https://docs.google.com/document/d/15wB0u-UBcIHeYckJeZ6Ck4CB6EU9UYQCFHm4bhrmT3g/edit

Had a foreboding sign ever existed, the massive ceder blocking the way through the Sampan pass was proof of it. Only the faintest wind disturbed its needles, the dying ones gradually piling up below the fallen beast. The previous nights devastating storm had proven too much for the ancient tree; far above on the cliff sides, the ponies could see the splintered remains of a stump.

“Well, isn’t that convenient. A big-ass tree decided to fall on the narrowest part of the trail through the pass. And we can’t walk around it. Perfect. I get to lift everyone over.”

Break was making clear his disgust at the obvious solution to dealing with the obstacle. Unless there was some way to move it, having the pegasus carry them one at a time seemed to be the only option.

“You won’t even be able to lift me and Koi.” Iron Shod said.

The brown pony flicked his mane, perhaps a symbol of stubbornness. He was going to do it, regardless of what anypony told him. His pride as a stallion was now on the line.

“I got this.” He spat.

“Don’t waste your energy.” the grey stallion replied.

“It won’t be that hard.”

“There has to be another way.”

Twilight tried to cut in with little success. “Hey, uh... I could just--”

“If you have any bright ideas, skipper, shoot.”

“Just give me a minute to think.”

“Every minute we’re not moving is a minute lost.”

Sighing, Twilight turned her attention to the massive tree. A bit later, the forlorn plant had been safely cast away, shrouded in a purplish glow. Break and Iron Shod stared slack-jawed. With a smile, Twilight turned to them. A dull throbbing in the back of her head steadily intensified into rhythmic pounding, increasing with force by the second; A general wooziness descended on her skull as she felt her legs turn to jelly.

She blacked out.

* * *

Dancing figures were all about; fading in from the darkness, their incessant chanting had a vaguely demonic character.

In the utter blackness, Twilight stood with her back to an unseen wall. The wicked cacophony of mortality drew closer.

She tried to defend herself. A barrier. Lashing out with telekinetic power. Nothing worked. The figures reached out for her with vile claws.

There. On the ground. A blade.

She held it aloft with her magic.

With ruthless precision, she brought the blade down on the nearest assailant. It collapsed with a horrid scream, blood gushing from the missing section of her neck.

The other shades hesitantly slip away into the black.

Twilight looks at the body of the awful ghoul.

It is a pony.

* * *

Green locks tumbled over his backside as he shook his head in a futile effort to clear his thoughts. They were just now exiting the south end of the Sampan pass, all of them grateful to finally be out of the northern wilderness. Mane, ever the pessimist, did not seem to display any sort of external happiness. By and large, he hadn’t even noticed they were exiting the
mountains by the time noon rolled around.

He looked over to Koi, and the small lavender package secured on his back. She had strained herself too hard, that much was evident. Though he was not at all knowledgeable of the ins and outs of magic, even he could tell that she had probably bitten off more than she could chew. All too often, he found himself tensing when he spotted an irregularity in the unconscious unicorns breathing. Thus, he shook his head in an attempt to stop thinking about the filly.

What the hell am I expecting, anyways? I’m an asshole and the biggest coward I’ve ever known.

A lump formed in his throat as he thought back to many years ago. Regret and guilt were they only things he had felt since that day. Not a single moment passed without demeriting himself; If anypony in the worlds opinion ever mattered, then surely ones own opinion would matter the most. He hated himself. He hated his past and how he had dragged himself along since then. He felt lost.

I don’t deserve her. She shouldn’t even consider stooping as low as me.

The group had stopped a few miles south of the pass, temporarily setting up camp until Twilight came to. Rather than help set up a tent, Mane found himself slipping into the woods. Loneliness was his most needed companion at the moment.

* * *

Her head hurt, that was for sure. She realized her eyes were still closed Groggily, the two slits peeled open. She was in her tent, though she had no recollection of how she got there. A canteen was suddenly presented before her. Noticing how cotton-like her mouth was, Twilight drank eagerly. Resting her head back on the mat, she closed her eyes again, the light having blinded her to a degree.

She was very surprised to see Trixie floating upside down above her when she opened them again. Looking back over the top of her head, the mare realized that Trixie was actually just standing behind her and looking down at the incapacitated unicorn.

“Trying to lift that whole tree by yourself? You should know your limits.”

Though she said nothing, Twilight’s eyes asked what happened.

“You passed out from over-exertion.”

She tried to flip over and stand up, but Trixie laid a hoof on her shoulder.

“Just rest.”

“What happened.” Twilight croaked.

“Well, you moved the tree, that’s what happened. And then you fainted.”

Her brain felt like it had gone through a blender. The pain was focused around the general area where her horn jutted from her cranium. A groan escaped her lips.

“So where am I right now, if that’s the case?”

