It took a week before Mouse could finally get a good night’s sleep. Over the course of that week, the stallion had found himself being...apprenticed? Was that the right word for this?

“Pay attention, Ghost,” the earth pony named Demon told him, before he brought the flat of his blade against Mouse’s flank. The steel snapped into him like a whip, and Mouse had to bite back tears as his muscles screamed.

Tortured might also be an applicable word.

“Keep moving your hooves,” Demon ordered. “If you stand still, you’ll wind up dead.”

He began moving his hooves, dancing around the target dummies as he was forced into another full day of combat training. His knives spun and sliced at the dummy, and Moused danced for Demon, who watched with a drawn sword.

One of the blades made a superficial cut, and Demon responded with another slap to Mouse’s flanks. “Strike to kill, not distract.”

Mouse felt a whimper that he could not stop building in his throat. He tried, tried desperately to keep it silent, but finally, could only manage to mask it behind a question. “Why are we doing this?”

“You’re a killer now,” Demon answered, “but you’re unrefined. You’re a club, and while serviceable, the Void asks for more.”

The Void. Mouse had heard enough of those two words in the past week to last a lifetime. The Void was some strange amalgamation of a god, a force of nature, and the afterlife. The Void was everything to this strange little family, and especially so to Demon. In the short time he had know him, Demon had made it perfectly clear that he was a devout, and zealous worshiper of the Void.

The shrine that he kept in his bedroom was an excellent testament to the fact.

“And what does the Void ask for?” Mouse asked.

“That you be something beyond mortal,” Demon answered simply. “You must be able take lives as simply as breathing. If you enter a room, you must be able to slay everyone as if you were the Void himself. You are his representative and his avatar, and so you must be like him.”

Mouse drove a knife into the training dummy, digging in hard. Unfortunately, every ounce of his strength had to eviscerate the wooden figure, only for Demon to slap him again. “A death is not worth the risk of standing still. Always keep moving.”

Mouse seethed, now sure that his flank was glowing red through his fur. Grinding his teeth together, he attacked again, trying to make the same deep attack while moving at the same time. The blow was not as deep this time, but at least Demon didn’t slap him again. “It will take several years to get you into proper shape, but at the very least you have promise.”

Another quick, series of attacks, and Mouse slowed to a stop. “I can’t go much longer.”

Demon sighed. “Luckily for you, I believe you should perfect your stance before your endurance is tested.”

“Good thing, too,” Phantom, the pegasus Mouse first met when he was introduced, said, stepping into the room. “Oracle just told me that Ghost here is going to get his first official job, and we need to start preparing him.”

Demon nodded. “Good. Then you can bring glory to the Void,” he said, turning to Mouse and sheathing one of his many swords.

“Take a nap, Ghost,” Phantom ordered. “Once you’re refreshed, we’ll start briefing you.”

Mouse sighed, but happily began to head back to his room. Some sleep sounded amazing right now, especially after being beaten by Demon all day. As he sheathed the crescent knives, and walked out of the room, only to meet the glaring eyes of the unicorn, Wraith. “What are you doing?” she asked, growling.

Mouse, just on the border of being too tired and too beat up to care, moved to the side. “Going to bed.”

Wraith glared at him, staring at him from behind a shock of cream-colored hair, and shook her head. “Sure you are.”

Mouse sighed and walked past, while Wraith continued to glare. He’d care more later, but now he was going to sleep.

He finally made it to his room, an almost opulent room with a goose-feather bed, rich linen sheet dyed a dark crimson, and enough tapestries of the strange, black, serpentine figure that represented the Void, to keep the stone room warm during the winter.

He quickly dropped onto his mattress and rolled into the sheets, pulling them close before he quickly drifted off to sleep.

“Your target is Golden Spear,” Oracle explained. “The Canterlot Captain of the Guard has made his last arrest.”

Mouse listened, happy that, at the very least, it was another guard that he had to kill.

Oracle sat on the other side of a large table, with the Tome sitting closed between them. “Your job for this mission is simple. You are to kill the Captain of the Guard, by any means you see fit, remain undetected, and place this envelope on the Captain's desk,” Oracle said, before sliding the envelope across the table towards Mouse.

Mouse picked it up. “What’s in here?”

“A few documents that will incriminate the Captain when an investigation is launched. With any luck, it’ll bring Commander Hurricane down on the whole department. When that happens the Captain’s successor, someone who takes her job very seriously, won’t be taking the desk, and we’ll be more free to move to complete our goals.”

“We have goals beyond killing people?” Mouse asked.

