God-killer
By Silvertie
The chariot sailed through the air in the dead of night, as the assassin pulled the drawstring of his crossbow back with difficulty - such an archaic weapon was neither quick nor easy to use, but in his line of work, it was a blessing.
You could fold it, you could hide it, you could take the shot in a church, and the only noise would be the victim falling over, dead.
Most importantly, you could make crossbow bolts out of anything which could conceivably hold any enchantment under the thousands of suns he'd worked under.
He had dozens of names; Urcaen, Death, Omega, Assassin, to name but a few. Most were all spoken in tongues so esoteric and unique, he’d never heard them uttered by anyone else; all had been said by races and galaxies that no longer existed; none quite did his job justice.
He was an assassin the scope of which was usually only witnessed by a world once. He was an assassin without peer in thousands of existences and galaxies.
He was a god-killer, the penultimate test of a fledgling god's power and omnipotence. The elder gods sent him as their test to many deities; if they could evade death for a full year, they won, and ascended to the ranks of elder gods.
Recruitment for the elder gods had been down for the last dozen millennia; coincidentally, that was how long he'd been killing gods.
He looked up from his loaded tool, and regarded his latest environment.
The locals called it "Canterlot" - such a name tended to crop up from universe to universe. It was located in Equestria, a land of quadrupedal, pastel-colored ponies - again, such creatures were not uncommon, but he had to admit, this was the first case he'd seen where they were the dominant race.
It posed a problem for him, however; ponies had no hands or manipulators - only hooves, mouths, and magic. Blending in and using tools at the same time was a considerable challenge. Not to mention the whole magic thing – usually, that sort of thing was done with nano-machines or similar, but no; this was the real deal, miracles on demand.
On that note, he looked at his loaded crossbow with a critical eye as it floated before him, levitated by the magic innate to his guise as a Unicorn, one of the three variants of pony in Equestria.
Research suggested that ponies were not familiar with things such as weapons - bucking, biting and shoving seemed to comprise their grasp of combat. Bringing a ranged weapon to a - what did they call it, a hoof-fight - Just seemed a little unfair.
Well, he wasn't here to play fair - as the tool of the elder gods, he was practically expected to cheat, lie and steal to win.
He'd pass the crossbow off as a... something. Wind instrument? He'd ended a lot of civilizations, but musical instruments which involved blowing air though them were always there.
Wind instruments - wind instruments never changed.
======
The carriage came to rest with a gentle bump, and Turkwise the Pegasus unhitched himself from his harness, making to open the door for his passenger.
Strange guy, really; the family had been sitting down for a nice, Hearthswarming Eve dinner, when a black Unicorn falls through their ceiling with ten thousand bits and this funny suitcase.
Redd and Greene were understandably upset, but when the unicorn offered all that money in exchange for taking him to their gods... the roof was made of clouds, after all, and Frost Help had only wanted twenty bits for the loan of his carriage. They could count, and that meant profit.
Of course, Turkwise had questions for the guy - like how a Unicorn falls out of the sky and through your roof, in Cloudsdale. On the other hoof, ten grand tended to argue in the favor of shutting up and not asking questions.
He pulled open the carriage door with what he hoped was professional skill - perhaps he should get into carriage-pulling, everypony knew it was going to be Urnge who got his Dad's position at the cloud factory...
Nopony came out - was his passenger asleep? Turkwise poked his head into the passenger area, and gasped. There was nopony there; just an empty suitcase, and the sack of bits. Turkwise quickly counted out the bits, to discover it was all there - the strange Unicorn had kept his word.
He had an idea, and carefully shoved five thousand of the bits into the suitcase. He could blame the missing bits on the Unicorn being dishonest, and five thousand bits would go a long way towards setting up his carriage business...
======
The assassin moved fast - crossbow and quiver slung across his back, he'd become a Pegasus to more easily traverse the city. He doubted he'd be seen - a black shadow against the night sky, he was a phantasm's shadow.
There was no mistaking his destination - set on the side of a mountain, Canterlot Castle stuck out like a sore thumb - and it was an annual holiday tonight, as well, which meant reduced security.
It's almost like she wanted something to happen to her.
He considered his target - Princesses Celestia, Goddess of the Sun, in a world where the Sun and Moon orbited the planet. Such a truth would be laughed at, in other universes.
The God-killer soared over the palace walls, on wings of darkest ebony. He wasn't stupid - he might end civilizations by killing the very gods that kept them alive, but he wouldn't turn down the lessons they had to teach. The K'shuul and the god Nocturnal had both been fans of wearing black, and accordingly, masters of stealth and assassination. Those had been fun jobs, indeed.
He espied the palace gardens, an island of snow-less green in a sea of white-coated surfaces. It seemed that the Princess liked her garden to be in perpetual spring-time.
