The Land With The Hidden Bladeby Farty16Chapters2|The Stranger with Potential3|The Stranger with Friends1|The Stranger without a Past2|The Stranger with PotentialSaving Blade was supposed to be just his title but after learning that every pony in Equestria follows the same pattern, he thought it’d be easier to have that as his name. Saving Blade, that was his name now. It was strange to think about. He felt like a newborn…foal. He almost said- What was he going to say again? Inside, Blade growled in frustration. Every time his train of thought would lead back to his old past, it was immediately blocked. So far his name and his “cutie mark” have given a slight clue to who he is. ‘Strange,’ he thought, ‘I remembered I knew things only a few would know and now…’ -and now what? Curses. After his encounter with Celestia, he was sent to the medical facilities to check up on his health, physically and mentally. “Physically, you’re in perfect shape. Better than most earth ponies are in any case,” one of the doctors said. “Mentally, you’re as empty as a newborn foal,” another added. Blade took that to mind. His body was well developed, just as it was supposed to be. How he sensed that he did not care anymore. Such thoughts just cause him pain. After the examination he asked to be directed to somewhere that can fill his mind with knowledge. Anything. They took him to the library, where he began to collect books. He started early in the morning. It’s now sunset and large stacks of big, fat, god-killing books. On the left, were small stacks, which are the ones Blade hasn’t read yet. On the right, however, are books both numerous and bloated that could give a year-long nightmare to any student. During that time of reading that nopony should ever subject them to, Blade learned of math, science, literature. These things felt easy for him to grasp. He also learned of Equestria. Equestria’s history can be summed up in centuries of peace, culture and love. Unaffected by wars except for a few powerful beings here and there in the history books. Blade felt glad to be in such a place of harmony. A side of him was also envious, knowing almost subconsciously that the place where he came from wasn’t as peaceful. There were also the books that held combat and military techniques. Blade felt something tug within him, prompting him to read books on combat. Another part of him urged him to read about the society so that he can blend in. What spawned these desires was another of the many things Blade doesn’t know and instead let it lead him. The military books also intrigued Blade. How can a nation built upon the foundations of peace and love contain detailed information about swords, axes, bows and other things related to removal of life? Upon inspecting some of the older books, it became clear that the centuries of peace came at a risky stalemate. The Griffin Empire. Natural predators with an aggressive society, all information concerning them and Equestria pointed to their mastery of warfare, political and physical. They lacked magic which prompted advancement in technology and gave them weapons of war that terrified the two princesses. What kept the griffins from stepping into Equestrian soil was the global importance of the princesses who held the celestial bodies in place. The other thing that kept them out was the Equestrian military. Ponies aren’t born fighters but they had magic; magic was powerful indeed. It interested him of the latent magic within everypony. Earth ponies, the breed he was classified as, have a way with the soil and nature. They also had a telekinetic field on their hooves which lets them carry things. Blade stared at his hoof and tried to flip a page. Indeed, the paper stuck to his hoof like a hand would have. Blade didn’t notice it until now because he was used to such an action- How did he know how to use a hand in the first place? What was a hand anyway? He was a pony, not a- “Horseapples,” he muttered under his breath. Every single frickin’ time. “Pardon, sir?” asked somepony from behind him. Blade turned to see what was supposed to be the librarian here. She had a violet coat and slate gray mane and tail. Her storm blue eyes were looking at him with concern. Further observation showed that her cutie mark was a heart broken in two, the color faded and the cracks jagged. The image provoked sadness and pity for the pony, as well as curiosity. "How is it that the castle librarian’s cutie mark is a broken heart?” He asked. The violet mare raised an eyebrow at this, but answered anyway. “Written Fiction's the librarian here, mister. I'm his assistant. You must be the Hillborn, right?” Blade has never heard of that title. Using common sense it seems that he arrived here on a hill that much is certain. There could also be the off-chance that a Hillborn is somepony else. “I am not sure dear, would you mind refreshing my memory? I only remembered awakening in Celestia’s room,” The mare blushed at this. “We didn’t do that thing you think we did.” He stated quickly and flatly as he could, but a blush also formed on his face. "Well, the day was all fine and good and then suddenly, a pillar of light landed on Visitor's Hill. A few seconds later, the light disappeared and you were there. The guards dragged you to Her Majesty so she can figure out what to do with you. I asked a few of them and they said you screamed weird random words. Being found on a hill, I guess people call you the Hillborn now." Blade’s left ear twitched. It had never twitched before, so it must mean something significant. “What were those words?” The mare appeared thoughtful for a moment before speaking “I think I recall you saying ‘Connor’, ‘Haytham’, ‘Templar’,‘Assassin’-” “Enough,” Blade whispered breathily. He was panting hard now, sweat beading on his face. Each and every one of those words was like a chisel pounding on him. They were painful to hear, yet slight recollection accompanied each one. “I think I have read enough for one day. Thank you, misses?” “Broken Heart,” she said. “What’s your name?” Inside, Blade is destroying his face with a block of steel. He forgot manners. From whatever place he came from, losing posture or manners can blow away cover and destroy your plans. Saving Blade considered where that deceitful motivation came from, and shrugged it off as ‘hulabaloo from the past’. Outside, Blade gave a tranquil smile. “My name is Saving Blade. Thank you for asking.” He started to walk towards the exit before stopping to look back at Broken Heart. “Would you tell me where the castle gardens are?” “Just go to the left until you go outside, then you will see it as you go.” “Thank you.” He trotted forth, admiring the castle’s design and feel. While it is intimidating in a way, its colors a bright and people move to and fro throughout the hallways. Blade smiled peacefully, a carefree smile on his face. He nodded and said “hello” to many passer-by’s. He was curious what this placed looked like apart from the inside of the castle. He knew from the windows here and there Canterlot was the hub of Equestria, and the history books supported this heavily. From there he saw busy streets and ponies wearing sophisticated clothing with heads held high with self-importance. Self-importance breeds arrogance. Arrogance breeds corruption. Blade wondered what kept them all in line. Is Celestia’s power really as far reaching to them that they wouldn’t do things when nobody’s looking? Who is tasked to making sure that none of them go too far? Blade knows that wherever he came from, they had an organization for that. After several minutes of trotting through the huge corridors, Blade finally got out of the castle. His hooves were on grass and the sky was blue, white clouds floating immobile on the sky. It felt slightly strange to Blade. ‘Those clouds are supposed to move,’ an instinctive part of him said. He turned his gaze back to the ground. The gardens were beautiful. Trees and bushes were aligned and trimmed. A dirt path was visible and clean. He began trotting towards the garden. Stopping near a tree, he studied it for a moment. He placed a hoof on its trunk and slowly a sense of instinct returned to him. He clambered up on the trunk until he stood on a branch. As a pony, standing on it with four hooves was tough. He took hold of the main trunk with his forehooves and shakily got up on his hindlegs. Spreading his forelegs on his sides for balance, he walked slowly but surely, eyes trained on one hoof as it moves past the other. Blade saw another branch and with an effort, he jumped to it. It was a split-second moment where he was flying. He was absolutely free, away from gravity and force. The world seemed to be full of possibilities in a span of that moment and just as fast, disappeared as his hooves landed on the branch. He was breathing heavily now, sweat on every corner of his body. He placed a hoof on a trunk for balance as he regained the air from the jump. He continued to jump from branch to branch, savoring every moment that each jump gave him. Several hours of tree-jumping later, a small crowd had gathered to watch the brown pony which came from nowhere fly across the castle gardens. They followed him wherever he went. Blade looked below him to see a group of ponies trying to keep up with him. He felt a devious thought enter his mind. ‘Time to have a little bit of fun,’ he thought as he abruptly jumped left to a forked trunk and swung right from a branch from above. He zigged and zagged in an almost random fashion, keeping his movements unpredictable but still heading in a general direction. The crowd was full of gasps, sweat and dissapointment as they failed to keep up with Saving Blade. Some tried to go up the trees as he had but failed, their bodies unused to bipedal movement. Blade laughed jovially, a smile on his face. He jumped and swung from tree to branch to trunk with ease that came from a body used to years of movement. ‘What years-’ the thought came unbidden and made him lose his hold on a branch. His swing foiled by himself, he fell to the dirt on his rump with a dull thump. He shakily stood up, shocked from the fall. It took another second for him to notice he was standing on his hind legs; and it felt completely natural. Confusion swirled around him. Shouldn’t he be on all fours? “There he is!” a voice announced from somewhere back. Blade didn’t have time to consider his thoughts and ran in surprise. He jumped inside a nearby bush, eyes warily searching for his pursuers, body ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Why was he hiding? He released the tension from his body. These people were friendly and he didn’t have any reason to hide. He slowly walked out of the bush to see a crowd of ponies stare at him strangely? “What?” Blade asked but then he