say she’s invested.”

“Who?” the pegasus asked as she glared at Mouse from across the table.

“I’m supposed to be Lord Shining Shield.”

“You’re framing Shining Shield? Of the Shield noble house?” she asked.

Mouse nodded. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

She set the tankard that was in her hoof aside, before she stood. She stared Mouse in the eye, staring into his soul as she regarded him. “No, you’re not taking the job.”

“What?”

“I’m taking the job,” she growled.

“I...I don’t know if you can.”

“Ghost, you don’t get it,” she said. “If anything’s going to lead to Shield’s death, it’s me. So you’re going to walk up to Oracle’s room, and you’re going to tell him you can’t help.”

Mouse blinked.

She groaned, before she leapt up over the table. “Nevermind, I’ll do it.”

Mouse watched her go, flying past up to Oracle’s office, still blinking and confused as to what actually just happened. He waited a moment or two before he heard shouting.

“No! It’s my job! I laid claim to it, I always have!” That was Spectre’s voice.

A moment of silence.

“You knew! You knew and you lied to me!” She yelled again.

Another break.

“I can’t believe you!”

A second passed.

“What do you mean by that?”

Another pause.

“Fine!”

She leapt out of the office, and down to the dining room. She landed hard, glaring at Mouse all the while. “Fine. Now listen well, because I’m not going to repeat this, alright?”

“You got it,” he agreed.

“Lord Shield takes his tea cold, because he believes it’s good for the humors. He insists that warm liquids damage the lungs, and thus his phlegm. Understanding the humors is the first step to understanding Lord Shield.”

“The humors?”

“It’s a bunch of junk,” Specter replied. “But you’re going to learn it.”

Mouse nodded. At this point, she was the last pony he wanted to argue with.

Specter led Mouse through all the hoops. Injest blood during the fight to increase your blood, to become angrier. Do everything you can to avoid being hit so as not to lose any. Speak like so, stand like this, and so on.

She told him everything there was to know about the stallion, as well as more than he needed to know. She told him of the limp he had as a child, his fascination with the sky, his need to step over a threshold when he walked into a house, everything.

And with every word, she growled through a mug of mead. By the time noon came around, she was thoroughly drunk, slurring her words and getting angrier with ever sip.

“And...and the shardin’ shtallion, he...he-hesh doesh this thing wif hish shardin’ hooves where he clacksh tem together fer good luck in tha mornin’…”

“How do you know all this?” Mouse asked, hoping that the change of subject would give him a chance to decipher the latest string of words.

“‘Cause the sarder is my sardin’ father!” She growled.

“Wait, what?” Mouse asked.

“Shardin’ Dad, being a shardin’ idiot!” She yelled, kicking over a chair.

Mouse blinked.

“And you!” she growled, pointing at the bewildered pony. “You’re going to shardin’ get him killed by shardin’ framin’ ‘im!”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn't know…” Beyond that, he didn't know unicorn’s could give birth to pegasi.

“Ish not fair!” She roared, before stumbling down to her hooves. “I’m that one thash shupposhed to kill him!”

“Y-you what?”

“I’m shupposhed to kill the sharder…” she slurred. “He'sh always hated that fact that I’m a pegershus like Mom...he wanted unicorn babiesh, but I wash that black sheep.”

Mouse blinked. “You know, Specter, I think that's enough for today…”

“Merried a pegershus and had a pegershus kid. What a shurprish, Dad!”

“Let's get you to bed,” Mouse said, slowly approaching the drunk assassin.

“Shturdy wash alwaysh the favorite. Shturdy’s a unicorn, so he’sh gonna gonna get the family bushinessh.”

Mouse slowly picked her up, letting her lean on him before he began to lead her away.

“He’sh gonna get everyfing...and what does Gleamin’ get? ‘You’sh get to be a guard, Gleamin’! You’sh get to protec yer younger, better, unicorn brother.’ I hate ‘em sho much.”

“C’mon, Specter, why don't we get you to your room?”

“I hate ‘em all. They're all shtupid… all of ‘em. They all hate me…”

“C’mon,” Mouse repeated, guiding the rantig, drunken mare.

“I wanna kill ‘em. I wanna show ‘em that he should picked me. I’m gonna kill ‘em all. ‘Shpecially Dad…”

Mouse pulled the mare to her bedroom, and quickly put her to bed. She groaned, moaned, and whined as Mouse got her in her cot, and threw the blankets and furs over her, but be was patient with her, and finally got her ready for a nap.

“Thanksh, Ghosht. You're a good shtallion. No matter...no matter what Wraif shez.”

Mouse nodded, and began to wake away.

“‘Ey, Ghosht?” Spectre called.

“Yes?”

“Don't get Dad killed. I love him too much…”

Mouse nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

Spectre slept until the next morning, which gave him some time to practice his new disguise. He walked the way Specter told him to, he spoke the she told him to, and he tried to use the rapier that she insisted her father would use.

He spun the long, slender blade, feeling the weight of it in his magical grasp. He whipped it through the air, listening to it whip and snap around him.

He brought the blade up, and watched as the candle light glance across the blade, before sheathing it.

Yes. It was official.

He had no idea what he was doing.

The reach on the new weapon was nice, but it seemed too frail to parry or slice with, and he wasn’t quite trained to attack with thrusts all the time.

This meant, of course, that he was going to need Demon.

With a sigh, and a moment of preparation for the physical abuse he was about recieve, Mouse made his way down to the training ground where the large earth pony roamed like a prowling lion.

Down the stairs, carrying the rapier, all the way to the small alcove where the training dummies lived, and the sound of blows rang up through the air.

Turning the corner, Mouse was surprised to see Spectre there, practicing with her bow and making her shots on the targets across the room. Arrows filled the eyes, the hearts, and livers of the targets, and she continued to make her shots, pinning her fury to the dummies with each shot.

Demon worked nearby, oiling his blades before testing their edge with the light, but never once speaking up as Spectre filled his targets with holes.

The earth pony looked up. “Can I help you, brother?” Demon asked.

“I need training with this blade,” Mouse replied.

Spectre fired another arrow into the target's head, between the eyes.

Demon nodded. “I will do what I can. The rapier was never my specialty. I find a removed head is far more effective at killing a pony than forcing him to bleed all over the floor.”

Spectre fired again.

“Once my targets become available, I will show you how to use it.”

“I will gladly take the break,” Mouse said.

Spectre shot again. “I will be a while,” she growled, before firing again.

Demon sighed. “I will take lunch then. Let me know when you’re done.”

Spectre nodded, and let fly.

Demon took his leave, leaving Mouse, his rapier, and Spectre and her targets.

She fired again, nailing an arrow to a target. “What did I tell you?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” Mouse asked.

“I drank perhaps a little too much, I always do when Lord Shield is involved. I’m sure I must have said something. What did I say?”

“You told me what he is to you,” Mouse answered.

She pinned another arrow to the dummy.

“Then you know I want to kill him,” she said.

“I do,” He answered.

“Do you know what you need to do, then?” she asked.

“You need me to warn him?”

“I need him alive. I need to kill him myself.”

Mouse nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

The month had passed, and the time was now. Shining Shield, or Mouse as Shining Shield, had left Canterlot not five days ago, and had made all haste down the southern road where his target was traveling.

He toyed with the rapier at his side, and watched with a growing apprehension at the approaching small army that Oracle had called an entourage.

Once they were close enough, he leapt out from behind a rock, and delivered his speech about his damaged honor, and necessary recompense.

The old pegasus, Steel Plume, agreed to a duel, and in that moment sealed his fate.

Mouse did everything he could to get the first blow in, and the second the long, thin blade pierced his hide, the paralyzing poison went to work. In minutes, Mouse went from doing everything he could to dodge and duck, and leap out of the way to practically dancing around the older stallion.

Before long, Steel was dead, filled with so many holes he could be mistaken for a sponge. Then it was just a matter of “accidentally” dropping the vial, and running for the trees.

A quick invisibility spell later, and Mouse was walking back out of the trees without anyone of them the wiser. The word easy didn't even do it justice. Why, he could have probably even taken the old pegasus on without the poison.

Okay, probably not. In fact it was more likely that he’d be bisected right about know if it weren't for the little vial of paralysis, but it was a fun thought.

Still, Mouse had a more important job to do.

Mouse ran, trying his best to dispel the disguise that sat on him, and heading back north for Canterlot. He ran until he shrugged the spell off, then slowed as he walked toward a house that stood alone on a single hill.

Shining Shield sat at his desk, hunched over a scrap of parchment that his quill scratched into as he tried to balance the cost of a new magical item.

The counters on his abacus clacked back and forth, before he finally had an answer. With a faint smile, he wrote down the final cost, before deciding on a 25% markup.

“You need to leave.”

Shining nearly leapt out of his skin at the sound of the voice, and he looked up to see a figure in the corner of his office. He blinked, looking to the door, which sat open, but silent.

He hadn't heard a sound.

“I-I will not be threatened in my own home,” Lord Shield replied, trying to reach for his rapier.

“I am not threatening you. I’m warning you.”

Shining felt the magically-attuned handle in his grip, and slowly began to pull his sword close. “Warning? Warning against what? Who sent you?”

“Your daughter.”

The room fell silent.

“M-my daughter? Gleaming? She's-she’s alive?” The rapier clattered to the floor, and Shining took a single, shaking step forward. “Where? Where is she?”

Mouse shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? No, no, you don’t understand. You need to tell me. I will pay you. I will give you twice your weight in gold! Do you like the house? It’s yours! Please! I need you to tell me where she is.”

“You need to listen to her warning. You have been framed for murder. You must leave.”

“You need to tell her! You need to tell her we need her to come home! Please! Anything!” the lord asked, falling to his knees. “Please! Tell her!”

“You and your family must go into hiding,” Mouse warned.

“Tell her she can have anything! Anything! I’ll give her whatever it takes to get her back, please!”

“Leave. She will find you when she is ready,” Mouse said, making his way toward the window.

“Tell her I miss her! I miss her more than anything, please! Please! Please let her know I love her.”

Mouse waited a moment, staring out into the night sky beyond the window.

“She knows.”

And with his duty done, he leapt out, into the darkness.

Chapter 19

Mouse had a problem he’d never thought he’d ever get the chance to experience.

He didn't know what to do with his money.

Never in his life did he ever think that he’d be able to gather more than a decade’s worth of pay in a few months, much less what he’d do with it.

The thought of renting Tall Tale’s best bed for a night at the Giant’s Cradle inn did have a certain appeal to it, but with winter getting deeper every day, it took little more than stepping outside the haunted door to change his mind. The biting wind tore through his heavy wool cloak, and stung his eyes till he feared they would freeze open. What's more, according to Demon, the path back down to the town was icy, and now twice as treacherous as it was coming up.

With Tall Tale basically closed off to him by the Winter’s harsh opening, his mind began to wander to the Shadowgates, and the possible destinations available to him.

He stood before the gates, observing the symbols over the doors, trying to discern their meaning. The three crowns were Canterlot, he knew that well enough, and the diamond mark was apparently the island outside of Manehatten.

The other doors were a bit of a mystery to him. One had a mark that looked exactly like a horseshoe, another was an arrow pointing south, the third mystery door was a strange bell-shape, while the fourth was a triangle with an open side. Beyond that, Mouse didn’t have a clue as to where they took him.

He sat there, staring up at the monoliths of darkness, trying to decipher their secret code when a voice called out to him.

“The shadows hide answers, Ghost, they do not offer them.”

Mouse was almost expecting Oracle, and he smirked as he turned back to the old earth pony. “You didn’t startle me this time.”

“To not be startled is one thing. To not be unnerved is another.”

Mouse didn't responded to that.

“The time has come again, another soul is destined to be sent to the void’s open maw,” Oracle said, before nodding towards his office. “Come.”

Mouse obeyed, following the pale pony up to his office, where the desk, and the Tome waited for him. Oracle quickly took a seat, and assumed his professional voice. “Do you know what a Runecaster is, Ghost?” he asked.

Mouse shook his head.

“Pegasi and Unicorns are not the only ones that can reach into the aether,” Oracle explained. “Earth ponies could also access magic, but through a much different means.”

An image of a young earth pony with a necklace of stones popped into Mouse's mind.

“By carving runes into rocks and bone, we too could manipulate the flow of mana, but at a much greater cost than either the cloudwalkers or the mountain sorcerers. The runes needed a source of power to run, and leeched off of the life around them to hold power.”

Another image of a single stone, surrounded by dead grass in a moonlit glade struck Mouse again.

“Only Earth ponies, then, with their unique, innate ability to cultivate the earth around them can use this magic without turning the land around them completely barren. Your mission, then, is to kill Stoneheart, a Runecaster that lives in the foothills East of Vanhoover.”

Mouse was silent.

“Do you understand?” Oracle asked.

Mouse nodded.

“Excellent, then kill the witch and make some money.”

“Actually,” Mouse began, “I’ve been meaning to ask something?”

“More questions the darkness cannot answer?” Oracle asked, his insanity dripping into the conversation at an increasingly quick rate.

“I have money now, but no way to spend it.”

Oracle raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, do I ask you to get something for me or…?”

“You haven’t gone to a shop?” Oracle asked.

Mouse blinked.

“You...you don’t need to go straight there and come straight back. You can take some time.”

Mouse said nothing.

Instead, he stood up, and walked out of the office.

He walked back in a moment later. “Which Shadowgate is Vanhoover?”

“The triangle, the open bay, rushing to the sea of the moon.”

“Right, thanks.”

Vanhoover was cold.

A great pine forest filled with snow hung just out of the light’s reach of the town, like a massive winter wolf prowling around unsuspecting ponies around a campfire.

Beyond the woods stood the great, northern mountains, massive, snow-covered sentinels of stone, guarding the town from whatever lay beyond them. A bitter, biting wind wafted down from the peaks, making the winter feel all the deeper and all the colder.

To the west, sat the calm North Luna Sea, named after the goddess of the moon, reflected its namesake with almost mirror-like clarity, sparkling under the night sky. The brilliant, cool sea crashed softly against the long, sloping beaches of Vanhoover, where a small armada of fishing ships sat beached in the sand.

To the east sat the unicorn range. Those mountains, while not as tall were just as impassible, and just as cold. At the foot of the unicorn range sat the foothills that Mouse had to scour for his latest target, as equally cold, but bare, and nearly glowing with the moonlight reflecting off the crystalline snow.

And finally, to the south, sat the only open road to the otherwise isolated town. Ghoul had warned him that the ponies in Vanhoover tended toward being the strong, independent kind, wary of strangers, and not terribly likely to open up to him. Mouse was mostly fine with that, honestly, and it was a strange reassurance that going to Vanhoover for a proper job wouldn’t have turned out well for him.

Walking out of the large, natural stone that was the other side of the Shadowgate, Mouse took a moment to take in the town and its surroundings before he made his way downtown, looking for a shop, and an inn.

He was rewarded with a tavern first.

The Unicorn’s Tail sat by the main street that bisected the town, and bore a sign with a proud, long tail attached to a mountain. Warm light spilled out from the windows and the crack beneath the door, and the sound of revelry echoed in the snow-covered street.

Mouse walked in, avoiding the singing crowd of ponies that were hogging the hearth. For the most part, they paid him no mind, keeping their focus in their songs and their drinks.

Walking past them, and stepping up to the bar, Mouse gave a curt nod to the bartender. The bartender nodded back, before Mouse dropped a silver bit on the table. “A drink, please.”

The bartender nodded, quickly sliding the silver coin towards his side of the counter, before offering him six copper pieces in change. A moment later, a frothing mug of ale was sat down in front of him, and Mouse eagerly took a deep drink.

It wasn’t terribly strong, but it was a passable drink, certainly.

“How much for a room?” Mouse asked, looking up from his drink.

“For the night? A gold bit.”

Mouse tossed the golden coin onto the counter, before following it with a handful of coppers. “You have some bread?”

“Baked this morning. They’re a bit cold now.”

“It’ll do.”

The bartender nodded, and ducked into the back room to get Mouse his meager meal, while his attention floated back to the carousing ponies behind him. They sang sea shanties between themselves, or retold deeds of village daring, while they gulped their drinks down as fast as they possibly could.

Mouse said nothing. He simply made himself aware of them, watching them while putting as little effort into it as possible. He didn’t need to know their names or their stories. He only needed to be aware of them. That was what Demon had taught him, stay aware. To ignore something is to invite it to kill you.

A moment later, and the bartender returned with a plate of surprisingly warm bread loaves. “I stuck these by the oven for a bit, it should help.”

Mouse nodded his thanks, and began to eat, when his ear twitched as a voice cut through his hearing.

“I shaw the Witch today, damned, sharding warlock,” one of the drunk ponies “whispered” to his friend.

“What about ‘em?” the other pony asked, equally as loud.

“Sheen ‘im move around a lot. Sheen him try and go ta tha Ca...ca...camucemorium.”

The second pony laughed, finding something incredibly humourous in the fact.

“Watsh sho funny?” the first asked, confused.

“Ish just...ish just…” the second one tried to answer through the laughs. “Ish just that you have a earth pony witch and a unicorn witch meeting each other at the shame time.”

The first stared at his friend for a second, before laughing himself, struck by the utter genius of that masterpiece of comedic gold.

Mouse stayed quiet, before he finished his bread, and retired for the night.

Wood’s Caducetorium was one of two magic shops in town, both with Lord Whitehoof as their patron. Specializing in wands, staffs, and other means of non-unicorn magic—because that’s apparently what caducetorium means—Oak Wood’s store was far more expensive than the already exorbitant magical armorer.

But, the armorer didn’t have a Runecaster visiting them, the Caducetorium did.

With all that in mind, Mouse decided he simply had no choice, and walked in.

“Hello, what can I do for you, sir?” A warm, wooden brown unicorn greeted.

“Perhaps, tell me, I have you seen an earth pony come by here? Short, green, mare?”

Oak furrowed his brow. “I can’t say I’m famili—”

“Goes by the name of Jade Stoneheart?”

Oak’s eyes went wide, before he immediately shifted his weight. His legs were bent, ready to pounce, and Mouse quickly read the untrained-fighting stance of the unicorn. “Who wants to know?”

“Hey, hey, hey now, calm down,” Mouse said, giving his best smile. “I don’t want to cause an issue. I’m looking to study under her.”

Oak’s squint became narrower, and his voice was almost a growl. “You? You want to study under Jade?”

Mouse kept going, trying to disarm the unicorn. “Look, look, I get it. What she does isn’t necessarily...approved of, but I need to learn.”

“And why does a unicorn need to learn an art that only earth ponies can use without killing everything around them?”

And that’s when Mouse let his smile fade. “I...I...I just need to, alright?”

“Why do you need to learn Runecasting?” He asked.

“Look, I just need to, okay?”

“No, that’s not okay,” Oak Wood said. “If you want to see her, then I need to know why.”

“Why? Are you her keeper or something?”

“She’s my friend,” he growled. “And there are enough ponies that want her dead for me to worry. So if you want to learn something as dangerous as Runecasting from her, then I need to know why before I even think about letting anypony near her.”

“I...I...I can’t do magic okay?”

Oak blinked. “What?”

“I can’t do magic. No talent for it, not even basic telekinesis,” Mouse said. “I just want a chance at...I just want to cast magic once.”

This was a bold-faced lie, of course, but considering that Mouse opened the shop door with his hooves certainly helped the lie, as did the long-handled earth pony shortsword at his side.

Oak blinked, unsure of how to process this new information. “I...have...have you thought of wands?”

“That’s far too much money,” Mouse said. “Besides, I heard they’re only good for a single cast.”

“No! No, no, no,” Oak quickly explained, trying to keep the pony that looked like he was moments away from bursting into tears. “No, wands recharge after some time, you don’t need to keep buying them.”

“But it’s not the same!” Mouse said, turning away from Oak’s gaze.

“It...no, you’re right, it’s not. But…” Oak began, fumbling over his words as he tried to process his customer. “I just...Runecasting is dangerous, far more dangerous than normal magic. It could kill you.”

“It’s my only chance!” Mouse said, tears welling in his eyes.

And Oak simply stared at this unicorn who couldn’t cast a spell, and finally answered him. “She’s east of here, past the pair of trees with one stump, and then head south along the brook. You’ll find her in the log hut.”

Mouse turned, still crying, but smiled as he stepped out of the shop.

Maybe he’d go to the armorer’s before he went to go visit little miss Jade.

The armorer was far less enthusiastic than Oak Wood was, but he did convince Mouse to buy a set of light, dark padded armor that was ever-so-slightly more resistant that he wore before. It meant he was a few hundred gold lighter, but it increased his chances of survival, so he wasn’t terribly worried.

Besides, he’d be paid enough in this one job to make it up.

He had to admit that he was, at first skeptical that layers of linen could offer much protection, and was surprised when the shop owner handed him a sword to test it. No matter how many times Mouse drew the blade across the gambeson, he could not cut deeper than a fraction of an inch.

Besides, considering the enchantment was to protect him against fire, it seemed like an excellent choice for fighting a Runecaster.

Drawing his cloak around his new, padded coat, Mouse slowly began to make his way through the snow and light trees of the eastern foothills.

The tall evergreens were widely spaced, but still an obvious presence at this point in the foothills, becoming less dense the further south they went.

Honestly, Mouse should have guessed she was in the northern hills, the trees offered more places to hide than the comparatively bare southern hills.

Keeping as close to the city as he could, Mouse slowly began to search for the landmarks that would take him straight to the Runecaster. As he walked, he used his magic to gently squeeze the handles of his magic-eating knives, just in case he had to protect himself from a stray lightning bolt.

He trod through the snow, leaving only footprints behind him, as he stood out like a massive shadow against the white sea that was the snow around him.

He trod along, heading directly East from the wand shop, until he finally saw it. Not fifty yards away, standing on the bank of a hill, was a pair of twin pines that had grown together into a single stump.

That was the tree, no doubt about it.

He was heading in the right direction.

Now all he had to do was head past them to the brook.

Snow began to drift down from above, creating a thin curtain of flakes that started to block his view. Mouse drew his cloak closer about him, sinking into the warmth of the dark wool.

He made his way past the old, massive tree, and as the snow began to fall faster now, hiding more of the world with each passing second, up to the point where Mouse couldn't see the faint glowing of something near the tree.

It took him a few hours to find the brook, but the second he did, he started heading south, just as Oak Wood had instructed. So far, things had been quiet, though the snow was far heavier now, making it far harder to see. The snow also made the world around him serenely silent in the way that only snow can. He could swear that his hooves didn’t even crunch in the snow beneath him as he moved.

The world around him was perfectly quiet.

And then a mare’s voice cut through the snow. “Fire!”

A roaring ball of flame shot towards Mouse with incredible speed, and Mouse barely had the time to raise his blade before he was engulfed in an inferno. The enchantment on his gambeson ate the heat, but it still burned him before he dropped into the snow.

Flames licked at the edge of his cloak, and he rolled through the banks of powder around him to put out the smaller flames as he drew both knives.

“Well,” the voice said as Mouse got back on his hooves, “I have to say, I am surprised that you’re still alive.”

The mare to the right, and even as Mouse turned to face her, she stood out from the trees to reveal her jade-green coat. She scowled at him as she stood, surrounded by small, floating stones that hummed faintly as their runes glowed.

Mouse said nothing, but held his knives high.

“So who sent you?” Jade Stoneheart asked bitterly. “Was it Barley, the baker? Or maybe Hopps, the brewer? Grave the gravekeeper? I know they all want me dead for some reason or another.”

Mouse gave her the faintest hint of a smile. “Killed one too many flower gardens did you?”

“And in return I blessed their fields,” she hissed. “I gave them life-giving runes that would make sure their crops grown strong for years to come, and I am cursed for it. Not that you would know, assassin.”

Mouse opened his mouth to retort, when the Runecaster spoke again. “Storm!”

Another runestone, crackling with electric power, unleashed a bolt of lightning, which shot into Mouse faster than he could blink, and with a deafening roar crashing into his ears. He was tossed back with the thunder, his muscles locking up and twitching as millions of volts shot through his body, leaving an almost paralyzed pony lying in the snow.

Mouse felt his heart flutter erratically, and quickly thanked Luna that his knife had caught most of the blow.

After a moment or two, Jade sighed. “I hope they were paying you well for this,” she said eventually. “Which means it was probably Summer. Barely’s too brave to let another pony fight his battle. Grave’s coward enough, but broke.”

Mouse remained still, waiting to see if she would move closer, playing dead was a strategy that worked all too well back when he was in prison. Of course, he quickly learned that it also only works once.

“Bury,” Jade commanded one of the runes around her.

It answered, and the ground beneath him started to churn and open up, putting the “body” in a hole that was quickly going to become a tomb.

Mouse leapt up, dropping the dead act, and reaching the lip of the hole. He quickly pulled himself up, and over the edge, and back into the snow. A second later, the earth snapped shut behind him, leaving nothing to mark where the hole had been.

Jade smiled. “You're not the first to try that, you know.”

Mouse didn't answer, but brought up his crescent knives up, ready for the worst.

“Blizzard!” she roared, and massive, spear-length, icicles came flying at him. Mouse rolled through the snow, and looked back in time to see the icy spears dig straight through a tree behind him, splitting the trunk in two.

“Never take your eyes off your enemy,” Demon’s voice echoed in his skull, and Mouse’s head snapped back just in time to see an oncoming boulder flying for him.

Mouse dived beneath it, wondering how he missed the spell name that time, before coming up to see a fireball coming at him.

One of the Twin Moons came up, slashing against the entire width of the flame, eating it whole.

“You’re doing well,” the Runecaster said with a sneer, before she yelled again. “Storm!”

Another lightning bolt shot toward him, arcing between the trees and the snow to striked him straight and true.

Mouse didn’t have the time to block, and he barely had the time to dodge, but he leapt, moving just out of the way of the bright beam of pain and death. It seared his cloak, gambeson, and flesh as it passed him by, and the thunder that boomed less than a half a second after the fact nearly made him deaf.

His ears rang, his heart pounded, his blood roared, and he rushed the spell-slinging mare before him.

She answered with another spell, one he did not hear over the ringing in his ears, before a wall of stone separated them. He had a moment to blink before the wall rushed him, barreling down toward the darker stallion like a tsunami of earth.

Mouse leapt to the side, diving into yet more snow before another flash and boom cut through the air, the thunderbolt searing the air above him.

Pulling himself up, Mouse was ready for another attack, but was surprised to see that one of the runestones floating around Jade fell to earth.

She spoke another spell, and a fireball flew at him at a breakneck speed. Leaping again, Mouse was caught by the edge of the blast, but his new armor simply absorbed the heat, leaving Mouse untouched, even though his cloak was now in tatters.

The ringing was starting to subside, and his hearing was coming back in bursts.

“...Ungrate...ools!...they kn...help them?”

Ranting. She was definitely ranting. Now the bigger question Mouse had was could he use that to his advantage? She was keeping her distance, attacking a range where she had the advantage, but was there any way he can use her ranting to get closer?

Mouse saw movement above him, and looked up to see the tree next to him swiping at him with its branches, trying to blow him over. He leapt gain, sure that he would make it, only for another fireball to shoot off to where he would land.

The moment he hit the snow, the fireball exploded, with Mouse at the epicenter.

His armor tried to mitigate the flames, but the heat was too great. He was thrown backwards into another tree, missing hair in places as the flames tried to catch on him fur and clothes.

The only thing that kept him from burning to a crisp was the armor, which repressed the smaller flames as they sprung up around him.

Mouse lay there for a moment or two, gasping for breath and hissing from the pain, trying to recover from the blow as the mare slowly approached, always staying out of arm’s reach.

“...have to say you did wel...aven’t had to fight like that in a long time...ven the trees are starting to wither.”

They were. Jade’s runes were starting to eat the life of the light forest around them, consuming the life of the pine trees around them, their evergreen branches turning sickly brown and curling on themselves.

Apparently Mouse was to take this as a compliment.

Mouse had not been beaten like this in a long time, and it was bringing memories to the forefront of his mind. The day a massive stallion beat him as a four-year-old for taking some bread. The time he was nearly drowned by two large prisoners for fun. The time he had been caught outside his cell and nearly beaten as a young stallion.

It all came to him.

“But now I think,” Jade said, “the time has come for you to go.”

Mouse looked up at the mare, and something happened to the assassin. Whenever he had dealt with a target that wasn't the guard, he felt nothing. Hate was something he reserved for the guard, those who had wronged him, but this mare…

This mare reminded him that it wasn't just the guards who hated him. His fellow prisoners hated him. Golden Shield from Baltimare hated him. Sap hated him. Dusk and Shade hated him. By Halden, Shade tried to kill him.

Equestria hated him. It always had.

And he was tired of bending over backwards for them.

“It’s nothing personal, it’s just that it’s too dangerous to let you live.”

No. It was personal.

This was his personal attack against every part if the world that hated him.

This was his personal stand against the spite that he had tried to embrace, if only for the fact that it wasn’t as bad as back in the prison.

This was his hatred against the world’s.

He lifted one of his knives and threw the crescent blade hard. It spun, appearing as the moon itself as it flew through the air in a move that Demon would definitely not approve of.

The blade struck true, digging into Jade’s shoulder as she began to cast her last runespell.

And Mouse brought all his hatred to bear.

He slashed with his free blade, closing the distance between the two of them in an instant, forcing her on the defensive for the first time in the whole exchange.

The silver moon sliced through the air, whistling as it passed. Its edge was so sharp that it didn’t even disturb the falling snow.

Mouse attacked, attacked, and attacked again. Grabbing his second knife with a telekinetic pull and yanking it free, the enraged unicorn began to use everything that Demon had taught him.

The untold hours of practice in the room finally paid off as he unleashed his fury into the Runecaster, attacking the head, the chest, and anything that could lead to a fatal strike.

If she moved to save her chest and heart, Mouse would slash her face. If she tried to save herself there, then her chest and flanks were open.

The runestones fell, their magic failing as her concentration was shattered.

And Mouse did not relent.

Blade to chest. Point to nose. Stab at the heart. Pommel to throat.

Back and back, Mouse pushed her, growing as his eyes saw red, and his fury burned so bright that he didn’t feel his wounds.

She tripped over a root, and the burned assassin pounced, pinning her to the ground with her weight as he brought his blades down again and again and again.

Jade’s forelegs came up to protect her, doing her best to save herself from the bladed fury of the thing that was pinning her down.

The snow continued to fall.

He slashed along her face, forelegs, and shoulders, before he tried to get his blade beneath her skin to cut her chest open.

She threw one last kick at him, and he answered by stabbing her in the heart.

Her forelegs dropped, and assassin stabbed again.

Again and again. Left knife, right knife, both knives, all into the chest of the body that lay in the snow under him.

Again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

He gasped for breath, before stabbing one more time.

Another ragged breath, and he pulled both blades free.

He breathed heavily, tired, exhausted, and furious.

He wasn’t going to stand for it.

Not anymore.

He wasn’t going to roll over to anyone. Not the guards, not the people, no one.

He wasn’t a mouse to be played with before the cat ate him.

He was a force of death and vengeance.

He was a shadow on the wall, a poisoned chalice. He was a reaper of souls, a blade that cut life short. He was an assassin, he made nations shake.

He was a Ghost, a servant of the Void.

Chapter 21

Ghost had to go to a party.

The set up was beautiful. Oracle had been collecting contracts over the past month, and by a method that Ghost still could not divine, he had spun a rumor for all of them to hear. Rumor of a manor sitting proudly on its stoic perch filled with fabulous treasures.

The story went that it was some unicorn noble’s summer home, and having no heirs, and aware that his title may not mean much in the coming decades, offered the land, manor, and fortune to anyone who could solve his little treasure hunt.

It was just wild enough for an old eccentric noble that no one questioned it's validity for a moment.

The details of the treasure itself didn't matter. Old World gold, spells, artefacts, whatever it needed to be to inspire greed in the targets, all that did matter was that they net was cast, now they just had to pull in the catch.

Ghost’s job was simple, kill them all. It shouldn't be too hard, given how maybe two of them were experienced enough to be an actually challenge in a fight, and the rest were nobles who probably couldn't tell which end of the sword was the pointy end without a few moments of study.

Still, despite the ease of dealing with untrained civilians, Demon advised him against simply drawing his knives, and ending them. “While I have trained you for this, it is important to make sure your other talents are not left to waste away. Go, test your prowess of deception and discretion. It will do you good, I think.”

So, with a short visit from Ghoul to get a Cutie Mark, and a quick choice of wardrobe, he, under the guise of Penny Pincher, made his way to the Onyx estate, ready to spill the blood of seven different ponies.

Penny Pincher stepped out of his carriage and adjusted his vest. Once adjusted, he took a moment to look up at the estate. The tall, Unicornian building had three stories, with two, tall, circular towers built into its face. Capped with spire-like roofs with blue tiles that were slowly fading to black.

The entire building was made of dark stone, and built in the classic style that unicorns love so dearly loved, with one exception. The windows were tiny, no wider than a hoof and a half.

The whole house was, of course, a lie. Though it's apparent age, the house was actually no older than ten years old. The whole thing had been built by Oracle as a safehouse and a deathtrap, both.

And tonight, it would be Ghost's canvas, to work his art of death.

Penny Pincher tossed a copper bit at his coachmare. “Thank you, dear, you’ve done marvelous.”

The coachmare growled at him, before hissing in a voice that no spell could ever disguise as anyone other than Wraith’s. “Be careful, sir,” she said, glaring at him from beneath her hood. “That kind of talk may not be appreciated here.”

“Now, now, my dear,” Penny Pincher said. “It does not do to have a servant correct her master. If we were equals, then perhaps I would listen,” he said, before offering the mare a sympathetic look.

Wraith growled, and began pulling the coach away, leaving Penny Pincher, the manor, and the “butler” alone.

The pegasus smiled as he approached, “and finally, we have the last guest. The others are waiting for you, you know?”

The noble guest gave the butler, who was certainly not Phantom a nod. “Do forgive me, I was getting things ready elsewhere.”

“Well, you best not keep them waiting much longer,” he said with a smile. “They're about ready to tear each other apart.”

“Are they now? Might make my job easier.”

Phantom smiled, and handed Penny Pincher the key. “Have fun.”

Penny Pincher smiled, and stepped inside, and the door locked shut behind him. The moment he did, he was almost immediately beset by an older mare. “Oh, you’ve finally arrived! I was wondering when you’d get here. I was worried you know, I feared the others would have already began searching the house without you if I hadn’t stepped in.”

The unicorn mare’s overpowering perfume and heavily powdered face was nearly enough to repulse Penny to the back of the room. As it was, it took every ounce of control to keep his ground and resist retreating from her. “Um...thank you, dear...I can’t possibly express my relief to know that someone here is acting in a truly generous manner.”

“Oh,” the mare cried, giggling to herself as if she were twenty, while being at least twice as much and fourteen wrinkles too late. “It’s nothing, honestly, I’m just trying to be as civil as possible. We can’t act like those two ruffians that came in earlier.”

“Ruffians?” Penny asked.

“Oh, quite,” the mare said, eager to gossip in his ear. “Three of them. Two earth ponies, and a pegasus. The earth ponies are common farmers at best, peasant workhorses. Or at least one of them is, the other seems like a lousy drunk, by all accounts. Then there’s the pegasus, and he—”

“Now, now, now, my dear,” Penny Pincher said. “Let’s not stoop to their level, we must do things the proper way.”

“Oh, of course, how foolish of me, I do hope you can forgive a young woman of her flightful mind, I’m simply so flustered by the atmosphere of this place that I’ve gone and forgotten to introduce myself,” she said, before she collected herself and holding out her hoof. “My name is Lady Cobalt Pitch, and I’m here to, well, you know what I’m here for, same reason as you. What about you, what’s your name?”

“Pincher, Penny Pincher, representing the late Onyx’s long-lost nephew,” shaking her hoof, and introducing himself. “Of course, between you and me, I’m pretty sure there’s no relation.”

“Ooh, what a scandal,” Lady Cobalt said, smiling to herself. “It reminds me of somepony else here, I’ve heard that—”

Penny nodded, pretending to listen along before he spotted a well dressed pegasus working his way down the hall. That had to be the Major’s son, Notched Blade.

The pegasus, dressed in formal military uniform, glanced about bored, glazing over the walls and picking through the bookshelves. He checked the back of tapestries, pushed against the walls, and was obviously checking for a treasure that he didn’t really care to find.

Or, at least, he wanted everypony to believe he didn't care to find it.

“Miss Cobalt,” he said suddenly, interrupting her long string of gossip, “do forgive me, but I’m afraid the longer we spend speaking in one place, the longer everypony else has to find the treasure.”

She blinked for a second, before offering a nervous smile. “I suppose you're right. It would seem silly to stay here and talk as the winner wheels out the treasure from underneath us, wouldn't it?”

“Oh, indeed,” Penny agreed. “Besides which, we may be at a disadvantage already. Why, I’m sure some of these ponies would be willing to tear the whole house apart to find the treasure.”

“No? You think so?” She asked.

“Oh, you know the lower class,” Penny said in a conspiratorial whisper, “some of them are willing to do anything for money.”

Cobalt sighed. “You're sadly too right, Mr. Penny.”

“Please, call me Pinch,” he said.

“Of course, Mr. Pinch,” she said, before finally taking her leave.

As she walked away, Penny turned to Notched Blade and sighed. “Honestly, I almost thought she wouldn’t let me go.”

Notched looked up from his search and smirked. “Isn’t that the truth? She pounced on me when I first came in, too.”

Penny nodded. “It wouldn't be so bad if what she was doing wasn't so obvious.”

Notched furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s only acting friendly in case she doesn't find the treasure. She's hoping that whoever finds it will share with her.”

Notched raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”

“Sir, as a banker, I know so.”

“Huh…” the pegasus said, before descending to the floor. “You seem rather knowledgeable about the nature of ponies Mr….?” He asked holding out his hoof.

“Oh, Pincher. Penny Pincher, but please, call me Pinch.”

“Mr. Pinch,” Notched repeated. “I have to say, my father always told me that a stallion that knows how to read ponies is worth more than all of Hurricane’s Hundred.”

“That’s some very high praise,” Penny said.

“I agree, and I think you’ve earned it. Now, tell me, what brings you here?”

“Oh, well I’ve been hired to represent Lord Onyx’s ‘long-lost’ nephew. Of course, he doesn’t seem terribly interested, otherwise he’d be here. Nonetheless, he couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by without sending someone, so here I am.”

“Fascinating,” Notched said. “I do believe we are going to be good friends.”

“Well, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Penny said. “We are still in competition, even if it is friendly.”

“And that’s better than most of these other ponies,” Notched said. “I’ll tell you what, you go talk to the other six ponies, and if you report back to me, I’ll tell you where I’ve already looked for the treasure.”

“Of course, I...wait...six other ponies? Are you counting Miss Cobalt?”

“No, beside her, you, and me, there’s another six ponies.”

Penny blinked. “Odd. I thought there was only supposed to be eight ponies here tonight, not nine. I must have been mistaken. Anyway, I will get right on it.”

Notched nodded, and returned to his search, while Penny stepped away, trying to hide the confused panic that was rising in the back of his head. Why is there another target? How did he get here? Why is he here?

Another part of him, the professional part, said it didn't matter. The pony had to die now, not that it mattered. Whoever he was, he deserved death as much ass the rest of them. He was going to die, and he himself, Ghost and the mask of Penny Pincher, would deliver the killing blow and final judgement.

So it was fated.

As he thought this, he soon stumbled upon a large earth pony stallion. His massive, amber-colored bulk sat at table and kicked back a tankard filled with a liquid that matched his fur. “Well, well, if it isn't the final guest! We were starting to wonder if you’d ever show up.”

“Well forgive me,” Penny Pincher said, “but I’m not terribly excited to find a treasure of which I will only get a fraction.”

“Hm? You have children to pay for too?” He asked before laughing and emptying his tankard.

Penny smirked, before sitting. “Not quite, but I may have to join you for the headache I’m getting.”

“Then sit down, and grab a mug!” the earth pony cried. “Let’s drink to a treasure that’s going to be stolen from us!”

Penny Pincher did, and he had a couple of drinks as he listened to the stallion ramble on, before planting the seeds he needed to sow.

For next few hours, Penny Pincher made friends with all seven of his targets, learning enough about their histories and their secrets to push them where he wanted them to go.

Tangy Hops, the earth pony he was drinking with, had once had a fling with a barmaid that he felt honor-bound to pay for, but his real family had died years ago during a pegasus raid on his village in Earthonia. He kept thinking about joining the barmaid and trying again, but the ghost of his daughter’s face was just too much for him.

Stoneheart was the other earth pony that Cobalt had mentioned, and he was almost larger than Hops. Having once been a soldier in the employ of one of the Earthonian landowners, he had since become a mercenary, and traveled the world to spill blood for money. Over the years he soon tired of the bloodshed, and he’s here now to earn enough to retire without picking up his axe again.

Sweet Pea was the last earth pony in attendance. She was the daughter of a new earth pony landowner in Fillydelphia, and her father was now very rich. Or, he would have been if he wasn’t on his deathbed. While the father had done his best to split the fortune evenly between her and her brother Snow Pea. Snow Pea was actively working to get excluded from the will by questioning her father’s mental health. This was her last chance to get the money to save her inheritance.

Topaz Glow was a respectable unicorn, though his ideas always seemed far-fetched to the average pony. He had an idea for a flying ship that would use several passengers to pedal like a bicycle for altitude. No one would buy into it, so he was here to try and fund his own work so that he could make travel between Pegasopolis and Equestria easier, as well as hint to them that an attack would lead to a counter-offensive invasion against the clouds, something never before done in all the history of Pegasopolis.

Cobalt, of course, was there because her family was going bankrupt. What was once a proud, Unicornian family fell on hard times when Equestria’s own market for magical items began to compete with theirs. Soon after they made the critical and dangerous decision to abandon Unicornia in favor of the new world, but they only fell on harder times. Unable to buy the land they needed, they were now slowly wasting away on what little fortune they still had.

Notched Blade was a slightly more interesting case. He did not have the military fortitude to take up sword and shield in the defense of his family and country that his father had, and the old general was looking at perhaps disowning his child unless he did something with his life. Notched knew he couldn't actually impress his father, so he was here to earn enough money in a single blow to keep him taken care of for a long time. Of course, after spending some time in the house, he would settle for walking out with Sweet Pea on his arm.

Spring Breeze was the last one of Ghost's original targets. A quiet, shy girl that Penny quickly wrapped around his hoof. Poor girl was bored more than anything, and came here to have something to do rather than sit in her room and read the same book for the hundredth time. She knew nothing of the struggle of her ancestors, much less that of the common pony that did his best not to freeze to death in the cold winter nights.

Penny managed to befriend and gain the trust all these ponies, and truly, his weeks of practice from Ghoul on how to talk and respond and read ponies was finally paying off. Each and every one of them had a shadow of a doubt in the back of their mind, each one subconsciously worried about the others. With a few words, Ghost had nearly gotten them to reach for each other's throats.

And then there was the last one.

The pegasus that shouldn’t be there, Windswept.

He was the only one that Penny Pincher hadn’t yet approached, and the only one he didn’t know.

Windswept presented a challenge. He quickly realized that the other ponies were almost easy to manipulate because he knew what their motives and desires were. He knew nothing about Windswept. He supposed this was a good lesson about how knowing your enemy was vital in his position, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to deal with an unknown variable like this.

Still, he was in this house, so he had to die.

Walking up to the naked pegasus, Penny Pincher quickly spoke up. “Um, excuse me, you there.”

Windswept looked up at him. “Sir?”

“Yes, hello, my name is Penny Pincher, and you?”

“Oh, I’m Windswept sir,” the pegasus replied, dropping to the ground to speak with Penny Pincher face to face.

And indeed it was face to face. Penny was a small stallion, used to looking up at ponies, but Windswept met him at eye-level, with only a quarter of an inch difference between them.

“Windswept, it’s a pleasure,” Penny said. “I...I have to admit I’m curious about you. Something tells me you are different than the others.”

Windswept winced. “Well, I...uh...I admit that I imagine I stand out a bit by not wearing any fancy clothes, but it’s what I have, sir.”

“It’s what you have?”

“Yes, sir. I don’t have money like the rest of you do, sir. In fact, I spent my last coppers just trying to get here.”

A pit was starting to form in Ghost’s stomach.

“The last you had?”

“Yes, sir. I heard about what was going on here, and I had to come. I don’t have a job, y’see, and Celestia knows I’ve tried to get one all my life.”

“You don’t have a job?”

“No sir, I’m too old now for an apprenticeship. Hardly anyone would look at me, much less give me a job, sir.”

“What about the taverns, or the mines?”

“An accident from my youth left my left hoof is numb, sir, I feel nothing in it. I can’t hold a pick right, and I can’t hold drinks right. I don’t have many options beyond that, sir.”

Penny nodded along, feeling slightly ill.

“So I’m here to get enough to start a shop. The rest I’d give to the others, but I just need enough to get going.”

Penny nodded. “Sounds like you’re a fine stallion, Mr. Windswept.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Best of luck to you,” Penny Pincher said as he turned and walked away.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Dinner was called. Spring Breeze had taken it upon herself to call the hour, and she personally invited everyone else down to enjoy the meal together.

The butler had had quite the spread prepared for the nine guests. Fresh, cut carrots and candied apples sat beside fruit salads and fresh bread. Salads mixed with raspberries and walnuts sat in individual bowls, while a spread of hay and grass with a creamy dipping sauce dominated the middle of the table. Heavy, baked potatoes, drizzled with olive oil and Sea salt sent up a delicious, if somewhat greasy scent, but they were mouth-watering nonetheless. Radishes and parsley offered a garnish, while cucumber sandwiches and cheeses were close to the edges, ready to be eaten.

It was enough to convince the others to take Spring Breeze up on her offer. As they sat down together, the Earth ponies asked for a blessing from Peme, the pegasi from Ventus, and the unicorns from Celestia.

Penny followed along, best he could.

Then, with grace finished, they began to eat. Sandwiches and cheeses were eaten first, before the salad and potatoes.

Plates were passed around, and then everyone noticed that there wasn't any wine to go with the meal.

“Does anypony see the wine?” Penny asked.

A mumble of the negative came back to him.

“I saw some of the nicer dinner wines back in the kitchen,” Hops said.

“I’ll get it,” Topaz said, standing up.

A few moments passed before the unicorn engineer returned. “I must say that our host certainly had good taste,” he said, reading the bottle he had picked as he returned. “This is an Earthonian wine, from the Ash Valley Vineyard.”

The earth ponies whistled.

“Is that so?” Penny said. “That is a fine wine indeed.”

Topaz smiled, before uncorking it, letting the smell of grapes fill the room.

“Marvelous,” Cobalt sighed.

“Windswept,” Penny said, getting the attention of the beggar and the table, “have you ever had a wine so rich before?”

“Um...no, sir,” he answered.

“Would you like to try it?” Penny asked.

“I...I wouldn't mind, sir.”

Penny smiled. “Pour the stallion a glass, Topaz. He’ll be our cupbearer tonight.”

The other ponies laughed, before Topaz poured Windswept a cup of the dark red wine. Windswept smiled, before he drank his wine, letting it flow over his tongue. He set his glass down with a smile, and Penny Pincher did the same. “Well, Windswept? Does it taste like poison?” he joked.

Windswept smiled, opened his mouth, and fell over.

At first, Hops thought it was a joke and laughed, while the others were too shocked to speak. Penny moved first, running around the table as fast as he could. “Windswept? Windswept!” he rushed to the beggar’s side, and rolled him on his back, revealing foam in his mouth, and his eyes glazed over. “Windswept!” Penny called. “Someone do something! Quickly!”

Finally the others moved, Topaz rushed up beside him, and began casting spells of the healing variety. Stoneheart rushed in, opening a bag that he kept at his side as he prepared a triage.

The beggar convulsed once, twice, and then he was done. He was dead.

The eight other guests stared at him for a moment, a single moment, before the entire room blew up. “You killed him!”

“He’s been poisoned!”

“Oh, my Celestia, save me!”

“You killed him!”

“Alright! Calm down! Everypony, calm down!” Stoneheart yelled. “Calm! Down!”

The ponies slowly went silent as the soldier took command. “Listen, we have a murderer among us.”

“And it’s that pony,” Cobalt swore, pointing directly at Penny Pincher, who seemed aghast as her true nature came to light. “He’s the one who suggested the beggar drink the wine.”

“Are you crazy?” Notched yelled, before pointing at Topaz. “He’s the one that brought the wine bottle.”

“The truth is,” Stoneheart nearly yelled, forcing himself to be heard. “The truth is we have no idea who poisoned the bottle. Anyone of us could have done it between here and now. We’re all suspects. That’s the truth of the matter. So, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to split up, everyone with a partner. Pick somebody now.”

Penny quickly slid up to Notched Blade, while the others did the same.

Once everyone, including Stoneheart, had a partner, he spoke again. “Alright, now, everyone take a room. I and my partner,” he said, motioning to Hops, “will begin rounds to check on everyone. If we do this right, we’ll find the murderer before anyone else has to die.”

They quickly spread out, each pair finding a room while Stoneheart and Hops stayed behind.

“Did you see how fast she tried to blame you?” Notched said.

“Cobalt? Yes. It surprised me honestly. I knew she was trying her best to pretend to be friends when we first arrived, but that was more viscous than I thought possible from her.”

“It’s the nature of ponies,” Notched said, “and quite possibly the nature of a murderer.”

“Her, a murderer?” he asked. “That seems...well...I can’t say unlikely, but—”

“Pinch, listen. She jumped on you. She laid blame down so fast that I didn't have time to think. She was after you, and if that’s not suspicious, then I don’t know what is.”

“You think she’s out to get me?”

“I think she’s out to get all of us,” Notched said. “If she’s willing to kill one of us, she’s willing to kill all of us.”

“So what do we do? Tell Stoneheart?”

“That won’t work,” Notched said. “Everypony will be telling Stoneheart that everypony is guilty. No, the only way to deal with Cobalt is to kill her first.”

“But what it isn’t her?” Penny asked. “What if she wants just nervous, or jumpy?”

“Can we afford to wait and be sure?” Notched asked.

“Can we afford to be wrong?” Penny asked back.

This caused the pegasus to hesitate for a second. “I...I don't…”

“Besides, didn't you blame Topaz at first?” Penny asked.

“It was my first thought,” Notched admitted, “but when Stoneheart mentioned the fact that it could take been anyone, I…”

“Gut feelings are hardly ever wrong,” Penny warned.

Notched bit his lip. “I…” he began.

“Look, how about this, how about, after Stoneheart passes by, we go and watch them. I’ll take Topaz, you watch Cobalt, and we report back on what we saw.”

“But how do we spy on them without appearing guilty ourselves?” Notched asked.

Penny opened his mouth, ready to answer, before hesitating. “That...that is difficult,” he admitted, before he began to pace around the room.

Notched watched him move, trying to suppress his own nervous energy.

Penny kept pacing around the small room that they were inhabiting for the duration, before a knock sounded on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door opened, and revealed both Hops and Stoneheart. “Well, neither of you are dead yet,” Stoneheart said, carrying the axe he had set aside when he first came in. “Alright, up against the wall, both of you. The faster you comply, the less I have to shame either of you.”

Penny obeyed without a moment’s hesitation, and Notched soon followed after.

“Hops,” Stoneheart said, “check the pegasus’ hooves. Let me know if you see any blood, or any stains.”

“You’re checking for stains?” Penny asked Stoneheart as he approached the small unicorn. “You think the poison stained his hooves?”

“No,” Stoneheart whispered, “but it’s the best I have at the moment, so it’s what I’m going with.”

After a few moments of checking the pair’s hooves, Stoneheart nodded. “Do both of you feel safe with each other?” he asked.

They both nodded.

“Good,” he nodded. “We’ll be back around later.”

As they both left the room, Penny sighed. “I don’t know how we’re going to do it, Notched,” he said finally. “I have no idea how we’re going to spy on the others without getting into trouble.”

Notched sighed. “We may just have to trust Stoneheart to find the murderer.”

Penny sighed, and leaned against a wall.

And it, in turned opened.

Penny fell backwards into a dark tunnel, and Notched watched, wide-eyed as he suddenly “discovered” the secret passages that ran through the mansion.

Stoneheart was coming back from Cobalt and Sweet Pea, and frowned.

“So we still don't know who’s the killer,” Hops sighed.

“No, but at least he hasn't made another move.” Stoneheart muttered.

They walked back slowly, toward Spring Breeze and Topaz, with the soldier muttering to himself.

Neither of them were ready for what they saw when they opened the door.

Spring Breeze was lying dead, blood pooling out from her slit throat. Her glazed eyes stared up at the ceiling, and, perhaps most damning of all, Topaz was nowhere to be seen.

Stoneheart cursed, and ran back to Cobalt. “Check on the other two! Make sure they’re safe!” he yelled back to Hops, who stared at the body of the young mare for a moment longer.

Penny and Notched, escorted by Hops, were soon returned to the dining room, where Windswept still lay.

Stoneheart, Cobalt, and Sweet Pea were waiting for them, unsure as to how to proceed.

“We know who the murderer is,” Stoneheart said, getting everyone’s attention. “It's Topaz, but we don't know where he is.”

“What do you mean we don't know where he is?” Cobalt asked.

“Exactly that,” Stoneheart answered. “He killed Spring then disappeared.”

“How did he disappear?” The unicorn lady growled.

“We don't know,” Stoneheart muttered.

“Well aren’t you useful?” Cobalt yelled.

“There’s no need for that,” Penny Pincher said.

“No need for that?” She asked with a snort. “We are trapped here with a murderer, and not only has our great protector lost him, but he hasn't gotten us out yet.”

“I can't,” Stoneheart growled.

“What do you mean you can't?” Cobalt barked. “You have a massive axe, what's stopping you from smashing the door to pieces.”

“I can't! The door is steel covered in wood. I know, I tried. I can beat the door all day and only blunt my axe for the trouble.”

“Well, what about the windows?” She asked.

“If you can fit through that window, you are welcome to,” he told her, motioning to the little-more-than-hoof-wide windows.

She looked around, from the window to the door and cursed. “Who builds a house like this!” She roared, before walking away.

“Cobalt!” Stoneheart yelled out after her.

“I’ll get her,” Penny said, before chasing after the mare, disappearing around the corner.

And then there was a scream.

“Stay here!” Stoneheart said, before he rushed around the corner. As he careened around the corner, his eyes fell on the bodies of both Cobalt and Penny.

He gasped in horror, dropping his axe to pick up the still warm body of—

Wait, Penny wasn't dead.

And that was Stoneheart’s last thought before a knife dug into his throat.

And then there were three.

With Hops, Notched, and Sweet Pea all that was left after Penny and the other deaths, the general’s son took command. He led them back to the room where he and Penny were first sent to, with the entrance to the secret crawlspace hidden in the mansion.

“This has to be how he’s moving,” Notched said. “It's the only way he can get through and stay hidden.”

Hops, who was carrying Stoneheart’s axe nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Sweet Pea, stay here,” Notched said. “It's to dangerous to take you through the tunnels, and while it's also dangerous to leave you out here, your chances of seeing him come at you through the tunnels is better than ours, alright?”

She nodded, nervously.

“Alright, Hops, you’re with me, we’re going to end this.”

With that final, defiant proclamation, they dove into the tunnels, leaving Sweet Pea alone.

She was all but offered on a silver platter.

Notched lead the way, into the normally cramped tunnels, with a living wall behind him. Hops, the poor stallion, had to squeeze into the tunnel, to the point where he couldn't turn around.

Still, they pushed their way forward, deeper into the house to try and find Topaz, the murderer.

“You sure he’s in here?” Hops muttered.

“He has to be. There’s nowhere else for him to be.”

Notched led him in deeper, deeper, into the tunnels, searching for any signs of the treacherous murderer. The unicorn would answer for this, he would answer for the deaths of Stoneheart and Pinch, and the others. This crime could not go unpunished. Even if Topaz died this day, Notched swore that he would do everything he could to dishonor the unicorn's name for all eternity and—

And there lay Topaz, stuffed into the tunnels with the wound in his heart seeping blood.

He was already dead.

“What?” He managed to say, catching the attention of the earth pony behind him. “That's...this is impossible, there's no way—”

And that was as far as he got before an axe blade tore him in two.

As Notched hit the floor of the tunnel, the large figure of Hops behind him spoke up. “Sorry Notched, but either it was you, me, or the girl, and I don't have the guts to kill her. So here's to hoping it was you.”

“Not quite, Hops, ol’ buddy,” Penny said before driving his knife into his back.

As Ghost walked back into house proper, he would admit that he was slightly disappointed with himself. He wouldn't have been able to pull it off if it weren't for his previous knowledge of the house and it's secrets.

As he walked out of the kitchen, with an uncorked, unpoisoned, bottle of wine, he sat down in the dining room, and poured himself a glass.

Windswept’s dead eyes stared up at him.

“It's nothing personal, Windswept,” Ghost said as he drank deep of his glass. “In fact, your death in particular was a true tragedy of business.”

Windswept said nothing.

“I know. It still doesn't make it fair.”

Chapter 22

Ghost woke, yawning as he stared up at the ceiling of his small room. The red and black banners and tapestries that surrounded him left the room warm and cozy, leaving the ability to slide out of bed criminally impossible.

You know, things aren’t so bad, he thought to himself as he rolled on his goosefeather bed. He had, maybe two kills that he didn’t particularly like, and was practically swimming in gold. Honestly, it was more than he knew what to do with. He had enchanted armor, knives that cost an unholy amount of gold, some fine cloaks, a magical bag, and enough food to last years.

Things weren’t so bad.

Yes, he did have to live with the death of the sacrifice that he had to perform when he first entered this little cult, but she was suffering, and was not long for the world anyway. He ended her suffering more than anything for her.

The other was Windswept. The kind, respectful pegasus that simply wanted a job. The poor beggar that was down on his luck, and just wanted enough to have a normal life. The poor, hopeful, Windswept that only wanted a chance, and…

Yeah, he was going to stop thinking about that.

He rolled in his bed, sighing as he sunk further into his soft, soft mattress. The place to sleep was also one of the best he had for years. He couldn’t deny that this alone was easily worth one pony’s blood. Maybe two.

A knock sounded on his door, and Wraith entered. “If you’re done sleeping, breakfast is served.”

He nodded, and rolled out of his bed. Taking a moment to stretch, as he had been taught by Demon, Ghost quickly woke up, before heading to the main room.

As he stepped into the main hall, he was first greeted by the sight of Spectre downing her fifth ale for the morning. Her ability to just put away beer confused Ghost to no end. Even when it came to proper ale, instead of the light, morning brew, she was able to drink tankard after tankard of the stuff.

Then again, if he had the same relationship with his parents that she did, he might not blame her.

Ghoul picked more than ate his food. An almost dainty fork slowly stabbed his food and brought it up to his mouth with all the grace typically reserved for a noble’s table. His concentration on his plate was almost absolute up until Ghost entered the room. “Well, well, good morning my dear canvas.”

Ghost nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing else.

Demon ate like his namesake would a soul. His crazed zealotry of the Void carried into every facet of his being, including the way he ate his food. Carrots, honeyed apples, and more was shoved down his gullet as fast as he could possibly manage.