“We’re about three hours from Yearling City. Right now we’re taking a break until you’re back on your feet. It’s mid-afternoon at the moment. I’d suggest you get rested up soon if you want to sleep in a proper bed tonight. Otherwise, it’s another night of camping out.”

“You carried me all the way from the pass?”

“Not me. Koi did. You should go thank him when you’re up to it. Anyways, I was just waiting here to brief you when you woke up.” Suddenly shifting in perspective, the mare began to speak in her trademark pedantic voice. “Having done so, Trixie shall take her leave.”

The unicorn turned to exit the tent. A rock suddenly whizzed out of nowhere and pegged Twilight in the side, leaving a
visible welt.

“Ow!”

Trixie sighed. “Keep that barrier ready.” She stepped outside.

Try as she might, Twilight could not force herself to rest. She was exhausted, but not in a physical manner. The past week on the road was taking its toll on her psyche. Even before then. she realized. Ever since Canterlot, ever since that conversation with Celestia, she hadn’t felt quite right.

When was the last time I smiled?

Her body longed for many things, and among rest as one of the needs was food. Empty pangs in her stomach told her she needed to get some grub. Not wanting to further exert her dwindling magical energy, Twilight crawled over to her saddlebags and pulled out a few of Applejack’s pastries.

The baked goods were starting to lose the quality that earned them the the title ‘good’. Regardless, as she bit into the stale fritter, Twilight felt a wave of rejuvenation go through her body. It wasn’t enough to kick start her system, but at the very least the throbbing was slowly ebbing.

You can trust her.

Boreas’ voice resonated in her mind soon after she adorned the crown.

She has only the best intentions for you.

Why the sudden solidification of opinion?

Just observation. There is nothing unsavory in her mind, as far as I can glean.

So, what? Start being really friendly with her?

Only if you want to. For the sake of professionalism, I’d advise against it.

Professionalism.

All I’m saying is that she won’t murder you in your sleep. What you want to do with that knowledge is your decision.

Well, what would you do?

Don’t act any differently.

* * *

It was three hours of steady marching to Yearling City, wherein the next fighter awaited them. Twilight was back on her feet, if barely. Her head still felt more tangled than a manticores mane, and her capacity for magic was barely a fraction of the normal. Even her legs were on the verge of giving out. She stumbled along, barely forcing herself to keep up with the others.

Trixie, rather than taking her usual post at the point or flank of the band, was walking besides the ambling mare. The two were wordless, declining to communicate telepathically. It seemed all that the mare was doing was helping the other keep in pace with the group. The black-clad mare was levitating her strange magical tablet in front of her. Twilight couldn’t resist peeking at what the device displayed; Trixie made no attempt to stop her, assuming she even noticed the spying mare.

Oddly enough, it was a dossier about Wood Wey, the next mercenary they were going to pick up. The same one Twilight had in her saddlebags at the moment, in fact. She checked it off as further evidence that Trixie was in fact sent by Celestia. With nothing better to do, she read through the parts of the document that we’re visible to refresh her memory on the fighter.

Wood Wey claimed the surname of a prestigious family that had lived in the southern regions of Equestria for countless centuries. Yearling City, the town in which their manor was located, had long been regarded as the closest thing to a resort and artists haven in the borderlands. Even after the schism between the north and south, the Wey’s remained on their ancestral lands.

That much had actually been Twilight’s own background knowledge from studying the Equestrian aristocracy. Another tidbit of trivia, which the dossier did in fact mention, was that it was a family tradition for the stallions to take the role of the royal guard of Princess Celestia herself; for generations the Wey’s dedicated the prime years of their lives to protecting and
servicing the most powerful figurehead in the world.

The stallion was listed as having served a single year as a royal guard. The reason for his early dismissal was not detailed in the dossier. However, of note was that he had spent six years after that in the Ministry of Intelligence Ground Operations Division. The unicorn seemed to have a knack for long-range extermination and ambush. If his combat records were any indication of their skill, he would surely be as much a boon to the team as Jutsu.

“Interesting of Celestia to pick him for this.” Trixie commented, so quiet it seemed to be spoken to herself.

Twilight’s ears perked. “Hm? What makes you say that?”

Trixie shot her a look that seemed to suggest she was surprised Twilight had heard. “I’ve worked with this stallion before. And from what I’ve learned about him, I can’t imagine why she would recommend him for this.”

“...why?”

The blue mare shook her head. “Later. Maybe after we’ve actually met with him.”

* * *

Late afternoon. That time of day where the sun hangs at an angle that is strangely indescribable. One may feel that the day is close to drawing to an end, but it is in fact just beginning as the night kicks in.

With that strangely poetic thought running through his head, Iron Shod found himself dropping back in the group towards Twilight and Trixie. He figured this was as good a time as any to talk to the strange duo consisting of a pacifist and the sadist. Soon he found himself walking side by side to the right of Trixie, with Twilight on her left.

