Assassin's Trotby WolokaiChaptersPrologue - LineageBlock 1 - Another Late NightBlock 2 - Chasing ShadowsPrologue - LineageYear 1454, Age of the Sisters, Midsummer. "Dear Olivia, how it pains me to say this but...I cannot risk it. The life of little foal...the life of my wife...everything I hold near and dear to my heart! I understand that the dangers are as great as they are numerous, but I cannot take the chance of a move to Stalliongrad. The harsh winters would be too much for young Whoover to bear...he would not make it. Besides, it is better if I keep the Tempmare Order busy here looking for me while the rest of you make your escape. I...have talked with my wife about the possibility of us being found out...and it is something that she understands. I will be writing my last will and testament with my wife shortly after I send this letter to you and Rainene, so that nothing goes wrong or astray. Should the worst happen before Whoover comes of age, I would ask that you keep watch over him until he is ready. Until such time arises, I will leave a note and my belongings to him in case things go more smoothly than I predict. I pray that this is not the last time we will have contact with one another dear Olivia, but the Tempmares are eager for blood. Send me a letter back as soon as you receive this, so that I know that our message lines are still secure. Be safe Olivia, and remember: Ничто не истинно, Все позволено. - The Doctor" The night was young and beautiful in the city of Canterlot. The breeze was gentle and calm, soothing like the coos of birds to their little ones. Above, in the clear night sky, Luna's full moon hung perfectly with its glow bringing a graceful shimmer across the marble buildings that made up the fair city. But tonight...tonight was anything but beautiful for a lone figure standing atop a high, narrow, wooden platform overlooking Troterius Park in East Canterlot. This figure did not move...did not shift...but simply breathed, like a living statue. The figure's hot breath quietly streamed out of his nose, swirling gently in the air before disappearing. "Vill this be all...?" asked a Russicoltian and timid voice from behind the figure, the voice of an adolescent colt who looked chilled and icy. Whether the young one was freezing from the chill of the air or the fear of standing before such a murderous...yet amazing creature, he could not say. From the figure, a deep colt's voice answered with a light whisper "Yes...Alenko I believe that will be all." The colt turned slowly on the narrow platform, his white robes hugging him slightly and his leg cape shifting slightly from the movement. He was armored with leather greaves on each leg, carefully hidden by the large robes of white that adorned most of the colt's body. Around his middle rested a belt with two small pouches hanging from them, with the folds of his robes opening to reveal a velvety red color. He wore only a simple necklace with a leather pouch around his neck, and a hardened shoulder pad on his right side near his neck. His hood was drawn up over his head, his eyes invisible to the young Alenko. The colt's eyes were drawn to the symbol sewn into the rear of the robes, where the older colt's flank was. A mark of red, like blood, which consisted of what looked like a nearly completed 'A' with its middle bar missing, and a wavy line stretching underneath it. He had often seen a symbol like that when he was smaller...and wherever it was seen, the flow of blood followed. "I vill deliver this letter quickly, I promise you sir!" squeaked the colt to the robed pony in front of him, the young one staring in fear at the cold frown the robed pony continue to give, his vaporous breath continuing to lightly dance upon the night air. A sudden twitch out of the robed pony's lips was enough to give the young Alenko a near heart attack at first, but when a small smile formed on the robed pony's lips, the foal felt his tension slip away, and his muscles relax. Alenko stiffened yet again however as the robed pony put a gentle hoof on his shoulder and whispered "Be at ease little one...there is no cause for you to chill like the air in my presence." The young colt could feel the thick padding of a gauntlet from underneath the robe...knowing its true identity to be something much more darker. "Of...of course Master Whoberius, it is just..." he struggled, his lungs aching from the cold of the air as he spoke "You are...if you don't mind me saying...very scary." At this, Whoberius let out a light chuckle, keeping his lips pressed together in a tiny smile as he took his away from Alenko's shoulder and whispered "Yes I...suppose there quite a few who would call me such. You have no cause to fear me though, dear Alenko. However...I would fear Miss Olivia's wrath were she to receive this letter late..." he trailed off his sentence with a light-hearted warning tone, making Alenko gulp and shake slightly on his hooves. "N...no sir!" Alenko gasped, turning towards the opposite way, facing the many rooftops of East Canterlot he would have to climb "I vould never risk upsetting dear Lady! I vill go at once, da?" "I will take you across the more...unfriendly part of the city before I let you go on your own, ok?" Whoberius whispered, quietly stepping off of the platform and onto the red painted roof. His ears perked under his robes as the light screech of an eagle reached his ears, drawing a tight grimace out of him for a moment before receiving a nod from Alenko. "Alright then...allons-y..." The two turned towards the east, beginning their quick, silent gallop across the rooftops. Alenko stayed as close as he could to Whoberius without stepping on his robes or bumping into him. He was surprised at just the sheer skill and stamina Whoberius possessed as he moved across the roofs, looking as if he was flying or gliding across them with wings. Alenko watched as Whoberius ran straight towards a high wall, taking quick strides and leaping towards it. His front right and back left hooves hit the stone first, pushing off and giving him a good height to grip onto the edge of the wall. He pulled himself up quickly, turning and dipping a hoof down to help Alenko up. The young colt took Whoberius's hoof firmly, squeaking as he was pulled up quickly by the robed pony. Whoberius turned back towards the east, peering carefully over the other side of the thick wall before whispering "Hold on...this will only take a second." Alenko peered over the edge and took a sudden intake of breath, holding it as he spotted a lone Lunar Guard patrolling the small roof below them. His armor was the usual make...but what was different was the ruby color of stripes that adorned his flank armor. "Lunar Shine..." Alenko whispered to himself as Whoberius locked his eyes on the guard. "Vut are we going to d-" Alenko started, hardly noticing that Whoberius had already taken a leap off of the building towards the guard below. The young colt stared in awe as a long blade suddenly shot out from under the robes covering Whoberius's front left hoof. It emerged with the perfect pitch of metallic sound, ethereal but deadly. Whoberius descended quickly, landing on the back of the guard and hooking a leg around to push up against his mouth. With the surprised guard silenced, Whoberius lodged his hoof-blade into the back of his foe's neck, drawing a gurgle out of him before he fell limp underneath him. His blade retracted with a soft 'Schick!', the robed pony quietly pushing the body up against the side of the wall and whispering "Riposa in pace...". After the body was secured, Whoberius looked up slowly and motioned to Alenko that it was safe to come down. "Alright..." Whoberius whispered as Alenko hopped down. "You go across two more rooftops, and then down into the alley where you will find a sewer drain. You go down the ladder and north and you will he met by a trusted friend. Ask her 'when does the violist weep?', and if she answers 'It isn't a violin, it is a cello...', then it is safe to go with her. Do you understand all that?" Alenko nodded quietly, his wide eyes still semi-focused on the body of the slain guard. "Then go," whispered Whoberius quickly "go, and be safe dear Alenko. May the eagle carry you swiftly." Whoberius watched as Alenko quickly departed, the older colt letting out a quiet sigh and ensuring that he had gotten over the rooftops safety on his own first before turning back to the west. He quickly began his retreat towards the West District, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as patrols of Lunar Shine Guards moved about below. There are things you should know about me...but what you should know, I cannot tell you. My life has been one of shadows and mystery...as my father's was, and his father before me. The colt quickly galloped across two thin sets of cables, passing right over a guard who was too busy letting out a loud yawn to notice the shadow passing right over him. The only thing I can really tell you, is that I am at war. I am at war...and my son and wife are casualties because of it. Everyday I put their lives at risk when I venture out of the door with a mission...a mission to purge Equestria of the corrupt evil that has seeped deep into the roots and foundation of Equestria. Whoberius turned his head, looking behind him to make sure nopony was watching. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he slipped into the opening of the second story window of a brick colored house. It was a simple enough house from the outside, built in the typical middle-class style of West Canterlot. Everyday...my son asks me where I am going...where am I venturing off to. Every time I answer him with 'Daddy is going on a wonderful adventure to save the world...and if you want to help Daddy one day...you have to keep up with your studies and work hard!'. Heh...my wife always laughed at that. The colt quietly opened the second door on the left, down the hall from the stairs...peering quietly inside. It was the room of a young foal's room that Whoberius looked into, a small smile on his face as he beheld his young son, a Pegasus, sleeping soundly in his bed. He was curled up with his favorite 'Fleetfoot' doll, his nightlight gleaming brightly. Whoberius let out a quiet sigh as he closed the door to his son's room, heading to his own room with a hurried pace. This life...this...this war, it's a sacrifice I have to endure for the betterment of the world. It is something I have to face in order to provide my son and his son and his son with a peaceful future...a future where he will not have to run around through the night with tools of death hidden in his armor. Whoberius opened the door to his room slowly, being careful not to make any noise as he spotted his adoring wife asleep in his bed. He smiled as he quietly walked along the foot of the bed to the far bookcase along the east wall, watching her silently. Her gray coat shimmered in the moonlight cast through the window, her blonde mane gleaming in a similar fashion. He always found it funny how their son looked almost identical to him, minus the wings, and almost nothing like her...except for her beautiful, beautiful yellow eyes. There is no choice...no reasoning...no denying my destiny. I know what I am...and I know what I have to do. If nopony stands up against the corruption...it will continue to fester, and I WILL NOT stand by and have my son grow up in a world filled with fear and death around every corner, and across every street and rooftop. With the small tug of a green colored book called 'The Creed of the 7th Midsummer', the middle section of the bookcase moved back and slid over, revealing a small study room that housed an empty armor rack, several opened parchments on a tiny desk, a few empty weapon racks, and an open chest. After a light sigh, Whoberius slipped inside, the bookcase closing in behind him. Three tenants that myself and the last of my breed must follow...tenants that I hope to teach to my son one day. Real lessons besides the simple math and english required by the school for him to learn. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent...hide in plain sight...and never compromise the Bronyhood...these laws that have been passed onto me...I will pass onto my son. The bookcase opened once more, and what emerged was a middle-aged colt with a medium length, brown colored mane that curved backwards along his neck and stood up straight. His coat was a light brown, his cutie-mark that of a simple hourglass. His eyes were a soft sapphire, eyes that lingered over his beautiful wife as he slipped quietly into the bed behind her, pulling her close with loving care. The low sound of her moaning from tiredness and the whisper of "Whooves..." was the only thing to escape her lips, the colt, Whoberius, Whooves, smiling and watching the bookcase reseal itself. For one day...when my time is over, and it will be over....my son will have to take up the mantle of his ancestors and fight this bloody, savage war. Against the Tempmare Order, he will have to stand. I pray and pray and pray...that this time may never come...but I know deep in my heart it will have to... Whooves sighed into the back of his lover's neck, closing his eyes and finally stepping away from the ruined world he had only just been running through...and into the soft, loving world of his lover's embrace and her sweet dreams. But until that day comes...I will simply do what I always do...and be who I always am. My name, is Doctor Whooves...and I.... I...am an Assassin. Wolokai Kurr presents... Assassin's Trot Block 1 - Another Late NightBlock 1 - Another Late Night "My father tells me that writing in a journal will help me alleviate some of the stress I've been having lately due to school, and make me feel better. Something about 'putting your memories on paper is a good way to help clear and un-cram your mind!'. I'm not all too sure about that...he can be quite a silly pony sometimes. But, oh well...so here it is. My name is Whoover Whooves, I reached my adolescent age about three years ago, and adulthood is still on the horizon. I'm a Pegasus pony, with a cutie-mark of an hourglass behind a rolled up scroll. I guess the hourglass is part of a family thing...but the scroll I know is all mine. It shows to me and the rest of Canterlot that I am a literate pony, and I am NOT to be taken for a fool! The others may laugh at me and my theories about the personification of certain magic schools and how mentality status can actually affect Magic, leading it to be a much more broader range of Magic, but they'll see! Ugh...the nerve of some ponies. Even my teachers can be fools sometimes, often complaining to my father that I'm too...out-going, too adventurous! Science and Magic aren't subjects you approach like a scared little wet kitten! You need to show adamant resolve and constant vigilance! I still don't understand why some ponies have to be such ignorant -" "Whoovsies! Dinner is ready Muffin!" called a chirpy voice from the bottom of the stairs, the happy call sailing up and through the door on the left hand side of the hall. The ears of Whoover Whooves perked as his mother's voice reached him, and he gently dropped the pencil he was writing with from his mouth and turned his head towards the door. "Yes Mother, I'm coming!" He shouted back, his semi-deep voice reaching back out to her. He was still trying to get used to the pitch-change in his voice, sometimes frightening himself whenever he opened his mouth. With a heavy sigh, Whoover hopped off his tiny desk seat, ruffling his wings up for a moment before giving two light flaps and straightening his feathers back out. He stretched his two hooves forward slowly, taking a stretching bow and getting the kinks out of his flank and body. He had already been studying for several hours prior to his journal entry...something he had been dreading for some reason. He had often looked towards the simple leather-bound book with a sense of foreboding and a tight grimace. He should have been focused on his studies...not wasting precious time writing his thoughts and opinions down on paper. Words on paper were dangerous...but words on the mind were safe and secure. Nopony would ever know, so as long as you never provided the means or the evidence to expose them. "Hurry up Muffin! It's getting cold!" called his mother once again, drawing yet another sigh out of the young colt as he walked forward out of the door. "For the last time mother," Whoover said with an exasperated breath "I know tonight is Thursday, and that means it's carrot night, carrots do NOT get cold, they're naturally cold!" "Well I cooked these tonight!" his mother retorted, the colt rolling his eyes as he descended the stairs. As he made his way down, his eyes were drawn to the wall on his left. Pictures of him and his mother were hung up in a goofy fashion, showing several smiles and a lot of exotic locations. The one thing that was missing out of most of them though...was his father. His father, known famously as 'The Doctor', was a very important and hard-working doctor at the Canterlot Medical Facility of Central Equestria. It was because of him that Whoover acquired his dreams of becoming a medicine pony himself, and to follow in the footsteps of his father. It was because of him that he and his mother got to vacation to all of the exotic locations in those pictures, earning thousands upon thousands of bits. It was only too bad that he never got to experience the joy of the vacation himself. Whoover often remembered his father saying 'It's alright...really, it is! To me, just