saw it. He was still standing upright. He went down on all fours, the feeling both being strange yet natural. The crowd was looking at him with curiosity and some even fear. How can this pony bend his forelegs like that? Indeed, Blade’s front legs were twisted in a human fashion that would have normally required breaking a bone or two. Murmurs went into the crowd. Blade studied the gathering of ponies. The nobles were easily identifiable; they wore colorful or heavily designed clothing that covered a large portion of their bodies. Those that showed their cutie marks often, if not all held an image of a star or something similarly vague. There were also worker ponies in the gathering. The crowd contained a dozen or lesser ponies but as if there is a barrier that split the group into two. On the one side clustered were the noble ponies. On the other were the workers. Their cutie marks held something one could actually do for a living. He spotted a broom, scissors and even strangely a whistle on their marks. Lastly were the guards. They were colored and dressed similarly with their coats being white and having golden armor. They even shared a neutral yet alert expression. The only thing that differentiated them from each other was a small color piece of cloth hanging below their golden armor that either signified rank or duty. There were only two guardsponies within the dozen or so crowd. The ponies felt Saving Blade’s scrutiny and slowly dispersed, a few nobleponies giving suspicious glances at Blade before leaving. He sighed in relief from the removal of attention. He felt naked and exposed at such a large number of people focused on him. He thought about continuing his climb but rather thought against it. He was in a strange land and he will make himself harder for being even stranger; He was a stranger being strange in a strange new world. So strange, this predicament he is in. Thinking back of his interest in combat, he decided to wander aimlessly until he found the barracks. Blade didn’t care that he ended up in the land of rainbows and happiness. As long as there is a big-flank castle with snot-nosed nobles, there’s bound to be guards all over the place. Blade continued to trot in the gardens, which had a calming effect on him. Sure enough he saw spiked metal fences where the garden ended. Looking at the exit, he thought of asking for directions when he heard hooves stomping in unison. His thoughts were verified when he heard the drill sergeant shouting at the recruits. “Are you guards or are you foals!? Seriously, you weak-legged dandelions can’t make the ground tremble? And you expect to make ponies tremble? Shame! Repeat!” a loud muscular voice yelled. “Sir Yes sir!” the chorus of male voices returned the favor. Saving Blade smiled as he approached a large stone clearing where 4 dozen or so ponies were doing a practice routine. All of them were sweating and faces contorted in pain and fatigue. Some held more neutral expressions that was a preview of the royal guards they will soon become. He was now sitting on a stone bench as he continued to watch the exercise. A few minutes later he was approached by the drill sergeant. He was a large earth pony with muscles that actually bulged. He was bleach white with a blond mane and red eyes that gave him an intimidating look. Suddenly he was ripped back to another place and another time. The air stank of sweat and wood. The ponies were replaced by civilians mulling around and the earth pony turned into a large uniformed man that stood over him, holding an axe that complimented his size. “No hooded killer can get through a Hessian,” grunted the man as he lifted his axe to swing it. As it fell down Saving Blade was sent back to be face to face with the big pony, who seemed quite irritated. “Distracted,” - The pony gave a short chuckle - “I said: ‘Would you like to spar with me?’ You seem to have good muscles and you walk with nice balance. I want to give my boys a show to lift their spirits up a bit.” He said. Saving Blade blinked in confusion before nodding with enthusiasm. Whatever that vision was, he’d best forget it for now. He stood from the bench and approached the sergeant, who was at a space in the clearing away from the trainees but still visible to them. The sergeant cracked his knuckles...or hooves. “Tell me when to step so I won’t break any bones,” he smiled devilishly. Blade gave an even more devilish smile and blew some hair off his eyes. “At least give me your name before I knock it out of you.” The sergeant chuckled. “This one’s got guts!” he told the trainees. They smiled and bits were flying into different sets of hooves as bets were being placed. The sergeant looked back at Saving Blade. “Name’s Macetera but you can call me Big Mace.” He added, and then winked. As if by some unspoken rule, the two ponies circled each other. Blade studied his opponent. It’s obvious that his punches will hurt like hell if he lets it through his defenses. He’d best be dodging and using his smaller size to outmaneuver him. Big Mace made the first move, charging towards Blade to ram him with his large head. Blade dodged to the right and suddenly the scene changed. He was back in another world once again. The Hessian recovered and began to walk towards him to swing his axe once again. Blade had no time to wonder, only to react. He went under the tall man’s guard and punched him hard in the gut. He followed up by landing calculated blows on several parts of the Hessian’s body. The axe swing flew away as the Hessian toppled down to be beaten bloody by Blade. After he was done with him, it only took a split second of reaction before getting slammed in the head by a large white pony as his world spins back into the match. Miraculously, he dodged Big Mace’s charge but the second one got him flat in the stomach. Cheers erupted from the trainees for their drill sergeant. Macetera took a moment to glance in their direction to smile, giving Blade the chance to stand up and recover from the blow. Blade ran on two legs, using his remaining hooves to smack right into Mace’s jaw. With a grunt, the drill sergeant returned the favor with another blow. Soon the entire match became a work of art and wonder for the trainees as two ponies, one large and muscled and the other agile and on two legs, duke it out with punches and and blocks, counters and locks and lods of other moves the royal guard haven’t been taught yet. Many trainees switched their bet to Blade. It was a dual sight for them. This was the first time they saw their drill sergeant to be actually giving a bucking effort and barely holding on. On the other hoof, a few trainees stared dumbly at Saving Blade who was twirling, kicking, jumping and punching like some acrobat. Soon the battle ended with a stalemate as both Macetera and Saving Blade lied down on the cold stone ground and panted heavily as their bathed in their own sweat. “Th-that was amazing,” Big Mace panted out. Blade could only nod in agreement. After a moment of rest, Macetara stood up and offered a hoof at Saving Blade. “We should do that again sometime.” “Agreed.” Blade smiled. He felt that he made his first actual friend in this strange world. 3|The Stranger with Friends“So you’re the Hillborn!” Big Mace glanced at Blade, who was busy inspecting his front legs. How he twisted his joints was a mystery and by common sense, should have been impossible for him to do. Blade took a good minute of fruitless questioning. A chuckle from Macetera brought Saving Blade back to the present. They were in Donut Joe, a bakery owned by a Pony Joe who is the eldest son of Daddy Joe and Momma Joe with two brothers named Pizza Joe and Java Joe and a sister named Joanna, much to the disappointment of the Joe family. At first they thought she was just joeking around but well- I agree; that pun was stupid. It was not punny at all. Back to Saving Blade. They were in one of the sofa tables and were eating from a box of different flavored donuts with each varying colors. It was a donut set called the ‘Elements of Yummy’. While it did kinda sounds like a child made it, it was based off the Elements of Harmony. Big Macetera was snacking on an orange-frosted donut that had yellow sprinkles and apple filling inside. “Still distracted?” he said dryly before tiredly shaking his head with a smile. “When you get stuck in one of those bouts of blank-eyed episodes, tell me first. I don’t want to look like a fool talking to a vegetable, Hillborn.” “Don’t call me that,” Saving Blade said, irritated at the title. On the way here he kept hearing loud whispers and murmurs of “That’s the Hillborn,” or “The Hillborn’s here,” and even heard one say “Hillborn showoff,” “Care to explain, Hillborn?” Macetera asked with a grin on his face. “Don’t call me Hillborn. I wasn’t born on a hill and it sounds stupid,” Blade said with even more irritation. Macetera raised his hooves up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ve heard the stories and I’ve seen a pillar of light during my patrol. Don’t expect anybody to react lightly to someone that came from a light from the sky,” Mace put his hooves down and ate the last bit of the donut he had earlier. “I guess.” A silence took over the two as Blade reached for a donut with rainbow colored frosting. His hoof was slapped back by Mace’s as he grabbed the donut and took a bite from it. “Hey! I was going to eat that,” Blade complained. “I bought the box,” Macetera stuck his tongue out childishly. “What do these donuts represent anyways?” Saving Blade asked. Mace raised an eyebrow at him. “And you say you weren’t born on that hill,” he muttered. “Blade, these donuts are based off the Elements of Harmony. You know the 6 mares that single-handedly defeated Nightmare Moon and Discord? That’s them: Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rarity; there cutie marks can be found on this box for Pete’s sake!” a pony coughed behind them and Joe was looking at Macetera with a raised eyebrow. “Err, hi Joe. Sorry ‘bout your cousin.” Macetera showed Blade the back of the box that held the six cutie marks of the named ponies as Pony Joe walked away. “Some feeling tells me that these names should be relevant to me.” “Aww come on! Not a barest thought?” Saving Blade shook his head at the question, which prompted Macetera to face-hoof himself. It was a tradition as old as Equestria itself. After that Macetera showed Saving Blade whose colors and cutie marks belonged to whom. The rainbow colored donut was the Rainbow Dash one and once Saving Blade got to try it, it tasted of different fruits that blended together…awesomely. “I hate to be bias but the Dash donuts are 20% cooler,” Macetera said with confidence. “Fluttershy is best donut!” shouted a pony from one of the seats near the door. “Says the