Chapter 21
The Cost of Vengeance
Numb. Hollow. Alone. Since that fateful day I'd fallen from the sky, I'd had the luxury of a life where these words held no real meaning to me. Today, as the night descended once more over the land, I was reminded of their meaning. The comfortable warmth that had grown in me since that day had been extinguished, and its absence left my soul cold and desolate. The frigidity in my veins made it seem like the sun would never again shine on me, not that I deserved its warmth anyways. Something vital within me had been torn away, and I was aching at the void it left. I was hurt, guilty, alone and afraid… and Celestia damn me to the moon for a thousand years, I turned to the one solution I knew to remedy the problem. Each step took monumental effort, as if I was slogging through deep mud, but I eventually made my way to Berry’s.
To her credit, Berry took one look at me and poured me a strong drink. I fumbled some bits onto the counter before collecting my drink and secluding myself in the most remote corner of the café I could find, sitting with my back into a corner. I slugged down almost a quarter of the glass’s contents in a few gulps, the fiery sensation in my throat bearing the promise of sweet oblivion. From my seat, I could see the front door to the café, though not the counter or register due to the corner of the wall. I saw Berry approach the couple inside the diner and engage them in a short conversation as she gestured to the tables on the patio. The pair smiled and stood, collecting their drinks as they relocated to the tables outside. As soon as they were out the door, Berry flipped the sign to ‘closed’ and drew the shades in the windows before making her way to my table. She took one look at me and threw her arms around me in a hug. I didn’t react at all to this invasion of personal space, as that would have required some sort of ability to care.
Berry pulled herself away from me, placing her hooves on my shoulders and looking at me with concern plainly etched across her features. I brought the glass back to my lips, taking a long draught of the amber liquid. It didn’t burn as much this time, and I could already feel the cold emptiness being filled in by the warmth of my escape mechanism. My emotional numbness was supplanted by the merciful apathy of alcohol, blunting the edge of my grief. I'd more or less known that this was going to happen once I came clean, but that did nothing to ease the pain of actually living it. Did this mean that the wedding was off? Was she leaving me for good, or did she just need time and space to think? I raised the glass for another taste of oblivion, only to find that it was much heavier than before. So heavy, in fact, that I couldn’t pick it up. My eyes swam into focus from where I'd been staring into space, taking note of a hoof holding my glass down. I looked up from my glass only to find that Berry was looking at me expectantly, and with a definite air of worry about her.
I managed to cock my eyebrow in an inquisitive manner, which was about the sum total of my capability to show emotion at the moment. Berry repeated the question she’d apparently just asked me.
“Dave, are you okay? What’s going on, dude? Did something happen with Joy?”
I am usually a pretty happy fellow, especially around my friends, and even more so with alcohol involved. It is rare to see me without at least a little bit of a grin on my face, even at times when I don’t feel like smiling. Especially when I don’t feel like smiling. On those rare occasions where I’m not smiling, I look like an angry sonuvabitch. I can’t help it, it’s just the way my face looks. In certain situations, such as the one in which I found myself at that moment, my expression lends itself perfectly to the conveyance of my emotions without even trying. Without really meaning to, I shot Berry a withering glare. Her ears immediately folded back and she removed her hoof from my shoulder and the other from the top of my glass, recoiling in shock from my hostile stare. Suddenly freed of the extra weight Berry’s hoof had provided, my glass jerked upwards slightly, a bit of the amber liquid sloshing out onto the table. I ignored the coolness dripping down my hoof as I held Berry under the weight of my gaze.
