Steel Burner

Bitter entrails

********** The village of Hoofington

The village of Hoofington was bristling with ponies. News of a strange creature spotted at the nearby town of Ponyville dissuaded their happy moods partially, but for the majority it laid undeterred. To the average onlooker it appeared as if the little village was going to break out in song because they were so happy. All moving left and right practically prancing and hopping about in their stupors. They never expected what was going to happen today.

Vigil opted to scout ahead while Omior kept to the shadows, best not to raise an alarm for no good reason, right? After losing their currency in their last debacle against Blackwing’s oppressive soldiers and mercenaries, they were a bit underfunded at the moment. So what better thing to do than odd jobs around the town? In other words, ponies need to be out and about for there to be any kind of job available.

Vigil had entered the village and started his way for the center of town where the ‘odd jobs’ billboard was located. A few ponies gave him a glance or two, one even stared at a wound he had from the previous encounters.

None of them stopped him or took more than a few seconds before they continued on with their day. At least, that’s what Vigil had originally thought. A small random strewn of ponies kept an eye cautiously on him, whatever purposes they were for.

The unicorn finally reached the board to find only one job up there, the rest were useless ads that nopony read anyways.

The paper read:

‘Unicorn needed for special work at 23 west forehoof that is decent in repair work. Payment for the job finished is 36 bits.

Sincerely, Sinclair Moincepetite’

With practiced ease, Vigil delicately tore off a small chunk of the paper that was the labels, none were taken previously and the date on the flier was not more than a day or so ago.

********** roughly a block away

A pair of yellow eyes seemed to glow in the shadows they were home to. The ponies passed by it either unnoticed or with assumptions of a simple cat taking a rest, being none the wiser to what it could be, or was.

It shimmered slightly a faint green that seemed like a quick electrical current all throughout the silhouette. After the green line passed, the silhouette changed and reformed its body structure to conform to a more pony like one. The yellow and watchful eyes turned into a naive and yet malicious brown. The body shrank down and turned into the size of a foal.

After the brown eyes made sure no pony was watching, it scurried out of the shadows as a light blue colt with a light brown streak running across his side. His mane was a bright pink with white bubbly polka dots randomly across with a matching tail.

The young foal scurried through the busy streets and stayed just out of sight of the pony he was tailing.

**** Vigil Main street Hoofington

Vigil turned around with the sense of being watched but couldn’t find the source of it. Shrugging off his nerves as a sense of being in a new town after everything that happened, he continued on his way, for the most part undeterred.

**** Omior Hoofington outskirts

The samurai’s head started thumping against his skull, a migraine making itself known in its early stage. He was lain against a tree as he tried to put together the jumbled thoughts that threatened to break through his skull. He was trying and failing to organize his thoughts very quickly, stress taking hold over anything else.

Eventually, he gave up and hit his fist against the tree, causing a few leaves to falter from their respective branches and float ever so slowly to the ground below.

Sweat was pouring from him from the stress he was feeling, or so he thought. After about a minute, his vision started blurring and black and red spots started to fill his vision, a beautiful painting filling the spots shortly after as he fell into unconsciousness.

Omior opened his eyes, he was in a japanese style room. A sliding paper door was being opened as he got up from where he lay.

On the other side of the door was a familiar face he saw last time he regained his memories, but his mind couldn’t remember the name.

“Hey, I see you’re working on another of your haiku paintings, what’s this one based on?” The man said as he removed a quiver from his back, he had a mask hooked to it that smiled mischievously in Omior’s direction and it filled him with a sort of dread.

Omior felt his mouth move mechanically without to force of his mind to control it. “Hey, yeah just another boring one about landscapes, Ahingor. What brings you back so soon?” A sigh erupted as the samurai felt his body move on its own and lay down, arms crossed behind his head.
“The people in the southern district villages accepted the peace treaty. Supposedly it’s fair enough for now.” He sighed and let the rest of his objects drop in a pile around the quiver and armament of a mask.

The room started shaking just enough for Omior to take note of it but it seemed Ahingor had no knowledge of it. One of the lights holding a candle that was not lit fell to the ground after it’s old rope finally snapped.

Omior had gotten up and, now free from the mechanical movements, went over and inspected the lighting that had reached the ground.

Ahingor looked a bit sorry and spoke up. “Seems my presence always breaks your stuff. I’ll never understand how you always use things until you’re forced to replace them.”

“Well I-” Ahingor stopped as the room’s shaking finally reached him. It’s pace quickened and soon his ass met with the ground quickly. The room suddenly rose in temperature, and in a quick instance, a ball of fire hit the room, just missing Omior and completely smashing into where his painting once was. Fires burst all along the shattered remains. Omior-

The samurai’s eyes shot open at the sound of a tree cracking in half. He stood up and got into a ready stance, listening warily. The tree only about a meter away from the one he was under had been sliced nearly in two, the other half falling the opposite direction of him. Whoever had cut that tree up had intended to use it to end his life.

Suddenly, a large amount of yellow eyes came into sight, followed by pure black silhouettes that had bug like green wings that buzzed at their choice in prey.

Omior was surrounded, thirty to one at the very least but he didn’t care for numbers. He focused his senses and willed them to heighten for his sudden challengers.

“Come get some, demons.” He gruffly muttered as a few charged at him in three different directions.