seeing your smiling faces in those pictures is enough to keep me going. If it makes you two happy, then I am happy too.' Whoover moved around the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, moving towards the sound of a chair and some plates clattering slightly. Upon entering the kitchen, his eyes were immediately drawn to his mother, who had a smile smile on her face as she pushed some carrots onto an empty plate and placed it in Whoover's spot at the table. He watched her staring at the carrots with her right eye, noticing the concentration she had on her face despite the fact that her left eye was staring up towards the ceiling. That feature about his mother was something that his father always said was 'very cute' about her. As Whoover made his way to his seat, his mother looked up and exclaimed "Well look at that, you actually came out of the cave!" "Ha ha....hilarious." Whoover replied quietly, getting up into his seat and picking up his fork with a carefully balanced hoof. "Are you ok sweetie...?" asked his mother, who's cheery demeanor faded slightly at her son's tone. "What?" Whoover asked suddenly, looking up from his carrots to look at his saddened mother's face before quickly saying "Oh no! Everything's fine...just...homework frustrating me again. You know how it is." His mother's blonde mane was pushed out of the way of her eyes by a gentle movement of her hoof as she smiled and said "Of course...you've been studying so hard lately! Is there anything you need help with?" Whoover shook his head as he took a small bite out of his carrots, his eyes shifting across the table towards his father's spot. There was a plate of carrots out for him...but no pony to eat them. "Father working late again?" Whoover asked quietly, his eyes looking back towards his mother, his vision immediately focusing on the corner of her mouth which twitched slightly. "Yes...," whispered his mother, the bubbles on her flank moving as she shifted in her seat "There was a pretty nasty accident downtown and there was an influx of patients..." "Is this about that riot I heard about on the radio?" Whoover asked cautiously, pitching his tone just right to where it wouldn't aggravate his mother. He knew she didn't like getting into politics...but when she did, she did so with a vengeance. At first, his mother looked hesitant to respond, but when she did...she did so with a careful tone "I think so...you know how crazy the news can be sometimes..." "Crazy like the government maybe..." Whoover muttered, testing the waters of the conversation, like a careful hoof in the lake to check the temperature. His mother sighed, pushing a hoof to her forehead as she muttered "Oh not tonight honey...I hear enough of it from your father concerning the hospital's funding..." Not a good night, check. "Sorry mother..." Whoover whispered, eating through the rest of his dinner quietly and continuing the earlier conversation with his mother about his school work. The rest of the night progressed as usual, with Whoover helping his mother wrap his father's dinner and clearing the table. When all the dishes were in the dishwasher, and his mother situated on the couch doing some of her knitting work, Whoover trotted quickly back upstairs and into his room. He rushed back to his seat, flicking on his desk light and hurriedly opening his Equestrian Chemistrot 301 text book, pulling out his bookmark and running a hoof along the lines to find his spot. With a light sigh and a small swig out of the water bottle he kept by his desk, Whoover plunged back into the world of knowledge, sailing away across the seas of elements and mixtures and compounds. The hours ticked away as blackness began to morph and blur the words on the page, until eventually Whoover was sailing across the wispy seas of his dreams rather than science. He walked along the shores of Zebrica with his mother...remembering how she was laughing and trying to get him to run with him through the tall grass. He tried to warn his mother about lions in the tall grass, but she didn't listen...the mare gleefully laughing as she dashed through the savannah. Whoover had followed her quickly, shouting after her to stop as he heard the sounds of growling somewhere amongst the sea of tan-ish green. His mother didn't listen, didn't even pay attention as the sound of an ethereal ringing echoed across the area before quickly falling silent. The roars had been silenced, the sound of a body thudding in the grass. "MOTHER!" He shrieked, rushing deeper into the grass as he looked high and low for the grey mare. He was just starting to completely panic when the blonde-maned mare jumped out from a clump of bushes shouting "GOT YA!" Whoover screamed as he was tackled to the ground, the mother cackling in delight as he shouted "Are you out of your mind mom!? You could have been savagely mauled!!! Didn't you hear the growling?!" "Hmm...?" His mother asked, still flashing him her signature grin "I don't hear anything muffin! Are you sure YOU'RE not the crazy one?" She giggled and quickly got back up, rushing back into the grass. He frowned, following after her with a grimace on his face. He was just about to call after her again when his hoof struck something hard, sending him forward with a loud 'thud' and a yelp. He turned his body over and gasped as he beheld the object in which he tumbled over...the body of a dead lion. It was fresh, he knew that. Crimson trails of blood leaked down a single stab wound from the lion's neck, the eyes of the lion wide...as if terrified. Whoover carefully poked the lion, ensuring it was dead. A sudden shifting in the grass to his left made him jump however, the young colt turning quickly towards the sound. He didn't hear growling...he didn't hear anything. But what he saw...what he saw was sure to be the work of some kind of illusion. Perhaps there was too much sun...? Whatever the case was, all he could see was the outlines of something in white...perhaps a pony, perhaps not...moving through the grass quietly and quickly. It didn't make a sound as it slithered through, and in a quick moment, the white outline disappeared entirely into the thick grass. Whoover awoke with a sudden cough and a shake of his head. "Huh..what?" he muttered as he heard the sounds of quickly moving hooves in the hall outside, followed by hurried and strained voices. "Whooves, oh why must happen all the time?!" his mother whispered urgently. "Shhh...it's ok Ditzy, just a flesh-..." the voice of his father replied before trailing off as they moved further down the hall, drawing Whoover to quietly slip out of his seat and rush for his door. As he opened his door and peaked outside, his parents' door closed with a soft 'click'. Narrowing his eyes, the young colt stealthily slipped out of his room and trotted down towards his parents' room. He pushed his right ear against the door, getting comfortable as the voices of his parents reached him. "This looks bad..." Ditzy whimpered "I'm a doctor dear...it's nothing. Just a quick bandage and it'll be ok!" His father reassured her. Ditzy apparently wasn't any of it, her voice growing frustrated as she whispered quickly "This work is getting too dangerous...soon enough it's going to be YOU in one of those hospital beds instead of the rioters." "The Tempmares don't play around my love...you know that," Whooves replied quietly, grunting as something wet was slapped against him, possibly a washcloth. "I just wish the war would end already...we've already sacrificed so much..." Ditzy whispered, the sounds of their voices fading away. They were probably holding one another, as he always saw them do most of the time when he came home. With careful hoof movements, Whoover retreated to his room and sat back down at his desk. He pondered over their words carefully for the next few moments, trying to piece together what he could. His father was wounded...by a group called The Tempmares...? And what war!? There was a war going on? How could there be and nopony know about it? The only war that could be worth mentioning was the rioting in the city against the overly high taxes and unfair laws being passed in the Capital Castle. Whoover narrowed his eyes and frowned, rubbing his chin with a careful hoof before pulling out a spare piece of paper and a pencil. He began to take several notes, his mind already piecing together an idea and several theories in his head. It was a problem that Ditzy believed Whoover inherited from his father... ...that when something mysterious or strange came about, they'd never stop until they discovered the truth hiding in the shadows. No matter what the truth might have been...wonderful...or horrifying, their pursuit for the answers to such things was as much a gift as it was a curse. Block 2 - Chasing Shadows"Have a