Oracle smiled. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

Mouse gave the pale pony a glance before he set the envelope back down. “So when do I leave?”

“Not yet,” Oracle told him. “There is yet more for you to learn.”

Mouse sighed.

Of course.

“The Captain of the guard lives in Canterlot castle, and frequently works with the Princess, Chancellor, and the Commander to keep the city alive. Unfortunately, we do not know where in the castle he lives, that is a part of your job.”

“Okay, so...I’m going to have to track him down?”

“From the throne room,” Oracle agreed.

“The throne room?” Mouse asked. “You’re telling me to go to the throne room, where Princess Platinum is?”

Oracle nodded. “Yes, exactly that.”

Mouse wasn’t sure an assassin sneaking into the throne room of a pony that had an attempt on her life a few months ago was a good idea.

“You’ll be safe as long as you stick to the rafters,” Oracle said.

“The rafters?”

Oracle tapped the Tome. “I have read it. You get to the rafters, and you will be safe.”

Mouse sighed, and shook his head, before suddenly stopping. “Wait. You know I’m safe in the rafters, but not where the Captain’s room is?”

Oracle grabbed the tome and slid it towards him, cradling the book in his hooves. “Reading the tome is not so easy, Ghost.”

Mouse did his best to suppress a groan. “So when do I leave?”

“As soon as you can,” the pale pony said.

“And what provisions am I taking?”

“None.”

Mouse looked at him. “‘None?’ I’m taking nothing?”

“Nothing but your own blades,” Oracle confirmed.

“The trip to Canterlot could take a week!” Mouse said. “What am I supposed to eat?”

Oracle simply smiled, stood, and motioned for Mouse to follow.

Getting up from his seat, and with the ever-present reminder that he was surrounded by very powerful assassins, Mouse didn't complain as he followed Oracle down another hallway that he hadn't had the chance to explore yet. The hallway, still decorated with the black and red tapestries that seemed to be everywhere, was marked by a strange almost mosaic-like set of flagstones that depicted long, black rectangles that ran the length of the hall.

When they finally made it to the room, Mouse wasn't sure what he was looking at, but he knew it was awe-inspiring.

Thirteen void-black monoliths stood against the wall, spread equally around the room. By each massive rectangle, hung a black key on a leather thong, each with a different set of teeth which matched a small, black mosaic at the foot of every column of shadow.

“These are Shadowgates,” Oracle explained. “These are...well, our employer gave them to us for the express purpose of moving across the country as quickly as possible. Each one is linked to one of thirteen small, magical gems across Equestria. You walk through, and you pass the threads of the world to someplace new in the tapestry of reality. There, the gem is the keyhole to the door back, and the shadows take you in open arms…”

He was beginning to ramble, and it was making Mouse slightly nervous. Still, he understood what was going on. The Shadowgates were a teleportation structure that would take him to Canterlot and the key, when used with the magical gem, would let him come back.

“Which one leads to Canterlot?” He asked, hoping for a lucid answer.

“The three crowns rule the tower. Three crowns to two, then one. Always wings, horn, and hooves, so it will always be,” he said, before pointing at the Shadowgate marked with three peaks that looked like crowns.

Good enough.

“I’ll get a cloak, talk to the others and I’ll head out,” he told the earth pony.

“Sun and Moon come down to rule. The clouds, plains and mountains bow in answer.”

“Whatever you say, Oracle,” Mouse replied.

“The Nail will save us…”

When Mouse stepped through the Shadowgate, he was expecting the screams of the damned or the starving roar of demons. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to find the trip to be nearly silent. He heard nothing until he stepped out of the darkness, and into an alleyway in Canterlot, filled with the noises of brothels being enjoyed, and louts slowly becoming drunk as the evening passed into night.

The sun was down, and the chilly air quickly sapped the warmth from Mouse's body. He drew his cloak tight around himself, and checked the wall behind him. A small, black stone, an onyx, it seemed, sat buried in the wall, waiting for the key to open the Shadowgate again.

Taking the key, from his neck, he dropped it into his magical bag, and watched as the onyx disappeared completely.

“Huh,” he muttered to himself. “Just like Spectre said…”

He refocused, looking up the wall of the building next to him. He needed to get his bearings, and getting up on the roof would help him with that. With a careful look around, and all the experience he had from his time running with Cut Purse and his thieves, he quickly found his path up, and leapt from wall to wall, to support jetty, up and up and onto the edge of the thatch roof of the brothel he had appeared beside.

