//------------------------------//
// Sadly the Truth 
// Story: Equestria's Ray of Hope 
// by The_Darker_Fonts 
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The night was a very long one for Ray.  He was a side sleeper by nature, but seeing as how his shoulder was still aching from the cut, he wasn’t able to rest well.  At Zecora’s hut, the bed had been small and right next to a wall, and he hadn’t even really been consciously making the choice to sleep.  However, his bed had been explicitly designed for his own comfort as a larger person in this world, which meant that he could easily roll onto his hurt shoulder and wake up with a curse at the stinging pain.  Which is what he did several times.
He finally gave up sleeping on the bed and trudged down the stairs, sitting himself on the sofa with a blanket and falling asleep there, Otolo decisively nesting on his lap.  That was where he woke up in the morning as well, though at some point in the night he’d slumped over to the side, and had fallen on his left shoulder.  At first he was confused by why he was seeing everything sideways, but after a moment he came to his senses and realized what had happened.  Otolo was still nestled on his lap, though because of the awkward sideways angle, she was halfway tipped over.  
After mentally congratulating himself on being smart enough to sleep on the far right of the couch, and not in the center or left, he sat up.  He’d gone to bed without putting a shirt on, and while it was still barely warm enough at night to get away with the action, he felt the chill of oncoming fall on his bare skin.  Shivering slightly, he slowly sat up, much to the chagrin of Otolo, who chittered annoyedly at him with a sleepy glare.  
He simply picked her up and set her on the arm of the sofa, telling her, “If you want to sleep more, by all means, be my guest.  I gotta go.  I’m pretty sure that telling Skalos the reason I’m late for training today was because I was serving as my bird friend’s pillow won’t fly over him well.”  After realizing what he’d said, he slapped a hand over his face and told her, “That was unintended.”
There was a small chirp in response to his comment, but already the little bird was hunkering into herself and against the back of the sofa to catch some more sleep.  Ray rolled his eyes, getting off of the couch and heading into the kitchen to grab something to eat.  He saw that it was about twenty minutes before when he was actually supposed to wake up, but he felt more energized after having been down, even for only two days.  It was a shame that Skalos was more than likely going to keep him from doing anything too physical today, despite him feeling almost completely healed.  
He cooked himself some eggs for breakfast and got a glass of milk to wash it down.  However, after the initial meal, he still felt rather hungry, and grabbed a bowl of cereal to add to it.  He recognized quickly that he was probably going through a growth spurt, but it was also entirely possible that he was extra hungry from skipping dinner last night.  He had been too emotionally tired to bother keeping himself up, and simply wandered around his house while wondering what had actually happened.  Then, too puzzled and too worn out to care about eating, he’d gone to bed.
Which reminded him that he hadn’t showered in three days now.  He winced at the thought of how bad he had to smell, and didn’t even bother with a pit sniff as he walked up the stairs and grabbed a towel.  With a quick glance at the clock to measure about how much time he could spend leisurely in the shower.  Hopping in, he spent a good amount of his time scrubbing out any remaining crusty bits of dried blood from it, as well as some drippage that hadn’t quite been taken care of from below the belt.  He spent the rest of his time trying to relax his muscles under the hot massage of the cascading water, keeping his thoughts on trivial things to prevent too much of a self-pity party.  
Completing his shower, he finally got out a fresh pair of clothes and a new shirt that hopefully wouldn’t meet the same fate as the last one.  This one was made of some sort of thick material, perhaps wool, and felt warm against the early winter season.  Thanks to the patterns of greens and reds, he was reminded of Christmas, and almost laughed at the thought.  Come to think of it, an ugly sweater gift was exactly something he needed to give Rarity for her birthday.  That reaction was sure to be something to cheer him up on a rainy day.  With a light chuckle, he finished drying his hair and left his room, a small smile remaining with him.