good day at work muffin!" Ditzy Doo chimed happily, smooching a blushing Whooves on his cheek as he adjusted his saddlebags. They were standing on the front porch of their house, the shimmering sun beginning its decent over the western horizon of Canterlot. The Doctor smiled as he returned her tiny kiss, pressing his lips against hers and holding himself there for several moments. She returned the moment in kind, her wings fluttering slightly as she felt her heart thump with excitement and joy. From above, Whoover tried his best not to gag on the lump in the back of his throat as he watched his parents embrace. "Ugh...gross..." he grumbled to himself, leaning back into the second story window and looking back towards his door. It was locked up tight, the usual sign to his parents that he was to be left COMPLETELY and UTTERLY alone. As long as he didn't have another mare over (unlikely and pointless according to him anyway...), Whoover could keep his room locked up tight as a sign that he was doing some intense study and was not to be disturbed except in supreme emergencies. Giving an affirmative nod to himself, ensuring all his bases were covered, Whoover leaned back out of the window and watched as his mother waved his father off, the grey Pegasus giving one of her best smiles and turning to head back inside the house. Whoover shifted his eyes upwards, moving along the street until he saw his father's flank bouncing away. With one more nod to himself and a deep breath, Whoover leapt from his window and towards the ground floor. Quickly fanning his wings outward, the young colt quickly glided to the ground and galloped forward with his hooves as the forward momentum carried him forward. Without breaking his stride or his speed, Whoover turned to his left and quickly moved up the street, tailing his father from afar. He kept his eyes narrowed and his hooves quiet as he slipped quietly up the street, hugging one of the walls of the houses to his left. His father didn't break his stride, smiling and humming as he trotted along, oblivious to the stalker watching him from the shadows of a nearby trash can. The young Whoover continued his silent hunt for a good twenty minutes, dipping back behind corners and small dumpsters whenever his father's ears perked, swearing quietly to himself about narrowly being caught. Fortunately for Whoover, his father remained none the wiser. The older colt continued his merry tune as he stepped out of the small alley-like street and onto one of the heavier trafficked streets of Canterlot. Ponies and chariots rushed this way and that, with Whooves sticking more over to one of the sides as to avoid being run over. Whoover weaved in and out of the crowd quickly, ducking and diving to avoid collision with the ruckus rushing too and fro in the streets. He was bumped slightly by an aging stallion with a simple black suit and top hat who in turn shouted towards the young colt "Watch where you're going you little runt!" The ears of Whooves suddenly perked, causing Whoover to take in a sharp intake of breath and duck his head into the swarm of the crowd. Whooves took a casual look behind him as he moved forward, his nose twitching and his eyes narrowing slightly. He continued his gaze for another three seconds before an annoyed expression passed over his face and he gave a slightly aggravated sigh. He turned back around quickly and doubled his pace, trotting towards a large, white tower in the distance. It was a fairly large tower, a giant yellow bulb resting at the top and a large winding staircase spiraling down the exterior. Whoover, finally pulling his head back up and releasing his held in breath, watched his father begin his ascent up the winding staircase. The pegasus frowned, looking towards the large tower and thinking quietly to himself 'Haven't I...seen this tower before?'. He cocked his head slightly at it as he pushed his way out of the crowd, quickly trotting towards the base of the tower. 'I could have sworn...this tower feels familiar to me...' He quickly fanned out his wings, launching himself upwards and towards the top of the staircase, aiming for the area underneath the floor. Whoover quickly turned over in the air with his back to the ground, his hooves gently pushing up against ceiling of the under area of the staircase. He flapped his wings as quietly as he could, listening as his father knocked several times on a door and cleared his throat. After a few tense moments, the sounds of a door opening were heard and a young mare's voice added to the air. "Doctor!" the unknown mare exclaimed "You're here!" Whoover felt his right eye twitch as the voice registered quickly in his head...a voice he knew all too well. "Of course Mrs.Sparkle, I did remind you that I make house calls correct?" his father replied with a humorous tone. 'Twilight Sparkle...' Whoover thought with a grimace 'What's that fool doing here...?' Twilight laughed as she opened the door up further, gestering him to come him "Of course Doctor, silly me...I do thank you for coming though, Spike does have a rather bad tendency to eat things he shouldn't." The sounds of hooves on marble were heard as Twilight went on "I would have just given him some painkillers but he was complaining about itchy eyes and his scales hurting...usually I would have read up on the symptoms and see if I couldn't treat him myself...but then again you and I haven't talked in-" The sound of her voice was muffled and tuned out as she shut the door behind her father, signalling to Whoover that his trail had ended. With a grimace still plastered on his face, Whoover let himself fall from underneath the staircase towards the ground below. He landed with a light thud, quietly walking towards a bench across the street. He sat quickly, running a hoof under his chin and sighing as he said aloud "What am I doing...? Why am I even following him?" He sighed as he looked up, watching the furious traffic move through the streets "A war...what war? Where did he get that wound from...?" Whoover muttered to himself, eying the top of the tower carefully. "What are you up to...?" Around half an hour passed as Whoover continued to stare out at the crowd, pondering and thinking over what his mother could have meant when she said 'War'. Was it a literal war...figurative war against something...or what? The pegasus sighed as he felt a small ache starting to form in his head, causing the young colt to press a hoof to his forehead and sigh. When he lowered his hoof and opened his eyes, he felt a solid lump form in his throat when he beheld his father quickly trotting down the stairs of the tower, heading right back out towards the street. Whoover sprung into action, quickly pushing his way back into the crowd behind his father who turned in an easterly direction and began his casual trot. This was in the direction of his office, Whoover knew...perhaps answers awaited him there. As the son continued to stalk the father, the crowd began to swell and get larger, indicating they were reaching the more industrial side of the city. It was here that most of the hard physical work was carried out in the city: carters, runners, merchant traders and constructional work. Whoover tried his best to keep up and caught a quick glimpse of his father only for a second before a tall stallion passed between him and Whoover. When the stallion passed...his father had disappeared. "What the..?!" Whoover exclaimed, looking around in all directions. Whoover's ears flattened as he looked all around, swearing as he found no trace of his father. The pegasus was completely caught off guard as he felt something get pushed between the feathers of his right wing, the nerves of his appendage firing off and causing him to jump in alarm. He snapped his head towards his wing, his eyes widening and his breath coming up short as he beheld a small, folded up piece of paper pressed between his wings. With a ginger pull of his teeth, Whoover quickly grasped the note and unfolded it with a quick hoof. His eyes scanned the words for only a moment before he felt a cold chill seep through his body, making him look around nervously as though he was being watched... He looked back down on the words, uncertain if they were actually real or not. How could he have known...? How was it even possible?! With a quick turn of his body, Whoover folded the note back up and pressed it under his wing, beginning a quick trot back towards his house. This move...it was clever indeed according to the pegasus...but it was only one clever move. Like a bishop attacking a pawn, Whoover would wait until the Rooks or Queen were exposed, and then...he'd strike. This thinking didn't relieve him of the fear however...the chill that had swept through him when he read the words on the note...the only words that read: "Stop following me and go home. Now."