His eyes scanned the buildings around him, while he ignored the sounds of the pair enjoying themselves below the heavy thatch beneath him. It took a few moment, but finally he found the castle. A large keep with tall walls and great towers sitting at the foot of the mountain stood before him, and Mouse quickly tried to find his way in.

With the night getting on, the gates were closed. The walls were tall, and sheer, and he would need to be a pegasus in order to get over them. Braziers glowed softly from the top of the towers and the walls, illuminating it, and keeping it bright enough to see a cloaked pony.

It was not going to be easy getting in. Definitely not, and once he was in, there was no way he’d be able to hide on the walls. He’d have to be quick, and make sure that the guards weren’t looking at him when he finally climbed over.

The question remained, though. How was he going to climb the walls? There were no buildings nearby, nothing he could climb, and he had no rope. There was no way he was making it up the wall by himself. He needed a way in.

Phantom had briefly talked about Postern gates, and a single door would be much easier to get through. The only issue was the very long, no doubt guarded, corridor with no cover for him to hide in. If he went in as he was, he’d be found, and have nowhere to run as they unleashed a volley of arrows. He’d be a pincushion before he had time to cry out.

The only way he was getting through was by spending his energy on an invisibility spell, and while he could hold it for a decent amount of time, he wouldn’t be able confidently use it again without rest. He would burn his spell getting in, and wouldn’t be able to use it when he needed help.

What else could he do?

There were the prisons…

Ignoring the fact that he hated the idea of ever returning to the Canterlot jail, he could sneak through the sewer, through the labyrinth that the Princess had escaped with, and come back into the cells. The only problem was moving on from there.

The door that separated the cells from the Guard’s barracks could only be opened from inside the barracks. It had no mechanism for opening on the inside, and the only way a guard could get through was to knock on the door, and get the watchman on the other side to open it.

It would make for a decent way out, but he still hated being down there…

There was the main gate. The one that was shut tight for the night, and wasn’t opening till morning. He could open it, but that would be the equivalent of take a prisoner’s food when he was five feet away, and staring at his plate.

He’d...he’d just have to bring a grappling hook next time.

Groaning, he slid down, back to the street, and quickly made his way for the castle.

He moved, sliding from alleyway to alleyway, before he came to the massive earthen bulwark that the castle had been built on. While not as steep as the castle wall, it was still nearly impossible to climb.

The hard-packed, water-smoothed, synthetic mesa offered no hoof-holds, and would come apart with a step. He had no real way of getting up there, not that he could see. After a few minutes, he quickly decided he’d have to climb the main road up, and be in full view of the guards as he did.

Luna’s silver...why did castles have to be so hard to get into?

Looking around, Mouse tried to find a way up that wouldn’t get him discovered by the wandering eye of a guard. The thought of getting a running start came to him a couple of times, but he wasn't sure how useful it would be.

Without any other real options, Mouse backed up, took a deep breath, and fan for the packed dirt wall.

He scrambled, grabbing everything to try and move forward. Dirt and rocks sprayed out from under him, before his footing gave way, and he crashed into the soil.

He slid back down the wall, cursing Seyella with every breath.

Why the goddess of fate? Simple, she started it.

As he collected himself at the bottom of the bulwark, Mouse slowly had a different idea. Drawing his knives, he stuck one of the crescent blades into the bulwark, hoping that the magical blade wouldn’t be dulled by the dirt and rocks. The other knife he stuck even higher up the bulwark, and then ran at the earthen wall again. This time, with the knife handles acting as platforms for him to land and recover on, Mouse was able to climb the bulwark, onto the wide pony-made mesa that surrounded the castle walls.

With the aid of his magic, he retrieved his knives, and took a moment to check their edges before he moved on, towards the postern gate.

The gate, which was little more than a heavy wooden door, gave way to his lockpicking spell with relative ease. He even passed through the long, and easily defensible hallway on the other side of the gate with ease, but only because of his invisibility spell.

He didn’t like relying on the spell he could use maybe twice a day reliably. Of course, he liked the idea of walking through a hallway that could have been covered and cleared by a single fireball spell much less.

Still, at the very least he was able to ride his invisibility spell all the way to the palatial keep, where the donjon and the watch tower stood tall over the castle walls while the great hall reached out across the courtyard. Slipping inside was not terrible hard, but his invisibility was quickly pushing its boundaries, and he still had to get to the throne room.

Not to mention finding a way into the rafters.

Still, he had to move forward. Moving through the shadows, and hugging the walls, ducking down into small alcoves whenever the guards walked past.

