Kestral awoke into a dim afternoon light. His first reaction was to wipe the water out of his eye, though he couldn't tell if it was his tears, or his sweat. He sat up and leaned on the wooden support next to him, making sure he didn't fall past the boards he sat on. He looked around, to ensure that he really was still in the attic that he had fallen asleep in.

The slanted roof greeted him, along with the the various skeletal pieces to a modern attic, and a lone, circular window at the flat end of the room. No insulation fluff was there, so at least he didn't have to deal with that.

Just a dream. He told himself.

As his focus came back to him, Kestral heard the sound of raindrops hitting the window glass, so he stood up and walked to it slowly. He spied a cloudy sky, thick enough to turn any sunshine into the gray light he saw. The rain would make his thieving a bit more difficult, since mud would leave a large track leading right to him, should he be in a house with a woken occupant.

Not to mention it would prove guilt with every house he left a mud print in, but that was irrelevant since everyone was racist.

He walked back to the center of the platform, next to the fold up latter, and looked at the book at his feet. Kestral had spent a good amount of time that early morning, reading the material that covered telekinesis. It was awfully difficult to understand, since he had little grasp on what magic really was. To him, it was a fanciful way of saying 'I don't understand, so I’ll just give it a name and move on'. To those ponies, apparently, it was some kind of scientific expression that came from one's self and was used to -quite literally- change the world around them.

Or so he assumed from the way the author wrote about it in the book.

Kestral wanted to try out the spell -which had been marked upon his arm that morning- to see if he could really use it. He focused on the book at his feet, and watched as it rose up to meet his hand at the pace he wished it to. He made it go left, then right. It span in circles with his will alone, before landing in his hand with a thud. He tossed it into the air and pushed it across the room, testing for any limits on how far he can hold things. Just a couple feet before it hit the window, it stopped.

Try as he might, Kestral could not push the book any farther. It refused to budge, no many how much he focused. It was frustrating to him to know that he couldn't move objects more than a few meters away, but it was better than not at all.

He lowered the book to the ground, and backed away from the book until he was close to the ledge of the platform, and tried to pick up the book. After a few seconds, nothing happened to the book. It was still on the ground, in the same spot he left it in. Not even a twitch. It simply lied there.

Maybe I’ll get better with practice. He mused. Oh well. Now that I know I can do that, I suppose I could pass the time with the other book.

He walked close enough to grasp both his bag and his book, and pulled them both close. He swapped one book for the other, and set the bag down on the ground. He walked over to the window to read by what sunlight managed to get through. He sat with his back against the wall and read.

Shadowmancy: A Practical Guide (Abridged)

It should be noted that there are many uses for the spell depicted in this reading. Most of them, however, can be drawn back to two essential directions; Manipulating the environment, and manipulating one's self. Having said that, it should be duly noted that each of the two requires different input on the part of the caster in order to have the more effective -and safe- outcome.

Shadowmancy actually has little to do with using shadows. It is the practice of creating 'pocket dimensions' or 'half dimensions' and being able to push and pull matter to and from said dimensions. The name is derived by the fact that light seems to be blocked from the object until it has been removed completely, and is the first to be blocked upon an object reappearing. It is only theorized about how this occurs, but that shall be covered later.

Part One -Manipulating The Environment

To put an object into a rift, one must focus on the energies of manipulating space. Easier done than said, believe it or not. Just imagine something as simple as a zipper, and the nearly invisible entrance will open. Try it out on any solid object. But remember only to do this for solids. Fluids have a tendency to leak past the borders and through an entrance to the pocket dimension you created. Worse off, it tends to not be the same one it entered through, so if you already tried to put a liquid in there, good luck getting it back.

To retrieve an object, the best way is to imagine the rift getting smaller, putting pressure on the object you want, until it pops out. The works because matter is naturally drawn to other matter in rifts, and when sectioned off from the rest of what is in the rift, an item will be quickly drawn to the entrance. This is due to magical adherence from one object to another. Simple gravity would take ages to get it back to you.

It should also be duly noted that organic molecules, like fluids, are adversely affected by these rifts. Organic molecules seem to break down and reconfigure themselves in almost random substances, in inconsistent rates, and unfortunate results. That grilled cheese sandwich you tried to store could be partially burned, or that water you had used some carbon to turn into ethanol. It appears to only happen to carbon-using molecules, but for some reason does not happen to long-dead carbon substances, such as coal, diamonds, or oil. Use with caution.

Part Two- Manipulating The Self

Different from the previous use of this spell, this form is much faster, and can become much more dangerous. Also called 'Dirty Portaling', Shadow Teleportation is a useful installment of Shadowmancy. It requires the caster to immediately pulled themselves into a rift, and immediately exit. Since the location of the pocket dimension isn't exactly in the world plane, the entrance and exit can be a small distance apart, without requiring more energy than normal. Usually the distance is only about six or seven meters.