The emptiness within me was metastasizing, warping from its initial loneliness into a pleasant warmth as the alcohol filled the space Joy had left behind. Berry’s question was a spark, a catalyst. The reaction it triggered set the alcohol in my blood ablaze, stoking the embers of self-loathing, guilt, and sheer, mindless rage into an all-consuming inferno that exploded through my veins. All of the blue feelings that I'd been harboring within me… the shame, the regret, my resignation to the fact that I deserved to lose Joy… they were all ignited, and the alcohol fanned the flames higher. I'd become the Dave-ferno once more, though this time there were no peppers to blame for my rage. I felt the pressure building within me, all of my pain and anger looking for a place to escape. As my fury built, I yet held Berry pinned under my gaze. I was no Fluttershy, but I had a stare all my own; a stare that the buttery pegasus herself could never muster. One that I doubted anypony in this benevolent nation could muster, because I possessed something that was nearly as alien to this world as I was: malice.
In my gaze there was borne the threat of terrible suffering and pain, inflicted gleefully. I was not born of this world, was not made soft by the geniality, pacifism, and good will that was omnipresent in society. And though I wore the avatar of a pony, I was still a human. I was a member of a species capable of the most depraved acts of violence and sadism, the scope of which was beyond fathom. I had personally tasted blood, reveled in the thrill of the chase, and basked in the glory of a kill. At my core, I was a predator, a hunter… and as Berry stared into my eyes, I knew she’d seen this. The ancestral part of her brain that housed the instincts of a prey animal was terrified into paralysis by my glare, and I could almost smell her fear. I broke my gaze through a force of will I didn’t know I possessed, tearing my eyes from hers and focusing instead on the amber liquid. I still seethed with anger, malice, and more than a few sadistic desires, but even in this state, I recognized that Berry wasn’t my target. She didn’t deserve that. In the pregnant silence, I took another drink.
Only a hoof-full of seconds had passed since she had asked a simple question of me, but in those few seconds, things had changed. The alcohol sharpened my pain and strengthened my anger, but it also granted me a bit of much needed clarity, focusing my rage and honing it into a razor’s edge. Berry was not the target of my anger, though it took me a few seconds too long to realize it. In those few seconds, she’d caught a glimpse of a darker side of me, and I knew that she’d never look at me quite the same again. Maybe that would bother me someday, maybe not. For the moment though, it could not have been more inconsequential. Perhaps a dozen seconds after she’d asked her question, Berry followed up with another.
“Dave. What in the name of Tartarus was that? I asked you a question, because I care about you, and you look like you want to tear me limb from limb for it. That… was terrifying. Look at this! I’m shaking!”
I didn’t glance up from my drink, but I could see her outstretched hoof trembling violently. Silently, I took another sip.
“Dave? Please… say something. You’re really scaring me right now. Is Joy okay? Did something happen to her?”
A moment of silence passed as I considered my response. When I spoke, my voice was a deep growl, laden with scarcely repressed anger and spite despite my efforts to keep it neutral.
“Joy? She’s fine, mostly. Probably mad at me. Can’t blame her, though.”
Berry, despite her fear from a moment ago, now spoke in a demanding tone. “’Mostly’ fine? Dave, you’d better explain what exactly you mean by ‘mostly’ fine.”
I didn't even care enough to shrug. “Like I said. She’s probably mad at me. I had to tell her some things that she wasn’t keen to hear.”
Berry physically relaxed, slouching in relief. “Oh, so she’s not physically hurt? And what kind of things?”
I answered by taking another sip, a longer one this time. Some things are best kept private. The silence stretched on once more as Berry made it clear that she was still waiting for a response. My already-hot temper flared up, and I snapped a bit more than I meant to.
“I didn’t hurt her, dammit. I never could, never would. And you want to know what I told her? Huh? Is that it? You want to be privy to our little secrets? Too fucking bad. All I have to say about it is that she found out the hard way that I’m not nearly the pony everypony makes me out to be, and it broke her fucking heart. And once she knew the truth about me, she kicked me out. Are you happy now?!”
At some point, my voice had risen to just shy of a shout. I clenched my jaws together to stifle the urge to scream, the almost overwhelming desire to vent my pain. I once more locked Berry in my gaze, baring my teeth as I ground them and staring daggers at her. I would never hurt her, would never hurt a mare, but my gaze said differently. I was glaring at her with the full force of my hatred, and I despised her for making me think about Joy, about my pain. This time, Berry didn’t flinch, didn’t cower. She didn’t even look particularly scared. Instead, she just looked… sad. My vision swam, and I realized that I was crying. And that was all it took.