He landed with barely a whisper in a secluded grove in the garden, folding his wings away and shifting back to the form of a Unicorn.
He took one step forward, and regretted it - a loud SNAP shattered the silence in the garden, and he looked under-hoof - a snapped twig told him all he needed to know.
"Who's there?" A voice rang out from the garden proper, and the assassin swore quietly, seeking out an escape route.
======
"Who's there?" A dark grey unicorn in gold armor hailed the suspicious cluster of trees.
"Dude, what are you doing?" A sleepy-looking white Pegasus guard, his partner for the patrol asked lazily.
"Don't tell me you didn't hear that, Boston," responded the Unicorn guard.
"Nah Coal, didn't hear a thing," drawled Boston Bun, flicking his ear to dislodge a curious mosquito, "Y' probably just hearin' things."
Coal Shovel shook his head. "No, I heard a twig break."
"Look, Coal," Boston said, more seriously, "You're overreacting - I'll prove it. There's nothing in those trees."
Boston pushed ahead, and parted the intervening shrubs, to reveal the clearing, and...
"A lump of teak?" Coal asked, perplexed.
"Yeah, brony. See, nothin' here but us ponies and this bit o' wood."
======
The assassin hopped from bough to bough, navigating the garden at speed. The lump of wood worked as it always did – so distracted, the guards hadn't so much as blinked at his leaping from tree to tree, even when he'd conceivably been in their field of vision.
He ran out of trees, and after a brief check for more guards, made a break for the walls of the castle proper - at this time of night, Celestia should be in her chambers.
Which meant he had a brief climb ahead of him, straight up the wall, probably the most dangerous part of his assignment - black coat, white wall... he hoped nobody was paying attention.
======
"Hey, Bon-Bon, check this out."
"What is it?"
"There's somepony climbing Celestia's tower!"
"Wait, you're eying up the Princess AGAIN?"
"Oh, uh, no, I was... stargazing. Yes, stargazing."
"Stargazing with binoculars?"
"... how mad will you be if I say, yes?"
"You're absolutely terrible, Lyra. You can sleep on the couch tonight."
"But- but, it's Hearthswarming Eve, and..."
"No buts. Couch, little miss roving-eyes."
"Aw, Bon, no, please!"
======
So far, so good - this one was going to be a cinch. He put a magically-sticky hoof on the windowsill, and with a graceful motion, flipped into the darkened room, crossbow drawn and ready to fire.
Nobody home - the room was empty. Guess the job was going to involve a bit of leg-work, after all. That was fine – he liked to at least earn his pay, even if it wasn’t exactly honest work.
The slayer of gods trotted over to a desk at the wall, and pulled a drawer open, ransacking it for anything vaguely resembling information; nothing. He looked up, and noticed a piece of paper. He picked it up, and gave it a quick read.
To-Do:
Raise Sun [x]
Discuss plans for upcoming G3 with Blueblood [x]
(Note: Delegate this to somepony else next time)
Make Hearthswarming Eve appearances [x]
Cloudsdale [x]
Ponyville [x]
Manehattan [x]
Canterlot [x]
Deliver gift to Twilight Sparkle [x]
Raise Moon [x]
Double-check Moon seal integrity [x]
Attend the royal Hearthswarming Eve party [x]
Hold Hearthswarming Eve audience in throne room [ ]
The assassin smiled. An itinerary, perfect – not only had she exposed herself for the assassination, she was even telling him where she was going to be!
He put everything back the way it was, and slipped out the door – force of habit, not like this world was going to survive much longer without a god to control the Sun’s orbit.
======
“Why do I have to wear this stupid dress?” a light-grey, one-eyed Pegasus mare grumbled, picking at her puffy sleeves. The dress did not go well with her blonde mane, or her very obvious eye-patch.
“Because the big C said so, Bright,” her companion, a light-navy-blue unicorn said , dressed in a more sensible waistcoat and monocle, “you know what she’s like; all forward planning, all the time.”
“I wish she’d tell us what’s going on in her head, Donk,” bemoaned Bright Eyes, “How am I supposed to make plans without knowing what hers are? If I cross her plan, or ruin it or something… I’ll be banished! And locked away! Probably both!”
“Locked away in the place you’re banished to?” Donk raised an eyebrow.
“No, locked away, then the prison facility where I’m locked away gets banished!”
“That doesn’t seem like it would matter a lot…”
“What about a wooden prison, then banished to the Sun?! I’ll burn!” Bright placed a hoof on her chest, one good eye creased in unnecessary worry. Donk had to struggle to not roll his eyes – mares.
“You’d burn anyway – you’re a Pegasus, you can’t survive on the Su- oh. She’s here, act casual.”
“Humph,” grunted Bright, putting on a falsely cheerful face.
======
Bypassing the security had been child’s play – nobody looks up. Ever – except the Fig’shelet, a race of quadrupeds who had necks perpetually bent upwards at ninety degrees. (In which case, you just stood behind them and kept crouching.)