minority!” Mace shouted back. The rest of the patrons silenced the two ponies with a unified “Shh!” Blade had to smile inside. During the training routine, Macetera was an iron-back shouting drill sergeant that held all appearances of discipline and strictness. Only in times like now and a several conversations with the trainees showed Mace’s friendly, fun-loving side. “He pushes to our limits every single day but cools us off every time,” a trainee by the name of Silent Death the 16th told him. Another pony by the name of Poison Gas agreed with this. His thoughts then returned to their spar in the training grounds. His mind sent him to another place and time, fighting a different opponent and species. Saving Blade put a hoof to his forehead as a headache started to form. “You alright, Blade?” Macetera looked at Blade with slight concern creasing his features. Blade waved a hoof at him. “I’m fine, seriously.” “If you say so,” Macetera said cautiously as he picked up the box handles with his teeth. “Let’s go, Blade,” Macetera said through clenched teeth over the box handle. Blade understood and nodded, dropping down from the chair and watched Mace wore his guard body armor that he gave to Joe as they came in and hung the box on one of its saddlebag holders. Macetera caught Saving Blade’s gaze and smiled. “Perks of being a guard.” Blade only nodded. Walking back to the castle, Blade and Macetera passed through several shops and vendors with three types of ponies walking around. The nobles who always wore fancy clothing as well as dignified postures. The working ponies with normal clothes and professions. Lastly the guards, who patrol the streets with a vigilant gaze for any troublemaker. A flicker of movement caught Blade’s eye. He looked back at the direction of the movement and saw a dull blue pony snatch a few bits from a mare’s saddlepurse. He narrowed his eyes, wondering why the guards aren’t doing anything to stop him. He went towards the thief’s direction, earning a confused look from Macetera who followed behind him. “Where in Equestria are you going, Blade?” Saving Blade shushed the question before pointing towards the thief, who was now stealing golden goods from the purse. Still, nopony noticed. Macetera nodded. “A sneak-thief; there are many of his kind here.” “Why aren’t the guards doing anything?” “They actually do things to prevent this but the trouble is that ponies like these blend into crowds so easily it’s hard for a guard to spot him or her. The job gets even harder when you have reflective gold armor that alerts the thief before you even see him.” “He’s in a clearing!” “A mass of ponies can form a wall that blocks your view, Blade.” “I’ll stop him then,” Blade growled and started to walk towards the thief, who caught his eye and started to run. Body tensing to chase after him, a strong hoof rested firmly on his shoulder. Blade looked back at Macetera. “Let him go. Did you look at the pony he was stealing from? She’s no more a bandit than he. Watch,” Macetera pointed at the mare that bore all the signs of nobility. She was talking to a street vendor that sold fruit baskets. “Go nearer; hear their conversation.” Mace instructed Blade. Blade nodded and went behind the noblemare, pretending to wait in line. “Madam, this apple basket only costs 10 bits. If you can just reconsider-” “2 bits for the basket, or none at all,” the noblemare coldly replied. “How about 5 bits? Please Madam, I have a family to feed-” “Your impudence costs me time. I will buy it for one bit. That is my final offer.” The vendor sighed dejectedly with wet eyes, giving the basket to the noblemare who threw a bit on the vendor’s stall, which he held in both hands. “This will buy an apple, at least…” the vendor sighed, letting a tear drop down his face when small trickles of water dropped from the sky, hiding the tears of the now wet vendor. A hoodlum ran over a stack of baskets, knocking it over as a royal guard chased him from behind. The vendor went to the fallen baskets and began re-stacking them. Macetera went over to Blade, the pair looking at the vendor with pity. “There’s a saying: ‘The hoof of a thief can steal five coins; the word of a noble can steal five futures.’” Blade looked at Macetera and the vendor. He nodded to himself. “Mace, can you lend me 9 coins?” Blade asked. Mace gave Saving Blade a questioning look. “I know what you want to do; bits aren’t simply yours to give away. Don’t be naïve about the world and let’s get back to the castle. The rain’s starting to grow stronger.” “I will not pass up an opportunity to right a wrong. Either you will give me 9 coins or I will find it elsewhere,” Blade glared at Macetera who glared back but quickly sighing and giving 9 bits from his pack to Blade. “Thank you,” Blade told Mace. Mace grunted in affirmative. Saving Blade walked over to the vendor and helped him stack the remaining baskets that fell down. The vendor looked at Blade with wonder. “Celestia bless you, stranger,” the vendor said. Blade only smiled at him and nodded before getting the last basket and stacking it. “What is your name?” Blade asked. “It’d be Golden Stall, sir.” Blade gave 9 bits in Golden Stall’s hands; Stall blinked in surprise. “I can’t accept this, sir. If you want I could give you a basket for it-” “No need. I saw what the noblemare did to you. Think of this as compensation for your trouble.” Golden Stall was looking at him with adoration and looked at the 9 bits on his hooves. The rain was starting to pick up, drenching them further, but Blade could still see new tears forming in Stall’s eyes. “I-I will repay this! I swear to Celestia’s shiny rump I shall!” He proclaimed. Blade laughed, the first time he had laughed here in Equestria. “Thank you, Golden Stall.” Saving Blade said with heartfelt appreciation for the vendor’s words. “No, I swear it! Give me your name, good saint! I will never forget you, your face and at a call I will come to your aid!” For a basket vendor, he’d make a great drama king. “If you insist, I will keep your promise in mind. My name is Saving Blade and I hope we will meet again.” “4 bits for my little Silver! 3 bits for my wife! 2 bits to cider- er rent! Yes!” Golden Stall shouted merrily as Blade walked away, feeling a great sense of pride fill him. Mace stood where he was and the two continued walking to the castle. “I’m soaked,” Mace complained several times throughout the walk. When they arrived at the castle, Saving Blade immediately ran to the room he was given, took a shower and laid on his bed for a while. Thinking of what to do, he went back towards the library to find that the books he gathered earlier were still there. He picked up where he left off, at latent pony magicks. After burning through that book, he moved over to the next one which was titled “Hoof Blocks for Idiots” and after that another one named “Avatar Aang: The Last Ponybender” which described the unique bone formation on the front hooves that allowed almost 360 degree rotation. The more strenuous angles required more practice. He decided to borrow this book since it can explain how his hooves do their strange movements. After putting all the books back in their respective places, Saving Blade went back to find Broken Heart, seeing that he doesn't even know what Written Fiction looks like. After combing through the rows and rows of bookshelves he finally found the violet pony rearranging some books on ground level. She glanced at me and gave a small smile. “Done reading? Did you put them back?” She asked. “Yes I did,” I replied with a small smile. “Whew! I hate putting them back!” She grinned at me. I showed her the Ponybending book and she looked at it with an eyebrow raised. “What did you want me to do with this?” “I’d like to borrow it.” “You’d better see Writ then,” Broken Heart led Blade to the front desk of the library and knocked on the door beside it. “Writ, the Hillborn wants to borrow a book,” Broken Heart told him. “Alright then, come in.” An old and raspy voice replied back from behind the door. Broken Heart put a hoof on the door and opened it. “You first,” she said. As Blade put his hoof inside his left ear twitched. He immediately took a step back just in the nick of time. Broken Heart gasped in surprise as the floor opened and spikes rose up to floor level, probably impaling Blade if it weren’t for his reaction. “What in Celestia’s name was that for, Writ?” Broken Heart yelled at the other pony, who stepped into view as the spikes receded into the ground. He was a blue unicorn with a black mane with a few grey lines here and there. His steps were slow and weary, showing his age. He wore reading glasses that further made him look older. His cutie mark was a feather quill with a royal blue-and-yellow tiger stripe pattern. “Wasn’t that the signal for ‘Kill the intruder’?” Written Fiction asked. Broken Heart groaned in frustration. “No, you old crick in the back! We agreed to stop using those codes last week!” “Well pardon me for not being a perky youngster that rules an old man’s life like some whip-wielding mistress!” Writ retorted. Broken Heart face-hooved and shook her head. “Why do I keep up with this horseapples…” she muttered under her breath. Writ looked at Broken Heart sternly from inside the room. “Language, young apprentice!” As if for the first time he noticed Saving Blade, who watched the whole scene with relief of being alive, anger at almost dying and humor at their exchange. “Oh hello there! You must be the Hillborn my no good apprentice” –who was glaring at him- “was talking about! Please, come in! It’s safe now, at least I think it is…” Saving Blade took a cautious step forward, waiting to see if a giant dragon would chomp off his head from his shoulders or something of the sort. Nothing happened. Relieved but still alert for any traps, Saving Blade walked inside, along with Broken Heart behind him. It was not -suffice to say- a room meant to be inside a library. Weapon racks lined the walls. Chains and blades and other metal items of death lined the surface of a long table on another wall. A large banner of a strange symbol was the center of the room’s attention. A hooded outfit is put on display on the center of the room. Saving Blade felt a strange wave of nostalgia overcome him. This setting was familiar yet still out of reach for his conscious mind. The nostalgia and unfamiliarity mixed together to form an emotion Blade knows not the name of. “Err, Writ?” asked Broken Heart, who was staring at the scene in silent alarm. “Shouldn’t all this be hidden? He’s not –you know- one of us.” She said that word with a tinge of panic. “Don’t worry I won’t speak about this,” Saving Blade said defensively. He felt offended that they believed him to divulge secrets so easily. “I don’t know why but I feel