“Slow down or you’ll choke,” Phantom warned, taking bits from his own plate with practiced precision. Ghost still found his strange insistence that “everything is a lock” strange, but it made him constantly slow and methodical to a fault. Of course, Ghost wasn't going to complain much, what with considering that there was no lock that could separate Phantom from whoever he wanted dead.

Oracle didn't eat with the others, he always took his meals alone, and prepared them himself. He didn't mean to be rude by it, it was a strange habit that he never explained. In fact, Ghost was willing to bet that Oracle himself forgot what reason was, but Ghost wasn't quite willing to trust luck again.

“What do we have this morning?” He asked as he walked up. “Shortbread? Cornbread?”

“Scones,” Spectre answered as finished her next drink.

The cream-glazed, and still-warm breads were passed his way, and he eagerly grabbed a pair before biting into it. The glaze practically melted on his tongue, and the scone yielded eagerly to his teeth. “Hm, perfect as usual.” He took another bite, enjoying every second of the fresh bread. “Where do we get this?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Spectre hummed in response.

“The bread, where do we get the fresh bread? Is there a mare down in the town that bakes it, or…?”

“Wraith bakes,” Phantom told him, picking at his food as though it were a massive lock.

“Wait, Wraith?” He asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“You bake for us?” He asked.

“I learned how best to mold magic by spending years braiding dough, yes,” she told him.

“Huh,” Ghost said. “I’m surprised that you haven't tried to poison me.”

“I’ve certainly thought about it,” she told him. “The biggest problems is getting just you without making you a separate cake. It be too suspicious if I gave you a scone with ‘for Ghost only’ written on it in glazed sugar.”

Ghost nodded. “Fair.”

Demon laughed. “To face the prospect of death so calmly. I have trained you well, Ghost.”

“You tried, at least,” Ghost agreed.

“I’m still not convinced you aren’t a spy,” Wraith muttered.

“I know.”

She had, admittedly warmed to him a touch, once she had watched him long enough to prove to herself that he wasn't sneaking away to meet with a shadow council behind her back. Still, her paranoia was still strong and healthy enough to make sure she locked her bedroom door with four separate locks, chains, and bolts each.

So...as healthy as paranoia can be.

Still, he was surprised that the mare could bake something so delicious. He heard that baking took heart, and her complete lack of empathy made him think that anything she could bake would come out black and tasteless. So he was at the very least, very surprised.

As they ate breakfast, the cult of assassins spoke to each other in hushed tones. They didn't speak low for the sake of fear or unease, they spoke quietly because it was expected of them. They were assassins after all, and silence was their brother.

As the morning meal was winding down, Oracle appeared on the balcony above. “Ghost, come. Another job has come for you.”

Ghost sighed, scone halfway in his mouth, while Phantom smirked. “That's our job my friend. As long as three ponies remain on this planet, somepony will want somepony dead.”

Ghost nodded, but said nothing as he pushed himself away from the table, scone still in his mouth. Up he walked the stairs, chewing absentmindedly on his breakfast, until he finally came to Oracle’s office.

Swallowing whatever was left, he entered to find Oracle at his desk with the all-important tome in front of him. “Ghost, you must go to Canterlot,” Oracle said in the surprisingly straightforward manner of his lucidity. “You must go there and kill the leader of the Dark Wood Company branch there, named Cedar Sprig.”

Ghost nodded, faintly remembering the large earth pony he met six months ago.

“You will infiltrate the group, by whatever means necessary, and kill him as a member of the company for this contract to be completed correctly, am I understood? “

Ghost nodded.

“Good. Go and bring them to the Void.”

Mouse backed out of the office, and frowned in thought as he turned to his latest instructions. This was perhaps one of the shortest briefings he had ever been to, yet, despite that, it was also incredibly complicated.

He’d have to build an identity for day-to-day life for a long enough time that he can be considered a proper member of the company, that alone would be difficult enough to do.

Unless…

Cedar walked down through the Dark Wood Company building, checking the beds and facilities of the building for any sign of wear and tear.

Today had been good, if he said so himself. The team that was going out to the Dark Wood would be coming back today, and their latest contract would be complete. It’d bring in some gold, and he’s finally be able to afford to fix the leak in the roof.

As he finally came down to the main room, however, he was surprised to find a new pony on his floor.

A grey unicorn with a Unicornian short sword by his side and a blank flank stood in the lobby, looking nervously from wall to wall.

“Mr. Mouse?” Cedar called, surprised to see the pony again.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Cedar, right?” Mouse asked.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I’ve decided to join up after all. The job I’ve had feeding pigs just hasn't been enough for me, so I changed my mind and...well...I hope you’ll still take me?”

“Of course! Of course!” Cedar cried. “Absolutely! I tell you what, most of the other ponies are out on a small excursion right now, but when they come back, I’ll sign you up with a mentor right away.”

“Sounds perfect,” Mouse said.

Cedar smiled. “Great, in the meantime,come on in, sit down and enjoy yourself. I’ll get the forms ready for you.”

“Thank you so much,” Mouse said, before he took a seat and smiled.

The excursion team returned, lead by Polar Wind and Copper Oak, to find Mouse going through piles of paperwork. Cedar was not far away, almost hovering over the unicorn to make sure everything was fine.

“Hey, hey!” Copper said. “It’s the runt! How you doing runt?”

“Copper!” Cedar growled. “Do you want to clean the latrines or are you just dense?”

The smaller earth pony went quiet.

“Alright, Mouse, give me a minute to deal with everypony, and I’ll be right back.”

Mouse nodded, seemingly caught up in the paperwork.

“Alright, Polar give me a report!”

“Sir!” the pegasus said in salute, before he began to drone away about this, that, and the other. Ghost didn't care. Ghost was looking from pony to pony, trying to get a read on who was the biggest dog of the group.

Demon always warned him that appearances can be deceiving, and he had shown Ghost the scars from when he had once thought otherwise. Just because a pony looked like he was helpless did not mean he was, and that was especially true amongst the Dark Wood Company.

Luckily, Ghost didn't have to judge on his own. As long as he could read the respect that the company had for each other, then he could gauge what he needed to.

From the way they stood, watched and their general demeanor, Ghost's best guess was the armored pegasus with the longsword, was perhaps the best fighter among them.

“Good,” Cedar said. “That's what I like to hear, the fewer of those monsters there are, the better. I’ll contact the buyer, and get you good gentlecolts paid.”

A cheer went up, and the ponies quickly scattered to eat, drink, and be merry.

“Storm! Front and center!” Cedar called before the ponies got too far, and the armored pegasus quickly walked up and saluted. “Sir!”

“Mouse, come here,” the Commander of the branch called.

He wandered over.

“Mouse, did you read over the team policy of the orientation document?” Cedar asked.

“I read something about teams of two, yes, sir.”

“Well, not only do we have teams of two, we also set up a mentor system,” Cedar explained. “In short, your team member knows the ropes, and is going to show them to you until you're ready to take on your own teammate, but that's not for a while yet.”

Cedar then turned to the pegasus. “Storm, are you ready for this?”

The pegasus practically bristled with pride. “Sir! Yes, sir.”

“Good, then meet your apprentice. Mouse, likewise your mentor.”

Mouse nodded, and gave a slight bow.

Storm did the same.

Cedar smiled. “Alright, good to see you’re getting along. Strom, take him to the training ring, and see what he’s made of.”

“Yes, sir,” Storm answered, before he pulled the stallion asde. “Come on, Mouse, is it?”

Mouse nodded.

“Alright, let's get you in the pit.”

Storm led Mouse around, while the unicorn was doing his best to try and read the pegasus’ demeanor. He didn't seem unfriendly, despite his short, clipped sentences, but he didn't seem open, either, despite the smile on his face. The odd combination made it difficult guess how the armored flyer thought.

Finally, they came to the pit.

A foot-deep depression in the ground filled with sand, some of it still stained red from the occasional blow that landed harder than intended. Mouse found a lone tooth sticking up out of the shallow dunes, lost from its owner long ago.

“Are you formally trained?” Storm asked.

“No, sir. I’ve learned a bit, but not much.”

“Well let’s see what you’ve learned then,” Storm said, hovering over the pit and drawing his blade.

Mouse drew his short sword.

“We're just using the flats, no edges,” Storm said, before giving a wide, slow swing.

Mouse raised his blade, and moved closer, trying to move in on the open side of the swing.

“Very good,” Storm said with a nod. “You know how to move.”

Slowly but surely, they worked their way up to a spar, both swinging and at each other as fast as they dared while blocking, parrying and moving.

Anyone who watched, however, could see that Storm held the obvious advantage. Even slowing himself down left him faster than Mouse by a not-insignificant margin. Still, neither of them stopped, not until Storm suddenly disengaged, and said. “Enough, enough. Well done, Mouse.”

Both ponies sheathed their swords, and stepped out of the pit. “Despite your lack of training, you know your stance and your footwork,” Storm said. “Of course, that is arguably the hardest part of the fight, so well done. Your strikes need more work, but you have the endurance to last a whole fight without falling to your knees. Overall, I have to say you learned much for not having formal training.”

“Well,” Mouse began. “I saw a few knights fight in a tournament years ago, and picked up a few things.”

“Really?” Storm asked. “Do you know what knights?”

Mouse paused a moment. “N-no, I can't remember, it was years ago.”

Storm nodded. “I see. Well, anyway, let me show you to your bunk.”

The next week or so went by without incident. In fact, the past week had been nothing but bringing Mouse up to snuff. Hours a day were spent sparing, running drills and more all for the sake of the improvement Storm thought he needed.

Of course, Mouse wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. So as the week went by, Mouse began to slowly “improve,” and even managed to learn a few new things in the style Storm was teaching him.

Of course, Mouse didn’t spend the time idly.

There was very little privacy among the Company, and everyone slept in the same two rooms, one for the stallions, one for the mares. Even Cedar slept with everyone else, as a way of keeping morale high or somesuch. This made killing him in the night hard, since any sound or scream could alert the whole building that something was amiss and that there was an assassin among them.

The only time where Cedar was properly alone was when he was in his office, and even then, the only time when the door was closed was when he was receiving a report. So, considering that he had this armored pegasus attached to him, and therefore present for any report that would ever be given by him, he would need quite the opportunity to catch the massive earth pony alone.

Of course, these were secondary at the moment. First and foremost he needed to earn the trust of the Company.

So far, that front was progressing well. Mouse could practically see the approval growing in Storm, as he improved in his form and power. It was exactly what he needed.

In another week, Storm thought Mouse was ready. “Mouse, come here!”

Mouse obeyed.

“We going on your first job,” Storm said with pride.

“What?” Mouse asked, feigning surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Only one way to know for sure. Pack your things, we’re heading for Dark Wood.”

The Dark Wood was three days journey away, and stood like a massive wall of green on the horizon. Over those three days, Storm had explained the job, and done his best to prepare the new Company member.

They had been contracted to hunt down a troop of gnomes, wipe them out, and bring back their toes, caps, and eyes.

Supposedly the toes and eyes were useful alchemy ingredients, and the cap was a very fine fabric of a deep red color that could fetch a fine price on the market.

Although, this did leave the question of “what, by Luna is a gnome?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Storm told him, before they continued on.

Now, they were there, on the very cusp of the forest edge, making camp before they dived into the woods to search for these little beasts, and waiting for morning before they stepped into the forest for which they were named.

“Stew is ready,” Storm said, stirring a pot over the campfire as Mouse finished setting up the tent.

That news got Mouse to smile. As a pony that starved for a good part of his life, and appreciated food to no end, Storm’s stew was simple, but delicious. He continued to smile, as he pulled the wooden bowl from his bag, and walked up to the pegasus and the pot, ready to receive the hearty broth.

Storm poured him a bowl, and one for himself, leaving just enough in the pot for half a bowl for each of them. “Enjoy,” Storm said, pulling the pot from off the center of the fire.

Mouse already was. Thick cuts of potato, carrots, celery and beans were greedily slurped up into Mouse's waiting mouth, while he eagerly drank the red broth down.

Storm smirked. “Glad to know you like it.”

Mouse nodded.

A moment of silence passed between them as they ate their soup, with only the crackling of fire and the sound of horn spoons clacking against the wooden bowls.

“So how did you get your name?” Storm asked.

Mouse nearly choked on his stew as the question hit his ears, and his mind began to race. What did he mean by that? Was he implying that he knew that Mouse was false pretense? Or was it simply a gamble to try and get him to stumble? Or was it an innocent question, and he was just overthinking a simple thing?

Now terrified at whatever could be said, Mouse looked up and asked. “What do you mean?”

“Mouse isn’t really a normal name.”

Mouse began to reach for his sword as slowly, carefully, and as stealthily as he could manage.

“I’m just curious,” Storm said. “Personally, I took the name Storm several years back, so I understand.”

“Wait…” Mouse said, leaving the sword where it lay. “Storm isn’t your real name?”

“No, I was somepony else before. Then I became a squire to a knight, and he insisted that I changed my name to something more ‘heroic,’ as he put it.”

“Oh...well…”

Storm nodded, before motioned for Mouse to continue.

“Right, um...Mouse was a nickname, given to me by a few bullies, and I...hit my head. I forgot my real name, and have gone by Mouse ever since,” Mouse said.

“You’ve forgotten?” Storm asked.

Mouse nodded.

“That's a shame.”

Mouse shrugged. “It's what I know.”

Storm nodded, and poured himself another half a bowl of soup.

Morning came and they quickly packed up their camp, and Mouse took his first dive into the Dark Wood.

The old, massive trees around him groaned as the wind pulled on the highest branches in the unseen canopy. Faint cries of strange, and unseen beasts barely pierced the the foliage, leaving everything muted and quiet. The thick, light-blocking trees reached up to the sky with long, jagged, leaf-covered claws, and the smell of decay, sweet sap, and the occasional, overpowering scent of pine wafted under his nose.

In all his time in Equestria, Mouse never thought he find another place like the Canterlot jail.

The air felt claustrophobic here, and the trees were almost closing in on him from all sides. The darkness of the forest was almost all consuming, and the vines that snaked from tree to tree and across the paths threatened to trip him at every step. Mist, protected by the banishing sun, wafted around him like a gossamer veil, leaving him blind beyond ten feet.

“Mouse,” Storm called from his left, making the smaller unicorn jump from the broken silence. “This way.”

Mouse tried to follow, pushing his way through the thick, unyielding underbrush, after the armored pegasus whose armor gave the occasional clink, and whose sword glinted among the black trunks of the willow-like trees.

“How do we find the gnomes?” Mouse asked, swinging his shortsword at a branch as though to punctuate his question. “How can you even track with all this bush?”

“You need to listen,” Storm said in a whisper, flying just above the undergrowth, and just under the grasping branches of the trees. “Gnomes are incredibly loud, we will hear them when we get close.”

“So...what do we do in the a meantime? Do we just wander around until we hear them or…?”

“Gnomes live in very specific areas. They need clearings for grass, and sunlight. I spend a few minutes scouting for a clearing from the sky this morning while you were packing up camp.”

Mouse blinked. “So he wasn’t abandoning me to get out of work?”

“I saw one further in in this direction,” Storm said, pointing ahead of them with his longsword.

Mouse nodded, before he finally spoke again. “Glad to know that we’re not wandering aimlessly, I suppose.”

Storm shook his head. “I don’t do aimless anymore.”

Anymore? That sounded...well, like there was a story behind it, really.

Mouse decided not to ask, but kept quiet as he tried to cut his way after the low-flying pegasus.

What seemed like hours passed, with Mouse forcing his way through the bush and vines, before Storm suddenly stopped him. “Hush. Do you hear that?”

Mouse paused, listening intently, before a sound wafted to him on the wind. Screeches, whoops, and hollers pierced through the trees, barely audible for the thick plant life all around them.

“Yeah, I hear it. I thought you said they were loud, though?”

“They are, they're still a half a mile away from us. It's how they keep their dens safe. They scare away basically everything around them with the racket,” Storm explained.

Mouse shook his head. “I’m amazed that works.”

“Come on,” Storm said. “We still have a way to go, and the woods will not make this easy.”

Following behind Storm, the pair kept moving, heading closer and closer to the din that the terrible things were making. “Wait for my attack,” Storm ordered, as they got ever closer to the gnome’s clearing. “Once I make my move, make sure they don’t leave through the gate?”

“Gate? What gate?”

“You’ll understand when you see it,” Storm said.

Mouse didn’t argue, but simply kept cutting his way through the thick vegetation around him.

Time passed, and the gnomes got louder and louder, until finally, they were on the clearing, and Mouse saw the gnomes for the first time.

Hideous, stumpy, and furless things, the gnomes yelled, whistled, barked, and otherwise imitiated noisemakers to no end, as they ran about a sunlit clearing of grass and flowers. Their flat faces and bulbous cheeks wiggled and bounced as they rushed from one side of the clearing to the other, and they stumpy forelegs ended in small, fleshy, harmless-looking claws.

Strangely enough, the only thing that seemed civilized about them was their clothing. Bright cloths of green, red, blue and more covered their small bodies, but the strangest thing of all was the bright red, cone-like caps that were nearly as tall as they were.

Using primitive tools, the gnomes were busy building houses, while others took them apart, in a constant cycle of busy work that was as pointless as it was tedious.

Taking a moment to look around at the clearing, Mouse quickly found where he was supposed to be. The whole gnome village, if it could be called one, sat in a strange depression in the ground that was as deep as a gnome was tall. The only way in for something that tall was a small, gate-like pass that had to be gnome-made.

Storm gave him a look.

He nodded, and the pegasus quickly leapt up into the air.

And Mouse waited for the signal.

A few minutes of listening to the hideous, agonizing din, before finally, Storm struck.

Falling like a lightning bolt from above, Storm slashed into the gnomes. Panic erupted from the little monsters in a moment, and they immediately began running crazed circles, before they began running for the gate.

And Mouse stood in the gate.

And he cut the gnomes, the hideous, noisy, annoying, terrified creatures like grass.

Mouse was quiet on the trip back.

Storm carried the bag of caps, eyes, and toes, but the way he kept looking back at Mouse told he unicorn he was worried about him. Once they were finally out of the forest, and setting up camp, Storm spoke up. “Are you alright, Mouse?”

“Hm?” Mouse hummed, looking up from the tent he was setting up.

“You’ve been quiet. Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. I just...they seemed helpless there is all.”

Storm nodded. “Gnomes on the warpath are something else entirely. Don't worry, Mouse, you did the right thing, trust me.”

Mouse nodded, and turned back to his work, and smiled as he surprised himself.

He couldn't believe he managed to say that with a straight face.

Chapter 23

They had another job.

Up north, by the Unicorn Range in the Great Galloping Gorge, a terrible beast was plaguing the people of a nearby town that lay on the way to nearby Vanhoover. A terrible beast with a head of a great cat, a goat, and a terrible snake for a tail. “The chimera must fall, or be sent back to the Dark Wood,” Cedar ordered.

If only it were so simple.

Spring was just around the corner, and though the weather was getting warmer, it still froze on some nights, which was most certainly not ideal for travel. Still, this is where Mouse found himself, sitting by the side of the road, in a tent that was a touch small for two, trying to keep the morning frost at bay.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the ground was wet with melting frost. It offered no protection, and sapped his strength away, even as Storm, who had not yet gotten his armor on, poked and prodded last night’s fire back to life. Mouse climbed up, miserable for the dew that took every ounce of warmth from him, and sat next to the now-revived coals. “Mornen…” Mouse muttered.

“Morning,” Storm answered, enunciating as he always did.

“What’s breakfast?” Mouse asked, pulling his wineskin to wash the taste of the road out of his mouth.

“Rations, as per the usual,” Storm answered.

Mouse groaned.

“Oh, stop it,” he scolded. “This is a good breakfast. Besides, we’ll be approaching Splithoof soon, and we should be able to have a few pickings of their winter wheat fields.”

“It’s not the food, Storm. It’s the travel. If we had been going to the Dark Wood, we would have been back by now.”

“Oh? Yearn for a warm, comfortable bed do you? I’m sorry, I thought you were for the adventure,” the pegasus responded, sarcastically.

“I signed up for a job,” Mouse grumbled to himself.

“And this is a part of that job,” Storm said, as he readied a pan to begin warming the hardtack they had been living off of for the past two weeks now. “No job is without difficulties, and no task is without suffering. This is one of the most important lessons I ever learned.”

Mouse sighed, before he sat down at the fire, waiting for his food and warming his bones by the fire.

As he sat and waited, his eyes were gradually drawn over to the cutie mark that sat one Storm’s flank, a shining shield and a bundle of cloth. Normally covered by his armor, this was probably one of the few times Mouse had seen the full mark, and now that he had seen it, his curiosity had been peaked.

The shield made sense enough, he was a fighter, a protector, and whatever other nonsense came with such a martial mark. No, it was the cloth that really caught his eye. What did that mean? Did he have a calling for polishing armor? For upkeep? If so was adventuring around just his way of wearing the armor down so he could repair it again? If not then why was he here and not back at the Canterlot branch helping the smith? And while we’re on the subject…

“How many Darkwood Company branches are there?” Mouse asked.

Storm didn’t even look up from his pan. “Three. One in Canterlot, one on the border of the Darkwood, in a small hamlet called Trotden, and one in Manehatten.”

“Is that why we’re doing this? Because there’s no Vanhoover branch?” Mouse asked.

“Not yet,” Storm said, flipping one of the hardtack pieces as it began to grow darker and crispier. “No, Cedar’s actually been working on opening up a Vanhoover branch.”

“So that’s why we’ve been sent…” Mouse muttered. “We’re here to convince them we’re a worthwhile investment.”

“We’re here,” Storm said. “Because protecting ponies is the right thing to do. If we manage to convince the city that we’re worthwhile on the way there, well, that’s simply a bonus.”

Mouse nodded. “Well at least they make some sense.”

He went silent after that, and before long, he was eating his toasted, long-lasting hardtack, and back on the road again.

They moved as fast as they could, or at least, as fast as Mouse could, being burdened down by a tent, bedrolls, their rations, and the cutlery. Storm, meanwhile, walked beside him, dressed in his polished, but worn armor, and keeping an eye for trouble.

He was the more experienced fighter, he said, so he would watch for any sign of danger, while Mouse would carry the equipment, and unfortunately, Mouse would have to agree. He was used to catching the enemy by surprise. Quick attacks to vital, if sometimes hard to reach, areas on the body. Storm was better in a straight fight, though, that was clear to see. So, he kept watch, ready to attack, Mouse carried the camp, and he didn’t argue.

Storm, meanwhile, glared at the horizon with his steely-grey eyes and a practiced, prepared glare. His sword sat in it’s sheath, but it was ready to come out at a moment’s notice. He was the perfect image of combat readiness.

“Do you always wear a cloak?” he asked suddenly, nearly causing the smaller unicorn to leap out of his skin.

“What?”

“A cloak, do you always wear one?” Storm repeated. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a cloak.”

Mouse opened his mouth to answer, to defend himself, before he suddenly began to question what was in need of defending. So what if he always wore cloaks? So what if he hadn’t stopped wearing a cloak since he started back when he picked his first off the dead cultist that tried to kill Princess Platinum.

“T-they’re warm,” he said simply.

“I’m sure they are,” Storm said. “I’m not saying such a thing is wrong, I’m just saying you should probably wash it is all.”

Mouse said nothing, but looked away with the slightest hint of shame creeping into his cheeks.

“I wouldn't worry about it right now, however. The wool will only stretch and become heavy. You’ll have to wait until we leave back for Canterlot.”

“You sound like an expert on the matter.”

Storm smiled. “I have some experience with it.”

“Experience?” Mouse asked.

“I was a squire,” Storm explained. “I worked for a knight when I was young. He taught me everything I know, including how to take care of a woolen cloak.”

“A squire? And wait, isn’t the knight the Unicornian thing?”

Storm smirked. “It is a Unicornian thing, yes,” he said, keeping his eyes open. “A squire is a knight in training, brought up by the knight so that he could learn the proper care of arms, armor, and how to fight. Like I said, my lord taught me everything I know.”

Mouse furrowed his brow. “So...how did a pegasus become a squire to a knight?”

“That’s…” Storm began. “That’s a long story…”

“Well, we have the time,” Mouse pointed out.

Storm didn’t answer.

“Storm?”

“I’ll...I’ll tell you later, alright, Mouse?”

Mouse blinked, surprised.

Well, well. It almost sounded like Cedar’s golden boy had a few secrets himself. That was most interesting.

And possibly something that he could exploit.

Storm didn’t say a word all the way up to the gorge. Not a hint about what he knew, not a word about how he had become a squire, just constantly bringing up the chimera and the best way to attack it. Mouse had heard the same speech about attacking the beast from both sides to be as safe as possible at least eight times, but not a word on what he wanted to hear.

Now it was too late. They were in the gorge, where snow still clung to the shadowed depths of the deep gouge that ran through the earth. The sun was just beginning to peak over the lip of the gorge, and noon daylight finally dawned in the bottom of the gorge.

“Remember, we attack from the side,” Storm said again.

“I heard you,” Mouse said, before they began to move.

The crunch of the the snow beneath their hooves was the only sound in the gorge as they moved, weapons drawn, towards the northern end of the gorge.

“Well, there’s good news, anyway,” Storm muttered under his breath. “It looks like we won’t need to deal with any Quarry Eels.”

“What?” Mouse asked.

“Massive, land-based eels that dig into the sides of gorges. There are a bunch in Ghastly Gorge south of the Dark Wood,” Storm explained. “Nasty things.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mouse muttered.

As they kept moving forward slowly, keeping their approach cautious, Mouse kept his eyes on the walls, and his ears peaked for any sign of the chimera.

Silence practically echoed off the walls of the ravine, showing no sign of the monster as Mouse kept pushing forward. Then he heard it, a terrible, leonine roar shook the walls, shaking a few pebbles loose that quickly tumbled and rattled down into the snowy floor below.

Storm looked over to him, before he pushed himself into the air, hooves gripping the long-handled blade.

Mouse followed behind.

As they kept moving more and more signs of the chimera appeared. First came the tracks. Large paws and split hooves crisscrossed along the snow, leaving little doubt that the chimera had been using the gorge as a stomping ground for a few months at least. After that, there were a few stones, scratched by large horns, and powerful claws, along with a few shed snake skins.

It wasn’t until they got to the bones that Mouse was really beginning to worry. Gnawed bones littered the gorge floor now, ranging in size from the sucked-clean mouse skull to ribs longer than Mouse’s foreleg.

How much did this thing eat anyway?

Looking ahead, they finally caught sight of where the Chimera had been. A wide open cave sat in the wall of the gorge, surrounded by bone totems and the stench of rotting meat. For a second, Mouse wondered if the Chimera was still in the cave, before he heard his answer.

“Shut up! Shut up the both of you!” a voice roared from the cave. “I can’t take another word out of you two!”

“I will be heard!” another, deep masculine voice shouted. “We are staying here!”

“We need to move on! There is nothing more here! We head into the pony town and wipe them out!”

“You’re going to get us all killed.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Storm hovered close. “Sounds like their having an argument. We can use this to cover the sound of our approach, so we can get the upper hand.”

Mouse nodded, trying not to show that he already thought of that.

Mouse got low, coming around toward the cave in a wide arc to better cover his approach. The arguing continued on, growling, roaring and hissing at each other as the pair of ponies got closer. “Those ponies are in our territory! They’re good food! They should be ours!”

“I’m not leaving! I refuse!”

“Shut up the both of you!”

“You just don’t want to leave because I want to!”

“Not everything is about you!”

Mouse finally got to the mouth of the cave, and peeked in. A massive creature, part lion, part goat, with a tail of a snake paced along the back of the cave, which seemed far more shallow than its mouth would suggest.

The tail was wrapped around itself, as though it were covering its ears, while its eyes were screwed shut. Meanwhile, facing away from the cave mouth, the lion and goat continued their argument. “Ponies make good food,” argued the lion head. “Better than the deer and rabbits we normally get. Besides, serves them right for coming into our territory.”

“And I don’t want to leave!” the goat shouted back.

Mouse looked over to Storm, who was gauging the beast still.

The lion head roared again, only for the goat head to ram it, butting it's massive horns and thick skull against its feline brother. The skulls audibly clacked together as bone hit bone, and the snake shivered as it felt the impact travel down their shared spine.

Storm motioned forward.

Mouse and Storm both began to inch forward into the cave, closer to the chimera, one to each side. Storm hovered over the bone-riddled floor, while Mouse moved from stone to stone and cover to cover.

The chimera roared and head-butted itself again, and again the snake shook as the blow traveled down its body. It bared its fangs angrily, hissing with fury, before it suddenly shot up. “Stop it! Stop it both you, I...I…”

It stared, blinking, up at Storm.

“Intruder!” The snake suddenly yelled, and both lion and goat head snapped to attention and spun itself around to face the armored pegasus.

“See?” the goat asked. “We don't need to go anywhere to find delicious ponies.”

The lion said nothing, but its eyes did narrow, and its teeth were bared.

Mouse cursed, and bolted from his cover, rushing the chimera’s side. The goat head grinned, and lowered its horns, leaving Mouse with the option to stop, of be impaled on the long, straight horns of the ram.

Skidding to a halt, Mouse tried to stab down on the chimera's side, only for the goat head to turn, reach, and parry with its massive horns.

The snake also raised up, hissing with venom dripping from its wide, open, angry mouth. It struck at him, forcing Mouse back at a distance.

Storm charged from above, using the world-famous martial prowess of the pegasi against the beast, but it swiped with powerful lion claws, and bit down with terrifying power. Storm’s longsword gave him the reach advantage, and by sticking closer to the flank, he was safe from the lion’s deadly bite.

Storm brought his blade down on the chimera's flank, and all three heads roared in pain before the snake turned, striking at Storm with its superior reach.

Mouse saw the opening, and moved back in, staying close to the monster’s flank as it it tried to spin and face the pests head on. It wasn't enough, though, and Mouse got a good hit in.

Again, the chimera roared, and as it did, the goat head opened wide, revealing a warm, orange light in the back of its throat. Mouse blinked, before the heat forced him to leap away. A roaring jet of flame erupted from the goat’s mouth, singeing Mouse's fur, and burning a hole through his cloak.

“It breathes fire?” Mouse screamed, as the lion began to spew flame from its own mouth.

“Keep attacking!” Storm yelled.

“It breathes fire!” Mouse yelled back. “You never told me that it breathes fire!”

“Just keep hitting it!”

Mouse groaned, before he tried again, dodging the snake tail as it struck at him again. The snake hissed angrily, trying desperately to inject its terrible, and fatal venom into Mouse’s hide.

Storm attacked from the other side, bringing his blade down on the flank again, forcing the snake to change its focus to the armored pegasus, giving Mouse an opening once again. Dodging the angry horns of the goat head, he dived for the chimera’s flank, only for a gout of flare to leap out of its mouth, and engulf the unicorn.

“Mouse!” Storm cried, worry on his voice, before he brought his blade down on the snake head.

And then Mouse leapt from the flame, practically unharmed. His armor glinted and glowed with a slight red aura as the enchantment on the padded linen ate the flame whole. He swung his blade out, aiming for the goat head, growling. “Stop doing that!”

Storm blinked, surprised that Mouse was not only alive, but relatively unhurt, before he began his onslaught again. They both threw themselves at the chimera, staying as close as possible as it try to move away, tried to spin to get an angle on them, tried everything it could to bring the ponies down.

Blood gushed from the open flanks, pouring onto the ground making the stone slippery and wet. The ponies and monster all danced around each other, trying to save themselves from a dangerous fall as they went back and forth.

The terrible lion claws of the beast swiped wildly, catching Storm’s armor and throwing him to the ground, while the goat’s horn stabbed into Mouse’s shoulder, but his magic held strong, and now the creature’s neck was wide open.

A last mournful bleat escaped its mouth before the second head died, and now, with its body open in ways it had never imagined, and the blood it was losing from every side, the chimera was beginning to slow. It roared, screamed, and tried to take at least one of the ponies down with it, but it was far too late for that.

Mouse sighed.

He lifted his cloak from the stream, and frowned as he saw the massive holes that had been burned into it. It was ruined, and no amount of washing could save it. Sighing again, he folded what was left of the fabric and packed it in his bag before heading back to camp.

The camp sat just across the road from one of the fields of Splithoof. Storm had already spoken to the farmer, and had permission to use some of the oats at the corners of the fields, and was cooking some of those oates into a stew.

“Well, it’s ruined,” Mouse said, walking up to him.

“I’m sorry about that, Mouse, but honestly, I’m happy you’re alive,” Storm said, looking up from his pot at the unicorn dressed in a simple gambeson. “How did you afford that armor, though? That’s no small feat.”

“It was a gift,” Mouse said.

“A gift? That is quite the kingly gift.”

Well, it technically was a gift, just to himself from himself.

“It’s one I’m very thankful for,” Mouse said.

Storm nodded, and went back to his pot before his eyes shot up again. “You...you don’t have a cutie mark.”

Mouse shrugged. “No, I don’t.”

“I…” Storm began. “I...I never thought I’d meet another one.”

“Another one?” Mouse asked.

“I’m...I was much like you once,” Storm said.

Mouse blinked, now very confused.

“I didn’t have a cutie mark until a year ago myself. I…” he began, only to trail off, so shocked at the sight in front of him. “I never actually thought…”

“Storm? Are you alright?” Mouse asked.

“I...I need to tell you a story,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “I need to tell you the story. Sit, sit, please.”

Mouse sat, confused.

Storm opened his mouth. “No. Not yet. I can’t yet.”

Mouse blinked. “Alright, Storm, you’re really starting to scare me now.”

The pegasus muttered to himself for a long second, before he sighed, and turned back to Mouse, his face as calm and collected as it had ever been. “Mouse, I cannot tell you now, but I want you to know, I understand.”

Mouse blinked. “Okay…”

And Storm didn’t bring it up again.

The moment they got back to Canterlot, Strom sent Mouse on his way, back to the Dark Wood Company building to give his report.

Ghost couldn’t believe his luck. Three jobs, and already his “mentor” already trusted him enough to deliver the message himself. It was the perfect opportunity for him to move, and kill Cedar. It was not a chance to pass up. He had to make the move now, or spend who knows how long on these life-threatening jobs until he was either killed, or found out.

He made it back to the company building, avoiding Polar and Copper, and made his way directly to Cedar’s office.

The second floor of the Dark Wood Company building has a small waiting room, attached to which was Cedar’s office. At any given time, this room was filled with a dozen ponies buying their services, and a dozen more teams returning from their own jobs. The constant flow of ponies coming in and out of the office was enough for Cedar to declare it as a business room only. Anything that wasn’t business was not to be discussed or even thought about being brought up in that room.

This wouldn’t be that big of a problem for Ghost if not for two things. The first was that all business typically was presented by the mentor of the team, which meant that unless Ghost was willing spend years rising through the ranks, or killing his mentor while out in the middle of nowhere, he wasn’t going to have an opportunity to get in. The other problem was that the office was the only he could get Cedar alone.

But now he had it. This stroke of sheer luck had delivered Cedar straight to his hooves. So, with a smile, Ghost walked straight up to Cedar’s office, and walked into Cedar’s office.

And met three ponies sitting around the desk.

“Oh, Mouse!” Cedar said. “Good to see you, these are the leaders of the other Company Branches. Gentlecolts, this is one of our latest recruits, Mouse. He just got back from a job. Where’s Storm?”

“He went into town,” Mouse said, “and left me to give the report.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to wait,” Cedar said, before motioning to the other ponies. “We have a lot of business to get to, and not enough time to do. I’ll take you tomorrow, alright?”

Mouse nodded. “Of course, I understand,” he said, before he stepped out of the room, mentally cursing the whole way.

It seemed luck was not with him again.

As he walked along, however, he soon saw Storm approaching him. “Mouse! Come here!”

Sighing, and doing his best to look like he wasn’t trying to kill his boss, he obeyed. ”Yes?”

“I got you this,” Storm said, before draping a fine linen cloak around Mouse’s withers. The royal blue cloak draped around him perfectly,and the gold trim caught the light in the hall of the second floor of the building.

Mouse blinked. “You...got me this?”

Storm nodded.

“But...isn’t this blue a really expensive dye?”

“Don’t worry about price. This is a gift.”

Mouse didn’t need to worry about price. He knew it this cloak cost a hundred and ten gold bits. He saw a similar one in Vanhoover.

“I...I…”

“Like I said, it’s a gift.”

And it was. It was an amazing gift. Better than one he could get himself.

Chapter 24

Another month passed, and Spring had come into its own. The land was green and beautiful, with wildflowers blooming in every field. Mouse had never seen the world in such greens, and the whole country of Equestria was full of life.

Farmers were sowing their fields, and pegasi were following after them, water the fresh dirt with rain clouds, while unicorns slowly calculated the path of the sun, and the coming warmth of the season. Together, they would double the output of any Earthonian field, and quadruple both Unicornian and Pegasopolan field.

It really made Mouse believe that Equestria could work. This whole thing, the thing that Clover the Clever sacrificed herself for, could work.

He quickly pushed that thought away, and focused again on the task ahead of him. They had a relatively straightforward task. Take on a small pack of timberwolves that had pushed northward to the outskirts of Canterlot.

Storm was with him, walking beside him his weapons ready and his armor gleaming, while telling him everything he could about the targets. “Timberwolves are creatures of living wood, that thirst for the flesh of the living. While the majority of their bodies are logs and branches, their limbs are made of green vine. This is where you have to strike.”

Mouse nodded, listening.

“This shouldn't be a problem for you, you have the accuracy to hit the targets, but do your best to do keep your distance, their fangs are covered in a toxic sap that will nurture an infection, as well as poison you.”

And he just kept going. Ever since the chimera job, Storm had began talking more and more. He was always there to adjust Mouse’s strikes in training, or covered his back at every opportunity. It was becoming slightly annoying, if he were being honest. Still, the help was nice, and Mouse really did like his new cloak.

Ghost’s plan was moving forward as well. With every new job, he was gaining more and more trust. He was gaining more and more access to the Company building, and with Storm conveniently keeping Polar and Copper off his back, it left many doors, both physical and metaphorical, open.

Still, Cedar had never been alone and easily accessible.

“This will make a good camp,” Storm said suddenly, breaking Mouse from his thoughts.

It was already dusk, the red-golds of the setting sun splashing across the sky, the time had passed them by faster than he realized. Realizing that he had let the past few hours pass him by, he took a moment to look around.

Storm pointed down at a small copse of pine trees that sat beside a small, crystal clear lake. The grass beside the trees and lake was fresh, green and springy. The ground would be soft, easy to sleep on, the trees would offer shelter from the wind, and the lake would be plenty of water to make their wine last.

“Go ahead and begin to set up camp, I’ll get the fire started.” Storm ordered.

Mouse obeyed without an audible complaint, and got to work setting up the tent. As he began to unroll the canvas cloths that made the tents, Mouse kept his focus around him, watching the horizon for any sign of something that could possibly come after them. It was more habit than worry, but it was one that Storm had taught him everyday he had been mentoring him.

Before long, the two quickly set up, and were ready to spend the night. A simple stew was being cooked, with a few chunks of potato thrown in for good measure, while both ponies nibbled on some grass.

“Do you want first or second watch?” Storm asked.

“First,” Mouse said.

“I still don’t know why you like it,” Storm muttered back, before he nodded. “Alright, you know when to wake me.”

Mouse nodded.

They ate, relaxed, and Strom went to sleep. Mouse stayed up, watching the horizon as the darkness encroached around him, getting ever deeper with every passing moment. Night was upon him in an instant, and the moon was rising.

His watch passed by without incident, and before long, he was ready to change shifts.

Not a minute later, he was asleep, and falling into darkness.

“Mouse, Mouse, wake up!” Storm called.

Rousing from his sleep, Mouse untangled himself from his bedroll, and stepped out of the tent. The crisp, spring morning met him, and the faint smell of oats coaxed him from his slumber.

Yet, he saw no sign of Storm.

He looked around, and still couldn’t find him.

“Storm? Storm? Where are you?” Mouse called.

And then he felt steel through his chest.

He looked down, and saw his own crescent-bladed knife through his chest.

“So how does it feel assassin?” Storm asked, appearing behind him. “How does it feel to be betrayed so easily?”

“S-Storm?” Mouse stuttered, trying to speak as he felt the daggers eat the magic out of his body. “W-why?” he asked, blood filling his mouth.

“Because it’s what you were going to do to us. Don’t even pretend that you weren’t going to stab me in the back! This is what you wanted, and it has come back on you in full force. This is what you brought on yourself!”

Mouse fell, staring up at the sky, trying to see through the blood.

“This is the end for you. This is the end, Mouse.”

Mouse stared up at the knife and the sky, his eyes beginning to glaze over as Storm laughed.

“Why?” Clover the Clever asked. “Why? You were supposed to be a hero, and instead you turn you back on you destiny? Why?”

Mouse tried to answer, but only gurgled as blood pooled in his mouth.

“You’ve doomed us all.”

And then he started awake.

“Are you alright, Mouse?” Storm asked from outside.

It was still dark outside, and the night air was chilly, clinging to his blankets, Mouse sat up, before he finally answered. “Yeah, yeah...just...just a dream.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the temple? Pray to Luna, ask for an interpretation?” Storm asked, poking his head inside.

Mouse nodded. “I’m sure.”

Storm stared at him. “They been plaguing you for the past week, this isn’t normal.”

“I-I know…” he said. “Not...not right now, we have a job, right?”

Storm gave him another look, before he pulled back outside to his watch.

Mouse lay back down, and stared up at the tent. He pushed the dreams from his mind again, and asked Luna for protection from his nightmares. He didn’t have time to think about them. He didn’t want to think about them, and the only thing that had been more invasive, more intrusive, and more persistent had been the nagging image of Clover the Clever dying in front of him, proposing that he would be a great hero of Equestria.

And yet here he was…

Turning on his side, and pulling his blanket over him, he stared at the tent wall until he finally fell asleep.

Mouse yawned.

He just barely had enough sleep last night, and was still groggy as he carried the tent on his back.

Storm had taken the vanguard as usual, leading the pair forward down, closer and closer to what he suspected was the den of the beasts. Mouse still wasn’t sure that they would live this far out and still cause problems, but Storm insisted that they would.

“Especially in Spring,” he explained. “With all the sun, rain, and warmth that comes flooding in with Spring, the timberwolves become more active.”

Active enough to travel miles of rolling hills in a day? Mouse certainly didn’t believe it, but then again, that’s probably what made it true. Equestria as a whole had proved him wrong enough, might as well add another line on the list.

Storm suddenly crouched, and motioned with his hoof to drop the tent.

Mouse did so as quietly as possible.

Together, they stood there, frozen just behind a large bush which was cover enough to hide whatever Storm had seen from Mouse’s eyes. As they sat crouched, Storm slowly drew his own sword.

“What is it? What do you see?” Mouse asked.

“Timberwovles,” Storm whispered. “I was right.”

Mouse slid up beside him, and peeked over the underbrush, before his eyes saw the monsters. They looked like puppets at first glance. Crude marionettes that danced like wolves. They stayed low to the ground, their knot-like noses sniffing the air as their sap-covered fangs dripped into the grass.

There was something else about, something that added a strange wrongness about them. They moved too fast. Not lightning fast, not blindingly fast, but just fast enough that it could be noticed.

It was terribly unsettling.

Mouse watched, fascinated, as the timberwolves moved.

Storm sighed. “I hate timberwolf season,” he muttered, before he pointed Mouse toward one of the monsters, the largest of them. “That’s the alpha,” he explained quickly. “Take it out, and the others will break.”

“Are you sure?” Mouse asked.

“This isn’t the first time,” Storm whispered back, “now, follow me.”

He suddenly rushed forward, giving his greatest battle cry as he brought his longsword down in a terrible chop onto the alpha’s head.

Mouse followed just behind, bringing his blade to bear against the joints, as he had been taught. They rushed around the alpha, with Storm staying at its back, just behind the nape of the neck, while Mouse dashed between its legs, slicing away with his shortsword. Vines snapped, and sap poured from the open wounds, even as the other wolves ran up to defend their leader.

“Mouse! Get the others!” Storm yelled.

He dived for the first one that was running up to him. With an expert slash, he sliced the running wolf’s unguarded neck, and was going to make an attack on the next before being forced back by the attacking canine plants.

Mouse turned all his attention on the pack, turning to all his training to hold the eighteen wolves off long enough for Storm to end the alpha.

He danced in the mess of vine, leaf, and wood, his short sword chopping through oak, pine, and maple as he tried to beat the timberwolves back. Vines snapped like veins, and sap poured like blood as their fangs clapped together like blocks of wood.

Behind him, Storm was moving, slashing down into the monster’s flank, legs, and neck, trying to bring it down. Life-sap poured from the alpha like a waterfall, but still it stood, growling and snapping at anything within reach.

Snapping, the timberwolf tried to get at the pegasus that hovered behind his head, growling at snarling uselessly up at Storm.

Storm raised his longsword, and drove it down into the timberwolf’s back, cutting deep, before the alpha roared, and turned to face Mouse.

The alpha lurched forward, and Storm noticed a second too late. “Mouse!”

The smaller pony turned, staring up at the alpha as it's massive maw opened wide to bite down on him. The massive wooden fangs glistened with its toxic saliva, and began to close down on Mouse like a bear trap.

And then, as though the world had slowed, Mouse watched as Storm spun around the beast’s head, and throw his armored body into the monster’s jaw. The timberwolf’s bit slammed down on the pegasus, smashing into his armor with the force of a warhammer.

Storm grunted, before he drove his longsword into the alpha’s eye. It roared in pain, before Storm wrenched away out of the beast’s fangs, and drove his sword down into the alpha’s neck, all the way to the hilt. Then with a twist, the head separated from its body.

The pack looked on in shock, unable to believe what they just saw.

Or maybe Mouse couldn’t believe what he just saw.

Either way, the pack ran a moment later, scattering and yapping back south, toward the Dark Wood.

Storm forced himself up, leaning on his sword as his wings pushed himself slightly into the air. “Are you alright, Mouse?”

“Am I alright?” he asked. “What about you? You stuffed yourself into its mouth!”

“It’s alright,” Storm said, standing up, revealing a massive blood stain on his armor. “He didn’t get through my breastplate.”

“Like Tartarus he didn’t!” Mouse yelled.

Storm waved him off. “I’ll be fine.”

And then he fell over and landed in the sap-covered grass.

“Sweet Luna!” Mouse cried, before he rushed to Storm’s side, picking him up and rolling him onto his smaller back.

Storm vomited over his side.

Ghost knew what was happening. The poison was working quickly. He needed to move quickly if he was going to save Storm’s life.

But then...why would he?

Storm slowly woke up. He lay on a bedroll under the tent, sweat covering his brow and hooves shaking.

“Mouse? Mouse?” Storm called.

He appeared in the tent opening. “Storm?”

“Mouse...Mouse I need to know…”

“Know? Know what?” Mouse asked.

“Will I make it? I need to know if I can still carry—” he choked. “—this burden.”

“Burden?” Mouse asked for a second, before he shook his head. “No, Storm, I’ve been taken care of you. As long as we get back to town by tomorrow you’ll be fine.”

“Mouse, Mouse listen…This is important, you need to know this if I don’t make it.”

“You’ll make it Storm, you’ll make it.”

“No!” Storm yelled, using all his strength. “You need to hear this.”

Mouse went quiet.

“If I don’t make it, you need to carry this legacy, and I only hope I did well enough that you can forgive what a horrible teacher I was,” he said, before he looked up at the ceiling of the tent.

Mouse listened.

“Ten years ago, I was nothing. I was wasting the prime of my life living in a tavern playing cards for days on end. I was worthless. Then one day, a knight entered the tavern, and after one of the card players insulted him, he destroyed everyone that tried to fight him, leaving only him, myself, and the tavern owner.

“He was like a whirlwind of death, and the moment the fight was over, he was back to being a noble. I was impressed, to say the least, and so I asked him if he needed a squire. He said no at first, but when he noticed the fact that I didn’t have a cutie mark, he let me follow him. He had me polish his armor for a year and a half before he let me pick up a blade.

“He began to teach me everything. The styles of combat for swords, axes, spears, and even the use of a body as a weapon as taught by pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies. He molded me into a warrior, one whose mind was as sharp as his balde. He made me what I am, and then he died.

“How it happened isn’t important right now, but I found my destiny working under him. I found out who I was as his student, and the last thing he told me to do, was pass along this legacy of a teacher and mentor, to help those like me, who lacked their mark, and who do not know their destiny. I need you to do the same for me, Mouse.”

Mouse blinked.

“Please Mouse, I need you to do this for me, if I don’t make it, I need you to carry this legacy on. Promise me you will.”

Mouse blinked again. “Uh...sure, I’ll do it.”

“Do you promise?” Storm asked, staring up at him from his bedroll.

“I promise,” he answered.

Storm nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Mouse. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good teacher like Steel. I’m sorry.”

Mouse said nothing.

Storm rolled over, muttering his apologies over and over again as his lucidity passed.

Ghost shook his head. It took a lot of focus to tell that story, what with all the pain he was in. In was a surprise he made it to the end without succumbing to the pain killers that Mouse had gave him.

Still, it was a wasted effort all the same.

Mouse carried Storm all the back to Canterlot, even as he lay on the cart he had bought from a farmer just the other day before Storm told his story. It was the only way he’d make the two day’s journey back in time.

Pulling up to the Dark Wood Company building, Mouse immediately called for an apothecary, crying that he needed help, and he needed it now. A whole team of ponies came down, all carrying Storm and his stuff up into the building. They rushed about Mouse, leaving him to watch as Storm was taken away, leaving him alone with the cart.

Cedar finally wandered out. “Mouse? What happened?”

Mouse opened his mouth.

“Actually, just come to my office. Tell me there.”

“Yes, sir,” Mouse said.

And Ghost smiled as Cedar disappeared back into the building.

He had been right, a wounded Storm was the perfect opportunity.

Up the stairs, following after the massive earth pony, Mouse quickly made his way to the office.

Cedar opened a tome before he sat at his desk, quill in hoof, and ready to write.

“Well sir, we found the timberwolves and killed the alpha,” Mouse explained. “However during the fight, Storm was wounded.

“I see,” Cedar muttered, writing the words as he heard them, blind to the fact that Mouse was getting closer.

And then, in a single, painless motion, Ghost’s long, curved, dagger cleanly passed through Cedar’s heart.

Ghost watched as Cedar’s head dropped to the desk with a thud.

Ghost shook his head. “I kept it quick,” Ghost said, “because you tried.”

Sheathing his dagger, Ghost slipped up to what was Cedar’s window and dropped out of the building.

As he left, he thought that this would haunt him for a few days, and then it would pass.

He was wrong.

Cedar walked with him for the rest of his life.

Chapter 25

“Congratulations, kid!” Phantom said, clapping Ghost on the shoulder as the coven of assassins celebrated. “Not bad at all.”

This was a great blow, Oracle had said. An open movement against one of Equestria’s greatest organizations like this would strike fear into the hearts of the common pony. It would gain them notoriety, weaken Equestria, and it furthered their goal all in one single blade strike.

It was a big job, a good one, and he was the one to do it.

“Cheers to Ghost!” Demon yelled. “For bringing glory to the Void, and pleasing our employers!”

“Hail!” the others cried, raising their drinks.

A literal feast had been laid out in the main hall of the hideout. Steamed vegetables, baked potatoes, Unicornian ratatouille, soups, stews, loaves upon loaves of fresh-baked bread and more was gladly passed from hoof to hoof as Specter drank deep again.

Well, really, it was the only way she drank at all.

Speaking of the pegasus archer, she and Demon were quickly working their way up to an eating contest, while Ghoul daintily picked at his meal. Phantom ate with his normal, slow, methodical pacing, and Wraith ate while she glared at him.

Honestly, it seemed her glaring had lessened a bit, but Ghost wasn’t sure if that was her warming up to him or his imagination. Or, worse yet, her lulling him into a false sense of security just so she could poison him later.

The only pony that wasn’t actively celebrating was Oracle. The old, pale pony simply sat and ate, watching everypony else with a small smile. He watched as the ponies around him ate, sang, and swapped stories of their best kills.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t beat the time I killed that lord by removing the trap on his trapped chest and putting it on the safe.”

“Please, the time I disguised myself as a waiter so well that the owner legitimately thought I worked there was far better. He even paid me wages at the end of the day.”

“Neither of those beat the time I shot a stallion who was standing in a room with no windows from two blocks away,” Specter said between mugs of ale.

“Bah! I still killed thirty guardsponies while standing in their keep, and walked away without a single injury. I truly brought glory to the Void that day.”

“Yeah, killing people with a sword’s great and all,” Wraith said with just the hint of a smile on her face. “But it’ll never beat watching them kill each other with swords.”

Ghost smiled and shook his head.

Oracle suddenly stood. “Brothers, Sisters, a moment please.”

The assassins quickly settled down to listen to their leader speak. When he had silence, he continued. “My good ponies, as most of you know, I have long-ago forgotten what my goal was when I founded our little family of cutthroats. Losing my mind to the Tome has stripped me of that pleasure. Yet, despite that, I know that if I did know, I would be proud of what we have accomplished. We are here, now, on the edge of victory, ready to strike the greatest blow of all against our enemy. This is our time. So, cheers to you, my brothers and sisters, for we have turned the wheel of fate, and marched into the future.”

The assassins cheered.

“I have had no greater joy than working with you, my friends. Now, let us,eat, drink, and be merry!”

They cheered again, before drinking deep of their ale.

Ghost, meanwhile, smiled. He has to admit it, coming to join the assassins was a good choice. Sure, there were a few jobs that he was uncomfortable with, but he was still alive, still fed, and a much richer pony because of it.

To think he was afraid of these ponies at one time.

He shook his head, and drank, ate and celebrated until sleep took him.

“Why?” He asked.

Mouse didn’t dare look at him.

“Why? What did I do to you?” the corpse asked again.

Mouse didn’t answer him.

“I just tried to help. I gave you food, shelter, a place to sleep, so why?” he didn’t even sound mad, just sad and curious.

Mouse couldn’t bear to look at him, but as it is with dreams, he began to turn to face him anyway, turning to see the bloodied, already decomposing body of Cedar. The stink hit Mouse full force, hitting his gut like one of Demon’s hammer blows. “I just wanted to help.”

Mouse tried to scream, tried to run, but he couldn’t. He could only stare as Cedar moved closer. The stench got stronger as Cedar stepped forward, flesh sloughing off bone and organs as he moved. “I just wanted to help…”

Mouse couldn’t move.

“I just wanted to help…” Cedar repeated, so close they could touch now. They were so close.

“Why did you do it?” Cedar asked. “Why? What did I do to you?”

And that the last Mouse heard before the stallion began to envelop him, the dead body holding him tight as the smell assaulted his nose.

And that’s when he was jostled awake.

He sat up, startled, terrified, eyes glancing around wildly, before he finally saw Oracle, staring at him. “Ghost, I need your wits about you.”

“What-what’s happened?”

“You have a job. It’s very important. You need to leave immediately,” Oracle said, pressing the Shadowkey for Manehatten into Ghost’s hoof. “I cannot explain how important this mission is, you must leave now, understand?”

Ghost’s mind was waking. “A job? For who? What am I doing?”

“You need to speak with Baron Jet, and you need to go now,” Oracle whispered.

“Why?”

“Because this job is the most important job you will ever have with us,” Oracle said. “Now listen to me, Ghost. Listen. Tell me you’re listening.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening,” Ghost said.

“No matter what, no matter what Jet tells you, you must complete this job, do you understand?”

“What?”

“Promise me, swear by every go that lives, swear by the Void, swear that you will see this job through to the end no matter what he asks of you.”

“Why? What’s going to happen?” Ghost asked, confused by this outburst.

“Just promise, no matter what.”

“Alright, alright, I swear I’ll do it,” Ghost said, still confused.

Oracle nodded. “Good. Stay true to the course. Whatever happens will be for good, I swear. No matter what.”

Now he was really concerned.

“Go, you must go, you must while everyone still slumbers,” Oracle ordered, pulling Ghost from his bed. “Now, now!”

Mouse was pushed out of his room, his cloak and bag being shoved into his chest as Oracle shoved him into the hall toward the Shadowgates.

“I’m going, I’m going!”

Oracle walked with him all the way to the Shadowgate. “You must do this, it will be hard, but you must.”

“I get it! I get it! I’ll do the job.”

“I hope you understand,” Oracle said. “I hope you do.”

“What’s happening Oracle? What’s going on? You’ve never acted like this before.”

“I can’t tell you. Just know it’s important.”

“I get it, but why?”

Oracle didn't answer that, he only pushed Ghost forward, closer to the magical gates that would carry Ghost away to Manehatten in moments.

“Oracle?” Ghost asked, searching for an answer.

Another word did not pass between the two of them until they entered the domed room that held the Shadowgates. “Ghost, good luck. I will be waiting for your return.”

“You still haven't told me what I’m doing.”

“You will understand everything soon. May Seyella guide your path.”

Seyella? Ghost had never heard Oracle swear by that god.

But he ran out of time to think, and was forced through the shadows. He stepped out on the shore of the river, facing the island which sat like a black mass in the moonlit night.

“Sir?” a voice said behind him, and Ghost turned to stare at a young unicorn that stood between him and a simple, black carriage. “Lord Jet is waiting for you.”

Ghost looked between them, glancing between the young stallion, the carriage, and the team of pullers, and the carriage. He waited a moment, using every trick that Ghoul taught him to try and find any trickery in the young unicorn’s face before he began walking toward the carriage.

The door opened for him, and Ghost stepped inside, keeping his thoughts on one of his blades if he needed to reach them.

“Ah, Mr. Ghost was it?” Jet’s deep, authoritative voice asked as Ghost stepped inside the carriage. “I was hoping Oracle would send you my way. It seems that he is, indeed, the slave to fate that I had hoped him to be.”

“What do you need me to do, Lord Jet?” Ghost asked.

Baron Jet sipped a goblet full of wine, while offering another goblet to Ghost as he sat across from him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Ghost, but you’re the new comer to this little operation, yes?”

“I’ve been here since the start of Winter, yes.”

“Yes, well, as it just so happens, you are therefore, the one I can trust the most for this new job.”

“What job is that?” Ghost asked.

Jet smiled. “How many jobs have you done for us? At least six, yes?”

“More than that, sir.”

“Indeed, and you have carried them out with the efficacy of viciousness that I have expected to see from my assassins. Unfortunately, this is only a later development, because there has been more than one occasion where the jobs I have requested have not happened. In fact, some of the most important jobs I requested have not happened, and this has made me rather upset.”

Ghost blinked.

“This means two things, the first is that you are the only pony that I can trust, and second there is somepony among my assassins that is working against me.”

Ghost began to feel uneasy.

“So, the job I have for you, then, is take care of my problem, and wipe out the rest of the assassins.”

Ghost blinked. “Sir, I—”

“You will be paid ten thousand gold bits in advance,” Jet said. “You may kill them in way you deem fit, but they must all die.”

“Sir—”

“Once you finish killing them, you may take anything you want, except Oracle’s Tome. That is to remain behind. You may then leave at your leisure, but if the job goes as planned, then we will not see each other again.”

“Sir—”

“What, Mr. Ghost?” Jet asked, his face cold and hard. “What do you want to say?”

Ghost opened his mouth, and closed it slowly as Jet glared at him. “I...I...where there any particular instructions?”

