Kestral woke into an offending light, it having bore a hole into the irises of his eyes. He flicked his head to the side to escape the wretched sunlight, and began feeling around to get his balance. He stood up, and put his back against the wall, next to the window.

As he began stretching his muscles, his thoughts turned towards the dream. He wasn't sure if 'Luna' was real, but he realized that the possibility was there, given everything else. Real or not, he was actually thankful that she had pulled him out of the memory when she did. That day had gone from bad to worse once Charlie was made to be partners with Kestral. He did not look forward to living out that situation again. He felt along his shoulder, reminding himself just where that scar had come from, then pushed the memory away.

He turned his mind from that to Luna, however, and began pondering the implications of the conversation. If there really were ponies that moved the moon and the sun, then who knows what kind of crap they had in store for him. Luna seemed nice, but his guess was that she didn't know what he was doing. If he was lucky, he could get everything done before news traveled to wherever 'Canterlot' was.

He could try to make humans look good, if he could manipulate the situation correctly, but that would require interaction with the populace to some extent, something that he couldn't do without great risk to himself. He could probably ask discord if there was a way to wake up the ponies early, so that he could explain to them personally what is happening. That way, he could come off as a nice guy trying to save them all in spite of their paranoia towards him.

Wait, Luna said she helps other races as well. The thought struck him. Maybe he could erase the whole 'human' thing from the situation! If there are other races, one of them is bound to look at least a little human right? After all, why else would that first pony need to ask, instead of knowing off the bat? He thought about it, and decided that it was something worth asking about.

If he could convince the guards that he was something not human the whole time, he could wipe the slate clean of the events in the town. It would certainly help contain the chaos that was probably brewing from his presence.

Then again, that was all assuming there was another race similar to humans. It is also assuming there won't be at least some ponies in the local population that would understand his justification. He was more than willing to bet at least some of them would be able to see the way he sees it. Some would be quite happy to keep their lives, even if it meant their hero was hiding in the dark.

Hell, if I talk them through it enough, I might even be able to convince them that my thefts were just payment for the hard work I do! Ha! A silver tongue can justify nearly anything.

He rolled his attention away from the line of thinking and remembered about the book he read the day before. He brought his hands up, about six inches apart, and focused. A continuous arc of electricity zapped across and held it's length between each hand, seemingly following Kestral's every whim. As he pulled his hands further apart, the hand-held lightning grew longer and thinner, until there seemed to be a gap between the two, marking an apparent maximum distance that it could travel.

He stuck out a lonesome hand toward the center of the attic, and began to arc the lightning around, back to the sending hand. He smiled as he saw it, but quickly ceased as the memory of the day before came to mind. He recalled an accidental stray arc that passed along his leg, along with the full hour of numbness and immobility that came with it.

Apparently he was not immune to his own lightning, so he decided to bear that detail in mind.

Now that he had control of electricity, the question of it's usefulness really boiled down in his mind. He could use it to subdue targets, with ease as it seemed, but he already had the morphine. Barring that, he could still just choke ponies out if truly need be, and he didn't trust that a shock would keep one down for too long. Even if it did, a shock to the wrong vital organ could be the end of a life, so he decided he should use his already available alternatives for non-fatal attacks.

I should probably get to what's important.

He took out his cloth compass and tapped it a couple times, then put it back up, waiting for his trusty disembodied voice to come speak to him. He began pulling his supply of silver, gold, and gems out and separating them into semi-organized piles. It was a considerable size, but not quite as large as when he robbed the jewelry store. Instead of a mass pile of necklaces and bracelets, he presented on the floor several bars of gold, a few smaller bars of silver, a couple of necklaces, and some sacks of coin.

He smiled on his supply, proud of his clean getaway from the past two nights. The pigeon necklace from two nights prior sat at the front, along with a weird bracelet containing a beetle shaped diamond from the night before at one end.

At this rate, I've got to start wondering how much that R-P-G would cost... No, that wouldn't be at all useful for stealthy stuff. I better just stick with what I know.

“Hello! My good friend, how wonderful it is to hear from you!” A cheery voice called out.