“Hello, Mister Shod.”

“Trixie.”

“Here to chat?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“I suppose you want to ask why I’m here. That’s what everyone here is wondering.”

Iron Shod nodded, persing his lips as he did so.

“If you must know, I’m here to make sure this filly next to me doesn’t get her head cracked open by a bandit; or, at least, not without a fight. And that is all I have to say.”

Twilight looked over at the two of them and gave an exasperated shake of her head.

“Fair enough. Twilight may trust you, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us will. I don’t give a damn if you are a psychotic stalker or just a MoI spook sent by Celestia; Until I know more about you and what your game is, I’ve got my eye on you.”

Trixie snorted. “A bit dramatic, hm? Don’t worry, if I was going to kill all of you, I’d have already done it.”

“Your head would be on a stick before you could even get a drop of your piss-mop magic out of that horn.”

Her voice suddenly went rigid. “Iron Shod, Male, Earth. Designation EFMC Battle Master. Close quarters, Martial arts, Command. Numerous instances of collaboration with Ministry of Intelligence. On active alert. Currently out of Equestrian Borderlands. Status: Green.” Flashing a smile, she added, “Life saved by active field agent Trixie during Operation Thunderhead--though he doesn’t even know it.”

He looked at her dumbfounded.

She gave her trademark grin, that being insufferably snobbish. “I know everything about you. I know your history. I know how you think, I know how you act. If I had to guess, at the moment you have at least three planned physical strikes should this conversation turn to blows, the one you go with depending on where in your walk cycle you are. You have also considered what the best method to incapacitate me with little struggle would be. Referencing your field tests from a decade ago, you likely have two or more escape routes in mind should a retreat be necessary; perhaps even four or more if you are still as sharp as you were ten years ago. Shifting your weight towards your hind legs tells me that you are prepared for any danger that requires lethal response. Tenseness in your forelegs signals to me that you are preparing to grab your bludgeons at any moment.”

Iron Shod tried to keep a stone face, but a slight twitch in his eye gave away the fact that Trixie was eerily accurate in her predictions. Assuming they even were predictions. The mare continued with her dissertation of the stallion.

“I’m sure you have defeated many a unicorn in one-on-one combat, and I must applaud you for your excellent foresight into the future when you came to talk to me. However, what you are not aware of is that I am currently poised to telepathically tunnel into your mind and can kill you in any number of ways in a heartbeat well before you could lift a single hoof. Besides that, I have several sharpened stones levitating one-hundred yards above us that are ready to descend on your head at a moments notice. Also, if I may, I’d be surprised if you could even touch me before I snap your neck and gouge out your eyes with my bare hoofs. Just because I’m a filly unicorn doesn’t mean I am incapable of close quarters combat, caballo-a-caballo.”

She stared straight at him with a malicious glint in her eyes. “Don’t fuck with Trixie, and Trixie won’t fuck with you.”

Iron Shod’s response was to silently plod back up to the front of the line, cursing.

“That was unnecessary.” Twilight croaked.

“Maybe. But it was damn fun.”

* * *

Far above, Break was flying lazy circles, watching the landscape. Yearling City was in sight from the aerial vantage, some two hours walking distance by his reckoning. Wispy columns of smoke and scattered farmlands were the only visible signs of civilization.

Something caught his eye in the distance; a bird. An extremely large on at that. He focused his optics on the creature. Shortly thereafter, he raised a hoof to his ear piece.

“There’s a Hammer Hoof mercenary flying away from Yearling City. Griffin. Injured. I’ll see what’s up.”

* * *

His Hammer Hoof combat trio had gotten jumped by a group of freelancers in the middle of the town according to the griffin, who identified himself as Saxon Stormfeathers. At the moment, the ponies were positioned on the outskirts of the town, squatting in a forest overlooking farmlands. Twilight had taken the opportunity to practice some of her newly learned first aid, bandaging up a nasty gash along the winged beast.

“Our unicorn, Dead Eye Duncan, got a face full of steel pellets. Dropped instantly. Enemy unicorn outta no where managed to get us off guard.”

His face contorted in a visage of agony as a new coating of anti-septic was applied.

“No idea what happened to Raw Apple, though. That crazy mare bolted off into the fields. Said something about laying a trap. I was on the way to the nearest Hammer Hoof way station to get some back-up when you spotted me.”

Iron Shod paced back and forth, occasionally examining the muscular griffin, who was easily twice his size.

“Freelancers, you said? Sounds like a hit team.”

“My battle trio is one of the best reputed in the corps. We were cutting into somepony's profits, evidently. Damn shame, too. Duncan was one of the best magic users I’ve ever served under. And Apple? She’s almost magical as well with the way she handles explosives. Or was. Sure hope she made it...”

The stallion motioned for the others to huddle, separate from the wayward mercenary.

“I have no obligations towards the Hammer Hooves. It’s better to not get involved with them when possible.”