The assassin focused more magic into his hooves and waited – right on cue, Celestia herself walked by right below him, past the waiting audience. But no, he couldn’t take the shot here – he’d take the shot when she was in her throne itself, yes.
So many rulers and gods thought they were un-killable in those things - and yet, so many had perished so… except that one case where the god’s throne was a giant life-support. Bastard couldn’t hold out forever, it was going to give out eventually.
As the princess moved through the doorway, the assassin masked himself with an invisibility spell, and followed her through the doorway, sticking to the top of the doorframe like an insect on an overhang.
======
“You see something, Bright?”
“Yeah, thought I saw a something move on the doorway – it’s gone now, must be this damned eye of mine playing tricks on me.”
======
The princess seated herself on the throne, making herself comfortable for what would have been a long night.
The assassin didn’t get much chance to do some good with his kills, but this time, he would; he would save Celestia from the drag of listening to those nobles outside with nothing better to do than whine on an annual holiday.
Hiding behind a pillar on the ceiling, he relaxed his hold on the invisibility spell, and drew his crossbow – he’d probably get one shot, so he would make it a good one; taking the shot as the first audience walked through the throne room would be a good start.
======
“Uh,” the guard handling a list said, looking at the mare in front of him, “Cap- Lady Bright Eye…”
Bright coughed.
“Sorry, Bright Eyes. Eyes,” corrected the guard, aware of the faux pas he’d just made, “And Lord Donk Pocket - The Princess will grant you your audience next.”
Bright nodded, and advanced to the throne room – every second pony or pair in the (rather short) queue was actually part of the royal guard – for some reason, Celestia had decided that the line should be “fleshed out a little” with her veteran guard-ponies – why, she wouldn’t say. This, of course, meant greener guards elsewhere – what was she thinking? Bright’s job was hard enough without the one she was supposed to be protecting drawing pony-power away from other areas, and dragging them here!
Bright pushed open the doors with a huff of impatience, Donk in tow – her cover-story was that she was here to discuss a shortage of baked goods in her hometown of Ponyville – it was a flimsy story, Sugarcube Corner was more than capable of keeping up with demand, and anypony with half a functioning brain could see that – no, for this, she was going to use the time properly and voice her issues with royalty. This might be a monarchy, but she was Captain of the Royal Guard, and she was damned if she couldn’t speak her mind.
Wait. Her ear twitched ever so briefly, as the doors to the throne room closed with a gentle bang, and she spied something out the corner of her good eye – that blur again. She might have only had one eye, but the location of the eyes on a pony gave them a vertical peripheral vision, and she could see that something was moving about up near the top of one of the throne room pillars – hiding from Celestia. She knew better than to look, though – things had a nasty way of going south if you let the enemy know you knew they were up to something.
On the other hoof… did Celestia know about this already? Was this one of her spot-drills, a test? Or a genuine, predicted threat?
She carefully swallowed, and kept walking at her usual pace.
======
Celestia’s mane tingled – she wasn’t blind to what happened in Equestria – something was out to get her. Admittedly, she wasn’t the first pony to think so, but she was the first one to do so and be right about it all the time.
Hence the extended audiences for Hearthswarming Eve – speaking of, here came Captain Bright Eye…s. Celestia caught her internal faux pas before it got voiced – not many ponies got around so good with just one eye, so it was a bit distracting, and it just… slipped out sometimes.
She cleared her mind of the thousands of different eye-related puns which sprang, unbidden, to mind, and met the eye… no, that’s alright – she’s only got one, this isn’t an eye pun, eye shouldn’t be so sen – horseapples.
“Greetings, my loyal subjects – and what do you want for Hearthswarming Eve?” Celestia greeted the Pegasus and Unicorn cheerfully, quickly using the conversation to stop thinking of eye puns.
“Your Majesty,” Captain Bright said (Oh Me, what’s going on with the dress? Why is she wearing a dress like that?), “I have come to discuss pastry shortages in Ponyville.”
Translation: “Your Majesty, I have come to discuss the strange assignment of your royal guard on a night like tonight, when security will be at its weakest around the castle, thereby leaving you exposed to possible danger.”
Either that or she was talking about a possible string of extremely graphic, hacksaw-facilitated murders in a basement under a bakery in Ponyville.
Theory three, she wasn’t talking about anything, and sticking to the cover story like glue. Sometimes, she wished she didn’t lay such convoluted plans.
“Do go on,” Celestia prompted, eyebrow raised.
She paid attention to Bright’s ears – behavioral analysis was a hobby of hers (You find something to do in your spare time for just a little under one thousand years), and the ears tended to speak volumes about unspoken thoughts.
Flick. Twitch. Twitch. Flick. Flatten.