“Hey, Discord.” Kestral said.

“And what could you need of me this time?” He asked, in a more dry, almost bored tone.

“Well,” he began, “right now I want to ask some questions.”

“Ah! That is a surprise, even to me. The other human just demands more grenades and tells me to 'shove off'. Quite rude. Now, what do you need?”

“Okay, first, I want to ask; What kinds of other, sentient species are in this world?”

“Hmm.” Discord pondered. “Well, there are ponies and changelings, as you've seen, then there are minotaurs, diamond dogs, goats, reindeer -which you should not confuse with regular deer- bovine, buffalo, and the Felis.”

“Felis?” Kestral asked, being able to identify the rest of the species.

“Nasty group of large cats. Culturally similar to diamond dogs, but less friendly, and have a hatred towards any kind of dog, diamond or not. They live on the west side of Equestria, and tend to keep to themselves unless threatened.”

“Oh.” He replied. Damn, that means I can't eat beef or deer any more. Or at least until I get back to America. He let his final thought on the matter sink in a bit, and was about to set off on a stream of conscience, but was cut off by Discord.

“Yes. Care to learn any more? I have nothing else to do, and it seems you don't either right now.” he mused.

“The minotaurs... they don't happen to look similar to humans, do they?”

“Well, I suppose they do, in fact.”

“Similar enough that I could disguise myself as one, if I had the right clothing?”

Discord gave off an amused laugh. “I should have know that this is where you were going. Yes, I can get you suited to look like a minotaur. Although, to be truthful, I was going to supply one on your way to the next destination.”

What? “Next destination? As in, the next house? Why would the next house need one?”

“Ha! No- the next city!” He scoffed. “You didn't think you'd be spending all your time in this little dump, did you? Once you're done here, you're moving up to the big leagues, my little human.”

“Oh, okay. Just tell me when I’m done here.”

“If all goes to plan,” Discord started, “You'll be done by sun up tomorrow. Then you can sneak on the train to Canterlot.”

“Canterlot?” Shit, that's where Luna said she lived. I am so screwed if she finds me there.

“Yes, the capital of Equestria.” He paused. “Don't be surprised. The potential attack here was nothing more than a preventative measure to eliminate the use of the Elements of Harmony. I don't know if you saved the bearers' lives, but you, in the very least, kept them from a hindered response to the changeling threat in the future.”

Much of what Kestral heard went over his head, but what he gathered from the whole thing was that he was going out of the frying pan, and into the fire. “Alright! In that case, I’ll worry about the disguise on the way there. I'll just buy up a bunch of totally useful things that I can think of, and set off for tonight.”

“Hmm, I suppose you are finished with questions already?” Discord asked, almost in a sad tone.

“Yeah, done for now, I just need my things and some time to think of how I’ll mess with the guards.”

“Very well.” A clap of hands sounded out, somehow. “What would you like?”

“Uh...” He thought about what he could get that would be useful to him. “Okay.” He pulled his rifle out of his rift and presented it to himself. “I want a silencer for this.”

Suddenly the tip of the barrel peeled off some, and a black silencer popped out of nowhere in a flash of light, and screwed itself on.

“Done.”

He tapped the end, making sure it was secure, then put the gun away, and pulled up his shotgun from his belt. “Okay, now I need a pump shotgun to replace this, and a silencer to go with it.”

His double barrel shotgun disappeared from his hands, and in it's place appeared a larger hunting shotgun, though with the stock removed and the handle formed like a pistol grip. On the end was a silver silencer, though somewhat wider than his rifle's new silencer. It looked odd, to have a chrome metallic extension on the dark metal and wood mix of the shotgun, but he didn't care.

“Next.” Discord said in a bored tone.

He put the weapon in the rift, since he could no longer attach it to his waist. He looked down at his stash, to find that the only thing left was a single gold bar. He thought about what he could find useful, knowing that the disguise wouldn't be a problem once he was on his merry way out of that town.

Ah ha! He pulled out his rifle again, and held it up. Let's see how far this wizards miracles can go.

