//------------------------------//
// Soul Sister 
// Story: Equestria's Ray of Hope 
// by The_Darker_Fonts 
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Ray stood atop a hill all too familiar to him, watching the intense preparations of his Fallen as they began taking down the camp for the first time in almost four months.  The sun blazed especially hot today, its waves of suppressing heat washing over him with unrelenting power, his skin feeling as if it were being cooked.  His suspicions that somehow the Tauran continent had different seasons than Equestria seemed to be proven.  The days has gotten hot enough that there were times midday that they would have to take shelter lest they be overtaken by the heat and collapse.  Already, there was rampant heatstroke and fevers, and there had been one tragic death from a soldier in the archer squad.  
The heat they had complained about aloofly was now a true threat and danger, the somber thought that one of their own, prepared to die brutally to a minotaur’s blade had been killed by the blazing sun silencing the jest.  Indeed, with the increased temperature came increased wariness from the entire camp.  Where there had once been makeshift centers of play and discussion were now giant canvases crafted from the different unit flags.  The daily activities of those off duty were no longer leisurely or playful, but rather dull and measured.  The danger of being dehydrated or having their water supply foul up had even prompted Ray to send out a party to collect as much water as they could carry from the valley they had discovered two months prior.  
It wouldn’t provide much water, but it did show the Fallen that Ray was considering their comfort as priority even as it deteriorated.  Unfortunately, it had also sparked the idea among some of the captains and lieutenants that the camp needed to be move to their only freshwater source.  They argued that it didn’t matter how terrible of a position it would be so long as the army could survive and be refreshed by the cool water there.  Otherwise, the army may be reduced terribly in strength and number.  It was a tempting thought, as Ray’s own tongue was constantly dried and his skin constantly tanned by the sun.  However, he knew that there was a better option, one he hadn’t had the time to test yet.
These past two months, ever since his second visit back in Equestria, had been building up to this day.  The army was transitioned from its defensive position in the camp to the mobile, deadly offensive force Ray had envisioned it would need to be.  For some, the transition was welcome and relieving, a taste of action in the otherwise tense, dull weeks they had suffered through.  Some even went so far as to venture that this may be the last action of the war, this sudden offensive somehow able to catch the minotaurs when they may be most vulnerable.  Ray had his doubts of course, especially with how little they still knew about the minotaurs. 
All of the corpses had been buried by the end of the second month, rotten and possibly diseased, leaving them only with the knowledge immediately provided on examination.  It was valuable of course, and even had been much more than Ray had expected to discover, but compared to what they still needed to know, it was very little.  If they wished to learn anything new from their foe, they would have to face them again.  Some of the Fallen thought that task would be easy, especially when they took into consideration the relative ease with which they established themselves on the continent.  
Of course, there are others who think much differently than that, Ray thought as he caught sight of a stallion approaching him.
Harbor was one of a small minority of voices protesting his maneuver, and given the stallion’s careful, deductive personality saw the flaws in Ray’s move.  Many did, actually, the risks they were taking in mobilizing for an offensive on the unexplored continent.  Most didn’t voice these thoughts and often considered the potential the offensive may give them as more valuable than the safety in remaining on the defensive.  The general that approached him was one of the few that actually voiced his concerns and the only general that opposed the offensive.
“General Harbor,” Ray greeted with measured warmth.  “Has your army prepared for the march effectively.”
“As ordered, lordling,” the hard stallion replied, balancing impatience with his respect.  “You know why I’m here, though, so let’s skip the formalities.”
“Very well then,” Ray nodded, turning fully to face the general but drawing himself up.  It was easy to be intimidating when one was three times taller than their associate.  “You wish to lodge one last complaint against our campaign.”
“I’m here to plead with you, my lord,” the Fallen corrected, bowing.  Ray’s brows shot up in surprise, the confidence and stoicness of the grizzled stallion removed at once.  “Please, Ray, do not send us out on this reckless campaign.  You know well how weak this move will be.  Our supplies will be thinned on the move, the soldiers will be overtaxed and labored to exhaustion.  If we do come across an army of the minotaur homeland, it may not be the simple fight of the beaches and hills of our landing.  You know I command two thousand archers, the smallest of the armies and the ones least in danger of failure.  I propose a halt to this campaign not for my troops’ sakes, but for my fellow Fallens’.  