With that first tear, the fire burning in my gut was extinguished, the hatred that had given me strength and resolve withering to naught. Metastasizing one last time, the rage in my gut came full circle, returning to anguish at the thought of all I'd lost today. My glare faltered under the onslaught of my tears, and the lips that bared my teeth began to quiver. As the surge of emotions passed through me and carried away the anger that had propped me up, I deflated like a balloon. I buried my face in the crook of my elbow and simply wept in silence. Even before I'd felt the first tear, Berry had seen the change in me and moved to comfort me. By the time I'd buried my face, she’d had her arm around my shoulder, offering comfort. Though I made no move to show it, I appreciated her gesture. After a minute or two, I was able to beat my emotions into submission and cram them into a box, stemming the flow. I raised my head from my arm and muttered a brief thanks, to which Berry simply smiled.
I was still hurt, confused, angry, and lonely, but I was starting to feel better, if only just. By the time I'd collected myself sufficiently to venture outside, the night had risen and the moon was well above the horizon. After politely refusing Berry’s offer of a place to sleep (several times over), I set off for a friend’s house, intent on calling in a favor. I'd managed to locate Derpy’s house without any difficulty at all. The muffin-shaped mailbox was a pretty solid indicator, after all. I drew up to the doorstep and took a deep breath to collect myself before knocking. I reached up to knock, but a sound from within made me stop short, a fraction of an inch before contact. From the other side of the door, I heard laughter.
I recognized Derpy’s laughter immediately, but the other voice was unfamiliar; a rather deep chuckle with a tantalizingly familiar timbre to it. I stood there for a second, trying to place the voice, before it registered that I was standing on Derpy’s porch and eavesdropping on what was most likely a date. Immediately ashamed of myself, I turned and trotted off into the night as quickly as my slightly-un-coordinated hooves would carry me.
After a moment of consideration, I figured that the oak tree in the meadow outside of town would be as good a place as any to spend the night. Somewhat less-than-thrilled at the fact that I'd be spending the night in a tree instead of Joy’s embrace, I stopped for a moment to dig into my saddlebags for Berry’s parting gift to me; a simple copper flask, filled with that delicious brandy. I took a little nip of the elixir, and was fastening the stopper once more when I became aware of a group of ponies approaching me from behind, roughly at my five o’clock. I slipped the flask back into my bag, about to resume my trek, when I heard a voice that stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Well I’ll be… look what we have here, boys. It’s that hero everypony was so worked up about a while back. Say there, bird brain, where’s your bitch?”
I felt something stir within the coals of my earlier anger as soon as this colt began to speak, but when he insulted Joy like that, exaggerating every sound and drawing it out like that… I could feel the rage returning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that this was going to get really ugly, really quickly. That same little voice in the back of my head began to scream at them to run away, begging them not to do this… it’s a shame they couldn’t hear it. My pulse began to race as the adrenaline surged into my veins. I turned to face them, and I counted five of them. The walking waste of space that was the brown pony I'd had a run in with on my way to the gala, and his four other earth pony chums. None of those four looked even slightly familiar, so I assumed they were from out of town.
The fire in my belly was back, and with a vengeance at that. Here I was, angry, hurt, somewhat inebriated, and outnumbered five-to-one… and I couldn’t help but smile. My gaze hopped from one to the next, lingering just long enough to gauge their eagerness for a fight. All five of them looked like they planned on stomping me into paste, and my maniacal grin grew wider yet. Locking my eyes onto those of the brown one from earlier, I stared him down with a slightly psychotic smile.
“Oh, it’s you again. I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that last bit quite right. Care to run it by me again?”
Cocoa, as I had decided to call him, met my gaze with a cocky smirk. “Are you deaf and stupid, bird brain? You heard me. Where’s. Your. Bitch?”