“Can you get me a rangefinder for my rifle?”

The rifle floated for a second, as a black chunk of metal flew out of nowhere and attached to the side, just under the scope. A red light clicked on, blinked a couple of times, then god stuck on showing three dashes and an 'M'.

God damn it. Why can't it be in yards? Fucking Europeans.

With how everything seemed to be made smaller, to accommodate the size of ponies, it would be more difficult to tell distances through a scope by relative sizes, so he had decided that a rangefinder would be a useful addition to his rifle. He looked down at his gold bar, to see that it had disappeared, leaving him penniless. Not that pennies were useful to him anymore.

Meanwhile, Discord had been happily humming a tune, waiting for Kestral to pay attention. “Hmm. Done?” He asked.

“Yep! Thanks, I’ll just wait it out until nightfall, and I’ll get this last one done.”

“Very well. Don't disappoint~” His voice drifted off near the end.

With that, he was alone again. Kestral pulled his shotgun out of the rift, and his gun cleaning kit as well. He sat down and began slowly observing the gun, preparing to get to know the weapon more thoroughly.

Okay. Last house, and I move on to the next infestation.

Kestral watched another mansion from the alley, while leaning on the corner of a more modest home. He felt something. 'Content' was the most accurate word for it. He feels good that he was almost done protecting that town from nefarious activity, aside from his own of course.

But he also felt something else, staring at that house. He couldn't call it fear, no. He had to call it a warning, like he was being watched. It wasn't the spine-shivering tell-tale sign of an unfriendly stalker coming to watch how well you run with a bullet in your leg. It was simply a few hairs on the back of his neck on end. Something had to be setting them off, but he just couldn't figure out what.

Not going to figure that out standing around here.

He looked around and checked the alleyways, then ensured there were no flying ponies on that cloudless night. Once clear, he moved away from the modest home and hopped over the low fence. The cool, moist wind brushed his face as he sprinted towards the back side of the house, which oddly enough, showed no light to indicate life. He crossed the flower filled garden placed in the yard and reached the back door.

He leaned up against the cold marble wall next to the double doors, and made sure he could not hear a sound. He reached out and slowly turned the metal handle. To his moderate surprise, it failed to give resistance, letting him move through the door without hindrance. He moved through, but not without his suspicions.

So everyone happens to be asleep, and the doors are unlocked to boot? Smells like a fucking trap to me. I better move with caution.

He entered into a small dining hall, probably just for immediate family if the other mansions were an indication. A granite wall greeted him on the other side, with a wide walkway to the left. With nowhere else to go, he went left, walking as silently as he could.

After passing through, he entered a large atrium, fully open to doors and stairs, including a mostly removed second floor, with only floor that is required to enter second story rooms being present. His boots were rather silent, and as he stopped he noticed that he failed to hear anything else in the room....

...except for faint breathing.

The light sound of wings beating the air came from above, and he whipped his pistol out, aiming up. What he saw was four changelings diving about thirty feet away from him. What kept him from shooting right then was that one of them was different. As they landed, he saw that one of them was bulkier, with a set of blue plated armor lining every inch of it's body short of the horn, eyes, and wings. Instead of the bug-like eyes that the rest of them had, he had a set of what looked like cat eyes, with slits down the middle, that were tinted blue.

After a split second of green light emanating from his horn, all but the armored one began to back up, and head towards the stairs. Kestral pulled out his pistol, and aimed toward the group, but a bright green light flashed across his vision, and knocked the gun from his hand, sending in about ten feet away.

“Ah ah ah~ This fight, is between you and me.” The armored changeling said, with a thickly voice.

How the hell does he know my gun is a weapon? “A man of honor.” He said, trying to play off the soldiers pride. This one seems to be a leader of sorts. It might be useful to get some information out of him if possible. He made a slight bow. “A rarity these days.”

The bug scoffed. “No, more like a changeling of intellect. I can connect the dots.” He began walking towards Kestral, and Kestral began moving to the side, quickly sending them both into circling around each other. Though, Kestral was sure not to try to get too close to his gun, to make sure he did not get shot at with the magic bolt, and to ensure the changeling kept under the illusion of having the upper hand.