“They think themselves more capable than they truly are, a deadly presumption that will lead to the deaths of far too many.  History has proven that those who are firmly confident in their plans will shatter as soon as a strain is placed upon their ‘perfect’ operation.  Even a small defeat will shatter the morale of the Fallen to an unrecoverable state and mean the complete collapse of our capability to mount another offensive.  If this maneuver encounters even the slightest bump, it will shatter like a glass carriage on a country road.  I urge you not to commit to this waste of energy, potential, and most importantly, life.”
Ray allowed there to be a long pause of silence as he considered the stallion’s words honestly.  He knew the dangers well that Harbor voiced.  In fact, the potential for failure and a massacre of his troops had kept him up at night, even with the help of the sleeping powders.  There were massive implications to the collapse of the Fallen.  If they lost this battle, if their lines broke or their losses mounted, if the Fallen lost their nerve… 
It would all be over, for everyone.  
Shattered morale would mean a force that would barely be able to stand on its own, easily destroyed or forced to surrender.  Knowing what they did about the minotaurs from Twilight’s visions and their own research, though, it was doubtful they would take prisoners.  Once the Fallen and Ray were dead, they would return to attacking Equestria, and the peaceful, innocent lifestyle there would be tarnished forever.  That was what was at stake here.  The entire future of Equestria.  Was it worth this gambit?
“I understand your fears,” Ray began, allowing himself to relax slightly.  “I have them as well.  But I’m afraid that if we do not take this risk, we will force ourselves into a long, unsustainable war of attrition.  We do not have the soldiers, resources, and morale to fail, as you have pointed out.  Therefore, I propose that we do give our full effort into a devastating attack, to ensure that this plan can and will not fail no matter the circumstances.  Can I trust that you will give all of your effort into making sure this attack works for us?  In spite of your doubts and legitimate concerns, will I still have one hundred percent of your capabilities put into this?”
“Of course, lordling,” Harbor replied sharply, snapping into attention.  “You have nothing to worry about from me.  I’ll have my troops prepared to move out by dusk.”
“Excellent,” Ray nodded.  “And thank you for your compliance and trust.”
“I will not doubt you, lordling,” the stallion confirmed.  “I simply wished to voice my concerns.  You know better than anyone else how to run this war.  I’ll be leaving now.”
Ray nodded once again, watching silently as the general began to descend downhill.  Slowly, he let out a breath.  He had expected the general would accept his explanation, though he hadn’t thought the stallion would go so willingly with the plan.  Perhaps it was Ray’s portrayed confidence that had given him comfort, or perhaps it was the simple fact that there was no point in arguing further.  Either way, he thanked his luck for allowing the day to progress without a drawn-out argument like the one that had gotten Ray’s plan approved.  He still cringed slightly at thinking how heated the argument had become over the four days they reviewed and debated going on the offensive.  By the second day, they had moved the tent away from the main camp so the soldiers wouldn’t hear their generals yelling at each other.
Regardless of the strife it had caused, he was able to eventually gain Skalos and Yarem’s support in the move.  Kraven and Pelios had been supporters of the move from the start, adding their own perspectives and arguments to tip a hesitant Yarem and stalwart Skalos.  Ray suspected Skalos had opposed it mostly out of fear that it was simply an impatient attempt to stave off boredom.  Ray himself had been careful to ensure this move was the best he could think of, even above simply holding out their position.  The dangers of moving definitely outnumbered the dangers of remaining still, but the dangers of keeping immobile were much more potentially lethal.  Either way, the course of fate had branched into two different paths, each with their own perils.  Ray had to hope the road he was leading them down had the most manageable bumps.
The ground rumbled distantly, and turning over his shoulder, he found the Matriarch slowly making her way towards the Fallen camp.  Noting it, he quickly moved to take care of a group of lieutenants from Kraven’s division awaiting instruction.  They were essentially the last major part of the plan to mobilize the army and have them marching out at dawn.  While they had established a nice defensive line using the surrounding hills fortified with the ballistas from the ships, there was now the matter of moving those with the army.  Yarem had pushed relentlessly to simply leave them and other large pieces of equipment behind or burn them, if necessary.  Kraven was sure that the vital artillery pieces could be moved with the army, and thus his corps was given the task of bringing up the rear and moving the equipment with them.