Twilight piped up. “We can’t just leave that mare out in the fields. Those free lancers are going to look for her.”

“Mercenaries killing mercenaries. Happens all the time.” he grunted in response.

Twilight dug her hooves into the dirt. “We’re helping.”

“No, we are not. With all due respect, filly, we are going to get to Breezemane Manor.”

She solemnly shook her head and steeled her gaze. “I have the ultimate authority here as your pseudo-employer on behalf of Princess Celestia. We are helping.”

The two glowered at each other for a while as the others watched the conflict unfold with morbid curiosity.

Iron Shod cursed under his breath. “Fine. I take no responsibility of things go wrong.” He kicked the dirt, symbolizing his deference of command, at least for the time being.

Turning, the unicorn relayed a query to the mercenary. “What were you doing in Yearling City?”

“We are-- or, we we’re on an escort assignment for our demolitions expert, Apple. She was hired out on a special contract to some classified client. Me and Dead Eye were there to make sure she got into the contacts hands undamaged.”

“It would seem you failed in that regard.” Break mused.

The mercenary glowered but said nothing.

Twilight turned back to the huddle with the others. “Oh, I just remembered! That ‘Raw Apple’ mare is our last contact after Wood Wey.”

Iron Shod snorted. “Imagine that.” he remarked, his sarcasm evident.

“It would appear we need to help anyways, for the sake fo the mission.” Jutsu dryly noted. The others nodded in agreement.

Facing the griffin, Iron Shod told him that they were the contacts they were scheduled to meet.

“We need to pick her up. Alive, preferably. To which farmlands did our demolitions expert flee?”

* * *

“Raw Apple, this is Saxon. You still alive, down there?”

There was no audible reply, but a green acknowledgement light in his optical device confirmed she was kicking. The griffin switched his ear piece to a different channel.

“Iron Shod, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hunkered down in the northeast fields. Hiding. Can’t talk.”

“The freelancers?”

“Sweeping the fields. They’ll find her within thirty minutes at this rate. Suns going down around then, too.”

“Should we jump em?”

“Negative. She’s waiting for them to come to her. Wait for the booms.”

* * *

Burnt orange was the dominant color of the sky, signifying the fleeting presence of the dusk. Four ponies, dressed down in battle armor, were methodically cruising through the fields southwest of the town of Yearling City. Their prize was close. They could feel it in their bones.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

A familiar sound. Both terrifying and comforting. Death was close at hand, but at the very least it would be swift. The four ponies examined the ground about them, their hooves rooted in place.

Six metal discs protruded from the earth. One of them, a unicorn, threw up a barrier. The mercenaries we’re in the worst position possible; spread out in such a way that their spellcaster couldn’t effectively protect them all at those distances. None of them moved, fearing that they may set off the mines, or play the hand of whoever had planted them.

From the branches of a nearby tree, a yellow mare spotted black with a leaf green mane dropped down to the dirt ground. In her mouth was a small cylinder. A detonator. The pony waved to them, and cried out around the device.

“Say hello tuh Dead Eye fer me in hell!”

A series of concussive thuds were all that signified the demise of the assassins. Their remains were scattered like cremation ashes across the immediate one hundred yard radius, mostly in chunks.

* * *

“Raw Apple, at yer service.”

Her accent had a tinge to it; a rustic quality. It was subdued, though, as if the mottled dark yellow mare was trying to bury it under an air of professionalism. She brushed a few stray green hairs out of her eyes.

“Apple? As in the Apple family?”

“Just ah name, Miss... sorry. I never caught yer name.”

“Twilight.”

“Hmph.” She didn’t seem impressed. “So yer the contact? Along with the rest of these ponies?”

“Yes.”

Raw Apple paced around the rough circle of ponies, examining each of them. An older grey Earth pony, a pegasus that
had surely seen better days, a massive orange stallion, a pretty enough white mare, an oddly monochromatic colt, a green colt that seemed not to be entirely in the moment judging by his glazed over eyes, and Jutsu.

Her eyes went wide as she passed by the maroon warrior. Clearly, their newest acquaintance had recognized the fighter. Had she been saying anything, Raw Apple would have been choking on her words at the moment. Shaking her head, she continued her silent circling around them.

The only two left to finish the group were two unicorn mares; one lavender, one blue. Oddly enough, the one in blue was wearing an all-black body suit. The lavender one was boring in appearance in comparison. She noted that the blue one seemed a tad out of place. Perhaps it was body language, perhaps it was something else entirely, but all she knew was that this black clad pony was not necessarily with the rest of them.

Finishing her impromptu examination, the mercenary shrugged. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”

Iron Shod raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you need to go pay your respects to your fallen companion?”

Saxon, who had been standing off to the side, cut in. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll pick up Duncan and bring him home. Give him a proper Hammer Hoof discharge.”