Jet’s growl lightened, and he eventually smiled. “Yes, there is one. Leave no survivors, am I understood?”

Ghost nodded.

“Good. Now, just as a word of warning, if you fail this job, I will find out, and I will hunt you down. Am I understood?”

Ghost nodded.

“Good,” Jet said, handing over a bag that jingled with coin. “I hope never to see you again, Mr. Ghost.”

As the bag dropped into Ghost’s lap, he felt the weight of the coins against his legs.

It felt so terribly, terribly heavy.

“Well? Is there anything else you need?” Jet asked.

“No. No, sir.”

“Then go. You have a busy night ahead of you.”

Ghost nodded, before he slipped out of the carriage, and back into the spring night air. The carriage door closed behind him, and the pullers quickly ran off, taking Lord Jet back to his own home.

And Ghost simply sat there, on the shore of the Manehatten river, feeling the weight of the bag.

The weight, that terrible weight.

Ghost stormed into Oracle’s office. “Oracle, what’s going on?”

Oracle sat there, with the Tome in front of him. “Hello, Ghost.”

“What’s going on?” Ghost demanded again.

“Our end.”

“No, we’re not ending. I’m not killing everypony because some mad rich pony said so,” Ghost said.

“You must,” Oracle said.

“Why? Why do I need to kill everyone! What good is that?”

“It is what is written. We must die and you must live on.”

“What?”

Oracle motioned to Tome.

“The book? You’re going to have me kill everyone over a book?”

Oracle shook his head and smiled, before a cough escaped him. “It’s not just a book…”

“I don’t care if Luna, Celestia, Seyella, Ventus, and all others came down, kissed it, and told me that I was to follow it to the letter, I am not killing everypony here. We are not ending!”

“We must, Ghost.”

“No! That answer’s not good enough. I refuse, do you hear me! I refuse! I will not kill everyone here because you’ve gone off the deep end.”

“I know you won’t.”

“You better believe I won’t!” Ghost growled.

“You won’t because you’re not a killer,” Oracle said.

“What?” Ghost asked, bewildered by this conclusion. “You really have gone mad, haven’t you?”

“You didn’t come here to be a killer,” Oracle continued. “You didn’t come here because you enjoyed watching the life drain away from a pony’s eyes. You didn’t come here to take life. You came here because you wanted money.”

Ghost was about to answer, but found his voice faltering.

“You came here so that you’d have a place to sleep at night, to eat well, to sleep well, and to be rich. Yes, I gave you a push, but you could have decided to wander instead, to live in wilderness of Baltimare and eke out your honest living out there. Instead, you thought a pony’s life was a worthy price for goosefeathers by a fire.”

“I...I’m not going to be lectured like this!” Ghost bit back suddenly. “I won’t! You blackmailed me into this crazy family of yours, you made me care, and now you’re asking me to kill them? And then you have the gall to lecture me!”

Oracle just offered a small smile and a cough. “You don’t want to kill them,” he said, more a statement than a question.

“No! No I don’t want to kill them!”

Oracle nodded. “So it was written.”

“What?” Ghost asked, now horribly confused.

“I knew you wouldn’t kill them. You’re not a killer. You just want to live a comfortable life. No. I know you would—” he coughed again, breaking into a light fit. “—I knew you wouldn’t kill them. I would have to do it for you.”

Ghost’s heart went cold.

“We’re poisoned.”

“What?” Ghost asked.

“All of us that must die will die,” Oracle repeated, before coughing again.

His hoof came away red.

“It will be quick and painless, and Lord Jet will be satisfied.”

“What...what did you do? Oracle, what did you do?”

“I did what must be done.”

“What did you do?” Ghost asked again, before he ran from the room. “Demon! Demon!”

He leapt down the stairs to the dormitories, rushing down the hallway and slammed into Demon’s door. “Demon!” Ghost yelled, before he tried to shake the earth pony awake.

He did not answer.

He did not stir.

He did not breathe.

“Demon! Demon, wake up!”

But the body of the stallion that had taught him so much, who had been stern and vicious with his punishments, and had looked so proud when Ghost had done well, stayed still. He did not wake up. He was asleep forever.

“Ghoul!” Ghost yelled. “Ghoul!”

He rushed to Ghoul’s room, but like demon, the painter that considered disguise to be his greatest art was gone. He remained unresponsive and Ghost tried to shake him awake, but the face, normally decorated by the wide, warm, and slightly unhinged grin, reamined cold and motionless.

“Ghoul! Ghoul, speak to me!”

The pony that had been so joyful to see a blank flank said nothing.

“Phantom!” Ghost cried, rushing to the next room as a coughing silhouette haunted the hall. “Phantom, please!”

The pegasus’ door opened easily enough, the locked picked so many times that the pins had been worn thin. “Phantom! Phantom be alive!”

The methodical, cautious yet cocky pegasus did not answer. His shallow, easy-going exterior was gone, along with that simple confidence that he was the best at breaking and entering in the world. He was never as close as the other, his own methodical nature kept him at bay, but he was just starting to open up to him, and now he would never open anything ever again.

There were the mares though. They had to be alright. “Spectre! Spectre!”

He burst into her room as Oracle watched at the end of the hallway.

“Spectre?”

The pegasus lay still, sitting in a chair that faced a portrait of her father. The frame was filled with broken arrows, nicks, cuts, and dents, while the portrait itself was damaged beyond repair with the exception of his face. The old, fatherly face looked down at the body of his daughter with sad, fatherly eyes, and a simple, sad smile on his face.

The drunken archer held her bow close to her in one hoof, and a tankard in the other.

She was already long gone.

“Wraith! Wraith!” Ghost yelled, blinking away tears he didn’t know were there. “Wraith!”

“She lives, yet,” Oracle said between coughing fits.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“She lives,” he repeated, coughing again. “She must. It is written.”

“She’s...she’s not poisoned?”

“No,” Oracle said, before he bent over coughing, spitting up blood as he lost his footing, and fell to the floor. “She must,” he coughed, “she and you must live. Jet doesn’t know of her, she is safe.”

“Why her! Why her and no one else?” he asked, trying to glare at the dying, pale pony through his tears. “Why can’t you save anypony else?”

“Because you have to. You’re the one…”

“What are you talking about?” Ghost asked as Oracle began to fall back onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“You...you will bring peace, Mouse. That’s why you’re here.”

“What?”

“Oh…” Oracle said. “That’s right…That’s what I wanted…”

Ghost shook his head, trying to understand why.

“I just wanted...peace…”

And Oracle passed on, looking for the peace he had wanted all along.

“Oracle?” Wraith called out. “Oracle where are you? We still had flour.”

The lair was quiet, and Oracle did not answer her.

“Oracle?” she called again.

Turning the corner to the dormitories, she was about to continue her search, when she came upon him.

Ghost sat here, right beside the bloody body of Oracle. He didn’t move, he simply sat there, next to the bloody, frail, and mentally broken body of the stallion.

“You…” she hissed. “You. What did you do?”

Ghost’s head snapped up, hearing her for the first time. “Wraith, wait—”

She didn’t wait. A fireball shot toward him, roaring as it burned down the hall. Ghost leapt out of the way, his armor eating the heat and flame as the burnt of the explosive flame shot past him and into the hallway. “What did you do?” she yelled.

“I didn’t do this!” Ghost yelled back. “It wasn’t me. Oracle did this! He said that we had to end!”

“Liar!” she cried, firing another spell that transformed into a line of bubbling acid in the air. “I know you did this, I knew you were up to no good! I knew it! I knew it, I knew it!”

“No, Wraith, it wasn’t me, I swear! Oracle poisoned them, I didn’t want to do this!” he cried, leaping to the side.

She glared at the tiny stallion, her eyes burning with hatred as she saw the price of not acting on her suspicions. She should have killed the pony name Ghost the moment he walked into the lair. Why didn’t she listen to her gut? Why didn’t Oracle let her kill him?

She shot spell after spell down on the shifty little pony, forcing him backwards as he tried to escape.

“You sarding bastard! What did you do?”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Liar!” she yelled again, firing bolts of lightning, globs of acid, spears of starlight and more down at the traitor, trying desperately to pin him to the wall.

“I didn’t want this, Wraith, you have to believe me!”

Icy blades and exploding gales ripped passed him, thundering in the air and as he ducked from room to room, trying to escape Wraith’s fury as she unloaded her spells into him. “You killed them! You killed them! They trusted you and you killed them!”

“I didn’t! It wasn’t me!”

“Oracle took you in!”

“I didn’t kill him!”

“He gave you a place to sleep, to stay! We taught you! We trained you! We fed you! I fed you! We did all this and this is how you repay us?”

“It wasn’t me!” He yelled back, as he was forced back to the Shadowgate room.

“You betrayed me!” she screamed, gathering a massive ball of pure, magical force, and lobbing straight into Ghost.

Bone-shattering force hit the retreating unicorn with a glancing blow, fracturing his left jaw as he was sent spinning across the room. He slammed into wall, sending the Shadowkeys that were hanging there scattering across the room, before he landed hard on the floor.

The world spinning, Ghost did the only thing he could, he grabbed the key at his hoof, and rushed out of the open Shadowgate, even as a bouquet of spells followed after him.

“You traitor!” Wraith yelled as he slipped away, and into the shadows. “How could you betray us? Go die! I hope you die!”

She screamed and wailed after him, daring him to come back so she could finish what she started.

But he did not.

All that was left was her, the empty lair, and the tears running down her face.

You've learned a lot about Equestria... and about yourself. It's hard to believe how ignorant you were, but now you have so much more to learn.

Chapter 26

Ghost hit the ground hard. He landed, skidded, and rolled in the wet pine leaves as he was thrown from the Shadowgate. The first thing to hit him besides the ground was the chilled, night air that passed by his shattered face. He groaned as he lay there, whimpering as and crying while the sounds of nightlife echoed all around him.

Nursing his fractured jaw, he slammed his other hoof into the dirt, cursing everything he could for this cruel twist that fate had given him.

Why? Why did it have to happen to them? Why them?

Why did this happen to him?

Was it his fault?

Did Seyella just decide that he was never going to be happy?

He whimpered, sitting up to stare at the world around him. He was surrounded by an old, cold pine forest, with massive evergreens that hid the snow from yesterday’s flurry in its branches. Wet pine needles covered the forest floor, and the sound of a waking noctual wildlife as spring began to touch this place.

He knew this clearing, and he knew that large, natural stone that acted as the other side of the Shadowgate he had stumbled into during Wraith’s fury.

It was the wilderness just south of Vanhoover, where the Unicorn range kept cold winds blowing from the north trapped on the plain.

The trip down to the city would take a few minutes, but there’d be no one around to let him into the inn. He’d have a night out under the stars one way or another, the only difference would be if he was sleeping on pine needles or cobblestone.

He sighed.

Maybe he could stay there tomorrow night, after all, he had the money for a night’s stay.

Oracle had made sure of that.

“Is that all I was?” the pony in his dreams cried. “A warm bed? Was that all my life was worth?”

Mouse didn’t answer.

“Was my blood worth no more than your comfort?” Cedar asked from beyond the grave.

Mouse withered under the apparition's gaze, but still, he said nothing.

“Did my life mean nothing? Was my kindness nothing more than yet more comfort to lay at your hooves until you wanted a proper bed?”

Mouse shut his eyes until tears were squeezed out onto his face.

“Well? Was it? Was that all I was?”

Mouse said nothing.

“Was that all I was to you!”

Mouse opened his eyes, and found himself lying with his back to a tree. Sunlight was already peeking through the trees, and though it was still cold, it was beginning to warm as the sun peeked into the morning.

Sighing, he stood up, wrapped his cloak around him and began heading down to the town, muttering about the cold that made his joints stiff, and his now-swollen jaw.

Vanhoover was much the same as it was a few months ago, with the sailors singing their shanties, and the cold, independent ponies that offered Ghost very little in way of hospitality or information.

His first stop was the armorer, to have his gambeson repaired of the numerous cuts it had in the linen. It was expensive, but a worthwhile investment.

Shortly afterward, he went back to Unicorn’s Tail, the inn he had stayed in on the night he was here last, and wandered into the old, wooden building. A warm, dying fire was burning away in the hearth, while the bartender stood at the bar, serving breakfast to a handful of stallions that sat there.

Ghost nodded to the bartender, who gave him a look before nodding back.

The other three stallions that sat at the bar, all looked over at him, before they dropped their silver bits on the table and left, leaving half-finished plates sitting there along with the bartender and assassin.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Food. Any food,” Ghost said, before he dropped three silver on the bar.

The bartender nodded, scooped up the coins, and shouted down to the door at the end of the bar. “Hey, Olive! Let’s get this pony some eggs!”

A mumbled response came back, before the bartender turned back to Ghost, and pointing to his swollen jaw. “Looks like you ran into some trouble.”

Ghost nodded. “Make the eggs soft,” he said, speaking out of the side of his mouth.

“Right,” the bartender said, before repeating the order back to the kitchen.

Ghost waited, resting his hoof on the other side of his face, staying quiet as he ground one of his hind hooves into the floor.

A few moments later, a plate of wet scrambled eggs slid in front of him, along with a mug of spiced wine.

Ghost nodded his thanks, and began to spoon his breakfast into his mouth. He could practically sip them like a soup they were so soft. Swallowing the eggs down and chasing it with the spiced wine, he quickly finished his breakfast smiled as he set the empty mug down.

“That was fast,” the bartender noted.

“Was hungry,” Ghost said, hoping the bartender would forgive his lack of speaking talent at the moment.

He nodded, before he motioned the unicorn closer.

Ghost was immediately suspicious, and though he did as he was asked, he made sure to focus on his knife.

“Can you fight?” the bartender asked.

“Well enough,” Ghost replied. “Why?”

“Unicorn in town has been asking about you for a few months now. Oak Wood, You know him?”

Ghost nodded. “I do.”

“He’s been muttering about killing when he’s had too much to drink, and offered a good sum of money for any information about you.”

Ghost tensed, and thought back to the three ponies that just left. “I see,” he said before looking the bartender in the eyes. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because the day you wandered into town was the same night that the witch was killed. Now...I ain't implying nothin, but if nothing else, that makes you good luck.”

Ghost smiled. “You do me too much credit, but thank you.”

The bartender nodded, and began to wipe down the bar. “If I were you, I'd buy supplies and get out of town as fast as possible. Oak Wood ain’t known for holdin back.”

Ghost sighed. “Was looking forward to a bed tonight.”

The bartender nodded, before he continued to clean. “Best of luck, traveler.”

Ghost nodded, and left.

Stepping out the door of the tavern, Ghost quickly ducked into the shadows, slipping out of sight as he watched the tavern for any sign of the three ponies for earlier, or, worse still, Oak Wood himself.

Not even ten minutes later, a very angry-looking unicorn came stomping down the road toward the Unicorn’s Tail. Ghost could hear him even when he walked into the tavern, screaming like he was as he slammed doors and tables. “Where is he! Where is he, Keg?”

There was no answer that Ghost could hear.

“You know what I mean! Where’s that rat!”

Another moment passed, followed by Oak Wood’s next explosion.

“You’re useless, Keg! Useless!” the unicorn growled before he stormed back out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Ghost didn’t say anything as he watched the unicorn walk away. He didn’t move, didn’t make a single motion as the unicorn wandered out into the streets. He waited a moment, then a second, before he began to follow. After all, no one looks in the place where they just were.

Staying in the unicorn’s shadow, Ghost pushed forward, staying behind, but never far enough away that he couldn’t see the shopkeeper.

Oak Wood made his way down to the marketplace, talking to the ponies around him, asking for any information, while Ghost very quietly bought some supplies.

A bedroll, some rations, rope, a small tent to sleep under, and other small tools and items to make the trip out of town easier, all of them went into Ghost’s magic bag as he kept his eyes on Oak Wood, who continued to scour the marketplace for any sign of the pony that was not fifty feet behind him. So far, Oak hadn’t noticed him, but that was a dangerous game to prolong. Any moment could be the one where he’d suddenly notice that the pony he was looking for was, in fact, behind him.

Well, it didn’t matter now, he had what he needed. He just had to leave.

“You!” a voice said behind him, before the roar of fire streaking through the air echoed across the market plaza.

Ghost turned as fast as he could, his crescent blade eating most of the fireball while his gambeson shielded him from the rest.

“You killed her!” Oak yelled, his voice followed by the screams of mares that were too late to have been any help.

Ghost stared back. “I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”

“Liar!” Oak cried, before firing another fireball.

The flame roared again as it flew across the plaza, accompanied by more screams as Ghost brought his pair of daggers to bear. Again, between his armor, and the magic-eating enchantment on the blades, the spell was practically neutralized by the time the fireball reached him. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I have no quarrel with you,” Ghost said.

“Quarrel? I want justice!”

“For what crime?”

“You killed Stoneheart! Jade Stoneheart, you killed her out in the forest, and left her body to rot in the snow!”

All eyes went to Ghost.

“I never knew her,” the cloaked pony replied.

“Liar! You asked me about her, you walked into my store and asked me! You killed her!”

Ghost looked up. “Does anyone else wish to accuse me?”

Silence.

Ghost stared back at his accuser. “Do you have any proof, any evidence that links me to the crime?”

“I have all the evidence I need.”

“And what of the courts? Do you have enough for them? Because if not, then I have places to be.”

“I want justice, murderer!”

“I am no murderer, but if you want to take me to court, then show me what ties me to the crime.”

Oak grit his teeth.

“Nothing then? Then leave me be,” Ghost said, before he began to walk away, back to the unicorn that just accused him.

Oak growled. “I’ll kill you for this, you hear me! I’ll kill you!”

“Then you better do it quickly and quietly,” Ghost said. “Because I’m leaving.”

Oak said nothing else, and Ghost just continued on, heading for the gate and out of town.

Ghost was deep in the evergreen forest to the east of the city, and was heading for the mountains.

Ghost knew the look of someone who would do anything for revenge, he grew up with enough inmates that had poor self-control that he could pick it out without much trouble, and Oak had it bad. Ghost didn’t know what funds Oak had for sending someone after him, but he wasn’t going to risk it. He’d have to assume that someone was following him.

That meant he’d have to shake any tail he’d have. That meant he’d have to take a very difficult path, and the most difficult trail was up the mountain.

He really didn’t want to. The climb would be hard, the peaks would be cold, and the higher passes filled with still-melting snow. On the other hoof, the crossing the mountain would be much faster than taking the road south. It would certainly give him a head start against anyone following him, and if he were moving in a team, they pass would be harder still.

He just really didn’t want to do it.

The mountain would be hard, there’d be no places to rest comfortably, and it’d be one massive pain to actually climb it.

He really, really didn’t want to climb the mountain.

It was just his best option.

Seyella was probably behind that, laughing as hard as she could. That seemed like something she would do.

Still, it was, sadly his best option, and without another alternative, it was the best shot he had. On the bright side, once he was through that then he was one step closer to...to...wherever he was going next.

Alright, he had no idea where he was going. He knew he couldn’t stay here, not with Oak hounding him, and he knew he couldn’t get to Canterlot, the guard might be looking for him there. Tall Tale, back where the assassin hideout was, certainly wasn’t going to work, which left Baltimare, Fillydelphia, and Manehatten. The problem with those was the very obvious fact that all three of those cities were all on the other side of the country.

There just wasn’t much else, was there, though?

He could wander…

That was a thought that had been haunting him since last night. He could wander, living in the wilderness like Oracle had said. He could have been foraging berries and eating grass in the wild, where no one would bother him, and no one could stop him from sleeping where he wanted, eating what he wanted, or doing what he wanted.

It wouldn't be as comfortable as it would if he lived in Canterlot or Baltimare, but at least the guard weren’t looking for him. That, and he wouldn't need gold to keep him afloat.

Again, he really didn’t want to live in the middle of nowhere, it was just his best option.

He pushed the thought from his head, and focused on the mountain. He’d have time to think about what he was going to do while climbing the mountain.

The forest floor gave rather easily under his hooves, and his magical bag kept his pack light. With those together, he quickly made his way across the forest, all while keeping an eye behind him.

No party of sellswords were after him yet, but that didn’t mean he was clear yet. It could take them some time to get prepared, get some time for Oak to send them after him. It’d take time, and every second of it was time that Ghost needed to move.

Thwip.

An arrow dug deep into the tree next to him, not three inches away from his ear.

Looking up, he saw a pegasus, bow in hoof, with a quiver at his hip. “He’s over here!”

Ghost cursed, and immediately turned South.

Why didn’t he think of pegasi? They make wonderful trackers, what with the ability to watch from above. Of course Oak would hire one. Why hadn’t he watched the sky? He’d be dead now if that pegasus had hit, and all because he didn’t think to watch the sky.

What’s worse they were on him now. He thought he would have more time, at least, a chance to get clear of the forest and into a mountain pass.

What’s worse, the pegasi made this even more dangerous. They’d have the ability to cross the mountain with half the difficulties that he himself would face. They could fly over the cliffs and gorges that he would have to cover by hoof.

It would slow him down compared to however many ponies were following him, but it was still better than the open road, which would leave him completely exposed to an attack. As much as he hated it, the mountains were still his best chance, which meant that he’d have to shake these ponies long enough to—

Another tree beside him imploded.

Looking behind him, he barely caught sight of a unicorn running up behind him.

Well, there was some good news. The pegasus was tethered.

Bad news, he had to deal with magic.

Another pair of arrows dug into the ground around him, landing with quick, powerful thwips, as they whistled past. Ghost quickly dove for cover, landing next to a tree as a rain of arrows fell next to him, leaping to safety before that tree imploded as well.

Splinters pelted his sensitive jaw, causing needles of pain to shoot up his face. He cursed through the side of his mouth before he ran again, into the open where the archer fired on him again.

Thwip, thwip!

Two more across dug into dirt, slipping through Ghost’s fur as they flew past. Another spell shot forward, destroying his cover again, while the archer continued to fire.

Ghost growled, before he began to gather magic in his horn. All those hours with Wraith had gotten him at least one new spell under his best, yet despite how obvious, draining, and how effective it was, he didn't like it in the least. Still, it was the best shot he had. He turned, firing his spell, and a ball of dark grey mana shot back toward the unicorn.

The wizard, in answer, didn’t raise a defence, he merely sat still and prepared his next attack before an earth pony with a massive blade stepped in front of the spell, and sliced the bolt in half, destroying the spell with an enchantment much like the one on Ghost’s dagger.

Because of course he would have a magic blade with that exact enchantment.

Seyella really did have it out for him.

He kept running, pushing forward, through the trees, avoiding the imploding tree trunks and the raining arrows as he went. Another turn, another dodge, and he was back behind a tree before it too exploded in a shower of splinters.

“Careful! We need him alive!” the pegasus yelled, barely audible as he flew above the canopy.

“You nearly shot him three times!” the unicorn yelled back.

“Shut up, both of you!” the earth pony said. “Don’t give him anything he can use against us!”

It was too late for that. Ghost had everything he needed.

He ran back into the open, zig-zaging through the open, as the pegasus tried to pepper him with arrows. Or, at least, they were going to pepper his legs.

Keeping all four hooves underneath him, he specifically moved through the clearing, taking as much time as possible while he kept moving, while the arrows rained down from above. The archer had to be careful, any deep wound could leave him bleeding out, and dying, something that the archer and his friends couldn’t afford. In the meantime, these were arrows he wouldn’t be shooting later.

Still, he had to kept moving forward, or both unicorn and the earth pony would catch up.

Finally making it to cover, he watched as both of the ground forces chase him, before the unicorn skidded to a halt to fire his spell. The tree trunk imploded, and began to tumble, before Ghost moved directly in the way of the falling remains of the tree.

“Sard!” the unicorn swore, before he cast again, shattering the trunk into yet smaller, but safer pieces.

That was energy he wasn’t going to use destroying his cover.

Now they were playing his game.

“You sarding idiots!” The earth pony growled. “Forget the plan, swarm him!”

Ghost smiled, they gave up much faster than he thought they would, but that was just fine by him.

The earth pony led the charge, hooves thundering as he held up his massive sword, ready to strike. The pegasus dove from the air, falling to the earth with his eyes set on the Ghost. Finally, the unicorn followed behind, drawing a shortsword with his magical grasp.

Now this was something he could work with.

Ghost kept his eyes open as he began moving faster through the forest, searching for anything he could find, any possible cover that he could lead his pursuers down.

There!

A downed tree bridging a small ravine, supported by two rocks was just to his left, and offered him the perfect distraction. Ducking down, he dove for the tree, immediately turning past the massive boulder.

The hunters were right on his heels, diving past the tree.

And then he was gone.

“What? Where’d he go? Zephyr, gain some height and check for any sign of him!”

The pegasus saluted, before leaping into the sky, circling through air as he began the search for the missing assassin. “Where’d he go?” the earth pony growled again, putting his nose to the ground as he began to search for any sign of the unicorn. “Ivory, use that True Sight spell!”

“Already on it!” the unicorn growled, as a spell glowed on his horn.

As the unicorn’s eyes flashed with magic, he began to scan the world around him, his eyes now sensitive to invisibility spells and other ways of magical hiding.

Yet there was no one, because all Ghost needed was a second of invisibility to scurry away.

He smirked to himself as he ran through the trees, making good time as he leapt from branch to branch. Still invisible to the pegasus, and long out of range of the unicorn’s truesight, he traveled through the trees in order to leave no tracks, he was going to make good time for the mountains.

With any luck, by the time the team of hunters figured it out, he’d be long, long gone.

Chapter 27

Ghost remembered being told once that Unicornina was a country of mountains. The native unicorns held the great sky-scraping heights as holy ground, the lands that were closest to the gods themselves. They built great observatories, libraries, and castles on some of the most inhospitable heights, daring the other tribes to take their land from their sheer walls and dizzyingly-high towers.

In fact, Gora, god of Mountains and Metals, was one of the patron gods of the unicorns.

Yet, despite all of this, Ghost couldn’t climb one to save his life.

Gasping for breath, Ghost heaved himself over a rock ledge, pushing and kicking as he tried to pull himself up and over the small cliff he was staring down, before finally, finally making it. “Why?” he asked the sky with a gasp as he laid on the stone, “why couldn’t someone make a path through here?”

His answer was obvious, of course, they hadn’t built a path through for the same reason that he was having such trouble climbing. It was slow, painful going that required far more effort than simply going around. No, instead he wanted to leave quickly.

He rolled back onto his hooves and approached another boulder that he had to climb.

The only thing that really made this whole trip worth it was knowing that he didn’t really have another choice. It was either this or be hunted down like an animal.

“And while we’re on that subject,” he thought bitterly to himself, “let’s just talk about the sheer ridiculousness that the one pony that would actually care that the old witch was buried would spend hundreds of gold to hunt me down. What’s wrong with him, huh?”

Struggling to climb, Ghost tried grasping with his magic, trying to find a handhold that he could use. Unfortunately, this did nothing, and he slid backward, smacking his jaw into the stone before falling backwards on the last stone step, writhing on the ground as he cradled his fractured jaw. He screamed through clenched teeth and rolled across the stone, before he slowed, and finally stood. “I need to get that healed…” he muttered to himself.

Glancing back at the boulder, he took a moment to try and judge the best way to climb. It was probably something he should have done earlier, but it was too late now. After a few minutes, and a few new plans, scrapes, and bruises, Ghost finally climbed up again, standing proudly on his conquered foe.

He sighed. This took far too much effort.

Maybe he should just announce that he was here, and then use the distraction to head back south to the road. It would take less effort, to be sure, at the sacrifice of time and safety. Still, it might just be worth it.

As he began walking up a rough slope filled with gravel collected from over the millenia, he kept a hoof to his fracture, and an eye on the sky. He might have given his hunters the slip once, but to then assume that he lost them for good was stupidity. He knew better than that, even the prisons had taught him better than that. Just because you ran away for now, doesn’t mean you’re safe for long.

His hoof gave way in the gravel, and he fell, nearly slamming his face into the ground again. He cursed several times as he got his hooves back under him, before he growled. “Come on, stay on your hooves,” he muttered to himself, before continuing to climb.

He looked back up at the sky, before he nearly tripped again, and he growled angrily before he tried one more time to watch the sky. Once more he fell, caught himself and sighed. This was going to be a pain.

Focusing on the ground in front of him, rather than the sky, Ghost moved up the mountain, feeling uncomfortable with leaving his back exposed to the orange-purple sky, where the pegasus could be flying above any second now. There’d be no way to know for sure that he was there, he could be flying above right now, and he’d never know.

It set his teeth on edge.

He moved as quickly as the terrain would let him, climbing slowly up the mountainside, before he finally freed himself from the gravel landslide, and crawled onto a new stone shelf. Sighing as he finally found a place to rest, he rolled onto his back and watched the sky for a moment or two.

No sign of the pegasus showed itself, and no other sign of being pursued was there either.

That didn’t mean he was safe. They could just be behind him, or worse, heading south to try and cut him off on the other side of the mountains. He’d have to keep moving if he wanted to stay ahead of them.

Still, it probably wasn’t a good idea to climb when it was dark. The sun was still in the middle of setting and he had already been slipping on the stones and gravel, he’d be useless in the proper darkness, and he’d probably get himself hurt.

As much as he didn’t like the idea, he’d have to find a place to sleep tonight. Any kind of cave would be best, because then any fire he could light would be hidden. Then, at the very least, he wouldn’t have to sacrifice comfort for safety.

He kept his eyes open as he searched the natural walls around him for any sign of a cave that he could rest in. The stone, in turn, offered nothing, and Ghost was simply going to continue to climb before he suddenly caught sight of something.

Behind him, down the mountain, there was a single column of smoke was beginning to rise up into the sky, a single dark smear against the setting sky.

He was still being followed.

Ghost sighed.

Why couldn’t he have this one? Why?

Turning back to his surroundings, Ghost searched for any kind of shelter, before his eyes fell on set of stones that had fallen from the peaks. The stones formed two simple walls, while the mountain itself formed a third, with a single stone crossing them from above to create a roof. It was no cave, but it would suffice.

Walking over, he quickly reached into his bag, and pulled some firewood he had been collecting in the forest. He piled it up, and with a few seconds of working with a tinderbox he bought a month ago, lit it into a soon-to-be-roaring fire.

He nursed it carefully, adding sticks, air, and tinder until it was burning, protected from the wind by the stone walls. It also kept the heat in, and it was getting much, much warmer in the small alcove that Ghost had found, bearably so.

With the temperature rising, Ghost finally took an opportunity to draw his cloak about him, and fend off the mid-spring frosts that plagued the mountain. His magic reached into his pouch, and pulled out the hardtack he bought for rations, and quietly chewed it as he stared into the flames.

He sat there, staring, until he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

The next three days passed like the first. He woke up suddenly, panic raising in his chest until he realized that his hunters did not, in fact, come down on him in his sleep. Once his safety was assured, he quickly ate some of the candied fruit he kept in his bag, and began to move, climbing higher into the mountains.

Up and up and up he climbed, crawling over stone shelves, boulders, and ledges, while taking shelter in caves, alcoves, and under stone to hide from both the whipping, wild wind and the hunters that were slowly catching up.

It was the pegasus’ fault that they were gaining ground. For every obstacle that Ghost had to face alone, they simply had to send the pegasus up with rope, making for an easy climb.

At least, that’s what Ghost assumed was happening.

By the end of the fourth day, their campfire was almost visible as an orange glow against the grey stone. They were making good ground, better than he was, certainly.

He shook his head as he searched for his shelter that night. If the moon were fuller and gave more light, he would seriously consider moving out under the cover of darkness, but with his luck in climbing mountains as it was, he doubted he would make it another twenty feet before he was falling down the mountain, dead.

He checked his surroundings again. A cave would be nice right now. If it was deep enough, he might even be able to hide, and let the hunters go on by. He cursed quietly, before looking back at the warm, orange, glow where the hunters were resting. They’d be on him soon, too soon, and he needed—

He blinked. There was a boulder to his left, where its shadow seemed carved into the mountain.

But it wasn’t a shadow.

He had seen it for just a second, the shortest fraction of a second, but there had been a light in the darkness, there. He was sure of it.

He slid up to the boulder, and pressed his hoof into the shadow, and smiled as he felt nothing. It was the cave he had been hoping for.

Slipping inside, Ghost quickly made his way down, deeper into the mountain. The cave quickly widened, and the assassin followed along as it went deeper and deeper down, until he came to a single, massive antechamber.

The second he did, he noticed several things at once. The first was that he seemed to be exiting out of a vent, much smaller than the proper entrance which opened up on the other side of the antechamber, while also sitting much higher. The second thing he noticed was the massive piles of gold piled in the middle of the room. It stood three ponies tall, and covered the entire floor of the gigantic, natural room, and Ghost felt his eyes bug out slightly at the sight of it.

The third thing he noticed was the brilliant, crimson-stained body of a purple dragon.

It heaved as it struggled to breathe, as blood bubbled and frothed from the three-ponies-long wound in its side. The dragon rolled and writhed on its bed of treasure, and low, guttural growls of pain echoed around the chamber as fire spat from its mouth.

Ghost suddenly realized he was staring, and more importantly, standing still in the middle of the vent, in plain view of anyone that would look up at him.

He hugged the wall, squeezing against the stone, trying to flatten himself into hiding.

The dragon roared, slamming a massive claw into the ground, slamming into the stone with such force that the gold clinked and clattered around the chamber. “Murderer!” It yelled with a gasp. “You could not—” it gasped. “Could not kill me on the field, so you follow me to my home?” She coughed, spitting up blood as a definitely female voice squeaked through her fangs. “You would kill me as I lay dying on my—” She coughed again. “—kill me on my deathbed.”

Ghost didn’t answer.

The dragon growled. “Don’t hide from me, Murderer. I—” another coughing fit. “I know you’re there. The smell of pony and coward is strong enough.”

Ghost quickly weighed his options.

Hide, maybe be found out, and maybe die, or speak up and maybe not die.

He really didn’t like either of those.

The dragon coughed, and took several, long, labored breaths, before a gout of fire slammed into the far wall. “I—” Cough. Cough. “I will find—” Cough. “I will find you eventually.”

Ghost sighed. He was really going to hate himself for this. “I am here, Dragon,” he said, stepping back into view. “And while I am a murderer, you are not my victim tonight.”

Despite her labored breathing, her eyes were fast, they centered directly on him and her long, reptilian pupils narrowed instantly as they focused on him. A long moment passed as that eye that was almost as big as he was stared at him, looking him up and down. Smoke drifted from her nostrils as fire burned in her eyes, before she finally turned away and coughed again. “At least...at least you know how to make an entrance.”

Ghost still didn’t move. He simply stared down at the wounded creature, ready to jump back behind whatever cover he could find in case the dragon decided to end him.

She growled. “Well, Pony? Have you simply come to watch me die or are you here for a purpose.”

Again, Ghost weighed his options. His first and natural inclination was to lie. It had gotten him this far in life. On the other hoof, Dragons were known for ending lives that had been going rather well when lied to…

“I am being hunted. I found your cave and thought it’d be a nice place to hide for the night.”

The dragon snorted. “And so my home becomes a shelter for vermin,” she grunted, before she raised her claw to her wound and seethed in pain. “Though...I suppose I won’t be using it soon.” She turned back to Ghost, a calculating look in her eye before she spoke again. “Can you heal, Pony? Do you have that magic?”

Ghost shook his head. “No, I have a few potions.”

The dragon scoffed. “Potions? If I drank all of your potions it would barley be a drop. No, potions are useless to me…”

Both of them went quiet for a moment, before the Dragon spoke again. “Well, are you simply going to sit there, or are you going to come down?”

“Why would I?” Ghost asked. “You’re likely to kill me.”

The dragon began to laugh, before it was cut short to a pathetic wheeze. “At least you know better. No, I won’t kill you, I am doomed to die, and I would rather use what life I have to kill those who wounded me. Besides, I need someone to live on, so that they may tell the tale of the final vengeance of Cinder the Brightflame.” She coughed. “After all, I won’t be able to tell it.”

Again, Ghost considered, before he finally began to make his way down to the antechamber. He moved carefully down the wall, searching for the small, almost hidden handholds in the stone.

Cinder waited, watching him descend, while taking the opportunity to breathe, even as she continued to bleed, frothy blood bubbling up from the wound.

Ghost finally touched down on the smooth floor of the antechamber, and began walking forward, deciding it was best to stay away from the hoard of gold, and giving it a wide berth. Cinder watched, approvingly.

Finally, he sat before her, and she sighed, laying down on her pile of gold, before striking it with her massive fist as she grunted in pain. It passed a moment later, and as she relaxed she glanced back down at the much smaller pony at her feet. “Have you ever died before, Pony?”

“No,” Ghost replied, sarcasm in his voice.

“I thought so,” she said with an amused snort. “It's painful, let me tell you.” She laughed at her own joke, before falling silent again.

A moment passed, before Cinder spoke again. “Are the murderers following me?” she asked. “Have they followed me home, ready to finish what they started?”

“I can check,” Ghost said.

“Go check,” the dragon said between coughs.

Ghost stood, walking into the darkness of the main cave. As he stood in the tunnel, he saw no light, and heard nothing, not the sound of knights preparing for battle, not the clamor of weapons on armor, only silence.

Ghost returned to Cinder’s side. “There's nopony yet,” he reported.

The dragon cursed. “They need to come soon. I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to avenge myself if they don't…”

Ghost said nothing. He didn't know what to say.

Cinder sighed again. “Are you sure you can't heal me, Pony? The favor of a dragon has never been so cheaply bought.”

Ghost shook his head. “Only the potions, and they can't even fix a broken bone. I don't even have a dressing large enough for that wound.”

She coughed. “Of course not.”

Silence stretched through the antechamber, and Ghost began wondering if staying here, next to a dying dragon was either a safe, or even a smart, idea. She could turn on him in a second, and he wouldn't even have a chance to defend himself.

But he stayed.

“Pony, could you check again?” she asked.

He checked for her three times, and each time he came back, with no sign of her pursuers. Each time she asked, her voice got weaker, and the fury in her tone died bit by bit.

“Could you check one more time, Pony? Please?”

“I don't think they're coming,” Ghost said, before standing, “but I can check one more time.”

Cinder glanced back from him to the tunnel out, then back to him again. “I...I...n-no...stay, please.”

Ghost sat back down.

“Do...do you think they're afraid, Pony? Is that why they aren't coming?” she asked, her voice growing weaker with every passing second.

The assassin looked up at the dragon, whose scales were beginning to turn pale, whose wound was now slowly oozing rather than the frothing mess that he first saw, and whose eyes were beginning to search about wildly as they were slowly losing the ability to see. He looked up at the wheezing, gasping dragon that wanted nothing more than to spend her last moments fighting for what was left of her life, but was forced to watch it slip through her claws.

He watched a dragon, a being that, even now could crush him as she laid on her bed of gold, face death.

And all he saw was a young, scared, girl.

“I would be,” he said.

“Do you mean that?” she asked.

“Of course,” Ghost said. “I’m still afraid as it is.”

The dragoness smiled. “Good...good...I can live with that.” Her eyes, which were clouding over more and more as she struggled to breathe, fell on him. “You know, you’re not that bad, Pony...I could almost get along with you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re losing blood,” Ghost said with a smile. “You are far too terrifying and powerful to be friends with me.”

Cinder laughed. “Now you’re just trying too hard…”

Ghost smiled.

“Pony…” Cinder said, “climb my hoard. I need you to bring me something.”

Ghost blinked, but obeyed, climbing the mountain of gold.

“Go to the back, the very back,” Cinder told him, her voice barely a whisper. “You’ll see a pit, bring what’s in it to me.”

A pit?

Ghost kept moving, confused as to what she actually meant, before he stumbled, and landed face-first into the coins. When he looked up, the first thing he saw was that the coins ended. They had been melted together here, misshaping until they formed a cauldron, a mold of a dragon’s fist formed while the molten gold was cooling.

In the middle of this pit was a single, amethyst egg with deep, violet spots speckled across its surface.

“Do you see it?” Cinder asked.

Ghost felt his mouth go dry, and he didn’t know why. “I...I see it,” he said.

“Bring him to me…”

Ghost obeyed, gingerly picking up the egg with all the care he could manage. He carried it to the dying dragon, covering the space of the hoard as fast as he dared, before he finally, finally, nestled it into her waiting claws.

She smiled as she felt its smooth, fragile shell. “My son…” she said, her voice gathering strength as she held him. “Oh, my son...I weep for you. Your life will be hard, and your years lonely, but you will grow to such strength that the Dragon Lord himself will yield to you. This I know, now avenge me, Son of Cinder, avenge your mother.”

She coughed, arms trembling, before she passed the egg toward Ghost. “Take him, and let him grow, let him avenge me, when I couldn’t…” she said with a cough.

Ghost took the egg, and glanced up as Cinder turned her eyes up to the ceiling of her cave.

And then she was still.

Ghost stared up at the corpse, before he glanced down at the egg.

It was warm.

His mouth was still dry.

“P-...poor little guy,” Ghost said despite himself.

This little egg was alone now, alone with no one to care for him, trapped in a cage of eggshell, and unaware of the world beyond. If he lived long enough to hatch, then his life would be hard. He’d fight and struggle and steal for food, he’d be pushed around by those larger and stronger than him, he’d fight, but it wouldn't matter.

His fate was already decided. It didn’t matter what he was like, his life would make him hard and uncaring long before the end.

“Poor little guy…”

Ghost reached for his pouch, hesitated, and then pulled a piece of cloth, the silk cloak of the pony he killed all that time ago. Working carefully, he wrapped the egg securing around himself, and nestled it on his back, where it would be safe.

They both didn’t need to suffer.

With that thought echoing in his head, Ghost walked into the entrance tunnel, looking for a place to sleep while leaving Cinder and her hoard to rest for eternity.

“Alright,” Steel Lance said to his group of dragonslayers as they prepared to storm the cave that morning. “We got this, with the sunlight behind us, and the wound we gave her yesterday, we’ll definitely have the advantage.”

The four other ponies nodded.

“With luck she bled out last night, and all we have to do is claim the treasure.”

“If we’re lucky,” the pegasus beside him said.

“Hey, we’ve done this before,” Steel continued, “we can do it again and come away as rich ponies. There’s no way we can go wrong.”

“You know, except burning to death,” the unicorn said.

“We’re prepared for that. We have this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said the other earth pony. “Less talking more killing, that hoard’s going to buy me a new farm.”

“You mean your share of it,” the pegasus growled.

“Guys, enough. We need to kill the dragon first, then we can talk shares, and everypony’s getting an equal share.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go already.”

Steel nodded, and turned to face the open cave. “We’ve got this,” he said, before leading the charge. The other followed close behind, eager to find and slay the dragon they wounded the day before.

They didn’t even make it to the antechamber.

Ghost made sure of that.

Chapter 28

The far side of the mountain was much easier on him. Being able to simply jump down each ledge was a nice change from the climbing he had to do.

Now normally, Ghost would immediately think about how this meant that his pursuers would also be close behind with the easier going, but the shortcut that he had found through Cinder’s cave was the edge he needed to stay ahead, even if he did pick up a passenger.

The egg was carefully nestled across his back, wrapped in all the cloaks that Ghost had found on his way out of Cinder’s cave. The cradle of wool held the egg safely as Ghost made his way down the mountain, making good time. He might even be back down to the plains by sundown.

Moving carefully down a few more stones, Ghost smiled. “Well, buddy, there we are, Equestria. It’s going to get warmer now, once we get out of the mountains and away from the snow, it’ll really feel like Spring.”

The egg said nothing, like it normally did.

He didn’t know why he started talking to the egg. It just felt nice and natural to talk to it, but that could be because the last two conversations he had with someone he liked resulted in them dying horrible deaths. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t going to judge him, murder him, or die suddenly.

“The question is do we continue on to Canterlot from here or not?” Ghost asked the egg. “I was thinking about going back there, but I wouldn’t be very welcome there. I killed a few ponies there.”

The egg was silent.

“I don’t know where else we could go. Baltimare is a long way away, and there’s a guard there that knows what I am and she won’t like me being there. Manehatten and Fillydelphia are even further away, and Manehatten is just as dangerous. Besides, I don’t know if they’d take to a dragon egg either.”

Ghost sighed. “Maybe we should just find somewhere out in the wild,” Ghost said. “It’s not really what I want to do, but I’ll do it if I have to.”

The egg didn’t comment one way or the other.

Ghost sighed again. “Yeah, we might just have to find someplace in the wild. Alright, come on, let’s head South.”

Making sure that the egg was secure on his back, he continued, climbing down the mountainside with care.

A shadow passed over him.

He dived for cover, hiding beneath a stone to shade him as he checked the sky. He scanned the expanse above him, searching for any sign of the pegasus that was hunting him. Did they send him ahead to scout? Did they find the cave too? Where they right behind him?

It was just a large bird.

Ghost sighed. “I know...I know...I’m jumpy, but it’s better jumpy than dead.”

The egg didn’t respond.

“I’m glad you understand.”

Another three days passed, and Ghost finally crossed the road heading to Canterlot, continuing South, along the eastern edge of the Smoky Mountains.

They were making good time, according to what Ghost told the egg, even if they still didn’t have a real destination in mind. The more important thing was that they were still ahead of their pursuers, and that was the closest thing they had to freedom.

Checking the sun, which was surrounded by thick, heavy, grey clouds, and seeing it hang low on the horizon, Ghost decided it was time to begin setting up a camp for the night, and perhaps find some shelter to sleep under. Those clouds spoke of rain, and a lot of it, perhaps the first spring storm for the year.

Looking around, Ghost tried to find a place to rest, while also searching for signs of the hunters.

A few times Mouse had sworn he had seen a high flying pegasus once or twice above them, and Ghost’s paranoia was running high. If the pegasus was searching for him, then they were still on his trail, and still searching for him. There didn’t seem to be any ponies around, but unlike up on the mountain, they could sneak up on him without putting their lives in danger.

“No fire tonight,” Ghost said, “the warmth would be nice, but we’re too open here, and we’d be too easy to spot.”

The egg didn’t complain.

Finally, he found a stone ledge at the foot of the mountains that would serve quite nicely. He slid underneath the stone, cradling the egg in his arms as he squeezed beneath it. The stone was low off the ground, half-a-pony-tall at the highest. Ghost laid still, deeper underneath the stone with his back against the stone, before he did his best to get comfortable.

“There...we should be hard to spot down here,” Ghost told the egg, before he reached into his bag for some more road rations. “This is out of the way enough that we’re easy to miss, and once it gets dark we’ll be very hard to see,” he said, draping his black cloak around himself.

Staring at the purple egg in his hooves, Ghost sighed. “We’ll make it out of here, buddy. We’ll find someplace to hide, and then...then you’ll be more free than I have ever been.”

The egg didn’t reply.

Ghost sighed, and set the egg by his head, staring at the smooth, violet surface of the egg. The round, almost glossy shell was nearly smooth enough to his own reflection, although, that was much harder in the shade of the stone, and harder still in the twilight outside.

He took another breath, exhaled, and simply said. “Goodnight, buddy.”

The egg said nothing, but Ghost liked to think that it wished him the same.

With his eyes closed, he slowly began to slip into unconsciousness, with only the distant rumble of thunder to sing him to sleep.

When Ghost woke, it was quiet, cold, and wet. He shivered, realizing that he was laying in a puddle of water, and that the rain had not simply passed by in the night. Just outside was the downpour, the source of the flooding and cold that assaulted him. Large, fat raindrops fell in thick sheets, reducing visibility to a few yards in any direction, and the world was the color of grey rainclouds.

More importantly, his shelter was filling with water, and he might drown if he stayed here.

Grabbing the egg, Ghost rolled out from under stone and into the open, where there wasn’t as great a threat of drowning. “That’s some storm,” he told the little egg, even though he could hardly hear himself over the rain.

He suddenly smiled. “This’ll be good cover, our hunters would never be able to see us through this. It’s the perfect time to mov—”

An arrow shot past his open mouth, coming so close that Ghost could taste the fletching. Spinning around, Ghost could just barely see the figures of the earth pony and the unicorn silhouetted in the rain.

“How did they—?”

A moment later, and the earth pony closed the distance, bringing his massive, spell-eating blade down in a sweeping motion that threatened to split Ghost from his legs. Ghost rushed forward, shoulder-checking the earth pony mid-swing, and sending the attack flying harmlessly into space.

There was a crack, and the tumbling stones of a rockslide began to roll down the mountain after him.

“That has to be the work of the unicorn,” Ghost thought. Before he began running away from the mountains, even as stone as large as bread loaves began to slap into the mud around him.

“He’s running!” The earth pony yelled, barely audible over the rain.

Another arrow shot at him through the rain, zipping past him at terrible speeds. Another arrow flew above him, barely missing the egg.

Cursing, Ghost grabbed the egg as he ran, cradling it in the nook of one arm as he blindly careened into the rain. “I’m sorry buddy, I know it's cold in there, but it’s better than out here right now!” he said, before he slipped the egg into his bag, hoping that the egg would come out without being harmed.

Another crack as, one of the stones around him that made the foothills shattered, sounded above him, and Ghost lept sideways to avoid the granite that came crashing down on where he was standing a second ago.

“They’re playing a little harder than they were in the forest,” Ghost thought, continuing to run blindly through the hills.

His hoof suddenly sank an inch into mud before it hit hard ground, and he slid forward, losing his balance and tumbling head over heels, before landing hard on his back. He landed hard, but kept his breath, rolling back around to run before an arrow landed in the mud in front of him.

If he had been standing, he’d be dead.

Pushing the arrow to the side, he rushed ahead, moving at an angle from his original path, trying to escape without being hurt.

Another spell, another arrow, and Ghost kept running, pushing through the foothills.

He should have seen this coming. He should have. He was too out in the open, he needed to be better hidden than that! Why hadn’t he been more careful?

And that’s when it hit him, a stroke of genius that solved all his problems in a single move. It was the one place he could go to hide, the one place where he wouldn’t be bothered, the place that's far enough away that no one would bother him, but close enough that he could still spend his bits.

The Dark Wood.

He’d been in there a few times now, with the help of the Company, he knew how to make his way through it. It wasn’t even that bad, but it was bad enough that it’d scare these hunters off.

It was the perfect place to hide.

All he had to do now was escape.

He ducked around the corner of the stone, trying to hide so that the hunters would pass him by. He quickly weaved his invisibility spell around him, shimmering out of existence.

“That’s not going to work this time!” the earth pony yelled, as his blade came swinging down on to the stone just above him.

The second before the blade hit the stone, Ghost realized his mistake. The rain was pelting against him, landing against his invisible body, leaving trails of water floating in the air. Of course his invisibility wasn’t going to work out here.

He dove into the mud, sliding across the ground and under the swinging attacks of the earth pony, leaving a long, brown trail behind him. The earth pony was on him in a flash, bringing down the blade, only for it to cut deep into the mud, spraying wet earth into the air as Ghost rolled out of the way.

Another arrow flew past him, and the unicorn’s spell exploded the rock beside him, turning the boulder into a rockslide.

Casting his own bolt spell at the rocks, breaking his concentration on the invisibility as magic slammed into the stone and rocks, sending them flying into the air in a blast of magic.

Glowing sparks filled the air alongside arrows, and the hungry steel of the earth pony’s sword, all baying for his blood. Ghost was caught in the middle of it, leaping and dodging out of the way at every opportunity, but found little. As another blade strike came down on him, Ghost shot backwards, hugging the earth pony before he drew a dagger up against him.

In that single moment, the dynamic changed. The earth pony shot back, swinging his sword and using its reach, keeping his distance from the unicorn while another spell cracked the stone around him. “Listen, buddy,” the earth pony said, holding his sword out in front of him, “we want you alive, but we will fill you with arrows if we need to. Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“Well you’re doing an awful job,” Ghost yelled over the rain, holding out his dagger as the unicorn and the pegasus began to close the distance.

“We were told to bring you in, so that’s what we’re going to do. Whether or not you have hole in you is your choice.”

Ghost’s eyes glanced around the rain, against the wall of grey that cut his visibility. He needed to do something soon, or he’d be up again all three of the hunters, and he doubted he would get away from all of them through the rain. Even his invisibility wasn’t going help.

At least, not when he was close, if he could get some distance, then maybe he could hide the water falling of his side.

But he needed distance, and he couldn’t get it now.

The shadows of the other two hunters were starting to materialize around him. He didn’t have much time.

He’d had to try something, anything, to get away now, or he might be going back to jail.

He grit his teeth.

“So are you surrendering, then? Will you come along quietly?”

Ghost reached into his bag, his magic covered by the dagger he still held before him. “I’m listening, but that won’t last long if I don’t like what I hear.”

“We’re hired to take you back to—”

The old, earth pony shortsword, the very first weapon Ghost ever had streaked through the air between them, flying, point-first, directly toward the earth pony hunter.

He ducked, raising his blade to his defence, cursing. The blades clanged against each other, and the shortsword went spinning into the air before the hunter slipped back into a fighting stance.

By Ghost was already running.

“Oh, sard it!” he yelled. “He’s running again!”

The pegasus fired again, but Ghost was already casting his invisibility again.

“Stop that spell!” the earth pony cried.

“With what?” the unicorn asked as their quarry disappeared.

The earth pony swore, before he tossed his blade to the ground. “Sard it all!”

By the time Ghost reached the Dark Wood, another two days had passed.

Ghost smiled as he saw the gnarled, twisted trunks of the black oak and black birch trees. The canopy of the trees was already growing to fullness, and the leaves offered a nice, cool shade.

Ghost smiled as he looked back at the egg on his back. “Well, buddy, we’re here. The Dark Woods.”

The egg didn’t reply, as usual.

“Of course, we’re on the wrong side of the wood, but getting across shouldn’t be too hard. The important thing is that we’ll have some decent cover, so that pegasus won’t find us again.”

Ghost looked back at the egg, before sliding it off his back and into his hooves. It was still warm, and, to the best of his ability, Ghost did not see any sign that it's short time in the bag did it any harm, but he wasn't fully sure that it hadn’t been hurt.

The fact that it could not tell him only made it worse.

“Hey, don’t worry, buddy. We'll get through this. We'll cut through the North of the wood, just deep enough that we'll be safe. Then we'll find a place to settle. How does that sound?”

The egg’s untouched shell stared back at him.

“Yeah, I like the way that sounds, too.”

Returning the egg to the perch on his back, Ghost began to push forward into the darkness of the Dark Wood.

The old, twisted trees stood tall in the wood, and the canopy of thick leaves choked the light. Leaves crunched beneath Ghost’s hooves, and the thick undergrowth tried to swallow him whole. It was so thick, he almost wished he hadn't thrown the shortsword, it would have served him much better if he could use it to cut a path for himself.

For now, he just had to push forward on his own.

As he pushed deeper and deeper into the brush beneath the yawning leaves, the snap of twigs and vines beneath him rang loudly in Ghost’s ear. It was far, far too loud and his heart panged in agony every time he heard it. The only good news was that sound didn’t tend to travel in forests. The leaves and twigs that he was snapping with every step were being deaded against the floor and trunks of the black trees. He couldn’t have been noticed.

There was no way anything knew he was there.

That’s what he told himself anyway.

“We’ll be fine, buddy. There’s nothing out here other than some gnomes.” He paused a moment. “...and some Timberwolves, but I know how to deal with them.”

A deep, throaty growl surrounded him.

Ghost froze.

His eyes carefully moved to the left, searching first his right side, then his left. A large, feline body with a brilliant, crimson mane glared at him from the darkness. Ghost stayed silent, watching as the large beast glared at him with yellow, hungry eyes. A large, spiny, chitinous tail swung into view, with a large, poisonous barb on the end of it, like a scorpions.

Ghost took a deep breath.

And then the monster’s wings pushed the branches around it aside, revealing its full form.

The Manticore glared down at him, and Ghost was once again reminded that he was not a large pony.

He shot forward, and the Manticore roared.

Ghost’s hooves were pounding as he tried to weave between the trees, trying to slow his pursuer down, but the feline body was used to this environment, and ran through them just as easily. Left, right, left, right, zigzagging through the forest as quickly as his hooves could take him.

The beast roared again, just behind him, gliding through the woods, never losing ground. A claw swiped at Ghost, catching the end of his cloak and tearing it to shreds as it slipped through the Manticore's claws.

Ghost focused on breathing, hoping that he could run fast enough to tire the beast, before a massive blur shot past him and buried itself into a tree. A foot-long spike, and half his hoof wide, sat stuck into the bark of the tree. Another quickly followed, slamming into another, while a third bounced into a boulder, shattering into pieces as it hit the stone.

“It can throw spines? Since when is that fair?” Ghost thought as he pushed forward, trying to lose the terrible beast.

Suddenly the thundering of terrible wings roared behind him, and he glanced back to see the gaping, lion’s maw ready to consume him utterly. He ducked under the manticore and turned, changing direction to give himself a precious few seconds between them. Ghost had nearly made up twice the distance in the time it took for the monster to turn, but even as that thought comforted him, the monster was already digging its claws into the ground to make up for it.

Ghost had nearly lost all sense of direction as his mind raced for a way to lose his newest predator, his breathing not even coming close to covering the sound of the snapping jaws and the terrible growling behind him. The trees weren’t enough, he needed more to get away. Something that would put as much distance as possible between him and the beast, but what else was there? The trees weren’t working, and his invisibility spell wouldn’t work too well against something that could smell him, he needed some—

He came screeching to a halt as his hooves slid against bare stone.

A massive ravine, a deep wound in the earth that opened into darkness. It would be a long and deadly fall, but more importantly, it would be a very short and deadly time admiring it, if he didn’t move.

Dropping to the floor, the Manticore shot above him, pouncing over the unicorn as he flattened himself against the stone. The beast sailed over him, wings spread as it caught the air, and slammed into the ravine wall on the opposite side of the assassin, before it pulled itself up.

Ghost didn’t see this, however.

He didn’t see this because all he saw was the egg, knocked out of its cradle on his back, and tumbling out over the abyss. A panicked yelp escaped his lips, even as his magic grabbed the egg in the air.

The manticore roared, wings spread, before its tail swung around, and another quill-like spine shot toward Ghost.

The assassin barely saw it, and just managed to roll halfway out of its way. It ripped his skin all down his right side, and he growled in pain as he got back up onto his hooves. He immediately turned, and ran, down along the ravine, glancing back at the beast as he hovered the egg closer to him.

The Manticore ran alongside him, with only the ravine separating them. The beast’s claws raked the stone, and it roared in ragged breaths, gaining on him faster and faster as Ghost bled from both his sides.

Thinking quickly, Ghost brought his focus into his bolt spell, and with a quick flick, the magic shot forward, slamming into the monster’s side.

It didn’t even slow down, rushing beside him even as mana burned it side. It’s fury and hunger overwhelming the pain. The manticore pounced, wings spread as it leaped across the ravine, and pinned Ghost to the floor.

He slid across the ground, the egg falling from his grasp as sharp, curved claws dug into his back.

He yelled into the stone and dirt beneath him, and quickly, by every reaction he had ever learned, drew his daggers from his bag. The lion’s hind legs began to kick, shredding his back before Ghost began stabbing into the beast’s side, reaching behind him with his magic to attack the flanks.

Ripping, tearing and stabbing went on for a short second, before the beast lept back, growling in pain. Ghost got up, brandishing his weapons, and screamed, answering the roar with his own.