“I'm not stupid. My soldiers die from unknown projectile launchers, then you pull that out of your ass and aim at my changelings? You must think me a fool.” Like a truly overconfident leader, he allowed time for Kestral to speak

“I see no fools. Just soldiers, following orders on blind faith.” Kestral had no real idea what they had to say about the situation, but prying opinions out of them might give him an idea.

“Faith implies things left to chance. There is no chance here, only calculated victory!” The bug exclaimed.

Okay, so everything is planned out for you guys? Good. You having plans instead of going at random might make my job easier. “So you planned on having a human kill over a dozen changelings, then?”

Another bolt of green energy launched from his horn and whizzed by Kestral's head as he leaned to the side, letting him hear, for a split second, the crackling sound of intense heat. “Silence! I will not be abashed by one such as you!” He gave a vicious grin towards Kestral.

Kestral was prepared for another smart ass comment, but something else caught his attention. The three changelings that walked away earlier had come back, each one dragging the body of a pony just behind them down the stairs and towards the front door.

He gestured to the three. “Where are you taking them?” He asked in a harsh voice. Shit. Now I have to choose. He could have tried to stop the three changelings, and save the ponies right then and there, but that would have meant a one-on-four fight, and not in the hide-and-seek style that would have given him an advantage, either. On the other hand, if he let them be, he could take down the obviously higher ranking changeling, potentially gain insight on plans, and have Discord spend another day looking for their new hideout.

The worry must have really shown, because the bug gave an increasingly condescending look. “Oh, I hope you didn't plan on ruining our little operation in one night.” The bug mocked. “It would be such a shame if you did. Just like yours.” Another green bolt of magic past by his head, though that time he felt the heat coming off of it. “You're good at paying attention, at least.”

Kestral watched as the last of the three changelings made it outside, and in the end, decided to stay with the leader. If that one alone could shoot off magic spells and reduce his ability to fight so quickly, he didn't want to fight three others at the same time.

Kestral tried to pull all the information he could from his mind. If he could compromise the changeling emotionally, he'd be more likely to get information in the form of rants and monologues. “You're right, I am good at paying attention.” He claimed. “You know what I see? I seen a high ranking officer with a low ranking social status.”

“What are you getting at?” He demanded.

He gestured around him. “You're in a tiny little town, while the rest of your friends are up in the city, playing with the big wigs and major leagues. Do you think there isn't a reason for that? It's because they don't care for you. You're just a number to them.” He ranted on, trying to get the bug to believe him.

“Oh really?” he asked, skeptical. “They saved my life for this. They saved me from the previous tyrant, why throw me to the dogs now?”

“They don't need followers, or friends. What they want is a body count.” Kestral continued. “They need someone who is able to screw up so bad that everyone involved dies. They need you to leave no connection to this, so that the ponies will have all their attention drawn here, while your 'friends' go and have a party over how much easier their job is.”

“You lie.” He spat. “Carbon would never do that to me!” He gave a frustrated glare at Kestral. He then spoke in a slow and restricted tone. “I know you're trying to bait me. It won't work.”

Just a little progress is still progress. Kestral put his hands up, like he was almost defending himself from the words. “I'm just trying to let you know the truth. It's up to you to believe it.”

“Oh really.” He said, spite practically dripping from his fangs. “And what, pray tell, would happen if I were to believe in your lie?”

“I would give you a choice. One that you alone can make.” He gestured around them both. “You can believe in your friends, try to kill me, and die for nothing. Or,” he took a breath. “you can stop this. Turn yourselves in, and get away with your lives. If you choose peace when peace is possible, your guilt in this will diminish.” He tried to make the offer sound more enticing than dying, which was difficult when many people considered prison worse than death.

“You are a liar!” He shouted. “A liar and a hypocrite! We are called the deceivers, but it is you who spreads the filth!” As if to mark his point, the changeling shot another bolt of magic at Kestral's feet, which hit the floor instead. “We do what we do to survive. You kill us and thieve from ponies for fun.” The face was almost blank, but Kestral could tell by the squint of his eyes that he was seething.