Prologue - LineageYear 1454, Age of the Sisters, Midsummer. "Dear Olivia, how it pains me to say this but...I cannot risk it. The life of little foal...the life of my wife...everything I hold near and dear to my heart! I understand that the dangers are as great as they are numerous, but I cannot take the chance of a move to Stalliongrad. The harsh winters would be too much for young Whoover to bear...he would not make it. Besides, it is better if I keep the Tempmare Order busy here looking for me while the rest of you make your escape. I...have talked with my wife about the possibility of us being found out...and it is something that she understands. I will be writing my last will and testament with my wife shortly after I send this letter to you and Rainene, so that nothing goes wrong or astray. Should the worst happen before Whoover comes of age, I would ask that you keep watch over him until he is ready. Until such time arises, I will leave a note and my belongings to him in case things go more smoothly than I predict. I pray that this is not the last time we will have contact with one another dear Olivia, but the Tempmares are eager for blood. Send me a letter back as soon as you receive this, so that I know that our message lines are still secure. Be safe Olivia, and remember: Ничто не истинно, Все позволено. - The Doctor" The night was young and beautiful in the city of Canterlot. The breeze was gentle and calm, soothing like the coos of birds to their little ones. Above, in the clear night sky, Luna's full moon hung perfectly with its glow bringing a graceful shimmer across the marble buildings that made up the fair city. But tonight...tonight was anything but beautiful for a lone figure standing atop a high, narrow, wooden platform overlooking Troterius Park in East Canterlot. This figure did not move...did not shift...but simply breathed, like a living statue. The figure's hot breath quietly streamed out of his nose, swirling gently in the air before disappearing. "Vill this be all...?" asked a Russicoltian and timid voice from behind the figure, the voice of an adolescent colt who looked chilled and icy. Whether the young one was freezing from the chill of the air or the fear of standing before such a murderous...yet amazing creature, he could not say. From the figure, a deep colt's voice answered with a light whisper "Yes...Alenko I believe that will be all." The colt turned slowly on the narrow platform, his white robes hugging him slightly and his leg cape shifting slightly from the movement. He was armored with leather greaves on each leg, carefully hidden by the large robes of white that adorned most of the colt's body. Around his middle rested a belt with two small pouches hanging from them, with the folds of his robes opening to reveal a velvety red color. He wore only a simple necklace with a leather pouch around his neck, and a hardened shoulder pad on his right side near his neck. His hood was drawn up over his head, his eyes invisible to the young Alenko. The colt's eyes were drawn to the symbol sewn into the rear of the robes, where the older colt's flank was. A mark of red, like blood, which consisted of what looked like a nearly completed 'A' with its middle bar missing, and a wavy line stretching underneath it. He had often seen a symbol like that when he was smaller...and wherever it was seen, the flow of blood followed. "I vill deliver this letter quickly, I promise you sir!" squeaked the colt to the robed pony in front of him, the young one staring in fear at the cold frown the robed pony continue to give, his vaporous breath continuing to lightly dance upon the night air. A sudden twitch out of the robed pony's lips was enough to give the young Alenko a near heart attack at first, but when a small smile formed on the robed pony's lips, the foal felt his tension slip away, and his muscles relax. Alenko stiffened yet again however as the robed pony put a gentle hoof on his shoulder and whispered "Be at ease little one...there is no cause for you to chill like the air in my presence." The young colt could feel the thick padding of a gauntlet from underneath the robe...knowing its true identity to be something much more darker. "Of...of course Master Whoberius, it is just..." he struggled, his lungs aching from the cold of the air as he spoke "You are...if you don't mind me saying...very scary." At this, Whoberius let out a light chuckle, keeping his lips pressed together in a tiny smile as he took his away from Alenko's shoulder and whispered "Yes I...suppose there quite a few who would call me such. You have no cause to fear me though, dear Alenko. However...I would fear Miss Olivia's wrath were she to receive this letter late..." he trailed off his sentence with a light-hearted warning tone, making Alenko gulp and shake slightly on his hooves. "N...no sir!" Alenko gasped, turning towards the opposite way, facing the many rooftops of East Canterlot he would have to climb "I vould never risk upsetting dear Lady! I vill go at once, da?" "I will take you across the more...unfriendly part of the city before I let you go on your own, ok?" Whoberius whispered, quietly stepping off of the platform and onto the red painted roof. His ears perked under his robes as the light screech of an eagle reached his ears, drawing a tight grimace out of him for a moment before receiving a nod from Alenko. "Alright then...allons-y..." The two turned towards the east, beginning their quick, silent gallop across the rooftops. Alenko stayed as close as he could to Whoberius without stepping on his robes or bumping into him. He was surprised at just the sheer skill and stamina Whoberius possessed as he moved across the roofs, looking as if he was flying or gliding across them with wings. Alenko watched as Whoberius ran straight towards a high wall, taking quick strides and leaping towards it. His front right and back left hooves hit the stone first, pushing off and giving him a good height to grip onto the edge of the wall. He pulled himself up quickly, turning and dipping a hoof down to help Alenko up. The young colt took Whoberius's hoof firmly, squeaking as he was pulled up quickly by the robed pony. Whoberius turned back towards the east, peering carefully over the other side of the thick wall before whispering "Hold on...this will only take a second." Alenko peered over the edge and took a sudden intake of breath, holding it as he spotted a lone Lunar Guard patrolling the small roof below them. His armor was the usual make...but what was different was the ruby color of stripes that adorned his flank armor. "Lunar Shine..." Alenko whispered to himself as Whoberius locked his eyes on the guard. "Vut are we going to d-" Alenko started, hardly noticing that Whoberius had already taken a leap off of the building towards the guard below. The young colt stared in awe as a long blade suddenly shot out from under the robes covering Whoberius's front left hoof. It emerged with the perfect pitch of metallic sound, ethereal but deadly. Whoberius descended quickly, landing on the back of the guard and hooking a leg around to push up against his mouth. With the surprised guard silenced, Whoberius lodged his hoof-blade into the back of his foe's neck, drawing a gurgle out of him before he fell limp underneath him. His blade retracted with a soft 'Schick!', the robed pony quietly pushing the body up against the side of the wall and whispering "Riposa in pace...". After the body was secured, Whoberius looked up slowly and motioned to Alenko that it was safe to come down. "Alright..." Whoberius whispered as Alenko hopped down. "You go across two more rooftops, and then down into the alley where you will find a sewer drain. You go down the ladder and north and you will he met by a trusted friend. Ask her 'when does the violist weep?', and if she answers 'It isn't a violin, it is a cello...', then it is safe to go with her. Do you understand all that?" Alenko nodded quietly, his wide eyes still semi-focused on the body of the slain guard. "Then go," whispered Whoberius quickly "go, and be safe dear Alenko. May the eagle carry you swiftly." Whoberius watched as Alenko quickly departed, the older colt letting out a quiet sigh and ensuring that he had gotten over the rooftops safety on his own first before turning back to the west. He quickly began his retreat towards the West District, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as patrols of Lunar Shine Guards moved about below. There are things you should know about me...but what you should know, I cannot tell you. My life has been one of shadows and mystery...as my father's was, and his father before me. The colt quickly galloped across two thin sets of cables, passing right over a guard who was too busy letting out a loud yawn to notice the shadow passing right over him. The only thing I can really tell you, is that I am at war. I am at war...and my son and wife are casualties because of it. Everyday I put their lives at risk when I venture out of the door with a mission...a mission to purge Equestria of the corrupt evil that has seeped deep into the roots and foundation of Equestria. Whoberius turned his head, looking behind him to make sure nopony was watching. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he slipped into the opening of the second story window of a brick colored house. It was a simple enough house from the outside, built in the typical middle-class style of West Canterlot. Everyday...my son asks me where I am going...where am I venturing off to. Every time I answer him with 'Daddy is going on a wonderful adventure to save the world...and if you want to help Daddy one day...you have to keep up with your studies and work hard!'. Heh...my wife always laughed at that. The colt quietly opened the second door on the left, down the hall from the stairs...peering quietly inside. It was the room of a young foal's room that Whoberius looked into, a small smile on his face as he beheld his young son, a Pegasus, sleeping soundly in his bed. He was curled up with his favorite 'Fleetfoot' doll, his nightlight gleaming brightly. Whoberius let out a quiet sigh as he closed the door to his son's room, heading to his own room with a hurried pace. This life...this...this war, it's a sacrifice I have to endure for the betterment of the world. It is something I have to face in order to provide my son and his son and his son with a peaceful future...a future where he will not have to run around through the night with tools of death hidden in his armor. Whoberius opened the door to his room slowly, being careful not to make any noise as he spotted his adoring wife asleep in his bed. He smiled as he quietly walked along the foot of the bed to the far bookcase along the east wall, watching her silently. Her gray coat shimmered in the moonlight cast through the window, her blonde mane gleaming in a similar fashion. He always found it funny how their son looked almost identical to him, minus the wings, and almost nothing like her...except for her beautiful, beautiful yellow eyes. There is no choice...no reasoning...no denying my destiny. I know what I am...and I know what I have to do. If nopony stands up against the corruption...it will continue to fester, and I WILL NOT stand by and have my son grow up in a world filled with fear and death around every corner, and across every street and rooftop. With the small tug of a green colored book called 'The Creed of the 7th Midsummer', the middle section of the bookcase moved back and slid over, revealing a small study room that housed an empty armor rack, several opened parchments on a tiny desk, a few empty weapon racks, and an open chest. After a light sigh, Whoberius slipped inside, the bookcase closing in behind him. Three tenants that myself and the last of my breed must follow...tenants that I hope to teach to my son one day. Real lessons besides the simple math and english required by the school for him to learn. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent...hide in plain sight...and never compromise the Bronyhood...these laws that have been passed onto me...I will pass onto my son. The bookcase opened once more, and what emerged was a middle-aged colt with a medium length, brown colored mane that curved backwards along his neck and stood up straight. His coat was a light brown, his cutie-mark that of a simple hourglass. His eyes were a soft sapphire, eyes that lingered over his beautiful wife as he slipped quietly into the bed behind her, pulling her close with loving care. The low sound of her moaning from tiredness and the whisper of "Whooves..." was the only thing to escape her lips, the colt, Whoberius, Whooves, smiling and watching the bookcase reseal itself. For one day...when my time is over, and it will be over....my son will have to take up the mantle of his ancestors and fight this bloody, savage war. Against the Tempmare Order, he will have to stand. I pray and pray and pray...that this time may never come...but I know deep in my heart it will have to... Whooves sighed into the back of his lover's neck, closing his eyes and finally stepping away from the ruined world he had only just been running through...and into the soft, loving world of his lover's embrace and her sweet dreams. But until that day comes...I will simply do what I always do...and be who I always am. My name, is Doctor Whooves...and I.... I...am an Assassin. Wolokai Kurr presents... Assassin's Trot
Block 1 - Another Late NightBlock 1 - Another Late Night "My father tells me that writing in a journal will help me alleviate some of the stress I've been having lately due to school, and make me feel better. Something about 'putting your memories on paper is a good way to help clear and un-cram your mind!'. I'm not all too sure about that...he can be quite a silly pony sometimes. But, oh well...so here it is. My name is Whoover Whooves, I reached my adolescent age about three years ago, and adulthood is still on the horizon. I'm a Pegasus pony, with a cutie-mark of an hourglass behind a rolled up scroll. I guess the hourglass is part of a family thing...but the scroll I know is all mine. It shows to me and the rest of Canterlot that I am a literate pony, and I am NOT to be taken for a fool! The others may laugh at me and my theories about the personification of certain magic schools and how mentality status can actually affect Magic, leading it to be a much more broader range of Magic, but they'll see! Ugh...the nerve of some ponies. Even my teachers can be fools sometimes, often complaining to my father that I'm too...out-going, too adventurous! Science and Magic aren't subjects you approach like a scared little wet kitten! You need to show adamant resolve and constant vigilance! I still don't understand why some ponies have to be such ignorant -" "Whoovsies! Dinner is ready Muffin!" called a chirpy voice from the bottom of the stairs, the happy call sailing up and through the door on the left hand side of the hall. The ears of Whoover Whooves perked as his mother's voice reached him, and he gently dropped the pencil he was writing with from his mouth and turned his head towards the door. "Yes Mother, I'm coming!" He shouted back, his semi-deep voice reaching back out to her. He was still trying to get used to the pitch-change in his voice, sometimes frightening himself whenever he opened his mouth. With a heavy sigh, Whoover hopped off his tiny desk seat, ruffling his wings up for a moment before giving two light flaps and straightening his feathers back out. He stretched his two hooves forward slowly, taking a stretching bow and getting the kinks out of his flank and body. He had already been studying for several hours prior to his journal entry...something he had been dreading for some reason. He had often looked towards the simple leather-bound book with a sense of foreboding and a tight grimace. He should have been focused on his studies...not wasting precious time writing his thoughts and opinions down on paper. Words on paper were dangerous...but words on the mind were safe and secure. Nopony would ever know, so as long as you never provided the means or the evidence to expose them. "Hurry up Muffin! It's getting cold!" called his mother once again, drawing yet another sigh out of the young colt as he walked forward out of the door. "For the last time mother," Whoover said with an exasperated breath "I know tonight is Thursday, and that means it's carrot night, carrots do NOT get cold, they're naturally cold!" "Well I cooked these tonight!" his mother retorted, the colt rolling his eyes as he descended the stairs. As he made his way down, his eyes were drawn to the wall on his left. Pictures of him and his mother were hung up in a goofy fashion, showing several smiles and a lot of exotic locations. The one thing that was missing out of most of them though...was his father. His father, known famously as 'The Doctor', was a very important and hard-working doctor at the Canterlot Medical Facility of Central Equestria. It was because of him that Whoover acquired his dreams of becoming a medicine pony himself, and to follow in the footsteps of his father. It was because of him that he and his mother got to vacation to all of the exotic locations in those pictures, earning thousands upon thousands of bits. It was only too bad that he never got to experience the joy of the vacation himself. Whoover often remembered his father saying 'It's alright...really, it is! To me, just seeing your smiling faces in those pictures is