They glared at each other for a moment, Ghost still bleeding from his shredded back, before the Manticore backed away, glaring back at him as he began to back away. Maybe it was going to wait for him to bleed out, and become easier prey, or perhaps it was to lick his own wounds, Ghost didn’t know, he just held his blades up, and stared the monster in the eyes.

He didn’t break eye contact until it had slipped away, deeper into forest.

Ghost took a long breath, before sheathing his blades. “I’m sorry, buddy, I’m sure you didn’t like that fa—”

Ghost found himself staring at empty ground.

“Buddy? Buddy? Buddy where are you?”

He began shoving the underbrush by him aside, searching the leaves for any sign of the violet egg. “Buddy? Buddy, where’d you go?”

He stumbled, losing strength as blood oozed down his leg.

“Did...did you fall back here?” he asked aloud, panic rising in his voice as the obvious answer hovered in the back of his head. “You fell over here right? Not even a foot off the ground, and into soft dirt and leaves right?”

He didn’t see the egg.

“Come on! You’re right here, right? Right?” he checked behind him. Maybe he threw it behind him when he was pounced.

Nothing.

Forward. “You’re up here right! You have to be!”

He was seeing stars across his vision, and darkness was slowly beginning to encroach around him.

“You have to be here! You have to be!”

There was no egg.

With the last, feeble, tunnels of his vision, Ghost turned to the ravine.

“No...No, no, no…” he fell to his knees, too weak to stand.

“No...no...no…”

And then the world went black.

“So this is it, huh?” Cedar’s accusing voice growled. “This is it! My murderer is lying here, killed by a beast, slowly bleeding to death!”

Ghost didn’t even answer.

“But you know what’s worse? What’s the worse thing about this?” the ghost yelled. “For one moment, one moment you were doing something good with your life. You were taking care of an egg. An egg! The easiest thing in the world to take care of, and you couldn’t do that!”

Ghost didn’t answer.

“You’ve been selling yourself like you’re some kind of herald of death, some master assassin, but here you are, losing blood after watching the one good thing to happen to you for weeks, fly into the abyss.”

Ghost felt the darkness around him get darker, somehow.

“You’ve been calling yourself a ghost, but you’re no ghost. You were barely a pony to begin with.”

The last words Ghost heard as the deep recesses of his mind shut down were simply, “You’re nothing.”

Chapter 29

When he woke, Mouse found himself lying on a marvelously comfortable bed.

This made him immediately suspicious, and he quickly began searching the room for his things. The place was bright, cheery, airy, and no doubt hid some sinister purpose. There had to be somepony watching him, no doubt from the walls, waiting for him to move before dealing the final blow. The silky bed curtains around him rustled in a faint, cooling breeze that made the whole room as wonderfully comfortable as possible, without being too cool or too warm. The bed gave way like a cloud beneath him softer than anything he had ever felt before.

The table beside him held his cloak, belt, bag, and knives, and with a panicked leap, he jumped off the bed for them, dragging his sheets with him. He landed hard on the perfectly smooth, stained hardwood floor as his back, sides, and chest erupted into pain.

He groaned again, rolling onto his hooves, but found himself caught in the sheets and slamming into the ground again. He pulled against the fine bed linens, tugging and pulling, and trying to free himself, as panic began to fill his mind.

It’s a trap! A great, elaborate trap, lure him into a false sense of security with the bed, and sheets, and the nice, comfortable room, and then kill him as he tried to escape! He was done for if he didn’t get out now!

He struggled against his bonds once more, pulling and grabbing and trying to break free, even as the blankets now covered his head and tale.

Blind, bound, and cursing, the assassin tried to reach out for his knives, and was about to cut himself free before a voice called out. “Oh! You’re awake!”

He was lifted bodily in the air, and was carefully placed back in the bed, A moment later, the sheets were unwrapped from his body, leaving him free to see his rescuer.

And his jaw dropped.

A midnight blue mare stood in front of him, with a gentle blue glow surrounded her long, spiraling horn as her magic carefully put things back the way they were. Yet, despite this, her towering figure quite obviously had wings.

It took a moment, but his mind slowly came to a single, terrifying conclusion.

Before him, was a literal goddess.

Leaping out of the bed again, and narrowly avoiding getting caught in the blankets again, before he hit the floor in a bow. “My lady!”

And then the goddess squealed in joy.

Looking up, Mouse saw the mare prancing in place, looking not unlike a filly who had just found a new kitty. “Oh! Oh! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I knew you were one of mine!” She beamed as she danced, and smiled wide as she saw him.

“One of yours?” Mouse asked carefully.

“Yes! Yes!” she said. “You’re one of my followers, I’m Luna! Oh, I’m so happy you’re awake!” She jumped onto the bed, staring down at him from her new perch as she grinned at her disciple. “Let’s see Ghost was it? I think that was your name, am I right?”

“I’m actually…”

“Mouse?” Luna asked. “I’m so sorry, I’m normally better at names, I knew it was one of those. But then again, I’ve never had the chance to meet one of my followers before.” She squealed again, lifting him in the air, and holding him above her as though he were a stuffed animal.

Mouse was doing his best to take this in stride.

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Luna sang, throwing him about the room in excitement. “This is better than I could have ever imagined! I knew we could save you! I knew we’d save you from all those awful wounds. I knew we could.”

His wounds?

His wounds.

The manticore.

The egg. Oh Luna, the egg! It was shattered into a thousand pieces at the bottom of the ravine.

It all came flooding back, set aside only for a moment as he tried to process the danger that could have surrounded him.

He suddenly felt sick as a ball of guilt dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, my little Mouse!” Luna said, before she began to slow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m...I’m…”

“Oh, no,” the goddess said, holding her tiny pony in her arms, before stuffing him back under the sheets. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Stay right here! I’ll get my sister!”

The egg was destroyed.

The thought rang through his head, and sapped his strength.

“You couldn’t even take care of an egg,” he thought to himself. “It had no arms, no legs, couldn’t run off, and you couldn’t do it. All you had to do was make sure that you didn’t drop it, and you failed at that. It fell so far…”

Before he could accuse himself any further, another mare stepped into the room. Towering, white, with a mane as pink as a sunrise, she practically floated into the room . She too, was a goddess, as her horn and wings shone briefly. Luna was just behind her, staring at the the assissin on the bed from behind the larger pony.

“Alright, let’s see this follower of yours Luna,” the goddess with the sun on her flank said as she approached.

Mouse tried to sink back into bed as he watched a goddess approach him, and reach out with a horn that could run through a normal pony. Unlike most unicorns, whose horns were basically knubs, hers was a weapon of war. Yet, despite that, the magic that soon enveloped him was gentle and warm, like the sun on a cool, spring day.

After the golden magic washed over him, she shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with him, Lu, he’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, like a young filly who was afraid that she had just hurt her new puppy.

“Yes, he’s fine,” the larger one said, before turning back to Mouse. “Are you alright…?”

“Oh, uh…Gh—” he began, before stopping himself. “Uh...Mouse. I’m Mouse. No one important.”

“And are you alright, Mouse?” the larger pony repeated.

“Yes, I uh...I just...I just remembered something is all.”

“There, you see, Luna. He’s fine, he says so himself.”

And the midnight blue mare grinned at the news. “Oh! I’m so excited, Tia! It’s one of my followers! When was the last time we talked to normal ponies?”

“It’s been a while,” the one called Tia admitted.

“He’s just so adorable!” Luna said, leaping on to the bed to grabbed him again, holding the small pony tight.

“Ack!” Mouse choked, the air shoved out of his lungs by a bone-crushing hug.

“Luna, you’re crushing him.”

“It’s not my fault! He’s just so adorable.”

The larger pony sighed. “This is why we’re not supposed to be with ponies anymore, you do know that, right?”

“But they’re so amazing, Tia!”

Mouse tried to breathe again, before he was pulled from Luna’s grasp, by a soft, warm glow. “Luna, let him recover before you kill him at least,” the larger one said.

As Mouse was dropped back into his bed, the larger one spoke. “Welcome, Mouse, to the Castle of the Two Sisters. I am Celestia, the Dawnbringer, and this is my sister, Luna the Starsinger, welcome to our home.”

“I...th-thank you for your hospitality…” Mouse said. “How did you find me?”

“Well, you were in our backyard,” Luna said.

Celestia nodded. “You were lucky we came across you, young Mouse. We almost were too late to save you. You had lost a lot of blood, and were on Halden’s door. You been sleeping for three days.”

“I see,” Mouse said simply.

“Once you’re ready, you’re free to explore the castle, just be sure to call for us,” the larger goddess said. “Luna has already introduced herself, but you may call me Celestia.”

Mouse nodded.

“In the meantime, rest. It’ll be some time before you can walk on your own power.”

“Thank you,” Mouse said, before he pulled his blanket up and gladly went to sleep.

The next few days passed by slowly. Mouse would wake at random hours, haunted by the ponies that were kind to him, and were betrayed for their trouble. Food was left for him, but he barely touched it. Instead he lay still in his bed, living with the pain that was growing in his stomach.

He deserved it, after all. He should have simply stayed in his cell, and waited for death to take him like so many other inmates. It was better that way. Cedar would be alive, Windswept would be alive, Demon, Phantom, Oracle, and Spectre would all be alive, and there wouldn’t have been a problem.

Mouse would have suffered, yes, he always had, but it wouldn’t have been any worse. In fact, that dark prison under Canterlot seemed preferable to this, to living with the knowledge that he tried and failed. He tried to be a normal, average pony, and failed so spectacularly that he turned into a he kind of creature that other criminals believed are morally depraved.

He just wanted a normal life, that’s all.

How did things go so wrong?

Another plate of food sat at his bedside, as fragrant and warm as if it had just come out of the oven. Mouse barely spared the honey bread a second glance before turning over to pull the blankets tight.

As he slipped into unconsciousness, though, he was surprised to see that he wasn’t alone.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Mouse?” Luna asked him from his dream.

Mouse blinked at the sight of the her, as she stood in the void he was floating in. He looked to the left, where Cedar stood waiting, ready to tear into the small pony and tear him down again.

Luna ignored the spectre, and stared down at Mouse, with sad, pitiful eyes.

“I…”

“Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you carrying all this guilt?”

Mouse sighed, before he grunted. “It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“How could you say that?” Luna asked.

“I killed them, of course I deserve it,” Mouse bit back. “I killed them, and I deserve to die.”

“Oh, Mouse, how did it come to this?”

“It’s what I wanted!” He growled. “I gladly traded their lives for gold, and now, I get to die.”

“You should be so lucky,” Cedar growled. “You deserve to suffer for eternity! You betrayed me when I had done nothing but help you! You killed me.”

“Be silent,” Luna ordered.

Cedar went silent.

“Mouse, look at me,” Luna said, and the small pony obeyed. “Is this really what you wanted? You wanted to trade lives for gold?”

He wavered. “Y-yes.”

“He did,” Cedar growled, before Luna shot him a glare.

The image withered under her glare.

And Luna gave him a soft smile. “That’s not what your heart tells me.”

Confused, Mouse looked around him, and the first thing to cross his vision was the Howling Dragon, where Mouse was happily working alongside Punch, serving drinks from behind the bar. They laughed as a pony performed on the floor, and one of barmaids slid up close and joined the fun.

It...It seemed...nice.

Mouse turned away, returning to the void for comfort, but then found himself staring at a young Farmer Mouse, who was carefully working in a field on the outskirts of Baltimare. It was hard work, but he tended to Lady Ruby’s field with care, working alongside the earth pony farmers to bring in the harvest.

Mouse turned again.

There he stood with Storm and Cedar, singing in the Darkwood Company building as they drank and celebrated. He was being awarded, climbing the ranks. The ponies around him were cheering as he was awarded his newest rank, and Storm was delighted to be the first to call him a peer.

Mouse sighed.

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t?” Luna asked.

“Just leave me be,” Mouse sighed. “I’ve strayed too far from that path to think of it anymore.”

Luna shook her head, before she turned to the sneering Cedar that dared not approach her. “Well, if nothing else, then allow me to turn this parody into a true memory of your friend.”

“He was never my friend!” Cedar growled. “He betrayed me, lied to me, and—”

A silver-white light shot across the void, and tore into the apparition in Mouse’s mind.

“—and it hurt me…” Cedar said, his voice calmer. “It hurt me, because I know we could have been friends. Real friends. Instead, I scared you away, and led you down on this terrible path, and now it’s too late for us.”

Mouse didn’t answer as he was left alone with with his dream, with this new Cedar that he knew in his heart was more like the real Cedar than anything his mind had ever dreamed up. This less abusive, kinder Cedar, that was more hurt than angry. This new Cedar that just wished the two of them could have genuinely been friends.

Mouse wasn’t sure which was worse.

When Mouse woke next, he was met with the sight of Celestia, who glared at him angrily from above. “What’s this about you not eating?” she asked, a fire deep in her eyes.

“I...um…”

“I am not letting you starve yourself after all that!” She asked, her hair flapping angrily as sparks of fire popped around her head,before her horn shimmered to life, and pinned him to the bed. “We were put in charge here for the sole purpose of taking care of you ponies, and I’m not going to let you die while you’re literally within leg’s reach. Not when we are so close to finishing. So, I am going to give you one chance, mister. Eat, or I will make you eat.”

Mouse carefully weighed his options, before he quickly grabbed the plate beside his bed, and ate.

Celestia continued to glare, before finally nodding, and stepping out of the room, continuing to glare the whole time.

Mouse ate until the goddess left him, and then picked at his food, slowly nibbling on his food as he sat there alone. His stomach rejoiced at the food, and though it was a little painful, he managed to finish the plate.

He did have to admit that it did feel good to eat again. It really did.

Sighing, Mouse pulled the sheets up around him again, and went to sleep.

Days went by, and, under the watchful, wrathful eye of Celestia, and the excited, almost intrusive gaze of Luna watching him in his dreams, Mouse was well on the way to recovery, despite his original attempt at otherwise.

The goddesses, unsurprisingly, made for good company however. Celestia was the serious, older, and arguable wiser sister, who offered him information in exchange for cleaning his plate, while Luna was the more excited of the two, eager to share about her subjects, and her love of the night sky. She spoke endlessly about her favorite stars, the constellations, and the plodding journey of the moon and planets across the sky, describing them in great detail, even after Mouse had lost her completely.

Still, it was enjoyable to have someone to talk to.

As the second week of his stay passed, he was finally able to walk about the Castle, and quickly found himself marveling at the sheer size of it. Any second not spent being coddled by Luna or watched by Celestia was spent ogling the mighty Castle of the Two Sisters

The Castle was large, with many rooms, tapestries, and suits of armor, which were all covered in a layer of dust so thick that everything appeared gray. The castle had its own, fully stocked library, with so many books that Mouse had a hard time believing what he saw, and it had a kitchen to match, ready to serve hundreds of people. It had an organ room, with an organ that appeared untouched for decades, as well as a single secret passage that Mouse had discovered on accident, which could only mean that there were more.

Yet there was nopony here. Not a single pony besides himself and the goddesses.

The whole castle was empty.

It made almost no sense this massive, fully stocked castle was so empty.

On the other hoof, it made tracking down the goddesses easy enough. All he had to do was follow the clean halls, or barring that, their hoofprints that were left behind in the dust.

This was useful, because after all this wandering around, Mouse had a question he wanted answered.

It took him a little time, but eventually he found Celestia, carefully reading through a book, before she quickly spotted their guest.

“Hello, Mouse. What brings you here?”

“I’m curious, my Lady,” he said, bowing to her.

Celestia motioned him to continue.

“I was curious as to why the castle is empty. It is obviously made for many ponies, but only you and Lady Luna live here. Why is that?”

Celestia didn’t even look up from her book. “Because we are leaving.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not surprised,” Celestia said, before finally looking him in the eye. “Mouse, the question you’re asking has a long answer, and I’m not sure I want to answer it, especially not to a murderer.”

Mouse’s ears flattened.

“In fact, I want you to know, right now, that the only reason I have not kicked you out of my castle to die is for my Sister’s sake. She, for some reason, believes that it’s okay that you’re a murderer and wants to keep you as one of her followers, because of some excuse that it’s not what you wanted or something.”

Mouse took a step back.

“If I had it my way, I would have you killed, but my sister’s heart is too big to allow such a pitiful thing be killed, so you will stay for now, Murderer. For now, I will pretend that I don’t know, despite Luna’s awful attempt to hide it from me, so you’re safe. Besides, it would be a mark against our hospitality if I were to force you out.”

Mouse nodded. “I see, thank you, Lady, for your patience.”

Celestia nodded, and Mouse took his leave.

Mouse was served his dinner in his bedroom, though “served” is perhaps the wrong word when the living moon goddess brings the plate herself.

“Hello, Mouse,” she said, smiling as she came to feed her follower. “I have brought you some biscuits, baked potatoes, and shortbread.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Mouse responded, still unsure of how to respond when a god offers you a meal.

“So, as I was saying,” she said, picking up her conversation from a few hours ago. “The cluster of stars that I call the belt has a clou—”

“Lady Luna, if I may?”

“Oh, of course, of course. Please.”

Mouse took a moment to breathe, before he spoke again. “I’m a killer. You know that, I know that.”

Luna shifted.

“So why are you keeping me here? Why are you letting me stay? Why haven’t you kicked me out, and sent me into the forest to die like I deserve?”

Luna’s face softened, and she gave him a small grin. “Because, Mouse, it’s our duty to take care of the world, and the ponies in it. We are supposed to care for the innocents and protect them from the dangers that they are not yet ready for.”

“But I’m not innocent,” Mouse said. “I’m almost anything but innocent.”

“Yes,” Luna said, setting her plate aside, "but you are a facing a great and terrible danger, Mouse. You are facing the danger of losing your way.

“And I will not let you fall to that while I’m still here.”

Chapter 30

The Castle of the Two Sisters stood in the center of the Dark Wood, its towers just barely breaking the canopy as wild clouds hovered overhead. From the donjon, the highest tower, the view resembled that of a ship on a sea of green, the waves rustling as the wind played in the branches. Mouse stared out of the window, at this view and sighed.

The whole sight was oddly relaxing to the assassin, it felt almost like his first sight of the land of Equestria. It left a strange, calming nostalgia on his heart, as though it were a memory of the hope he felt when he first left the darkness of the jail behind him. Before it was crushed by the world.

“Mouse? Mouse, are you up there?” came Luna’s voice from the stairs, she was no doubt carrying a plate a food with her, eager to share a lunch with him again. Ever since he arrived he had barely eaten a single meal alone, Luna had happily sat beside him and talked, and talked, and talked.

Sighing, he turned back to the door and answered. “Yes, I’m up here…”

“Wonderful!” She said, coming up the stairs. “I thought those were your hoofprints. We typically just fly up here when we want to see the view.”

“It’s a nice view,” Mouse admitted.

“Isn’t it?” Luna asked, carrying to plates and cups. “I brought some swichel, cheese, apples, and honey yogurt. It should fill you up nicely.”

“Thank you,” Mouse muttered.

Luna set the plates on a nearby table, smiling as she prepared for another meal with her follower. “Come on, you must be hungry,” she nearly sang.

He was. The hunger he subjected himself to still hung in the back of his gut, calling him to the table.

As they both sat at the table, Luna handed him a spoon, before taking her own, and beginning to eat. “So, did you just come up here to enjoy the view?”

He came up here to be alone and think. Luna’s comments from the other day had left him horribly introspective, while Celestia’s left him feeling unworthy of their generosity. He should probably leave as soon as he had his strength again, if only to keep the elder goddess happy.

“Mouse?” Luna asked again.

Suddenly realizing he missed her question, he blinked, before answering. “Forgive me, Lady, I was...thinking.”

“About what?” the lunar goddess asked.

“I…” he began, before a question popped into his mind, “I was wondering, Lady, what your sister meant by leaving?”

Luna blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I asked the Lady Celestia why the castle was so large, but so empty, and she simply said that it was because you were leaving. What did she mean by that?”

Luna did not answer immediately. In fact, for the first time since he first met her, Mouse saw her frown.

The frown stung him, and he quickly added “I...forgive me, Lady, I didn't mean to offend.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s just…it’s just something I would much rather avoid.” The Lunar goddess sighed, before she drank her honey-ginger drink. “To...to put it simply the gods, all of us, are leaving the world.”

Mouse blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because the world doesn’t need us anymore,” she said, her voice gentle and melancholy as she set the cup back down as she frowned. “Who raises the sun, Mouse?”

“D-doesn’t Celestia?”

Luna shook her head. “She used to, these days the Solar Council of Unicorns raises the sun. Celestia took care of that while the races were still young, but now they’ve learned to take care of it themselves. Who controls the clouds?”

“The pegasi.”

“And who ruled the storms before the pegasi?” she asked. “Ventus used to, until he taught them the ways of shaping cloud, now he teaches the clouds to take care of themselves before he joins the rest of us in...well...you’ll figure that one out on your own.”

“So...you’re leaving because...because you’re not needed anymore?”

Luna nodded, frowning. “It’s a sad thought, isn’t it? Faust put us here as guardians and teacher for the world, and now the world doesn’t need us anymore. So we’re getting ready leave, all of us.”

Mouse blinked. “But...but what about our prayers? Our dreams? The mountains, forests and fields?”

“They’re in the hooves of ponies now, and they will be forever,” said, before she raised her glass again, and spoke into her drink. “And we have to leave it all behind.”

“So...there were ponies here, but you’re leaving...so…”

“So we gave them a chance to go home,” she said. “Or, at the very least, try to make one in this new world of Equestria. I pray it lasts.”

Mouse blinked.

“That’s what she meant, Mouse. We’re three hooves out the door, and we cut all our ties. You’re the last follower of mine alive that I will ever speak to, and talking to my ponies is perhaps what I will miss the most.”

Mouse didn’t know how to respond to that, and so he simply went quiet, and ate the rest of his meal is silence.

A week passed him by, and Mouse was getting stronger by the day. Since the lunch in the donjon he had done his best to meet with Luna more often, to walk with her through the castle, and listen as she told stories of the newborn days, when the world was young, and the mountains green.

All the while, Celestia’s gaze on his back grew hotter. The dinners together grew colder, and her glares sharper as his legs returned to their strength and his wounds knitted together. Still, Luna loved his company, if her smile was anything to go by, and that helped lessen the sun’s fury.

As he slept in his borrowed bed, he smiled and shifted; his nocturnal wars with Cedar lessening with each passing night, before he was suddenly shaken awake.

He inhaled sharply, muscles tensing before he reached for a knife.

Then he paused as a soft, deep blue, smiling face met him.

“Mouse, Mouse, get up.”

“What, why?” he asked, shaking the fog of sleep from his mind.

“Come on, come on!” she insisted with a giggle.

She led him through the darkness of the castle, smiling like a fool as she dragged the half-asleep assassin behind her. Down the darkened, armor-flanked halls, up the winding, spiral stairs, and finally back to the donjon, where the open sky yawned above them.

“Come here, come here!” Luna laughed.

Mouse followed, before he finally stepped out on the balcony, where the goddess waited for him. “What are we doing out here, Lady?”

She didn’t answer at first, instead, her horn lit up, and the clouds above them began to part, revealing a brilliant night sky that shone brighter than he had ever seen before. Luna smiled wider, before she spoke again “If you’re going to be the last mortal I speak to, then I want to share what I do at night for you.”

“For me?” he asked.

Luna’s eyes widened, and she took a tiny step back. “Well...um...ponies in general,” she said with a hint of rose gracing her cheeks. “But...well...I like to imagine it’s for those who want to see it, and, well, that includes you...”

Mouse shook his head and grinned. “Alright, alright, let’s see it.”

Luna’s face exploded into a smile, and she pulled him to the balcony. “Come on, come on, it’s almost here!”

She pulled him close, and stared up at the sky, where a million stars reflected in her eyes, her smile growing wider still. Her excitement was palpable, and mouse smiled, despite himself, and happily followed her gaze into the sky.

For a second, the sky stared back, with the stars shining like gems on blue silk, before a light streaked across the sky. A brilliant white light shot through the air, burning across Mouse’s vision.

Then came another.

Another, another, and another.

The sky was filled with a rain of lights, some burning red, blue, and green across the heavens as Luna unleashed the stars from their bonds, trailing coronas of brilliance in their wake.

Mouse watched, before the moon finally came into view, gleaming in it’s razor crescent, slicing the sphere above them in two.

“It’s...it’s beautiful,” he said.

And Luna smiled, happy that someone was there for her last performance.

Celestia frowned.

She didn’t get it. Luna knew this pony was a murderer, one of the ponies who invoked her name simply to better hide their evil deeds. Still, Luna smiled, enjoying his company despite what he had done, showering him with her attention like he deserved it.

He was scum, a creature that took the lives of one of their fellow mortals without a motivation beyond coin.

Yet there Luna sat, happier than Celestia had seen in years.

She didn’t understand. Why did Luna favor him so?

She shook her head.

Well, it didn't matter. Mouse’s wounds had finally closed, and she had fulfiller her obligation of hospitality. He could leave now, and whatever happened to him would not be held against her.

She’d be rid of him by the morrow, and that was just fine with her.

Mouse packed his bag, making sure that everything he had in it was spotless, and strong. The daggers were sharpened, the cloaks he pulled off the assassin's back in the sewers were aired out, washed, and dried. He carefully folded all his other cloaks, and stacked a few books he had picked up from somewhere or another. His armor was patched, polished, and toughened, his coins were counted, and everything else was taken care of.

He didn’t have to worry about food. Luna had all but shoved bags of dried fruit into his bag, along with bread, wine, swichel, cheese and more. By the time she was done, Mouse was sure that he could feed a small town with the stockpile he had.

The only thing that the lunar goddess didn't take care of was the journey itself, though, if she could travel it for him, she might very well try.

“Is that everything?” Luna asked.

“It is, Lady,” Mouse confirmed.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You need nothing else?”

Mouse shook his head. “That’s everything I can think of.”

Luna sighed. “I suppose it’s time then,” she said, a hint of sadness edging into her voice.

Mouse nodded.

“Come then, Mouse, I’ll walk you to the door.”

Celestia met them at the stairs. “I see you’re packed, Mouse.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Lady, for your hospitality. You sustained me through a dark time.”

“And what tragedy would have befallen us if you had not been sustained,” she muttered.

“I’m walking him to the door,” Luna said. “I plan to see him off properly.”

Celestia nodded. “Then I will join you. It’s only proper after all.”

“Proper to see you off myself, more like,” Mouse thought but nodded nonetheless.

The trio pushed forward, walking down the stairways until they finally came to the throne room.

The great tapestries, thrones, and the massive, dust-covered carpet lay before them, towering over Mouse with its vaulted ceilings, but this was all secondary to the fact that a figure stood in the middle of the room.

A lithe, tall figure, taller than either Celestia or Luna, with a golden coat stood in the center of the throne room, staring up at the windows, and humming softly to herself. Her mane, a shock of pure white hair, hung curled around her neck, and her tail whipped in a non-existent wind. She, like the goddess, had a pair of wings, and a sword-length horn, but the thing that got Mouse’s attention the most was the black web-like cutie mark.

“Seyella,” Celestia called. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for him,” the goddess of fate said, almost lazily pointing at Mouse. “He wants to talk to me.”

“Talk?” Mouse growled. “Talk, with you? The mare responsible for every trouble I’ve ever had.”

“That’s a little harsh…” Seyella replied, turning to him.

“Harsh? I was born in a jail! Don’t talk to me about harsh! You decided instead to pick on me forever!”

Seyella sighed. “It’s a little more complicated than that, Mouse.”

“Complicated? Complicated! Everything I’ve done had fallen to pieces because of you, but it’s ‘complicated.’”

Seyella shook her head. “And here I thought you said that a pony makes his own path, that luck is his own to make.”

“You ruined me! All I wanted was a normal life, but you burned down the bar! I said, fine, I’ll be a thief, but you kicked me out of there too! Finally, I became an assassin! I was at the end of my rope, I used my talents the best I could, and then you kicked me out of there too! Why do you hate me so much?!”

“I don’t—”

“Sarding Tartarus you don’t!” Mouse growled. “You—”

Seyella stomped a hoof against the tiles floors, and it echoed like thunder, silencing Mouse mid-rant. The golden-coated alicorn waited a moment, before she spoke again. “I would like to speak.”

Mouse didn’t answer.

“Mouse, I understand your pain. Really I do, and I wished I did not have to do what I did.”

“Then why did you?” he asked.

She glared at him. “Must you interrupt me?” she asked. “What do you know of destiny, Mouse?”

“It’s what will happen! It’s the future! It’s going to happen no matter what I choose.”

Seyella shook her head. “No, Mouse, no, that’s not what Destiny is.”

“Really? Really? Destiny isn’t written in the stars, huh? Then what? You’ve just ruined that child’s life for fun? What about my life, is destroying it a hobby to you?”

Luna pushed him, and he turned back at her, anger in his eyes. “What? She’s ruined every chance I’ve had at a normal life, she’s ruined me.”

“She would never!” Luna replied. “Seyella loves all ponies, have some respect for her.”

“That’s sadly not the case, Luna,” the golden alicorn said.

Both goddesses looked at her, shocked. “Sadly, I did have to work against him, but I assure you, Mouse, it was not through any malicious intent.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, sarding Tartarus you didn’t.”

The alicorn sighed. “Celestia, must we argue in your throne room? I would rather be seated. I have a long journey after this, and I wish to rest.”

Celestia blinked, before nodding. “Of course, of course. Um...follow me.”

The solar goddess led them up into a solitary tower, and seated them in a tea room. A low table covered in a silver tablecloth, and decorated with delicate, porcelain tea cups with golden accents. Luna prepared the tea and cakes below, and Celestia waited in the corner as Seyella and Mouse prepared themselves.

To Mouse’s credit, he waited until the golden goddess of fate had seated before he began his tirade again, cursing her to her face as she waited and rested.

He was not finished when Luna came with tea, he wasn’t done as Seyella ate her teacakes, and he didn’t stop even after she had let her tea steep, and mixed it with honey and ginger.

When he finally did finish, Seyella was already halfway through her cup of tea, and carefully topped up her cup before she finally spoke. “Have you said your piece, Mouse? Are you ready to listen?”

“Oh, I’m ready, and it better be good,” he growled.

She sighed. “Firstly, Mouse, you must understand, I don’t control ponies,” she said. “I cannot make a decision for you, or anypony else. There’s nothing that can stop you from standing up and leaving this room.”

“Don’t tempt me, I just might.”

“So then, Mouse, if I can’t control ponies, then how can I control fate?”

“I don’t know? How do Celestia and Luna control the sun and moon? Does it really matter?”

“It does matter Mouse,” she said, “because if I can control fate but not ponies, then what happens?”

“You weasel your way to make it work?”

“It doesn’t work, Mouse,” she responded. “Fate stalls, fails, and changes. When you said that you made your own luck, you were more right than you thought.”

“So what? Then fate doesn’t exist? You can’t have it both ways, either fate is a thing, or ponies can choose. Which is it? Do you have control, and simply ‘destine’ a pony to beat his foals, or are you useless?”

“If I may speak!” the golden alicorn roared, shaking the room.

Mouse shut up, suddenly very aware he was speaking to a goddess.

“Mouse...I am about to reveal a secret of the universe. Destiny is not what will happen. It’s what should happen. The hero should kill the beast, and the hero should be the noble knight. If the knight refuses, then the wizard should be the hero instead. If the wizard refuese then somepony should step up, and they should win.

“Meanwhile, I can guarentee that every problem in this world because somepony’s doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Burning a bar down, beating prisoners, murder,” she said, her tone stressing the last one. “The list goes on, but I’m sure you get the point.”

“Alright,” Mouse grumbled. “I get your point, but the fact stands—”

“Which fact, Mouse?” she asked, almost wearily. “The fact that your life is awful? Yes, yes it is. Your life has been needlessly cruel, unfair, unfortunate, and I cannot blame you for taking the path that you have. You deserve to live a nice, quiet life in the coutnryside, married to a lovely mare that just wants to run a farm, and if I could give it to you, I would. I would gladly give it to you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” Mouse asked. “That’s all I wanted, why can’t I have it?”

“Because no one else can do the job that should happen,” she said with a sigh. “Mouse, listen, there is a storm coming, a terrible, terrible storm that will destroy Equestria, and if this world is to survive, then Equestria must survive. You can save it, youshould save it, there have been several ponies that should have saved it, but they chose not to, and you’re the only one I can still count on.”

“So what, I’m not even your first choice?” Mouse grunted. “I’m the last hope because all the other ones were busy?”

“You’re the last one because you can get it done the fastest,” Seyella answered. “The others were chosen and refused the calling before you were born, Mouse. There’s no time for anyone else but you. As it is, I have used every ounce of my power to put ponies in your path to help you gain the skills you need.”

“So you did burn the bar down?” Mouse asked.

“Yes, damn you!” she yelled, throwing her cup of tea. “I did! I did and my heart broke when I did it, too! I broke both your spirit and Punch’s and I’ve hated myself for it. I have forced your hoof at every turn, abusing all my power in the hopes that you will know what to do to keep the world from descending into chaos.”

Tears were running down her face.

“And now, here I stand, trying to convince you that I’m looking out for you, that I’ve been watching you, helping you, and desperately hoping that you can understand why.”

Mouse blinked.

This wasn’t...wasn’t quite what he was expecting.

She sighed, before standing. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m just making things worse now.” Her teacup floated back onto the table, putting itself back into one piece as Seyella’s soft, white magic fixed it. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Mouse. It’s become obvious to me that I should have stayed quiet.”

“No,” he said, his voice still filled with anger, softening though it may be. “No, you don’t get to go yet. You’ve told me that this is for the best, that all this suffering has a point, but you still haven’t told me what that point is. Why? Why were you doing this to me? What’s the point?”

Seyella paused a moment before she looked to him, sadness in her eyes. “Have you ever heard the tale of the missing nail, Mouse?”

“No.”

“For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the soldier was lost. For want of the soldier, the battle was lost, and for want of the battle the war was lost,” the alicorn said, reciting the poem. “You should be the nail, saving the world by finding out exactly what happens with the help of knowledge that I don’t have.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“Find the Tome, Mouse. Find it, and all of this pain will have had a purpose.”

With that final word, Seyella left the assassin in the room before Celestia followed after her, leaving Mouse alone with the Lunar goddess and his thoughts.

“Seyella! Seyella!” Celestia cried, calling after the older, larger alicorn.

She slowed, and turned. “Yes?”

“He’s going to save Equestria?” she asked. “The murderer?”

Seyella sighed. “It would behoove you to learn mercy, Celestia.”

“He’s a murderer and a thief! He doesn’t care for the law, and you’ve made him the one that will save Equestria?”

“I’ve set that path before him, yes.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. “Leaving him in charge?”

Seyella sighed. “Celestia, you know it doesn’t work that way. You know I don’t see the future that will be, only the one that should be. You know I can’t be sure.”

“Then why him? How can you trust him to do anything?”

Seyella smiled. “Because it’s what I should do.”

Chapter 32

Mouse stared up at the building across the street. Walking in there would be a sure, sudden death. He knew it, they knew it, and Mouse was sure that Golden was more than interested in watching the ponies inside jump him.

“Well are you going to go or not?” Golden asked, standing next to him.

Cut had gone off to grab some supplies, saying he’d meet up with them as soon as he could. This left him and Golden standing alone, in front of the Dark Wood Company building. The wooden edifice stood, looming over the street, and filled with ponies that no doubt wanted Mouse dead. Still, Storm was the best pony he knew alive that would make for a good front-line fighter. They had plenty of stealthier options, but if he was putting together a team, then he’d want Storm in it.

Now all he had to do was convince Storm to actually join that party.

“You know this guy probably wants me dead right?” Mouse asked. “And I only say ‘probably’ because he hasn’t hired anyone to track me down yet.”

“I won’t let them kill you. You’ve cost me enough money that it’s not worth it, yet.”

“Yet?”

“I’m just giving you a chance to prove me wrong.”

Mouse rolled his eyes.

“Just go, I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’d rather you go ahead of me, that way I have a head start on getting away if they cut your head off at the door.”

“Look, I’ll pay for whatever you stole, I have the authorization to—”

“I killed their leader,” Mouse interrupted.

“You what?” she asked, eyes wide, before they turned to an angry glare. “What do you mean you killed him?”

“Being an assassin paid better than thieving,” Mouse said. “That and my coworkers weren’t high on blackglass on the time.”

“You became an honest-to-goodness assassin?” she asked. “And here I thought better of you. I thought that incident on the farm was a job gone wrong.”

“Nope. Hired for it. She paid decently, too.”

She shook her head in disgust. “Maybe I should let them kill you.”

“Well excuse me, but what other job could my talents get me?” Mouse asked. “It’s not like the ability to go unnoticed pays well on the other side of the law.”

Golden just shook her head, and started crossing the street. “Just shut up and come along before I change my mind.”

Mouse sighed, and followed along, walking only a step behind the golden guard as she walked into the Dark Wood Company Building.

The moment Mouse crossed the threshold, every pony inside stopped and stared at him. Mouse tensed even as ponies stood, some drawing blades.

“Put them away, ponies,” Golden ordered. “This is guard business.”

“And what’s the guard doing with a murderer?” Polar the pegasus asked, gripping his sword.

“That’s guard business,” Golden Shield said, staring him down. “Put your weapons away, we need to speak with your leader.”

“He killed our leader!” A pony yelled from the crowd.

“Put your sword down, or I will put you down!” Golden yelled. “I have business with your leader, and this pony is coming with me. Am I understood.”

“And how do we know you won’t kill him, huh?” Copper the earth pony growled. “What if little Mouse came back to finish the job, eh?”

“I’m a guard,” Golden told him. “He’ll be fine.”

“And how can we trust you?”

“I’m a guard,” she repeated.

“And what are you going to do if we stop you?” Another pony said, standing in their their way.

“I. Am. A. Guard,” she said for the third time. “What part of that are you not catching? I will keep your leader safe, I am being held to my word by law, and if you stand against me, you stand against the crown, now step aside.”

A large unicorn stood in front of her. “Guess you’ll have to make—”

“Oh, just let them in,” a voice said from behind.

The ponies turned to see Storm standing on the stairs, glaring at them. “First one to draw on them, is cleaning latrines for a year.”

The soldiers of the Dark Wood backed away from their guests, and Golden Shield gave a smirk before she and Mouse made their way upstairs, following after Storm. Mouse gave her a few directions, but they finally came back to his office.

“Hello, Mouse,” Storm said. “What brings you here?”

“Hello, Storm,” Mouse said, trying to ignore the awkward tension that was growing in the air. “We need a team.”

“Who’s we?” he asked.

“The guard,” Golden replied. “And I’m real tired of saying so.”

Storm glanced between them. “It’s rather concerning to me that the Equestrian Guard has stooped so low as to hire an assassin.”

“They need someone who can sneak, it’s a talent that not many ponies have.” Mouse said.

“Do they also need a pony with a talent in betrayal?” he asked, almost growling.

“Storm…” Mouse began.

“Cedar and I showed you nothing by kindness, Mouse. We stood by you, we helped you, we sheltered you, we taught you what we knew and you turned on us.”

“It was a job, Storm. Nothing more.”

“You killed Cedar for money?” the pegasus asked, disgusted.

“I did a job for money,” Mouse answered. “I killed for money, like the Dark Wood company does every day.”

“We’re not murderers,” Storm answered.

“No?” Mouse asked. “Because I remember that we killed living, breathing, speaking, and thinking things almost every day.”

“They were monsters.”

“For money.”

“I’m an exterminator, you’re an assassin,” Strom said, “and you betrayed me.”

“And it was my job. Do you think I don’t understand what I’ve done? Living here was some of the best months of life. It was the closest I had to living a normal life, and I had to give it up because of the job.” Mouse paused, and took a breath. “But I’m not here to debate morals, I’m here to get your help.”

Storm glared at him. “What are you asking?”

“We’re tracking down the The Horn of the Mystic Oath,” Golden said. “They’ve been attacking the castle, and making attempts on the lives of the Founders more than once. The Dark Wood company has a lot of experience with tracking, and hunting them down is our current priority.”

Storm nodded. “And you have him for…?” he asked, pointing to Mouse.

“Infiltration and sabotage,” Golden said. “Considering how viciously he evaded all attempts at capture by the Baltimare guard when he was living there, he has a talent for blending in and hiding. Right now, that’s something we need.”

Storm nodded. “Well, at least there’s one reason keeping him around,” he muttered. “So you need him to infiltrate, you to keep him on the straight and narrow, and you need me to track the murders down?”

“And to fight if things go wrong,” Mouse said. “You’re still one of the best fighters I know.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take the compliment to heart,” Storm frowned.

“What do you say, Mr. Storm?” Golden asked. “Will you join us?”

He snorted. “Not sure I’m willing to travel with a pony that could stab me in the back again.”

“Don’t worry,” Mouse said. “You’ll be safe. After all, that’s the job, right?”

Storm glanced up at him. “I suppose so,” he said, before standing. “Alright, I’ll join you, Miss Guard, but I want in on the record that I am doing this to serve the country, I have no desire to do it for Mouse, if that is his real name.”

Mouse gave a wry grin. “It is, sadly. Glad to hear you’re one the team. Now we need to head to Baltimare.”

“Baltimare? Why?”

“Because we’re going to need a distraction, and I know someone that is incredibly distracting.”

“What does that have to do with Baltimare?” Storm asked.

“I’ll let you know once we’re on the road. I want Cut to hear this too.”

Storm sighed. “Keeping secrets. You’re off to an amazing start, Mouse.”

Walking out of the office, Storm led the way. “Polar!” he called as they walked down the stairs.

“Yes, sir?” the pegasus called.

“You’re in charge till I get back, don’t run us into the ground while I’m gone.”

The announcement exploded in the Dark Wood Company common room, and ponies gawked at him as confusion ripped through them. “What? What’s going on? Where are you going?” Polar asked, slightly panicked.

“I’ve been hired for a critical job,” Storm explained. “I don’t know what information I can divulge, but just know it’s important enough for me to take the job myself.”

“Are...are you sure, sir?” Polar asked, sounding like a pony that did not relish the responsibility thrust upon him.

“Yes, it needs to be done,” Storm replied.

“Al-alright, sir. Thank you.”

Storm nodded before turning to Golden and Mouse. “Let’s go.”

They left the building, stepping out into the street and were quickly met by a smiling pegasus with a pack on his back. A pair of short sword hilts poked out from under the pack, and short-cropped, black hair hung messily from his head.

Mouse blinked. “Cut? Is that you?”

The pegasus smiled. “At your service. Had to go break out my old adventuring gear for this.”

Mouse blinked again. “I...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hood.”

Cut shrugged. “It was better that way for my previous employment, but no bird’s going to roost me today.”

Mouse shook his head. “Alright, come on, we’re heading to Baltimare.”

“Baltimare? Why?” Cut asked.

“There’s apparently somepony there worth recruiting,” Storm grunted.

“Who?”

“He hasn’t told us yet,” Golden answered.

“Look, I’ll be open here, I barely remember his name,” Mouse said. “But his skills are what are important.”

“That sounds promising,” Storm grunted, shouldering his pack as he stepped outside the Darkwood building proper.

Cut shrugged. “If Mouse says he’s good, he’s good.”

Storm leveled a glare at Cut. “You trust him?”

“With my life,” Cut answered. “I’ve even done it a few times and my trust wasn’t misplaced.”

“Do you know what he’s done?” Storm asked.

Cut smiled. “Do you know everything he’s done?”

“Alright, alright,” Golden said. “No more bickering until we’re actually on the road. There are too many miles between us and Baltimare for us to be stuck in the city waiting on you two.”

“Speaking of, do you have the cart ready?” Mouse asked.

“I’ve had a captain put it together,” Golden said. “It should be ready.”

“Great, then we won’t need to walk the whole way with our packs on our backs,” Mouse said, as they all began to make their way to the city limits. They moved, walking down the ever-expanding town to the palisade that was still, slowly being built. The need for defense had finally outgrown the need for expansion.

The cart waited for them, packed with a barrel of food and watered-down wine. “Throw your packs in, gentlecolts, we have a long way to go.”

Maple Leaf, son of Bay Leaf, sighed as he came in from a long day in the fields. After the hours he spent out there, supervising the farmers in his father’s employ, and making him proud, he’d finally have the time to sit down and study runes again. It took some time and begging, but he finally convinced his dad to get him another tome of runes to study.

As he walked into the house, he quickly skipped his way upstairs, smiling brightly to himself, and burst into his room.

“Maple!” His father called from downstairs. “Get back down here, you’re not wasting your time on that nonsense until after you do something useful.”

“I already worked on the farm, Dad!”

“Don’t talk back to me!” the father yelled. “Now get down here and start working on the finances.”

Maple groaned, turning from his desk to walk back down the steps, mentally grumbling as he was pulled away from his books again. He shook his head, wishing that he had the time to convince his father that runes were useful, but he had already had that conversation more than once, and could already play it through his mind.

“Runes are useful, Dad! They can help the farm!”

“And kill the rest of it.”

“I can make money selling services, all kinds of ponies need spells like that!”

“And then you’ll be killed. We’re not unicorns, magic ain’t for us.”

“But great grandpa—”

“Your great grandfather was burned for witchcraft! We’re done talking about it!”

So instead, Maple had to go and work the books, clacking against an abacus as his father tried to push him to take the family business. He was eighteen, for Peme’s sake. Most pegasi would have been kicked out of the family house at his age to become their own ponies. Instead, here he was, stuck in his father’s house because he had been born an earth pony.

Then again, Earth ponies were the only ones that could cultivate enough life to make Rune magic work, so it wasn’t all bad.

He walked into the office, and his father met him with a stack of paperwork and an abacus. “Work on these first, I’ll hand you more later,” Bay ordered.

Maple said nothing, but he did mentally bemoan his luck.

He turned away to sit at a desk, and slowly began to work, clacking away at the abacus as he started calculating the value of their latest shipment of beets compared to the cost of manure and labor.

A pony, one of the servants, stepped inside. “Sir? There are ponies outside that would like to speak with you.”

Bay looked up from his work. “I’m busy.”

“One of them is a guard, sir.”

Bay sighed, and stood up. “Fine, entertain them for a moment.”

Maple didn’t even look up from his work, staying focused so that he could get it done and get back to his tome. Being done with his work was the only way his father would let him get back to his study, and the moment that happened, the sooner he could go back to experimenting with his runes.

Clack-clack. Sounded the abacus, as Maple worked faster, trying to be done as quickly as he could. If they sold another two shipments of beets they make back enough to more than double the expenditures.

“Absolutely not!” his father’s voice suddenly rang from the foyer.

Maple paused. His father was not a man that yelled often. As he put it, he had ponies that were paid to get angry for him, he had no need to yell.

He slowly set down his quill, and slowly made his way to the office door, and pressed his ear to it.

“We don’t even know any of you! How did you…” his father’s voice sounded, trailing off through the door.

Maple leaned closer into the door.

“How do you know about that?” he roared again.

A pause.

“Of course it matters!”

Maple pressed his ear against the door harder, trying desperately to hear the other half of the conversation.

“Absolutely not! I’m not trusting my son to you! I’ve seen the witch hunts in Earthonia! I know better!”

“The witch hunts?” Maple thought before a spike of terror was staked through his chest. “Are they after me? Is it the Earthonian Inquisition? How did they find out? How? Why are they here?”

He backed up against the wall, panic setting in as all the stories his father ever told him, all the ones that ended with his great grandfather burned at the stake rushed back to him. They were hunting him down, all carrying pitchforks and torches.

His heart began to pound, and he glanced down at the necklace he wore, and the fainty growing runes in them. They were only big enough to hold a charge or two, before they started eating his own life. Eating the plant life would take too long, and he was too far away from anything use them anyway.

He began to breathe heavy, only a fraction away from hyperventilating. “What do I have? What do I have?” he thought, trying to take inventory.

He had his fire rune, but he could only get one shot out of that one. He had blizzard, which did better at holding ponies down rather than outright damage, there were two charges of that at least. He also had a quake spell, but that’d ruin the house, and a half-working charm spell which hardly ever worked.

He’d get killed if he tried facing them with just this, he needed to run.

His eyes went to the window, and he crossed the room in a moment.

He turned the latch, opening the windows wide, and nearly jumped out of his skin before the doorknob began to turn. He was nearly halfway through the window, when the door opened.

He didn’t wait another moment. He leapt out of the window, running out of the back of the house even as his father called after him. “Maple! Maple!”

He sprinted out, into the beet field rushing past a handful of farmers as he ran to escape the inquisitorial agents.

“Maple! Peme damn it!”

He kept running, looking behind him to stare down at his pursuers, and an earth pony in armor appeared in the window, leaping after him.

All of his fears simultaneously confirmed, he began running faster, rushing through the fields ready to cast a spell if they got too close before he noticed a shadow pass overhead. He glanced up, and nearly paled when he saw a pair of pegasi above him. His lungs were already burning, there was no way that he could outrun pegasi, he needed to cast.

“Blizz-Blizzard!” he yelled, casting his spell up at the pegasi. The rock around his neck flashed, and a cloud of freezing mist and howling wind shot upward. Both pegasi quickly banked out of the way, and gave Maple a well-earned second to run, before he was suddenly tackled from the side.

He rolled hard, before his fireball spell erupted into the sky, singing the mane of his attacker. “Fire!”

Cold steel kissed his neck, and he froze as his mind suddenly processed the fact that he could be dead.

“Hey kid,” Mouse said, pinning the earth pony down as Maple’s Runestone necklace hung draped around the long curved knife blade. “It’s been a while.”

Maple blinked. “You...what—?”

“Easy, kid, just like last time, I don’t want to hurt anyone today,” Mouse said with a smirk.

“How...What?”

Mouse stepped off of the young stallion and smiled. “We’ll get to that in a second, for now, we need to talk.”

Chapter 33

“So,” Mouse said, now that he had Maple sitting in an empty field, surrounded by himself, Golden, Cut and Storm, “now that we have your attention, and have made it very clear that we’re not here to burn you at the stake, let’s get down to business.”

“What do you want with me?” Maple asked, glancing between the ponies around him.

“We need you to do that rune-carving stuff,” Mouse said. “We’re going to be fighting against a bunch of sarding unicorns that can stop unicorn magic. You don’t have unicorn magic, so you’re going to be more than useful.”

“And why should I work for a thief like you?”

“Why indeed?” Storm snorted.

Mouse groaned. “Storm, I’ve dealt with this attitude of yours for days now, and I have had it up to here with it.”

“Well sorry that your feelings were hurt,” Storm replied.

“Gentlecolts,” Golden threatened with the tone of her voice.

“I tried, alright, I put on my best smile, extended the Olive Branch, and have received nothing but jabs every since he joined,” Mouse growled at her.

“Later,” she hissed, before motioning back to Maple. “Maple,” she said, turning to him, “despite what you may believe, we actually do represent the interests of the crown. He may be a thief, but he’s one that’s trusted by Princess Platinum herself.”

“Really?” Maple asked, blinking in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t believe it either if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” Golden confirmed.

“Besides, you can still whine and complain about me being a thief every ten minutes. It’s what he does,” Mouse said, pointing a hoof over at Storm.

“Actually I complain more about the fact that you’re a murderer,” the pegasus answered.

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Look, Maple, the point is you have magic that most ponies aren’t prepared for. That’s good. That’s something we need. The issue is that you’re the only pony I know of that has this that is still alive.”

“Princess Platinum sent you?” Maple asked, looking to Golden.

“Yes,” she replied, “and it’s a very important mission, I’m afraid. A mission that requires both incredible secrecy and your unique talents.”

“So,” Maple asked, eyes wide, “you’re saying that Equestria needs Rune Magic?”

“If it’s going to survive? Yeah.” Mouse said.

“I’m in,” Maple said.

Cut smirked. “Well that was fast.”

“Good,” Mouse said. “Pack your bags. We travel light. Storm, can you go with him, make sure he only packs the necessities?”

“It’ll be better than staying with you,” Storm said, before he motioned to Maple to follow him back to the house.

Mouse rolled his eyes, before he turned to Cut. “Cut I have a favor to ask.”

“What?”

“Get some ears to the ground, look for anything that could suggest we have cultists in the area.”

“We’re going to start hunting soon?” Cut asked.

“Not quite. We’re going to try and collect one more pony before we start hitting them, right now, we’re just collecting info.”

“Got it,” Cut said. “I’ll meet you back at the cart.”

Mouse nodded, before the thief left, leaving just the ex-assassin and the guard alone in the field.

“Who is this sixth pony you keep talking about?” Golden asked.

“Nopony you need to worry about,” Mouse said.

“You keep saying that, but so far we’ve recruited a thief, a mercenary, and a foal,” Golden said. “I’ve put a lot of worry aside already.”

Mouse smirked. “Then you should be able to handle one more just fine, can’t you?”

Golden glared at him. “I can still hang you, you know. I have ponies who can do what you do.”

“You could. It would save me a lot of trouble if you did,” Mouse answered back.

She kept glaring, and Mouse met her look.

They glared at each other for a moment more, before she finally sighed. “Look, I just don’t want to walk in and get killed.”

Mouse smirked. “Oh, you won’t have to worry about that. She’s more likely to kill me first.”

“Wait, what?”

“She’s an assassin,” Mouse said, “and a very strong sorceress at that. Most importantly, she doesn’t like me.”

“Well, I don’t like you, that doesn’t mean I’ll kill you.”

Mouse sighed. “She may think that I’m responsible for the death of the entire...What do you call a group of assassins? Point is, she blames me, she felt that they were like family, or something, and wants to kill me for it.”

“Why does she blame you?” Golden asked.

Mouse sighed, before he turned to stare her in the face. “Because the leader of the this little group was a madman who thought that I was some child of prophecy, and poisoned everyone except us two because of it. She thought I did it.”

Golden blinked. “What kind of ponies are you associating with?”

Mouse sighed. “Look, she’s got the unicorn magic skills we need. She can identify any magical traps, read any of their spell books, and can figure out how to use their magical items. Maple will take point if they ever shut down unicorn magic, while Cut and Storm can take any hoof-to-hoof fights.”

“Why her, though?” Golden asked.

“Because she’s the only pony I know who can do that,” Mouse replied.

“Why not a mage you stole from or something?”

“Because if I stole from them, they couldn’t catch me. That’s not the kind of pony we want on this team. We need somepony better than that. The only other pony I know who can do that is her.”

“Again, what kind of ponies do you associate with?” Golden asked.

“The only ones that would take me,” he said back with a glare.

Golden only raised an eyebrow in response.

Mouse didn’t dignify her with an answer, and walked away, into Baltimare proper and leaving Golden alone.

She shook her head as she watched him go. “There’s something wrong with that pony,” she muttered.

After regrouping, the five ponies all gathered back to the cart, and were now slowly making their way back on the road. Golden pulled the cart forward, while the others sat in the cart.

The ponies sat in silence, each for their own reasons. Cut, even though he hadn’t found any rumors about the Order of the Horn, now watched the horizon for any sign of somepony following them. Storm went back to glaring at Mouse, while Maple smiled from ear to ear, surrounded back rocks, and carrying books with him.

Mouse, likewise said nothing as he hung his head outside of the cart, staring at the countryside as the coast slowly moved away.

“You still haven’t said where we’re going, Mouse,” Golden said as she pulled cart forward.

“Head for Tall Tale, with any luck the last pony we need for this mission will still be there.”

“Tall Tale?” she repeated. “That’s on the other side of Equestria! Why are we heading there?”

“Because the last pony we need is there,” Mouse said. “Besides, if we get there in one piece, travel won’t be an issue.”

“What do you mean it won’t be an issue?” Storm asked. “What if we have to get to Manehatten? That’s weeks away from Tall Tale.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mouse repeated. “Travel won’t be an issue if we get there.”

Cut smiled. “Well, call me curious, what do you have up your sleeve, Mouse?”

“It’s easier if I show you,” Mouse said, “which means that we’ll need to get there first.”

Cut shook his head. “Alright, alright, keep your secrets.”

“So who’s the last pony we need?” Maple asked. “Are they some kind of knight? Or wizard?”

“She an assassin,” Golden answered. “Because we need another lawbreaker in the group apparently.”

“I prefer them to birds,” Cut muttered. “Besides, it’ll be a 50-50 spread, it’ll even things out.”

“Wait, half of the group would be lawbreakers?” Maple asked suddenly concerned as he looked between the Cut and Storm. “Who else is a thief?”

Cut looked over to the young rune caster. “Let me ask you a question, boy. What does a thief look like?”

The question gave him pause for a moment, as though he were suddenly considering what exactly that meant, before he went quiet.

“He’s got a point, Goldy,” Mouse said, looking over at her for the first time since he walked away earlier. “It’s not like you’re going to be outnumbered or anything. We’re just evening the playing field, right?”

She gave him a look, before she huffed. “Look, I’m just saying I better not be the only one pulling this cart to Tall Tale.”

Camp was an interesting experience for Mouse. Before whenever he had made camp, it was typically just him against the elements, or with Storm during his stint as a Dark Wood company member. Now, while he had a whole team of ponies to watch over him while he slept, which did make it easier despite his initial feelings, he also had to deal with their actual companionship.

Cut, to his credit, tried to get the others to open up, to get a proper conversation going between him and the others, but Storm nipped it in the bud every time. He refused to talk, and simply stared at Cut, before turning his glare to Mouse again.

Mouse, for his part, let him glare while Golden merely looked between them before taking first watch.

This was the torture Mouse was settling in for as he got the fire set up, before Maple walked up to him. “So what do I do?”

Mouse blinked, before looking around at the others. Cut was setting a few traps to ward animals away at night, while Storm foraged for food. Golden was setting up the tents, and that left very little for Maple to do.

“I...have you asked Golden if she needs help?”

“She said to ask you.”

“Of course she did.” Mouse grumbled. “Um...do you know how to forage?”

“Not really. I know crops, not wild plants.”

“Um...do you know any trap runes?”

“Only ones that take hours to set up.”

Mouse groaned. “Can you cook?”

“No, the servants did that for us.”

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Fine, go to the river and get some water.”

“Alright!” Maple replied happily, before he quickly ran off, leaving Mouse alone with the fire.

Then he quickly ran back. “Do we have a bucket?”

Mouse groaned.

Golden chuckled as she watched.

“Just use the pot,” he said with a sigh.

“Got it!” Maple said before he ran back to the cart, grabbed the pot and ran, leaving Mouse back with the fire.

Golden chuckled as she walked up. “The kid’s probably the best thing to happen to us.”

“Why? You want a meatshield?”

“No, he’s a break from all this glaring and muttering the three of you have been doing since we left Canterlot.”

Mouse sighed. “I suppose. I’ just hope he isn't caught on the front line. Killing a pony is going to ruin him.”

Golden nodded. “You’re right. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but you’re right.”

Mouse finally got the fire to start, and it was roaring to life shortly afterward. Not ten minutes later, the five ponies were gathered together, eating their porridge. Storm glared at mouse throughout the meal, while Cut and Golden were just tired of it.

Maple ate happily, unaware of the tension shared between the ponies.

The fire crackled as they ate, the only real sound between them as the glares shot back and forth across the camp. The silence and tension dragged on for a long moment, bordering on unbearable before finally Maple spoke up. “So did everyone meet Mr. Mouse when he broke into your homes?”

Cut laughed.

Storm grimaced.

Golden shrugged. “Sort of. I found him on the streets of Canterlot, he seemed like a harmless beggar at the time, and he talked to my superior out of investigating the house that he was about to rob.”