kind of familiar to this place…” his voice slowly dropped to whispered muttering at the end. “I believe I know the cause of your feelings,” Writ said as he trotted over with a large book floating behind him as well as a flying feather quill that is a copy of his cutie mark. “Tell me, Hillborn,” he asked before blowing the dust from the large tome’s cover. Still floating, the book opened itself to Writ and started to nod and murmur to nopony in particular. “Do you suffer bouts of flashbacks into a place different from Equestria entirely, but similar to the circumstances you find yourself in?” Rapidly the scene changed. It smelled of wood, dirt and dust. A man was before him, wearing a hooded outfit similar to the one in Writ’s room. “Apprentice, are you ready to take on our Order’s responsibilities?” the man asked. “I do,” said Saving Blade. The scene changed back to Equestria once more. “I see you have that look in your eyes. What words come to mind when I say Asassin?” He asked, his form melding from the hooded man to the blue unicorn in Blade’s eyes. He also heard a different question: “What is the Creed’s Maxim?” “Nothing is true; everything is permitted,” answered Saving Blade, effectively answering both questions. “I see this is the case then,” Writ said. “With the power invested in me,” the other person intoned, “Welcome to the Order of Assassins.” Said both Writ and the person in the same time. “Welcome back,” Writ said with a smile. Broken Heart was in the background, mouth hanging open. -TLWTHB- “I can’t BUCKING believe it!” Broken Heart shouted. Writ glared at her. “Language, young apprentice-” “Shut up for a minute, will you, old man?” She let out a growl and stomped on the ground with as much force as she can muster. “I have been your apprentice for, what? 10 years? Now this guy comes along,” –she pointed at Hidden Blade, who looked up at her from inspecting one of the swords on the weapons rack- “and suddenly we’re all buddy buddy and HE becomes an Assassin lickety-split? YOU CAN’T BRING BACK 10 YEARS!” she yelled at him. Written Fiction’s eyes held anger but soon quickly dispersed as he breathed out a weary sigh. “Ten years of apprenticeship and you still let your temper take hold of you,” He snapped back at her. Noticing this, her ears lowered and looked down shamefully. “I am sorry, Master.” “Good; I thought for a minute there you’ve forgotten your place.” his voice was stern, yet softer. It was clear that he had this talk with her so many times already. “Will never happen again master,” droned out Broken Heart as she found a clean rag and started cleaning the gear; it was clear that she had done this so many times as well. Written Fiction turned back to Saving Blade, who was strapping on a hidden blade on his right hoof. Writ’s eyes wandered over to the Ponybending book lying on one of the gadget tables. “I guess you know how to Ponybend?” Writ inquired. Saving Blade only shook his head. “I wanted to borrow it so I can learn how to, but so far I can do what the book teaches fairly easily,” Saving Blade demonstrated this by standing on hind legs and using his forelegs similarly to a human. Through some instinctive knowledge, he slid open the hidden blade and stabbed at the air with it in one fluid movement. “Cool! I could never open that thing!” Broken Heart looked up at Blade from cleaning a chain. Written gave her a look and she went back to cleaning. “In terms of training and physical combat your past live has provided you very well, Saving Blade,” Writ noted. “But you lack knowledge, and you need to learn of Equestria, both past and present.” With magic he floated the large book towards Saving Blade. It was titled ‘The True History of Equestria’. It was thicker than Saving Blade’s hoof, to say the least. “Start with the past,” Writ said as he walked outside towards the library. Saving Blade swore the old pony chuckling silently. “I remember my time reading that old thing.” Broken Heart laughed as she cleaned an old knife blade. “Aw shut it, apprentice.” “Alright, alright.” 1|The Stranger without a PastHe felt nothing. It was as if he was merely floating forever, looking at a future of endless boredom. ‘So this is what death feels like’ he thought, ‘I wonder what-‘ Wonder…what? At that moment he felt his memories disappear. The experience was horrifying yet relieving. Imagine having a library. Now think of all the books it contained become blank. He felt that. He knew he had memories but now they were all gone. He had a name once. He had forgotten. He did not have a body, but he recalled blood. His muscle memory held a certain control and discipline. Every part of his being was made to kill; to fight; to lie; to hide; to deceive- -To assassinate. A faint thought briefly passed over his ethereal vision. It was a painting. Frameless, it appeared simple from a mere look, but he felt a strong mix of emotions flood through him as it appeared. It was a picture of a man, his wife and his child. His precious child. ‘Connor’, he whispered, although it was mere thought considering he had no mouth to speak with. A light appeared on the sky of the nothingness. It was blinding, growing larger and larger by the second. He noticed he was going nearer towards it and it was not enlarging. Soon his essence, in whatever form it possessed, was surrounded by the bright light. All around him blank white stared back. And then it became dark again but this time, accompanied by something else. It was the feel of sunlight on his face. -TLWTHB- “Wakey-wakey my little pony” said a female voice. At first he thought it was… Who was he thinking about again? He shook the thought aside for a moment and opened his eyes. He was aware he was on a very comfy bed. It was big and was very soft. The designs on it were made with gold and held gems. He immediately thought of royalty. His suspicions were proven correct. On his right was a wooden end table that had golden designs only a noble or any rich man can afford. On its surface was a beautiful tiara. It was obviously for a monarch, or a king. He was suddenly imbued with dislike for royalty. Nobody deserved to have control over another’s actions; no matter how righteous they may present their cause to be. A rational side of his mind told him that it was a tiara and unless this said king liked to do and wear unspeakable things in the dead of night, the headwear was for a woman. Any kingdom that lets itself be rules by a woman must have been at least more accepting and thus better than the one he grew accustomed to… What kingdom? Dismissing such a fruitless question, he wondered why he was here and how did he get here; and where he was before here. “Oh, I guess he is awake! Did you enjoy last night?” the voice said seductively. He turned to see a white horse on the bed with him. She was beautiful, in a way. Her skin was pure white. Her eyes were calm and caring. On her forehead was a horn and he had seen a bit of wing on her side, the rest covered by blankets. Her mane was also unusual, holding different colors and swaying even without a breeze in the room. She also had that large grin that made her all the cuter. What concerned him thought was that there’s a horse on the bed with him. There’s also the teeny tiny teensy widdle little fact that she…no, it…talked. And he understood her. He gulped. He knew from instinct that he had faced scarier and more surprising things than a talking horse on a bed. What gave him horror was what she implied. “From your look I guess you liked it,” she whispered. He couldn’t take it anymore. He yelled and retreated away from her, falling with a small thump in the process. “No? I guess I didn’t bring my A-game that time.” “W-who are you?” He asked. His voice was clear, yet he felt it wrong. ‘What should it sound like anyway?’ “I was sure your pretty much enjoyed yourself- pardon, I meant me, last night” She gave him a sultry wink. ‘Did I do what I think I did… with a horse?’ His mind reeled at the thought. None of his fantasies could have included such a thought. His sanity wouldn't have allowed. He stood up, partly because he did not know what to think, mostly so that he can run away and cry himself to death somewhere. A nice hill overlooking the water would be best, so he can drown himself after crying. Hill overlooking water… The thought struck a chord within him. He must have been doing nothing for a minute or so because the horse was looking at him with concern. “Um, are you alright?” she asked. He merely shook his head. She got out of the bed too. Her wings were as white as her body and on her flank was the symbol of the sun. Her legs were nice too… He shuddered at the thought of attraction to an equine. The horse noticed. “We have a clinic if you need medical assistance-” “No need. I am a bit confused, that is all. Mind telling me where I am and…who you are?” He almost said ‘what’. He did not need to insult the only being that could give him information. She raised an eyebrow at the question. “My dear pony, I am Celestia. I am surprised you don’t know me at all. I am the ruler of Equestria, this land that you find yourself in. This is Canterlot Castle, and in my personal chambers,” she smiled. “Of course, you were screaming my name all night I expected you to be familiar-” “I DID NOT DO THAT TO YOU!” He yelled with all the raw fury and denial he could muster. He swore his eyes were bulging from their sockets. He would claw his face with his hands- He noticed he was standing on all fours like her. He looked down to see dark brown hooves where hands were supposed to be. He came to the logical conclusion: He was a horse, more accurately; a pony like Celestia had called her. He looked for a reflection and saw a full body mirror nearby. Trotting over, he inspected himself. His fur was a deep shade of brown, with dark-grey mane that was shaggy and covered his face. Cold black eyes stared back at him from the mirror from behind his messy hairs; he looked a serial killer set loose. He turned around, examining this form. On the sides of his flanks was an image of a small blade. He recognized it as something called a hidden blade. He did not know how he knew but he felt greatly familiar with it. He turned to look back at Celestia was what on the floor gasping for air. His reaction must have been good comedy for her. As she stood up she smiled and offered a hoof. He slowly took it with his own hoof and shook, the gesture familiar to him even with this body. “Your name is something I don’t know.” Celestia said. Saving Blade opened his mouth to speak before his strange wave of amnesia appeared and stole his name from his lips. He decided to give himself a title of a sort. He thought for a moment, thinking of the right name to call himself. It was two words… He couldn't think of his real name. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Saving Blade.”