As stated in the previous chapters, storing fluids and organic matter is dangerous; But the consequences can be averted by pulling it back out in a very short time span. This way is how the teleportation was discovered.

To start, have a destination in mind. It can't be too far away, or it won't work. Just imagine a spot about ten feet ahead of yourself. Then you must force yourself into the rift, and imagine coming back out at the destination. A warning though; Similar to the 'Phase-Out' series of spells, this will not allow you to travel through objects. A reasonably open space must be there, because the rift's entrance will be anchored in the real world until you exit again. About a foot in radius is a good standard for which is safe. Any smaller could deny the rift from moving through.

Kestral set down the book and rubbed his eyes. They hurt from the vigorous reading, but his mind was happy to learn new material. He set the book down, took his hand off, and concentrated. He thought about opening the rift, about forcing that book into disappearing, but nothing happened. For a second time that day, his expectations were met with failure. He went to grab the book, still wanting it to vanish, and it did. Right as he had touched it, it dissipated into nothing.

He focused again, on bringing it back, and it came to him, right into his open hand. So apparently, I have to touch it to use the spell. The book didn't say anything about having to touch the damn things in order to send it off, but he simply shrugged it off as normal. After all, he really had no idea was magic really was.

He magicked over the other book, and sent it to hammerspace as well. He grabbed his rifle and whisked it off too, then the jewelry and bits he was carrying. Bullet casings and unused cartridges went next. Each time he did it, his body felt slightly lighter, feeling the weight of his items come off. He magicked over his backpack from the ground, and ran through it. He grabbed each of the gun cleaning kits in there, and sent them off. The book said oil was fine, so he didn't think the cleaning oil would be a problem. He left the medical kit there, though, since the alcohol might be a problem.

He put on the bag to feel the weight. It was wonderful, to say the least. The weight he carried seemed to be halved. He left his shotgun and revolver at his sides, though, with not much reason other than for the familiarity.

Now to try the other one.

He looked at the center of the wooden boards that were in the room, and simply set his mind to him being there. Almost instantly, he appeared where he wanted to be, without even the sound of him crossing the space. In that split second he was gone, his vision was blurry, but the problem was fixed once he returned.

He teleported back to the window, getting use to the feeling, and saw the light rainclouds stretching across the town. Soon enough, he also spotted various ponies flying and walking about. He didn't need to wait much longer before the masses were in their homes, leaving the party goers and the guards. He waited there for the home's owner to come home. It wasn't a long wait, as the stallion he had first robbed from began walking back to his house, unaware of Kestral's gaze.

He heard the door slam, and moved over to the entrance to his new abode. He pushed down lightly on the folded latter, opening the ceiling of the lower floor just enough to let clear sound in. Periodically, he heard hoofsteps clack on tiles, along with the sound of metal scratching on metal. A liquid was loudly poured into a container, before the pony walked off somewhere.

From the sounds of it, the colt was cooking something, but as much as he would love a warm meal, Kestral had a schedule to keep. He decided he could wait, though, since it was only dusk. He just needed to wait until the stallion was distracted.

Actually, wait a second.

He fully closed the entrance to the attic, and stood up. He walked over to the window and looked for any betraying details. He saw the hinge he sought on one side, and a lock on the other. He nearly face-palmed at what should have been something obvious, but moved on instead. He unlatched the window, and opened it inward. A small amount of ran slipped in, but he cared little. He whisked away quickly with his new spell, and landed softly on the ground.

As he ran through the rain, he pulled out the compass to see his destination choices. Once again, only two locations were marked, so he was going to try a skillful robbery afterward.

Just another busy night.

Longsword, though technically a day guard, still walked along supposedly two of the best night guards in Ponyville. He had convinced his lunar counterpart to allow it. Even if his contract stated his hours were six AM to six PM, Steelwing let Longsword help with the night shift. If nothing else, it would help ease his mind on the attacks. Of course, it didn't, mostly due to the fact that he was heavily questioning the professional skills of the two he walked besides.

“-and that is the story of how I found out my lead mare was my sister.”

He also found out that neither of them were ever trained to shut the fuck up.

“Really? Given everything, the only thing that's weird is the sex. You two were split apart from childhood, so it's not like you knew her as a sister. I think it would have been fine, long as you didn't have kids together. You know, inbreedin' and all.”

Longsword mentally added another tick to the items he needed to tell Steelwing about her own 'soldiers'.

“Yeah, I know, but I don't think too many ponies would see it that way. I helped her find a new herd, though. Least I could do.”