There was still about twenty minutes before he needed to leave, so he decided to take the time walking instead of jogging.  He left a window open in case Otolo decided she wanted to leave before exiting his house, strolling quietly past the sleeping bird and ensuring that she was indeed comfortable.  After closing the door behind him, he casually began walking the path away from his house, smiling at a passing flock of what he presumed were geese overhead.  They were leaving as the cooler months set in, and as such he briefly wondered if Otolo would eventually join them, despite her assurance that she’d be staying with him. With a cautious glance at the path, he stepped off it, allowing his eyes to follow the flock further along their journey away.
As the flock continued on, however, there was one, at the head of the group, that split off, allowing another of the flock to take its place as head of their V shaped pattern.  With a confused quirk of his head, he watched as the rogue flier dove away, and down towards the ground at incredible speed.  Soon the figure became more clear, the morning light giving way to the colorful display of colors that made up the creature's mane, the cyan body becoming clearly ponyish.  With a smile, he observed Rainbow Dash as she gave him a mighty triple loop in the air before deftly ignoring any concerns of self-preservation, folding her wings and letting herself fall deftly to the ground.  
She landed almost perfectly besides him, already in a bowing stance, accepting her applause early.  “What was that,” Ray asked with a cheerful smile.  
“Just a little show for a very good friend,” she remarked genuinely, not a single trace of sarcasm or haughtiness in her voice.  
“Oh,” her exclaimed with a curious tone.  “And what’s the occasion exactly?”
“Well, let’s just say that I took your words to heart and went straight over to Applejack’s, and let’s just say things escalated from there,” Rainbow explained with a slight blush, though it didn’t seem too much from embarrassment.  
“Well, that much I collected from what I overheard AJ and Apple Bloom arguing over when I showed up the other day,” he commented.  “Little Apple didn’t seem to like it.”
Rainbow winced at the statement, muttering, “Yeah, I can see why.”  With a little chuckle, she told him, “I guess she does have a point though.  But, I mean, I can definitely see where AJ’s coming from.  If Scootaloo were to come home with a colt, even just in a friendly way, I know I’d be a bit over the roof with my protectiveness as well.”
“Yeah,” Ray trailed off, glancing to the ground.  Looking back up, he asked, “So, any other reason in particular you popped down to me?”
“Well, I wanted to thank you for the advice, because it led to the best few days of my life,” Rainbow elaborated.  “I wanted to thank you the day after the Runnin’, but you weren’t around after the morning, or the next day, and the next.  Where the hay were you?”
With a small sigh, he questioned, “You talked to Fluttershy yet?”
“No, not since mid-morning yesterday,” she responded.  “Poor mare’s been worried sick about you.  It was absolutely terrible, and not even a note or word of where you were going either!”  She paused her furious rant for a minute as she remembered something.  “Though, Applejack did tell me who you went along with as well…” 
“The Fallen,” Ray figured. “Yeah, that was Skalos, the guy who’s training me.”
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow murmured, almost sullenly.  “What happened?  Was it… something to do with all of those minotaurs?”
With a deep breath, he lamented, “When is it not?”  Giving her a sorry look, he apologized, “Sorry, didn’t mean to start a pity party.  Yeah, it was.  There was a faction in the Fallen, and Skalos brought me to it.  Things came to blows, and I ended up leaving there with a cut up shoulder.  I spent the last two days at Zecora’s.  Nice zebra, by the way.”
“Oh, yeah, we shoulda introduced the two of you,” Rainbow commented thoughtfully, tapping a hoof against her chin.  “The two of you are the only permanent residents in Ponyville that are from a completely different land.  It woulda been nice if the two of you had gotten to know each other before the whole tabbing incident.  By the way, do you mind if I take a look at it?  I’ve had my fair few accidents flying and whatnot, and I’d like to compare scars.”
“Well, it’s a gruesome way to showboat, but it’s nothing like the scar I have on my stomach,” Ray informed her, pulling down his shirt on his right side, making sure to not brush the still sensitive wound.  “Zecora pulled the stitches out yesterday, but you can still see where it was the worst.  Not sure if you can exactly see any of the skin underneath, but still a little torn.”