I felt my blood run cold as the adrenaline and my desire to hurt something collided. This was going to be… messy. When Cocoa had accosted me initially, he had been about fifteen meters away from me. For dramatic effect, he punctuated his last three words by taking a step forward after each. This was apparently a signal to the others, who moved to encircle me. While I was not generally a violent being, the temptation here was simply too much to resist. Not only was I angry prior to this jackass’s confrontation, but I was also outnumbered by a significant margin. The way he insulted Joy was just the icing on top. No, I wasn’t about to walk away from this one. I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling in malevolent delight.
“Ah, yes. I thought as much. Do you remember what I said to you, the day of the Gala?”
I stared him down, yearning for this fight. I was going to make sure he never forgot this night, so long as he lived.
“No, mister tough pony. It seems to have slipped my mind. How’s about you remind me, so we can rub it in your face as we scrape you off our hooves?”
I saw it in his eyes. He remembered exactly what I'd said, but he was trying not to show it. He was acting tough, but I saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes. He’d had a taste of my speed before, and it scared him. As well it should.
I took a deep breath, shuffling my wings slightly to loosen the joints. “I told you that if I ever heard you insult a mare again, I'd knock the taste out of your mouth.”
I looked around at the two ponies flanking Cocoa, making eye contact with each in turn as I finished my statement.
“And that if you ever insulted my mare again, I'd break your legs.”
I punctuated my ultimatum by locking my death glare on each of the three ponies I could see in time with my words.
“One. By. One.”
Maybe it was my maniacal grin, or maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t flown away despite ample opportunity to, but I could see the uncertainty growing in their eyes as I delivered my declaration. Cocoa’s eyes widened for a second as doubt gripped him, but he shook it off and narrowed his eyes at me.
“Stomp him.”
Time slowed to a crawl as all hell broke loose on a back street in Ponyville. An instant before Cocoa gave the word, his eyes darted to an area just beyond my right shoulder. Apparently, one of them was trying to sneak up on me from behind. That was a bad idea. I heard the gravel behind me shift slightly as the unfortunate pony readied to tackle me from behind, and I lashed out with a vicious buck, both of my hooves catching the would-be attacker square in the chest. I felt ribs crack and splinter under the force of my blow. The force of my attack sent me sprawling forward, and I executed a flawless combat roll and landed, crouching, on all fours. I had a split second to react, and I dodged to my right an instant before a pair of forehooves pulverized the ground I'd just stood on. I struck out with a straight jab from my left forehoof, angling the thickest part of it towards the orange stallion’s front knee. The joint gave way with a crunchy pop, and the owner of it roared in pain as he collapsed.
I was blindsided by a body slam from my right side, the force of which sent me tumbling for a good five meters. The instant I came to a stop, my vision was filled by a lime colored stallion, rearing up to deliver what very well could be a fatal blow. My body moved faster than I could consciously register as my wings provided the leverage to roll me onto my shoulder blades, my back legs now perpendicular to the abdomen of my assailant. I bucked with all the force I could muster, catching this lime pony in mid-stomp and arresting his downward momentum. I was able to shift him to my left as he crumpled, preventing him from landing on top of me and pinning me under his bulk. My vision was suddenly filled with stars and a strobing light, and I had the feeling that I was airborne. My collision with the ground confirmed this feeling, and I could feel the ground shake as a very angry pony galloped towards me. I'd barely regained my hooves before I was rocked by another solid blow, this one landing just above my left eye. Had I been sober, this blow would have dropped me like a sack of flour. I was not, however, sober; and because of this I was a bit more limber than usual. I somehow managed to roll with the strike, dissipating a knockout blow into a mere brown-out.
I remained where I'd landed as a result of the blow, my head spinning far too quickly to stand. My attacker, a light blue fellow, sauntered up to me to deal the finishing blow as I struggled to get my hooves back under me. Though my legs weren’t working as well as they should, I was far from immobilized, as the cyan stallion discovered the hard way. As soon as he got within three meters of me, I exploded towards him with a single, mighty flap. I caught him just under his jaw with my shoulder as we collided, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he dropped like a stone. I landed a bit roughly, fighting the nausea growing in the pit of my stomach. Moans rose from all around me, each telling the tale of a serious injury from those who were conscious. I was gasping for breath and bleeding heavily from the gash over my left eye as I surveyed the scene. Almost immediately, I found what I was searching for.