The stallion muttered something under his breath and turned away. The griffin raised a feathered eyebrow but kept his beak shut. He turned to Raw Apple.

“It’s been a pleasure serving with you, Apple. And to the rest of you: Good luck. I don’t know where you are going, but if
it requires the services of one of us Hammer Hooves, it must be some deep shit.”

He leaned in close to the yellow mare and whispered something in her ear. She solemnly nodded in reply. With great bravado, the two took a step away from each other and snapped to attention; an improvised ceremony of parting. The griffin, with great force, lifted into the air and moved towards Yearling City to recover the body of their slain ally.

There was an awkwardly pregnant pause that Twilight found herself forced to break.

“Wellll... we still need to pick up our last pony. He’s here in Yearling as well.”

“Who is he?” Raw Apple asked.

“A certain ‘Wood Wey,’ by my understanding. We’re meeting him at Breezemane Manor, wherever that is.”

A mischievous smile emerged on the mares face. “Breezemane? That’s on the other side of town. I think you’ll like it there...”

* * *

Decadence was the lifestyle of choice for Wood Wey. Their first steps into the foyer were greeted by twin staircases winding up to a second floor, marble statues lined against the intricate carpets of zebra design. Before that, they had walked through a wrought iron gate up a road flanked by expansive fruit orchards, personal farmlands and towering hedges as far as the eye could see in the lingering minutes of daylight. The entire mansion was made of some exquisite, unidentifiable wood that must have been imported.

An older stallion sporting a dapper bow tie greeted them at the door.

“Greetings, distinguished guests, and welcome to Breezemane Manor, the ancestral residence of the Wey family. If I may, follow me to the guest room. The master will greet you shortly.”

For the second time in the past few weeks, the farmers were thrust into the exceedingly unfamiliar environment of Equestrian decadence. In this case, however, the display of wealth was far less subtle and refined, unlike the thoughtful designs of Canterlot. They wordlessly followed the butler through the main hallway. Trixie and Raw Apple trailed behind, feeling a bit out of place in regards to the others.

The butler opened an exceptionally carved door into a large living room. White seemed to be a common theme, as the entire space seemed to be adorned in the color. He gestured to the sofas near a stone fireplace.

“Make yourself at home.” he then motioned to a small bell sitting on an end table. “Ring that, and one of the maids will be happy to oblige any indulgence. I’m sure you must be hungry after being on the road. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall alert Sir Wey to your presence.”

With a curt bow, the servant left the ponies to themselves. None of them sat, preferring to instead scatter about the room, analyzing their surroundings. Trixie, on the other hand, decided to take a spot on the luxurious furniture. None of them felt relaxed enough to let their guards down. Aside from that, they’d probably ruin the furniture with their collected filth accumulated from a week in the bush.

Break was positioned by a window overlooking an interior courtyard, his wings stretched out in alert. Iron Shod walked over to him and whispered something only the two of them could hear. The pegasus nodded, agreeing with whatever the stallion had said.

Three of the farmers, Mane, Pan and Rise, were warming themselves besides the fireplace, unsure of where else they could be while looking like they had purpose. As had been typical of the past few days, Jutsu and Koi were standing together near the doorway in silence.

Twilight, wanting to take advantage of the brief sample of high life, was admiring a sizable portrait of a dashing gentlecolt, no doubt one of the former owners of the mansion. Their new ally, Raw Apple, joined her and gave the unicorn a playful punch to the leg.

“So what’s yer story? Why you the ring leader in this here group? Sent by Princess Celestia herself?”

Twilight was a bit surprised by the upfrontness of the earth pony. “Oh, well. I’m her personal student. I guess you could say I’m the prized pupil.”

“Hmph. So I guess this fancy mansion ain’t too great compared to some of the things you’ve seen.”

“I suppose. I haven’t actually been in any environment like this for quite some time.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’ve been living in a small town far from the big cities of Equestria Proper for the past year or so. My visits to the royal palace have been sparse as of late.”

“Where exactly? Just cause I spend most my time in the borderlands doesn’t mean I don’t know what the real Equestria looks like on a map.”

“Ponyville.”

The yellow mare was quiet for a moment, trying to formulate her next words. “Ponyville, huh?” A passive aggressive inflection in her voice signaled that she was not entirely fond of the area. Raw Apple seemed to choke back the words, though, as if she hadn’t meant them. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound like that. Ahm just not too fond of some folks livin out that way. Just forget I ever brought it up.”

Twilight raised an incredulous eyebrow, but didn’t act on it. Shrugging, she turned back to the painting. She could interrogate the newcomer later; for now, all she wanted was some peace and quiet as she felt the last remnants of her headache ebbing away. The masterful artwork on display did wonders to her scattered mind. It was as if they were combs straightening out the mess that was her brain.

She trotted over to the couches and collapsed into the forgiving cushions, across from Trixie. The other unicorn seemed oddly serene despite the surroundings. Twilight closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to pick up the conversations of the others.