“Indeed it is,” Rainbow muttered as she stared with uncharacteristic interest at his almost healed wound.  “You said you got stabbed?  Pretty neat, if you ask me.  A war wound before you even head out to war!  What didja do to the other guy?”
“Um, nothing,” he lied, trying vainly to keep his mind off of the troubles of the killing he’d done.  Not yet.  Not when Skalos or Fluttershy weren’t around.  “Just stood strong and told him to screw off.”
Rainbow gave him a disbelieving scrunch of her face, then said, “Nah.  You’re not the type to take a punch sitting down.”  Lifting her hooves in the air, she hovered off the ground and gave a few mock jabs, declaring,  “Probably beat him up real good, like a hay pile!  Wish I coulda seen you givin’ the little idiot what he deserved!”
“Rainbow, I killed him,” Ray finally admitted, looking away.  
“Oh,” she softly said, her hooves dropping as a sorry expression fell over her face.  “Hey, I didn’t mean to make ya think of all that.  Just tried to lighten the mood.  Besides, you’re still a good kid in my books.  Don’t let it beat down on you too hard.  We all gotta do what we gotta do, and you’re one of the toughest guys out there.  I don’t speak from any experience, but I’m pretty sure that’s warranted, so if ya feel guilty, just tell Flutters.  She’s my best friend, and she’ll be able to help ya out real good.”
After a moment of consideration, Ray looked up and gave Rainbow a smile.  “You know what, I think I’ll take your word for it,” he told her with a slightly sad tone.  “I gotta go, though.  See you around.”
“Alright, see ya Ray,” Rainbow waved goodbye.  “Should take care of the geese anyways.  Stupid bird’s’ll fly themselves straight into the right side of a mountain if somepony ain’t leadin’ them, anyways.”
Ray chuckled as the pegasus left, shaking his head as he left her and continued on his stroll down the path.  By now he realized that there wasn’t time to walk, or even go through the town, so instead he began to run down the direction that Skalos had shown him, through the hills and to the outskirts of the Everfree.  He almost made a relieved laugh as he entered the dense forest, feeling the strange half cold of the early autumn morning brush off to the wet warmth within the swamp.  The entire forest only seemed to have grown greener since the Running of the Leaves, something he hadn’t the time or care to notice before.  
Jogging quickly through the forest, he followed the path faithfully, still attempting to memorize it by heart and not by sight.  Something Skalos hadn’t mentioned yet, but he sure would come up eventually, was to learn the geography of the terrain around him, especially in foreign lands.  He wasn’t sure exactly what was waiting for him on the other continent, and neither did anyone else.  Funny how the only time they had even knowledge on what was going to happen was when it disadvantaged him.  With a short, mirthless laugh, he emerged from the deep cover of the forest, right in front of the Acres.  
For a singular moment, he considered going right through to the homestead and letting everyone know he was alright, but he quickly realized he still had no explanation for what had happened to him in front of Mac and Sugar Belle.  With a sigh, he knew he would have to disappoint the Apple family once again and force them to wait several more hours before they knew his conditions.  He winced at the thought, realizing once again the mistake of attaching himself to another family, especially considering what was to come to pass in the next year.  If he couldn’t even go a month in this land unscathed, what chance did he have at returning when the war became a real factor in his everyday life? 
Not thoughts for right now, he commanded himself, deciding to skip over the Acres entirely and wrapping around the perimeter to enter the hills behind them.  This part of the Everfree, that practically brushed branches with the Apple’s farm, was almost cleaner, like a touch of the neatness the orchards had was stained into the trees and vines of the Everfree trees.  It was a nice thought, but more likely, these trees had been part of the Acres long ago, and instead of the tameness passing into the Everfree, the Everfree passed into the tameness.  In fact, comparing the orchard more towards the farmhouse, it did indeed look like these apple trees at the border between the two were more wild and overgrown than the others closer to home. 