“Actually, somepony was already robbing that noble blind, Miss,” Cut said, before hiding his smile in his oat bowl. “So I’ve heard.”

Golden sent a glare Cut’s way before continuing. “Anyway, later, we caught him making a break from another burglarized house, so we knew he had some connection to the criminal underworld. After that, I was moved to Baltimare, and who do I find but Mouse, acting as suspicious as ever? It was pretty clear after that point who was responsible.”

“And you haven’t arrested him yet?” Storm asked.

“He turned in the leader of a thieves’ guild, earned a deal, and walked free,” Golden explained. “It was the biggest bust of my career, honestly. Besides, this was before I knew he was a murder.”

“I wasn’t then,” Mouse said.

“What now?” Golden asked.

“Yeah, he was just a thief when I had him,” Cut repeated. “I don’t know when he started the wetwork, but he just stole stuff when we worked together, killing’s bad for business, after all.” He set his bowl aside and leaned back on the rock he called as his seat. “I found Mouse on the streets, with hardly a copper to his name. He was squatting in a beat-up log cabin, living on copper-piece onion soups, he needed a job, so I”–He paused, and glanced over at Golden–”I get confidentiality right?”

“At this point, I assuming it’s part of your payment,” she replied.

“Gotcha. So I brought Mouse on as a lookout. He did a good job, too, played decoy for us at least once, and earned a pretty penny doing it. I hired him full time, but he told me he wanted to go straight so I let him go.”

“He wanted to go straight?” Golden asked.

“That’s what he told me,” Cut said. “Then again, he went off and became an assassin, so I don’t know.”

“Mores the pity,” Storm growled. “Good ponies are dead because of it.”

“Why didn’t you quit, Mouse? Why did you get into assassination?” Golden asked.

Mouse looked up from his bowl. “I tried. Equestria doesn’t like me.”

“When you tried playing by their rules?” Golden asked.

“So you are paying attention,” Mouse said with a smirk. “I tried. I tried to start with, no one would take me. Tried to get a job in a store, she wasn’t hiring; tried a blacksmith, he didn’t have the time to train me; tried a tavern job, it was burned down; no chance. The best I had was a handful of gold that bought me two nights in an inn before I had to get out onto the street.

“I didn’t have much choice but to resort to thieving,” Mouse muttered, before he glanced over into the darkness beyond their campfire. “I mean, I could’ve starved. That was certainly an option. Maybe I could’ve spent the gold I had better, gotten out of town, come to Baltimare and become a farmer. I could have even become a Darkwood Company member, if it didn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth. I certainly could have, but...I didn’t think of it. I was too desperate and too broke. After that...well, Canterlot didn’t want me, and I was wanted in Baltimare, so I was going to head to Vanhoover, try again, before Oracle found me.”

“Who’s Oracle?” Maple asked.

“A madpony with a magic book,” Mouse said. “He could read the future with it, said I’d be caught if I went to Vanhoover. This was my only way out, he said, and I believed him. So I went, and I killed, and I made a living out of it.”

“At the cost of good ponies,” Storm muttered.

“Cedar was a good pony,” Mouse agreed. “A great pony, and I haven’t slept with a clean conscious ever since I killed him. I will always carry that weight on my shoulders, and I have no excuse for it.”

“He would have done anything for you,” Storm said.

“I know. It makes it worse.”

Storm huffed. “You lied to me.”

“Well I couldn’t very well tell the truth, could I? ‘Hi! I’m Mouse! I’m here to kill the incredibly-likeable boss!’”

“You sold me a sob story!”

“I am a sob story,” Mouse said. “Maybe not the one you thought I was, but I am.”

“You pretended to be my friend!”

“Yeah, and I wished I could have been your friend, but here we are.”

Storm threw his empty bowl of oats. “I will not be mocked,” he growled.

“I’m not mocking you,” Mouse said. “I do wish this could have been different.”

Storm squinted at the assassin, and walked away. “I’m taking first watch,” he muttered, darkly.

Mouse let him go, finished his bowl, and drew his cloak around him as he moved to his bedroll. “I’ll take second.”

“Third,” Golden replied, as she finished her own bowl and climbed in her tent.

“I’m a fourth watch kind of guy,” Cut said, standing to wash the bowls, leaving Maple sitting behind himself, staring wide-eyed at the ponies around him.

“S-sorry…” he said under his breath. “I didn’t mean to…”

Yet no one answered him but the night sky.

Mouse’s turn to pull the cart came faster than expected. Before he knew it, the heavy yoke of the four other ponies sat squarely on his shoulders. He took it without a word, he simply pulled, as was expected of him.

After all, that’s why he was even here, because someone expected him to be the hero. There was really nothing stopping him from leaving, he could tell Seyella to sard off, and he could just leave the cart here and go. He could probably find a place to live in Unicornia, or at the very least, he could find a group of thieves there that could use his skills.

The only thing that kept him here right now, was the fact that Clover the Clever expected him to save everypony. The look in her eyes when she slowly died, as she poured the last of her life into a healing spell for his own injury was a powerful force, but even that wasn’t immune to his apathy if he brought it to bear.

Sill, she did right by him, so he’d do her the favor.

It was a slightly empowering, if infuriating thought. Yes, he could leave, he didn’t need to deal with this attitude Storm gave him. He didn’t need to take the glares, the growls, and the lecuters. No, instead, he was going to deal with them, because there was a pony that knew he was scum, but still knew he could get the job done.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He didn’t deserve this treatment. He tried to make peace with the pegasus, it was his fault for not meeting Mouse halfway. Sure, a pony was dead, but…

Mouse sighed.

Cedar was dead.

That wasn’t a thing that could easily be shaken.

He sighed as he pulled, before a stallion appeared on the road ahead. “Alright, you’ve gone on long enough.”

Mouse looked up. “What do you mean?”

“This is a toll road, see? And you’ve gone lone enough without paying the toll.”

Mouse blinked, and looked back at the cart, where the four ponies inside looked on from underneath their hooded cloaks.

“You’re kidding, right?” Mouse asked.

“Unfortunately not, good sir. You need to pay up. Ten gold pieces per head.”

“Ten?” Cut asked from the cart, cocking his head to the side. “That’s a little tight isn’t?”

“It is?” the stallion asked. “It is! We’re a simple toll, after all, we’re not highway robbers, after all.”

“What my friend means,” Golden said, “is that might be tight for normal ponies, but we are under official business, and we need to move on as quickly as possible.”

“Be that as it may, Miss. No one is above the law, so we have to collect.”

“That’s incredibly ironic,” Storm muttered.

“Look, we all know this is a stick up, we outnumber you, just let us through.”

“My good pony!” The bandit gasped in mock offense. “How dare you imply that I, a tool of our great Founders is a bandit!” He stopped a moment to chuckle darkly, before he smiled. “Besides, who says I’m out-numbered?”

Nine more ponies emerged from the surrounding underbrush, and Mouse sighed as he saw them.

Mouse turned to cart. “Goldie, how do want to do this?”

Golden looked to Cut. “Can you call them off?”

“They ain’t mine. They’d do better than 10 gold a head.”

“Now, we’ve had a civil discourse, but that’s up,” the bandit said, drawing a large woodsman’s axe from his back. “It’s time to pay now.”

Golden sighed. “Fine, let’s do this.”

Mouse moved first, ducking under the yoke, and pulling his knives free, he slammed into the earth pony blocking the way, stabbing him in the throat before he had time to move. Golden leaped out of the cart, and drawing her long-handled sword. One of the bandits yelped and shot, letting his arrow fly, only for it to bounce harmlessly off the guards armor.

Cut shot off the cart in a blaze of steel and feathers, a shortsword in each hoof, he tore through the right flank, slicing through bow, flesh, and bone with ease.

Storm commanded the battlefield, roaring a battlecry that shook the bandits to their core. All eyes were on him as he swung his sword, arrows digging into his shield but little else.

The distraction gave Maple all the time he needed to cast a spell. “Blizzard!” he yelled, freezing a pony solid as snow and ice whipped around him.

Mouse ducked beneath another blow, ate a spell cast at him by a unicorn, and stabbed another heart with ease. An axe came down toward him, and dug deep into ground, and pinned Mouse’s cloak.

Mouse took his blade to it himself, cutting himself free before he went for the heart.

A moment later, and the fight was done, ten bodies of poorly-armed bandits, surrounded by four, basically unharmed ponies.

Mouse sighed, as he looked down at his ruined cloak, that revealed his blank flank. “Great, now I have to buy a new one.”

Storm glanced at him.

“What?” Mouse asked annoyed.

Storm stared at him for a long moment, but said nothing.

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Alright, everypony, back in the cart, we still have a lot of distance to go.”

Maple stood still.

"Maple, you too, back to the cart."

"I....I'm alive," he said, before immediately vomiting all across the road.

Mouse sighed.

Chapter 34

Mouse stood in front of the door.

It took a long time to travel to Tall Tale, but they finally arrived, before the travel would drive Mouse any crazier. To be fair, Storm had lessened his insults, and Maple’s naïveté offered enough of a distraction to keep Mouse’s mind off of them as he explained the inner workings of Equestria’s wilderness, but that was merely a salve on an open wound.

Now, though, he had something else to face.

The door, with its massive, marble skull, ruby eyes, and crossed daggers, stared at him and the others as they all stood, moments away from stepping into the Assassin’s den. “Well this certainly looks like a place an assassin would live.”

“It does, don’t it?” Cut agreed. “I mean, what is it with assassins and skulls? I mean, sure it’s a bone and ‘ooh, I am death’ and all that, but there are so many other bones. Why not a spine? Or ribcage. Can’t live without either of those either.”

“Are you sure about this, Mouse?” Golden asked, standing next to him.

“Everytime you ask, I get less and less sure,” he muttered back, staring at the door that once served as the entrance to his home.

“That doesn’t make that a bad thing,” Golden replied. “If you’re not sure about this, then that is fine, we can go without her, if we need to.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want another assassin that you need to keep an eye on.”

“Well, I mean, you’re not wrong,” she said, before looking back at the others.

“How’s the kid doing?” Mouse asked.

“Hiding and being quiet in the back,” she answered. “I think he’s intimidated by the door, it is pretty creepy.”

“It’s about to get worse.”

She sighed. “Why do you do this to me?”

Mouse didn’t answer, and stepped forward.”Spirit! Spirit answer me.”

The rubies of the door began to glow, and the ethereal mare appeared. “Again. Again you must wake me. Why? Why can’t I sleep?” she whimpered.

“Hopefully only once more, Spirit,” Mouse said, “I wish to enter.”

“Every night, it takes you,” she began to recite. “You may try to escape, but you will suffer. Then it will last forever. What am I?”

“Sleep,” Mouse answered, and the door opened. “Thank you, Spirit. Now you may rest.”

“For how long?” the Spirit cried.

“Forever now,” Mouse said, before nodding to Cut, who merely nodded before he smashed the gems with the hilt of his sword.

The mare watched, surprised as the rubies turned to dust. “I...I get to sleep?” she asked.

“You do. Go rest. You’ve done more than enough,” Mouse said.

A ghostly tear fell from her face and she smiled as she faded from view. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Cut shook his. “Now this is kinda messed up, ya gotta admit.”

“Yeah, but I was more terrified for my life,” Mouse said, before turning to the others. “Alright, we go in, you guys stay together, I’ll be up front, and hopefully far enough forward that you’ll be out of range of any fireballs that could be thrown.”

“You really think she’d do that?” Maple asked.

“She has, several times,” Mouse replied simply.

“That’s mares for ya, though. No offense, Miss,” Cut said with a smirk.

Golden rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go, ponies,” Mouse said. “Before I decide this is a bad idea again.”

They began to move in, squeezing past the now dead door to enter the quiet, empty halls of the Assassin’s den.

The hallways of dark stone were bare but for the occasional red banner, and decorative skull, but anything that was of any value was long gone. Mouse led them through the hallways, keeping his eyes on the walls and the dark corners of the ceiling.

The four ponies behind him watched as they were lead through, past empty rooms, and bare tables. “Not a very happy place,” Cut muttered.

“It’s a haven of criminals and cutthroats,” Storm grumbled. “What did you expect?”

“Hey, just because you’re a criminal doesn’t mean you don’t know how to decorate,” Cut said.

“The both of you quiet down.”

“Why? If anypony’s here, they’ll know we’re here even if we sneak in,” Cut said. “There’s no hiding from someone who knows the terrain, and is an expert on infiltration on top of that.”

Golden glared at him. “I still don’t like it.”

“Noted,” Cut said in a terribly raspy stage-whisper.

Golden glared at him again, before she moved on, moving the smaller group forward after Mouse.

“Wraith,” Mouse called out. “Wraith, are you here?”

“Let’s hope not,” Strom muttered under his breath.

“Wraith, please, I mean you no harm, we just need to talk.”

“To talk?” a voice came from the darkness. “You came to talk yet you bring more murderers here?”

“They’re not murderers,” Mouse said, continuing to walk forward. “They’re ponies who need your help.”

“Like the last ones that came after you? The unicorns in armor that charged through here, and desecrated the bodies of the others?”

“Who? No, Wraith, we need your help. We just want to talk.”

“Just like you talked to Oracle before poisoning him?” she barked back from her hidden hiding place.

“Oracle poisoned himself, Wraith,” Mouse said. “The madness took him and he poisoned himself and everyone else.”

“So you say,” Wraith growled, still hidden. “And how do I know you didn’t kill him the moment he turned his back to you.”

“I don’t know anything about poisons,” Mouse said. “I can’t brew them, Ghoul had to tell me how to use them. I fight things, and stab them in the back, that’s how I work.”

“But you knew you couldn’t take Demon, you had to take him carefully.”

“And using a poison I know nothing about is careful?” Mouse asked back.

Meanwhile, Cut nudged Golden and whispered in her ear. “Demon? Wraith? All these ponies are trying way too hard.”

“You killed them, Ghost! You killed them all!”

“I didn’t kill any of them!”

“And why should I believe you?” she yelled back. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”

“Do it!” he yelled. “Do it and take this from me! I don’t want it!”

Everyone went silent.

“Kill me, and help them. It’s fine. I don’t care. All I need you to do is help them afterward.”

The wasn’t an immediate answer. Instead, the darkness wafted around the gathered ponies. “You want to die, Ghost?” She asked, her voice coming from above and the right. “I can accommodate that.”

A beam shot out from the left, slamming into Mouse’s chest, and he screamed in pain as he was blown from his feet.

He hit the ground hard, the air being knocked from his lungs. Pain flooded his whole body, and wracked him, worse than anything he had ever faced before. Someone yelled his name, but he could not hear them for the sound of the ringing in his ears, and he could not see as his vision went white.

He rolled, agony flooding his every nerve, as Wraith’s words cut through the pain. “I can accommodate death, so long as you suffer.”

The pain faded a moment, and Mouse saw Storm and Golden standing over him.

“You heard him!” Wraith said, standing across from him. “He surrendered his life! I have a right to kill him!”

“I will not have him murdered,” Storm said. “He has crimes to answer for.”

“He will answer to me first!”

“No! We need both of you, so stand down!” Golden barked.

“His life is mine!”

“He will be hanged, not tortured!”

“Shut up, the both of you!” Cut yelled, drawing a shortsword. “Calm down or Ventus help me…”

“Stop,” Mouse rasped. “Stop it…”

The ponies all glanced at him as he slowly stood up. “I’ll take it, alright? I’ll take whatever you have to give.”

“No, Mouse,” Golden whispered.

“I’ll take it. That way I’ll finally get last laugh. I’ll take death here.”

“See! See! He’s my prey, and no one else can take him!” Wraith said with a grin.

“No, he’s not getting out of this that easily!” Storm yelled back.

“I will die, however you want,” Mouse said, feeling his hooves waver beneath him. “But first, I need to know something. Who came? Who came after me?”

Wraith glanced at him, staring him up and down for a moment or two, before she spoke. “They came to kill us. I heard them from the rafters, they said they were glad to see you could finish the job after all. You betrayed us, just like I always knew you would.”

Mouse sighed. “Baron Jet’s ponies then.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Baron Jet, our Boss,” Mouse repeated. “He hired me to kill everyone here.”

“So you did kill them!”

“I was hired to,” Mouse said, before shaking his head. “But I couldn’t. Oracle said he did it for me.”

Wraith growled. “I knew he’d call the hit on us one day,” she muttered, “I just didn’t think he hire one of us. Much less that one of us would do it.”

“I didn’t kill them, Wraith.”

“You had to!” She yelled. “There was nopony else!”

“I told you, Oracle did it,” Mouse said, before he smirked. “He probably did it to keep the Baron’s ponies from killing all of us.”

“That...that…” Wraith began. “That almost makes sense, for Oracle.”

“Told you,” Mouse said. “Now are you going to kill me, or we just going to stand around?”

Wraith glared at him, for a long moment, before her gaze drifted to the armed ponies around him.

Another beam slammed into Mouse chest. He growled in pain, but stayed standing.

“Maybe I will kill you,” Wraith said, even as both Golden and Storm had both taken a step closer to answer her attack. “Maybe not. You seem to suffer more alive, and that does please me.”

Mouse growled. “Glad I could bring you such joy.”

Wraith had a number of supplies, but more importantly, she had the Shadowgates. With all of the major centers of Equestria open to them, Mouse assured the party that they’d be able to move faster, further, and cover more ground in less time.

The only thing they needed to do now was find the Horn’s headquarters.

A map of known Equestria, bought by Cut, was rolled out across a scarred table, with cities marked with small flags to denote how likely the location of a headquarters would be.

The only problem with the set up was that there were flags in every city. From where they stood they couldn’t rule out a single city. Each and every one of them could be hiding the Headquarters, and that’s assuming there was a centralized headquarters. It was just as likely that they had hundreds of smaller cells all across the country, and could be working from any one of them.

“We can’t rule out Canterlot,” Mouse said. “They could still have a hideout there.”

“Look, Mouse, I appreciate the paranoia,” Cut replied, “but I ran the Canterlot underground. The capitol is clean.”

“They wouldn’t interact with you anyway,” Mouse said. “They’re a Unicronian nobles group. They wouldn’t be underground so much as behind closed doors.”

“And I would know, I’ve been going behind those doors to rob them blind.”

“But that leaves us with checking everywhere, even though Canterlot is clean.”

“We don’t know if Canterlot is clean. We’d have to check anyway. There’s no way we can get around it.”

“They’re too close there, they’d be found.”

“The Horn is trying to kill Princess Platinum. They want her gone, because they hate the idea that their precious Unicorn poster child abdicated the throne for Gold.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because they used to preach that until the guards ran them out of town!”

Mouse sighed, before turning to Golden and Maple, who just entered the room. “Goldie, what’ve you found?”

“I managed to get the door fortified, but Maple said setting up runes would be a bad idea,” she responded.

“Why?”

“Because there aren’t any plants around,” the younger earth pony answered. “If I had something to feed the runes, I could work with it, but instead it’d probably take our life energy instead.”

“Okay, and I suppose buying gems for Wraith to build some magical defenses is out of the question as well?”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” Golden said.

“Okay, and Storm?”

“He’s still cleaning,” she replied. “Apparently he’s not happy with how Wraith took care of things.”

“I was alone,” the aforementioned unicorn muttered, seemingly appearing from the shadows. “It’s harder to move bodies without help.”

“Be that as it may,” Mouse said, “at this point, I think we’ll need to call him in.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Golden asked.

“It’s not that anything has necessarily happened,” Mouse said, “but we’re going to need his help if we’re going to figure out what out next step is.”

“What’s the problem?” Wraith asked.

“We’re trying to find a ring of cultists that are trying to destroy Equestria. Right now, we’re trying to find their main hideout,” Mouse explained. “So far we have very little information as to where they can be, though we do know that the Horn of the Sacred Oath is a Unicornian cult. As such cities with typically large unicorn populations are our best bet.”

Wraith watched, eyebrow raised, as Mouse began scurrying around the table.

“This leaves Vanhoover, Manehatten, Canterlot and Fillydelphia as our main targets,” Mouse continued.

“And Canterlot?” Cut asked one final time.

Mouse turned to glare at his fellow thief. “And Canterlot…” he muttered. “Unfortunately, that leaves us four major cities that we need to search for any sign of this activity, which could take weeks per city, even with the Shadowgates cutting time down.

“So, the question is how do we find these ponies in these cities fast enough that they don’t kill the Founders while we look for them,” Mouse said, pleased at his explanation.

Wraith gave him a slow, and unimpressed blink. “I hope you didn’t come all this way to ask me about gathering intelligence.”

“What, don’t you know anything?” Cut asked.

“No, Oracle told us everything we needed to know each time,” she explained.

“Don’t worry,” Mouse said. “I’ve been thinking about this on the way here. If you have no other way of finding where they are. I can read the Tome.”

Wraith blinked. “Oh you do want to die,” she whispered.

“I don’t need to read a lot, just enough to know where they are,” Mouse said, glancing up at her.

“That’s still crazy.”

“Alright,” Golden said. “What I am missing, what is this Tome?”

“The Tome of Faust is a book, in which possibly everything we know or everything that exists is written in,” Mouse said. “I have no idea why, or how, but it’s there. Supposedly, the cost of this is that I would begin to lose my mind, but it would give us everything we need to do.”

“Uh, huh…” Cut said, “and I just happen to have a compass of bastard-finding.”

“I’m serious,” Mouse said. “Oracle ran this place on that book. He hired me through that with the sheer power of manipulation seeing into the future gave him. It works, and I don’t know how.”

“It’s true,” Wraith said. “That book has very powerful magic tied to it.”

“So Mouse isn’t an awful liar, then?” Storm said, walking up next to them.

“Assuming he told you that he was hired by a pony that had a book that could tell the future,” Wraith replied.

Strom didn’t answer.

“So, if worst comes to worst,” Mouse said, “I can use the Tome to find the Horn.”

“No you can’t,” Wraith said.

“Why not?”

“Because the Tome’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” he asked.

“Those ponies I told you about, Baron Jet’s soldiers? They took it.”

“They took it?” Mouse asked.

She nodded. “I was almost positive you killed us so you could sell it.”

Mouse blinked. “That’s...unfortunate,” he said.

“Question:” Storm said. “Why does an Equestrian noble need a Tome that has the future written in it?”

“Oh, he’s not Equestrian,” Wraith said. “He’s Unicornian.”

All eyes went to Wraith.

“Could he be running the Horn, here?”

“No…” Mouse said. “He’s fine with uniting the three tribes. He just thinks that…He just…”

“What?” Golden asked.

“He just feels that Equestria should be built into a more useful state. He...Oh, Sweet Luna he’s using them.”

The others blinked.

“He’s using the Horn to get rid of the Founders. He’s pinning it on an extremist unicorn group, before he’ll sweep in, and save Equestria in the name of Unicornia. He’s going to use Equestria to fight his war in Unicornia.”

“What are you talking about?” Storm asked.

“Baron Jet’s a Golden Revolutionary. He wants to put Princess Gold on the throne of Unicornia. The Horn of the Sacred Oath is a bunch of old money unicorn supremacists, they’re all for killing Silver just because she’s a failure of a Unicornian noble. The moment that Jet comes in, he says that there are Unicornian nobles that want to help Equestria.

“If he wipes out the Horn after they take out the Founders, he’ll be a hero. With that power, and the Tome, he could manipulate the entire country into making him the leader and use Equestria to get Golden back on the throne.”

“That’s...That’s ridiculous, Mouse.” Cut said.

“Is it? All he needs to know is what he wants to do, and then read how he got it to happen.”

“Yes, and what are the chances that this will actually happen?” Storm asked.

“There’s no way of knowing,” Golden said.

“No,” Mouse said. “No there is one way we can find out.”

“How?”

Mouse swiped all the flags off the table. “We steal the Tome.”

“What?”

“We find Baron Jet’s hideout, find the Tome, and if nothing else, we read it. We’ll figure out what he’s planning, and we can prepare for the counter-offensive in a single turn.”

“That’s…”

“It could work,” Wraith said. “It’s crazy, but it could work.”

Mouse looked to the others.

“Um...I guess we can work with that?” Maple asked more than said.

Cut nodded and smiled. “A little B&E will do many good.”

Storm shrugged. “I’ve come this far.”

Golden nodded “We’re with you.”

Mouse nodded. “Then we have a heist to plan.”

“You resolve to continue pushing yourself. Perhaps there's more to you than you thought.”

Chapter 35

Crickets sang in the night as the crew of six ponies began to slowly approach Baron Jet’s Manor house. The manor stood on a lone hill overlooking a nearby moor, and, in traditional unicornian fashion, it proudly jutted into the sky, leaving black shapes that stood out against the backdrop of stars.

The plan was fairly straight forward. Storm and Golden would approach the front door, asking for help in finding a fugitive rune caster, and capturing him alive. If the baron sent a few ponies to go with them, then there’d be less eyes in the manor to look out for the infiltrators, Mouse, Cut, and Wraith.

If he did not send anyone to help, then this left Maple the chance to begin using magic on the house, hopefully shaking things up and opening paths up for infiltration or escape. “The plan will work,” Mouse said, before silently wondering if the Baron had already read about the plan in the Tome.

He pushed the thought aside as he moved through the grass surrounding the manor, stalking through it like a predator. If Jet already read the Tome, and knew what they were doing, then they were doomed from the start, there was no other chance.

With careful movements, they slowly pushed their way forward, until all three of them were perched, ready to pounce, just beneath the window. Cut pulled a small mirror, and slowly raised it above the windowsill, and peeked into the room. “We’re clear.”

“I got us in,” Wraith said, before her magic opened the window latch.

The three ponies slipped into the house, and Cut closed the window behind them.

Now it was all hoof signals. Cut pointed to the door, and down the hall to the left, before pointing again at Wraith.

She nodded, before she went invisible, disappearing from view.

Cut then pointed to himself, and pointed up, meaning he’d find a way upstairs.

Mouse nodded, before he slipped to the door, and checked the right side of the hallway. He could just barely hear the sounds of ponies talking toward the foyer, the words mumbled by the distance. Checking the left just to be sure, he found the hallway clear, and motioned to Cut that he didn’t see anyone.

Cut smirked, gave Mouse a pat on the back, and took off, hovering along the ceiling of the hallway to stay out of sight best he could.

This left Mouse, just him and the right side of the hallway. Going right seemed like the worst idea, it would head directly into whoever was at the door, and would probably get him caught. However, Mouse was willing to bet a lot of gold bits that he would find himself heading that way anyway, because Seyella hated him.

Well, if he had to go that way, he might as well go now, while the pony in the foyer was still distracted. Considering that, if nothing else, it would get him to a good position to begin shadowing the Baron if he needed to.

So, steeling himself, he cast his invisibility spell, and began to sneak toward the front of the house.

“I’m sorry,” Mouse heard, getting closer to the front door. “The Master is not in at the moment, and I cannot offer any help.”

“Well, that’s unfortunately understandable,” Golden said. “In that case, make sure that you stay inside in case the runecaster makes his way here.”

As Mouse turned the corner, and stepped into the foyer, he saw Storm and Golden standing in the door, staring up at what was presumably the butler, who appeared much like what Mouse thought a butler would. The foyer was fairly large, and gave Mouse plenty of room to maneuver around the butler, though it only gave him two other entrances to check.

“I will certainly take that into account, Officer,” the butler said. “I do hope you catch him, and have a safe night.”

“Thank you, sir,” Storm said with a bow.

Golden offered the same. “Have a good night, M’lord.”

The door shut closed, and the butler shook his head, before moving into the left room.

Mouse moved toward the right, and gave it a cursory glance, before his eyes followed the butler.

He turned, and sat at a nearby desk, and mindlessly filled in a handful of papers, before he checked the window.

Mouse watched with interest, before the butler stepped toward one of his bookshelves, and pulled a book free. It clicked loudly, and a the bookshelf slowly swung open.

“Well,” Mouse thught, “that’s promising.”

The butler took one last look around before he stepped inside the bookshelf, and Mouse slowly made his way closer, before he saw the door begin to close. He rushed for the secret door, trying to keep his hooves from clopping against the hardwood floor as he tried to follow the butler.

He squeezed through the door, just barely, and he was nearly pressed against the butler to do it, but so far, there was no sign that he knew. The butler began to descend the stairs that were hidden away, and Mouse couldn’t help thinking that a hidden basement was exactly the place to find a book like the Tome.

The butler continued down, with Mouse following after him. They moved quickly and quietly, further and further down into the depths of the manor, before they finally came to a single, large room.

The chamber was covered wall-to-wall in maps, charts, and ancient scrolls. Tables filled with plans, letters, and documents, and among them was Baron Jet, staring at a handful of books, notes, and the Tome itself. The Tome was shut, and Baron Jet simply studied the the cover, checking and double checking the artifact.

“My Lord, can I help you?” The Butler asked.

“Reading the Tome too much causes madness,” Baron Jet said. “What I need to do is to find the pages that have what I need so that I may use them, and be done with it. Unless you want to risk reading the pages yourself, I do not have a job that you can help me with, no.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Who was at the door?” the Baron asked.

“An Equestrian Guard and Darkwood Company Member. They apparently have a joint operation to hunt down a rogue Runecaster.”

The Baron grunted. “Earth ponies with magic was always a terrible idea. They were bound to hurt themselves eventually.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Regardless, I do suppose that I must keep my eyes on this caster. It would not do to have my house simply blown apart by a rogue earth pony that does not understand what he wields. I shall have to retire from this and watch my home, I suppose. Ah, well, if nothing else, if we can capture him, then I will have at least one test subject to read the Tome.”

“Is it wise to give such a pony that knowledge?” the butler asked.

“If they go mad, can they even use it properly?” the Baron asked. “As it was, Oracle was barely functional, and he only managed because his mind would not let him forget what he read. If that was not the case, he would have fallen apart long ago.”

“Of course, sir.”

Mouse watched for a moment more, as the Baron took a step back from the Tome. “Ah well, if we find this Runecaster, then I will have a better chance of working through its mysteries.”

The baron took a step back, and disappeared back up the stairs, followed by his butler. And that left Mouse alone with the Tome.

There was something rather soothing about knowing that the Baron did not yet read the Tome. Though, now that he thought about it, that could simply be a cover. “Oh, of course I haven’t read the Tome, and know that you’re listening, this isn’t a trap, I swear!”

Mouse dropped his spell, becoming visible to the empty room. When nothing jumped up to attack him, Mouse surmised there wasn’t a magical trap waiting for him. Sliding across the room, he came up to the desk, holding the Tome. It had not changed a bit since he saw it last, and the quill and ink that appeared to be stamped into its wooden cover seemed to shine in the darkness.

He slowly, carefully, touched the cover, and the leather felt cool to the touch. A shiver ran down his spine, for reasons he didn't quite understand.

“I shouldn’t touch this,” was the first thought through his head. He knew it was filled with such great, terrible knowledge that could make or unmake the world. He shook as he simply touched the cover before pulling away.

It was a powerful, and terrifying compulsion, because he knew it was true. This was a book of such power and such influence that the world would be a plaything in the hooves that held it.

Mouse became acutely aware for a moment that he just wanted a normal life.

He reached out and touched the book again, and once more there was a flash of terror at the power it could wield. He released it again, almost immediately.

He tried a third time, before he realized that the book was the source of this feeling. Well, beyond its intrinsic, terrible power. There was some kind of enchantment on it, a magic that let the one who touched it know what exactly it was.

Pushing past the fear that took hold of him as he came into contact the book, he slowly picked it up, free from the stand. It felt heavy in his hooves, so unbearably heavy, but he carefully took it up and held to the light.

A terrible thought crossed his mind, an urge to crack open the pages and read the secrets of the universe. To know the future in ways that only the con-ponies that inhabited the cells of the Canterlot prison claimed in order to scam money out of the average pony. He could read it now and simply understand everything that was about to happen. He could read it and find out if someone else would stop the Baron, he could find out if someone, anyone would take up the quest if he just left it now.

He could even read it and find the place where he could get normal job he wanted. He could find the normal life, and the normal home he was entitled to. It was all in there.

But he would go mad.

But if he went mad, he would never have to worry about this stupid Fate of his again. Seyella couldn’t doing anything with an insane piece on her board, he would be free. All at the small, small price of his sanity.

He let his hoof drag against the cover, weighing the terrible options in his mind. There was so much he could learn, so much he could do, and not even Seyella could tell him what to do once he knew what was written in the pages. He would be the master of his own destiny, finally, after all this time.

All it would take is to open the book and read.

And then he’d go mad.

But would he? Even if he opened the pages once? Baron Jet was unsure, but reading it once could mean he’d be fine, and even if this was all some ploy by the Baron, then that meant that he had read it at least once, right?

And...and what if it was a ploy? What if all of this was a trap, set up by the Baron who knew they’d be coming? What if this wasn’t even the real Tome, but a decoy? He’d have no way of finding out unless he read it, right?

He opened the cover.

He had to be sure, right? If nothing else?

He turned the first page.

It was blank.

He turned the next page, blank.

The next, then the next, then the next.

All blank.

It...it was a fake. This wasn’t the Tome! This was a decoy! It—

A sentence appeared at the top of the page. “Mouse stood in the empty room, reading the Tome.”

He blinked.

Another sentence filled in. “Above him, Baron Jet walked through his mansion, unaware of the three intruders, or the plan to secure the Tome.”

Mouse turned back a page, and read about himself sneaking back into the room. He turned back a page again, and read about his journey here. Back again, and instead of hitting the cover, he found another page, detailing the plan they put together. He flipped back more pages. His meeting with Golden, meeting the alicorns, his time running, working with Oracle and the assassins, his time with the thieves, his life in prison, his birth, his parents, it was all there.

Then, he saw something else, a sentence written in the margins, in a different hoofwriting than the rest of the book.

“You realize that all your life you have been coasting along as if you were in a dream. Suddenly, facing the trials of the last few days, you have come alive—Clover”

He started to shake, before a single thought shot to the front of his mind. “You need to know what happens.”

He moved ahead, tracing back along his path, finding the margin notes he missed the first time. “You realize that you are catching on to the secret of success. It's just a matter of concentration.—Clover”

“You've done things the hard way. But without taking risks, taking responsibility for failure... how could you have understood?—Clover”

“You've learned a lot about Equestria... and about yourself. It's hard to believe how ignorant you were, but now you have so much more to learn.—Clover”

Then there were more, as he moved forward into the pages he had not yet experienced.

“Now you just stay at your peek as long as you can. There's no one stronger in Equestia, but there's always someone younger... a new challenger.—Clover”

“You've been trying too hard, thinking too much. Relax. Trust your instincts. Just be yourself. Do the little things, and the big things take care of themselves.—Clover”

“By supernatural effort, you can avoid slipping backwards for a while. But one day, you'll lose a step, or drop a beat, or miss a detail... and you'll be gone forever.—Clover”

And then he came to the end of his life. He read the final pages of his life and that was it, his story was done. There were no more tales, no more adventures, that was it.

But he kept going, kept reading, seeing more and more of the world beyond his death. Equestria rising to a kingdom unlike all others. The rise of the Pillars to form the greatest foundations of the country, the Sun and Moon becoming Princesses to rule the kingdom, the birth of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, gems that did not even exist yet.

It was all there, in the book.

He shut the book. He slammed the covers shut, and shook. He knew too much now. He knew so much, so many years, and ponies, and events that had not yet come to pass laid open before him. The life of every child, every mother, father, daughter and son was his to behold for the briefest moment. The weight of those lives, literally millions of lives, fell on him and he knew, and suddenly understood, exactly why Seyella hated him so much.

It was either him, or all of them. He needed to make these sacrifices, or the millions of ponies after him would suffer, and he never truly appreciated that until just now.

He was still shaking.

He looked back down at the book.

He...he had to focus. Here and now. Here and now.

He needed to get out. He had the Tome and…

He would lose the Tome. The chaos would be too much, he’d lose it.

Sweet Celestia, there was so much. So much, how would he remember it all?

He had to get out.

Golden stared up at the Manor, before looking to Storm, who was mentally counting the time as it passed. They’d have to send Maple up there soon, but they had to give the infiltrators as much time as possible.

“It’s time,” Storm mumbled.

Golden nodded, before she held up a mirror, and flashed it in the direction of Maple, off in the distance, hidden by the underbrush.

A flash of moonlight from another mirror told her that he received the message, before Maple’s small silhouette was seen, crossing the plain toward the house.

“We need to be ready,” Golden said, drawing her long-handled sword between her teeth.

“Do you think he’s sincere?” Storm asked suddenly.

“What?” she asked, balancing the blade on her back.

“Mouse, do you think he means all the nonsense he’s said. The stuff about rather dying than wanting to kill? About wanting a normal life?”

“I think so,” Golden said. “Mouse is...well, he is a criminal, but even when he was thieving in Baltimare he seemed to have standards.”

“Oh, so because he didn’t steal from those who didn’t have enough to take from, we should fall at his hooves in worship. I see.”

“What do you want me to say, Strom?” Golden asked. “Do you want me to say that he’s just as bad as you think he is? That he’s incorrigible, and irredeemable? Mouse is a pony, and like most ponies he has good and bad in him, there’s nothing new to that.”

Storm snorted, and drew his blade. “Maybe I do.”

Any further conversation was cut short by the house exploding. The eastern wall was torn asunder as Maple’s rune did its work. More importantly, that was their cue to move.

They rushed forward, weapons drawn as they “chased” Maple up the hill.

“Get him!” Golden yelled through clenched teeth as Maple gave his best maniacal laugh.

“Ha ha ha!” the young runecaster yelled aloud. “Infinite power is all mine! You simple mortals are…” he hesitated, “beneath me!” In the defense of young Maple, any speech delivered with a squeak at the end would not be intimidating. Luckily, his spells made up for it.

Fire erupted along the side of the Manor, bruning the walls as his runestones hovered around him, eating the life of nearby trees and grass.

“You’re under arrest!” Golden yelled.

The Baron stepped out burning wreckage, horn glowing.

“You are the symbol of oppression!” Maple yelled, trying to sell his bit, “you are the very—”

“Maple get down!” Mouse yelled, tackling the young stallion to the ground as a powerful beam shot above him.

“He’s not buying it, run!” Mouse yelled, picking up the young caster.

“What?”

“Run!” Mouse yelled.

The thief booked it down the hill, and the others took a moment to look back at the Baron before running.

Golden sheathed her blade, and chased after the thief, quickly followed by Storm. A handful of beams shot after them, but they were far enough away that the Baron’s aim was inaccurate in the dark.

“What about Cut and Wraith?” Golden asked.

“We’ll have to meet them later, but that’s not important right now.”

“What?” Storm asked.

Mouse suddenly stopped. “Okay, he won’t chase us to this point. Now we need to go around to the North side.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Storm said. “What’s going on? What do you mean it’s not important right now? What is important.”

“What’s important, Storm, is that I was wrong,” Mouse said. “The Baron is not going to manipulate all of the country to make him the leader of Equestria.”

“Then what is he going to do?” Golden asked.

“He is going to literally rewrite history.”

Chapter 36

Golden watched as Mouse paced around the room, and still wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this. Ever since he read the Tome, he seemed more off than usual. He rambled about certain scenarios, and how sure he was that they’d happen, but then he provide an insane, complex plan to negate it.

Even now, he had just described a ridiculously insane, incredibly roundabout plan, seemingly for no other reason than the ridiculousness of its complexity. Even worse, it seemed to rely on a hundred different factors that he simply assumed would happen.

But if the Founders trusted him, then so would she.

“Alright,” Storm said, standing as they gathered in the their planning room of the old assassin hideout. “Just so we're clear, the Baron is trying to rewrite history, and he needs to go to something called the “Tree of Harmony,” am I right so far?”

“Yes, but he doesn't know that yet,” Mouse replied.

“So, then the plan is to tell people to raise an army so we can then face the Baron, who is only going to raise his own army because of the army we are going to raise.”

“Yes.”

“And the point is that while the armies are fighting each other, the Baron will be open to being attacked, which he otherwise won't be because of what now?”

“If he thinks it's just us coming after him, he will focus on us, and will know what we do before we do it. By making him focus on the army, he will not read about us.”

“Right…” Storm said. “So after that, we then take the Tome, which we were going to take the other night, until you stopped us, and kill him. Then everypony lives happily ever after?”

“You all will,” Mouse agreed.

“Yeah, why am I having a difficult time believing that? Just any of it working, why do I have a hard time believing it’ll happen?”

“Several reasons, not the least of which being that I’m the one saying it,” Mouse replied.

Storm raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you’re right, you’re right, but...”

“This will work, I saw it work. I just need you to trust me”

“That’s so comforting,” Storm muttered.

“I know it doesn’t help,” Mouse said, “but I need you to trust me. More importantly, we need to make our first step toward the plan.”

“Yes, and what is that first step?” Cut asked. “Are we petitioning the Founders?”

“Not yet, that’s the next step,” Mouse said. “First we need to make for the Darkwood Forest.”

“The Darkwood? Why the Darkwood?” Wraith asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Mouse said. “Goldy, I need you and Storm to come with me on this.”

“Wait, just us two? No one else?” Golden asked.

“Yes, you two will make a better connection than the others.”

“Glad you decided to include me in your plans, Mouse,” Cut said, reclining in a hammock of all things.

“Don’t worry, I’m bringing you for the next one.”

“Yeah, I see how it is.”

“There’s a portal out to wilderness which will get us close, but still a few days away from where we need to go.”

“Wait, when you say the Darkwood, do you mean into the Darkwood?” Golden asked.

“Of course not,” Storm replied. “That’s incredibly dangerous, and there’s nothing in the Darkwood of any note to beg—”

“Yes, we’re going into the Darkwood,” Mouse replied.

Storm turned. “Are you serious? I’ve come to understand that you are a liar and a murderer, but I thought you were certainly better than crazy. There’s nothing in the Darkwood worth the time of going in there. There are just monsters, and a chance to make some gold. What can we get from there?”

“There’s something greater than gold, that much is certain,” Mouse muttered cryptically.

“You know, I think I preferred it when you were smug and a criminal than to this strange, mysterious you that you’ve suddenly built for yourself,” Golden said.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mouse said, before he shook himself, not unlike a dog shaking the water off his fur, before he gave a small smile. “We’ll leave in an hour and half, I’ll get some supplies down in town.”

“Oh, well, I should go with you,” Golden said. “I have the money, after all.”

“As you wish,” Mouse said, before he began to make his way toward the door.

Golden scoffed. “Trust me, I do not wish to be with you.”

They soon made their way to the still-budding town of Tall Tale, which bustled with the cries of nearly a hundred ponies all moving gems and ores. Golden watched them move carefully as Mouse led her down the dirt-covered streets. “There’s a store I started buying from this down this way. He’s...well, he’s not honest, but he’ll be fair. I think it’s because he suspected I worked for assassins when I shopped there the second time.”

“So what happened when you read the Tome, anyway, Mouse?” Golden asked.

“I told you, I read the future, as if it were plain as day.”

“You keep saying that, and I still have a hard time believing you.”

“But you still trust me enough to come with me. To follow my plan. You must believe some of it, at least.”

“It helps that it’s the only plan to actually take care of the problem,” Golden said. “Besides, this is a better deal than wandering behind a pegasus all day.”

“Why Officer,” Mouse asked, “Do you mean to tell me that there are some troubles in the workplace?”

“Alright,” Golden said. “Look, I’m not going to give you, a known criminal, knowledge about what goes on in the guard.”

“Hey, I’m getting a pardon, right?” Mouse asked. “It’s part of the deal, isn’t it?”

“Be that as it may—”

“Be that as it may, the pegasi think they’re just better at being a guard than any other pony on the force. They claim Pegasopolis discipline even though most of them were never even in the Old World. All of those old ponies had all retired by now.”

“And how do you know that?” Golden asked.

“It was obvious, just from watching how they treated you. Or the prisoners.”

“That sounds like it comes from experience,” Golden said. “Did the guards give you a rough time in prison?”

“My whole life,” Mouse muttered.

“They were probably just sick of arresting you,” Golden said.

“No, that’s not it,” Mouse said. “I wasn’t arrested the first time.”

“What?” Golden asked. “What do you mean you were arrested the first time?”

“My parents were arrested,” Mouse said. “They were Golden Revolutionaries, and were arrested after making their way here as political prisoners. I was born in the Prison beneath Canterlot only a few nights before they escaped. I was left behind.”

“Wait…” Golden said, pausing in the middle of the street. “You don’t mean that you literally have been in prison your whole—”

“I didn’t walk free until about a year ago now.”

“I...how? You should have been found! You should have been helped! How did no one notice you weren’t supposed to be there?”

“I’m not sure on that one,” Mouse said. “To be fair, I only just learned about my parents when I read the Tome, and I know I didn’t catch everything.”

“That’s...that’s awful, Mouse.”

“It is what it is,” Mouse said. “It can’t be changed. Especially not now, after all these years. What about the future? What are y—”

“It is what it is?” Golden asked, horrified. “You were wrongfully imprisoned! As an infant! What’s worse, no one tried to save you! You were locked in there for years!”

“And nothing can change that,” Mouse said. “Look, it happened, all I can do is move forward. Look, why don’t we talk about something else, alright?”

“I mean...I suppose? This, I don’t know how to process this.”

“Then don’t. Look, what about you? What are you going to do after all this? Are you going to stay with the guard?”

“Well, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I’m just curious. Maybe you don’t want to put up with the pegasi anymore, maybe you’ve just had enough of guard work.”

“No, I’m fine. I enjoy guard work. I want to help ponies, that’s why I joined in the first place.”

“Alright, alright, I’m just curious.”

They finally came to the shop, and Mouse led Golden inside. After a quick shake down, and paying some money for a number of supplies, they left now loaded up, and began to head back. Overall, they had plenty of supplies for their venture into the Darkwood for a fair price.

And Mouse only had to threaten the shopkeep’s life once.

They continued back up the mountain, packs laden with supplies, up until they reached the door.

“I suppose that if I had to pick, I’d be a farmer,” Golden said.

“What?” Mouse asked, caught off guard by the sudden outburst.

“If I had to pick something other than being a guard.”

“A farmer?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Hm...That’s...interesting,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. It just seems a little...I don’t know, I can’t picture you farming.”

“I mean, it runs in the family.”

Mouse nodded. “Yes, and I suppose family is important to earth ponies.”

Not an hour later, the three of them were moving. Traveling along the eastern edge of the Darkwood, they traveled for two and a half days. After those long, relatively quiet days, they reached the river that Mouse had found not that long ago when he left the Darkwood.

“We’re still another few hours away from our destination, but the Sun’s getting low, so we should probably camp here tonight.”

“There’s the first reasonable idea I’ve heard since we started this ridiculous journey,” Storm muttered.

“I’ll find us some firewood, look for berries, and scout the area,” Mouse said. “You two stay and set up camp. I will be back soon.”

“And there goes our all-knowing hero,” Storm grumbled. “Honestly, he’s going to lead us to our deaths at this rate.”

“I thought the Darkwood Company frequently made their way into the, you know, Darkwood? You are kind of named after it, so why are you so worried about it?”

“Because the Darkwood is dangerous. It’s filled with hungry, wild beasts that will gladly eat a pony without a second thought. Yes, I went into the Darkwood, but there was always a plan. There was an entry point, an exit point, an estimated time of how long we’d be there. Mouse has not shared any plan, so I can only assume he has none. That’s the kind of thinking that will get us killed.”

“He has a plan,” Golden said.

“And how are you so sure? Did he share anything with you?”

“No, but he obviously has one. He knows who he’s bringing and where, that’s not the sign of someone who doesn’t have a plan.”

“If we’re lucky,” Storm muttered.

“He has a plan, Storm. He’s always had one, even as a criminal. He’s too smart to go in without a plan.”

“Oh, and why do you have so much faith in him? Why are you even defending him. He’s a criminal.”

“Because he’s trying,” Golden said. “He legitimately is trying to save everyone, and I’m willing to bet he’s willing to lay his life down to do it, too.”

“And how do you know he’s not going to betray us later? How do you know he’s actually trying? What if this is all some elaborate ruse?”

“Because…” Golden began. “Because...because the Founders trust him.”

“What?”

“Princess Platinum trusts him, and that’s enough for me,” Golden said.

“Princess Platinum trusts him?” Storm asked. “Never have I feared for the sake of the country so!”

“Oh, come off it,” Golden said. “He has the backing of the Founders, so I trust him, and if nothing else, he treats the Founders with more respect than I have ever seen him treat anyone. He honors them in ways I still don’t understand, and that’s good enough for me.”

Strom didn’t respond. Instead, he simply continued to set up the tents, while Golden began to gather water, and stones for the fire ring.

Mouse returned not much later, with the promised berries and wood. They soon had a fire burning, rations in their bellies, and were soon asleep in their tents.

Morning came quickly, and Mouse led them into the open, waiting maw of the forest. The black-barked trees welcomed them with open branches, and thick undergrowth. The distant cries of wild animals, and roars of distant monsters barely reached their ears, just loud enough to break the silence and keep the ponies that clambered through the plant life on edge.

Occasionally, Mouse would stop them, and wait a minute or so, before continuing on. Everytime he stopped, Storm would ask why in words that were perhaps less gentle then they needed to be, before Mouse would simply reply. “It’s better that we wait now than later.”

Before long, it was now the afternoon, and Storm had nearly reached the end of his patience. “Well? Are we there yet? Is there a destination, or are we going to just wait here to die?”

“Almost,” Mouse said.

“See, this is why we need a plan,” Storm said. “Every second we stand here is a second closer to being eaten by something larger than us.”

“Then why haven’t we been eaten yet?” Mouse asked.

“That’s only by some stroke of luck, Praise Ventus!”

“Perhaps it is luck,” Mouse said, before he pushed on.

“Perhaps?” Storm asked. “It’s so obviously luck that—”

“We’re here,” Mouse said, suddenly, before cutting through a bush, and revealing a single ravine, a rope bridge, and a castle.

“I…” Storm began, his voice catching in his throat. “I didn’t know there was a castle here.”

“It’s more than just a castle,” Mouse said. “Come on.”

Both ponies followed as Mouse lead them across the rope bridge.

“See, Storm?” Golden said. “Mouse knows what he’s doing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I do retract what I said about leading us to our deaths, I suppose,” he muttered.

They crossed the bridge quickly, and before long they stood on the open drawbridge, and knocked upon the massive gate. “I suppose the greatest question is who in their right mind lives here?”

Mouse knocked on the door again. “The most important ponies to this whole plan,” Mouse said, knocking on the door again.

“Who?” Golden asked. “Who’s so important?”

And, as if to answer her question, the door opened, and a midnight blue alicorn stood in the doorway.

Storm blinked, mouth agape as he looked up at the goddess before him. Golden, likewise, could not believe her eyes, and stared at the winged-and-horned figure. Neither of them said a word as Luna yawned, blinking blearly as she walked into the afternoon sun.

Finally, she opened her eyes, and gasped. “Mouse!” Luna cried, energy flooding her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Lady Luna,” Mouse said, with a bow. “We need to speak with you and your sister.”

“What? Right now?”

“The lives of thousands are at risk.”

Luna nodded. “Come inside, all of you.”

Luna lead them up to a room with a single table dominating its center. Not long after that, a fairly annoyed Celestia appeared, earning the shock of the other two ponies, even as Mouse explained what was going on.

“Why are you here, again, Mouse,” the elder sister asked, “and why have you brought more ponies?”

“Mighty Celestia, Lady Luna,” Mouse said with a bow toward each. “We need your aid.”

“And what do you need our aid for?” Celestia asked.

Mouse stood tall as he spoke, looking Celestia straight in the eye, even as she glared down at him from the end of her nose. “There is a danger that threatens Equestria, Your Radiance, which will lead to a greater Doom if left unchecked.”

“Oh, will it now?” Celestia asked. “And how do you know that, mortal?”

“I have seen it.”

“Of course you have,” she replied.

“What did you see, Mouse?” Luna asked.

“I saw the Void. A creature of feathered body, and mismatched limbs, with power unlike any other. He will bring about the end of the world. Equestria must survive, or the world will end.”

Luna shot a glance at Celestia, and the elder system met it, before she turned. “And why are they here?” she asked, motioning to the other two ponies.

“To remind you that I am not the only pony at stake. Hundreds of more lives are at stake, like those of my companions who are honorable in all things.”

“Honorable? If they keep your company, I do doubt it,” Celestia said.

“Tia, that is not the proper way to treat our guests, especially ones that you do not know,” Luna said.

“Very well, I offer my apologies. The point remains, though, that I do not know why you would come to us for that. The world may be in danger, but it is not our place to save anypony. We are leaving the world, the safety of it now rests in the hooves of those we leave behind.”

“Then we are doomed,” Mouse said simply. “Because no pony can face the Void.”

“You are being overdramatic,” Celestia said.

“We will die if you leave,” Mouse said

“And what happens if we stay?” Celestia asked. “We rescue the ponies, we appear before them, and then what? They make us Queens? We are guardians, not leaders. It’s bad enough that they made us gods! They would give us the country, and expect us to rule with perfect grace, but what do we know? To stay is folly. We are leaving, that is final!”

Mouse sighed. “So be it,” he said. “We will die, and the world will follow.”

“Perhaps we are being a little quick to judge,” Luna said. “This is a serious situation that you bring before us, and the consequences of it are far reaching.”

“Luna,” Celestia almost growled.

“We will have to talk about it,” Luna insisted. “In the meantime, I invite you to stay a while. We would gladly enjoy your company for a day or two, before we give you an answer.”

Celestia glared at her sister for a moment, before she finally sighed. “We would gladly have you as guests for dinner tonight, and we would love to house you for the night as well.”

“Thank you, Lady Celestia,” Mouse said. “Your hospitality is welcome.”

“I’m sure it is,” Celestia said, before walking away.

Storm’s head was still spinning.

Mouse knew two goddesses. The thought was a like a charging manticore, large, loud, and demanding the attention of those around it. Sure, one of the goddesses hated him, but that still left one on Mouse’s side. A goddess was on the side of a murderer and a thief, and she even stood beside him before the other goddess!

The image disturbed Storm to no end. A goddess, a perfect being, earth pony, pegasus, and unicorn, all agreed with a traitor and murderer. It made his stomach perform loops, and twisted his mind in ways he didn’t quite understand. How could she?

He walked down one of the many halls of the castle,wrestling with the idea, trying to comprehend everything, before all of sudden he realized he was walking next to someone.

The Goddess Luna walked next to him, watching him as he puzzled.

“Ah! Lady Luna, I...forgive me!” Storm said, suddenly wondering what he needed to do when speaking to a goddess. “I, uh...didn’t know you were there.”

“It’s fine,” the alicorn said. “I don’t mind speaking as Mortals do. It’s relaxing at times.”

“I see,” Storm said, still not comprehending what he should be doing.

“Is something on your mind?” Luna asked him.

“I...n-not at all, my Lady.”

“That’s not what the world around you says,” she said, before Storm followed her gaze. The castle wall slowly unraveled like a bad tapestry, revealing a room where Mouse was reclining, covered in bloody gold. He laughed as mares fed him grapes, and he proudly spun a dagger in the air.

“What do you mean?” Storm asked, still not completely aware that he was dreaming.

“Just look at him,” Luna said. “Look at what you’ve made him into.”

“But he’s a thief and a murderer,” Storm said. "He’s a pony that stands for everything that I stand against. How am I supposed to view him. What should I turn him into?”

“He stands against what you stand for?”

“He does!” Strom growled. “He’s a thief, and a murderer, he has no regard for the law, no regard for pony life, he has nothing redeemable in him at all!”

“Nothing at all? Because he lied, stole and murdered?” Luna asked.

“Nothing!”

“Much like how you lied, stole and murdered when you sat in that no-name Tavern back on the Unicornian frontier border?”

Strom’s indignation died. “I...Uh...that’s, that’s different…I...I only killed a pony that crossed me in a game! I didn’t...besides! That’s not important, I’m beyond that now.”

“Because you changed. Because somepony came to you and helped you. Somepony told you that you could do better, and you changed.”

“I...I did.”

“Mouse also knows that he can do better, he is also trying to change.”

“But...but he…”

“He betrayed you, yes, but that’s because he hadn’t tried to change yet. Give him a chance, like your knight gave to you.”

And that’s when Storm woke up, with the last words of Luna ringing in his head.

“We will not help you,” Celesita said, as they stood at the gate. “It is not our business to aid you, sadly. We have a greater calling to uphold, though we do wish that we could help. As some manner of aid, however, we have given you supplies and gold in order to fund your work,” she said, motioning to the large haversacks that sat beside the party as they were getting ready to leave.

“I am sorry it had to come to this, Mouse,” Luna said, “but we do have a greater obligation. We need to go, it’s our time.”

“I understand,” Mouse said, hefting a sack on his back. “Thank you anyway.”

“You’ll have my blessing, Mouse, if nothing else,” Luna said.

“And that will be the greatest gift,” Mouse told her.

With that, the ponies made their final farewell, and they were soon on their way, leaving the Goddesses behind them. Golden sighed as they crossed the rope bridge and shook her head. “Well, that could have certainly gone better.”

Mouse smiled. “No, it went exactly as planned.”

Chapter 37

When they returned from the trip, Mouse traded Cut for Storm, and together, along with Golden Shield, they left for Canterlot once again. “This part of the plan is going to be fairly simple,” he explained. “We go in, and we convince the Founders to raise an army.”

“That’s it? We’re raising the army?” Cut asked as they walked through the halls of the sanctuary to the shadow gate.

“That’s it,” Mouse replied.

“Well that’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard all day.”

“With the military supporting us, we’ll be able to hold the mages that Baron Jet brings with him,” Mouse said. “If they can hold back the army, then we can face the Baron.”

“And where will we face the Baron?” Golden asked, watching the smaller pony as he walked in the shadows of the hallway.

“Darkwood,” he mumbled as a reply. “He’s heading for the heart.”

“The what?” Cut asked. "Like the heart of the forest?"

“No. Don’t worry about it,” Mouse said. “If all goes well, you won’t have to see it.”

“If?” the thief asked amused. “You mean you don’t know?”

“No, I’m just trying not to be so...creepy.”

Golden smirked. “At least he admits it,” she whispered.

They stepped through the shadowgate, and appeared next to the old brothel that Mouse saw the last time he was here, though this time, it was a bright, sunny day. A living city met them with joy, and Mouse wasted no time stepping out into the street, to let himself be carried by the flow of traffic.

“How is he that squirrly?” Golden asked, before she pushed her way into the street.

“He’s good at it, right?” Cut asked beside her. “He has a lot of natural talent, I admit it. If I had the time to get him properly trained, he’d be invisible.”

Golden shook her head, and followed behind.

After a short time trying to catch up to the assassin-made-oracle, they finally met him again, at the base of the raised mound where the castle sat waiting for them.

“Mouse, wait!” Golden yelled at him from the street. “You’re about to leave us! We’ll do you no good out here.”

Mouse turned and waited, as though expecting this.

“Speaking of doing good,” Cut said, as he lazily flew over the crowd and landed next to Mouse. “Why am I here?”

“What do you mean?” Golden asked, catching up.

“So, I get why you’re here,” Cut said, pointing to the guard. “You can actually request military help. Why am I here?”

“You’ll know,” Mouse replied, before he moved forward, up to the castle drawbridge.