enough to keep me going. If it makes you two happy, then I am happy too.' Whoover moved around the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, moving towards the sound of a chair and some plates clattering slightly. Upon entering the kitchen, his eyes were immediately drawn to his mother, who had a smile smile on her face as she pushed some carrots onto an empty plate and placed it in Whoover's spot at the table. He watched her staring at the carrots with her right eye, noticing the concentration she had on her face despite the fact that her left eye was staring up towards the ceiling. That feature about his mother was something that his father always said was 'very cute' about her. As Whoover made his way to his seat, his mother looked up and exclaimed "Well look at that, you actually came out of the cave!" "Ha ha....hilarious." Whoover replied quietly, getting up into his seat and picking up his fork with a carefully balanced hoof. "Are you ok sweetie...?" asked his mother, who's cheery demeanor faded slightly at her son's tone. "What?" Whoover asked suddenly, looking up from his carrots to look at his saddened mother's face before quickly saying "Oh no! Everything's fine...just...homework frustrating me again. You know how it is." His mother's blonde mane was pushed out of the way of her eyes by a gentle movement of her hoof as she smiled and said "Of course...you've been studying so hard lately! Is there anything you need help with?" Whoover shook his head as he took a small bite out of his carrots, his eyes shifting across the table towards his father's spot. There was a plate of carrots out for him...but no pony to eat them. "Father working late again?" Whoover asked quietly, his eyes looking back towards his mother, his vision immediately focusing on the corner of her mouth which twitched slightly. "Yes...," whispered his mother, the bubbles on her flank moving as she shifted in her seat "There was a pretty nasty accident downtown and there was an influx of patients..." "Is this about that riot I heard about on the radio?" Whoover asked cautiously, pitching his tone just right to where it wouldn't aggravate his mother. He knew she didn't like getting into politics...but when she did, she did so with a vengeance. At first, his mother looked hesitant to respond, but when she did...she did so with a careful tone "I think so...you know how crazy the news can be sometimes..." "Crazy like the government maybe..." Whoover muttered, testing the waters of the conversation, like a careful hoof in the lake to check the temperature. His mother sighed, pushing a hoof to her forehead as she muttered "Oh not tonight honey...I hear enough of it from your father concerning the hospital's funding..." Not a good night, check. "Sorry mother..." Whoover whispered, eating through the rest of his dinner quietly and continuing the earlier conversation with his mother about his school work. The rest of the night progressed as usual, with Whoover helping his mother wrap his father's dinner and clearing the table. When all the dishes were in the dishwasher, and his mother situated on the couch doing some of her knitting work, Whoover trotted quickly back upstairs and into his room. He rushed back to his seat, flicking on his desk light and hurriedly opening his Equestrian Chemistrot 301 text book, pulling out his bookmark and running a hoof along the lines to find his spot. With a light sigh and a small swig out of the water bottle he kept by his desk, Whoover plunged back into the world of knowledge, sailing away across the seas of elements and mixtures and compounds. The hours ticked away as blackness began to morph and blur the words on the page, until eventually Whoover was sailing across the wispy seas of his dreams rather than science. He walked along the shores of Zebrica with his mother...remembering how she was laughing and trying to get him to run with him through the tall grass. He tried to warn his mother about lions in the tall grass, but she didn't listen...the mare gleefully laughing as she dashed through the savannah. Whoover had followed her quickly, shouting after her to stop as he heard the sounds of growling somewhere amongst the sea of tan-ish green. His mother didn't listen, didn't even pay attention as the sound of an ethereal ringing echoed across the area before quickly falling silent. The roars had been silenced, the sound of a body thudding in the grass. "MOTHER!" He shrieked, rushing deeper into the grass as he looked high and low for the grey mare. He was just starting to completely panic when the blonde-maned mare jumped out from a clump of bushes shouting "GOT YA!" Whoover screamed as he was tackled to the ground, the mother cackling in delight as he shouted "Are you out of your mind mom!? You could have been savagely mauled!!! Didn't you hear the growling?!" "Hmm...?" His mother asked, still flashing him her signature grin "I don't hear anything muffin! Are you sure YOU'RE not the crazy one?" She giggled and quickly got back up, rushing back into the grass. He frowned, following after her with a grimace on his face. He was just about to call after her again when his hoof struck something hard, sending him forward with a loud 'thud' and a yelp. He turned his body over and gasped as he beheld the object in which he tumbled over...the body of a dead lion. It was fresh, he knew that. Crimson trails of blood leaked down a single stab wound from the lion's neck, the eyes of the lion wide...as if terrified. Whoover carefully poked the lion, ensuring it was dead. A sudden shifting in the grass to his left made him jump however, the young colt turning quickly towards the sound. He didn't hear growling...he didn't hear anything. But what he saw...what he saw was sure to be the work of some kind of illusion. Perhaps there was too much sun...? Whatever the case was, all he could see was the outlines of something in white...perhaps a pony, perhaps not...moving through the grass quietly and quickly. It didn't make a sound as it slithered through, and in a quick moment, the white outline disappeared entirely into the thick grass. Whoover awoke with a sudden cough and a shake of his head. "Huh..what?" he muttered as he heard the sounds of quickly moving hooves in the hall outside, followed by hurried and strained voices. "Whooves, oh why must happen all the time?!" his mother whispered urgently. "Shhh...it's ok Ditzy, just a flesh-..." the voice of his father replied before trailing off as they moved further down the hall, drawing Whoover to quietly slip out of his seat and rush for his door. As he opened his door and peaked outside, his parents' door closed with a soft 'click'. Narrowing his eyes, the young colt stealthily slipped out of his room and trotted down towards his parents' room. He pushed his right ear against the door, getting comfortable as the voices of his parents reached him. "This looks bad..." Ditzy whimpered "I'm a doctor dear...it's nothing. Just a quick bandage and it'll be ok!" His father reassured her. Ditzy apparently wasn't any of it, her voice growing frustrated as she whispered quickly "This work is getting too dangerous...soon enough it's going to be YOU in one of those hospital beds instead of the rioters." "The Tempmares don't play around my love...you know that," Whooves replied quietly, grunting as something wet was slapped against him, possibly a washcloth. "I just wish the war would end already...we've already sacrificed so much..." Ditzy whispered, the sounds of their voices fading away. They were probably holding one another, as he always saw them do most of the time when he came home. With careful hoof movements, Whoover retreated to his room and sat back down at his desk. He pondered over their words carefully for the next few moments, trying to piece together what he could. His father was wounded...by a group called The Tempmares...? And what war!? There was a war going on? How could there be and nopony know about it? The only war that could be worth mentioning was the rioting in the city against the overly high taxes and unfair laws being passed in the Capital Castle. Whoover narrowed his eyes and frowned, rubbing his chin with a careful hoof before pulling out a spare piece of paper and a pencil. He began to take several notes, his mind already piecing together an idea and several theories in his head. It was a problem that Ditzy believed Whoover inherited from his father... ...that when something mysterious or strange came about, they'd never stop until they discovered the truth hiding in the shadows. No matter what the truth might have been...wonderful...or horrifying, their pursuit for the answers to such things was as much a gift as it was a curse.