Celestia deciphered the code – given Bright’s usual unflappability, it meant… something invisible was sitting at the top of the third pillar from the back and she didn’t know what it was.
Thank Herself she’d had the foresight to conceal the Elements of Harmony in her mane.
======
The assassin checked the load on his crossbow one last time. One bolt, made of Null-Steel, crafted from the very void which was the firmament of all realities everywhere. And utterly immutable to a regular god or goddess, making it a very real, and very deadly bolt.
“Your Majesty, I have come to discuss…” the grey Pegasus pony on the ground said.
There, that was the cue – he would expose himself for but a brief moment, and take the shot – he was certain the god’s sense of immortality would cause the shot to hit home. It had been the case dozens of times before, and it would be this time.
Abandoning his magic to stick to the ceiling, he dropped and fell sideways, towards the center of the room; mid fall, he had a perfect bead on Celestia’s breast, a shot he’d made hundreds of times before, sometimes even blind-folded or asleep. Just a little twitch of his crossbow’s trigger, and his message was away.
Thwump
======
Sergeant Donk Pocket stifled a chuckle. Captain Bright was wearing the dress! He couldn’t believe he’d managed to talk her into that – she only needed to be in civvies, and here she was, full ball-gown.
That said, the mare was so fashion-dead, she wouldn’t know a ball-gown from a simple shift. Oh well – couldn’t have it all.
He resisted scratching the base of his horn – something was in the air, making it itch. But he dared not raise a hoof to scratch it. It might look like a salute, which would break his cover, in front of the Princess, no less, and – well, let’s say the Captain’s anxiety over banishment/imprisonment was not totally unfounded.
Thwump
The quietest sound of a taut string being released reached his ears – he’d always had sensitive ears.
What was it? A threat to the Princess, what else – damn his cover, he was going to do something about it; he couldn’t be dismissed for doing his job, surely.
But what to do? The taut string sounded like it had propelled something. Presumably something deadly to the Princess. What could he do?
He willed his magic into action, plucking out the right spell for the job – he wasn’t going to stop or deflect the projectile, he wasn’t that strong with his telekinesis. His talent was baking, after all.
No, he was going to teleport. Teleport to the one place where he could defend Celestia’s life – in front of her.
Celestia would die, over his dead body.
======
Bright’s ears picked up the Thwump of something behind her almost as quickly as Donk – but before she could take action, it all happened at once.
Thweeeeep
The thing whistled overhead, her good eye capturing an image of it for all eternity in her mind – a sinister, pitch-black shaft, flying at a good pace – sharpened at one end, and made of a material that seemed to reject virtually everything she could imagine.
Celestia saw the oncoming danger, and her horn lit up – to Bright and Celestia’s surprise, nothing happened – the magic didn’t want to stick.
Donk vanished in a flash of light and energy; Bright had a nasty feeling, and even as she opened her mouth to admonish her subordinate-
FzLASH
Donk completed his teleport.
Fthwip
The projectile completed its journey, and Donk fell to the ground with no grace whatsoever, landing with a whump at the foot of Celestia’s throne.
“DONK!”
======
The assassin’s jaw dropped, even in mid-air – how could they teleport?! This was a pre-medieval tech world, they shouldn’t have teleportation technology! And since when did teleportation fall under the aegis of Magic?
And his reaction speed! It was neuro-linked! Was the whole nation of Equestria a guise, a farce to lure the unwary like him into a trap?!
The defender! Was he a lunatic? Or a zealot? He’d reacted before the bolt had even passed over his head, instinctively teleporting to take the hit himself! Ridiculous!
The assassin snorted; no matter – Celestia had to run out of bodyguards sooner or later. Even as he fell, he loaded another bolt into the crossbow, pulling the string back with lightning speed, and firing with much less of the finesse he’d displayed before.
What a botched job, this was definitely not one of his best days.
======
Bright leapt into the air, spinning about as she searched for the assassin – Donk had sacrificed his life to buy her more time to keep Celestia alive, and she would not spend his sacrifice reck-
Thot
“AUGH!” She screamed, falling over, and landing heavily on the ground – something was in her leg, and it burned like nopony’s business. Poisoned dart? Curse? Hex?
Didn’t matter – Celestia must be defen- ah haaaa ow, argh. Attempts to even move were killing her. She looked at the offending article – the dark metal projectile. It was embedded firmly and unforgivingly in her left fore-knee.
She wasted no time, and reached down with her mouth – she clamped down on the projectile, and tried to pull – the very substance it was made of felt unnatural, like it wanted nothing more than to see her and her kind dead. The very smell of the item turned her nose – old copper, chemicals. Her teeth crawled and ached, just by touching it.
The infernal creation refused to move, rejecting her attempts to direct and manipulate it as surely as it seemed to hate everything.
Grudgingly, she acknowledged the truth – she’d failed; the Princess was on her own, now.