Or, to be specific, who I was searching for.
Cocoa stood in the same place he’d stood as he gave his friends the word to attack. The only difference was that his once confident smirk had been replaced by an open-mouthed gape of shock and revulsion. Though my left eye was quickly swelling closed and matting with blood, I stared him down with my one good eye. Wheezing from what was most likely another cracked rib, I glared at him and smiled a bloody smile.
“Heh… look… look at you. Can’t… can’t even fight… your own battles. Sent your buddies… to do your dirty work. Heh. Y’all see this? He hasn’t… hasn’t even moved… to help you. Pathetic.”
I spit a glob of blood onto the sidewalk. Oh, I was going to enjoy this.
“Heh… remember what I said… I was going to do? Heh… I meant it.”
Being the paragon of steadfast courage that he was, Cocoa stood his ground.
Nah, I’m kidding. He ran like the scared filly he was. I took a moment to watch him go, trying to catch my breath. There was no way I was going to let him escape. Not with how intoxicated and angry I was; not after what he said about Joy, about my Joy. Not a chance.
“Look colts. There goes your fearless… leader. Running away.”
I could see the resentment in the orange one’s eyes as he looked at his so-called friend abandoning him after standing by and watching him get beaten without so much as lifting a hoof to help. As Cocoa ran, I could feel my blood begin to surge anew as a fresh spurt of adrenaline poured into my veins. The thrill of the chase was upon me, and the haze in my mind rapidly dissipated as my pain faded to little more than an annoyance. With a deranged half-smile, I roared my words into the night sky, loud enough that Luna Herself must have heard them.
“Run all you want, you’ll just DIE TIRED!”
My words struck their mark, and I could see Cocoa pick up his pace even further as he tried to escape. Lights began to come on in the windows overlooking the street, and yet others swung open to reveal grumpy and disheveled ponies who’d been roused from slumber.
Good. Let them watch. Let them see what comes to those who insult my love, my Joy.
I launched myself into the air with a single powerful flap, and immediately poured on every bit of speed I could. I tore through the skies after Cocoa like a demon from hell, bent on vengeance. I closed the distance at a breakneck speed, tucking my wings to my side as I plowed into him. The both of us were sent sprawling on the gravel from the force of the impact, but I was far quicker to recover. I was riding so high on a surge of adrenaline that I barely even felt the impact. As I pulled myself onto my hooves, I became aware that my right shoulder was not working the way it should, and saw that it appeared to be dislocated. I hobbled over to a nearby wall, lined up the joint where I thought it should be, and promptly rammed it back into place against the building with a sickening crunch. A white hot flare of pain surged across my neurons, shutting out everything else for an instant before it faded. There was still a dull, throbbing pain in the joint, but I could deal with that later. I rounded on the downed pony, chuckling darkly.
Cocoa had come to rest in the center of a pool of light cast by a street lamp. There was a small pool of blood stemming from a gash on his foreleg. The lighting… the audience of shocked onlookers… this was my stage. This was where I'd teach him a lesson, for all the world to see. There was a voice in the back of my mind, pleading and begging for me not to do this, to just walk away… but it was too late. I realized then that I was no longer in control of my actions, I was just along for the ride. I'd endured quite the beating because of this waste of flesh. All of my self-loathing for the lies I'd told… the anger I'd felt for not having the courage to tell Joy sooner… my fear that I'd driven away the one mare I'd loved the most… my utter revulsion at this worthless sack of meat at my hooves, who insulted the mare I loved and was then too cowardly to stand and face the consequences… all of these things motivated me to do this, to make good on my word. But in the end, it was the alcohol in my blood that gave me the ruthlessness to carry it out.