“I mean,” he continued, walking up beside the unicorn, “if you want the Guild to pledge support, you’ll still have to talk with the boss, and he’s not here, so…”

“You’ll know,” Mouse repeated.

The guards stopped them only a moment before Golden managed to get them through the door, and soon after that, they were in line for court.

“We’re going through the long way?” Cut asked. “We could probably just nudge and wink our way in, couldn’t we?”

“That’s not how the founders do business,” Golden said.

“Why not? It’s a perfectly reasonable way to do business,” he said. “The people you trust are the ones with the important information anyway. They get to cut to the front of the line.”

“The point is that everypony is important, Cut,” Golden said.

“I mean, fair, but there’s a difference between asking for land to farm more potatoes, and we need the army to literally save the country.”

“It’s an important, symbolic procedure.”

“And symbols are important, but we are literally trying to save the country.”

A finely-dressed unicorn behind them rolled his eyes, and Golden nudged the pegasus to silence.

Which lasted about a second before Cut spoke up again. “Honestly, every second in line is another second where the safety of Equestria is at risk.”

“Cut,” Mouse whispered. “Now’s not the time.”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, before he went silent and waited in line again.

Some time passed, and finally, they were called into the throne room. Mouse waited only a second at the door, before walking in.

“Lord and Ladies,” announced the court herald. “Presenting Officer Golden Shield, and her escorts.”

Princess Platinum straightened slightly in her throne as she watched the three ponies approach the three founders on the other side of the room. Commander Hurricane looked between them, his hooves together in front of his face, and hiding any expression. On the other side of the Princess, opposite the commander, sat Chancellor Puddinghead, who nodded as she watched the three approached. Along the sides of the throne room, a number of richer ponies gave curious glances at the three newcomers to court.

“Officer Golden,” Hurricane greeted. “What brings you here? I thought you were on a special mission.”

Mouse removed his hood. “She still works it faithfully, Commander. May we have the room, Princess?”

Platinum nodded, and motioned to a handful of guards to empty the room. They obeyed immediately, pushing the rich ponies out. The moment they were out, Princess Platinum spoke again. “Mouse, what brings you here? Have you found the Horn of the Mystic Oath?”

“No, Princess, we have not.”

“Then why are you here?” Hurricane asked. “You were given a mission, you need to complete it.”

“We have an update of vital importance, Commander,” Mouse said. “You need to know this.”

“What do we need to know, Mouse?” the Princess asked.

“The Horn wishes to alter history itself in order to remake Equestria in his image. In three weeks time, he will lead an army to the Darkwood forest, in search for a place of power that will let him wield a terrible power.”

“The power to alter history?” The Chancellor asked. “How?”

“Through very powerful magic,” Mouse said. “He has an artifact, and by that artifact, I discovered this plan.”

“What can we do to stop this?” Platinum asked.

“I need your aid, Princess. If you bring an army to the Darkwood in three weeks time, then we can stop him.”

“I see,” the Princess said. “Hurricane, can we do this?”

Hurricane shook his head. “How many soldiers would we need? What is the strength of the enemy force?”

“They are three thousand ponies, and my estimate is that it would take five thousand ponies strong to ensure victory.”

“Five thousand? You want a whole Legion to march into a field on nothing more than your word?”

“Hurricane,” The Princess began.

“No, Princess,” he said, with a growl. “I understand that Clover trusted him, and so by extension, you do, but this stallion has done very little to earn that.”

“Trust, perhaps not, but what has he done to earn our mistrust?” the Princess asked.

“What indeed?” Hurricane muttered. “He left. He disappeared off the map, never to be heard from again, and it was by a stroke of luck that we found him again at all. You admitted it yourself, you did not know this was the same pony the Clover fawned over until the day he appeared in the castle. How do we know he won’t just leave us again?”

“Perhaps a more measured approach should be taken,” the Chancellor said. “Perhaps we send only a part of the army.”

“A part of the army does no one any good, Chancellor,” the Commander growled. “Either we send everyone, and the city is left defenseless, we send no one, and ignore what Clover’s Chosen One has to say, or, heaven forbid, if we do split up the Legion, we may find that neither side can do the job.”

“Well I say we vote on it,” the Chancellor said.

“Oh, and here we go about the votes again!” he cried. “Militaries do not run on votes. You need discipline, duty, and quick, decisive orders!”

“A vote mean everyone is heard!”

“Voting is slow! With one leader, and one voice, the entire country can come to bear!” The Commander growled. “And I refuse to bring my voice to bear for someone I cannot trust.”

“Commander,” The Princess said. “I would trust Mouse with my life. That should count for something.”

“You are still grieving for a friend. You’re not thinking correctly.”

“Commander,” Mouse said. “I know my path has been fraught with flights of fancy and I have not been the model citizen at that, but I would not betray Equestria. We need the Legion at the Darkwood forest in three weeks time or Equestria will fall.”

“I’m sure,” Hurricane growled, sarcastically.

Cut sighed. “Commander,” he said, stepping forward. “I can vouch for him.”

Hurricane glanced over at the pegasus that just spoke up. “And who are you to vouch for him?”

Cut removed his hood with a sigh, and snapped to attention. “Decanus Cutting Wind, reporting for duty, Commander.”

Hurricane blinked. “Cut? But, is that you?”

“Yes, sir. It is.”

Golden looked between the two, now very much lost.

“Commander,” the Princess said. “It seems you have us at a disadvantage. Who might this be?”

Hurricane stood from his throne. “Cut...where...where did you go? I know I let the Hundred go, but I never expected you to simply disappear.”

Golden blinked, before the truth suddenly snapped into her mind. Cut...cut wasn’t just a thief. Cut was a veteran. One of Hurricane’s Hundred. He wasn’t just a soldier, he was one of the founding members of the Equestrian Military. He had the sway, he had the pull.

He was exactly the pony Mouse needed to convince the Commander.

“I grew tired of Military life sir,” Cut said with a smirk. “Tired of spilling blood, mostly. Besides, getting a job is surprisingly difficult around here, so I didn’t have many other options.”

There was a long second of silence in the throne room, before the Commander sighed, and straightened himself. “You vouch for this pony, Decanus?”

“I do, sir. Mouse is a good pony. He helped me out when I needed him, and I’ve never known him to fail a job.”

Hurricane nodded. “I see,” he said. The Commander breathed a moment, staring down at the pegasus, until he turned to the Princess. “Well, if nothing else, your pony knows who’s who.”

Platinum smiled.

“Very well. I shall have the Legion prepare to move out. Where do they need to be posted?”

“The East side of the Darkwood Forest,” Mouse replied. “Three weeks time.”

“Three weeks time...” The Commander repeated.

“Thank you,” Mouse said simply, before

With the boon they requested secured, they bowed and backed out of the throne room, even as a number of rich ponies flooded back into the room. The three ponies didn’t say anything between them as they left the throne room, and stayed silent all the way to the castle courtyard.

That’s when Golden couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re one of Hurricane’s Hundred?”

“Hey, keep that down, I have a reputation to uphold,” Cut whispered back.

“What is one of Hurricane’s hundred doing running a ring of thieves?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” Cut whispered. “Rumors that the guy who hired the thieves is an Earthonian noble trying to destabilize the country.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Golden asked.

“I didn’t leave Pegasopolis for some Earthonian jackass to ruin my new home. So I played the part of a thief that was too good at his job.”

“What?”

“I stole from rich targets,” Cut Whispered, “the ones that could afford to get robbed from. I trained every pony to think that way, and next thing you know, us thieves are putting more money into Equestria then we’re taking out. Instead of being the terror of the poor that keeps ponies away, we’re breathing gold into it.”

“But...that’s…” Golden said.

“That’s doing what the Commander ordered. Help Equestria any way they could,” Mouse said.

“Yeah, and you’re welcome, Mouse. Nearly ruined ten years of undercover work with that,” Cut muttered.

“I hope that it’s not lost,” Mouse said. “Though I do know there are spies in the court.”

Cut sighed. “I just sacrificed ten years worth of work, didn’t I?”

Mouse didn’t answer.

“You’re one of Hurricane’s Hundred…” Golden whispered to herself.

“We need to get back to the sanctuary,” Mouse said. “We need to move quickly, we only one chance at our next meeting.”

“One of Hurricane’s Hundred…”

“Alright, Maple, you’re with us next,” Mouse said as they walked back through the sanctuary.

“What?” Maple said, standing suddenly. “What’s going on?”

“You, me, and Golden. New Job.”

“Alright, I guess…” he said. “What are we doing?”

“Well, considering he just ruined ten years of my work, who knows?”

Mouse still didn’t respond to that.

“He...um...what?”

Wraith grunted, holding a tray full of fresh bread. “I’m surprised you didn’t jump on that one, Storm.”

Storm shrugged. “Guess I’m trying to figure my approach,” he said. “Too many to work with right now.”

“This is the ultimate mission for the safety of Equestria,” Mouse said, “Sacrifices will be made by everyone. Including me.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me be mad for a bit, I’ll cool down,” Cut muttered, before he grabbed a roll of bread off the tray.

“Are you sure I can’t kill him?” Wraith said. “It’d be easy!”

“Not yet, we’ll talk about it,” he said.

“Sounds good!”

“Maple,” Mouse said. “This is important, you’ll need to have a few runes ready, and be ready to talk magic, alright?”

“O-ok? When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Guys!” Golden said. “Cut is one of Hurricane’s Hundred!”

Chapter 38

As rain poured down, Golden wondered how long it would take for her to sink into the mud. It beat against her armor with a staccato ping! Mouse had led them to Manehatten, specifically approaching the north bank of the river, on the other side of the gate. Unfortunately, the storm threatened to swallow them whole if they weren’t careful.

More than once, Mouse had to warn them to move slowly, as he swore that ponies swearing to the Horn were nearby. Keeping that in mind, they gave the city a wide berth, though crossing the swollen river did present a few difficulties until Maple used one of his runes to cut a path through.

Still, this left them cold, wet, and walking trudging through mud as the continued around the city.

“Why are we here again?” Maple asked. “I mean, the city is there, so anypony we’d be looking for should also be there, right?”

“No, we’re looking for someone else,” Mouse said.

“Who?” Maple asked over the roar of the storm, which began to howl, as though insulted by the presence of these ponies.

“You’ll know him when you see him,” Mouse responded.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Golden responded. “You’ll get used to that.”

“Well, if he’s here, then where is he?” Maple asked. “You told me he’s not a Runecaster, so he has no reason to be out here, not that there’s a lot out here anyway.”

“No, he’s here. We just need to find him,” Mouse said.

“Who?” Maple asked.

Golden smiled, and gave the young stallion a push. “You’ll find out. Don’t worry.”

Thunder crashed above them, rolling over the plane, drowning out the sound of the rain for a moment before it returned in full. The mud pulled at them, the river roared, and the rain tried to beat them down as it sapped their strength.

“We’re almost there,” Mouse shouted, as the storm threatened to drown him out. “We’re almost there!”

Lightning flashed over as the storm turned harder, pouring down with rain as a nearby tree exploded from the strike, lighting on fire where it stood.

“Over here!” Mouse yelled, as he led them further north, across the large, nearly empty field. “Here! It’s here!” Another lightning flash revealed a doorway, standing still, yet unsupported. “This way, get inside!” Mouse yelled again, opening the door to reveal a soft, warm light.

Quickly the others rushed inside, where a nice, dry, and warm hallway met them. The hallway seemed paved with large, square tiles. Each tile appeared perfectly cut, and lay perfectly flat. The walls stood perfectly straight, and the beams that supported it even grew without knots or flaws. The bays, covered in a beautiful, if simple, wallpaper, almost seemed to watch them enter, as light warmed the room from somewhere that the gathered ponies could not see.

“Where are we?” Maple asked, as he closed the door.

“A wizard’s home,” Mouse said simply, before he took off his cloak. “Take your cloak off, and be polite. He’s old, crotchety, but if we play our cards right, he’ll help us.”

Golden had already taken her helmet off by the time Mouse finished giving his order. Taking only a moment to adjust her wet mane, which clung to her forehead despite her efforts, she followed after the thief-turned-oracle, leaving Maple to take the rear.

“Well, if we’re trying to be polite, shouldn’t we introduce ourselves?”

“He already knows we’re here, which is why we aren’t sneaking about like thieves,” Mouse said.

“That’s...comforting…” Maple said, before Golden sent a glance his way, and stopped to let him catch up.

“Look, I know what it feels like,” she said as she joined him. “I know it feels like we’re walking blind into a fight we know nothing about, but this is the third time Mouse has done this, and so far, he’s gotten me out safe every time. I trust him to get us through this one.”

“You do?”

“Well, I mean, why not?” Golden replied. “He’s done his job, many times, and led us to safety each time. He’s watching out for us.”

“Yes, but...but we don’t know if he’s going to…” he faltered, the words just on the tip of his tongue.

“He does,” Golden replied, “and so far, that’s been good enough.”

The sound of a roaring fire grew louder as they walked down the hall, along with the snapping pops of firewood. It sounded like a nice, comfortable hearth fire that would dry out her coat, and warm her of the storms chill. She smiled at the thought, and wondered if they were about to meet the old wizard in a large, overstuffed chair by the fire. It made the old pony appear gentle in her mind’s eye, a kindly old stallion caught up in his books, yet, as they turned the corner, they were not met with a kindly old wizard and his fireplace, but rather a being of living flame.

Golden reached for her sword, and Maple began to raise his Runestones, but Mouse simply bowed before the beast. “Greetings, my name is Mouse, and these are my companions, Officer Golden Shield, and Runecaster Maple Leaf. We would like to speak with the master of the house over some incredibly vital information.”

The flaming figure, to its credit, appeared just as shocked as Golden and Maple. It’s clawed hand slowly relaxed, and the sound of the roaring fire quieted as it glanced between the three ponies.

And then it stared at them.

They looked at each other for a long moment, letting the silence drag on as they tried to figure out what to do with each other, before the flaming figure held out a clawed hand up, pointing further inside the building. The meaning was clear, even more so when Mouse nodded and began to walk forward, that they were to follow.

The creature led them through the maze of corridors, past rooms filled with laboratories, libraries, and large empty rooms, whose purpose Golden could not quite grasp. They moved forward, carefully, before walking up a flight of stairs, and into a small, round room. As Golden stepped inside, a number of things fought for her attention, the first being the mess. The whole room was filled with disheveled furniture, books splayed out across the floor, and candles that were nearly burned down to stubs.

The second most notable thing about the room was the window that opened up to a moonlit sky, overlooking a mountain vista as light, wispy clouds drifted by. This struck Golden as notable simply because that’s not what the sky looked like outside right now.

Finally, the third most notable thing was the unicorn in a blue, star-covered cape with bells sewn into the hem.

“Are they gone?” he asked.

The elemental made the sound of a campfire, before Mouse spoke up. “No, sir, we haven’t left. We have more important things to discuss.”

The wizard in the robe turned, and glared at Mouse. “Do you now?”

“That’s why your summon brought us here.”

“About what?”

“The nature of magic and politics,” Mouse responded.

The wizard raised an eyebrow. “I detest politics.”

“All the more reason to talk about them, unless you want them to shape what magic does without your say.”

The wizard glared again, before turning to the summon. “You’re dismissed.”

The fiery form nodded, before it seemed to sputter out of existence.

The wizard then quickly cast another spell, and a set of chairs and a table appeared on the side of the room. “Have a seat, please,” he offered.

Mouse nodded, and graciously accepted the offer, and was soon followed by the others as the wizard took a seat across from them.

“I assume you know who I am?” the wizard asked. “There’s hardly any other reason you would be here.”

Mouse nodded. “You are Starswirl, a powerful, yet mostly unknown wizard back in Unicornia.”

Starswirl nodded. “Then I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I am Mouse, a pony in the Service of the Founders,” he said, before holding out a hoof to Golden. “This is officer Golden Shield, also working with the Founders, and finally, this young stallion is Maple Leaf, a Runecaster.”

Starswirl’s ears perked at that. “A Runecaster?” he asked, undisguised fascination filling his voice. “The same runecasting that requires the life-force of nearby plants, animals, or ponies to power spells?”

Mouse turned to Maple.

The earth pony blinked, before nodding, as though suddenly realizing they wanted him to answer. “Y-yes, sir. That’s what I do.”

“And yet you don’t seem to have suffered any negative effects,” Starswirl noted.

“No, sir. I feed my stones plants rather regularly. Flowers, wild bushes and weeds, mostly.”

“Fascinating.”

“And now for the less than fascinating part, I’m afraid,” Mouse interjected. “From what I understand, you were having some trouble in Unicornia, is that correct?”

The wizard sat straighter. “My larger concern is that there are few ponies willing to fund my research, yes. Mostly because the Unicornian nobility is more concerned with inane studies such as changing the color of mana, and commissioning two-bit hacks for thousands of gold pieces. So yes, I suppose you can say have been having some trouble.”

“Then I don’t need to tell you the opportunity Equestria has opened for you,” Mouse said simply.

“Would I be here, if it didn’t?” Starswirl asked. “More importantly, why are you asking me about the opportunities Equestria presents?”

“Well, it should speak for itself that Equestria is an ideal place to study magic. The nobles here are new money, and they have more practical needs for magic. You can offer those, and it allows you to dig deeper into your research. Everypony wins, right?”

“That is the case, but that doesn’t answer my question,” Starswirl noted.

“As it so happens, however, this arrangement is now severely at risk.”

“What makes you say that?”

Mouse leaned forward slightly. “As it so happens, a number of ponies are trying to take over Equestria as a vassal state for Unicornia.”

Starswirl blinked at the news. “Are you certain?”

“Very certain, sadly.”

“Hm.”

“That brings us to why we’re here, Mr. Starswirl,” Mouse said. “We want your help in making sure that this doesn’t happen.”

“You wish to turn me to war,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“We wish that you continue your work,” Mouse replied, “and the best way to do that is in Equestria.”

“I could simply move,” Starswirl said. “There are other countries that I can work in.”

“You could, but we both know that neither of them will offer the same opportunities as Equestria.”

“Nonsense,” Starswirl replied, “I’ll be able to study magic wherever I go. It is innate in unicorns, after all.”

Mouse raised a hoof toward Maple. “All magic?”

Starswirl glanced over at the young stallion.

“The fact of the matter is, quite simply, that Equestria offers you chances unlike any you’ve had before. It’s rich in crystal, strange, magical creatures, and other kinds of magic that have yet to truly be discovered. Just imagine the breakthroughs you could make here.”

The wizard didn’t answer.

“Mr. Starswirl, we don’t need an answer, or promise of help yet. You have a little less than three weeks to decide. You just need to be at the Darkwood forest when the enemy appears. There should be a legion from Canterlot arriving around that time, so you can walk with them if you lose your way. All we ask is that you think about it.”

Starswirl nodded. “I’ll think about it, on one condition.”

“What?”

Starswirl smirked. “I want to work with the colt here, learn some Runecasting myself.”

Golden frowned the second she heard that. He was trying to weasel out of it, to study the one thing he can’t have anywhere else. Mouse has to know that, right? He knows this old pony’s just trying to get his way.

“Of course you can,” Mouse said.

Golden tuned to him.

“Really?” Starswirl asked, his tone sounding superior and smug. “You’re just going to give me what I want?”

“I’m giving it to you, because you are my friend,” Mouse replied. “That’s what Equestria’s about.”

Starswirl cocked his head, now more confused that the pony he was negotiating with knew exactly what he was doing, and let him get away with it. “Very well, thank you, I suppose.”

“I would only ask that you would continue to extend your hospitality that we might wait out this storm.”

Starswirl sighed. “I suppose it’s the least I can do for a friend.”

Starswirl eyed the Runestone, carefully touching it as though it might explode at any given moment. Or at least, that it might go off and begin sucking the life out of him. So far, it had appeared fairly innocuous, a simple carving in a simple stone, until he began measuring the magic that radiated off of it.

The stone appeared as a small star beneath his gem of magic detection, shining so bright it almost blinded him. The power in it was simply undeniable, and what's worse, it was definitely stronger than most spells he had seen many a unicorn cast. The shame in knowing that this young colt could out-cast many wizards he knew would be devastating back home.

Strangely, it’s what made the runestones all the more fascinating. At the cost of the life energy around them, even a novice of the craft could radically increase the power output of even the simplest spell. Starswirl thought that it might even be a simple price to pay for a such an increase, if not for the horror stories he heard of Earth Pony witches bringing famine, and sucking the life out of unsuspecting victims.

“And these runes are safe?” Starswirl asked.

“Until I activate it,” Maple replied. “Once I do then it will have to recharge.”

“And that’s when it takes the life out of the world around it?”

“Yes, I can slow it down a little, but if I make the spell too powerful, then there isn’t much I can do about it.”

“Fascinating,” Starswirl said. “I assume this means that most of the stories about witches then are just tales of those who let their spells become too strong?”

Maple nodded. “I’d have to assume so, I’ve never met them, but it’s what would happen if they tried.”

Starswirl laughed. “Well, at least it’s nice to know the unicorn’s aren’t alone.”

“What do you mean?” Maple asked.

“Oh, there are hundreds of tales of wizards that try to shrug off their mortal limitations and play around with the natural order, and so on,” Starswirl explained. “Honestly, there are enough tales and warnings about becoming an evil wizard you could fill a library wing with them.”

“Why?” Maple asked.

“Oh, for the same reason, Young Maple,” the older wizard said. “Magic is inherently powerful, and as a result, dangerous to those who don’t understand what surrounds them.”

“Life?” Maple asked.

“Magic, yes,” Starswirl answered. “Life is magic. Everything that happens around is magic. A lie is the simplest Illusion magic, a craftspony is a Transmuter, a campfire is the basis of all Destruction, a growing flower is practicing the same Creation magic as the greatest healer, and he who summons stories from the mind is a Conjurer in their own right. Life is magic, and yes, it is powerful, but that’s what makes magic special.”

“That’s only five schools,” Maple said.

“Hm?”

“Grandpa said that there were six schools of magic.”

Starswirl blinked. “Well...Your grandfather was a well educated pony, then, I must say,” he said before turning back to face the young Earth pony. “The sixth school is Friendship, and though I do think that life is magic, I’m still unsure if Friendship is in fact a school on its own, or a mix of the other schools.”

“So is it not a school?”

“It’s up for debate,” the wizard admitted. “Of course, because magic is so strongly controlled in Unicornia, most ponies aren’t even aware that there are schools of magic, much less that there’s an argument of the validity of one of them.”

“Well, that’s a reason to keep helping Equestria, isn’t it?” Maple asked.

“Yes, I suppose it is, isn’t it?” he muttered, before turning back to the Runestone. “You know, at its core this is basically an advanced form of enchanting. Crystal items use a very similar method of casting spells, they just take much longer to recharge on their own.”

“Do you think maybe that crystals can make runestones safer?” Maple asked.

“Perhaps, I think it’s more likely that rune carving can make crystal enchanting more effective,” he said, before he turned to face Maple again. “Thank you, Maple. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Well, I guess that was the point, wasn’t it?”

Starswirl nodded. “I suppose it was. Why don’t we go to bed. I think it’s late enough.”

“Well, Mr. Mouse,” Starswirl said. “You have somehow managed to convince me to help.”

They stood outside of the ornate, seemingly free standing door sometime around noon. The storm from last night had completely passed them by, leaving only the drying mud as the only sign that it passed through the night before. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved,” Mouse said.

“Yes, well, if we’re going to make Equestria a place for all kinds of magic to be studied and accepted, then one of the first steps would be to ensure that the country still stands by the end of the month.”

Mouse nodded and smiled. “To say the least.”

“Now, where did you need me to go?”

“The Darkwood Forest, two weeks, and three days, give or take any time you would need to set up.”

Starswirl nodded. “Very well, I suppose that gives me enough time to prepare myself. Maybe shave.”

Mouse shrugged. “I’m not sure you should. You look rather distinguished with a beard.”

“Now, now, Mr. Mouse, flattery is not the way to end this meeting.”

“Of course,” Mouse responded. “Thank you, though. I know this is no small thing to ask of you, but Equestria will not survive without your help.”

“I gathered as much,” the wizard said, before sighing. “Will I see you at the battle?”

“Perhaps,” Mouse said. “My team and I will have a greater task to complete that day, but it’s possible.”

“Well then, I hope I see you there alive.”

Mouse nodded. “I wish the same,” he said, before he bowed and backed away.

Starswirl nodded, and did the same, stepping back into his home, all the while rubbing the formidable beard on his chin.

“Alright,” Mouse said, once the wizard had stepped inside. “We’re doing a good job. After this, we need to convince one more group of ponies, before we go to war.”

“What do you mean?” Golden asked,

“We’re going to start on some Horn stings soon,” Mouse replied. “We’ll be hitting some cult hideouts, and tearing them to pieces.”

“Great, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” she said.

“Um, Mr. Mouse?” Maple said, bringing attention back to him.

“Yes?”

“I...if I didn’t cove, then Starswirl wouldn’t have come, would he?”

“I don’t know,” Mouse admitted. “What I do know is that, because you came, he’ll help protect Equestria.”

“Hm…” he muttered.

“You’ve helped him, Maple,” Mouse said, pausing a moment to look back at the young stallion.

The young Runecaster looked up, surprised by the sudden statement.

“You’ve helped him more than you could possibly know.”

Chapter 39

After meeting with the wizard, Mouse became even more secretive. He began leaving in the middle of the night, always by himself, before returning within the hour. One night, Golden cornered the little unicorn and asked him just what exactly he was up to.

“Small changes,” he responded.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice low and quiet as the others slept somewhere in the sanctuary.

“Asking a guard for help here, keeping a lamp lit there, small things. Just the smallest things,” he explained, openly.

“Why?”

“To get everything ready,” he said simply.

“Ready for what?” she asked.

Mouse simply smiled at that, before he led her back to her room, and told her to go back to bed. “You need your sleep, Goldie. You’ll need your strength.”

“No, I’m not letting you leave me like this. I’ve played along with this all-knowing stuff long enough, I’ve followed you, and I’ll keep following you, but I’m not letting you disappear into the night without talking to anyone.”

Mouse shook his head. “I’ll be fine, Goldie. Just take care of yourself,” he said, gently pushing her into her room.

“No, Mouse,” she said, turning, but Mouse was already gone, fading into the shadows of the sanctuary, and slipping away.

“Mouse!” she called after him. “Come back here, we’re not done!”

The unicorn didn’t answer.

“Sarding thief,” she muttered, before retreating back to her room.

“Can’t trust him at all can you?” A voice said, and Golden nearly jumped out of her skin, before her eyes fell on Wraith, who hung in the rafters of her room.

“Well, at least he doesn’t hide on my ceiling.,” Golden muttered darkly.

“Hey, you know where I stand,” the other unicorn said. “I’m a killer. I want ponies killed, but Ghost…”

“Mouse,” Golden corrected.

“Only if you’re talking about a dead pony,” Wraith said. “He killed that soft part of himself, and he became a true killer. Now, he claims he killed Ghost too. So what’s left, I wonder? Is he just an empty husk of a pony leading us along, or is he a pony desperately trying to hold on to a past that doesn’t exist anymore?”

Golden sighed. “Are you done? I need to go to bed.”

“He’s a completely different pony than before,’ Wraith hissed. “He used to be one of us, but then he turned on his murderers in arms, and left us for dead.”

Golden paused for a second. “Don’t you mean brothers in arms?”

“We knew what we were,” Wraith said. “We were killers, but we were a team, and he turned on us. I don’t know what kind of pony you knew, but he’s dead. All that’s left is that thing dressed in his skin.”

Golden shook her head. “Goodnight, Wraith.”

“I need you two,” Mouse said.

Golden wasn’t quite sure why. “So...to recap, you know of a high-ranking Horn member, and in order to get the Horn to meet, which we need for some reason, we need to assassinate this pony.”

“Yes,” Mouse said. “That’s correct.”

“Okay, well I understand why you’d want her to come along for that,” Golden said, pointing at Wraith, “but why me?”

“I can’t tell you why exactly,” Mouse said, “but you will be vital for the whole operation.”

“Okay, sure,” she muttered, “but you’re still bringing me along to murder somepony.”

Wraith snickered. “A, what’s the matter?” she asked. “Lost your nerve? You killed plenty of ponies before.”

“Wraith is right, here, Golden,” Mouse said. “Nothing’s changed, this is still the same enemy trying to destroy Equestria the same way it always had. The only thing that’s changing is how we meet them.”

“I understand that,” Golden said. “But I also happen to be wearing heavy, and somewhat loud armor. I’m going to be a liability, and you know that, right?”

“I do,” Mouse said. “At the same time, you will be our in. The assassination will be at a party, and you are going to get us into that party as a representative of the Founders.”

“Okay...that makes it a little better, I guess?”

“The important thing is that I and Wraith will deal with the pony that needs to die. Once he’s done we can all move forward.”

“This is crazy, you know that right?” she asked. “I’m not cut out for this.”

“All you need to do is be the face that everyone looks at. Wraith and I will take care of the rest,” Ghost said.

“Look, I get that, but I don’t think you understand how terribly suited I am for this kind of job.”

“Aw,” Cut said from the loft he built above the main hall. “It sounds like our little guard friend’s too afraid to her get her hooves dirty.”

“No, I’m fine with that, but I am not good at parties, like, at all.”

“Please,” Cut said, hanging from his hammock. “It’s a party. It’s not a war zone.”

“I’d prefer a warzone,” she said. “They’re easier to navigate.”

Cut laughed.

“You will do well, Goldie, I promise,” Mouse said.

Golden sighed. “Fine. Damn you and this damned foresight that you have, Mouse. I’ll go with you, though.”

Mouse nodded, and gave a faint smile. “I know, I know it’s taxing, but I promise, this will all make sense soon. We only have two and a half weeks left, after all.”

Golden Shield stepped into the manor house overlooking the harbor outside of the west side of Vanhoover. The manor house was owned by Lord Shining Silver, one of the Unicornian nobles that decided they would follow Princess Platinum rather than stay with the soon-to-be-fighting sisters.

Or so he said.

According to Mouse, he was actually a Golden revolutionary, and actually one of the leading members of the Horn of the Mystic Oath. Mouse and Wraith walked beside her, flanking her on both sides as though they were officers or bureaucrats of some kind.

Honestly, Goolden wasn’t sure what to call them beyond their retainers, though she was surprised by how well they seemed to disappear into the background noise. No one seemed to notice them as pony after pony greeted her, thanking her for her service to the new-founded country, while at the same time showering her and the Founders for their attention.

Golden was sick of it by the second pony.

Despite that, the party was a marvelous affair, with a ballroom decorated with linen drapes, floors of marble and black granite. The tables were of exotic mahogany, shined to a mirror polish, and the sparkling cider was served in clear crystal. Not a speck was out of place as the manor servants took care of every need.

The whole place screamed of prim, proper, stiff, and lifeless, and that’s why Golden truly hated it. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a celebration of some sort, there was not a single laugh in the building that didn’t sound forced. The unicorns moved carefully, so as not to wrinkle their precious petticoats, and the dancing, oh, by Peme the dancing! If the ponies were physically stiff in their over-starched shirts, then their dancing could only be described as outright wooden. As far as her eye can see, not a sprout of genuine life existed within the walls of the ballroom.

“I’d much rather be fighting for my life,” Golden whispered.

“You can do this,” Mouse whispered back. “Just a little longer.”

“A little longer, he says,” muttering to herself. “You know, I’d feel a lot better if they didn’t take my sword at the door.”

“You’re a representative, not a soldier,” Wraith whispered back. “Representatives don’t walk around with swords ready.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“I don’t like hiding in the corner,” Wraith said. “I want my prey to fear me before I send them screaming to the void, yet here we are.”

Golden gave the mare a look. “And here I was, wondering why we hadn’t gotten to know each other better.”

“Easy, we’re getting curious looks,” Mouse warned. “We can’t blow our cover now.”

Golden went quiet before smiling and greeting another pony offering fake platitudes. “Oh, of course, of course, my pleasure.”

Another moment or two passed, with the three ponies standing on guard, waiting for something to happen, before Mouse suddenly whispered. “It’s almost time. Our opportunity is coming up.”

“What is?” Wraith whispered back, before Golden caught sight of it.

Shining Shield stood to the side, where a pony in a purple cloak whispered into his ear. Shining nodded, before he quickly excused himself, and began to head toward the back room.

“Golden, now’s your true time to shine,” Mouse whispered. “I need you to make a scene.”

She nodded, but smiled despite herself. “Finally, something I’ll enjoy doing.” the guard stepped forward, looking about for any sign of anypony acting suspicious before she found a decent quarry.

A smaller unicorn with slicked-back hair hovered a crystal glass by his lips, staring hungrily at a young mare just across the way. He’d make an excellent target.

Golden walked right up to him, staying in his blindspot for as long as she could before leaping at him. “Now I’ve got you!”

Both ponies slammed into a table, smashing it to pieces and earning every single eye in the ballroom as she pinned him to the ground.

“What is going on?” the unicorn yelled, still too shocked from the sudden blow to be angry.

“Sly Plan! You are under arrest for impersonating a noble!” Golden yelled.

Shocked gasp rippled through the crowd, many, as far as Golden could see, showing sincere expressions since first entering the room.

Yes, this made it so much better. “You’re coming with me, Sly!”

“Who? What?” The unicorn gasped. “I am no such Sly! I am Lord Mica Slate! I am no imposter!”

“Right, that’s what they all say!” Golden said.

She could just knock the pony out and drag him out of the ballroom, but she needed to make a scene, and that meant to be as loud and obnoxious for as long as possible. She chanced a look back at her compatriots, but they were already gone. She risked a smile, before she tacked the unicorn to the ground again. “I know that’s you, Sly! Don’t try to deny it!”

Wraith performed as her namesake, and nearly glided down the hall. A spell clung to the tip of her horn, poised for action, and ready to be released at a moment’s notice. Beside her, Mouse moved just as silently, his twin crescent knives in his magical grip.

He had already told her what to expect. It’d be quiet to begin with, but they’re cover would be blown sooner rather than later. Rushing down the halls as fast as they dared, they quickly covered ground, before coming upon a large, oaken door.

Wraith pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sign of life, and smiled when she heard the sound of muffled speaking.

She glanced to Mouse, and he nodded, holding his blades higher.

She nodded as well, and smiled.

Her spell exploded, knocking the door from its iron hinges, and sending it slamming through at least two attendants. Screams, blood, and splinters filled the air in the trail that the door left behind it, but the dust settled quickly. Shining Silver barely had time to recover before the two assassins burst into the room, but just managed to struggle to his hooves, before Mouse ripped into the room. His blades tore through ponies left and right, leaving only fresh corpses on the floor, throats slit.

A bodyguard lept to the lord’s defense, firing his own spell at the exposed Mouse. A bolt of flame shot forward, screeching through the air, only to disappear as one of Mouse daggers cut the air around him, devouring the magic completely.

Any physical retort was answered by a spell Wraith, one that came barreling down toward the hapless defender, and immolated him to ash. She turned and brought her horn down upon Shining, who only barely managed to deflect the blow to the side, leaving a smoking crater where an empty set of armor once stood.

“We’re-we’re under attack!” he yelled, hoping someone other than the two assassins would hear him.

Mouse lept at him, bringing his knives around in a terrible arc, Shining ducked, and ran screaming down the hall, before Mouse and Wraith paused only a second to catch their breath. Their mission was simple, cause as much terror and damage as possible before ending the lord’s life.

“Now?” Wraith asked.

Mouse nodded. “Let’s go.”

With only those two words, the assassins ran down the halls, killing anything and everything they came across. Servants, soldiers, even a wandering mastiff were all killed in their rampage. They were cruel, and they were excessive, they needed to be, because they needed to send a message.

“Stop them!” Shining yelled, though not many guards of his personal army still survived.

A handful of guards answered the call, only for half of them to be cut down by a burning green spell that ate at their flesh. They screamed, recoiling and writhing under magic that most considered a war crime.

And then Mouse came to end their suffering.

“Stop them! Stop them!” he yelled, slamming a door behind him.

Another blast from Wraith sent ponies flying, breaking bones as they slammed into furniture. Mouse cut another down, all the while, glaring ahead, his eyes betraying no emotion. For a moment, just a moment, Wraith saw Ghost once more.

In a moment, they cleared the hallway, leaving only the bodies and warm blood. “We can take a second here,” Mouse said. “He locked himself in an office, he can’t escape that way.”

“We have him cornered then?” Wraith asked.

“Completely.”

“Perfect,” she said with a smirk. “So do we light the room on fire and let him burn?”

Mouse shook his head. “This isn’t about being effective. This is about fear.”

Wraith smirked. “So am I breaking in, or you?”

Mouse simply smiled, before he readied his tools, and his lock picking spell. “He has a few traps on it, I’ll take care of it.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, before she turned around to face the empty hallway. “So, is there a reason you kept your little guard friend in the dark?” Wraith asked.

“What do you mean?” Mouse asked as he worked on the tumblers.

“You didn’t hide the plan from me,” she said. “You told me almost everything. Why tell me, and not your precious guard ally?”

Mouse didn’t even spare her a glance. “Because knowing everything is dangerous. It can cause ponies to act in certain ways. Dangerous, unpredictable, or violent ways.”

The door clicked open, and Wraith smiled and turned, ready to finish her grim work.

Inside, the office of the unicorn was rather well kept, though completely, and unfortunately for him without windows. The bookcases were filled with tomes of various ages, a desk, normally prim, lay up on its side, and hiding behind it stood Lord Shining Silver, back to a wall with a blade in his magical grip. “Stay back, you beasts!”

Wraith’s smile slowly faded.

The blade that the lord was simple, unadorned, and otherwise unremarkable. Long, cold steel with no beauty to it. The blade was a killer’s weapon. One of such pragmatism, and brutality that only one could be so familiar.

That was one of Demon’s swords.

Mouse stood, and sighed, even as Wraith stepped into the room. “Shining Silver led the cultists that gathered the bodies the night you threw me out of the sanctuary. He went there to ensure that all of the assassins were dead. If Oracle had told him of your existence as well, Shining Silver would have hunted us both down. But he is the one who collected and left the bodies to rot.”

Wraith didn’t hear anything else, even if Mouse told her.

Instead, she simply absorbed that knowledge, and reacted, unpredictably, and violently.

Chapter 40

Time was growing short.

They were days away from the attack, and every second mattered. Mouse had the new team of ponies rushing back and forth between the shadowgates, running courses between them as he prepared for this next mission. Golden and the others worked quietly, having learned that Mouse will tell them what they need to do eventually.

As the ponies sat down to dinner, now three days away from the predicted assault, their own prediction proved correct.

“We’ve done well,” Mouse said. “Whether we’ve heard the reports or not, we’ve scared the Horn. Sudden assassination attempts, along with my efforts in disrupting their supply lines means they think a ver powerful orginization is after them. Some of them think it’s the Founders themselves.”

“So we talked ourselves up?” Cut asked.

“And the Horn bit,” Mouse said with a nod. “They think we’re a very powerful enemy, that knows far too much than we should.”

Wraith grinned as she passed out some rolls. “Sounds like we’re finally getting the recognition we deserve.”

“But we still need to perform the master stroke. At this time, this cult is wary, but they aren’t coming for us yet. We need to draw them out.”

“To the Darkwood Forest?” Golden asked tentatively.

Mouse nodded. “To the Darkwood Forest. Everything we have done so far is dependent on this mission.”

“You’ve said that about every mission,” Storm said.

“Yes, but even more so this one,” Mouse said. “If you remember, I told you that the Baron will find out about the ‘Tree of Harmony,’ and being leading a force to the Forest to get to it.”

“I do vaguely remember that,” Maple said.

“Well, this mission is to make sure he comes with an army,” Mouse said.

“I thought you said we raised an army to make sure he brought an army,” Storm said, raising an eyebrow.

“I did, and he’ll have to, but if it’s just him, all he needs to do is sneak around under the cover of night,” Mouse said. “So the question then, is what do we need to get him to attack the armies we raised?”

“You know, I do get tired of you asking us questions when you already know the answers,” Wraith said.

“We need to take the one thing he needs,” Mouse said. “We need to take the tome.”

“We tried that, and we all ran away,” Storm said.

“We tried it too early.”

Mouse explained. “He still needed to learn what he needed to do, and now that he knows, we can move forward.”

Cut nodded. “Alright sure, I guess destiny could keep us from stealing something, I suppose.”

Mouse shook his head. “No, we could have taken it,” he said. “It would have just made things incredibly more difficult.”

“Sure,” Cut said, dismissively.

“The point is, this is where we have to really get the book.”

Wraith nodded. “So what’s the plan?”

“It’s a little involved,” Mouse said with a sigh.

“No change there,” Storm said.

“We’re going to infiltrate a meeting of the Mystic Order,” Mouse said. “They’re going to be having a meeting in a cave in the mountains of the Foal Mountains. The Baron will be at that meeting, and will bring the book with him. This is where we’re going to strike.”

“And we’re going to storm the place?” Storm asked.

“Yes, and no. You, Maple, and Cut will assault the cave from the outside. Wraith, Golden, and I will sneak in.”

“And how’s that going to work?” Golden asked. “Last I checked, I’m not a unicorn.”

“No, but we can work around that,” Mouse said.

“We can?” she asked.

“We’ll have to use Ghoul’s workshop,” Mouse said, to which Wraith frowned.

“Who?” Golden asked.

“Don’t worry about it. The point is, we go in, and take the book, while you assault it. You’ll need to cut a swath for us to escape with.”

“Well, it is in the name,” Cut said with a smirk.

“Now,” Mouse said. “If this is going to work, then everypony needs to follow along perfectly…”

The planning session that explained their parts of the plan was as long and drawn out as Golden thought it would be. Her time in the guard left her knowing enough about security meetings, that she knew it would take an unholy amount of time. Still, she sat through it, listened, and did her best to memorize her part of the plan.

After that, Mouse and Wraith both took her to “Ghoul’s Workshop,” where she quickly became familiar with the mass of makeup, prosthesis, and a number of actual, amputated, bleached unicorn horns that made the collection of disguise paraphernalia.

To be honest, the idea of strapping a unicorn’s horn to her head made her a touch queasy, but Wraith insisted that it would make for the best disguise for the infiltration, and Mouse agreed that it would work. Still, the idea did not sit well with her or her stomach as she thought about it that night.

Sighing, Golden walked back to her room, and began removing her armor for the night. Her breastplate and greaves came off easily enough, and she carefully laid them all along one of the wooden shelves that stuck out of the room, before she heard a knock at her door. Confused, on the account that most of the ponies here climbed into the rafters so that they could mysteriously appear above her in dramatic entrances like the drama queens they were, Golden carefully approached her door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Mouse’s voice called. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah...yeah, come in,” she replied.

Mouse stepped inside, and pulled his hood down, something he rarely did these days. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, I know my part. I know what you need me to do,” she muttered.

“No, I mean how are you feeling?”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “When have you ever cared about my feelings? We hate each other.”

“We might,” Mouse said, “but things have changed.”

“I suppose they have, haven’t they?” Golden said with a sigh. “I’m fine, Mouse. You have a plan, and I can follow along without any trouble. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Mouse said.

“What do you mean?” Golden asked.

“I saw things. I need to worry. It’s important.”

“It is?” Golden asked. “Why?”

Mouse shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”

“I’ll need you to explain that.” Golden said.

“I’m forgetting what I saw,” Mouse said. “Slowly, but surely, I’m forgetting everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything but the important stuff. The plan, what it means, and so on,” Mouse said. “I also remember a few other things, but it’s fading away.”

“Like what?” Golden asked.

“I know what we’re fighting for,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw the end. I saw what happens when we get there. I saw a world where Equestria flourishes. Where ponies lived in mostly peace. Even though it’s fuzzy in my mind, the brilliance of it still rings through me. Even if I forget everything else, I’ll always remember that.”

Golden cocked her head. “So you remember a feeling, and that’s what’s driving you?”

“At this point? Basically,” Mouse said. “That and the Princess. I owe her, after all.”

“You do?” Golden asked.

“Well, I owe Clover. She...she said I’d save everypony. She said I’d be the one to be the hero, and let me tell you, as somepony that grew up in prison, that was some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”

“We still need to talk about that, by the way,” Golden said. “You should not have grown up in a prison. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did, and it’s not a story worth sharing,” Mouse said. “It just happened, Golden. There’s no need to drag it out, no need to mention it. It happened, It ruined my life, and I just need to move on.”

“That’s not healthy, Mouse,” Golden said.

“When did you care about my health?” he said with a smirk. “I thought we hated each other?”

“Things changed,” Golden replied, before sitting on her bed, and motioning for Mouse to sit beside her. “Besides, I’ve processed a lot since you last told me.”

Mouse sighed. “Fine, you want to hear it again? I’ll tell you. I grew up in the prisons. I lived in a literal hole in the wall for years, being taken care of my this old pony. He was basically my father down there, and he did everything in his power to make sure no one knew about me. It was probably for the better, since he was shanked in the back when I was about 14. I started making my way out on my own around then, and the guards just assumed I was supposed to be there. I grew up, not trusting anyone, stealing to eat, and staring up at a window. It was not a nice childhood.”

“I imagine not,” Golden replied. “I imagine it was very lonely.”

“You know, I never thought so,” he admitted. “I was always more concerned about where I was sleeping, when my next meal was, who I’d have to steal from, those kind of things. I didn’t really get a chance to think about it until I wound up staring at the ceiling, thinking about how nice it was to have the old man taking care of me again. Looking back, I was very lonely, but I didn’t have time to worry about. I guess that’s what made the thieves and assassins here so inviting, because, at least on some level, I have ponies that cared. That’s more than what I got when I wandered Canterlot.”

“I can see that. Still illegal though. I’d lose my job if I didn’t remind you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a smirk. “Still, it was the closest thing I had to a family here.”

“And then they were gone?”

“And then they were gone,” Mouse said. “All poisoned by Oracle, though...though I think it had be done, now that I’ve read the tome.”

“Did the tome mention them?”

“Not the part I read. But Oracle might have. He was so certain about it, that I have to assume so. Maybe he was even inspired by the same future that I am.”

“You think it’s because of fate that the others had to die?”

“I wouldn’t put it past Fate. She doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true,” Golden said.

“It sort of is. She told me I wasn’t her first choice.”

The earth pony looked confused. “You met Fate?”

“Seyella, more accurately. She told me that I would save Equestria told me I was the last one who could. I wasn’t her first choice. Not by a long shot.”

“How many gods have you met?” Golden asked.

“Just the three, and Seyella was a bit of a surprise,” Mouse admitted. “She was just there to get me to get to work doing this. Fed me a line about destiny being what should happen, not what does happen.”

Golden didn’t have a response for that.

“Now I’m sitting here, and I know what I need to do for what I should do, and I know that the end is worth it, but it’s just so...I’m just tired. I’m tired of everything. I just want to be done.”

Golden raised her hoof. It hovered for a moment, before coming down to rest on Mouse’s shoulder. “You’re doing well, Mouse. You can do it.”

“Can I, though? Am I doing well? Am I actually here to save this Equestria that only I’ve seen, or am I just being manipulated to do what the fates want? Does anything I’m doing actually matter? If I left right now, would I doom this future I’ve seen, or is everything I thought Destiny would be true, and it’ll happen regardless?”

He sighed.

“I just don’t know, and I’m too tired to find out.”

They sat in silence for a while, before Golden asked “Does it matter?”

“Hm?”

“Does it matter why you’re doing it?” she asked. “You’re doing the right thing, and that matters more, doesn’t it?
If someone saves me, do I have to worry about why he did it?”

“Maybe,” Mouse muttered.

“Mouse, my father…” she hesitated a moment. “My father was a hard working pony, who stood by the idea that doing the right thing was more important than anything else. He’d tell me that all the time, ‘Even if it’s hard, thankless, and don’t make you a copper piece richer, doing right for right’s sake is the best you can do.’ It took me years to appreciate what he meant by that, you know? He could have stepped up and taken over as representative for our landowner back in Earthonia, he could have held the power to vote, and ruled over his neighbors if he wanted to, but he wasn’t that kind of pony.”

Mouse looked up at her.

“He always, always did what was right. No matter what happened to him. He did all the way until the day he died, then do you know what he told me?”

“What?”

“He told me that the only reason he did it was to give me a good example to live by. Why he did it didn’t matter to me, should it matter to you at all?”

“Maybe, I don’t know…”

“Why you do it doesn’t matter, because it’s what you do that inspires. It doesn’t matter that my father was just being an example for me, the fact that he always did the right thing is what made me want to help ponies to begin with. It doesn’t matter if you’re saving the world because you’re ‘supposed’ to, or for some other reason. The fact is you’re saving the world.”

Mouse only gave her a weak smile. “I suppose that holds more weight to it, doesn’t it?”

Golden smirked. “Just a little bit, yeah.”

“What was it like?” Mouse asked.

“What was what like?”

“Growing up, with actual friends, and an actual home. What was that like?” he asked.

“I mean…” she began, “it was fun, I played games with my friends, I helped out along the farm, it wasn’t the most exciting childhood, certainly. After working on the farm all day in the summer, I’d go into town, and buy some honeyed strawberries. That was the highlight, honestly.”

“Growing up on a farm?” he asked. “You know, that actually sounds really nice.” With that, Mouse stood up. “Thanks, Goldie, this was a good talk. Make sure you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Mouse,” Golden said.

Mouse had three Horn cloaks, all in a deep, nearly dazzling purple. Where he secured them from, he didn’t say, though Golden was willing to bet that he “found” them on his solo trips that he took a few days back. Still, Golden was happy for them, simply because they meant that they could hide her nervousness.

She marched up the mountain path, following behind Mouse, while Wraith took the rear, leaving her in the middle. She moved carefully, hoping that the horn that Mouse glued to her head wouldn’t move, despite the terrible itch that grew at the point of contact.

The cloudless, moonless night offered no light to see by, and it was only by the small witchlight that Wraith conjured that the ponies could see where they were going. The narrow, rocky path offered very little in the way of safety, and even less in the way of comfort, as the constant turns and steep angles ate at their energy, and left Golden breathing hard.

No one said a word as they climbed. Golden’s training had taught her not to complain about the trek, and she could only assume that the assassins were used to staying quiet. Even so, there was a tension that Golden felt hang around them.

Slowly they made progress up the mountain, until, finally, they came to a torchlit cave mouth. “Halt, who goes there?” came the voice of the watch guard.

“We’re here for the service,” Mouse replied, before his magic reached for his belt, and pulled out his magical bag, and turned it, so that the five pointed star faced the guard.

He gave it a glance, before looking up at the three ponies in front of him. “I don’t recognize you,” he said.

“Brother Garnet brought me in,” Mouse said. “He also said he would not be able to make it tonight, he sends the baron his deepest sympathies.”

The guard gave them another glance. “Brother Garnet you say?”

Mouse nodded.

“Alright, get in, and hurry. The service is about to start.”

Mouse nodded, and the three ponies ducked inside.

Chapter 41

The cave was dry, and very obviously lived in. Between the candles that dotted the natural hallways and the light spells carried by the two unicorns, Mouse had plenty of light to lead them down into the depths. Again his supernatural knowledge of the place as he led them unerringly down the tunnel unnerved Golden slightly, but she once again set it aside for the mission.

Finally, they came to a new chamber, one whose walls were smooth cut by magic, and lit by magic light, the three of them found themselves staring down a large crowd of cloaked ponies, all of whom meandered in front of a giant altar. On either side of the stone table, statues of large, and presumably noble unicorns, each marked with the five pointed star that the Oath had claimed as their own, reared up as two sentinels, no doubt celebrations of the unicornian form. Behind all of those, a crown sat etched into the wall, and Golden had to hazard a guess that it served as a nod to the Golden Revolutionaries that served in the Horn of the Mystic Oath.

Golden looked around the room carefully, before Mouse motioned them to follow him with a tilt of his head. Golden and Wraith followed wordlessly, moving to the side of the room as the unicorns in attendance continued to mill about the room.

“We’ll need to keep an eye on the altar,” Mouse said. “They’re going to read a passage from the Tome later on as a part of Baron Jet’s attempt to figure out a way to harness it fully.”

“And we’re just going to let them read it?” Wraith asked.

“The pony who will be reading it isn’t going to take much anymore. He’s read from it too many times,” he said. “He’ll go mad before the end of the night.”

“So what’s our plan?” Golden asked.

“We let him read the book, he’ll go mad, and then we grab it while they’re distracted.”

“Good,” Wraith said. “Nice and easy.”

The trio watched as more ponies began to file into the room, whispering to each other in hushed tones. Golden watched them carefully, trying to determine which of these ponies would give her the most trouble, when Wraith whispered to her.

“Are you watching that old stallion in the corner?”

“The one who looks like he’d faint if he held a blade too high?” Golden asked. asked.

Wraith smirked. “He’s probably the most dangerous pony in here. That’s the thing with unicorns, especially mages. The older they are, the more spells they know. You can’t trust what they look like.”

Golden already knew that, and that old pony was very high on her list of ponies to watch. Still, she nodded her thanks anyway, feigning ignorance to please the assassin. Wraith had warmed up a bit to her since their first infiltration mission together in Vanhoover, and Golden wasn’t going to be rude when she was legitimately trying to be helpful.

“Alright, I’ll watch him, but you need to watch the big guy in the corner. Just because we’re surrounded by cultists doesn’t mean all of them are mages by trade.”

Wraith nodded to that, slowly agreeing.

They kept watch of their respective ponies as they waited in the chamber, before one pony stood at the head of the room. “Brothers and Sisters, I do hereby call this meeting to order.”

The rest of those gathered quickly quieted down, and took their places in the room, the older ponies finding seats, while the others found the best place to stand.

Golden, Mouse, and Wraith stayed next to the wall.

When the shifting stopped, the pony behind the altar continued. “Welcome, honored Brothers and Sisters. Before we begin in earnest, we have a number of announcements to get through.”

Half of the gathered ponies groaned, while the other half hushed them.

“The first order of business is recognition of Brother Garnet, his efforts in finding a new meeting spot after the latest sting of murders that those thrice-cursed fools that have come against us.”

The unicorns booed, and the pony at the altar raised a hoof for silence. “Yes, we mourn them all, and we shall avenge them. Our next announcement is news from home. The so-called ‘Queen’ Silver has raised taxes in Unicornia once again, and once again earned the ire of a number of the nobles that still remain. If she continues to rule like this, we may gain allies in the nobles when we march to liberate our home and place Queen Gold back on the throne.”

Golden sighed. She really wasn’t prepared for listening to this. Sure if they had some actual intelligence she could listen into, then at least she could feel better about this. Instead she listened to the itinerary, nearly falling asleep as they continued.

Just when she thought she would be able to take another moment of it, the pony behind the altar spoke again. “Now, finally, my brothers, we shall read from the Tome!”

Excitement sparked through the crowd, and new life flooded both the cultists, and Golden’s attention.

“No, no!” a cry came up from a side room, and all eyes went went to the passage just hidden behind one of unicorn statues. “I can’t do it again!”

An older unicorn was dragged into the room, carried by two large ponies. Golden watched, shocked at their treatment of one of their own as they brought him close to the altar, and opened the Tome in front of him.

“Please, no! I know too much!” the pony whimpered, before his head was all but shoved into the book.

The pages began to flip on their own accord, and the pony screamed as his mind filled with more knowledge than it could take. Golden frowned as she watched, and idly wondered if Mouse had to face this pain when he read the Tome.

Mouse stepped closer. “Almost time. Be ready.”

The reader gasped, as his head came up from the book, and his eyes wildly looked about the room. “We...we have an intruder among us.”

The crowd gasped in surprise, and eyes went wide as they began looking around between them. Golden did not gasp, though her eyes did go wide now that their cover was very nearly blown. Her body tensed, and her eyes quickly went to Mouse, waiting for a signal.

Mouse looked just as surprised as her. “Tha...I didn’t…”

“We need to find these intruders!” A voice called from the crowd of ponies.

“Find them! Burn them!” came the answer.

Almost immediately, the unicorns were whipped into a frenzy, looking this way and that for anypony that they did not recognize. Hoods were torn back, shouting echoed in the small room, as everyone began pointing hooves and searching for the prophesied imposer.

“Stay close,” Mouse whispered. “We need to get the book and get out.”

“Okay, but how? If we make any move for that book, we’re going to be shot with so many spells we could pass for an enchantment gem,” Wraith whispered back.

“I don’t know, give me a second to think and keep those ponies off our backs.”

Mouse’s mind raced as he thought. He had to come up with something.

Why didn’t he remember this? How could he have not seen it? How did he not prepare for this? How did he not know the reader would find them?

The book was on the altar, in front of the whole room, easily noticeable by every single cultist present. Even his invisibility spell wouldn’t get it away. They’d notice the moment he disappeared, and even then, they’d notice the book lift off the table before it slipped under the spell’s aura.

Could Wraith grab it? Her spells were mostly Destruction based. Unless he wanted her to light the Tome on fire, he wasn’t sure it would help any. Golden wasn’t much in the way of help either. Sure, she was incredibly capable, but the second she grabbed anything with her hooves or mouth instead of the magic she didn’t have, she’d be outed as the intruder.

He had to come up with something!

A distraction, maybe? But who would distract? He could, but if they caught him in the tunnels, then it didn’t matter. Fireballs tend not to care if the flesh they burn is invisible or not. If he stayed in the room, then they spread out and find him quickly. He did have his magic-eating knives, but those would only do so much good against so many different spells being cast at once.

He glanced across the room. Ponies were starting to make their way closer, pushing and checking each other as they tried to find the intruder. They’d be on him and the others within seconds.

Maybe he could try and oust one of his companions? It would gain trust, and get enough eyes on the one that they wouldn’t notice the other slipping to the back. It could work, especially if he called out Golden, but there were too many ways it could go wrong. What if they jumped the guard, sure she was tough, but not take-on-forty-cultists at once tough. If he tried Wraith, then she might be able to defend herself against spells, but Golden was not in the physical position to move for the book. They’d see her, or at least had a much higher chance to.

Eyes were leveling on the trio.

Time was up.

He stepped forward, and opened his mouth to speak, before he was suddenly shoved forward, where he went sprawling into the crowd. “You! You’re the intruder!”

Mouse turned, and looked to see Wraith glaring down at Golden, who glared back with equal venom in her eyes. “Me?” the disguised guard asked back. “I certainly don’t recognize you.”

Mouse blinked as the two mares began screaming at each other, each tearing the hood of the other as they did. It took him perhaps a second longer than it needed to, but he realized what they were doing.

They were using the plan he didn’t get to explain, and more importantly, they were the distraction. Mouse took one last look at the ponies around him, before slinking into the crowd.

Golden glared down at Wraith with all her fury, or at least, all her fake fury.

Sure, actually lying made he uncomfortable, but glaring and yelling was her bread and butter as a guard. "There ain't a pony here that knows you!"

"Me? I bet six good bits that nopony here knows your name!" Wraith growled.

"Of course they do! They know my name, and they know that no one here can question my loyalty to the true crown!” Golden said.

The crowd looked between the two, trying to discern which of the two was the proper member.

“So you say, but I don’t think anyone here even knows that you’re loyal to the crown. We don’t even know who you think the true crown belongs to!”

Golden chanced a glance into the crowd, searching for Mouse. “Can you believe her?” she asked as she looked. “She says you don’t know me! Me! After all the work I did for you? She says you don’t know my dedication to the cause! My sacrifices!”