“I'm trying to survive as well.” Kestral persisted. “I have to deal with the hatred, just as you do. But here, you have those you can call family. Here, I am alone. You squander your chance for freedom from this by opting to kill off innocent lives. I am earning my freedom by saving them.” He took a deep breath, pretending to be clearing his head from any misgivings by the changeling. “I still stand on my offer. If you help me stop the murdering of ponies, I will do what I can to help you. Your only other option is to die with the rest of your friends.”

Kestral tried to make the ultimatum sound as appealing as possible. He tried to actually put emotion into the speech, instead of just making a dry offer and watching the bug refuse. He did this because he sympathized a small amount with the changelings. He knew what it was like to be on the run, because someone else squandered his name. But the sympathy ended where strictly survival actions did as well. He did not care for killing people that did not deserve it. Part of his hatred for it was derived from his morals, but another part was derived from why he was on the run in the first place.

“Silence!” He shouted, clearly annoyed. “I am tired of you trying to trick me into betraying my kin! My loyalty is not so easily destroyed!”

Kestral dodged another bolt, then another, as they both stopped circling each other, knowing that he had failed to convince the changeling to find a way out of this. He was saddened, slightly, that the bug would not give up, but could only guess that the changeling saw nothing more than a lying devil in him.

Another green ball of energetic death passed him by. But I’m not going to let that little shit kill me. Or anyone else for that matter.

Kestral used his telekinesis to pull his pistol back from the ground and into his hand. While dodging the magic bolts as best as he can, he aimed his gun at the armored changeling. Just before he pulled the trigger, the bright blue magical shield Kestral despised surrounded the bug, giving a highlighted overlay of his body.

Kestral waited. While the shield went up, the bolts of energy stopped entirely. It seemed that the changeling could only do one at a time, which meant it left Kestral just as protected as the insect.

“If I had to guess, I would say that it must take a lot of concentration to hold up that spell. You can't go on forever.” He pestered the bug.

“I can go on longer than you can!”

Subtle. Real subtle.

Before anything else happened, the changeling charged at Kestral, attempting to spear him head on. Instead of side stepping, Kestral jumped up, letting the barely-three-foot-tall changeling to go clear under him.

He turned around, and pulled out his shotgun from the rift, throwing his pistol in there for the time being. The bug whipped around in a low stance, steeling itself for whatever attack Kestral had.

Kestral pulled the trigger on the gun, releasing a spray of lead across the changeling's armor. The blue shield burst into nonexistence. The changeling swayed in stance a bit, but shook its head and blinked one of its eyes quickly. As the new layer of energy engulfed the bug from horn to hooves, Kestral could hear him mutter slightly. “My eye...”

Damn. Must have missed everything important going through. Guess his armor is good stuff. He looked at the horn, which was aimed for another charge at him. I wonder if that's important? It seems to be where all his magic is coming from.

The changeling made another pass, only barely missing Kestral with the jagged tip. Kestral put his shotgun back and brought out his pistol, already thinking of a plan. Gun at the ready, he waited for the bug to stand still. Unfortunately, instead of charging again, the insect took flight, giving a mild surprise to Kestral

Well. Let's see if this works.

Kestral jumped, and disappeared in a shroud of darkness, surely confusing the changeling. He reappeared above the bug, landing on his back. Kestral pulled out his knife with his spare hand as his weigh caused the bug to quickly drop towards the ground. He put the barrel of his pistol against the changeling and pulled the trigger. The shield dispersed, and he swung his knife at a wing. The appendage sliced off without resistance, sending them both straight to the ground.

“M- my- my wing! You'll pay for that you filthy hairless beast!!” He called out in a half panic.

Kestral remained silent, and did his best to pin down the bug. He grabbed the horn and placed his pistol against the base. He pulled the trigger in quick succession. The first bullet had once again displaced the shield, but the second bullet did not get blocked by magic, so it hit its mark, chipping off a large portion of the chitin horn. Where the chunk was missing, a blue-green light traveled in beams and swirls, as if trying to find the piece of horn again. The light would have been calming, even, if not for the fight that took place.