Ray noted all of this with a sort of serene ominocity, not quite sure what this bode for the Acres or for the Everfree.  With a final harrumph of acknowledgement, he continued out from between the trees and to the slope of the first hill, that led down to the lakeside.  Though he’d noted the hills on this side of Ponyville before were more sharp and common than the gentle slopes that surrounded his house, they were much more distinguishable, with some even having a sheer stone face on one side with only and uneven, steep incline upwards to them otherwise.  It was strange to think that even though these hills weren’t part of the Everfree, they characterized it so well that, at another time, the forest and hills would have created one of the best naturally chaotic and dangerous landscapes.
Boy Discord would love that, he thought to himself as he slid down the hill, towards the lakeside.  This part of the bank was at a curvature in the oval body of water, about two or three hundred feet from where he and Skalos usually met.  He noted that, indeed, the Fallen was a ways down the bank, staring at him, as if somehow knowing exactly the direction from where he would come.  Ray waved a greeting at him from the distance and began running towards the Fallen.
Once he was within earshot of the Fallen, he heard Skalos yell, “Almost late, lordling!  Another minute and you’d be doing much worse things than I had planned for today!”
“Had,” Ray asked as he closed the remaining distance, breathing heavily.  “Plans changed anyways?”
“Indeed, they have,” Skalos informed him.  “After what occurred in the home of us Fallen, I was considering following the healing process with more strategic training, but after your confessional to Zecora, I realized that in order to be general, you would have to accept that you indeed were going to kill, whether it be former allies or age old enemies, it doesn’t matter.  So, as such, this next week or so will be conditioning for killing, and perhaps even some survivalism trips to the northern mountains.  You humans eat meat, right?  Perhaps you can learn to hunt while you’re up there.”
Ray stood with his mouth half open in surprise and shock at how nonchalantly Skalos was explaining what they would do, the preparations, and even prospect of killing.  He snapped his jaw shut as Skalos’ gaze earned a slightly demanding, but mostly requiring sharpness to it.  With a scowl, he half shouted, “Is that going to be a problem, lordling.”
For a moment, Ray was silent, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, but only for a moment did it last before he turned off his heart and responded, “No sir.”
Skalos gave him a searching, almost appraising look before he turned away, calling behind him, “You don’t call me sir, lordling.  I am beneath you in both rank and person, so any respect you have in me may be signified through continuing to follow my instructions.  Remember, you have no obligations to follow me or my orders, it is your choice.  What isn’t your choice, however, is what the future holds.  Remember that.  Kill or be killed.  Kill to survive.  Survive to live.  That is your creed.”
Ray nodded sharply, his jaw closed tightly.  He would not let any part of his doubts, his feelings, or his halfhearted attempts at normality interfere now.  This was where he needed to excel, and if that meant cutting every other part of him out in order to perfect the side that needed to be lethal and calculating, so be it.  
“Now, today I want you to be using a pole as a mock spear.  In the future, you should bring it daily, if not for use, then for practice in walking around with it.  More accurately running with it in hand, as that is the optimal way for you to travel.”  Skalos paused in the doorway of his hut, grunting as he began pulling out one of the dummies.  Ray rushed over, practically picking up the heavy, straw filled figure, and letting Skalos guide him to where it needed to be put.  Letting go of the strap at the bottom he’d been using to drag the dummy, Skalos instructed, “There’s a pole about as tall as you right inside the door, halfway behind the other dummies.  You’ll be using that today.”
Nodding, he ran into the house, ducking under the low doorway and staying crouched as he searched for the specific pole.  He found several only as tall as Skalos, or some as tall as his legs, until he discovered the one he was supposed to use buried underneath the other poles.  He had some trouble pulling it out from its hiding place, the long stick too big to be lifted normally thanks to the low ceiling and its height.  When he finally managed to finish retrieving it from the hut, however, Skalos was standing patiently by the dummy, staring at the lake thoughtfully.  
Ray let him be for a moment, stepping up beside him before asking, “So, what is it exactly I’m supposed to be doing today?  Some sort of jabbing routine again, or something else?  My shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore, but I still don’t think it’d be all too wise to reopen it.”
“Of course,” Skalos agreed, turning and facing him.  “Unfortunately, there will come a time when you aren’t in your best condition to fight, and either to survive or to protect, you will have to anyways.  Today’s conditioning will be teaching you how to fight while wounded and still go without worsening it.  Good luck.”