2|The Stranger with PotentialSaving Blade was supposed to be just his title but after learning that every pony in Equestria follows the same pattern, he thought it’d be easier to have that as his name. Saving Blade, that was his name now. It was strange to think about. He felt like a newborn…foal. He almost said- What was he going to say again? Inside, Blade growled in frustration. Every time his train of thought would lead back to his old past, it was immediately blocked. So far his name and his “cutie mark” have given a slight clue to who he is. ‘Strange,’ he thought, ‘I remembered I knew things only a few would know and now…’ -and now what? Curses. After his encounter with Celestia, he was sent to the medical facilities to check up on his health, physically and mentally. “Physically, you’re in perfect shape. Better than most earth ponies are in any case,” one of the doctors said. “Mentally, you’re as empty as a newborn foal,” another added. Blade took that to mind. His body was well developed, just as it was supposed to be. How he sensed that he did not care anymore. Such thoughts just cause him pain. After the examination he asked to be directed to somewhere that can fill his mind with knowledge. Anything. They took him to the library, where he began to collect books. He started early in the morning. It’s now sunset and large stacks of big, fat, god-killing books. On the left, were small stacks, which are the ones Blade hasn’t read yet. On the right, however, are books both numerous and bloated that could give a year-long nightmare to any student. During that time of reading that nopony should ever subject them to, Blade learned of math, science, literature. These things felt easy for him to grasp. He also learned of Equestria. Equestria’s history can be summed up in centuries of peace, culture and love. Unaffected by wars except for a few powerful beings here and there in the history books. Blade felt glad to be in such a place of harmony. A side of him was also envious, knowing almost subconsciously that the place where he came from wasn’t as peaceful. There were also the books that held combat and military techniques. Blade felt something tug within him, prompting him to read books on combat. Another part of him urged him to read about the society so that he can blend in. What spawned these desires was another of the many things Blade doesn’t know and instead let it lead him. The military books also intrigued Blade. How can a nation built upon the foundations of peace and love contain detailed information about swords, axes, bows and other things related to removal of life? Upon inspecting some of the older books, it became clear that the centuries of peace came at a risky stalemate. The Griffin Empire. Natural predators with an aggressive society, all information concerning them and Equestria pointed to their mastery of warfare, political and physical. They lacked magic which prompted advancement in technology and gave them weapons of war that terrified the two princesses. What kept the griffins from stepping into Equestrian soil was the global importance of the princesses who held the celestial bodies in place. The other thing that kept them out was the Equestrian military. Ponies aren’t born fighters but they had magic; magic was powerful indeed. It interested him of the latent magic within everypony. Earth ponies, the breed he was classified as, have a way with the soil and nature. They also had a telekinetic field on their hooves which lets them carry things. Blade stared at his hoof and tried to flip a page. Indeed, the paper stuck to his hoof like a hand would have. Blade didn’t notice it until now because he was used to such an action- How did he know how to use a hand in the first place? What was a hand anyway? He was a pony, not a- “Horseapples,” he muttered under his breath. Every single frickin’ time. “Pardon, sir?” asked somepony from behind him. Blade turned to see what was supposed to be the librarian here. She had a violet coat and slate gray mane and tail. Her storm blue eyes were looking at him with concern. Further observation showed that her cutie mark was a heart broken in two, the color faded and the cracks jagged. The image provoked sadness and pity for the pony, as well as curiosity. "How is it that the castle librarian’s cutie mark is a broken heart?” He asked. The violet mare raised an eyebrow at this, but answered anyway. “Written Fiction's the librarian here, mister. I'm his assistant. You must be the Hillborn, right?” Blade has never heard of that title. Using common sense it seems that he arrived here on a hill that much is certain. There could also be the off-chance that a Hillborn is somepony else. “I am not sure dear, would you mind refreshing my memory? I only remembered awakening in Celestia’s room,” The mare blushed at this. “We didn’t do that thing you think we did.” He stated quickly and flatly as he could, but a blush also formed on his face. "Well, the day was all fine and good and then suddenly, a pillar of light landed on Visitor's Hill. A few seconds later, the light disappeared and you were there. The guards dragged you to Her Majesty so she can figure out what to do with you. I asked a few of them and they said you screamed weird random words. Being found on a hill, I guess people call you the Hillborn now." Blade’s left ear twitched. It had never twitched before, so it must mean something significant. “What were those words?” The mare appeared thoughtful for a moment before speaking “I think I recall you saying ‘Connor’, ‘Haytham’, ‘Templar’,‘Assassin’-” “Enough,” Blade whispered breathily. He was panting hard now, sweat beading on his face. Each and every one of those words was like a chisel pounding on him. They were painful to hear, yet slight recollection accompanied each one. “I think I have read enough for one day. Thank you, misses?” “Broken Heart,” she said. “What’s your name?” Inside, Blade is destroying his face with a block of steel. He forgot manners. From whatever place he came from, losing posture or manners can blow away cover and destroy your plans. Saving Blade considered where that deceitful motivation came from, and shrugged it off as ‘hulabaloo from the past’. Outside, Blade gave a tranquil smile. “My name is Saving Blade. Thank you for asking.” He started to walk towards the exit before stopping to look back at Broken Heart. “Would you tell me where the castle gardens are?” “Just go to the left until you go outside, then you will see it as you go.” “Thank you.” He trotted forth, admiring the castle’s design and feel. While it is intimidating in a way, its colors a bright and people move to and fro throughout the hallways. Blade smiled peacefully, a carefree smile on his face. He nodded and said “hello” to many passer-by’s. He was curious what this placed looked like apart from the inside of the castle. He knew from the windows here and there Canterlot was the hub of Equestria, and the history books supported this heavily. From there he saw busy streets and ponies wearing sophisticated clothing with heads held high with self-importance. Self-importance breeds arrogance. Arrogance breeds corruption. Blade wondered what kept them all in line. Is Celestia’s power really as far reaching to them that they wouldn’t do things when nobody’s looking? Who is tasked to making sure that none of them go too far? Blade knows that wherever he came from, they had an organization for that. After several minutes of trotting through the huge corridors, Blade finally got out of the castle. His hooves were on grass and the sky was blue, white clouds floating immobile on the sky. It felt slightly strange to Blade. ‘Those clouds are supposed to move,’ an instinctive part of him said. He turned his gaze back to the ground. The gardens were beautiful. Trees and bushes were aligned and trimmed. A dirt path was visible and clean. He began trotting towards the garden. Stopping near a tree, he studied it for a moment. He placed a hoof on its trunk and slowly a sense of instinct returned to him. He clambered up on the trunk until he stood on a branch. As a pony, standing on it with four hooves was tough. He took hold of the main trunk with his forehooves and shakily got up on his hindlegs. Spreading his forelegs on his sides for balance, he walked slowly but surely, eyes trained on one hoof as it moves past the other. Blade saw another branch and with an effort, he jumped to it. It was a split-second moment where he was flying. He was absolutely free, away from gravity and force. The world seemed to be full of possibilities in a span of that moment and just as fast, disappeared as his hooves landed on the branch. He was breathing heavily now, sweat on every corner of his body. He placed a hoof on a trunk for balance as he regained the air from the jump. He continued to jump from branch to branch, savoring every moment that each jump gave him. Several hours of tree-jumping later, a small crowd had gathered to watch the brown pony which came from nowhere fly across the castle gardens. They followed him wherever he went. Blade looked below him to see a group of ponies trying to keep up with him. He felt a devious thought enter his mind. ‘Time to have a little bit of fun,’ he thought as he abruptly jumped left to a forked trunk and swung right from a branch from above. He zigged and zagged in an almost random fashion, keeping his movements unpredictable but still heading in a general direction. The crowd was full of gasps, sweat and dissapointment as they failed to keep up with Saving Blade. Some tried to go up the trees as he had but failed, their bodies unused to bipedal movement. Blade laughed jovially, a smile on his face. He jumped and swung from tree to branch to trunk with ease that came from a body used to years of movement. ‘What years-’ the thought came unbidden and made him lose his hold on a branch. His swing foiled by himself, he fell to the dirt on his rump with a dull thump. He shakily stood up, shocked from the fall. It took another second for him to notice he was standing on his hind legs; and it felt completely natural. Confusion swirled around him. Shouldn’t he be on all fours? “There he is!” a voice announced from somewhere back. Blade didn’t have time to consider his thoughts and ran in surprise. He jumped inside a nearby bush, eyes warily searching for his pursuers, body ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Why was he hiding? He released the tension from his body. These people were friendly and he didn’t have any reason to hide. He slowly walked out of the bush to see a crowd of ponies stare at him strangely? “What?” Blade asked but then he saw it. He was still standing upright. He went down on all fours, the