“Alright, in as few words as possible, what's the plan,” Ray asked, staring directly at Commander Rade.
“Well, sir, our tests have found that teams of eight Fallen can drag a ballista as at the same walking speed of an unladen soldier,” the commander explained quickly.  “With two hundred and twelve ballistas recovered from the fleet, that means we’ll need about half of the division to pull the ballistas.  We’ll rotate every hour to not wear down the soldiers too badly, and if we only march eight hours a day, we can expect to maintain peak performance in our soldiers.”
“We’ll have to pause the marching in order for those transitions to occur, correct,” Ray questioned, rubbing his chin with a hand.  
“Not necessarily,” another lieutenant stepped in.  “Our soldiers have already been training on harness transition and marching with the ballistas to a point where eight-soldier crews can transition out and be moving in thirty seconds.  We’re hoping to develop a way to transition crews while remaining mobile.  However, without that method, the ballistas will still be capable of keeping up with the army without slowing it down.”
“And if we need to move swifter than a march,” he inquired further, glancing out over the hill once again.  The Matriarch was closing in quickly, though due to her massive size more than a hurried pace.  
“Well, we figure if the movement was incredibly urgent, we would leave the ballistas in order to form the waves rather than put other infantry at risk,” Rade informed, picking up from the other lieutenant.  “The archers would be the ones manning the ballistas anyways, thus making it useless for us to be the ones to position them and delay the formation.  Talking with Harbor, we’ve established that he and Yarem would split the ballistas, which only require a maximum of four soldiers.  This still leaves eighty percent of all archers for volleys and engagement.”
“It also works out much better administratively for an infantry division to move and manage the ballistas instead of having two archer divisions deal with them,” a different lieutenant jumped in.  “This way, we have the resources to move them and the archers the positioning to use them.”
“Understood,” Ray nodded, glancing at each of the five Fallen.  Seeing no signs of doubt in any of them, he accepted the information with a slim smile.  “I trust in your capabilities.  You officially have permission to carry out the transportation of ballistas as described to me.  Carry on, soldiers.”
“Yes, sir,” the five responded in perfect unison before quickly trotting off.  
With the issue of the ballistas dealt with, Ray let out a small sigh of relief.  The logistics of mobilization had somehow taken up every waking moment of Ray’s time from the moment he gave the order to mobilize.  His initial plan had of course attempted to address every issue, but putting a plan into action often revealed its many flaws.  He and the other generals had forgotten many of the finer details of moving the army out, which led to on-the-fly responses to arising problems.  Thankfully, they had proven effective at coming up with solutions such as this one, Kraven’s genius naturally leading to surprising and strange solutions.  
Just one more stallion was waiting to talk to him, having just crested the hill and beginning to descend.  While he didn’t know the soldier by name, he knew who he represented and thus urgently made his way to the messenger.  The Matriarch loomed nearby, the dull thuds of her steps much louder now.  He maybe had two minutes to deal with this issue before whatever the Matriarch needed him for.
“Private Meer, reporting sir,” the soldier exclaimed, snapping to attention on Ray’s approach.  
“At ease, and quickly with it, if you can,” Ray ordered.  
“Of course, sir,” he replied, remaining at attention.  “Of the three hundred individuals considered for scouting duty on the forward column of Skalos’ first wave, a dozen individuals have been selected.  Private Token was promoted to captain of the messenger and scout corps by General Skalos.  If you want the details of the scouting units, you can get them from him.”
“Thank you, soldier,” Ray nodded.  “Inform Captain Token that I’ll want a debriefing immediately after I return from Equestria tonight.  You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” the messenger snapped before scrambling off.  Letting out a sigh, he turned to find the Matriarch’s shadow falling over him, a respite from the intense blaze of the sun.  
“Good to see you, my friend,” he smiled up at the giant spider, wiping sweat from him brow.  “What brings you back to our camp so early?”
“A thought and goodwill,” the World Weaver answered with the closest thing to a smile the spider could manage.  Thanks to her arachnid face being rather expressionless, there were only the smallest shifts in it that made known her emotions.  Twitches of certain hairs, a change in the glint in her eyes, the angle at which she looked at someone.  Minute details, but still telling enough for how well he’d come to know her.  