======
The assassin got up from where he’d landed, and surveyed his handiwork.
One dead Unicorn, one Pegasus shot in the knee. Frivolous wastes of the ammunition – one did not deploy bolts of Null-Steel on such minor targets willingly.
He pulled a third bolt out of his quiver – he had to admit, though, they were worth it. One shot, one kill… provided you hit what you were bloody aiming for. He recalled overhearing a conversation along those lines between a man who was trying to sell iron arrows, and a woefully idle merchant in the past. In any case, it was going to take about a hundred years to replace the arrows he’d used today, if he didn’t retrieve them himself.
No matter – the entire exchange so far had been barely audible, the ponies outside wouldn’t know their Princess was dead until he was long gone. He took more careful aim with one more bolt, and fired.
======
Celestia frowned – two of her guard-ponies, dead or mortally wounded (from an arrow to the knee? Really?), all in the blink of an eye, and the culprit responsible: a black Unicorn.
She didn’t have any black Unicorns – she’d never seen fit to make any pony such a dark, boring color… which meant he wasn’t a Unicorn. Or even of Equestria – an agent of the Elder Gods.
Shit was about to get magical.
A third, dark bolt flew towards her – she recognized the material, basic firmament. Null-Steel, filthy stuff – no wonder Captain Bright was unable to pull out the offending implement in her leg.
And it was pure luck that Sergeant Donk had taken the bolt meant for her.
With a flash of light, she exercised her powers to their fullest extent – she was paying full attention now, and determined to handle this. The bolt thwipped through the air where she had been – no mistake, if she’d teleported forward, it still would have caught her, Null-Steel did that.
To the side, then – she re-materialized, and re-teleported, repeating the action multiple times as the assassin fired more dark bolts; she zig-zagged forward, knowing that even a single mis-teleport would get her killed.
And with a final flash of sunlight, she finally got to where she wanted to be; standing at the foot of the steps, over the dead Sergeant’s body, and more importantly, with fully charged Elements of Harmony – they didn’t obey her as well as they would have if they’d been split between her and Luna, but they would obey her well enough to sort out this little miscreant.
Nopony attacked her little ponies. Ever.
======
The assassin cursed yet one more time – another missed shot, another wasted bolt, as the bolt flew forward, punching into the throne, pillars, and steps. This had never happened before.
Finally, she stopped moving; the assassin noted she stood still with confidence, a strange new necklace around her neck, hexagonal gem aglow with godly power.
Fine, so be it – if she thought her power was enough to stop Death himself, she could argue the point with his Null-Steel bolt.
He aimed square for the necklace, and without hesitating, fired, just as the necklace responded in kind with its own beam of multi-colored light.
He watched as his bolt hit the rainbow… and exploded into black mist that was devoured by the beam of light – he choked.
Today was a horrible, horrible day, filled with firsts – nothing was powerful enough to un-make forged Null-Steel, nothing!
He watched the beam get closer, as if in slow-motion, and the crossbow fell out of his magical grip, glow fading.
Laid low by a rainbow - how humiliating.
======
The rainbow beam slammed into the assassin, and the very thing Celestia had feared came to pass – the Elements of Harmony would not bow to her will entirely. She could wield all six, but only half were truly hers, the other three were Luna’s to bear, and she was…
The assassin – he remained fixed in the air, suspended by the power of Harmony. It was not in the Elements’ nature to kill; only imprison and purify. And she didn’t have enough power to imprison the assailant somewhere, or remove his own inherent power.
She kept up her façade that she was in total control – if there was anything she could do, it was appearances. You didn’t rule a nation for a thousand and more years without being very good at looking calm and in control.
“You. Who are you, what are you doing here?”
The assassin, surprised he wasn’t already dead, snorted, and spoke with a strange accent, like a little bit of everything, all mixed in one. “You know why, Celestia.”
“Who sent you?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Celestia humph’d. “What is your name?”
The assassin tilted his head – it comprised most of his total remaining capacity for movement. “I have no name – I don’t need one, and any who knew it are long since gone. Why should you care, anyway? I’m at your mercy, presumably mere moments away from being dead.”
“Dead? You think I’m going to kill you?” Celestia took a step back in surprise.
“You are a Goddess,” the assassin stated, “By that definition, you kill – how else did you forge this land and bring it out of the ether?”
“With love and tolerance, of course!” Celestia was taken aback. She knew other gods existed in other planes and realities, but this was a surprise – she considered herself the rule, not the exception. And she was, apparently, wrong.
“Love and tolerance?” The assassin laughed, just once. “You’ll never get far with a methodology like that. Just let me loose, so I can finish you off – I promise it shall be swift and relatively painless, unlike what will happen if a god like Khorne decides he wants a piece of your realm. Or Slaanesh, even.”