The moment she said it, she knew she went too far, she could see the ponies in the cave were not quite buying it. They were more confused than embarrassed that they did not recognize her, and the latter was fading faster than the former, turning it all into a suspicious glare.

“Methinks the mare protest too much,” Wraith said with a growl.

“You can’t seriously take her word over mine, can you?” Golden asked, her eyes fluttering to the altar for a second which now sat empty. “I can’t believe you! Honestly! You’re going to let her lead you astray so easily?”

Wraith must have seen Mouse grab the Tome as well, because her next move shocked everyone in attendance.

Golden felt the horn on her head go slack and flop to the side of her face, knocked aside by Wraith’s magic. “I think that’s all the proof we need.”

The unicorn cultists were still in shock when Golden moved, plowing her way through the line of confused ponies, before bursting out into the tunnel. She galloped up the tunnels, hoping that she knew the way, only for Mouse’s voice to whisper in her ear.

“You need to stick to the left, but then take the third and fifth right!” he said as they ran up the halls together. “Here’s the book,” he said, before it appeared in front of her. “I’ll keep them off your trail. Just go!”

She ran, following his directions to the letter, left, left, right, left, right, left, left. She ran into a door that she didn’t remember, but charged past it, nearly blowing it off its poor hinges. As the wood splintered, she pushed through, taking one more left, and finding herself staring down a long blade.

“Goldy?” Cut asked, lifting his knife.

“I’ve got the book!” she cried. “We need to go!”

“Right, rendezvous point, this way!” he said, before he led her down the mountain, and away to the meeting point that Mouse had forced every member of the party to memorize. A small clearing surrounded by the mountains waited for them, along with a small campsite that Storm had prepared beforehand.

“Get in the tent,” Cut said, “and hide the book, I’ll watch to make sure that no one gets close.”

Golden nodded, before she slipped in, and only just realized as she laid down how heavy she was breathing. She gulped down the air, trying to slow it down despite her body craving nothing more than to breathe as deep as she could.

A few minutes passed, and slowly, very slowly, her heart calmed, and she found herself alone in the tent. Just her, and the Tome. The thought of the book brought her attention back to it, and she carefully set it before her to get a good look at the treasure that Mouse had taken.

A simple, brown volume with a strange cover sat before her. A white silhouette of divine figure, having both wings and horn, stood against an auburn field on its front. Before the figure of the goddess was an inkwell, and a quill, waiting to write a tale unlike any that came before.

She stared down at the book, whose cover felt cool to the touch. Again, she found herself wondering what Mouse had seen when he first read this book. What secrets did he see? What knowledge did he find? What could she learn if she opened the book?

She carefully opened the cover, where a blank page met her, and then turned the page to the next blank sheet. So far, nothing, no great big mystery of the universe answered, nothing, just blank pages.

And then she turns the page again, and blinks in surprise as it joined a story mid-way.

“The dungeon was his home, and he had lived here for as long as he could remember. He had learned quickly here, among the thieves, revolutionaries, and outlaws, how to be unseen, if only long enough to grab their food and run.

“The din of the prisoners was almost deafening as Mouse slipped into the next cell block, climbing up onto the single wooden rafter beam that crossed them. His hooves barely made a sound, and certainly not one that could be heard over the prisoners as they paced their cells or played card games.”

Golden blinked, before slowly realizing that this story was about none other than Mouse himself. She moved to close the book, but the pages kept flying by. His secrets, his thoughts, his time with the dragon, and the egg, his comforting words for the young colt that had been so hurt, all appeared before her.

She tried to stop it, even as it threatened to bury her in all of his thoughts and intentions. She saw the injustices against him, how every time he tried to do something, it fell apart around him. She felt his frustration as he was denied every chance, and the constant burning desire to live a normal life hit her again and again.

She reached for the cover of the book once more, pulling at the pages as yet more flooded into her. The spurning of everyone around him, his deep regret at killing Cedar, his betrayal of Strom, everything, pouring into her, hitting her in the gut each time.

The book finally slapped shut, and it stopped. She was alone again, only her and her thoughts, no one else’s. She released a shaky breath, and stuffed the tome into a bag, just so she wouldn’t have to look at it. She sighed again, and tried to calm her breathing once more, when the sound of rustling leaves caught her ear. She tensed, reaching for the short blade that hung under her clock, when Maple burst into the tent.

“Ms. Golden! Ms. Golden are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Maple, we made it out, that’s the important thing.”

“Did you get the Tome?”

Golden nodded. “Yes, Yes we did,” she said.

“Then we did it! Mr. Mouse got us what we need again!”

She smiled. “Yes, yes he did.”

“Let’s go get the others!”

“No, no!” Golden said. “We need to stay here, and wait for the others to get back.”

“Yes, we need to stay,” a new voice said, as Mouse shimmered into existence. “The others will come to us.”

“What about Wraith?” Golden asked

“She’s coming,” Mouse said. “She’s actually leading the ‘search’ for us right now, and it’s going to take her a while to slip away. Still, the important thing is that we have the Tome, the baron cannot ignore us now.”

Golden nodded, and they stood just outside the tent, watching for any sign of their party members.

As the minutes turned to hours, the rest of the team waited for the last two ponies to arrive. Storm was the first to return, after Cut went to retrieve him from his post, just so that the searching cultists would not find him. After a few more hours still, Wraith finally arrived, smiling wide and confident that the ponies had been sent on such a wild goose chase that they would not find any trace of the team being there that night.

Finally, as dawn began to crest over the mountains, the party began to move, heading back to the closest Shadowgate, with their prize in hoof.

Baron Jet would have to come after them now, and Mouse merely nodded as the plan slowly came together.

Or, at least, he hoped it was coming together. Instead, his head rang with a simple, terrifying truth. The Tome did not prepare for today, either he had forgotten it, or the Tome just hadn’t told him the whole story. He tried to comb his memory, tried to find some sign that he just made a mistake, but nothing was coming to him.

Did the Tome fail him? Did it refuse to give him everything, or did the answer just slip away? Was it his fault, or was Seyella turning on him again? Or maybe reading the Tome made you invisible from the Tome? Which was it? What was going on?

Was the plan even going to work?

He sighed as they stepped back into the sanctuary. It was only going to get harder from here.

Chapter 42

“The Tome is now ours,” Mouse said before the gathered ponies, “and that means that Baron Jet is going to be chasing us with a vengeance.”

“I should hope so,” Cut said. “This work wouldn’t be worth it if we didn’t have an army coming down on us.”

Maple nodded. “So, what are we going to do in this fight?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Golden said. “The plan is that the army is there to sap ponypower away from the Baron so he has to come after us alone.”

“Or mostly alone,” Wraith agreed. “Being able to hire an army is definitely one for the Baron’s greatest weapons and resources. Assuming he won’t have a team, or at least a personal bodyguard with him would be a dangerous thing to do.”

“The more important thing is that we are going to tie up what resources he does have, and limit them as we go forward,” Storm added. “From there, we can work on securing the book and taking out the Baron without having to wade through an army to get there.”

Mouse looked between them all.

“We have been paying some attention,” Golden said with a smirk.

Mouse shook his head. “Yes, as you’ve said, we are going to be luring the Baron away from his army with the express purpose of limiting his resources. The important thing is where we’re doing that.”

“I don’t like how you said that,” Cut said, as Mouse unfolded a map.

The map revealed the area around the Wilderness Shadowgate, a hold over from the assassins to help plan maneuvers out near the eastern edge of the Darkwood Forest. An “X” sat over a specific spot in the forest, and Golden could only assume it marked the castle of the alicorns, because, really, it’s the only notable thing in the forest. “We need to stop him before he gets here.”

“Why? What’s there?” Cut asked.

“The castle of the alicorns?” Storm asked.

“Alicorns?” Cut repeated.

“Didn’t we tell you about that one?” Golden asked.

“No!” Cut said. “You met actual gods, never said a word, but the moment my military career comes into play you let everyone know? How are you this bad at relaying information?”

“We were kind of on our way to the next job, Cut,” Golden said.

“I told the others,” Storm said. “You just weren’t here when I did.”

“Well glad to know you were thinking of me.”

“Back to the map,” Mouse said, getting their attention. “This is the castle, but most importantly beneath it is the Tree of Harmony.”

“That’s the thing that the Baron needs to get to rewrite history, right?” Wraith asked.

Mouse nodded. “We are going to have to do everything we can to keep him from reaching this point.”

“So we kill him before he gets there,” Wraith said. “Not a problem.”

“Sadly, it will be a bit of a problem,” Mouse said. “One of the things I know beyond any doubt is that the Baron will be bringing a very powerful team of ponies with him, including knights and mages. They are going to be a problem, and we will have to deal with them first.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have some incredibly convenient insight on that team, would you?” Storm asked with a smirk.

“Sadly, no,” Mouse said. “I don’t even know how many are going to be there.”

“Well, that’s useful,” Storm grumbled.

Mouse nodded. “Sorry, but that’s what I have.”

Storm blinked, and hesitated a moment. “I...I think that’s the first, sincere apology I’ve ever gotten from you.”

“Truly dark days,” Mouse muttered.

“There’s the sarcasm,” Cut said. “Ya almost had us worried, there.”

“In all seriousness,” Mouse said, as he looked across the table. “I am sorry, the coming days will be hard, and I need to give you every tool I can, to prepare you for that. But I can’t. I don’t have everything we need and…”

The others waited and watched him as he stood there.

“This will be dangerous,” he said finally. “Incredibly dangerous. Some of us will not survive this fight. I don’t remember who, anymore. It could be you, it could be me, it could be all of us, but sompony will. All we can, and must do, is stop Baron Jet before he gets to the Tree.”

Another long moment stretched across those surrounding the table.

Cut nodded. “Well, if nothing else, this sounds like my old jobs. Let’s get ready. Storm, what do we need to pack for the Darkwood?”

Storm groaned. “I’m going to have to go shopping.”

Mouse dropped a large sack of coins on the table. “Get everything you need.”

“Sincerity, and now Generosity?” Storm asked. “You’re starting to worry me now.”

Mouse shook his head. “Just go ahead, and get the supplies. It’ll give me a little time to break down and plan what we all have to do.” Without another word, Mouse stepped away from the table, and disappeared into his room. With Golden watching him every step of the way.

Mouse sighed as he stood with his head against the wall. Slowly, he brought his head back, and then back to the wall. He felt the cold stone against his skull, and prayed it would help clear his head.

Storm didn’t deserve to die on this mission. Storm was a good pony, the leader of the Darkwood company, and dedicated to helping ponies with various needs and jobs. Ponies depended on him, needed him. His noble bearing and example for the community meant that he simply couldn’t die, not now.

Cut didn’t deserve to die either. Sure, Cut was a criminal, but he was only a criminal to better help the country of Equestria. He used to be a war hero, and still could have been, if not for the fact that he went into hiding to work in the shadows. He still had so much good work to do, and cutting it short would only hurt the world. He couldn’t die, he definitely couldn’t.

Maple didn’t deserve to die. The boy was too young. He hadn’t had the chance to make his mark on the world. He hadn’t had a chance to work at his dreams, success or failure. He had so much promise and potential still in him. Maple could still harness the power of the runes and lead ponykind forward into a new future of magic. There was so much he could still do, he couldn’t be one of the ones who die.

Wraith didn’t deserve to die, either. Yes, she was a murder, but the poor mare’s thoughts had been so twisted. The truth about herself that she did not know still burned in his head, as fresh now as it had been when he read it in the Tome. She could be redeemed yet, better than he could, definitely, and all it would take is the right step. She could become a great teacher, mage, or spy if she so desired, she had so much good she could do. It would be a true, unshakable tragedy is she passed.

Golden certainly couldn’t die. She was a guard. An upstanding member of society, and for once, Mouse thought the two actually belonged together with her. She didn’t beat those below her, and she protected the weak. After all, that little colt they saved together wasn’t the only pony she helped. She had to be the only good guard that Mouse knew, and he knew enough that he still considered himself an expert on the matter. She had to live, had to.

That left him.

He was a victim-turned-criminal. He had his shot at an innocent life, and he squandered it. He wasted every chance he had, and had so little to show for it. A few magic daggers, and the thanks of a Princess he barely helped were the most valuable things Mouse had earned in the past half a year of work, but that was it. If anyone deserved to die, it was himself by far.

But he knew his path. He knew what he was. The nail for the horseshoe of the soldier, who won the battle, who won the war. The nail that “for want of,” everything fell apart. He had to hold, or everything around him fell apart. Equestria needed him to live.

Still, someone had to die, and as he brought his head back to the wall again, he still found himself hoping that he’d be the one to do it.

He slowly pushed his head into the wall again.

“You know, I’d think keeping my head clear was more important than digging a hole in the wall with your horn,” a voice said behind him, and he turned to see Golden standing in the doorway of his room.

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Mouse said.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “You’re not one to be moody.”

“Moody?” he asked. “We’re going to die, Golden. At least one of us is, and I’m the one leading us to that. I have the weight of at least one of us over my head, and you’re calling me moody?”

Golden shrugged. “You’ve held that weight before. Wraith has, Storm has, Cut has, I have when I’ve gone on my rounds. The only one I think who hasn’t had a life weigh on them has to be Maple, but he’s still young. We all know what you’re thinking, and personally, I’m glad you feel like this about it, but you need to straighten up and be a commander.”

“What are you talking about?” Mouse asked.

“I…” she began. “It’s the best way I know how to put it. A commander always feels the weight of the lives of those he’s responsible for, but he has to send them out. He faces the oncoming battle without a single worry on his face. He can’t afford to show the worry, he can’t let his men worry about him when they have so much they still need to do.”

Mouse allowed himself a smirk. “So what? I should lie then? I thought you prefer it when I’m honest?”

“It’s not...lying. It’s keeping your mind clear until it’s too late. It’s not letting yourself make things worse. We know you’re worried, and well, most of us can take it. Maple can’t though. The poor kid is terrified. The rest of us know what it’s like to get ready to sacrifice our lives. We’ve done it before, and we’re here now doing it again. But if you keep acting like this, I don’t know if Maple’s going to make it. You need to be strong for him, if nothing else.”

Mouse went silent.

“Maple needs you to stay confident, if only so that he can pretend that he can do it.”

Mouse nodded.

“We need you to be a commander, Mouse. Not matter what the cost that you’ve seen.”

Neither of them spoke for a while, until finally, Mouse nodded. “Alright, alright. For Maple, then.”

Golden nodded and smiled. “For Maple.”

The team stepped out of the Shadowgate, and found themselves standing on a hill just north of the Legion that Commander Hurricane gathered. Cut instantly recognized the camp’s layout as the classic Pegasopilan method, and quickly directed Mouse and the others to the Principa in the middle of the camp.

As they made their way down the hill, and approached the fortified camp, Mouse led the team of ponies down, walking proudly with his head held high. Sure enough, just as Golden had said, it had a rejuvenating effect on the team, and every pony in the team matched his posture, with a confident grin on their faces. Even, and especially Maple.

They were met at one of the small, fortified gates, and recieved a little resistance from the guarding ponies on watch. Despite that, however, they managed to make their way in, and walked down the main road to the tent that served as the headquarters. The tent was furnished with a table, some chairs, a brazier, and a map that the Commander was pouring over.

The Commander looked up, and nodded. “Decanus Wind, good to see you.”

“Commander,” Cut replied.

“Well, according to our Immunes, there is, in fact, a force of nearly three thousand ponies from Unicornia, through Queen Gold refuses to admit they are hers. In her defense, the army is not flying any Unicorninan banners and they don’t seem to have any knights, but this still isn’t going to be an easy fight.”

Cut nodded. “That matches the description of the force we collected. The private army of a noble that has been living and working here in Equestria, Baron Jet.”

“He’s one of our nobles?” Hurricane asked.

“At least he wanted us to believe he was,” Cut explained. “More likely, he still owes most of his allegiance to Unicornia.”

Hurricane nodded. “So the Queen’s making a push while trying to avoid political backlash, smart.”

Cut nodded again, deciding that explaining the difference wasn’t work the time or effort. “We have an additional piece of intelligence, Commander,” he said. “We understand that a number of Sappers mean to infiltrate the camp while you are engaged with the enemy.”

Hurricane looked up from the map. “Do you know how?”

Cut shook his head, and approached the map, before pointing at the West side. “Only that they mean to come in from the Darkwood.”

“What do they want to accomplish there?” The commander asked.

“We don’t know, but, I am requesting permission to take my team and deal with them, sir.”

The Commander looked up at him. “You think the sappers are that dangerous that the camp guards cannot take them?”

Cut nodded. “My sources say that they will be armed with powerful artifacts, and mages. You will have enough to worry about, as will the camp guards, without having to worry about a fireball from behind.”

Hurricane fronwed. “Very well, you may go, and may Ventus give you speed.”

Cut nodded, “The fury of the Storm go with you,” he answered back.

“I will let the Quartermaster know if you need to stock up on supplies or rations.”

Cut nodded. “We have that covered. But a place to sleep the night would not be unwelcome.”

The commander nodded. “There’s a spot by my tent that hasn’t been taken up. It’s supposed to be for my praetorium, but there’s no time for building a proper house there.”

Cut nodded. “Thank you, that will be more than enough.”

The party nodded, before stepping out of the tent, and back in the large open area next to the Commander’s tent, unmistakable by its size and the large banner that hung from the rainfly of the tent. “We have the time, right, Mouse?”

“One night,” Mouse said. “But we’ll have to leave at midnight to catch them in time.”

Cut nodded. “Then at the very least, we’ll get ourselves rested before we run into the night.”

“Still not sure it’s a good idea,” Storm said.

“It’s the best one we have,” Golden said.

“Agreed. Still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Without much fanfare, they set up their tents, building a shelter to take care of them for the afternoon. Cut went to the bread ovens that had been built with packed dirt that once came from the ditch that surrounded the wall of wooden stakes around the camp for warm food, and Golden spent a few coins getting her armor touched up in the workshops across the main road that ran along the north-south line through the camp.

Just as he finished setting up the second of three tents, Mouse swore he heard something. “You’ll be alright, kid,” Wraith’s voice said. “The Darkwood is nothing compared to magic, and we have enough between the two of us.”

“But...I mean, my magic is really dangerous,” Maple said.

Mouse peaked around the corner of his tent to see the unicorn hovering over the young stallion’s side. Maple’s face was a mess of nerves and barely-contained panic, and Mouse suddenly became very aware of the brave face he was putting forward.

“All magic is dangerous,” Wraith said, offering her own unique brand of murderous comfort. “Anyone can walk into a tavern and ignite the whole thing with a fireball. That’s nothing new. The only difference between what I can do, and what you can do, is that you need to be careful with what gets eaten.”

“I know! That’s the problem! I don’t know if I have enough life force to keep my runes charged!”

Wraith shook her head. “Kid, we’re going into the Darkwood, you’ll have so much to leech off of that if you’re using anything other than the surroundings, you’re doing it wrong.”

“I...really don’t like the term ‘leech,’” he muttered.

“You’ll be fine, Kid, don’t worry about it.”

Mouse backed up out of sight, before moving back forward and around the corner. The moment he came into view, Maple saw him and his face slipped back into a mask of confidence. Almost as if he hadn’t been on the verge of a breakdown a second ago.

“How’re the tents?” Mouse asked.

“Ready, sir!” Maple replied with gusto.

“Good. Now get ready for some sleep Cut will be back with the bread any minute, and then we need to get to sleep.”

“You got it.”

Mouse nodded, “And Maple?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be just fine, we’ll be there for you.”

Maple hesitated, before nodding. “Yes, sir.”

As the young earth pony disappeared for his evening preparations, Mouse turned to Wraith. “Keeping him ready?”

“Trying to,” Wraith said. “He’s trying not to appear nervous, but I can tell he’s anxious. I’m trying to bring him back down again, so the mission isn’t endangered.”

Mouse nodded. “I know. You did a good job, too. He’ll be there when we need him.”

“I know he will,” Wraith said. “I’ve been around him long enough to know what he can do. He’ll be there for us.”

Mouse nodded. “He will,” he agreed, before checking the sun’s position. “Get some rest, Wraith. We’ll need to be fresh for tonight.”

She nodded, before ducking into her tent. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

A few miles away, Luna stood on her balcony, looking out over the East, where the smoke for the campfires rose over the canopy of trees. She sighed as she watched the smoke lazily drift into the sky, knowing full well that this was the army Mouse told them he would raise.

They’d be going to war soon. Pony would fight pony yet again, and blood would be spilled. Meanwhile, Luna would be here, letting them go to war without so much as raising a hoof to defend them. The smell of death would reek across the forest and the plain, and she was sure that she’d be able to smell it from here.

She dropped her head to the railing. How had this gotten so bad? She was supposed to be a guardian of these ponies, she was supposed to protect them, and here they were, about to go to war on her doorstep. They were going to go to war, and all she was going to do was watch.

Well, she’d watch them at best. At worse she’d leave them all to die, running in the face of their battle like a coward.

“Sister,” Celestia said behind her. “We need to leave. Our time has come, and we must leave.”

“Must we, Celesita? Must we leave?”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Luna, don’t. Don’t fall for this foolishness. It’s not our place to interfere.”

“Oh, of course not, Celestia,” she replied. “We weren’t meant to help protect ponies and guide them into the future.”

“Luna, we’re not leaders. We were not made to be leaders. We were made to get them set up, and then we must be on our way.”

“Of course, Celestia, of course,” she muttered back.

“Now, you need to get ready. We will be leaving soon, for the last time.”

Luna sighed. “I know. I know," she grumbled, before looking out back over the trees to the drifting smoke.

Chapter 43

Midnight loomed over them.

Crickets chirped as the team of ponies gathered their supplies. Nearby, the large commander’s tents sat silent with the exception of the occasional snore. They did they’re best to move as silently as they could to move out of the camp without waking anyone, but they did find themselves forced to speak with the guards on the way out.

Still, by the time midnight came, they were out, and heading into the Darkwood Forest. The moment they walked out of earshot of the camp, Mouse began to give orders. “Alright, Storm, Cut, you two will scout out the path to the Castle. We’ll make our stops along the way. Everyone remember your posts?”

“Storm and I will stick to the edge of the forest,” Cut recited. “We’re both experienced enough with the Darkwood, and good enough scouts that we’ll see the Baron’s men coming, and make enough noise to get Wraith’s attention.”

“The kid and I, meanwhile, will be between you and the tree,” Wraith said, motioning to Maple. “After you soften them up, and let us know where they’re coming from, we hit them with as many spells and magic we can. If they’re the opening act, we’re the hammer.”

Golden nodded. “After them, I’m going in. With luck, Maple and Wraith will have taken care of most of the incoming force, and I will take clean up. By the time they get to me, there shouldn’t be anypony else.”

Mouse nodded. “And that just leaves me. I’ll be guarding the Tome, staying as far away from the Tree, and the Baron’s warpath as possible, without leading him away from the woods. I’m the target, and the baint, but as long as the Baron does not get the book, then we win, and that’s the important thing.”

The ponies nodded, before they made their way deeper into the forest.

Baron Jet stood on the hillside, and glared down at the camp. Somehow, beyond all reason, the Equestrians had brought a Legion to the Darkwood Forest, and set up camp not far from where the Tome lay hidden.

He stared down at the pegasopolian castra, and silently cursed them. He knew that the Equestrians would bring some kind of military force, but he never expected a full Legion to come down. His own force wouldn’t be able to overcome them in a day, and he couldn’t let the Tome slip away, not when he was so close to the Summer solstice. He would need to reach the Tree by noon, and there was no way he could get his army to beat through the Legion on the opposite hill, nearly half-a-mile away.

The better question, was how did the thief who took the Tome convince the Equestrians to bring a Legion?

“My lord?” his bodyguard, a large but dumb earth pony grumbled.

Jet sighed. “Have the army attack at dawn; you, the team and I will need to move under the cover of darkness.”

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said, before he slipped away.

The Baron, meanwhile, glared back down on the camp, before heading into his own tent. He muttered darkly to himself, as he stepped into the refined shelter, passing by his modest wine rack, as he made his way to the armory.

He perused the selection of weapons and armor, before slowly choosing a single rapier. The enchanted weapon floated up by his side, directed by the faintest push of his telekinetic grasp. The sword moved carefully, its potential for precision obvious in it’s gentle movements, the perfect tool for delivering his wrath.

No one was going to stand between him and the Tome. Not now. Not when he spent so long. He’d have his revenge against Queen Silver, and nothing was going to stop him.

“My Lord?” the bodyguard said, returning, and standing at the door of the Baron’s tent.

He glanced back, at the five ponies gathered in front of him. He had the Knight Brilliant Crystal, the only pony whose name he knew of the five, dressed in his armor, and armed with lance and sword. Sir Brilliant stood with grim determination, his face betraying no emotion as he stood at attention.

The next down the line was a mage, a wizard that the Baron had worked very hard on ignoring. The pompous unicorn glared down at the end of his nose, offering no words as he stood, not quite at attention, but neither slouching. He tried his best to exude a noble atmosphere, but the Baron saw right through the desperate attempt to appear powerful. Still, he would suffice.

Next down the line was the artillerist. Another mage, though specializing in siege tactics and unleashing a massive amount of firepower from a long range. While the later would not be as useful, the Baron knew that there was some kind of fortress in the forest that guarded the Tree he needed, so a siege specialist was certainly welcome.

After him came the Scout, one of the army’s lightly-armored fighters, skilled with a bow, as well as a short sword, and sneaking past enemy lines. Supposedly, he was one of the best they had, if his bodyguard was to be believed. His skill would be incredibly useful for this mission.

Finally, there was the bodyguard himself, the only pony among them who wasn’t a unicorn. The bodyguard came from a family of pony that had been in service to his own for centuries, though he was the first born as an earth pony.

The Baron had decided many years ago not to hold that against him. “You five, I need you all to come with me.”

They nodded, and followed behind, without saying a word.

The Baron strode forward in the darkness, slowly approaching the Darkwood Forest, doing their best to go around the Castra without being noticed. So far, it seemed as if no one had notices, mostly because of the Scout’s excellent work before hand.

They made their way across the valley without any trouble, and entered the forest without even being slowed down. “Scout, do you have our heading?” the Baron asked as he glanced at the lightly-armored unicorn.

The scout dutifully checked the magical compass that the Baron had given him, powered by a large emerald gem at its point. “Yes, sir! The target is East Northeast of here.”

“Wonderful,” the Baron replied. “Lead the way, we have much to do tonight.”

They pushed forward, carefully. The team of unicorns picked their way through the underbrush, avoiding any major obstacles, and doing their best to go unnoticed. They barely made a sound as they passed, with the exception of the occasional crack of a twig, or the shuffle of leaves that did not go twenty feet beyond the trees.

That's what made the sudden battlecry all the more shocking.

An armored pegasus leapt from behind a tree, swinging a blade from above and down on the scout, before another pegasus shot out from the dark, carrying a short sword aimed directly for the Knight’s neck.

Both of them lived only because of speed, and thick armor respectively. The pegasi shot back into the darkness and underbrush, before they shot out again, swinging blades at anyone they could.

The Baron’s rapier rang as it deflected an attack, bending back as the weight of the blow hit it. He silently thanked the enchantment placed on the blade, before spinning around, trying to face his foe as they fell into the underbrush once more.

Another swooping attack would have ended him there, if his bodyguard hadn’t come up from behind, catching the pegasus’ blade just before it reached the Baron’s throat.

The rest of the Baron’s team quickly gathered together and turned, each facing outward, where the pegasi attacked from the shadows.Their weapons were up and ready, but now silence echoed around them, and neither of their attackers appeared again.

A second passed, then a minute, before the artillerist growled in anger. “You cowards!” he growled, “Let’s see how you stand to this!”

The mage yelled, and a raised a hoof to hold him back, but the artillerist had already completed his spell. A fireball as wide as a pony was tall roared to life, scorching and crackling anything around as it consumed the plants and animals that hid in the underbrush. A flash of brilliant, orange-hued light nearly blinded them, and more than half of them were forced to turn their eyes away from the blast that tore through the woods. Trees snapped from the heat, trucks hissing as the liquid in them boiled away, leaves withered, and yells were muffled.

When the fireball finally winked out of existence, a massive, scroced gouge in the earth and a dozen or so small, residual fires remained as the only evidence of the spell.

“You idiot!” The mage yelled. “Now the entire camp will know we’re here!”

“As if they don’t!” the artillerist yelled back.

A pegasus shot across the clearing, blade coming up for the Baron’s throat once more, before the bodyguard moved again, coming to his defense in the blink of an eye. The bodyguard’s thick blade rang in defiance against the attacker’s sword, but it couldn’t come to his defense as the other pegasus rushed in.

Sir Brilliant blocked the second attacker, and both of the stared at each other, eyes wide. “You!” they both cried.

Another attack from the other Pegasus forced the bodyguard to come back to the Lord’s defense, before the knight and the pegasus he was fighting was forced back. They slammed into each other again, slashing with blades and punching with hooves as they tried to stop the other one.

“You should have stayed lost, whelp!” Brilliant yelled.

“You can’t stop me, Brilliant! I will avenge Steel!”

“You couldn’t even if you tried!”

The second pegasus shot forward again, slamming into the lightly-armored unicorn of the scout, before yelling. “Storm! Storm, what are you doing?”

The Scout’s bow suddenly shot upward, catching the pegasus in the throat, before throwing him to the ground. The Scout pounced on him, using his bow to choke the attacker. “Go! Go! We’ll hold them off!”

“Run!” Jet ordered, before pushing the wizards forward. “Run!”

Storm stared down the Knight.

Storm could never forget that face, no matter how many years passed, or how age changed it. He knew that face.

Storm swung his blade around, trying to catch the knight in the unarmored temple, but the Knight knew the maneuver as well as he did. The Knight’s sword caught the blade, saving himself from the attack with just inches.

Storm hated that face. He hated it perhaps more than his master did, in fact, Storm knew he did.

He struck again, trying to break down the Knight’s guard, only for Brilliant to counter and make his own attack.

“You’re not even half of the fighter he was,” the Knight growled.

Storm answered with a headbutt. “I only need to be a quarter of what he was to stop you.”

They came together again, the Knight taking full advantage of his armored body, taking hits to his shoulders and side where the solid steel plates protected him. Storm, meanwhile only wore a handful of plates, as the pegasi traditionally did, leaving large sections of his body vulnerable, yet more maneuverable. Forced to dodge and parry, Storm was quickly put on the back leg, while Brilliant became more aggressive, taking hits that Storm could not afford.

“Sir Steel should never have taken you in,” Brilliant answered back. “All it did was doom you.”

“And if he knew what kind of monster you’d become he might have finished the job he started!”

Brilliant’s demeanor changed in an instant, his face went from smug and confident to furious in the blink of an eye. “He was a murder! He slaughtered everyone!”

“He was the best pony I ever knew!” Storm cried, making his next attack.

“Then you keep the company of craven killers!”

“If he was wiping you off the face of the earth, then that makes him a hero!”

Brilliant rushed forward, and brought his blade down, smashing through Storm’s defense. His sword hoof buckled, and the knight’s own sword bit deep into his shoulder. “I took my divine right of vengeance! I took the life he ruined back! He molded me into a monster!”

Storm roared, as he tore free from the sword. Steel flashed as their blades met again, and storm pushed free before attacking again.

“I have seen worse monsters than you do better than you can dream!” Storm said. “I have seen murderers rise to selfless heros that would sacrifice everything for a single change at redemption! You are nothing compared to him! Nothing but a failure!”

“And what does he know of what I’ve been through? What I’ve suffered? Your master killed my entire family! I was left alone! I had nothing! What can he know of what I’ve been through!”

Storm slashed against the knight once more, pushing him back, a deep growl escaping his throat. “Suffering is not yours alone!”

“He caused it, he knew it, and he stood before me for justice, just like the murderer deserved!”

“He had more honor and courage in his hoof, than you have in your entire body!”

Strike after strike filled the air, blow after blow forced aside, as the two ponies fought each other, fury burning in each other’s eyes.

“It’s no surprise that a murderer would extol the virtues of a murderer,” Brilliant growled.

“You cut Steel down, in cold blood!”

“He offered himself to me! He knew I would hunt him down to the very ends of the world! He gave himself up to me, because he knew that he would never rest again!”

“He gave himself up to atone!” Storm yelled back. “He didn’t need to run, didn’t need to come to you, but he chose to anyway!”

“No coward would have faced me!”

“He was no coward!” Storm yelled.

The Knight’s blade came down again, and dug into Storm’s side, digging deep. “He was a coward and a fool. He faced me in combat and died. What’s more, you seem likely to join him.”

Storm brought his blade around, and Brilliant pulled his blade out of the new wound, to block.

Storm’s vision swam as his blow hit the knight’s sword, his blood seeping out of his wounds. “He was no coward.”

Brilliant stared down at him. “When I killed Sir Steel, he asked me to spare you. I honored that until today, now that you’ve faced me. Today you die, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Storm glanced up, trying to see Brilliant’s face as he stared down at him. The firelight cast dark shadows that made his already darkening vision nearly impossible to see him, but Storm knew he was there, glaring down at him.

“Farewell, whelp,” Brilliant said before an arrow seemed to grow from his neck.

The knight’s eyes widened as he glanced down at the arrow, before falling over, only a gurgle escaping his lips.

Cut stood ten feet away, the scout’s bow in his hooves. He coughed as he tried to regain his breath again, before tossing the bow down beside the strangled body of the scout. “Have a...history there...Stormy…”

“Did...did you...did you just call me Stormy?” Storm asked, dropping his blade to hold onto his seeping wound. “Am I going...going to die knowing that the last thing...I heard was someone calling me ‘Stormy.’”

“Hey, no dying,” Cut gasped, before falling to his rump and drawing some bandages from a pouch on his belt. “Not yet, anyway. If anypony here is going to make a heroic sacrifice, then it’s going to be me.”

“You?” Storm asked. “What makes...what makes you think you get to make...that sacrifice?”

“It’s what we all do,” Cut said. “Hurricane’s Hundred are doomed to make those kinds of sacrifices.”

“Well, too bad,” Storm said. “I’m the one losing all the blood.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Cut said, before signing as he tied off Storm’s shoulder. “No, we’re going to live, Stormy.”

“Stop calling me Stormy.”

“You’ll have to make me stop.”

Storm laughed and sighed. “I guess I’ll have to live then, if only to beat you up later.”

“Yup. Right now, though, I’m just going to take a nap. That unicorn there had a mean grip.”

They sighed, staring off past the trees to an unseen horizon.

“I hope we make it out of here alive,” Cut sighed.

“I just hope this plan works.”

Chapter 44

“Move faster!” The baron ordered, pushing his team of ponies deeper into the forest. The two mages, though bickering between each other, were pushed forward by the dutiful bodyguard.

“You idiot! The entire camp knows we’re here now!” the Mage fumed.

The artillerist merely offered a contemptuous glare. “They knew we were here. They had an ambush planned. There’s no way that’s an accident.”

The Baron had other thoughts. It was possible, he surmised, that somepony had read the tome and knew they were going to be there. It was equally possible that if someone had read the tome, that there were going to be other ambushes further along.

Of course, if someone had read the tome, they would know better than to lead him and his party directly to the book, and the place he needed to use it.

“Stay quiet,” the Baron ordered, and the bodyguard enforced it with a quick hit to the gut with a club that he hung next to his scabbard. “We never know who’s coming up behind us.”

The creaking of wood and the croak of animals in the dark echoed behind them, leaving the party of five unicorns otherwise in silence. The Baron especially kept his ears open for any sign of pursuing enemies. After a moment, he turned to the others, “It seems we’re not being followed. Now, we need to move quickly and quietly if there are ponies out there looking for us, then we need to avoid them at all costs. Now move, quietly.”

The mages grumbled but obeyed. Moving forward as they tried to navigate the forested darkness. They passed over root and underbrush, moving beneath the canopy.

A half an hour passed as they moved, then another hour, at their slow, nearly creeping pace. They crawled through the underbrush, despite the mumbling and complaining of the mages, though each time they brought it up, they were silenced by a quick, and painful blow to the head by the bodyguard.

Still, it became obvious that the stealthy approach was grating on the artillerist’s nerves most of all. His face screwed up in frustration with every minute that passed. “This is ridiculous,” he finally hissed, before the bodyguard hit him again. “It’s true! We’re crawling in the dark, pretending that there’s someone out there who can see us. It’s ridiculous, and I’m not going to stand it any longer!”

The artillerist stood tall amidst the underbrush, yelling as he did. “Even if somepony finds us, we have the power of magic with us, we can destroy anyone who comes against us!”

“Get down!” the Baron growled, and the bodyguard gave another blow to the artillerist’s legs.

The artillerist buckled, dropping as his legs went out from under him, just as a beam of burning red light shot just above him, grazing the hairs of his mane. The beam continued, slamming into a tree further down the way, before erupting in an explosion of light and fire.

“Scatter!” the mage yelled, and the Baron’s party quickly split up.

The Mage rushed behind another tree, searching for cover. Already, his mind was at work, trying to determine where the attack came from. The beam came from a northerly direction, but, more worryingly, he couldn’t be sure of where.

He knew that his attackers must be coming from the north, but because this was Equestria, the chances of facing a mixed unit increased dramatically. There was a good chance that pegasi were sneaking in the canopy above them, hovering just under the branches for an ambush.

The mage glanced up, searching the darkness above him for any sign of additional attackers.

Another second passed, before another magical blast ripped through the underbrush. The mage glanced up and watched the north side light up as an explosion rocked their path, originating from the opposite side.

Were there two mages? One on each side of the path? Why would they keep the mages so far apart? There’s too much risk of friendly fire that way. Or did they somehow know that the group would be coming along this path? If so, how?

He thought about it for another second or so, before a third blast shot up from behind them.

From behind? Did we pass someone? How? Did they have an illusionist? An illusionist that had a very powerful destruction spell was technically possible here in this lawless land of Equestria, but certainly not back in Unicornia. Still, the idea could be plausible, but unlikely.

Another beam shot at them from the darkness before them, passing by the mage within a hoof’s distance, before an explosion rocked the area behind them.

Ahead as well? Did they not care for each other’s lives? The way the mages had to be set up for this kind of attack made no sense. Even if they had perfectly predicted where the Baron’s party was coming from, attacking like this meant that they’d be constantly in danger of attacking each other and...and...and why did he feel so tired?

The wizard glanced down and blinked when he saw the drooping, withering plants in front of him. He blinked, before pushing the dying foliage aside.

A rock stared back up at him. More specifically, a rock with a rune carefully printed on its face. The mage blinked as he saw it before the gears in his head began to turn. Earth pony witchcraft? Do they have a runewitch? Then...then that’s how they’re doing it! They didn’t predict where we’d come from, they just laid magical traps.

These Equestrians had no scruples. Using such witchcraft.

He turned to face the general direction of the Baron and sent a magical message across the underbrush between them. “They’re using rune magic to make traps! We need to leave before the mages get here and begin their assault.”

“Move forward! They’re coming for us, we must move!”

A brilliant beam of pure death shot by, cleanly cutting a perfect hole through a tree, before eating away at the wood. The tree decayed before the mage’s eyes, and he barely had the time to leap out of the way of falling tree.

It crashed to the ground, splintering before the spell’s decay effect dissolved the tree entirely, and the mage quickly picked himself up and re-tracing the latest beam’s path. That spell was not like the others, which meant that either the runewitch had multiple spells stored in his runes, or…

He threw up a shield just as another beam struck him, before countering with his own spell. A bolt of lightning shot back into the shadows, along the same path as the beam before it. The crack of thunder shook the trees, and a figure leaped away from the underbrush.

“I’ve found him!”

He fired another spell after the white unicorn, but she had already disappeared.

“Oh, you’re not getting away from me,” the mage growled with a smirk.

“Leave her!” the Baron yelled. “We need to push forward, she’s just a distraction.”

A distraction? “She’s a powerful mage, she could come after us!”

“We need to move!” he ordered again, as the bodyguard leveled a glance at the mage, his club rising threateningly.

“But she’s—” the mage began, only for the club to raise slightly higher. The mage glared down at the simple pony, before acquiescing, following the order with a grumble under his breath.

The Baron forced them on, creeping once again through the underbrush while trying to avoid the glare of the unicorn that stalked them. Additionally, now that he knew what they were up against, the Mage kept his nose to the ground, searching for any sign of rune magic.

It was to his immense credit that he found a rune moments before it exploded in his face. Flame and fire erupted in the underbrush, sending the ponies flying through the air. The mage stood with his head ringing, reeling on his hooves, and barely had time to recognize the fact that a white unicorn was charging him.

He leaped back, barely dodging the mare’s—because she was very obviously a mare now that she was close—glowing hoof.

As the mage stumbled back, he quickly came to a sudden and terrible realization. His opponent was well trained. She recognized that he had a shield that he could counter with, so she switched to a touch-spell. It was a classic stratagem of spell warfare.

She knew what she was doing, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, she had already disappeared.

He prepared another shield spell, hoping that the unicorn would fall back and—

A rock came flying toward his head, slipping past the shield without a problem, before the rune on it erupted into pure, magical force.

Blown backward again, the mage landed and rolled. He cursed under his breath, and got his hooves back under him. This was getting ridiculous, this mage and her witch needed to be stopped.

Wraith slipped into the thick foliage beneath the trees once again. The little throwing stones that the Kid had made her were working like a charm. Spell shields couldn’t stop a projectile, and projectile shields didn’t stop spells. The rocks offered her the perfect opportunity to switch it up at any moment.

The mage and the artillerist both seemed to be having a rough go of it. The former already seemed frustrated by her skills, and the latter was blowing up chunks of the forest in response. Still, she lost sight of both the Baron and his bodyguard in the chaos, but she was sure the Kid could stay out of their way.

Chasing after those two was not viable, even if the Baron was the priority target. Leaving these two spellcasters on their own would only ensure that they’d be ambushed from behind, and, in her experience, a fireball hitting someone’s behind is incredibly effective.

Of course, Wraith was also sure that the Ms. Guard Goldilocks could take on both of the unicorns on her own. Keeping these two out of the picture seemed to be the greatest priority at the moment.

The artillerist shot another fireball into the forest, destroying more trees as the fire consumed the plant life around him. The poor little stallion was out of his element here, the lack of visibility made his incredible destructive power next to useless, while any spell powerful enough to destroy his cover quickly would likewise blow him up.

As it stood, the stallion was either brilliant in how he used lower-power spells to try to clear up the battlefield, or incredibly stupid in his insistence to continue to cast spells at point-blank range. At this rate, she could almost count on him to kill himself.

She tossed another of the Kid’s exploding rocks at him for good measure before refocusing on the mage. This stallion knew what he was doing, though he probably didn’t have an answer for Maple’s rocks, she could tell he was trying to piece one together. She’d watch enough ponies die to recognize the wild, but not a panicked movement of the mage’s eyes to know he was thinking, and a thinking mage was a dangerous thing.

She slipped between the vines, bushes, and briars that covered the forest floor, hardly disturbing a leaf as she went. The mage glanced about, less wild now, a sign which she could interpret to mean he had a plan now.

She smirked to herself, but it was probably not good enough. She carefully took a rock, and moved it beside her, coming around the mage to hit him from the opposite side of the clearing. With some careful concentration, catapulted it straight at his head.

He spun, throwing up a projectile shield that blocked the pebble before it exploded and the moment it did, Wraith pounced. Firing a spell as she moved, she landed hard and slid across the clearing, while her spell reflected off the spell shield that the mage conjured.

“There you are!” he growled.

Wraith threw another stone, and the mage quickly threw up his other shield, before she cast another spell.

The mage raised the spell shield again before Wraith tossed her last stone and disappeared back into the foliage. As she thought, the mage could barely keep up with both shields. He had no way to attack when on the defensive, which suited her just fine. Keeping him on the defensive would force him to expend stamina on constantly casting shield spells.

Unfortunately, she ran out of stones. She’d have to restock on stones if she was going to keep that pressure up. Hopefully, the kind has a few more—

Her world flipped as her ears rang. The explosion of heat and light sent her sprawling, before she hit the ground, slamming into the roots with her temple, and she went out like a light.

“There you are!” the artillerist growled, as he loomed over her. “You’ve given me a lot of trouble.”

“Brass! Brass is that you?”

“Over here, Spark,” The artillerist growled. “I found her.”

“Finally,” the mage, Spark said, before he joined the artillerist. “She did well, I will say. Her little distraction almost had us.”

“Almost had you, perhaps,” The artillerist, Brass, replied. “I managed to handle her quite well.”

Spark glared at him. “She left you alone. She very obviously discerned which of us was the greater threat and focused her attention on that threat.”

The artillerist glared at him. “Regardless, I think it’s best if we deal with her now.”

“For once, Brass, I agree,” the mage said before he drew the dagger at his side.

“No!” came a cry from the underbrush, before a colt, just on the edge of stallionhood rushed into the clearing. “You stay…” his voice faltered suddenly as he faced the two unicorns before he forced it to cry out “You stay away from her!”

Brass laughed. “And what are you going to do about, mudpony?”

Spark, meanwhile, had his eyes go wide before Maple answered with a storm. “Blizzaga!” he cried as a sudden ice storm tore through clearing, snuffing out the fires around them and knocking Brass off his hooves.

Spark barely held on, grabbing onto the dirt below him with his knife, unwittingly ducking into the calmer area of the spell.

As the icy wind subsided, Maple rushed forward, bucking at the mage wildly, before grabbing Wraith and pulling her away.

Spark reeled for a moment, before recovering, and cast a spell in return. A beam shot across the clearing, and struck the earth pony in the leg, going suddenly limp beneath him. Maple tumbled forward, landing hard as he released the unconscious body of Wraith.

“I knew there was a witch here,” Spark said, “but I would have hated to know that he was so young. It only makes the fact that you must be purged all the more tragic.”

“Fira!” Maple yelled as the pendant on his necklace exploded into flame.

Spark leaped to the side as the fireball shot past him, before another beam of paralyzing magic at Maple’s face.

“No, no more witchcraft out of you,” Spark said, panting as the spell stunned him. “No more. I will not have you cast your vile craft in my presence anymore. You two have tired me out, and I am done with you.”

Maple sat up, his head leaning listlessly to the side. “Fundagah!” he said, only for lightning to erupt out of another rune.

Lightning shot through the mage, and he yelled in agony as his entire being felt like it caught fire.

Pushing himself to his hooves once more, Maple pulled Wraith onto his back and ran deeper into the darkness.

Spark convulsed on the ground, writhing in pain, before Brass appeared, coming in from the bushes. “Spark, Spark, where is she?”

Spark didn’t answer him but weakly reached out with a hoof.

“Spark, tell me where she went!”

The mage reached out, and his mouth moved weakly.

“What?” Brass asked, getting closer.

Spark whispered again.

“What?” Brass said, getting closer again.

“You’re an idiot, Brass,” Spark said before his spell took effect.

Brass gasped, as he felt the effects, his strength faded, his energy sapped, and every ounce of strength passed from him.

“You are such an idiot, Brass,” Spark repeated as his wounds healed with the help of his vampiric touch. “Too much of one. You’re more of a liability than an asset at this rate. In fact, the best you have to offer me is whatever energy you have left.”

Brass gasped.

“Oh, trust me, you are far outmatched here, Brass. For a brief moment, I thought that runecasting needed a vocal component, and I nearly paid with my life. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Brass gasped again, before falling to his hooves.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Spark said. “Now if you excuse me, I have a witch to hunt.”

Maple limped into the underbrush of the Darkwood, though with the fires and the threat of dawn at his back, he would not call it dark for much longer. Running as fast as three legs could carry him, and hoping that his head would not snap off as it bounced wildly around his shoulders.

Wraith faded in and out of unconsciousness, asking panicked questions before falling back asleep. Maple hoped that it wasn’t a sign of long-lasting damage, but he wasn’t sure. More importantly, he hoped that he could lead the mages back into his protective ring of stones, where he placed enough traps to keep them both safe long enough for the plan to work.

His numb leg caught a root, and they both went sprawling.

Maple quietly cursed himself from his numb lips, and stood again, trying to steady himself and move when he was still down a leg.

Movement from behind caught his attention, and he glanced up at a small spectral bird that soared around him, before shooting back into the forest behind them.

That had to be the mage.

Pulling Wraith back onto his back, he ran again, forward toward his safe zone, trying to beat the mage behind him there.

A helix of magic shot above him, just clearing his back as he leaped into a sudden, shallow ravine.

“You’re not escaping me, Witch,” Spark said. “I am fresh, and ready. You’ve already spent too much casting your spells to keep up with me.”

“Well, that’s true for one of us at least,” Maple thought, looking at the still-unconscious body of Wraith.

Maple climbed up the other end of the ravine, eating up time as the mage continued to close the distance. “You’re not going to be able to win,” the mage said, haughty from his position. “Your sorcery will not save you!”

Maple was still going to try.

Wraith came back in. “Whu-what’s going on?”

“Weer bean’n cha’ed!” Maple said as he ducked behind a rock, before another spell shot above them, cleaving the top off a tree.

Wraith glanced back. “He’s still on us?”

“I donth know how,” Maple confirmed.

Wraith growled before she fired a beam of destruction back at him, fire crackling as it eagerly licked at the air.

A yelp of surprise sounded before the mage laughed. “So the real mage is awake now too? Then you’ll both have to die.”

A sudden burst of light from behind them and the pop of teleportation were the only warning the two had as the mage appeared in front of them suddenly. He roared as he brought down another spell, one that caused the ground under them to collapse.

Maple tried to leap out of the way, but his numbed leg could not get under him, and he and his charge both dropped into the pit below them.

He landed hard, and Wraith lay next to him, likewise winded.

“No magic can save you from me,” the mage said before his horn lit up, and the walls around them began to close in.

Wraith leaped into action, casting a spell that shot forward toward the mage, causing the walls to falter for a moment.

That was all she needed as she jumped up, between the walls, and climbed the hole, before slamming full body into the mage.

Maple heard the sound of the struggle from down in the pit, cries, and grunts of pain and exhaustion as beams of magic shot past the opening of the pit.

For a second, he lay at the bottom of the pit, until his consciousness suddenly screamed at him to get out there and help.

He rushed forward, trying to climb, with only one good back leg to push him. He grabbed and pulled, struggling to crest the pit when Wraith’s voice screamed in pain.

Maple redoubled his efforts, trying to climb faster. He pushed and pulled, and struggled.

“You dirty sympathizer. I doubt even re-education would save you,” Spark said.

Maple’s hoof dug deep into the earth at the lip of the pit.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a witch to kill.”

Maple pulled himself over the ledge.

And found himself staring into the eyes of the mage.

“Like I said, witch,” he panted, and pulled his dagger. “No magic can save you.”

Maple watched, as the world seemed to slow. The dagger, almost shining in the firelight and the dawn’s glow came up, above the mage’s head. He hung on the ledge, completely defenseless. He vaguely noticed a cut on his hoof, something he must have gotten while running. The rest of clearing is quiet, though the scars of the battle, the destroyed tree trunks and the crushed underbrush all remained. Maple could also barely see any movement in the clearing. Mostly, it was only the long, dagger-blade of the mage, and the galloping form of Wraith.

“No!”

The dagger bit deep, as it plunged into Wraith’s side, and both unicorns went sprawling sideways as she finished her tackle.

“Waith!” Maple cried, tongue still numb in his mouth as he finally clambered over the ledge.

Spark pushed Wraith off of him and drew his knife from her side. “Stop getting in my way!”

Maple barely realized that he was already running ahead, but he did know exactly what he was going to do. He began to trace the rune in the air and whispered the words under his breath before he collided with the mage.

Rune magic hinges on the transfer of energy. A rune needs and consumes the energy around it to power a spell. Many times, the energy comes in the form of the life of plants or small animals, all used to fuel the magic.

However, there is a rune that causes energy to flow the other way. This is what Maple traced into the mage’s fur using the blood on his hoof.

The effect was immediate.

The mage’s grip weakened, as Maple stood up, and he began to pant as he lay there. “Don’t—don’t think that’s—don’t think I…” he trailed off as he tried to raise his hooves.

The plants around him began to grow, the broken bushes filling with life, and the cut trees sprouting new branches. Meanwhile, the unicorn grew bags under his eyes, and his voice turned into a rasp. “I’m not...I’m not…”

The clearing began to flourish as the plant life was re-invigorated by the unicorn’s life. His cheeks turned sallow before they began to wrinkle, and his skin stretched over his face.

And that’s when Maple turned away, unable to look the mage in the eye as he was consumed.

Instead, his eyes went to Wraith, who lay still on the floor.

“Misth Waith?” he said, tongue still numb, as he came up beside her. “Misth Waith?”

“Hey, Kid,” she responded her voice a whisper.

“Are you going tah be awright?”

“No, Kid. The wound’s deep, and I’m bleeding too much. I’ve seen enough death to know…”

“I’m...I’m so sowwy.”

Wraith smirked. “Don’t be. You’ll be alright, and you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re more important right now, and I feel just fine about that.”

Chapter 45

Dawn peeked just over the horizon, barely clearing the hill the enemy camped on in front of them. Commander Hurricane set his jaw. The castra buzzed with activity as Legionnaires made their final preparations. Already the contubernia were forming into their eight-pony squads, small blocks that, when ready, moved out into the field.

The ranks began to form out there, forming centuries and cohorts in either long rows or large blocks of infantry. Currently, the Commander had the third and fourth cohorts on the left flank, while the fifth and sixth cohorts were on the right. These two thousand ponies were supposed to try and surround the approaching army. Meanwhile, the first and second cohorts, the most significant force of infantry, was to act as the fire below, cooking the trapped enemy between the two sides.

At least, that’s how this worked in the air. The Commander sighed and took a moment to again long for the day when he could fight in a three-dimensional battlefield. Having the freedom to dive-bomb the enemy, or come up from below, had proved to be a winning strategy more than once. Still, with the integration of unicorns and earth into the Legion, he felt limited. What’s more, he could use those pegasi to get the light behind them, making the enemy fight with the disadvantage instead.

Perhaps he could have the pegasi take wing and leave the others down below? It would certainly free up movement, but he was also told to present a “united front” by Puddinghead, whatever that meant…

He set the thought aside, it only served as a distraction now. With a heavy sigh as his last concession to the pony that could think these thoughts, he stepped forward as the pony that commanded the respect of every Legionnaire on the field.

Hurricane shot over the heavily armored ponies, flying directly to the front line where the sight of the enemy forces met him. Three thousand ponies stood opposite them, on a hill overlooking the woods behind them. While only half strength to his Legion, each one of the ponies in the enemy army was either a powerful mage or a heavily-armored Unicornian knight. Both were very dangerous and had managed to protect the borders of Unicornia for upwards of a few hundred years.

A highly-specialized, outnumbered, veteran force against his Legion of a handful of veterans, and farmers that wanted to protect their home. Of course, he could hardly tell with the morning light stabbing him in the eyes.

Hurricane chuckled. He’d worked with less before…

As he landed at the head of the first and second cohorts and turned to face the unicorn attendant he had picked for this moment. “Can you do it?”

“I’m ready, sir,” came the reply.

The Commander nodded before turning to his Legion, his voice amplified by a simple spell. “Legionnaires! On that hill stands an enemy we were destined to face!”

The soldiers all looked up to their leader.

"They stand there, bringing an army to bear because they cannot stand to see us rise while they wallow in the cold and darkness! They face us, for we are the only face they can bring their jealousy and hatred to. Everything they believe spits in the face of our way of life, and when we came together, we told them that we would not go quietly!

"They stand there now, glaring down at us from that hill, in some vain attempt to tell us we can’t. They say that we’re not allowed to stand together like this, to be free to do as we choose, unfettered by their old and bloated traditions.

“We will not stand for this!” The Commander yelled. “We will not be broken by the likes of those who could not bring themselves to see the light! We will not be chained to the darkness as they are! We will not let them rule over us, to choose our fates! No, we are free! We are free, and we will free forever, for no force can come against us!”

The Commander stood tall and proud before drawing his blade. “We are forever free!”

“Forever free!” came back the answer.

Hurricane turned toward the enemy and frowned. That was probably the worst speech he ever delivered.

Honestly, if this one was never remembered, he’d be perfectly fine with that.

The Baron and his bodyguard pushed deeper into the Darkwood Forest. They lost the mages somewhere behind them some three hours ago, and he had no idea if they were even alive anymore. This had all been a trap, and he’d fallen for it.

Somehow, the enemy knew he’d be coming from this direction, with this many ponies, with these specializations. The stench of the Tome was everywhere here, and he really should have guessed that the thief who took the book would have set this up.

But how he did it so fast still left the Baron’s head spinning.

The bodyguard moved carefully ahead, doing his best to creep quietly through the forest floor. He slowly cleared a path for the noble behind him, ensuring they could both creep closer as they slowly approached the target, the Castle of the Sky Sisters.

The better question was, the Baron wondered if the thief already knew about the castle? Did the thief know that he was trying to reach the castle so that he could reach the Tree during the Summer Solstice? Was there a trap there as well? Had he somehow killed the Tree to stop the plan? What other traps could this thief have set up?

An hour passed beneath them, and the bodyguard took careful paths in the twilight. A few brambles and ravines made travel agonizing through the forest, and the bodyguard took extra care as he carried the Baron over a small river. Still, they made good time. Time that Baron Jet spent wondering if his plan would work at all.

Could he still save Unicornia? Could he give Princess Gold the support she needed? Could he see the ambition of his parents come to fruition? Could he avenge all of those who fought for this cause?

“M’lord,” the bodyguard said, breaking him from his thoughts. Baron Jet glanced up before the bodyguard pointed with his hoof. A singular tower just broke the canopy, catching the sunlight of the late morning as it flashed at them through the leaves. Jet did not doubt for a moment that it was the donjon to the castle, the prize was within sight, at last.

“Good,” he said, his voice steeling itself as he pushed his doubts to the side. “We will make it there with plenty of time to spare.”

He would do anything he could.

The bodyguard and the Baron inched forward, doing their best to mask their presence. The latest trap could be just ahead of them, and they’d never know.

And then he found it.

“Trap” would have given what the mare was doing too much credit. No, this was a challenge. A single guard, dressed in brilliant armor, stood on a precipice. Behind her, a single suspension bridge, reaching over a ravine.

On the other side of the ravine stood the castle, and the path down to the Tree. It made it clear that his other option was to climb down the gorge, and cut across the bottom, and then climb back up the ravine, and finally try to get to the Tree.

The Baron frowned and silently cursed.

The thief must know that wasn’t an option. He must know that there was a time limit, that he could not risk wasting a moment. The declaration itself was apparent, either fight or waste time.

Now the long stretch of silence between here and the mage trap seemed obvious. It didn’t matter how he got here, this was the only way he could get to the castle in time. This was the proverbial chokepoint.

Still, the mare stood vigil over the bridge, reminiscent of the old tradition of the passage of arms. She almost cut the image of a proper knight, a fitting comparison, the Baron supposed, considering she represented the Kingdom of Equestria here.

More importantly, he had to get around her, and there was very little he could do save for rushing in.

“It seems we have no choice,” Jet whispered to himself.

“Shall I dispose of her?” the bodyguard asked.

“Do what you can.”

The bodyguard nodded and stepped forward into the clearing.

The guard glanced up. “He said you’d be here.”

The bodyguard said nothing.

“He told me you’d be quiet too,” Golden said with a smirk, as she drew her long-handled blade.