Raw Apple was making her rounds, individually introducing herself to each member of the group. Her tone had become more professional, contrary to the affable language she had been using around Twilight. When she came to Iron Shod and Break, it was almost a formal military greeting of sorts. They exchanged their current employments and their specializations, then offered affirming nods to each other before parting ways.

Jutsu’s only response to the mare’s overly enthusiastic greeting was a subtle tilt of the head. It seemed that she did not disdain Raw Apple so much as she was annoyed by the earth pony. Based on appearances alone, Jutsu looked weathered enough to be her mother. A hint of condescension was detectable in her brief acknowledgement of the yellow mare, who responded by prudishly backing away, head bowed.

Having acquainted herself with everypony, Raw Apple sat down on the third unoccupied couch. Twilight was having a difficult time determining if the mare was clashing aesthetically with the room. Yellow with black spots and a green mane was not a typical color palette one would come across in Equestria. Place that smattering of hues on a pure white couch and a bystander couldn’t help but think how ghoulish the whole thing appeared.

Still, she wasn’t ugly. Though Twilight was no fashionista by any means, even she could tell that had Raw Apple been given the gift of a more ‘normal’ coat color, she might have been walking down a models runway rather than sprinting across a battlefield. Her general demeanor certainly didn’t show that she was a contract killer working for the most reputed private military corporation in the world; if anything, it was almost child-like. A feigned ignorance of her surroundings, as
indicated by her disregard for social norms. Privacy and personal space being the main culprits.

His entrance had been so lacking in pomp and circumstance that at first, Twilight thought the green unicorn stallion was another servant. There was no aristocratic flair to his appearance--nor was there any sort of domineering overtone in his stride. Wood Wey, despite his background as a member of one the most powerful political families in Equestria, carried himself in a surprisingly apathetic manner.

“Twilight Sparkle, I presume?”

He stopped in front of the lavender mare, standing at rigid attention. It was making Twilight very uncomfortable.

“...Wood Wey?”

“That would be me.”

The two stared at each other for an awkwardly prolonged period of time. Wood Wey auspiciously coughed.

“If I may, I would like to invite you and your companions to stay here in Breezemane Manor for the night before setting
off tomorrow. Supper will be served in a few minutes, and I’m sure you will enjoy some warm food and proper shelter after hiking through the wild for so long. If you would follow me...”

He did not even look back as he walked out the door, having exited as quietly as he entered. With nothing else to do, the ten of them followed.

Once more in the spacious main throughway of the mansion, they followed Wey towards the end to a pair of enormous wooden doors. Pushing his way in, he gestured for the others to enter as he held it open.

They found themselves in a dining hall of magnificent proportions. A dazzling chandelier hung from the ceiling, which itself was adorned with frescoes of various events in pony history. Five massive tables stretching across the length of the room were completely set up with the various utensils and silverware needed to feed a crowd in excess of a couple hundred ponies.

Wood Wey closed the door behind them and walked up to Twilight. “Normally I’d use one of the auxiliary dining rooms for a group as small as this, but they are currently not being maintained. So, by all means, sit wherever you’d like and the servers will bring food to us.”

Wanting to avoid another awkward moment of inaction, Twilight quickly decided that the section of the closest table between the middle and far right end was the optimal spot to fit the ten of them. She hurried over and sat down. Wood Wey took the place across from her, and the others filtered in around them. The farmers, unused to chairs in general, tried as best they could to do what they did.

As Wood Wey had said, within moments large trays of food were deposited within the area around them. An attendant standing nearby rattled off the items as the metal covers were removed from each platter.

“Mushroom soup to clean your pallet and rejuvenate the sense, Alfalfa and feta cheese salad for balance, honey glazed corn on the cob, potato fritters, string beans with a garlic dressing, and classic Cavallerian spaghetti. Dessert will be mango custards imported from the zebra lands. Can I interest any of you in any adult beverage from our wine cellar?”

Twilight, who wasn’t of drinking age, and didn’t consider herself a drinker regardless, shook her head. The others did so as well, perhaps not feeling that the loosening effects of intoxicants were not the ideal conditions to be in at this point in time.

“Uh, you have any Buckweiser?”

The attendant blankly stared at Break, and gave an irritated tick under his breath. He shuffled off through a door in search of the inferior booze. In the meantime, they prudently shoveled food onto their plates and dug in. The masterfully prepared dishes were a welcome divergance from cold beans and packaged oat bars.

Some time later, with their stomachs filled to content, they followed Wood Wey once again through the passages of the mansion. They found themselves standing in front of a dead end wall. The unicorn touched his horn to a nearby bust of some ancient aristocrat, and the wall slid apart to reveal a surprisingly modern interior. Upon entering, Twilight realized that they were in a conference room of sorts.