To his surprise, the two actually lulled into silence, probably thinking on what they could start talking about next. The sound of only rain and splashes were welcome to the Warrant Officer. His training made him have want for the perfect, stoic stature that guards were supposed to be known for. It was quite obvious that those two did not.

“So, do you have any stories, Longsword?” The bat-pony piped up.

He just kept walking along, leading their way down the road, right through the center of the residential area. He didn't want to even answer the question, but knew that they would just keep talking either way. “No. I prefer silence when on patrol. It helps me listen for trouble.”

“Really? I doubt we could, since the rain is kinda pouring.” Interjected the earth-pony.

“Well maybe we could, if you two could give it a shot.”

He saw them both simply shrug at each other, not saying a word. Longsword took it as an affirmation that they were trying, so he saw it as a small victory.

A loud echo suddenly sounded out, making him focus on it.

“Damn. Didn't think the weather team would throw in thunder for a storm this light.” The earth-pony stated.

“What are you talking about? That's not thunder.” The bat-pony retorted, making Longsword shift his attention to him.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” he picked up some volume, “that it's not thunder! I've worked on weather teams! Thunder drags out more than that!”

It couldn't be, could it? “What is it then?!”

“I don't know! It kinda sounds like a canon, but a lot higher pitched! ...Wait, that's the sound we heard a night ago!!”

Suddenly a second, then a third one sounded off. Longsword didn't wait for idle chatter, and began sprinting down the road. He crossed through yards to reach the location faster. The earth-pony caught up easily, and the bat-pony shot ahead through the air. Soon enough he came to find three night guards an a porch, one of them being his companion.

“Is everything alright in there?!” He heard one of them yell. Some of the neighbors were standing at their porches, having been rustled by the sounds. Nothing called back to them, so they were about to assume the worst.

Longsword approached the door, his presence alone moving the night guards. Even though he had no command of them, they still respected the rankings of day guards when opposition to it would prove worthless. “If you do not open the door, we shall open it with force!” Not an answer came back, so he nodded to the two mares that were next to him. They stacked up against the door, and one of them turned the handle. Finding it unlocked, she swung the door open, before the both of them charged in, weapons ready.

The male pair of guards filed in next, before Longsword trotted inside. It was gruesome, to say the least. A changeling's body sat against the wall, with its forehead bleeding out and its horn chipped off about midway. Its blood pooled beneath the head, showing that it was hit and died on the spot, but that's not where all of it went. There was a rather large splatter of the green liquid on the wall, caused by some unknown affliction.

What was almost just as disturbing, however, was the fact that a mare was sleeping on the couch, completely undisturbed by the fight that had happened.

Longsword pounded his hoof on the ground. Gods damn it! Tomorrow, He thought, I'm going to get her, and find this this criminal once and for all. He was tired of being outdone by a serial killer in his own town. He was not going to stand it, so one way or another, this 'human' was going to go down, and Longsword was going to enjoy it.

Kestral panted as he ran down the alley. The fact that he didn't have a silenced gun was apparently a problem. One that he should have fixed earlier. His knife would have been fine, but the changeling seemed to have noticed him quickly. It was almost as if he had been warned. It was not on the forefront of his mind, though, since the deed was already done.

He neared a rather large house, probably of a higher income family. His map showed him that it was his target, so he began devising a plan to get in. About the size of a mini mansion, the building had a large back yard, a balcony, and some statues scattered about. He hopped over the small fence that surrounded the yard, and crept up past the statues, next to the stone pathway that led to them.

From there, he could see there were plenty of windows. Kestral rushed over and crouched next to one of them. He looked for a crevice to place his flat bar, but there were none. The windows were not made to open, so he needed another way in. He looked to the balcony, and walked closer to it. He jumped, then teleported to close the distance. He landed on the marble railing, before pulling himself over.

He looked to his side to see two large, wooden doors. He went over and light pressed the handle on one. It gave way, so he pushed the door open, and entered. He was greeted with a lavish bedroom, filled with fine silk and furnishings. A walk in closet on his right, an open door leading to a bathroom ahead, and a closed door to the left.

He went to the right, just in case the pods were there. He was rewarded with their presence, so he began to cut out the ponies. Three unconscious unicorns later, Kestral wiped his hands and arms on the clothing he could find, getting the mess off. It seemed a bit too convenient to him, for the only door guarding their pods to be unlocked, but maybe they were not expecting anyone to intrude.

He walked across the bedroom, and slowly opened the door in his way. It revealed a large room filled with books on the shelves, which were all up against the wall. A walkway made it's way around the edge, while the middle of the floor was cut out, showing the first floor's marble ground. Next to him was a staircase leading down, and down the walkway was the edge of a hall, possibly leading to more rooms. In the center, a chandelier lit up the room, the crystals themselves seemingly glowing.