The bodyguard answered with his own earth-pony blade.

They stared each other down for a long moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

The bodyguard moved first. He slashed down with his blade, only for Golden to step to the side, before raising her own sword to his throat. She struck towards his neck, trying to end it quickly. Still, the bodyguard spun away, crossing blades again, before pushing forward, forcing Golden on the back foot. He pressed the advantage, forcing golden back a step, and closer to the ravine, trying to force her over the edge. Golden took a breath and steeled herself, before slamming her head forward, headbutting the bodyguard, and stepping out, leaving the ravine on her left side.

Swords flashed as they struck again, each blow rocking each other’s blades as they hit, or digging deep into the ground as dodged out of the way. The dance began in earnest then, each pony trying to force the other to the edge. Back and forth, back and forth, they switched and swung, trying to force the other to fall.

As the bodyguard’s blade thrust toward her, Golden twisted around and pressed the advantage as his attack left him open. She forced him back, attacking in quick succession, never letting up as she pushed him toward the trees. The bodyguard, hooves sliding to keep himself from tripping over the uneven terrain, lost ground quickly, try as he might to take back the tempo of the fight.

Forced back, the bodyguard kept falling further and further from the bridge, he nearly hit one of the trees. Then in a single move, the bodyguard parried a downward slash and pinned the guard’s blade against a tree with his own sword. Slamming against the weapons with his own body, he ensured that they were stuck fast, and not moving anywhere.

And that’s when the Baron made his move.

Golden gasped, eyes wide, as she watched Baron Jet make a break for the bridge. She tried to pull away, but the bodyguard held tight, keeping her pinned. Golden released her sword, rushing for the bridge as the Baron quickly crossed the ravine.

She rammed into the bridge’s supports. The bridge buckled under Jet’s hooves, and he hit the planks at the bottom of the bridge. She bucked into the supports again, trying to take the bridge out entirely, only for the bodyguard to slam into her.

She felt her hooves go out from under her, and she felt the earth crumble beneath her as they both went over the edge. She grabbed onto the lip of the ravine, scrambling as she held onto the very edge.

The bodyguard hung from her hind leg, holding onto her as they both hung over the edge, dangling just over the ravine.

She sighed as she hung there. “You know, if Mouse told me about this, I wouldn’t have minded.”

The bodyguard kicked the wall, forcing Golden to swing out into the air. Her tentative grip slipped for a moment before she grabbed it again. “Hey! Stop that! You’ll get us both killed that way!”

The bodyguard kicked again.

“Hey! Did you not hear me?” she asked. “If you do that, I could slip, and we’d both fall!”

He kicked again, swinging her even further out.

“Will you stop it!” she said before kicking him lightly in the face. “I’m trying to keep us alive!”

He bit her leg.

She yelped, before kicking him harder. “Do you want to die?” she asked before she tried to reach for a hoofhold to grab onto. “Peme give me strength.”

The earth pony kicked the wall again, and Golden felt her body swing up and out from the ledge.

“Do you have rocks for brains? I’m trying to save us!”

The bodyguard kicked again, and Golden felt her grip slip. She scrambled, trying to grab something before she slipped over the edge.

She screamed as she fell, the wind whipping past her as she tumbled over the edge. Branches from below slapped her as she passed, many already broken by the bodyguard who plunged beneath her. Rolling in the air, she glanced down, eyes wide, as the ravine floor shot up to meet her.

She slammed into another branch, growing from out the side of the rock wall, before finally bouncing as she hit the bodyguard, her only cushion between her and the ground. Her world went black as she went unconscious before she slowly came back around.

Her body ached, and after a quick check, she came to the conclusion that her left hind leg and her right foreleg might both be broken. She looked back at the pony she landed on and found him dead as a doornail. “Great, wonderful,” she muttered.

She rolled off of the bodyguard and tried to get on her two remaining hooves. “You know, Mouse, if you’d told me that I was going to break a couple of legs, I would have just cut the bridge.”

She limped along the bottom of the ravine, trying to find a way up that wouldn’t force her to climb. She took a few steps before sitting down, trying to make the walk in pieces. Taking a moment to rest as she sat at the bottom of the ravine, she turned back to face the castle, which towered over her from the ravine’s bottom.

A pair of lights, flashed from the tallest tower, before streaking across the sky, leaving the sound of thunder in their wake. Golden briefly wondered what those were, before she forced herself back up, to continue on her trek.

With how slowly she was making progress, she did test her legs. She carefully put pressure on both of them, only to find them painfully tender. Even if her legs weren’t broken, then she at least suffered a fracture, but at the very least, she needed to get out of the ravine before she could—

A thunderous noise erupted behind her, and she turned to face the castle.

The cave, the one that Mouse slipped into, the one he said had the Tree that Baron was looking for, spewed magic and fire from its mouth. Green, orange, and purple flames shot out of the cave like dragon’s breath, incinerating everything around it.

Golden stared, mouth open, as devastation tore across the ravine, and all she could do is hope that Mouse was still alive.

Chapter 46

The fighting was as thick as it was fierce. With most of the ground forces lacking the mobility he was used to, Hurricane found himself unable to move his soldiers effectively. Ponies were dropping by exhaustion and dying from spells while the Knight’s heavy charges pushed the Legionnaires back again and again.

Over the past five hours, the swelled and lulled, each side taking short breaks as they pushed forward the reserves to give the soldiers a minute to rest. Still, Commander Hurricane did not have a hopeful outlook. The Knights and their continuous charges had decimated his troops, the heavy infantry units trampling his Legionnaires every time they took the field.

He looked up from the unicorn he just finished dispatching, barely in time to see the Knights forming up for another charge.

It would take a miracle to survive this.

He raised his sword, bellowing out the order for a charge when two faint crashes of thunder rolled behind him.

“We are Forever Free!”

Baron Jet rand into the cave, panting as his bodyguard held off the guard behind him. He knew the earth pony would hold off the guard for as long as he could, but he’d have to be quick if he was going to find…

A pony was waiting for him. A unicorn, both hooded a cloaked, stood just in front of a massive, crystalline tree. Leaf-like bulbs hung from the branches, glowing softly in the darkness, and cutting the figure of the pony in front of the Baron in sharp contrast. He stood at the base of the trunk, staring straight at the cave entrance.

“Wait,” the Baron said. “I know you. You’re Ghost; you’re the assassin.”

The unicorn shook his head. “I am Mouse. I am no one important.”

“I don’t care what you call yourself,” the Baron said. “You’re the assassin I hired! I gave you all the money you needed! All I asked you to do was not to interfere!”

Mouse said nothing.

“What kind of assassin are you?” the Baron asked. “I asked you to bring this country down, and here you are, helping them!”

Mouse said nothing.

“Did they pay you more than I did? Is that it? Because if it’s a matter of money, I will triple what they’re paying you.”

Mouse shook his head. “They’re not paying me.”

“They’re not paying you?” he asked, scandalized. “You’re doing this for free? You’re just doing this because you want to?”

“I have to,” Mouse replied.

“Why? Because your precious little kingdom is so perfect? Because you all get to live in harmony? Do you have to stand here, against me, to be some kind of hero? This country is doomed! This ridiculous idea will never last. It needs the power of Unicornia to back it if it has any chance at all! You’re not going to make it without us! Your society is not going to make it!”

“No, I’m not a hero,” Mouse said. “I never will be. But you’re not here to help us, either.”

The Baron blinked for a moment.

“You’re not here to help Equestria. You want to, in your own way,” Mouse said. “You want to make Equestria the puppet state of Unicornia. You’re going to write Princess Gold as the founder that helped make Equestria, before having it turn its army to help her take the throne. You want to send Equestria and her soldiers to your war, before turning us into your servants.”

“You...you read the Tome, didn’t you?” The Baron said.

“I did,” Mouse said. “I know why you’re here. I even know why you’re really here.”

The Baron frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You hate Equestria,” Mouse said. “You want to send our soldiers to their death so that you can get your revenge.”

“Revenge? Revenge for what?”

“Your mother,” Mouse answered simply, “and your younger brother.”

“I have no brother,” Baron Jet scowled.

“Not one you ever met,” Mouse said. “No, twenty-three years ago, your mother and father, in an attempt to incite the Equestrians to join the Golden Revolutionaries, started a riot. They were arrested and thrown into the prisons beneath Canterlot. There, your mother gave birth to your younger brother, who had to be left behind when your parents escaped.”

“Alright, enough!” Baron Jet said. “You’ve made your point. I’m not here to be the hero either. But, if your country has any hope of surviving you are going to have to—”

“Twenty-three years ago, I was born in the Canterlot prisons, to a Baron and his wife, just a few weeks before they escaped to Unicornia,” Mouse said.

The Baron said nothing.

“You...you’re bluffing,” he said finally.

“It doesn’t matter if I am or not, does it?” Mouse asked. “Because I’m still standing here against you, and you’re still standing against me.”

“Then why tell me?” Jet asked. “Why tell me if it doesn’t matter?”

“Because I’m tired,” Mouse said. “I’m tired of killing, tired of stealing, tired of sneaking, tired of everything that I’ve been doing since I’ve left that prison. I’m tired, and I can at least hope that you’ll stop right now if I tell you.”

Mouse sighed, before drawing his knives, the sickle-like blades shining in the light of the tree. “Though we both know that’s not the case, is it?”

The Baron frowned, before pulling his own blade free of its scabbard. “No, no, it’s not.”

The two began to circle each other, and Mouse’s mind wandered back to the lessons that Demon ran him through all those months ago. “Remember your range, and be aware of theirs. Once you have something that works, make it work for you as many times as you can. Move toward the enemy’s back so that you can control the battle.”

The Baron definitely should have a greater range. The sword was longer than either of his knives, but Mouse already tried to wear the Baron out. With any luck, the Baron would not be able to extend his telekinetic range far enough to take the advantage. Mouse, meanwhile, was fresh. He could expend more energy on using his own telekinesis.

Keeping this in mind, Mouse took one more second to breathe before he struck.

He sent one of the knives flying across the cave, and the Baron parried it with a single, efficient action. Even as he slapped the knife to the side, he was already moving, closing the distance with a few loping strides, before swinging his own blade, which Mouse only barely caught with his other knife.

And so the dance began.

Baron Jet’s movements were quick and practiced. His years' worth of training shone through with every cut, parry, and riposte. His smooth footwork left little for Mouse to take capitalize on. Still, Mouse’s knives and his telekinetic range made a spinning wall of death that barely managed to keep the Baron at bay.

“Once you have something that works, make it work for you as many times as you can.” Mouse tried to find something that he could use, and already he had an idea forming in his head. As soon as he had something he could work with, he could begin to take control of the fight, even for just a minute, and that would be enough.

The Baron thrust his blade forward, and Mouse took his chance. As the sword shot forward, Mouse leaped back but kept his knives close to the sword. The beat, one that seemed to last for a minute to Mouse, stretched on before he made his move. One of the knives, with its magic-eating blade, shot around, cutting across the handle of the sword, and ate the magical grip, causing the weapon to fall.

The Baron’s composure broke for a second, as he scrambled for the blade, catching it before it hit the ground, but not before Mouse’s second knife slashed at the Baron’s neck. Jet just managed to save his life, the point of the knife grazing his fur, but Mouse already sent the message.

You cannot thrust at me.

The Baron growled and took the challenge. He brought his blade around before thrusting again. Mouse answered back, with cutting off the Baron’s magic, even as the Baron recovered, faster this time, and raising the blade to block the strike Mouse was going to make.

Except Mouse punched the Baron in the face instead.

As the Baron reeled, be backed up to make space between the two.

Mouse stood ready, his knives prepared to rip into the Baron, but for now, he had control of the fight, and that’s where Demon would want him to be. The Baron leveled his blade again, before he slowly leveled his sword, and charged once more.

The fight began again, the Baron trying new attacks and swings to try and seize back the control of the battle, frustrated that Mouse could take it so easily with the help of magical weapons. Mouse, meanwhile, tested these new strikes, prodding them for weaknesses he could exploit. He had something that worked, and he had to use it until it didn’t work anymore, and hopefully, the Baron would die before then.

However, it quickly became clear that the Baron was not going to let Mouse capitalize on this much longer. He kept his swings short and swift, changing his style entirely from the graceful motions to quick, stunted movements. The shorter moves meant that Jet could recover faster from any time that Mouse took his magic away. Still, it did give Mouse the edge he needed.

Now limited, the Baron was on equal footing, and Mouse could force the unicorn where he wanted. Though with his new strategy, the Baron was already starting to adapt.

Baron Jet rushed forward again, swinging for Mouse’s neck. The thief caught the blade in one of his daggers, while the other went to cut the baron’s magic free. As the knife flew forward, the baron dropped his hoof down onto it, pinning the dagger to the ground. Mouse had just enough time to blink, before the sword spun around the blade, and bit deep.

Mouse went spinning under the blow, the cut burning deep into his side as blood covered the roots of the great crystal tree. Honestly, that was probably the only reason he still breathed. He staggered a second before falling to the floor.

“It doesn’t matter,” the Baron said, worn out by the choppy movements Mouse forced him to follow, “if you’re my brother.” He exhaled in a long, exhausted breath. “It doesn’t matter, because you’re standing in my way.”

Mouse coughed.

Jet walked over to him before casting a quick spell. His horn rang with magic before his eyes flashed, and his gaze fell back on Mouse. “You have the book on you, don’t you?”

Mouse said nothing, before rolling the smaller stallion over, rubbing his wound in the dirt of the cave.

“You fool,” Jet said, pulling the Tome from Mouse’s magical bag. “Did you think you were going to be the hero in this story? That you were going to stop me from destroying your home?”

Mouse said nothing.

The baron stood before the tree and opened the book. The pages flipped open, moving as though a great wind blew through before it began to float on its own, sitting just before the tree.

“Hear me, Fate!” The Baron commanded as the ritual began its work. “Listen to my words!”

The five, colored gems in the tree’s branches, possibly some kind of fruit, began to glow and shine, before shafts of light shot out of them, all pointing straight toward the book.

“Obey me, Time, and submit yourself!”

The wind that flipped through the pages began to howl, whipping past the baron.

“I command that you are rewritten! I demand that your works be redone! Obey my wishes, and bend to my desires!”

The book shook as the Baron made his demands, and the pages flipped back, filling with words of the past when Princess Platinum was first born. “I wish for Princess Platinum to be erased from existence, instead give her fate to Princess Gold, that she might instead rule Equestria and take back the throne that was hers!”

Lightning struck from inside the cave, arcing off the walls as pure magical power thrummedagainst the walls. The Baron found himself squinting as the light around him became too bright to see through before a long, ghostly hoof appeared. It reached out, slowly, pointing down to the open page, ready to rewrite history itself.

“This world will obey my demands!” the Baron cried before a cutting edge plunged into his back.

He turned to see one of the crescent daggers plunged into his back, held there by the magical aura of the thief, who stood on his shaking legs, blood pouring out of his side. “No, I’m not the hero. I’m a footnote in history. I’m just an assassin that killed a nobody noble.”

The Baron blinked, before he fell to the ground, dead.

“Just like you said, Demon. Get behind them,” Mouse said, “it works every time…”

The Tome still floated before him, crackling with energy, and the spectral hoof waited for its orders.

He stood there, staring at it for a long second. All of history sat before him now, and at its forefront was his life. He could see the words that marked his birth and childhood in front of him, and, more importantly, the winds of fate itself were listening to him.

He could change it all right now if he wanted, he could finally have the simple life he wanted. He could finally just relax and leave this all behind. He could live as a noble, with his parents in Unicornia and never have to worry about any of this.

He stared at the arm for a second, before calling out. “Hear me, Fate. Listen to my words.”

Fate was listening.

Mouse could take it back. Honestly, he could.

He could leave this to some other poor schmuck, but if that pony was missing a nail, then the soldier would be lost, and then the battle, then the war.

Besides, did it matter now that he already won?

It wasn’t really a choice. He could go back and make all of this struggle null and void. He could let someone else deal with it, but now that he won, trying to change it now would only give whoever would take his place to have the chance to fail.

No, it really wasn’t a choice.

But honestly, right now, he didn’t care anymore.

“Keep everything as you wrote it; change nothing.”

The hoof retracted, and the book closed shut before the cave exploded in light.

“Forever Free! Forever Free!” the call went up.

The Unicornian Knights charged again, trampling the Legionnaires and scattering the others as they tried to get out of the way.

There was only one pony that stood in the way. Commander Hurricane himself, balancing on his hind legs as the Knights charged, his sword up in defense, screaming at the oncoming charge. He shouted, defying them to take him down, daring them to trample him.

And then a streak of white, golden light landed in front of him.

The knights went flying as Celestia landed in the middle of the battlefield. Luna landed beside her, and the pair glared out over the soldiers.

Not a single pony moved as the two goddesses stared them down.

Celestia glanced across the field, before turning back to Luna, who looked up at her with pleading eyes. The elder sighed before speaking aloud. “Let it now be known, I, Celestia, and my sister, Luna, shall now watch over the country of Equestria. There will be no further bloodshed today.”

Both forces looked at her, mouths agape before Celestia sighed again. “Go, Lulu,” she said. “Go chase after that guard you saw. I’ll take care of everypony else.”

Luna nodded before she shot back into the air, heading back to the ravine just outside of their Castle. When they left earlier, she swore she saw a pony; the guard Mouse had brought with him when he came to the castle a second time.

She crossed the forest beneath her quickly, before she found herself staring down the ravine. At the bottom, her keen eye picked out the form of Golden, slowly making her way toward the castle.

Luna landed beside her, and the guard looked up. “Luna, your holiness, please! I need you to take me to the Castle; Mouse might be in danger!”

The lunar princess wasted no time; she grabbed the wounded pony and took her to the cave. They entered, both of them, with Golden limping behind, only to find the Tree of Harmony standing alone. There was not a body, nor a bloodstain through the entire room.

“He came here?” Luna asked.

“He said he had to stop the Baron here, and he crossed the bridge before I managed to stop him. They should both be here,” Golden replied.

Luna searched the chamber, while Golden approached the tree. Luna checked the branches, the corners, the far walls, everything, but she could find no sign of Mouse anywhere.

“Nothing, I’ve found nothing.”

Golden sighed. “Then I guess we’ll just have to keep looking.”

Chapter 47

Golden, to her credit, did keep looking. Over the next few months of her recovery, she and Luna searched for any sign of Mouse, stretching from the Castle to the ravine and outward. For the most part, they found nothing other than the body of the Baron’s bodyguard, some bones of a few smaller animals, and a purple egg.

The egg, which Celestia identified as a dragon’s egg, had suffered a fall, and could only now hatch if someone siphoned enough magical power into it. Having little to do with Mouse, both Golden and Luna were more than a little annoyed when the solar sister then commented that the egg was perhaps the most valuable thing they’d find in the search.

Celestia insisted that the search was a waste of time, time that Luna could better spend in Canterlot. Celestia was quickly becoming an influential figure in Equestrian politics, and the Founders listened to her often. She soon found herself muddied in the world of mortals far more than she cared for, and considering that this was all Luna’s idea, it did not seem fair.

Finally, after three months, the pair called off their search. If Mouse was still alive by this point, he’d find his way to them. If he wasn't...it was too late.

Golden finally returned to Canterlot, and stood before Princess Platinum, to report her mission. She stood with the others, Storm, Cut, and Maple, before the Founders in the throne room. Platinum looked at them with a slight frown on her face. “Then he is gone, isn’t he?”

“For now, at least,” Golden replied. “Though we do stand here to tell you that the mission was a success.”

Platinum nodded. “And you shall be rewarded. Who would stand first?”

Storm stepped forward. “I would like to ask the crown that the Darkwood Company be awarded the funds for a statue. One to remember the last leader of the Company. His death was...sudden, and he was well-loved.”

Platinum nodded. “It shall be done.”

Maple stepped forward next. “Your Grace, one of our party, a unicorn by the name of Wraith, died to help us complete our task. She was cruel, and a murderer, but in her last days of helping us, she proved herself to be a true hero and friend. I would ask that she be buried alongside the heroes of old, that she might take her deserved place.”

The Princess waited a moment before agreeing. “It shall be done.”

Maple bowed and stepped back before Cut took his place. “To help your Majesty, I sacrificed many years of working in the criminal underworld to sabotage them. I ask that my work be continued, though I can no longer.”

“I will send agents; your work will continue,” she replied. “I will not have the work you have all done be turned against us by mere criminals.”

Cut nodded. “Thank you.”

Finally, Golden stepped forward.

“And what would you ask?” Platinum said, staring down at her.

“I…” Golden began. “I would like to retire. Start a farm.”

“Where?” Platinum asked.

“Anywhere,” she replied.

The princess nodded. “So be it, I shall grant you a parcel of land that can carry on in your family for generations.”

Golden nodded. “Thank you, Princess.”

She nodded. “I could only hope to reward you properly for the sacrifices you made. They were many and steep. These works offer little in return, but I hope they are sufficient.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

What remained of the year was quiet. Celestia and Luna were both officially invited into the Equestria political structure, the cities of Baltimare, Manehatten, and Vanhoover grew and expanded, and the Darkwood Forest was renamed to the Everfree forest in honor of the Battle of Everfree.

Fall and Winter came and went, leaving Spring once more to take the stage. As her breath left in misty clouds on an early spring day, Golden looked out over her new land, and the field she’d have to sow. Frost still clung to the freshly tilled earth, and the smell of yesterday’s rain still lingered in the air.

With a sigh, she stepped off of her new porch of the house Platinum insisted on building for her, and walked over to the barn. With a heave, she lifted the bag of seed that she needed to spread into a wheelbarrow and pushed it outside just in time to see a figure walking down the road next to her home.

The figure was a little on the short side, wearing a cloak that left him looking as grey and tattered as the sky. He wore his hood down to reveal a dark-coated unicorn, who looked wistfully at the farm.

Golden smiled, leaving her work for a moment before approaching the fence that marked her land. “Morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” the unicorn replied.

“Not many ponies come out this way, what are you doing out here?”

“Looking for work,” the stallion replied. “Good, honest work, and a place to lay my head at night.”

“Ya don’t say,” Golden said through a smile. “Why I might be able to help you with that, but it’s going to cost you.”

“What’s it going to cost?”

“A story, mostly about where you’ve been the last five months.”

Mouse gave her a small smile. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, come on inside and tell it, we have a little bit before the field needs to be sown.”

He nodded, before following Golden to the farmhouse, matching her step for step until he passed the threshold. As the burning hearth of the house began to warm his bones, Mouse removed his old, grey cloak, to reveal a cutie mark on his flanks.

It was a simple picture, only a slightly brighter grey than his coat, but visible nonetheless.

On his flank, there in front of all to see was a mouse and a nail.

“The results of hard work and dedication always look like luck. But you know you've earned every ounce of your success.”

The above story is a work of Fanfiction, using the characters and setting of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic as created by Lauren Faust and owned by Hasbro. I do not own the characters of the aforementioned property, and I am in no way benefiting financially from this work. Please support the official release.

Prologue

It is the thirtieth year of the Founding era, and I fear Equestria is already due to end.

If we die, and all we had built in the past thirty years is destroyed in the coming year, I can only hope we will be remembered for what we tried to do here. We tried to build peace between ponies, unicorn, pegasus and earth. We tried to build a nation where no one race held power over the other. We tried to throw off the the shackles of the Old World and free ourselves with harmony.

That very same Old World has always hated us. They wished to see us fail, and wished their hate to spread into our land. Many nobles have placed bets on the day of our failure, and if it falls in the coming days, then the irony of uniting these nobles with our failure will be all the more poignant.

Ever since Princess Platinum abdicated from the Unicornian throne, Puddinghead resigned from chancellorship, and Hurricane was court martialed in Pegasopolis, the Old World has conspired against us, and I have seen them succeed in my dreams. The nobles of my home country continue to squabble, the senators of Earthonia filibuster each other into oblivion, and the armies of the pegasus continue to muster until war is inevitable, all in the smoking ruins of the home we made for ourselves.

These are the images that plague my dreams at night. The nightmares of the future that I know is coming.

But not all my dreams.

There is one dream, and it all begins with a pony that holds the power to either save or destroy us. In him, I see our hope, our freedom, and any chance we have to bring all of ponykind together.

A pony I dare not seek out.

For the day I meet him, I die.

My name is Clover the Clever, and this is the day I die.

Chapter 20

“We have another job for you, Ghost,” Oracle said.

Ghost was eager to answer. It had been four new jobs since he fought the Runecaster, and four new ponies that he eagerly sent screaming to the Void. One had been a farmer that cheated his neighbor of some land. One was a small-time murderer that was forcing his way into the “family’s” business. Another was a guard that he had taken particular pleasure in, and the last was a actress who was so desperate for the part of Princess Platinum during the Hearth’s Warming celebration not six days ago, that she stepped over a few of her peers enough to get one angry.

Terrible accident that was.

He had been doing well, and he was honestly proud of what he did. The murders had been either elaborate traps or expertly performed assassinations, if he did say so himself. He hadn’t been found, he hadn’t been caught, no one had even suspected him of being a killer.

It was so much easier than being a thief, and all it took was for him to finally give up, and turn his back on the world that he once wanted to be a part of.

“What’s the job?” Ghost asked, stepping into the office of the madpony that was his boss. Oracle sat at his desk, the Tome of Faust open on his desk.

“Another fool fated for death,” Oracle said, as he read through the Tome. “You must head to Baltimare. A fool has awoken the anger of another, and she wishes him dead. Any more information you must learn from her.”

Ghost blinked. “What?”

“You will meet your contact at th—”

“I’m speaking with a client?” Ghost asked. “I’ve never spoke to a client before. What are you getting at that I need to talk to her?”

Oracle looked up from his Tome, and spoke again. “You’ll meet her at the Fox’s Heart Inn. She will inform you of your job.”

“What are you getting at, Oracle?” Ghost asked. “This isn’t normal, and you know it. What’s the deal?”

Oracle simply stared at him and said only. “It is necessary for your destiny.”

Ghost gave him a deadpan glare before he sighed. “Sure. Whatever. I guess I’ll be off then.”

Oracle nodded. “You will do well, but for that, you will suffer.”

Ghost spared the old pony a glance. “Sure. Whatever you say, Oracle. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“She will ask you if you are there to help her,” Oracle said, “you are to reply that you will help in some way.”

“Got it,” Ghost said, before he stepped away, heading for the Shadowgates.

The Fox’s Heart Inn was exactly like he remembered it, and Ghost quickly took his usual seat outside. As he sipped his tea and watched the ponies walked across the street. He had to say that despite having to meet a client for the first time, she certainly had excellent taste in inns.

He sipped and waited, missing the joy of watching the guards rush back and forth as they tried to catch a thief that had them so thoroughly embarrassed.

Ghost smiled at the thought of maybe bringing his crime streak back for a single night, when a mare approached him. “Sir...sir are you here to help me?”

Ghost turned to look her in the eye, and quickly took her in. A unicorn in her young thirties, with a pale blue coat, stared at him with seafoam green eyes. She was nervous, and had trouble looking him in the eye, but so had he when he first met professional killers.

“I can help in some way,” he replied, motioning to the chair on the other side of the table.

She sat, nervously glancing toward him, before checking around the street that was getting busier as the morning waned. When she spoke, she leaned forward, trying to get as close as possible so that he could hear her whispers.

“I didn't want it to come to this. I tried to solve it another way. I didn't want to hire you.”

Ghost smirked slightly. “Ma’am, if you're trying to save your reputation, I can guarantee you that, I, of all ponies, don't care. None of your friends will hear about this, you’ll still be a mare of good standing. So instead of making excuses for me, why don't you just tell me what I need to do, hm?”

She winced, as though the comment about her reputation stung her, before she whispered again. “He...he beats his foals. He drinks, wanders home, and beats them at night. It got to the point where we...we’re the neighbors, you see, and we hear them every night. We tried to do something but—”

“And now you want me to kill him for beating his foals?” Ghost asked.

“Y-yes…” the unicorn muttered. “Please…”

Ghost looked her over again. “While that's a perfectly justified reason to hire me, that seems a bit much. After all, wouldn't it hurt the foals worse, not having a father to raise them?”

“Don’t worry about the foals,” she said. “I’ll take care of them.”

Ghost shrugged. “Alright, sure, it’s not my problem anyway. Where is he?”

“He lives off of Dogwood Road, closer to the mountain. Past the house with the green door. The one with the blue shutters.”

Ghost nodded. “Alright, I’ll take care of it. You can go now.”

The mare quickly ducked away, perhaps relieved to simply step away from an unrepentant assassin.

And Ghost merely sat there, and sipped his tea, enjoying the serenity and warmth of the mild, eastern winter. As the sea brought in a warm breeze that tousled his mane, and the smell of salt to his nose, he took just a moment to relax.

He almost missed this place.

“Mouse?” a voice called, and he opened sa single eye to see Officer Golden Shield, the earth pony guard that he had teamed up with to stop Sap.

“Officer Shield,” Ghost greeted. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” she asked, guarded, but not nearly as hostile as she had during their previous conversations. “What brings you back in town?”

Ghost glanced at her, gauging the mare dressed in golden armor. She was somewhere between cautious and...glad? Ghost wasn’t sure, but there was something about her that made it seem that she was almost happy to see him. “Some business, and not the kind you think. I found some new employment recently.”

“Did you?” she asked, surprised. “And how am I to trust that?” she asked, a smile of all things growing on her lips.

It was...kind of unnerving.

“I don't know why you would,” he asked, unconsciously pushing himself away ever-so-slightly.

“Oh, relax. As long as you're not here to do anything that I need to arrest you for, we’re fine.”

“Shame I’m going to ruin that, huh?” Ghost thought, before glancing back up at the guard. “So what made us even?”

“Well, the guy you turned over was a Blackglass addict, and after a few weeks of withdrawal, he gave up the rest of your little thief’s cell for the promise of a shard. The bust was so big, I made sergeant.”

“Really?” Ghost asked, feigning interest. “Well, congratulations, Sergeant Shield.”

She nodded back, pleased, before continuing. “This is only the start, of course, but I was finally able to get my hoof in the door with your help.”

“Are you thanking me, Officer?” Ghost said, sipping his tea. “Me, a common thief?”

“Well, a thief no longer, I hope,” she answered.

Ghost simply nodded.

Yes, he was no longer a common thief.

He was a bringer of death.

The house with the blue shuttered on Dogwood Road was quiet. Candlelight didn’t flicker in the windows, and sound could not be heard from behind the simple brick walls.

The house itself stood beside a large, empty field, farmland owned by the earth pony family that a pony named Mouse once stole the Book of Ancestors from. A farm-worker’s house, obviously, as was the house with the green door, where his client watched from the window.

She couldn’t see Ghost, though. He was better than that.

From the alley just on the other side of the empty field, Ghost watched, slowly piecing together a picture of what exactly was happening. The mother was dead, that much was obvious. If she was still alive, then his client wouldn’t have said anything about what happened to the foals.

So it was just the father, who was apparently holding down a farm worker’s job for Bay Leaf’s farm. Now, working for an earth pony farmer wasn’t a bad job, it was hard, but honest work, if you could stand it, so why beat your own foals?

There was something else that was the matter here.

The sound of off-key singing from down the street caught Ghost’s ear, and he glanced down the way to see a tired pegasus careen through the air as he tried to fly down the street, bottle in hoof. He nearly crashed into a wall as he sang a slurred mess of notes and words that the assassin couldn’t identify.

The pegasus slowly corrected, getting well out of the way of the wall only after coming fractions of an inch within smashing into it. “Sardin’ wallsh!” The pegasus muttered. “Wash where yer goin’...”

Well the pegasus was well and truly drunk, that much was certain. He finally was making way back to the house, mumbling all the way, before finally he smacked into the door. He fumbled for his keys a while, muttering something about the demon foal, before he finally slammed his door open.

As the door shut, the client, who had been watching from the window finally disappeared behind her curtains.

And now Ghost could move. He rushed across the street like a shadow of a cloud passing in front of the moon. He slid up next to the wall of the blue-shuttered house, and slid up next to the window. He was looking into the main room, where the drunk pegasus was violently throwing furniture aside, searching for something.

“Where arr ya?” the pegasus yelled, just audible through the glass that Ghost watched through.

“You damned foal...where arr yoush?”

The pegasus smashed through his furniture, throwing aside pots, pans, barrels and chests to search every corner of the bottom floor. “Deshtined to ruin me. To deshtroy us all…”

Ghost blinked at what he heard, but said nothing, before the pegasus took off, leaping into the air and slamming into the ceiling, before bashing into a wall. With his room now well and truly in tatters, the pegasus began to climb up to the second floor, using both hooves and wings to carry himself.

As he disappeared upstairs, Ghost made his move. Slipping the latch open with one of his blades, Ghost quietly opened the window, and dropped down onto the packed dirt floor of the main room.

The whole place stank of beer and mead, and now that he was inside, he could hear the fumbling of the drunkard all the better. “Where ar ya, ya little piesh of manure? Ya shardin’ demon? Yer gonna deshtroy us all, ya know dat?”

Ghost moved forward quietly, up toward stairs, knives drawn and ready to spill blood.

“Shtygian?” the drunkard called in a blatantly deceptive, sing-song voice. “Shtygian, where ar ya, boy? Do ya want ta go fishin’? I’ll take ya down to the shore and we’ll go catsh the biggest fish ya evah shaw…”

Ghost slipped up the stairs, and found the drunkard throwing everything he could find aside to search for his foals.

A door on the far side, open to a small room, revealed a single bed with a pair of foals underneath the frame, hiding from the deranged father.

One was a young filly, no older than five, while the other was a colt only a few years older. She was a pegasus, with a coat like a storm cloud, and mane the color of snow. The colt, on the other hand, was a unicorn with a deep blue-green mane,but a coat just as dark as his sister’s.

The little filly saw the shadow on the stairs, and she gasped at the sight of the assassin.

Unfortunately, it was the father that heard her. “Eh? Ish that you, Shtygian?”

The colt shrunk back, further under the bed as the drunk stallion got closer. Frozen by fear, the filly did nothing as the father reached under the bed and pulled her out. “Rainy? There yoush ar...where’sh yer brother?”

She didn’t anything.

“Ya know where he ish, Rainy?” he asked, as he held the filly up.

She was too terrified to say anything.

“Ya know wha tha oracle shaid about him...ya know he’sh gonna kill ush all. It’sh hish deshtiny...we hash to kill him, before he killsh ush. Itsh tha only way...Ya know that.”

The filly whimpered.

“Where ish he, Rainy? Where’sh tha little Demon foal?”

She shook her head.

The drunk growled, before he threw the small pony across the room, where she hit the wall with a heavy smack.

Ghost watched, images of a smaller, thinner unicorn colt being beaten by angry inmates flashing through his eyes as he watched the filly slid to the floor.

“Why ‘re ya proec’in’ him? What’sh he done? Hash he paid ya ta be quiet ya sharding horn-hugger!” he roared, kicking the tiny, foal.

Ghost nearly moved, nearly leaping up the stairs to end his target and stop the filly’s beating when the pegasus grabbed a sword from off the wall.

Demon would tell him to stop. Fighting an armed opponent was different than kill a shiftless drunk, no matter how incapacitated he was. Ghost could fight, but it would be dangerous, and he did not have the experience to take such a fight head on.

He had to wait for his opportune moment. He had to.

This wasn’t like the last fight where all he had to do was close the distance, the pegasus probably had military experience, almost all of them did, and who knows how good of a fighter he is.

One of his hooves started to shake.

Taking the sheathed blade in one hoof, the stallion brought it down on the child, straight into her side. The covered sword hit like a club, and Ghost could swear he heard a bone snap.

“Where ish he, Rainy? I gotshta do it. I gotshta kill ‘im.”

The filly merely rolled onto her side, clutching her ribs.

The stallion brought his weapon down again, slamming into her legs. “Where’sh Shtygian?”

Ghost had to wait. He had to wait. He had to wait.

The tiniest peep came from the bed, and the old pegasus’ head jerked in that direction. “Shtygian...Shtygian ish that you, boy?”

Ghost felt sick.

“Com’on, boy,” the drunkard heaved. “Yer Shishter’sh only gonna take sho much fer ya. Ya might ash well come out now.”

Out from the bed, the tiny colt slowly stepped out into the room, and the father immediately grabbed him by the throat.

Ghost had to wait.

“Shtygian...I don’t want ta do thish...but I’s gotshta…” The pegasus slurred as he held the pony up against the wall with one hoof while he held his sword with the other.

The sheath slid to the floor, falling to the floor, and letting the blade shine in the candlelight behind him.

“Ish jusht tha way ish gotshta be, Shtygian…” the pegasus growled, before raising the blade up to the terrified colt that was struggling to breath.

There was a flash of steel, and the whistle of a blade through air, and then everything stopped.

The pegasus dropped the colt, who hit the floor with a thud, and then, he too, fell to the floor, his naked sword as clean as untouched snow. Ghost stood over them all, his knife wet with blood as he gasped for a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He checked the filly first. She was breathing still, but just barely, the colt was gasping for breath, unconscious from the suffocation.

They were alive.

Thank Luna, both of them were alive.

Why did he care?

The question had been burning in the back of his head since he moved. Why did he care so much about a couple of foals? Why did he rush in to save them? Why?

There was one answer. They reminded him of himself, but so what? Every pony that has ever been in a jail reminded him of himself. That didn’t mean anything! They were were just like the rest of them, they hated him for things he couldn’t control, he knew they would.

Still he collected them, carefully laying the colt on his back and picking the fully up in his arm. With both foals on him, he quickly made his way out of the house, leaving the drunkard to rot where he lay.

Down to the main room and out the door, to the house with the green door where his client lived. He knocked on the door, and once the mare opened the door, Ghost forced his way in, much to the mare’s surprise. “Wh-what are you—?” she began only for Ghost to interrupt her.

“You said you’d care for the foals. Here they are, care for them,” he growled, and shoved the colt toward her.

She glanced down at the colt, who’s throat was beginning to darken through his fur. “Oh...oh, my. C-come in, upstairs.”

The client led the way, up the stairs, where she quickly cleared off a bed. Ghost laid the pair down, watching as the mare quickly looked them over. “What do I do?” she asked.

Ghost shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m no healer.”

“Then what do we do?” the mare asked.

Ghost shook his head. “G-get help. I’ll watch them.”

She nodded, before she started to run out of the house, leaving the assassin alone with the pair of foals.

He should go. He didn’t need to be found by anyone that wasn’t his client. They’d suspect him in the recent murder of the neighbor by the sheer fact that he found the foals if nothing else. He didn’t know how to take care of foals anyway, and he didn’t know what to do about their injuries either. There was no point staying.

Ghost pulled up a chair.

He would be caught and thrown into prison. There was no way he’d get out of this without somepony knowing what he done. There was nothing that could save him from this. Why did it even matter if he watched the colts? If they were going to die between now and when help came, there was nothing he could do to save them. All it would do is get him.

The Baltimare jail was easy to get out of anyway.

He watched the pair as they breathed, as they rested. The filly’s breathing was incredibly slow, much slower than the brother, who was beginning to stir.

The colt sat up, coughing as he reached up to his throat. He whimpered, wincing at the pain, before he looked around. His dark blue eyes glanced around the room, before they slowly fell onto Ghost.

Ghost stared back.

Silence floated between the two, and finally, the Colt spoke first. “Did you save us?”

Ghost nodded.

“A-and Daddy?”

“Dead,” Ghost said.

“And you killed him?”

Ghost didn't answer that.

The Colt waited a moment before turning away to his sister. He gingerly ran a hoof along her ribs, and watched her since at the touch. “He hurt her too,” he muttered.

Ghost watched.

The colt looked back at him. “Are...are you a good pony or a bad pony?”

Ghost smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“Because good ponies fight bad ponies, and Daddy was a good pony sometimes, and a bad pony sometimes. So, I don't know which one you are.”

Ghost shook his head. “Neither do I.”

“So...are you going to hurt me too?” The colt asked.

Ghost gave the pony a look. “Why would I hurt you?”

“Because the Oracle said I would try to throw the world into shadow. I’m going to hurt ponies.”

Ghost looked at this little pony, staring up at him with big, sad, blue eyes. This pathetic little colt would doom the world? That’s what his future read? This colt didn't look like he’d hurt a fly.

Ghost shook his head. “No you won't.”

The colt looked up at him confused.

“Do you know what Destiny is, colt? Destiny is luck and it's where you were born. Ask any thief worth his salt and he’ll swear up and down that luck is the most important thing to their job. Of course, those same thieves are constantly making their own luck.

“You can't tell me I didn't choose to save your life. That's making my own luck. The only thing that I can say is destiny, the only thing that I didn't choose was where I was born. Everything that's wrong in my life is because I was born in a jail cell. If I hadn't, I would have an honest job by now.

“Now, you were born to be a jerk. You didn't choose that, that's Seyella deciding to screw you like she did me. Beyond that, the only thing you can do is make your own luck.”

Any further conversation was cut off by the sound of a pony in armor coming through the front door and up the stairs. Golden Shield stepped into the room, and for a brief moment, she sent a look Ghost’s way.

Then she turned to the foals. “Are you okay?” She asked.

The colt nodded. “He saved us,” he declared, pointing at Ghost in the corner.

Golden Shield shot Ghost another glare, but kept her focus on the foals. The colt was cleared with a few bruises, but he was otherwise alright.

The filly on the other hoof was in dangerous condition. After only a quick glance, the partially-trained Golden Shield could already tell that her ribs were broken.

“I’ll call for a doctor,” she said, before finally turning to Ghost. “You're coming with me.”

Ghost slowly stood, and together they moved outside. They walked slowly, with Golden Shield giving him a sidelong glance.

Ghost said nothing, he only stared back at her.

Finally, she spoke up. “You saved the kids?”

“I did,” he answered.

“You killed the father,” she said, her voice almost accusing.

“I did.”

There was a moment of silence. With only the sound of a few night birds and the distant crash of the waves.

She sighed in annoyance. “And here I thought you changed.”

Ghost said nothing.

“Just...just leave, I never saw you tonight,” she muttered.

Ghost looked at her for a moment, before he stepped away, leaving the mare as she began searching for a local doctor.

Under normal circumstances, he might have taunted the guard one last time, or celebrated the freedom he was being given. Instead, he was preoccupied. He was busy running through the little speech he gave to the foal, analyzing every word he said. Because the truth was, no matter what he said to that little colt, he knew that Fate had a bigger hand in his life.

And she was a cruel mistress.

Did he choose to save the foal’s life? Or was that simply what he thought he did? Was he destined to save that foal? Was he always going to save that foal? Was that why Oracle had said it was his destiny?

Is that why he could never get an honest job, because he had to save the foal that would destroy the world? Was this it? Was Seyella going to end the world through his destiny, and he was a pawn in her great scheme?

Was that how he was fated to die? Was this how the world was going to end? Did he doom everyone with a single strike?

Ghost tired to shake these thoughts. He tried to force them from his mind.

But they haunted him long into the night.

Chapter 31

“Thank you, Mouse, for the company you gave me,” Luna said as she stood at the threshold of the castle gate.

“It was my pleasure, my lady,” he answered, dressed in his cloak, and his bag fully packed. “I pray your journey back to void will be pleasant.”

“It won’t be,” Luna said, before whispering to him. “Between you and me, I don’t want to leave.”

“But it’s what you should do, right?” Mouse grunted.

“Hush, child. You’ve had enough of that talk for one day.”

He sighed. “You’re right, of course, still this whole thing stinks.”

“I’m sure it does,” she answered with an amused smile. “My blessing goes with you, Mouse, use it wisely.”

Mouse nodded, and took a step across the moat before he paused. “Speaking of the Lady of Fate, what’s happening to her?”

“She’s going ahead of us,” Luna said. “She’s clearing the way back, out to the West, where we shall leave.”

Mouse frowned. “I still think that you leaving is a bad idea.”

“Perhaps, Mouse. Perhaps…” Luna said, glancing up at the sky. “Best of luck, Mouse.”

“Best of luck to you,” he answered.

He took a few more steps across the moat before Luna called to him. “Head east, it’s the fastest way out of the Forest.”

Mouse nodded.

“Many thanks, my Lady.”

She watched him go, silently staring out of the castle gate, before she retreated back into the tall, grey stone walls.

The trip out of the Dark Wood was much faster than the trip in. Within six hours, he was already out, staring at a great, almost idyllic field, with a slow, lazy river running through it. A few lone trees stood in the field, even a young oak that caught Mouse's eye. It'd be nice to shelter under if it were later in the evening.

Moving forward, he meandered through the yet untapped countryside and mentally bemoaned the fact a place this pretty would be so close to the Wood.

It'd take a mad pony to settle here.

By the time he crossed the river, the sun was finally beginning to set, and he began looking for a place to camp in earnest.

He scanned the horizon, checking for a good place to camp before he looked up to check the weather.

He saw a pegasus.

The one that was hunting him.

“Not again,” he growled, before he turned to run.

He galloped across the field, running away from the river as it'd only slow him down. He looked back for a second, checking to see if it'd shoot him down.

The pegasus didn't even have his bow out.

That was all he needed to see.

Turning back ahead he doubled down on his sprint. The pegasus would have to slow to ready his bow and arrow, and that's be more than enough for him to get away.

If the pegasus wanted to catch up and get into melee, well, Mouse would certainly oblige.

“Hang on!” the pegasus yelled from behind.

“Not likely,” Mouse thought with a smirk.

“Sarding stop!” the pegasus yelled again as Mouse redoubled his efforts, hooves pounding across the field.

Mouse looked up again, watching the pegasus as he began to climb. He moved higher, putting distance between them, and Mouse wasn’t sure why. What he did know was that this was the best time to hide. He snapped his head around, looking for cover, some copse of trees to duck under, an overhang, anything to force the pegasus to the ground to continue. Nothing caught his eye, though, all of the good trees were back in the Dark Wood, and the field offered very little in terms of rocky overhangs.

The pegasus streaked down like a comet, diving in front of him, pulling up to land only inches from the ground as he slid to halt in front of the unicorn.

Mouse slid in the grass, stopping himself even as he drew his knives.

“Easy, buddy, easy!” the pegasus said. “Just want to talk this time.”

“A little late for that, isn’t?” Mouse growled, daggers leveled.

“Look, Brutus hogs the contracts, he doesn’t let anypony else touch them, he didn’t realize they wanted you alive and undamaged, and we nearly lost all our cash from trying.”

“Right, and I’m Princess Silver.”

“Look, I know trying to kill you isn’t the best introduction, but we just need you to come with us to Canterlot. After that, we won’t accept any jobs to come after you again, you’ll be free from us, full stop.”

Mouse shrugged. “I’m used to running at this point.”

“Look, we’ll pay you, alright? No strings attached, no hard feelings, we go our separate ways.”

Mouse glared. “How much?”

“We’re prepared to give you four hundred now, and another four hundred when we get there.”

Mouse glared, before he lowered one knife. “Who sent you?”

“A guard. Don’t know her name. She said she wanted you, didn’t say why. Course, if she wanted you arrested, she’d just send guards so I don’t think it’s to throw you jail.”

Mouse frowned. “That doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“Look, I get it, but this is all just one nearly-fatal mistake. We’re trying to make it up to you, so all we want to do is get you there, and save our reputations.”

Mouse glared a moment longer, before he slid his daggers into his bag. “Alright, I’ll come, on one condition.”

“What?”

“I want my pay to come out of Brutus’ share first.”

The pegasus blinked, and smiled. “We can arrange that, trust me.”

The trip to Canterlot was short, and Mouse found himself in the city in very little time. Despite how little time it took, Mouse felt exhausted by the end of it. He barely slept as they traveled, in case the hunters had laid the strangest, yet laziest trap he had seen. To that point he had barely spoken a word to his “captors,” either and very obviously meant to keep it that way, though he did learn a little about the three ponies, not that he cared much.

Brutus was the earth pony with the greatsword, and though he did scowl at Mouse from across the camp, he said nothing, which served Mouse just fine. The unicorn, Galeflame, had tried once or twice to speak, but when Mouse didn’t answer after the third time, he gave up. Hunter, the pegasus, quickly realized that it would be useless to talk, and left him alone.

Overall Mouse was pleased to see that he got his message across. The three kept to themselves, and he kept to himself, and everyone was happier for it.

Canterlot was much as he remembered it, nestled at the foot of the mountain, growing outward thanks to a steady stream of immigrants, all trying to make their name in the new country of Equestria.

As the trio escorted him into the city proper, the familiar sight of buildings built of fresh cut wood, and noble houses pretending to be grander than they are watched him pass silently by. It was oddly familiar, and strangely comforting to Mouse, for reasons he didn't quite understand.

He moved after his captors, smiling as he saw Opal's Emporium, the Keystone Inn, and the newly built Tavern that replaced Ole’ Punch's place. He needed to visit it on the way out.

Meanwhile, the three hunters led Mouse up to the castle, where the guards let them pass with only a few questions. The castle stood, again much as he remembered, with only the fact that the courtyard was full of guard being the only difference between them.

“I see they’re finally tightening security,” Mouse grunted, speaking his first words to Galefire since they met. “It only took what? A murder right under their noses?”

The unicorn blinked, surprised that Mouse was actually talking to him before he answered. “Uh...well, in a manner of speaking. Hurricane dismantled the Canterlot guard fairly quickly, replaced almost everyone in it for some reason. The guard has been replaced with more military ponies or out-of-towners, I grant you, but the activity is not related to that.”

Mouse gave him a glance.

“Now, I don’t know if this is true or not, but I have heard that it’s actually because there’s been a few attacks on the castle.”

“By who?”

“I’ve heard it was the Horn.”

“The Horn?”

Galefire looked from side to side, checking for anyone who might hear. “The Horn of the Mystic Oath, Goldies, Unicornia old money, all kinds of supremacists. All nutjobs.”

The image of the five-pointed star flashed in his head.

“I see,” Mouse said, before he went quiet.

The entourage led him down the hallways, past thick, heavy doors, before he finally came to the office of the last captain of the guard, Golden Spear. One of the guards knocked on the door, and called out. “Ma’am? The hunters are back!”

The door opened, and Mouse immediately burst into laughter as he saw Golden Shield standing there.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” she said with a sigh, before turning to the hunters. “Go get your pay, leave him with me.”

Mouse laughed again, even as Golden Shield dragged him into her office. He laughed again as she closed the door and sat him in a chair, and he still laughed as she took her own seat on the opposite side of the desk.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed again.

“Are you done?” she asked.

“Nearly,” Mouse answered.

“Well, I’m glad you find this so humorous.”

“I’m supposed to think otherwise? You’ve called me for Luna knows what reason, and expect me to what? Why am I even here? Congratulations on the promotion, by the way.”

“It’s not a promotion, I’ve been reassigned until the issue with the Canterlot Guard is taken care of,” she told him. “Don’t change the topic, this is important.”

“Of course it is.”

“It is,” she insisted. “A number of maniacs have tried killing the Princess.”

“Again? Oh no, how terrible. You’ll actually have to do your job.”

“Mouse, I swear.”

“Look, Golden,” Mouse said, “I appreciate that you decided to call me for whatever job you had, but I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time doing somepony else’s work, I’m done with it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done. No more favors, no more jobs. I’m retired.”

She sighed, “It’s not that simple, Mouse. This is more serious than a simple chore.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Well you should, Mouse. Equestria is a stake.”

“Little melodramatic, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not, and that’s the problem,” she said. “The Founders themselves are asking for this job, and it’s as serious as they come. I need you to understand that, Mouse, they think it’s that important.”

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Great, and why should I care?”

“Because it’ll destroy Equestria.”

“And what has Equestria done for me?” he growled. “I tried to play by Equestria’s rules, and in return, I was thrown to the wolves. So why should I care?”

“Because it’s still better there than anywhere else!” she said. “Earthonia’s corrupt, Unicornia’s up its own arse for nobility, and Pegasopolis is under complete Martial Law! Equestria’s the best chance for ponykind.”

“And I don’t care,” Mouse said. “If you care that much, you can get someone else to do it.”

“I could, but I called you, because you’re the best thief I know, Celestia damn you.”

“She wishes she could,” Mouse replied.

She glared at him. “Mouse, we’re willing to pay you.”

“Don’t want your money.”

“Land?”

“No.”

“A title?”

“What good will that do me?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to be left alone.”

“We need you!”

“Find someone else.”

“There is no one else! You’re it.”

“Too bad!” he yelled back. “I’m not going, I’m not jumping through hoops, I’m done being led around like a dog. I am not the universe’s pack mule! I never asked to be the one that fate itself depends on, and I’m not going whatever stupid quest you have.”

“The one Fate itself depends on?” Golden asked. “And you said I was overdramatic.”

“I said you were melodramatic,” Mouse corrected.

She sighed. “Fine. I don’t know why I bothered. Just go.”

“Gladly.”

“No, wait, I will escort you out, because are a dirty thief.”

Mouse snorted. “Sure, fine.”

Mouse slid out of his chair, and went quietly as Golden Shield led him out of the castle.

Mouse grunted, annoyed that he’d been pulled here for this, when they came across an intersection, and the clank of armor could be heard approaching him. Golden Shield slowed, yielding the right of way as a trio of ponies walked by, A heavily armored pegasus stallion, an earth pony with a large, ornate hat, and her…

It was the Princess, in her perfectly white coat, and her platinum mane, walking past him, so close he could reach out and touch her. He caught a gasp in his throat, and realized a second too late that she heard it. Her amethyst eyes fell on him in a moment, and he never felt so exposed in all his life.

“It’s you,” she said simply, and Mouse cursed the fact that she recognized him, because of course she did. She stepped closer, as the other founders paused. “You’re still alive,” she said, in more of a statement of fact than a question.

Mouse didn’t answer her. His tongue felt swollen, and a terrible sense of guilt washed over him as he stared back into the Princess’ eyes.

She glanced over at Golden Shield. “Oh, are you the one Officer Shield spoke of? Then perhaps there is hope for us after all.”

Mouse swallowed. “Y-you remember me?”

“Of course I do, Mouse,” she said. “After what Clover did for you, I couldn’t possibly forget.”

Mouse opened his mouth, but felt the words die in his throat. He hadn’t been this close to the Princess since his escape, and seeing her like this brought a rush of memories back to his head. The strange, desperate insistence of Clover the Clever that “Mouse would save us all,” the hope in her eyes shining even as she lay bleeding on the sewer floor, and the strange weight that her life had on his waking mind.

She knew.

She knew that Fate picked him, she knew, and did everything in her power to make sure he’d make it.

Clover died to save Equestria through him.

“So have you come then, to save us as she foretold?” The Princess asked, her eyes mournful, and voice quivering.

Damn you, Seyella. Damn you to Tartarus.

“I have, My Lady, in memory of Clover, who gave me my life.”

Golden Shield did a double take.

Platinum smiled. “Thank you, Mouse. Finally, I can rest easy knowing that you will be there, as Clover said you would.”

Mouse nodded, bowing as the Princess continued on her way. He stayed bowed for a moment or two, before Golden turned to him. “The Sarding Tartarus was that?!”

Mouse sighed. “Just tell me what we’re doing.”

“No, I’m not letting that go. There’s so many things going on there, and they all need explaining.”

Mouse glared at her. “Do you want my help or not?”

She grit her teeth. “Fine, but you owe me an explanation. If you follow me back to my office.”

She led him back, and took her seat, and Mouse did the same as she sighed, and began. “Alright, so, the Horn of the Mystic Oath has been attacking the Castle on and off for the past few days. At first it was a few infiltrators that tried to assassinate the guards and the Founders, but it’s been escalating lately.”

Mouse decided to keep quiet about his last visit to the Canterlot Castle.

“A unicorn mage caused an explosion on one of the corner towers. It only managed to take three casualties, but it caught the attention of some of the new nobles. It spooked them, and some of them began to have some dissenting talks. Some about leaving, which hurts our claim to legitimacy. We’ve been able to convince most of the nobles it was an alchemical accident, but that’s not going to last long.

“This leaves us with our mission. We need to destroy the Mystic Oath, and hopefully find out why they’re targeting Equestria.”

“Alright, so what leads do you have?” Mouse asked.

“Not many, unfortunately,” she admitted. “The Mystic Oath’s been striking like a snake, attacking without warning, and worse still, without an obvious origin point. I have no signs as to where to find them, and the worst part is, the longer we take, the more attacks hit Canterlot, the more attacks, the more dissent, the more dissent, the higher of a chance that Equestria crumbles.”

“So you need someone who can track?”

“Again, not that simple. If it were just tracking, then we’d hire a ranger or someone from the Darkwood Company, but the issue is that we know there are some nobles hiding them. The Mystic Oath has several very powerful friends, and that can’t be ignored.”

“So you need an infiltrator.”

“Yes, but they’re very talented at magic, and that makes things difficult yet again. In fact, I know that they have methods that block magic, as well as detect unicorn magic on top of the defense they have.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I figured you’d be a good choice. You have magic, and experience in breaking into ponies’ homes. You seemed like the perfect fit.”

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be enough.”

“I thought you said you were going to take the job,” Golden said.

“Oh, I am, but we’re going to need more than just me. Luckily, I know a few ponies that can help us out if they will.”

“So what? Are you suggesting we put together a team?”

Mouse nodded. “As much as it pains me to say it, yes.”

“Alright, so where do we start?”

“In town, but you might have to get your hooves dirty.”

She grimaced. “Great, but what did I expect working with a criminal.”

“Don’t worry,” Mouse said, “only one of them’s a criminal, maybe two, and the other two will want to run me through.”

She smirked. “Now that sounds more like my speed. Alright, let’s go get your team.”

Mouse sat at his favorite stall, eating his red onion soup, waiting for his first pony to show.

Golden was a few blocks down, waiting, grumpily down the way while Mouse did his best to set up a meeting. He’d never been to the Canterlot thieves guild, so the set up was going to be harder than he really wanted, but hopefully someone would bite on the lure he was putting out.

He went through two bowls of soup before a voice whispered behind him. “You know you have a flock behind you right?” You have guards tailing you.

“Not a flock, Cut, just one bird, but it’s complicated,” Mouse said, smiling as he turned to see Cut Purse behind him.

“Now that sounds like a story,” Cut said, before he slapped Mouse on the back. “Good to see you again, Mouse. I was afraid you met Jack Ketch you went so quiet.” Thought maybe you’d been hanged.

“No, not so bad, though I did take up some professional shoulder tapping.” No, though I did wind up an Assassin for a while.

“And I thought you said the shadows weren’t for you.”

Mouse shrugged. “The stuffing was good. Now, I’m very glad to see you, because we need your help.”

“Me? Need hired help for your game? Need to get you out of the Guesthouse?” Need an accomplice for a job? Need someone to bail you out?

“No, no. I need someone to help me play a new game. A game for the birds.” I need your help to steal for the guards.

“For the birds?” Cut asked. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“My shadow can tell you all about it,” Mouse replied, “but the gist is that they need a special kind of stuffing in order to keep things running here, and they need a special kind of gentleman to do it, so they hired me, and I’m offering you the chance to get your piece of the pie.”

Cut shook his head. “You’re something Mouse,” he said, before putting some copper bits down and ordering a bowl of soup himself. “Alright, call your bird over, and let’s talk.”

Mouse nodded, before waving Golden over, before he introduced his “independent gentleman of fortune” friend.

The first member of the team was secured.