“No.” Celestia regained her composure, and straightened. “Love and Tolerance is the way… and if not that, then a little Tough Love will have to suffice.”
======
The assassin regarded his captor with feigned interest – what he was more interested in was the necklace around her neck. One gem, that flowed through six colors - six elements. He noted that three of the elements weren’t responding as strongly as the others; where the others blazed with radiant light, these merely shone.
The moment Celestia said “Love and Tolerance”, he knew the nature of the force holding him – it wasn’t straight power, like he was so accustomed to. No, it was a force of synergy – many smaller forces, working together to create the strongest barriers and holds. He wasn’t going to beat something like that by pushing against it.
He had to turn it against itself. He set his own power into action, pushing not against the synergistic power of the Elements, but sideways, putting strain on their power not to hold him, but to work together as one.
With a flash of light, his efforts were rewarded; the rainbow holding him suddenly split, as if it were water hitting a rock, six beams of light spreading outwards around him, as the hold was broken.
He scooped up his weapon and after loading one last bolt, spun and took aim, hopefully for the last time.
======
Celestia felt the feedback from the Elements – they had been defeated?!
She watched the beams of light split apart, and knew what had happened – there was too much disharmony in the elements, thanks to the reduced effectiveness of Luna’s elements, and so they had buckled when pressure had been applied in the wrong places.
The last card she had to play came to mind, and she took it without hesitation – it was a last-ditch resort, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Marshalling the power of the Elements once more, she cast one more spell – not a spell of holding, but a spell of binding. She would bind the essence of the assassin to the one jail she could reach from here with her limited power – herself.
The Elements kicked into life, and the beam hit the assassin mid-aim, turning him into a mote of light, laced with darkness and oozing dark power.
Celestia steeled herself, and drew the ball of power towards her – she would contain the assassin within herself. The danger of such a move with such a willful soul was tremendous, but, all things considered, it was an acceptable risk.
If she fell, Equestria and its inhabitants would fall within the year – she was the sole deterrent for an entire world against external powers, and she would not fail her subjects so.
======
Captain Bright Eyes watched the exchange happen in front of her; the assassin and the Princess exchanged banter for a moment, and like lightning, words turned into combat.
Just as quickly, the situation was neutralized once more, the Elements of Harmony binding the assassin in what appeared to be a malevolent ball of energy – Bright felt ill just looking at it.
Then the ball was drawn towards Celestia, who didn’t move, and Bright realized what was going on.
“No! Princess! Don’t!”
“This doesn’t… concern you, Captain!” Celestia responded, visibly fighting to remain calm; the ball redoubled its thrashing, lunging in directions only to have the Elements rein it back in.
“Equestria needs you, Celestia!”
The ball passed near her, and at the sound of her voice, made an effort to get to her. The image of Donk’s final actions appeared in her mind, and she realized the feelings that Donk had gone through, not a minute ago.
There was only one option left. Ignoring the pain of the null-bolt in her leg, Bright staggered to her hooves, limping towards the ball. If Celestia wouldn’t stop, Bright would have to stop her, for the good of herself and Equestria as a whole.
======
Celestia was having trouble with the essence of the assassin – it was unbelievably strong, much more so than she’d expect from a mortal. She knew sheer willpower and true conviction could compensate for a lack of godhood, and this assassin had it in spades.
Then she noticed Captain Bright – despite the Null-Steel’s attempts to resist being moved at all, she was moving towards the ball, and the ball had redoubled its efforts to escape her grip, into the body of Bright.
Celestia was torn – allow Bright to sacrifice herself, or intervene sacrifice her own immortal soul?
Bright made the decision for her – with a single, titanic effort, she threw herself into the air above the ball that was the assassin, and the ball seized the opportunity. She hit the ball and the assassin made his escape from the grasp of the Elements of Harmony.
======
The assassin would have laughed in amazement if he had lungs and a mouth with which to laugh. Admittedly, she was a mortal with no knowledge of how such high-level concepts like souls worked, but surely she would have had more sense to just stay away from him?
He rushed into her body, meeting little resistance as he quickly expanded to fill the space. Sure, a host could resist an unfiltered soul’s intrusion, but in such cases, it’s a game of willpower, and quite honestly, he didn’t give much for his host’s chances against him. He’d just romped through all possible barriers, after all.
Which is why it was beyond surprising when he felt the way he’d come in seal off and realized something – his host was supposed to be his castle, his fortification against Celestia…
Once again, he’d been fooled. Fooled by suicidal plays. This was no castle… it was a prison.
======
“Captain Bright!” Celestia exclaimed, dropping the power in the Elements, and rushing over to her fallen subject. Bright lay on the ground, unmoving.
As Celestia drew near, she cracked open her good eye, and focused on Celestia.
“Seal us.”
The unexpected tangent threw Celestia a little.