They all sat at a pure black table. Monitors surrounded them, all humming with a luminescent glow that reminded Twilight of Trixie’s Personal Magic Assistant. Wood Wey sat at the end of the table in a position that allowed him full view of every pony in the room, as well as having all monitors available to him to look at.

“I got the message from Celestia. The only information I received was who the contact was, that being you, the bare bones of the job at hand, and how I fit into this. Aside from that, I was instructed to house you and whomever you brought with you in this mansion, and that at some point it was of special importance to get a full briefing from you in regards to the mission. With that said, perhaps you would like to explain more fully what is going on?”

Not hesitating, Twilight jumped right into the swing of things. “We are headed deep into southern Umala with the intent of protecting these farmer’s-” she nodded to the ponies in question. “-village. Following the barley harvest, fourty bandits will descend on the village and plunder it without resistance.”

Wood Wey nodded. “That much I know. Aside from that, though, everything is a mystery to me. If you don’t mind me asking, why did the Princess deem it necessary to expend valuable resources on protecting a nameless village in a hostile country? If the only resistance expected is earth ponies, then two or three unicorns would be more than enough to
adequately protect it.”

“Personal reasons, and the fact that these four farmers traveled all the way to Canterlot from their home, risking life and limb, on the impossible hope of somehow finding outside help. As for why there are so many of us, I can’t answer that. All I can say is that we should expect the unexpected.”

“So she felt some sort of moral obligation to help in any way she could?”

“I can’t speak on her behalf regarding this. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Hmph. If she really wanted to help, she should just take over Umala and rule it her own way.”

She stared at him with a look that suggested he had chosen the wrong words. Realizing his mistake, he changed the subject.

“What’s our time frame? How long do we have to get to the village before this barley harvest?”

“Nineteen days after tonight, assuming the villagers can delay the barley harvest that long. If all goes to plan, it’s about one and a half to two weeks on hoof from here to the village.”

The stallion furrowed his brow in thought. “That gives us one, maybe two weeks to prepare a defense. Of course, we have three unicorns, so I can’t see this being a problem. What sort of resistance are we expecting?”

Twilight pulled out her intel folder from her saddlebags, flipped it open to a page and pushed it over to Wood Wey. He began to read it out loud.

“Information scarce. Expected armaments: Assorted hoof-blades, bludgeons, shoulder guns, steel plate armor.” He looked up and turned to address Twilight. “I fail to see how this requires six of us. The only remotely dangerous tool they have are those shoulder guns.”

He turned through the folder until he found what he was looking for: A blueprint for a gun of Umalian design. “Ah, yes. A blunderbuss. They really have no chance against us if that’s the best they have.”

“Well, whatever. She sent six of us even if that many is unnecessary. The more the merrier.”

He nodded in agreement, then turned his attention to the monitors on the wall. An overhead image of the village appeared.

“Now, I received some pegasus-taken surveillance from Princess Celestia that she asked we look over prior to heading out”

The six of them, plus Trixie, began to discuss the details of the task ahead as night fell on the borderlands surrounding them.

* * *

Wood Wey strode down the hall towards the guest wing, intending to check in on each pony to insure that they were as comfortable as they could be. It was very possible that for some of them, this would be their last night in a proper bed. Assuming Twilight and Trixie were as talented as him when it came to magic, then they should be fine.

Trixie. That wasn’t a name he hadn’t heard in a long time. He shook his head to wipe away the thought and then knocked on the first door. The black and white stallion, one of the farmers, greeted him.

“Pan, is it?”

He nodded.

“Ah, good. Just checking in to make sure you are comfortable.”

Pan gave him a once-over, then leaned in and whispered in his ear. “We’re sort of in the middle of something, if you don’t mind. But we are fine, thank you.”

As he said so, he gestured back towards the room. Wood Wey, understanding the implication, backed away and allowed Pan to shut the door.

He continued to the next room, where he was greeted by the hulking orange stallion who had introduced himself as Koi. Asking the same question, he received yet another satisfactory response.

The next room contained Iron Shod, whose only response was to stare at him and then close the door.

Break did the same thing, but in a far more aggressive manner.

The fifth door was opened by Mane, who offered the most normal exchange yet. Confident that his fellow green stallion was content with his furnishings, he walked to the next door.

“Jutsu.”

The maroon pony met his eyes. It was a tad unnerving.

“Uh... just checking in on everypony. You need anything?”

She spoke with surprising softness.. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

The door closed behind him as he turned away to the next room. Interacting with one of the deadliest warriors on the
planet had a tendency to make ponies jittery.

Raw Apple opened the next one, her cheery disposition a welcome change. She too, however, did not need any special accommodations.

Twilight, oddly enough, invited him in to talk.

* * *

“I’d be the first to admit that I’m a night owl. Staying up late just sort of grew on me.”