Block 2 - Chasing Shadows"Have a good day at work muffin!" Ditzy Doo chimed happily, smooching a blushing Whooves on his cheek as he adjusted his saddlebags. They were standing on the front porch of their house, the shimmering sun beginning its decent over the western horizon of Canterlot. The Doctor smiled as he returned her tiny kiss, pressing his lips against hers and holding himself there for several moments. She returned the moment in kind, her wings fluttering slightly as she felt her heart thump with excitement and joy. From above, Whoover tried his best not to gag on the lump in the back of his throat as he watched his parents embrace. "Ugh...gross..." he grumbled to himself, leaning back into the second story window and looking back towards his door. It was locked up tight, the usual sign to his parents that he was to be left COMPLETELY and UTTERLY alone. As long as he didn't have another mare over (unlikely and pointless according to him anyway...), Whoover could keep his room locked up tight as a sign that he was doing some intense study and was not to be disturbed except in supreme emergencies. Giving an affirmative nod to himself, ensuring all his bases were covered, Whoover leaned back out of the window and watched as his mother waved his father off, the grey Pegasus giving one of her best smiles and turning to head back inside the house. Whoover shifted his eyes upwards, moving along the street until he saw his father's flank bouncing away. With one more nod to himself and a deep breath, Whoover leapt from his window and towards the ground floor. Quickly fanning his wings outward, the young colt quickly glided to the ground and galloped forward with his hooves as the forward momentum carried him forward. Without breaking his stride or his speed, Whoover turned to his left and quickly moved up the street, tailing his father from afar. He kept his eyes narrowed and his hooves quiet as he slipped quietly up the street, hugging one of the walls of the houses to his left. His father didn't break his stride, smiling and humming as he trotted along, oblivious to the stalker watching him from the shadows of a nearby trash can. The young Whoover continued his silent hunt for a good twenty minutes, dipping back behind corners and small dumpsters whenever his father's ears perked, swearing quietly to himself about narrowly being caught. Fortunately for Whoover, his father remained none the wiser. The older colt continued his merry tune as he stepped out of the small alley-like street and onto one of the heavier trafficked streets of Canterlot. Ponies and chariots rushed this way and that, with Whooves sticking more over to one of the sides as to avoid being run over. Whoover weaved in and out of the crowd quickly, ducking and diving to avoid collision with the ruckus rushing too and fro in the streets. He was bumped slightly by an aging stallion with a simple black suit and top hat who in turn shouted towards the young colt "Watch where you're going you little runt!" The ears of Whooves suddenly perked, causing Whoover to take in a sharp intake of breath and duck his head into the swarm of the crowd. Whooves took a casual look behind him as he moved forward, his nose twitching and his eyes narrowing slightly. He continued his gaze for another three seconds before an annoyed expression passed over his face and he gave a slightly aggravated sigh. He turned back around quickly and doubled his pace, trotting towards a large, white tower in the distance. It was a fairly large tower, a giant yellow bulb resting at the top and a large winding staircase spiraling down the exterior. Whoover, finally pulling his head back up and releasing his held in breath, watched his father begin his ascent up the winding staircase. The pegasus frowned, looking towards the large tower and thinking quietly to himself 'Haven't I...seen this tower before?'. He cocked his head slightly at it as he pushed his way out of the crowd, quickly trotting towards the base of the tower. 'I could have sworn...this tower feels familiar to me...' He quickly fanned out his wings, launching himself upwards and towards the top of the staircase, aiming for the area underneath the floor. Whoover quickly turned over in the air with his back to the ground, his hooves gently pushing up against ceiling of the under area of the staircase. He flapped his wings as quietly as he could, listening as his father knocked several times on a door and cleared his throat. After a few tense moments, the sounds of a door opening were heard and a young mare's voice added to the air. "Doctor!" the unknown mare exclaimed "You're here!" Whoover felt his right eye twitch as the voice registered quickly in his head...a voice he knew all too well. "Of course Mrs.Sparkle, I did remind you that I make house calls correct?" his father replied with a humorous tone. 'Twilight Sparkle...' Whoover thought with a grimace 'What's that fool doing here...?' Twilight laughed as she opened the door up further, gestering him to come him "Of course Doctor, silly me...I do thank you for coming though, Spike does have a rather bad tendency to eat things he shouldn't." The sounds of hooves on marble were heard as Twilight went on "I would have just given him some painkillers but he was complaining about itchy eyes and his scales hurting...usually I would have read up on the symptoms and see if I couldn't treat him myself...but then again you and I haven't talked in-" The sound of her voice was muffled and tuned out as she shut the door behind her father, signalling to Whoover that his trail had ended. With a grimace still plastered on his face, Whoover let himself fall from underneath the staircase towards the ground below. He landed with a light thud, quietly walking towards a bench across the street. He sat quickly, running a hoof under his chin and sighing as he said aloud "What am I doing...? Why am I even following him?" He sighed as he looked up, watching the furious traffic move through the streets "A war...what war? Where did he get that wound from...?" Whoover muttered to himself, eying the top of the tower carefully. "What are you up to...?" Around half an hour passed as Whoover continued to stare out at the crowd, pondering and thinking over what his mother could have meant when she said 'War'. Was it a literal war...figurative war against something...or what? The pegasus sighed as he felt a small ache starting to form in his head, causing the young colt to press a hoof to his forehead and sigh. When he lowered his hoof and opened his eyes, he felt a solid lump form in his throat when he beheld his father quickly trotting down the stairs of the tower, heading right back out towards the street. Whoover sprung into action, quickly pushing his way back into the crowd behind his father who turned in an easterly direction and began his casual trot. This was in the direction of his office, Whoover knew...perhaps answers awaited him there. As the son continued to stalk the father, the crowd began to swell and get larger, indicating they were reaching the more industrial side of the city. It was here that most of the hard physical work was carried out in the city: carters, runners, merchant traders and constructional work. Whoover tried his best to keep up and caught a quick glimpse of his father only for a second before a tall stallion passed between him and Whoover. When the stallion passed...his father had disappeared. "What the..?!" Whoover exclaimed, looking around in all directions. Whoover's ears flattened as he looked all around, swearing as he found no trace of his father. The pegasus was completely caught off guard as he felt something get pushed between the feathers of his right wing, the nerves of his appendage firing off and causing him to jump in alarm. He snapped his head towards his wing, his eyes widening and his breath coming up short as he beheld a small, folded up piece of paper pressed between his wings. With a ginger pull of his teeth, Whoover quickly grasped the note and unfolded it with a quick hoof. His eyes scanned the words for only a moment before he felt a cold chill seep through his body, making him look around nervously as though he was being watched... He looked back down on the words, uncertain if they were actually real or not. How could he have known...? How was it even possible?! With a quick turn of his body, Whoover folded the note back up and pressed it under his wing, beginning a quick trot back towards his house. This move...it was clever indeed according to the pegasus...but it was only one clever move. Like a bishop attacking a pawn, Whoover would wait until the Rooks or Queen were exposed, and then...he'd strike. This thinking didn't relieve him of the fear however...the chill that had swept through him when he read the words on the note...the only words that read: "Stop following me and go home. Now."