The Fallen turned back to the waters, to which Ray hesitantly asked, “Wait, is that it?” 
“Well, it depends on how you do,” Skalos vaguely answered.  After a moment of waiting for instruction, the stallion told Ray, “Well, no use in waiting.  Get started!”
Wordlessly, Ray turned to the dummy, planting one foot forward and another back, settling into one of the stances Skalos had taught him.  From there, he bent ever so slightly, weighing out the smooth wood weapon in his hand before finding its balance.  This staff didn’t have a specific counterweight on the back or front of it to replicate the spear exactly, but he was able to tell which side was supposed to replicate the spearhead thanks to a little symbol scorched into the wood.  Taking a deep breath, he stabbed the spear forward, keeping his balance as he absorbed the push of the dummy back into his makeshift spear.  
He slowly began stabbing the different parts of the dummy, practicing the angles for face-to-face combative striking.  This was one of the more intense things he’d been taught yet, a sequence of lethal strikes that slowly sped up until you were hitting seven different points in under two seconds from the jabbing.  Because he had usually used his spear, there weren't any dummies to practice on, and the strikes usually flowed without stop.  Now that there was a counterforce to his strikes, he had to ensure that his strikes and grip were exactly as practiced so he didn’t receive a jammed wrist or major blistering.  Thankfully, he had been doing exactly as Skalos had instructed with his grips and strikes the entire time, and his muscle memory allowed him to be precise in the action.
As he sped up his form, he began noticing that with every strike, the indentions left by his spear on the cloth and hay figure were remaining, and after several dozen reps of the form, they were deepening.  Each strike landed more firmly against the dummy, staying and not bouncing away.  With a grunt, he sped up the form even more, striking each point at least ten times a minute.  Head, chest, left breast, right breast, lower lungs on the left, lower lungs on the right, and center stomach.  Seven points that would prove lethal, whether instantaneously or after a few minutes, it usually wouldn’t matter.  Being hit in those places, or stabbed, more accurately, would cause any living organism to begin to flee, or try to protect the wound instead of continuing to fight.  The strikes disabled and killed quickly, allowing for him to move on to another enemy, over and over again.  
As he continued to let the strikes flow rapidly, his thoughts began to drift uncontrollably.  These were the places that he was going to hit an actual, living, breathing, thinking enemy, where he would strike intentionally to end their life.  These places hurt when hit, let alone stabbed.  Would he really stab a minotaur in the stomach and walk away, letting it slowly, painfully die without a second thought as he moved on to kill another?  Yes, he would.  And he’d repeat the process over and over, until either there weren’t any more to kill, or he’d been killed.  
His pace increased, his strikes becoming more and more viscous and powerful, the soft thudding of the wood against the hay and straw pulsing in his ears quicker than his own heartbeat.  Each strike meant a kill, another minotaur he would slay out in a new foreign land, a foreign land in foreign lands.  So it would be.  So it was.  With every forehead strike, he saw the spear he’d taken from Cohin’s own hooves piercing his skull, the feeling of bone breaking from the force of his strike.
“Kill or be killed,” Ray murmured to himself, panting in between words.  “Kill to survive.  Survive to live.  Protect through killing.  Kill to survive, Survive to live.  Give others life through death.”  
He continued to mutter the chant over and over as his pace began to slow, each strike becoming almost brutal with the amount of force he was putting into the staff.  He huffed with the final strike of every form, sweat slowly building and dripping down his arms and across his hand.  The wooden staff sunk deeply into the face, stuffing bursting out of the sides from the pressure of the hit.  Panting, he glared at the dummy’s sunken face, before committing to a last series of strikes.
“Kill or be killed,” he huffed, striking the chest.  “Kill to survive.”  The sides collapsed, slumping forward and covering the stomach.  “Survive to live.” The stomach was shoved in brutally regardless.  “Live to kill.”  The staff was driven completely through the face of the dummy, straw and dust flying through the air, the golden strands the red hue of blood.