“My horn! How dare you desecrate my horn!?! I will end you with a painful death!!” His low and solid voice became shrill and fearful, knowing he could not win against his opponent.

Kestral took another shot, since the bug could not get his shield up again. Another chunk of horn went missing, on the other side of the horn. The light became frantic, and hyper, and began pouring out of the horn, like it was excess to the normal amount. Or, perhaps, like it was bleeding out of the bug. The changeling's face contorted into a look of focus, and the magic began moving aggressively, pumping up towards the tip and turning into a solid green-blue light.

“I will not...die...today!” He proclaimed, as the magic formed together along his horn.

Then Kestral pulled the trigger.

The bullet passed through the base of the horn, cutting it off completely and sending fragments back. The charged up light splattered through the air, given no direction, only force. The magic hit the changeling, knocking him down and hitting his head against the marble floor. Kestral was hit with the small blast, and was pushed onto his back.

The light that hit him, however, did not leave. It attached to him, like tiny worm parasites on a host. It moved across him, and absorbed into his skin, sending pain into his nerves. He felt heavy and closed his eyes for a brief second.

In that small amount of time with his eyes closed, he saw wondrous things. He saw sights that would amaze some, and strike fear and awe into others. He saw thousands of changelings, gathered like a family, all covered with different shades of green aura. They flew about in a dimly lit mountain, hollowed out and filled with copious amounts of biological goop, pods, eggs and other alien material. He felt a thousand voices fill his head, like they were prodding him for his name. Not what he was doing there, or what he was. Just his name.

The voices became more aggressive, eagerly wanting a response, impatient for knowledge of the newcomer. The image of the changelings distorted, and became a mess of grays, blacks, greens, and blues. In the middle of the image came the only clear thing he could make out. A pair of green, cat-like eyes stared at him, with the only coherent voice he could hear.

“Who are you?!” The female voice called out loudly. Not in anger, but of trying to override other thousand voices in his head. The other voices called out the question, repeating it until it was all that filled his head. He had to find a way to end it. He needed a way out.

“Kestral.” he said, not knowing if it was a thought or a statement. A burning sensation grasped his arm, but he ignored it.

The voices silenced, hushed down to whisper of confusion, as if the name itself was a foreign language. The colors faded, and the eyes simply disappeared.

His eyes flickered open. Only a moment had passed, and his senses were back to to his body. He sat up, and held his head in his hand, trying to massage away the minor headache he grew. In front of him was the enemy changeling, breathing heavily, as if standing alone could bring him to unconsciousness. Where his horn used to be, a jagged nub and a river of green blood took its place. One of his blue eyes was bloodshot, and covered in a milky layer of water and his life essence.

The bug walked over to Kestral, head low, trying to look menacing.

“You son of a bitch...You took away my horn...” He tried to smash Kestral's leg, but Kestral dodged well.

“You took away my wing...” He had another attempt, which failed more so.

“You took away my family!!” The bug jumped at Kestral, trying to land on top. Kestral counter-attacked by moving his torso back to the ground, and kicking a let straight at the bug's face as it got in range. The insect rolled back, weak from the pain he was enduring.

Kestral, on the other hand, regained his vigor, and made his way to the enemy, easily pinning him down. He put the gun against the bloodshot eye, only an inch away from it.

“I'm giving you a final chance. Give up.” He said.

The bug gave a tired laugh. “Why do you still offer me that?” He asked, giving in to his curiosity.

Because bullets are expensive. Kestral thought darkly. “Because I’m in control.” He asserted. “If you want to live to tell the tale of how you survived meeting a human, you'll take it. Dying here will get you nowhere, and will solve nothing. Killing innocent lives will not fix anything for you.” Sure, it would seem stupid to send off an enemy into the world, and let him tell everything he knows. But it was almost irrelevant. Three changelings had already made their way out after having seen him, and he had no idea just how much the bug had told his friends using that 'hive mind'.