feeling both being strange yet natural. The crowd was looking at him with curiosity and some even fear. How can this pony bend his forelegs like that? Indeed, Blade’s front legs were twisted in a human fashion that would have normally required breaking a bone or two. Murmurs went into the crowd. Blade studied the gathering of ponies. The nobles were easily identifiable; they wore colorful or heavily designed clothing that covered a large portion of their bodies. Those that showed their cutie marks often, if not all held an image of a star or something similarly vague. There were also worker ponies in the gathering. The crowd contained a dozen or lesser ponies but as if there is a barrier that split the group into two. On the one side clustered were the noble ponies. On the other were the workers. Their cutie marks held something one could actually do for a living. He spotted a broom, scissors and even strangely a whistle on their marks. Lastly were the guards. They were colored and dressed similarly with their coats being white and having golden armor. They even shared a neutral yet alert expression. The only thing that differentiated them from each other was a small color piece of cloth hanging below their golden armor that either signified rank or duty. There were only two guardsponies within the dozen or so crowd. The ponies felt Saving Blade’s scrutiny and slowly dispersed, a few nobleponies giving suspicious glances at Blade before leaving. He sighed in relief from the removal of attention. He felt naked and exposed at such a large number of people focused on him. He thought about continuing his climb but rather thought against it. He was in a strange land and he will make himself harder for being even stranger; He was a stranger being strange in a strange new world. So strange, this predicament he is in. Thinking back of his interest in combat, he decided to wander aimlessly until he found the barracks. Blade didn’t care that he ended up in the land of rainbows and happiness. As long as there is a big-flank castle with snot-nosed nobles, there’s bound to be guards all over the place. Blade continued to trot in the gardens, which had a calming effect on him. Sure enough he saw spiked metal fences where the garden ended. Looking at the exit, he thought of asking for directions when he heard hooves stomping in unison. His thoughts were verified when he heard the drill sergeant shouting at the recruits. “Are you guards or are you foals!? Seriously, you weak-legged dandelions can’t make the ground tremble? And you expect to make ponies tremble? Shame! Repeat!” a loud muscular voice yelled. “Sir Yes sir!” the chorus of male voices returned the favor. Saving Blade smiled as he approached a large stone clearing where 4 dozen or so ponies were doing a practice routine. All of them were sweating and faces contorted in pain and fatigue. Some held more neutral expressions that was a preview of the royal guards they will soon become. He was now sitting on a stone bench as he continued to watch the exercise. A few minutes later he was approached by the drill sergeant. He was a large earth pony with muscles that actually bulged. He was bleach white with a blond mane and red eyes that gave him an intimidating look. Suddenly he was ripped back to another place and another time. The air stank of sweat and wood. The ponies were replaced by civilians mulling around and the earth pony turned into a large uniformed man that stood over him, holding an axe that complimented his size. “No hooded killer can get through a Hessian,” grunted the man as he lifted his axe to swing it. As it fell down Saving Blade was sent back to be face to face with the big pony, who seemed quite irritated. “Distracted,” - The pony gave a short chuckle - “I said: ‘Would you like to spar with me?’ You seem to have good muscles and you walk with nice balance. I want to give my boys a show to lift their spirits up a bit.” He said. Saving Blade blinked in confusion before nodding with enthusiasm. Whatever that vision was, he’d best forget it for now. He stood from the bench and approached the sergeant, who was at a space in the clearing away from the trainees but still visible to them. The sergeant cracked his knuckles...or hooves. “Tell me when to step so I won’t break any bones,” he smiled devilishly. Blade gave an even more devilish smile and blew some hair off his eyes. “At least give me your name before I knock it out of you.” The sergeant chuckled. “This one’s got guts!” he told the trainees. They smiled and bits were flying into different sets of hooves as bets were being placed. The sergeant looked back at Saving Blade. “Name’s Macetera but you can call me Big Mace.” He added, and then winked. As if by some unspoken rule, the two ponies circled each other. Blade studied his opponent. It’s obvious that his punches will hurt like hell if he lets it through his defenses. He’d best be dodging and using his smaller size to outmaneuver him. Big Mace made the first move, charging towards Blade to ram him with his large head. Blade dodged to the right and suddenly the scene changed. He was back in another world once again. The Hessian recovered and began to walk towards him to swing his axe once again. Blade had no time to wonder, only to react. He went under the tall man’s guard and punched him hard in the gut. He followed up by landing calculated blows on several parts of the Hessian’s body. The axe swing flew away as the Hessian toppled down to be beaten bloody by Blade. After he was done with him, it only took a split second of reaction before getting slammed in the head by a large white pony as his world spins back into the match. Miraculously, he dodged Big Mace’s charge but the second one got him flat in the stomach. Cheers erupted from the trainees for their drill sergeant. Macetera took a moment to glance in their direction to smile, giving Blade the chance to stand up and recover from the blow. Blade ran on two legs, using his remaining hooves to smack right into Mace’s jaw. With a grunt, the drill sergeant returned the favor with another blow. Soon the entire match became a work of art and wonder for the trainees as two ponies, one large and muscled and the other agile and on two legs, duke it out with punches and and blocks, counters and locks and lods of other moves the royal guard haven’t been taught yet. Many trainees switched their bet to Blade. It was a dual sight for them. This was the first time they saw their drill sergeant to be actually giving a bucking effort and barely holding on. On the other hoof, a few trainees stared dumbly at Saving Blade who was twirling, kicking, jumping and punching like some acrobat. Soon the battle ended with a stalemate as both Macetera and Saving Blade lied down on the cold stone ground and panted heavily as their bathed in their own sweat. “Th-that was amazing,” Big Mace panted out. Blade could only nod in agreement. After a moment of rest, Macetara stood up and offered a hoof at Saving Blade. “We should do that again sometime.” “Agreed.” Blade smiled. He felt that he made his first actual friend in this strange world.
3|The Stranger with Friends“So you’re the Hillborn!” Big Mace glanced at Blade, who was busy inspecting his front legs. How he twisted his joints was a mystery and by common sense, should have been impossible for him to do. Blade took a good minute of fruitless questioning. A chuckle from Macetera brought Saving Blade back to the present. They were in Donut Joe, a bakery owned by a Pony Joe who is the eldest son of Daddy Joe and Momma Joe with two brothers named Pizza Joe and Java Joe and a sister named Joanna, much to the disappointment of the Joe family. At first they thought she was just joeking around but well- I agree; that pun was stupid. It was not punny at all. Back to Saving Blade. They were in one of the sofa tables and were eating from a box of different flavored donuts with each varying colors. It was a donut set called the ‘Elements of Yummy’. While it did kinda sounds like a child made it, it was based off the Elements of Harmony. Big Macetera was snacking on an orange-frosted donut that had yellow sprinkles and apple filling inside. “Still distracted?” he said dryly before tiredly shaking his head with a smile. “When you get stuck in one of those bouts of blank-eyed episodes, tell me first. I don’t want to look like a fool talking to a vegetable, Hillborn.” “Don’t call me that,” Saving Blade said, irritated at the title. On the way here he kept hearing loud whispers and murmurs of “That’s the Hillborn,” or “The Hillborn’s here,” and even heard one say “Hillborn showoff,” “Care to explain, Hillborn?” Macetera asked with a grin on his face. “Don’t call me Hillborn. I wasn’t born on a hill and it sounds stupid,” Blade said with even more irritation. Macetera raised his hooves up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ve heard the stories and I’ve seen a pillar of light during my patrol. Don’t expect anybody to react lightly to someone that came from a light from the sky,” Mace put his hooves down and ate the last bit of the donut he had earlier. “I guess.” A silence took over the two as Blade reached for a donut with rainbow colored frosting. His hoof was slapped back by Mace’s as he grabbed the donut and took a bite from it. “Hey! I was going to eat that,” Blade complained. “I bought the box,” Macetera stuck his tongue out childishly. “What do these donuts represent anyways?” Saving Blade asked. Mace raised an eyebrow at him. “And you say you weren’t born on that hill,” he muttered. “Blade, these donuts are based off the Elements of Harmony. You know the 6 mares that single-handedly defeated Nightmare Moon and Discord? That’s them: Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rarity; there cutie marks can be found on this box for Pete’s sake!” a pony coughed behind them and Joe was looking at Macetera with a raised eyebrow. “Err, hi Joe. Sorry ‘bout your cousin.” Macetera showed Blade the back of the box that held the six cutie marks of the named ponies as Pony Joe walked away. “Some feeling tells me that these names should be relevant to me.” “Aww come on! Not a barest thought?” Saving Blade shook his head at the question, which prompted Macetera to face-hoof himself. It was a tradition as old as Equestria itself. After that Macetera showed Saving Blade whose colors and cutie marks belonged to whom. The rainbow colored donut was the Rainbow Dash one and once Saving Blade got to try it, it tasted of different fruits that blended together…awesomely. “I hate to be bias but the Dash donuts are 20% cooler,” Macetera said with confidence. “Fluttershy is best donut!” shouted a pony from one of the seats near the door. “Says the minority!” Mace shouted back. The rest of the patrons silenced the