“Seal us both away, far away, while I can still hold him,” repeated Bright, closing her eyes again, and frowning in concentration and pain. “The sun should do nicely, destroy us both.”
“Are you sure?” Celestia asked, readying the Elements of Harmony, “Once I seal you two away, you’re not coming out until the seal expires, or you die.”
“Do it!” demanded Bright, “Before I change my mind… or have it changed for me.”
Celestia nodded, and took aim. She had a plan – Bright would not die, not for her, and not today.
“One more thing.”
“Yes, my faithful guard?”
“Donk had a filly…”
“Taken care of.”
======
Six months later
The carriage soared through the air over Ponyville, and banked to the ground, coming to a gentle rest in a designated carriage-parking area; the turquoise Pegasus pulling the vehicle detached himself from the harness, and smoothing back his mane as he pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, checked his reflection in the side of the carriage – one of his passengers today was quite a looker, couldn’t believe she was single.
Then again, she had a filly; a unicorn, no less – oh. Either an ex, or a widower. Turkwise quickly undid his mane-work; not an emotional minefield he wanted to step into.
With a now-practiced motion, he pulled the door open for his passengers, and a light-grey Pegasus mare stepped out, a small pale-purple unicorn with a blond mane riding on her back, clinging to her carrier’s almost identically blond mane.
“Say thank-you to the nice pony, muffin.”
The small filly looked at Turkwise, and smiled shyly. “Thank you…” she mumbled.
“You’re welcome,” Turkwise replied, smiling. Ever since he’d brought the carriage and started carrying passengers, he’d been on the rise – he had good luck, ponies were nice to him, and he got to travel.
All thanks to that stallion who fell through his roof that Hearthswarming Eve, all those weeks ago… one day, he’d find that pony, and say thank-you prop-
Turkwise’s train of thought was derailed as if hit by Buffalo, as he saw the elder passenger’s face – he hadn’t seen it before, because he’d only ever seen one side of her face; but now that she was moving her head about, double-checking her saddle-bags, he got a good look at her eyes.
They didn’t match in a focus sense – one seemed to stay focused on what she was looking at – bag, foal, carriage, the concourse. The other moved as if with a life of its own, constantly roving about and looking at everything else – not just a little unsettling. Turkwise stifled a shudder, and snapped a smart salute.
“Is that everything, miss?”
“Hmm…” the mare put a hoof to her chin, lost in thought, and then looked at her foal for guidance. “Muffin? Has mummy gotten everything?”
“Yes,” the foal mumbled back, shyly.
“Yes, that is everything,” the mare reported, “Thank you so much, it was a nice ride.”
“You’re welcome,” repeated Turkwise, “Please remember Turquoise Carriages for your future travel needs!”
The mare nodded, and with a small wave, wandered off to Ponyville proper. Turkwise watched her go, pulling his shades down and biting his lip as she went.
It was for the best.
======
Derpy Doo wandered through the concourse, enjoying the sun – it had been a long time since she’d come home to Ponyville. Especially after that accident the doctors said she’d had.
Nasty bump to the head, they said; ‘twas to blame for her funny eye, they said. That was fine, but her funny eye was a right bother – couldn’t see out of it, but it didn’t look broken, either. Add that to her missing depth-perception, and really short-term memory loss, and… uh…
The sun was really nice, today. Reminded her of something… the Princess? Of course, the Princess raised and lowered the sun, which was why. She wasn’t a stupid pony, now, was she?
She was so caught up in enjoying the weather, she almost walked into a lamp-post – if it weren’t for her passenger paying attention, and tugging on her mane to make her turn to the side, she would have.
“Thank you, muffin,” said Derpy, rubbing her mane.
“Mummy,” Dinky Doo replied, “Where are we going?”
Derpy stopped to think about it. “I think… Sugarcube Corner.”
“What’s that?”
“Muffin shop,” Derpy responded, promptly, “we need muffins for our house.”
“’kay,” Dinky responded, resuming her vigilant watch for oncoming obstacles while her mummy walked. She was a nice mummy, but oh pony, did she walk into a lot of things now.
The pair walked, and after some prompting from Dinky and requested directions, arrived at the biggest gingerbread house Dinky had ever seen.
Derpy didn’t need help here – she confidently pushed the door open with a tinkle from a bell from above the door, prompting a pink pony with a fluffy and equally pink mane to emerge from the kitchen in a rush.
“Hi there! OHMYGOSH, It’s… it’s… uh.” The pink pony’s exclamation of excitement rapidly dwindled to a subdued “huh”, and she shook her head. “I’m sure I know you, you live around here, don’t you?”
“I just came back!” Derpy proclaimed, proudly, “I’ve been away for a really long time!”
“Oh, wow!” the pink pony clopped her hooves together excitedly, “I should totally throw a welcome-back party for you…” her ear twitched irritably, as she failed once more to remember this mare’s name, and lost her steam. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? I’ve forgotten – which is really weird, because I don’t usually forget ponies.”