He slowly, ever so slowly made his way forward, before finally finding the throne room doors. Of course, he couldn’t just walk in, he’d be spotted immediately, not to mention the pair of guards that were standing at attention to each side of the door.

There was no way he’d get through there, much less get to the rafters from there.

He couldn’t get there from the outside, the roof was covered in iron to keep it protected during a siege, so he’d have to find somewhere else to get up to the rafters. With little choice, Mouse began to head upstairs, hoping that Phantom knew what he was talking about when he mentioned the possibility of a balcony.

“Us pegasi love balconies,” he had explained, “they’re like miniature dive boards that we can leap off at any moment. It leaves us with a feeling of freedom. We can buzz a crowd and fly out the door at a word. Pegasi love balconies.”

Then he gave a wide smile. “And since Canterlot is the capital of this little ‘peace and harmony’ thing, you’ll almost certainly find something.”

Keeping this in mind, Mouse began to search for a way up, trying desperately to find a staircase up.

Ducking into every shadow, and hiding behind anything that could conceivably be considered cover, Mouse began to move down one of the hallways, doing everything he could to avoid the guards. Finally, he found a single staircase up and he quickly climbed the steps, causing only a creak of a board to mark his passage.

The only problem was that Mouse nearly ran straight into a guard.

As rounded the corner, he nearly ran face first into an armored flank. By some miracle of darkness, or, perhaps, a more divinely lunar source, the guard walking by did not notice the cloaked pony that nearly slammed into his legs, and continued walking in the darkness.

It took Mouse's heart a second or two to start up again, but he finally felt a beat and breathed again. He took a second to wonder why the guard wasn't carrying at least a candle to light his way down the otherwise dark alley, before he continued on his way.

Silently thanking the moonlit goddess, Mouse snuck further down, turning a corner before stopping in front of a bright shaft of warm light.

A couple of voices muttered, wafting up through the air to Mouse's attentive ears. Peeking into the arch where the light spilled into the hall, Mouse found himself staring at the great hall, from the perch of one of Phantom’s tell-tale balconies.

A pair of braziers at each side of the room lit the great all with warm, orange light. A set of thrones stood at far end, where three ponies spoke to each other.

If he stayed quiet, he could just barely hear them.

“This may be a sign, Princess,” the earth pony of the trio said. She wore a large, wide brimmed hat to cover her orange mane, and a simple brown jacket around her pale pink chest. “The people may fear a monarchy. This may be a call for a Republic.”

The pegasus stallion groaned. “Puddinghead, can you let Republic rest for a few seconds?”

“It is the most fair system,” the earth pony replied. “You can't deny that.”

“It's fair as long as you're a landowner,” the armored stallion said. “Unfortunately, we don't have many of those.”

“Well, if everypony had a vote then it would take too long to count. Letting the landowners vote for his ponies is a short cut.”

“Which leads to corruption,” the pegasus countered.

“Hurricane, please,” the mare, Princess Platinum said, wearily. “Please, let this go for tonight. I am far too tired to argue politics.”

Commander Hurricane, the pegasus at Platinum’s right, sighed. “Princess, I get that it’s hard, but you need to move on, and you need to be strong. For your ponies if nothing else.”

She shook her head. “How do you do it, Hurricane? How do you watch everyone die around you?”

He sighed, before giving her a tired smile. “I’m a soldier, ma’am.”

Mouse heard a noise behind him. The clank of metal armor as two sets of hooves began to run down the hallway through the arch.

“Captain Brass said he thought he heard something,” a guard’s voice said behind him. “We're on alert.”

Mouse's eye went wide, before he looked up to the rafters that sat just above his head. He got onto the balcony rail, using it as a stepping stone as he climbed up to the rafters. The thief held his breath as he did so, hoping that the three leaders of the country didn't notice him as they continued to whisper to each other.

“You’re standing tall before the ponies,” Puddinghead said. “They can't ask more from you.”

“No,” Platinum began. “No, Hurricane is right. I need a clear mind for the time ahead. I do not know what troubles lay ahead of us, but I must prepare.”

Mouse just managed to pull himself up, gripping onto the heavy oak beam as a guard walked onto the balcony. He was only saved by the fact that most ponies don’t look straight up as he stared down at the guard beneath him.

“What I’m truly worried about the little criminal that you two let go,” Hurricane said.

Platinum shook her head. “Clover said he would save us.”

“I know...I know she did,” Hurricane said. “I just have to wonder if it’s wise to trust this terrible fate to a criminal.”

“Hey, I did nothing. I was innocent when I met the Princess,” Mouse thought in answer, waiting for the guard below him to continue on his way.