It was too late to conceal his presence, so no real loss was to be had if he let one changeling live.

The bug scoffed. “Why save the innocent?” His voice slowly became more worn. “Let them fend for themselves. I care only about family.”

Kestral lightly stuck the barrel of the gun on the changeling's eye, and stared into it.

“Funny.... I was innocent once.”

Kestral pulled the trigger, letting nothing but the soft 'ting' of the blue helmet receiving a bullet slowed by gray matter fill the silence.

He began pulling off pieces of the armor, looking for anything that could tell him where the changelings may have gone. He threw the helmet away, and dug through the chest plate. He grabbed a parchment, and he pulled it out.

He unfolded it and began reading it. It gave information detailing a plan meant to be executed the next morning, involving assassination of up to six targets, along with random slaughter of additional targets to cover it up.

Shit. This can't wait another night.

He pulled out his cloth compass and pressed the circle repeatedly, desperately trying to get Discord's attention as soon as he could.

Tap tap tap taptaptaptaptap.

“What is it?” He asked, clearly annoyed. “What happened?”

“Plan's changed Discord.” He held up the note for reading. “They're gonna kill off as many of the 'Bearers' as they can, then add as many to the body count as possible.”

Kestral could have sword he heard the wizard gasp. “They're going to what?”

“You heard me.” He said. “Now do your magic tracking shit and help me find them before dawn. If they pull this at the town meeting, those ponies are done for.”

“I can't just up and find them! It takes time! How did you even lose them?!” Discord was clearly frustrated at the way the situation was turning out.

“They knew I was coming.” He defended himself. “I had to fight one-on-one while the minions ran off with three of the ponies.”

“Argh.” Discord contemplated the best way to fight it. “Very well. If there is a pony still in the house, get them out. Once you're done, get some rest. I'll try to look, but chances are you'll be putting that 'rifle' of yours to good use.”

He nodded. “Alright.”

“And Kestral?”

“Yes?” He asked.

“A suggestion; Don't miss.”

“Don't worry.” He said, as he began walking to the stairs. “I won't.”

Longsword released a held breath, hoping whatever laid behind the door was not as bad as he was told. He pressed forward with his hoof, hesitant to walk into the latest target.

His previous anger at hearing the news was replaced by growing fear and paranoia. Each death seemed to get progressively more bizarre. Markings written out in an unprecedented complicated language were read the night before. It took reading halfway through the marks for it to even occur that it was a language, and not random scratches. Piles of salt and sugar were measured and placed around changeling bodies, as if to summon some demon to come and take them over.

Things were escalating quickly, and he did not look forward to opening that door.

But the wood structure gave into his weight. It moved away and cleared the path he looked for. He walked, and turned to his right, going into the foyer. He immediately stopped, and his heart almost did as well.

The chandelier was moved off to the side of the room. In its place hung a changeling. He walked closer, and saw how the chain was looped in and out of every hole that could be seen on the poor soul's legs.

Sweet Celestia....

The body hung low, where the head was eye level to the average pony. The blue eyes were open, though one was bleeding, and looked as if the changeling himself was sending a warning from beyond the dead. Blood dripped into a pool on the ground, tainting the otherwise spotless marble with its evil.

He looked behind the body, and saw the guard he was supposed to meet. But the lower guard paid no mind. He was too busy looking at the messages wiped onto the wall with a red substance, in perfect earth pony, no less.

...blood... pony's blood....

He read it to himself. “The one thing that I have learned from playing hangman...” Fucker probably means hangpony. “...is that saying the wrong thing can get someone killed.” Another message was placed under that one, which simply read 'save the six'.

What the fuck?

He looked at the guard, who was awfully close to the wall, and making odd motions with his head...

“Are you licking the blood?!” He walked towards the guard.

The guard flinched, obviously not hearing the clopping of hooves earlier.

“I- I- It's not blood sir!!” He saluted.

“It's jelly!”

Author's Notes:

SUPER LATE because i went on a five day cruise.

Also, i just really don't think i put enough suspense to build up to the fight, but meh, i'm not good at suspense anyway.

Have a good read.