“Oh, I’m Derpy Doo. This is my daughter, Dinky Doo.” In the back of her mind, Derpy vaguely realized that this happened a fair bit – a lot more so in Canterlot, though, where more ponies had known her.
“Oh, so cute!” Pinkie squee’d, and reached behind the counter. “Here, have a free cupcake – we give one free cupcake to every new pony in town!”
“What is it?” Dinky asked, as she received the frosted treat – she was pleased to note it even had her name on it in purple icing.
“It’s like a muffin, muffin,” Derpy responded, “Only not a muffin.”
“Oh! That’s right, you’re the mare who placed the advance order for all the muffins, right?” the pink pony clopped her hooves together in satisfaction, pointing at Derpy.
“Um…” Derpy considered it – it sounded like something she’d do, if she’d thought of it. “Yes?”
“Great! Hold on a little, I’ll go get them for you!” With a rush of wind, and dislodged paper, the pink pony zipped back into the kitchen, little more than a pink blur – when she emerged, she was carrying a platter piled high with muffins – so many, the pile was almost as big as she was.
“Wow!” Dinky said, around a mouthful of cupcake, “That’s a lot of muffin!”
======
The assassin ranted, raved and strained against the bars of his prison, to no avail – he and his prison were one, and to end one would be to end the other. A perfect balance of harmony – one to push, the other to resist in equal measure. He swore, and gave up. Six months of this. Six months down, eternity to go.
“Titans devour your soul, Celestia!” he cursed, regarding the world without his prison with disinterest.
“You brought this on yourself, assassin,” a female voice responded. Suddenly, the assassin was sitting next to a grey mare with an eye-patch.
“Humph. I still cannot believe you interfered in such a way,” the assassin said, grudgingly, “Who sacrifices their very mind and soul, just for their ruler?”
“You’ve never had a ruler like the Princess, then,” replied Bright Eyes, calmly. Truth be told, she hadn’t expected Celestia to move in such a way.
“You would render yourself into a mentally handicapped imitation of your former life, just to make sure I stay locked up,” the assassin recapped, “I must concede, your dedication to your job is formidable.”
“You would too, if your Princess was as kind and benevolent as ours.”
“Doubtful – I killed my God with my own two hands, and I was glad of it.”
“Hmm… I’ve told you an awful lot about my life… how about you tell me something of yourself?”
“Why are you making an effort like this? Just leave me to sit out the rest of eternity in peace.”
“That’s just it – no pony is an island, and if we’re going to be ‘here for eternity’, I want to at least be friends.”
The assassin remained silent.
“Not even your name?”
“None have spoken my name for over three thousand years, and none shall start today.”
“Well, I do have eternity, after all – I hope you like muffins.”
“I despise the things, in all ways – the texture, the taste… only good for holding poisons. Why?”
“Because I always did.”
The assassin paid more attention to the world outside his moving prison – they were in what looked like a confectionary store, and in front of them –
There was once a race of strange, insect-like creatures, who spoke in clicks that no equine throat could ever emulate – it didn’t stop the assassin from utilizing some of their more choice swear-words.
======
“I was saying, there’s no way you could keep this many muffins fresh! I was so sure you were going to have a party!”
Derpy’s ears drooped, and she looked at the ground. Yeah, this definitely sounded like a shortcoming that she would have been responsible for – this sort of thing was happening a lot more, these days.
“Well,” the pink pony continued, trying to cheer up the grey mare, and looking about surreptitiously, “It’s probably going to be quiet today… and you’ve got all these muffins… how about we have a muffin binge?”
“Muffin binge?” Derpy perked up a little, as did Dinky – the two loved muffins more than anything, and a ‘Binge’ sounded interesting… fun, even.
“Yeah!” the pink pony began to bounce. “We’ll sit here, and we’ll eat muffins until we can’t eat any more! And then we will! Eat more, that is!”
Eating until you couldn’t eat any more muffins? Derpy was skeptical – such a thing was not possible, and she informed the pink pony so, to agreement from her daughter.
“Really?” the pink pony reached under the table they were sitting around, and pulled out a black beret, affixing the item to her head. “Let’s put that to the test – three, two, one, go!”
The three ponies wasted no time, getting stuck into the pile – there really were a lot of muffins, and just three ponies with one afternoon to waste.
======
Amidst the flying muffin debris, one of Derpy’s eyes rolled about in its socket in a manner which implied it was frantic… which is inherently silly, because eyeballs can’t be frantic.
And if somepony were to just happen to look straight into that eye, they might have seen the faintest reflection of a black unicorn, screaming in frustration and terror as he was subjected to a new form of torture – Equestrian Muffin-boarding.
It was going to be a long eternity.