two ponies with a unified “Shh!” Blade had to smile inside. During the training routine, Macetera was an iron-back shouting drill sergeant that held all appearances of discipline and strictness. Only in times like now and a several conversations with the trainees showed Mace’s friendly, fun-loving side. “He pushes to our limits every single day but cools us off every time,” a trainee by the name of Silent Death the 16th told him. Another pony by the name of Poison Gas agreed with this. His thoughts then returned to their spar in the training grounds. His mind sent him to another place and time, fighting a different opponent and species. Saving Blade put a hoof to his forehead as a headache started to form. “You alright, Blade?” Macetera looked at Blade with slight concern creasing his features. Blade waved a hoof at him. “I’m fine, seriously.” “If you say so,” Macetera said cautiously as he picked up the box handles with his teeth. “Let’s go, Blade,” Macetera said through clenched teeth over the box handle. Blade understood and nodded, dropping down from the chair and watched Mace wore his guard body armor that he gave to Joe as they came in and hung the box on one of its saddlebag holders. Macetera caught Saving Blade’s gaze and smiled. “Perks of being a guard.” Blade only nodded. Walking back to the castle, Blade and Macetera passed through several shops and vendors with three types of ponies walking around. The nobles who always wore fancy clothing as well as dignified postures. The working ponies with normal clothes and professions. Lastly the guards, who patrol the streets with a vigilant gaze for any troublemaker. A flicker of movement caught Blade’s eye. He looked back at the direction of the movement and saw a dull blue pony snatch a few bits from a mare’s saddlepurse. He narrowed his eyes, wondering why the guards aren’t doing anything to stop him. He went towards the thief’s direction, earning a confused look from Macetera who followed behind him. “Where in Equestria are you going, Blade?” Saving Blade shushed the question before pointing towards the thief, who was now stealing golden goods from the purse. Still, nopony noticed. Macetera nodded. “A sneak-thief; there are many of his kind here.” “Why aren’t the guards doing anything?” “They actually do things to prevent this but the trouble is that ponies like these blend into crowds so easily it’s hard for a guard to spot him or her. The job gets even harder when you have reflective gold armor that alerts the thief before you even see him.” “He’s in a clearing!” “A mass of ponies can form a wall that blocks your view, Blade.” “I’ll stop him then,” Blade growled and started to walk towards the thief, who caught his eye and started to run. Body tensing to chase after him, a strong hoof rested firmly on his shoulder. Blade looked back at Macetera. “Let him go. Did you look at the pony he was stealing from? She’s no more a bandit than he. Watch,” Macetera pointed at the mare that bore all the signs of nobility. She was talking to a street vendor that sold fruit baskets. “Go nearer; hear their conversation.” Mace instructed Blade. Blade nodded and went behind the noblemare, pretending to wait in line. “Madam, this apple basket only costs 10 bits. If you can just reconsider-” “2 bits for the basket, or none at all,” the noblemare coldly replied. “How about 5 bits? Please Madam, I have a family to feed-” “Your impudence costs me time. I will buy it for one bit. That is my final offer.” The vendor sighed dejectedly with wet eyes, giving the basket to the noblemare who threw a bit on the vendor’s stall, which he held in both hands. “This will buy an apple, at least…” the vendor sighed, letting a tear drop down his face when small trickles of water dropped from the sky, hiding the tears of the now wet vendor. A hoodlum ran over a stack of baskets, knocking it over as a royal guard chased him from behind. The vendor went to the fallen baskets and began re-stacking them. Macetera went over to Blade, the pair looking at the vendor with pity. “There’s a saying: ‘The hoof of a thief can steal five coins; the word of a noble can steal five futures.’” Blade looked at Macetera and the vendor. He nodded to himself. “Mace, can you lend me 9 coins?” Blade asked. Mace gave Saving Blade a questioning look. “I know what you want to do; bits aren’t simply yours to give away. Don’t be naïve about the world and let’s get back to the castle. The rain’s starting to grow stronger.” “I will not pass up an opportunity to right a wrong. Either you will give me 9 coins or I will find it elsewhere,” Blade glared at Macetera who glared back but quickly sighing and giving 9 bits from his pack to Blade. “Thank you,” Blade told Mace. Mace grunted in affirmative. Saving Blade walked over to the vendor and helped him stack the remaining baskets that fell down. The vendor looked at Blade with wonder. “Celestia bless you, stranger,” the vendor said. Blade only smiled at him and nodded before getting the last basket and stacking it. “What is your name?” Blade asked. “It’d be Golden Stall, sir.” Blade gave 9 bits in Golden Stall’s hands; Stall blinked in surprise. “I can’t accept this, sir. If you want I could give you a basket for it-” “No need. I saw what the noblemare did to you. Think of this as compensation for your trouble.” Golden Stall was looking at him with adoration and looked at the 9 bits on his hooves. The rain was starting to pick up, drenching them further, but Blade could still see new tears forming in Stall’s eyes. “I-I will repay this! I swear to Celestia’s shiny rump I shall!” He proclaimed. Blade laughed, the first time he had laughed here in Equestria. “Thank you, Golden Stall.” Saving Blade said with heartfelt appreciation for the vendor’s words. “No, I swear it! Give me your name, good saint! I will never forget you, your face and at a call I will come to your aid!” For a basket vendor, he’d make a great drama king. “If you insist, I will keep your promise in mind. My name is Saving Blade and I hope we will meet again.” “4 bits for my little Silver! 3 bits for my wife! 2 bits to cider- er rent! Yes!” Golden Stall shouted merrily as Blade walked away, feeling a great sense of pride fill him. Mace stood where he was and the two continued walking to the castle. “I’m soaked,” Mace complained several times throughout the walk. When they arrived at the castle, Saving Blade immediately ran to the room he was given, took a shower and laid on his bed for a while. Thinking of what to do, he went back towards the library to find that the books he gathered earlier were still there. He picked up where he left off, at latent pony magicks. After burning through that book, he moved over to the next one which was titled “Hoof Blocks for Idiots” and after that another one named “Avatar Aang: The Last Ponybender” which described the unique bone formation on the front hooves that allowed almost 360 degree rotation. The more strenuous angles required more practice. He decided to borrow this book since it can explain how his hooves do their strange movements. After putting all the books back in their respective places, Saving Blade went back to find Broken Heart, seeing that he doesn't even know what Written Fiction looks like. After combing through the rows and rows of bookshelves he finally found the violet pony rearranging some books on ground level. She glanced at me and gave a small smile. “Done reading? Did you put them back?” She asked. “Yes I did,” I replied with a small smile. “Whew! I hate putting them back!” She grinned at me. I showed her the Ponybending book and she looked at it with an eyebrow raised. “What did you want me to do with this?” “I’d like to borrow it.” “You’d better see Writ then,” Broken Heart led Blade to the front desk of the library and knocked on the door beside it. “Writ, the Hillborn wants to borrow a book,” Broken Heart told him. “Alright then, come in.” An old and raspy voice replied back from behind the door. Broken Heart put a hoof on the door and opened it. “You first,” she said. As Blade put his hoof inside his left ear twitched. He immediately took a step back just in the nick of time. Broken Heart gasped in surprise as the floor opened and spikes rose up to floor level, probably impaling Blade if it weren’t for his reaction. “What in Celestia’s name was that for, Writ?” Broken Heart yelled at the other pony, who stepped into view as the spikes receded into the ground. He was a blue unicorn with a black mane with a few grey lines here and there. His steps were slow and weary, showing his age. He wore reading glasses that further made him look older. His cutie mark was a feather quill with a royal blue-and-yellow tiger stripe pattern. “Wasn’t that the signal for ‘Kill the intruder’?” Written Fiction asked. Broken Heart groaned in frustration. “No, you old crick in the back! We agreed to stop using those codes last week!” “Well pardon me for not being a perky youngster that rules an old man’s life like some whip-wielding mistress!” Writ retorted. Broken Heart face-hooved and shook her head. “Why do I keep up with this horseapples…” she muttered under her breath. Writ looked at Broken Heart sternly from inside the room. “Language, young apprentice!” As if for the first time he noticed Saving Blade, who watched the whole scene with relief of being alive, anger at almost dying and humor at their exchange. “Oh hello there! You must be the Hillborn my no good apprentice” –who was glaring at him- “was talking about! Please, come in! It’s safe now, at least I think it is…” Saving Blade took a cautious step forward, waiting to see if a giant dragon would chomp off his head from his shoulders or something of the sort. Nothing happened. Relieved but still alert for any traps, Saving Blade walked inside, along with Broken Heart behind him. It was not -suffice to say- a room meant to be inside a library. Weapon racks lined the walls. Chains and blades and other metal items of death lined the surface of a long table on another wall. A large banner of a strange symbol was the center of the room’s attention. A hooded outfit is put on display on the center of the room. Saving Blade felt a strange wave of nostalgia overcome him. This setting was familiar yet still out of reach for his conscious mind. The nostalgia and unfamiliarity mixed together to form an emotion Blade knows not the name of. “Err, Writ?” asked Broken Heart, who was staring at the scene in silent alarm. “Shouldn’t all this be hidden? He’s not –you know- one of us.” She said that word with a tinge of panic. “Don’t worry I won’t speak about this,” Saving Blade said defensively. He felt offended that they believed him to divulge secrets so easily. “I don’t know why but I feel kind of familiar to this place…” his voice slowly dropped to whispered