“I wish to make known that the integration of spiderlings into the Fallen waves is most successful,” the Matriarch stated happily.  “My children quite thoroughly enjoy being among mortals like the Fallen.  The small ones, while infantile in mentality, observe being able to ride the Fallen into battle as an effective way to save calories and reach prey.  The older ones like to be considered now as intelligent beings among the Fallen.  There’s something to say about a developing pride in my younger children.  I think interaction with mortals that have lived as long as them or longer engages their minds earlier and advances their awareness.  While a theory, I truly appreciate the value in this war has on my children who may survive.”
“I’m glad to hear, and I guarantee you that your children and my Fallen will survive this war,” Ray said with confidence.  Pausing momentarily, he asked, “Do you approve of this move, attacking the enemy instead of waiting for an attack?”
“It’s truly the largest risk we have taken in this engagement, certainly a taxing endeavor on the patience and morale of every soldier,” the Matriarch began, stooping down.  “I would say, however, that with the sight of my eyes and my many thousands of years, there has never been a choice more potentially positive than the one you are currently making.  Indeed, you and your soldiers, generals and spears, bows and messengers alike, all worry about what occurs if you fail on this venture.  I would like you to, for a moment, at least, consider every advantage you would be granted if you win beyond predicted.  Indeed, I see that this maneuver could ultimately mean an expansion of the peace in Equestria in both time and geography.”
“You mean ponies would begin to move here,” he asked, sweeping an arm around at the desolate landscape.  “A bit positive for you to think that there would be a single living creature who would want to move to… this.”
“Hm, yes, true,” the Matriarch considered thoughtfully, a feeler raised to brush her mandibles.  “This would make a rather rich land for my broods to grow, however.  An ally of Equestria could grow strong here if they saw use for the open hills and plains, allowed to become of strength.”
“The land’s yours, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ray granted with a shrug.  “I can guarantee that while Twilight is on the throne, she won’t let a single pony onto this land.  I can promise I won’t let anyone on this continent until I know every single minotaur is dead.”
“I do not wish for land, but my brood children require much of it to grow their own spawn,” the Matriarch said slowly.  “I ask that you begin interacting with each of them more and more.  While they do not speak language like you and I, you may be able to come to understand them much like your bird friend in Equestria.  They are growing into young versions of what I once was, gaining a stronger comprehension of their existence beyond what instinct has dictated for a thousand years.  The broodmothers will be the ones producing the main numbers, and thus are like unto the generals of the spiderlings.”
“I see,” Ray muttered hesitantly.  He saw the Matriarch tilt her head slightly at his uncertainty and quickly added, “I’ll do my best to work with them, I promise.  It’s just that… are you directing me more towards your children because of your commitment to the Aspects or simply to strengthen the bonds between the Fallen and spiderlings?”
“Sincerely, both,” the Matriarch responded with prophetic honesty.  “My dedication is still to this war and your cause to do Equestria a service it will forever be indebted to you for, but I cannot be with you for the entirety of the journey.  I know my calling on this world goes beyond creating and taking life, and that makes me both an invaluable and inconsistent ally.  That I know, and that is a truth the Spectre has told you.  But what it is incorrect about is what I’ll do concerning this matter.  I promised to commit myself to the cause of your war, and that I shall do to my fullest capabilities even with my shortcomings.  I cannot promise that I will put you before the Aspects, though, and that is the fray in our sensitive relationship.  
“I will not, however, abandon you.  My children follow me devoutly, but their loyalty is matriarchal and childish, one trusting in their mother to put them on the path.  Part of their growing is learning how to see their own path and find what the grand plan of the Aspects outlines for them.  I must leave them in order to let them grow beyond my branching protection.  I foresee a day when I must leave the Tauran plain for my eternal purpose, and on that day, my children will have a choice.  Follow their mother back and leave the Fallen and you to their fate alone or stay and continue on the fight not because their mother has straightly charged them with it, but because they believe in the integrity of their allies.