Kestral heard clanking of silverware and glass downstairs, along with muffled dialog of inhabitants. They were having a party of sorts. A clopping sound managed to echo around the room though, coming from the hallway. He didn't have enough time to open the door safely, so instead, he crouched down next to the rail, and waited for the sound to do something.

It had stopped for a moment, but then started up again, getting closer. He looked behind his self, but the top of the staircase was too far to get to without being seen, and he couldn't risk being spotted by teleporting to the first floor. It was getting closer, so he had to think quickly. He pulled out his slingshot and a steel ball, and shot it blindly over the rail.

He almost regretted that decision, as the slingshot made a mild slapping noise, but was relieved to hear the metal shot bouncing loudly somewhere near the hall. The clopping stopped, and he wanted to look, but knew better. Instead, he waited until the hoof traffic went the other direction. It did, which was when he poked his head out.

It was one of the changelings, so he began creeping up behind it. In spite of the eyes being turned back to get more peripheral vision, there was still a large blind spot behind the 'pony'. He unsheathed his knife, and teleported closer, just a few feet away. The changeling kicked the steel ball ahead of him, watching it roll forward, bounce off the wall, and roll back, where it watched the ball roll right past Kestral.

Shit.

It panicked, and reacted as fast. “Guys SOMEPONY'S HERE-”

Kestral closed the distance and stabbed it deep in the eye, ending whatever it was saying. He let the body drop, and ran up and behind the corner of the hallway. After hearing something drop onto a wooden surface with an echo, he watched as two changelings flew up onto the railing, observing the body of their comrade. He began to aim his revolver at the nearest one, when something unusual happened. They formed a glowing green overlay around their bodies, making them look like they covered themselves in energy.

He hesitated, but only slightly. With a pull of the trigger, his revolver shot off a round, making the energy flicker off. But before he could get another shot in, it reappeared, ready to deflect another shot. Kestral was impressed that it could do that, but pissed that it meant he just gave away his location to both of them.

You may shrug off one, but let's try a dozen.

As the two closed in, he swapped his revolver for his shotgun. As the first one rounded the corner, fangs bared and horn glowing with energy, Kestral pulled one of the triggers, forcing a buckshot into the skull of the changeling. Only a couple of the lead balls in the load must have hit the shield, because the rest of them entered the body and caused a spray of green mist to shoot out the other side.

This frightened the last changeling, which was obvious by it's sudden confusion and attempt to flee. It took to the air and flew over the rail. Kestral used his second shot on it, causing the shield to disperse and some blood to shoot out, but it failed to kill it's target.

He rushed over to rail, and looked for the bug, and to his surprise, saw it backing up, until it was in the center of the room. He ducked down at the sound of a dozen more hoof steps.

“Get down on the ground! Or we will use force!”

Aw shit. Fuzz is here.

Kestral knew he had to kill the changeling, but if he took out his gun and aimed, surely it would see it and dodge the shot, only leaving Kestral with more problems. He would need to find another way to kill it.

Even if he could tip over a bookcase, they were out of reach from his telekinesis. He could throw his knife, but that would leave him without it, and still be a tell tale sign of his presence. He looked around, and noticed the chandelier again. A metal chain made its way from the ceiling, to the wall, and down to a metal spool.

He peeked his head over to see that the changeling was just under the bright device, so he made his way to the end of the chain. He grabbed the handle, and removed the metal bar locking the device in place. He let go, causing it to crash on the properly squished bug.

Kestral knew what was about to happen, so he made his way to the bedroom door and entered. As he closed it again, he heard one of the soldiers yell out.

“Find whoever did this! Search every room!”

He clicked the lock on the door, and ran over to the wardrobe. He pushed it as fast as he could until it stood squarely in front of the door. Almost as soon as he did, he heard a loud banging at the door.

“Girls, I think I found him! He barricaded himself!” A female voice called out.

Kestral opened the doors leading to the balcony as loud as he could. “You sure as hell did! Congrats! Now be amazed, as I run off into the night!” He knew they were bound to either open the door, or have someone run out back, so instead of actually leaving, he ran over to the bed and crawled under, pulling the draping covers over any openings.

“Shit! Girls, hurry up! He's getting away!”

He heard slams against the door get louder and more frequent. Then a chunk of wood could be heard snapping off, then some scraping across the floor. Four fast sets of hooves burst in, each probably looking for trouble, before a slow set followed in. A male voice gave a loud sigh.

“Gods...damn it.” A moment passed for him to think. “You two, search the nearby area for anything suspicious.” Two sets made their way out to the balcony, and jumped off, presumably into the air. “And you two...Help me get any ponies to the hospital.”

It wasn't long before all of the hooves had run out, weighed down, judging by the slower pace. After a minute, all was peaceful, and Kestral silently smiled to himself.

Another night of freedom.