I stood over Cocoa, leering down at him as my blood dripped onto his coat, intermingling with his own. The pathetic creature groaned in pain as his eyes swam into focus. His eyes locked on mine, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.
“N-no! Please, don’t do this! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I swear!”
My voice was no longer so much a voice as a snarl as I snapped back at him.
“Didn’t mean it? You sent you four buddies to try and kill me. And I take offense to that. Then, you run off like a COWARD?! No, you deserve this. Unlike you, I live up to my word.” The words spilling from my mouth tasted bitter as the memories of the lies I'd told Joy floated across my mind. I'd sworn to myself that I'd tell the truth from that moment onward. What kind of precedent would I set if I failed to carry out my promise? “I told you that if you ever insulted the mare I loved again, I'd break your legs.”
His eyes went wider still as I lifted up my right rear hoof.
“One.”
I brought my hoof down onto his leg with brutal force, feeling the bones beneath it splinter under the blow. He screamed in pain, but I was too far away, too detached to notice.
“By.”
Another brutal blow, another snap. Tears poured from his eyes as he screamed. Miles away, other ponies were screaming in horror. I realized, in a casual sort of way, that I was crying too.
“Fucking.”
Another snap as I brought my forehoof down on his right forelock. He vomited and passed out. Ponies were sprinting towards me, intent to head off the carnage and stop the brutal attack. They would arrive too late to prevent me from living up to my promise.
“ONE!”
I drove my hoof into his left forelock with all the force I could muster, feeling it splinter before I was struck by a massive dark object. Everything spiraled into blackness as I fell and kept falling.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The next morning was quite possibly the worst day of my life. I was little more than a writhing ball of agony strapped to a gurney as various figures of authority insisted on trying to interrogate me. Everything in the last twenty four hours seemed like a terrible nightmare, and I was constantly being assaulted by images, feelings, and sounds from it. The crunch as my hoof obliterated whatever it’d struck. The screams of pain… oh Luna, the screams… the screams went on forever, seemingly echoing from everywhere until the nurses came running and jabbed a big shiny needle into me… the screaming stopped once I'd closed my mouth.
It all seemed surreal, like some sort of terrible dream from which I could not wake. I'd received a bit of severe head trauma from being swatted with what apparently was a fruit cart, and I found that the first few hours after I'd awoken had blurred in my mind, forming a murky smear of impressions and strangely, smells. Soon enough though, things began to return to normal as my brain slowly came back online from the hard reboot. By mid-afternoon, I was mostly coherent, if a little bit slow. The ponies with all of the questions were back now, but this time they only came one at a time and spoke softly and slowly. The tube in my arm was pumping something heavenly into my battered body, and I could almost feel my body knitting itself back together.
By dinner time, I was paid a visit by the Sergeant of the Guard for Ponyville; an older stallion with a grey coat and a close-shorn blond mane by the name of Sarge. It turned out, he had stopped by my room to give me a final update on the case, in which I was both a victim and defendant somehow, before he submitted his report to the court. Long story short, I was being charged with one charge of aggravated battery for my ‘unprecedented brutality’ against what’s-his-face, aka Cocoa. During the investigation, they had managed to piece together the events of the night before.
Basically, this was how Sarge explained the events to me. At about eighteen hundred, I'd been involved in a domestic dispute that ended peacefully. No further details had been provided for that part. At around eighteen thirty, I arrived at Berry’s Smoothies, where I was served approximately twelve servings’ worth of alcohol. I had a minor emotional event, but was recovered and reportedly in better spirits by twenty-one hundred. At or around twenty-two fourteen, I was accosted by five male earth ponies, two of whom had received some form of martial arts training. Four of the attackers, including the martial artists, were found at the scene and hospitalized for injuries, such as broken ribs, a moderate concussion, severe (and most likely permanently debilitating) soft tissue damage to a knee, and a ruptured kidney. All of these injuries had been a result of lawful self-defense, and I was given the option to press charges against all five of them for organized crime or attempted murder or something… I couldn’t recall what exactly it was that he’d called it.