“Who knows, that little cretin could be robbing ponies blind, or murdering ponies in their beds,” Hurricane continued.

Mouse shrugged. “Alright...you may have me on that one...but I was forced into this. It wasn’t my choice.”

“I trust Clover,” the Princess said. “I still trust her.”

The dark grey stallion sighed and nodded. “I know you do.”

The guard below him finally moved, and Mouse began to move, slowly crawling across the beams to get closer and closer to the throne. Golden Spear had to get in here eventually, and if not, then he and Oracle would have to have some words.

The founders beneath him continued to sigh and mutter, talking with each other in hushed tones before a new pony walked into the room. Wearing golden armor, the stallion walked in, and saluted. “Commander, Princess, Chancellor.”

“Still ex-chancellor,” Puddinghead replied.

“The guards have reported another increase in theft. Whoever is behind the string of break ins is back.”

The Commander sighed. “Didn’t we have one of these ponies in prison a few months ago?”

“Yes, sir, but he was only caught with some stolen pillows. There was nothing incriminating enough to lock him up for long.”

Mouse smiled at that.

Hurricane sighed.

Then Platinum spoke up, her voice as soft as ever. “Golden Spear, I believe we all have had a long day, and the hour grows late. I think it is perhaps time that we retired for the night.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Mouse began to search for a way down. He found Golden Spear, and it was his mission to follow him to his room. Unfortunately, the only thing that really reached from the ceiling to the floor were the massive curtains, and he was not confident enough to slide down.

Everyone was up and moving, including Mouse’s target, and the thief-cum-assassin needed to stay close.

The founders just left the room, and Golden Spear had just taken the second door on the right side.

He was running out of time, and had no real options. He had to do something, and he had to be quick.

He jumped, leaping off the rafter, and slammed into the wall, and the curtain hanging off of it. Grabbing onto the soft, smooth, fabric, Mouse tried to slow his descent to the floor. He grabbed the curtain with hooves and teeth, even as he felt himself slip and slide down.

A ripping sound reached Mouse's ears, followed quickly by a fast and sudden drop.

Mouse barely had the time to look up before he was swinging, the curtain transforming into a massive rope that carried Mouse back to the floor.

He landed, rolling against the flagstones as the curtain rope ladder he was using dropped him to the ground.

He didn't have time.

With this thought ringing in his head, Mouse pulled himself up and ran across the throne room, following the Captain of the Guard back to his room.

He tried to keep his breath in check as he followed his target down the corridors of the castle, and he was sure that the only thing that kept Golden from hearing him was the chunk-chunk-clack of his armor. Using that to his advantage, Mouse began to synchronize their steps, and, as always, stuck to cover.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Golden Spear opened a door, and stepped into a lone room.

Mouse quickly took stock.

From the sound of it, there was another guard patrolling nearby. The door bore a simple lock that was engaged with a heavy thunk, but that was easy enough. The door could be leading to another hallway, but the Captain locking the door made it unlikely.

This was it.

He could burst into the room right now, but Mouse didn't need to be an expert assassin to know that it was a bad idea. Instead, he had to be careful.

The patrolling guard could come down this way, And Mouse would have a lovely one-way trip back to the dungeons. If the door was simply separating hallways, then he was losing ground.

He checked the keyhole, looking through the large mechanism to see the room on the other side.

A lone candle burned on a desk, and Golden Spear was removing his armor.

Perfect, he could afford the wait, which was good, because the patrol was getting closer.

Mouse pulled back, running quickly to find some cover as he waited.

Given enough time, the captain would be unarmored and asleep. There was hardly a better target.

All he had to do in the meantime was not be noticed, and that was something Mouse was good at.

There was a soft click as the heavy lock was slowly disengaged, and a figure quickly slipped into the room. A single desk met him along with a comfortable-looking bed, where the figure of Golden Shield slept peacefully.

The figure said nothing, and hardly made a sound as he close the door behind him.

He slid up to the sleeping captain in his bed, and stared down at the Captain.

He still slept.

Mouse drew his knife, and the curved blade gleamed in the darkness.

And then the blade dropped into the Captain’s throat.

His eyes snapped open, and he glared up at Mouse as though he were an avatar of death.

“This is for the innocents,” he growled.

The captain grasped at the knife, trying desperately to breathe.

Mouse watched.

He struggled, gaping, eyes wildly darting across the room as he tried to figure out why.

Mouse said nothing.

And as he watched the guard die, another one of the heartless monsters that beat him every day of his childhood, Mouse felt nothing.