muttering at the end. “I believe I know the cause of your feelings,” Writ said as he trotted over with a large book floating behind him as well as a flying feather quill that is a copy of his cutie mark. “Tell me, Hillborn,” he asked before blowing the dust from the large tome’s cover. Still floating, the book opened itself to Writ and started to nod and murmur to nopony in particular. “Do you suffer bouts of flashbacks into a place different from Equestria entirely, but similar to the circumstances you find yourself in?” Rapidly the scene changed. It smelled of wood, dirt and dust. A man was before him, wearing a hooded outfit similar to the one in Writ’s room. “Apprentice, are you ready to take on our Order’s responsibilities?” the man asked. “I do,” said Saving Blade. The scene changed back to Equestria once more. “I see you have that look in your eyes. What words come to mind when I say Asassin?” He asked, his form melding from the hooded man to the blue unicorn in Blade’s eyes. He also heard a different question: “What is the Creed’s Maxim?” “Nothing is true; everything is permitted,” answered Saving Blade, effectively answering both questions. “I see this is the case then,” Writ said. “With the power invested in me,” the other person intoned, “Welcome to the Order of Assassins.” Said both Writ and the person in the same time. “Welcome back,” Writ said with a smile. Broken Heart was in the background, mouth hanging open. -TLWTHB- “I can’t BUCKING believe it!” Broken Heart shouted. Writ glared at her. “Language, young apprentice-” “Shut up for a minute, will you, old man?” She let out a growl and stomped on the ground with as much force as she can muster. “I have been your apprentice for, what? 10 years? Now this guy comes along,” –she pointed at Hidden Blade, who looked up at her from inspecting one of the swords on the weapons rack- “and suddenly we’re all buddy buddy and HE becomes an Assassin lickety-split? YOU CAN’T BRING BACK 10 YEARS!” she yelled at him. Written Fiction’s eyes held anger but soon quickly dispersed as he breathed out a weary sigh. “Ten years of apprenticeship and you still let your temper take hold of you,” He snapped back at her. Noticing this, her ears lowered and looked down shamefully. “I am sorry, Master.” “Good; I thought for a minute there you’ve forgotten your place.” his voice was stern, yet softer. It was clear that he had this talk with her so many times already. “Will never happen again master,” droned out Broken Heart as she found a clean rag and started cleaning the gear; it was clear that she had done this so many times as well. Written Fiction turned back to Saving Blade, who was strapping on a hidden blade on his right hoof. Writ’s eyes wandered over to the Ponybending book lying on one of the gadget tables. “I guess you know how to Ponybend?” Writ inquired. Saving Blade only shook his head. “I wanted to borrow it so I can learn how to, but so far I can do what the book teaches fairly easily,” Saving Blade demonstrated this by standing on hind legs and using his forelegs similarly to a human. Through some instinctive knowledge, he slid open the hidden blade and stabbed at the air with it in one fluid movement. “Cool! I could never open that thing!” Broken Heart looked up at Blade from cleaning a chain. Written gave her a look and she went back to cleaning. “In terms of training and physical combat your past live has provided you very well, Saving Blade,” Writ noted. “But you lack knowledge, and you need to learn of Equestria, both past and present.” With magic he floated the large book towards Saving Blade. It was titled ‘The True History of Equestria’. It was thicker than Saving Blade’s hoof, to say the least. “Start with the past,” Writ said as he walked outside towards the library. Saving Blade swore the old pony chuckling silently. “I remember my time reading that old thing.” Broken Heart laughed as she cleaned an old knife blade. “Aw shut it, apprentice.” “Alright, alright.”
1|The Stranger without a PastHe felt nothing. It was as if he was merely floating forever, looking at a future of endless boredom. ‘So this is what death feels like’ he thought, ‘I wonder what-‘ Wonder…what? At that moment he felt his memories disappear. The experience was horrifying yet relieving. Imagine having a library. Now think of all the books it contained become blank. He felt that. He knew he had memories but now they were all gone. He had a name once. He had forgotten. He did not have a body, but he recalled blood. His muscle memory held a certain control and discipline. Every part of his being was made to kill; to fight; to lie; to hide; to deceive- -To assassinate. A faint thought briefly passed over his ethereal vision. It was a painting. Frameless, it appeared simple from a mere look, but he felt a strong mix of emotions flood through him as it appeared. It was a picture of a man, his wife and his child. His precious child. ‘Connor’, he whispered, although it was mere thought considering he had no mouth to speak with. A light appeared on the sky of the nothingness. It was blinding, growing larger and larger by the second. He noticed he was going nearer towards it and it was not enlarging. Soon his essence, in whatever form it possessed, was surrounded by the bright light. All around him blank white stared back. And then it became dark again but this time, accompanied by something else. It was the feel of sunlight on his face. -TLWTHB- “Wakey-wakey my little pony” said a female voice. At first he thought it was… Who was he thinking about again? He shook the thought aside for a moment and opened his eyes. He was aware he was on a very comfy bed. It was big and was very soft. The designs on it were made with gold and held gems. He immediately thought of royalty. His suspicions were proven correct. On his right was a wooden end table that had golden designs only a noble or any rich man can afford. On its surface was a beautiful tiara. It was obviously for a monarch, or a king. He was suddenly imbued with dislike for royalty. Nobody deserved to have control over another’s actions; no matter how righteous they may present their cause to be. A rational side of his mind told him that it was a tiara and unless this said king liked to do and wear unspeakable things in the dead of night, the headwear was for a woman. Any kingdom that lets itself be rules by a woman must have been at least more accepting and thus better than the one he grew accustomed to… What kingdom? Dismissing such a fruitless question, he wondered why he was here and how did he get here; and where he was before here. “Oh, I guess he is awake! Did you enjoy last night?” the voice said seductively. He turned to see a white horse on the bed with him. She was beautiful, in a way. Her skin was pure white. Her eyes were calm and caring. On her forehead was a horn and he had seen a bit of wing on her side, the rest covered by blankets. Her mane was also unusual, holding different colors and swaying even without a breeze in the room. She also had that large grin that made her all the cuter. What concerned him thought was that there’s a horse on the bed with him. There’s also the teeny tiny teensy widdle little fact that she…no, it…talked. And he understood her. He gulped. He knew from instinct that he had faced scarier and more surprising things than a talking horse on a bed. What gave him horror was what she implied. “From your look I guess you liked it,” she whispered. He couldn’t take it anymore. He yelled and retreated away from her, falling with a small thump in the process. “No? I guess I didn’t bring my A-game that time.” “W-who are you?” He asked. His voice was clear, yet he felt it wrong. ‘What should it sound like anyway?’ “I was sure your pretty much enjoyed yourself- pardon, I meant me, last night” She gave him a sultry wink. ‘Did I do what I think I did… with a horse?’ His mind reeled at the thought. None of his fantasies could have included such a thought. His sanity wouldn't have allowed. He stood up, partly because he did not know what to think, mostly so that he can run away and cry himself to death somewhere. A nice hill overlooking the water would be best, so he can drown himself after crying. Hill overlooking water… The thought struck a chord within him. He must have been doing nothing for a minute or so because the horse was looking at him with concern. “Um, are you alright?” she asked. He merely shook his head. She got out of the bed too. Her wings were as white as her body and on her flank was the symbol of the sun. Her legs were nice too… He shuddered at the thought of attraction to an equine. The horse noticed. “We have a clinic if you need medical assistance-” “No need. I am a bit confused, that is all. Mind telling me where I am and…who you are?” He almost said ‘what’. He did not need to insult the only being that could give him information. She raised an eyebrow at the question. “My dear pony, I am Celestia. I am surprised you don’t know me at all. I am the ruler of Equestria, this land that you find yourself in. This is Canterlot Castle, and in my personal chambers,” she smiled. “Of course, you were screaming my name all night I expected you to be familiar-” “I DID NOT DO THAT TO YOU!” He yelled with all the raw fury and denial he could muster. He swore his eyes were bulging from their sockets. He would claw his face with his hands- He noticed he was standing on all fours like her. He looked down to see dark brown hooves where hands were supposed to be. He came to the logical conclusion: He was a horse, more accurately; a pony like Celestia had called her. He looked for a reflection and saw a full body mirror nearby. Trotting over, he inspected himself. His fur was a deep shade of brown, with dark-grey mane that was shaggy and covered his face. Cold black eyes stared back at him from the mirror from behind his messy hairs; he looked a serial killer set loose. He turned around, examining this form. On the sides of his flanks was an image of a small blade. He recognized it as something called a hidden blade. He did not know how he knew but he felt greatly familiar with it. He turned to look back at Celestia was what on the floor gasping for air. His reaction must have been good comedy for her. As she stood up she smiled and offered a hoof. He slowly took it with his own hoof and shook, the gesture familiar to him even with this body. “Your name is something I don’t know.” Celestia said. Saving Blade opened his mouth to speak before his strange wave of amnesia appeared and stole his name from his lips. He decided to give himself a title of a sort. He thought for a moment, thinking of the right name to call himself. It was two words… He couldn't think of his real name. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Saving Blade.”