“I want to give you that chance now, Ray.  I wish for you to display to them the truthful rightness of your heart, the honest power you have vesseled within you.  You must convince them with your leadership, skill, and grace that you are indeed the cause for which the spiderlings, my children, should strive to help accomplish.  You, your generals, commanders, captains, and lieutenants are required now to continue displaying the might of the Fallen and their journey to redemption through every hardship.  You must convince them that the growth of each individual in your army will teach the broodmothers more about life and Equestria than continuing along with their mother will.  I know you can and will, which is why I give you this warning.  I do not know when the day will come that will test my childrens’ loyalties, but when it comes, if you have invited them, they will remain in your camp rather than cross the sea again.
“Know this, though.  When the day comes that I leave, I leave with great pain and incredible trust, that you will not only overcome the obstacles placed before you, but also become the very thing every great power in this world wishes to possess.  I will sincerely miss these moments, brief as they are, where I get to talk with you more plainly than I have ever spoken with anyone else in existence.  I trust you with my very life and the lives of my countless children, Ray, lordling of war.  Beyond what I have had revealed to me through the wondrous plan of the Aspects, I have come to know the instrument that may keep the balance and love of mortality intact as more than a vital piece to the mechanisms of the universe.  The Orphan of the Cosmos you may still be, but an individual as strange, strong, and beautiful as any that has ever been and will ever be you are.  
“I know of the tradition of the Fallen, of saying your farewells long before the day you must go.  Today, I wish to make my own goodbyes, for the future is uncertain and the days ahead will be stormier than the creation of the world itself.  Know that there is nothing, no one, ever like you, Ray.  I have learned more from you in these past months than in my thousands of years.  I see these tumultuous events for myself now, insightful and introspective instead of broadly blinded.  For that, I say that I have come to have a love for mortals, something my years have previously numbed me to.  I have the great emotions of mortals burning in me now, saying this.  It is strange, I’ll admit, but I must credit you for this newfound love for this world and my true desire to protect it beyond the Aspects’ plan.  I love you, Ray.  Thank you.”
Ray’s breathing was shaky as he slowly sat to the ground, still staring up at the Matriarch.  He knew what the World Weaver meant, every word of it resonating in his brain and making his heart quiver.  He hadn’t known it, but he had come to love the Matriarch too, perhaps as a wise mentor, perhaps as a familiar friend, but he knew it.  There was something about her saying it though, the wisest mortal creature to live, a survivor of the ages, that shook him.  He almost couldn’t understand why the Matriarch had said what she did, but at the same time, his very soul knew the profoundness of their mutual understanding.  
He had reconnected her to the world she had grown to only spectate, returning her to a state of mortality with the blessing of emotion.  In return, she had taught him his value, the infinite power that made him the savior and weapon of Equestria.  They were both tools of a greater purpose who had learned their circulating possibilities as both an individual, mortal being and as a powerful, righteous tool of protection.  They were twins in soul, each a piece to a plan greater than them and far beyond their knowledge, but also mortals who would and could partake of the simpler things of life.  That was the lesson they had learned by meeting each other and working together, and whether it was by some cosmic design or simply by happenstance of their interactions, it was immeasurably powerful.
Getting his emotions in check before they overwhelmed him, he breathed in deeply and stood up, looking the Matriarch in her eyes as she rested her head inches from his own.  Reaching out a hand to rest it on her head, he promised heavily, “You have my word that when all of this is over, I will find you, and together we will bring the plan of the Aspects to a close.  We will win, and we will continue on to be normal, mortal creatures.  I swear it.”
“I believe you,” the World Weaver whispered, closing her eyes.  Ray took another breath, closing his eyes as well, feeling the emotions flood him.  They took him rapidly, but they were akin to the warmth of the wayport instead of the sinking that a breaking of the dam usually meant.  There was strangeness in the action indeed, he knew it, yet he didn’t care.  For the first time in his life, he felt that he knew exactly what his purpose was, beyond surviving and protecting.  His soul sang as it found its twin, the familiarity it had never felt before at last unifying it to the land he stood on and the air he breathed.  Purpose, the amalgamation of him to the world he had come to call home now setting into his very heart that he was there, that he was here.  The undoubtable truth that this was the world he would fight and die for because he loved it, because the world needed it, and because he would have nothing but the very best for it, no matter what he had to face for it.
And that goal was shared with one other creature.
Opening his eyes, he drew himself up, setting his jaw and stiffening his back as he told the World Weaver, “It’s time we take action.  I’m going to face the Spectre.  With you.”