Wood Wey let himself into the room with slight apprehension, wondering what the mare unicorn had to say beyond business matters, which they had gone over quite thoroughly in the hidden conference room.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“I just want to know more about the ponies I’m going to be on the road with for the next month or so. This is as good a
time as any.”

“Fair enough. What in particular do you want to know?”

“Well, you could tell me about the Wey family. The extent of my knowledge peaks at knowing that you have a tradition of serving as Celestia’s personal guard, and that you yourself served under her for a year before moving on to... other
things.”

“Not much to say. Every stallion borne into this family becomes a guard when they are old enough. We’ve lived out here in the southern regions for many centuries, long before the break between the north and south. I guess we decided to stay here rather than move up to Canterlot because we were already so well established in Yearling.”

“How does that work? Working in Canterlot but living hundreds of miles away? Considering the chariot airspace restrictions, it must take weeks just to go back and forth.”

“As of late, Breezemane has becoming less and less populated. A lot of my family has been moving back into Equestria Proper. Occasionally they’ll pop back in here for a vacation, but some relatives I haven’t seen in years. I... personally prefer it here. There’s nothing for me up north.”

“What do you mean? You prefer the loneliness?”

“No, it’s just that, well, I’m not entirely welcome in Canterlot’s courts. If I lived up there, I’d have to find some non-government job. I prefer to work within my abilities, that being fighting and magic. I live off the family fortune and do whatever odd jobs get sent my way from whomever. Usually typical mercenary work in foreign countries, but occasionally I’ll get things straight from the top.”

“Straight from the top? As in directly from Celestia?”

“Either her or the Ministry of Intelligence. Mostly the latter.”

“Why do you do mercenary work if you don’t need to?”

For that, he had no real answer.

“To keep myself sane, I suppose. Perhaps I have some internal moral obligation to serve the crown in any way I can,
even if I’m not officially allowed to.”

“I take it you’ve been pushed out of any involvement with the government?”

“Pushed out? No, I left for personal reasons. A year of working with Celestia was all I could take of her. After that, I mucked about in the Ministry of Intelligence for a few years before coming back home.”

“I take it you weren’t too fond of the Princess?”

“Hated her. Hated her policies, hated the way she acted, hated the way she looked.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation. She didn’t show it, but Twilight was slightly repulsed by the stallion,
mostly because he didn’t share her opinions on the Princess.

Wood Wey picked up again. “What about you? Why are you here? The message didn’t give me much information on you.”

“Well, I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student.”

He winced as he realized his words had probably offended her, albeit unintentionally.

“And I’d prefer it if you kept disparaging remarks about her to yourself. Not everyone shares your grievances, whatever they may be.”

“Fair enough.”

Twilight cleared her throat. “I don’t want to start this off on the wrong hoof, so let’s just pretend that exchange didn’t happen, okay?”

He nodded in response. “If you’re her student, that must mean you’re pretty handy with magic.”

She blushed. “Well, about that... I’m not actually a fighter in any way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only know the rudimentary basics of some of the more illicit arcane arts. Until about a few days ago, I had no idea telepathy even existed. Trixie has taken to teaching me about barriers, safeguards and mass telepathy.”

The stallion sighed and planted a hoof in his face. “And she expects you to go into the middle of a war zone and kill?”

Abashedly, she replied. “Uh... yes?”

He added that to his mental list of things that annoyed him about the Princess. “Remind me in the morning to grab you a book from my archives. It has pretty much every single spell ever devised since before the numerous bans instated during Celestia’s rule. Advanced teleportation, energy redirection, offensive conjuring, illusions, and hexes amongst others. You’ll need to read up if you want to be helpful.”

He stood up. “Now, if I may, I shall take my leave. We can talk more tomorrow if you wish.”

She didn’t say anything as he resolutely strode out of the room, eager to separate himself from the growing tension. Back in the hallway, he turned to another door. The last one. Trixie’s.

He didn’t want to knock. The conversations back in the conference room had brought back his memories of the blue mare. His hoof hovered in the air in front of the door as he debated internally.

Are you going to stand there like an ass, or are you going to come in?

The telepathic invasion took him by surprise, but he didn’t show it externally. He pushed his way into the room as he scrambled to create a new safeguard before Trixie could pry into any private thoughts. The fact that she had broken the first one without him noticing was incredibly perturbing.

Trixie was sprawled out on her bed, no longer in her black skin suit. Wood Wey stood awkwardly in the corner, averting his gaze away from the mare who was in a rather evocative pose. Noticing his apprehension, she adjusted to look a bit more approachable.

“I don’t need anything, before you ask.” she started.

“Why did you let me in, then?”

“I overheard your conversation with Twilight.”

Sheepishly, he dared a glance directly at her. “Figures. Well, what of it?”

“My presence has nothing to do with you. It seemed best to set your mind at ease.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about you being here.”

She chuckled. “I wouldn’t want you t. I love watching you squirm.”

He wheeled about and made for the exit. “Fuck you, Trixie.”