Immediately following this altercation, at precisely sixteen minutes past twenty-two hundred hours, there were numerous reports of a stallion (who was apparently me) yelling ‘die tired’. Most witnesses agree that there was more to the exclamation than that, but they conflict as to the actual content. This next portion is where I stop being considered the victim and become the assailant. Based on the number of witnesses and the overwhelming corroboration, they knew exactly what had happened next. I took flight, accelerating to just over an estimated hundred kilometers per hour before intentionally colliding with the remaining assailant. At this point, Sarge paused for a moment to tell me just how lucky I was to survive this.
I already knew most of it, but he really drove the point home. As far as ability to withstand blunt-force-type trauma (such as being smacked by a fruit cart) goes, earth ponies and pegasi are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Earth ponies’ bones are far thicker and stronger than pegasi bones, which need to be light and flexible to fly. Slamming into an earth pony who outweighed me by seventy kilos or so, at the speed that I had been traveling, should have broken just about every bone in my body or killed me outright. Instead, I got off with just a dislocated shoulder, which I relocated myself, though incorrectly. Sarge attributed this to my physical condition and to the fact that I was inebriated. Drunks tend to bend, rather than break.
Anecdote aside, Sarge picked up where he’d left off. After I'd smashed into Cocoa, everypony figured I was pretty much done for. When I was not only not dead, but up and moving, the witnesses were shocked into inaction. I then relocated my shoulder against a nearby building and stood over the victim. There was a brief exchange involving the word ‘coward’, and then I stomped on each of his legs one at a time, as I yelled out the words “one”, “by”, “expletive deleted”, and “one”. Ponies were so shocked by this level of brutality that nopony even started to move until the second strike. A nearby unicorn threw a fruit cart at me, but she was just a little bit too late. To my morbid amusement, she received a ticket for illegally parking it in the street after she hit me with it. By recounting the events of that night, Sarge had helped to fill in some of the blank spots in my recollection of the evening, for which I was greatly thankful. Flipping his notebook closed, Sarge fixed me with a hard stare.
“Son, I’m not going to lie to ya. You’re damned lucky to have survived this. Based on what we could gather about the initial ambush you found yourself in, Fortune smiled on you, and hard at that. Keep in mind, most of this information came from the ones you were bein’ ambushed by. The first pony you dropped, with that darned lucky buck of yours? Name’s Ironshod. Easily the most dangerous pony o’ the bunch. He’s some high-rank-or-another in Rolling Earth style, and he’s won a good number of tournaments against skilled opponents. I got to see one of his bouts, and I tell you now… you would not have walked away from that one if you didn’t get the drop on him. Even aside from Ironshod, five on one are not good odds for anypony.”
“The blue buck’s named Skybreeze, and he’s a student of the Swift Hoof style. Seems you two might’ve been an even match if it were one-on-one. The other two were just drinking pals from back in Filly, which is where they all met a few years ago. The brown one, Mocha; he’s their leader, of sorts. You ticked him off pretty bad a few months ago, and he was holding a grudge.”
I'd only been half listening to anything that came after I learned about Ironshod. All I could think was that I took out a martial artist with a lucky shot, and he probably wasn’t very happy with me about it. I cleared my throat to get Sarge’s attention to ask a question that, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I'd like the answer to.
“So… Sarge. About Ironshod… how angry do you think he is about all of this?”
“Him? He’s none too pleased about this at all. This sort of thing rubs him the wrong way, as you might imagine.”
“Damn. Do you… what are the chances that he’ll try to get even?”
“Knowing his temper, I'd say it’s more a matter of when than if.”
I felt the ball of ice growing in my stomach again. “Is there anything you can do about it?”
“Not hardly. That’s Filly’s jurisdiction, not mine.”
Maybe it was the concussion speaking, but this last part didn't make sense. I lived in Ponyville, not Filly. “Filly? How is Filly going to stop him from smearing me into the dirt?”
Sarge looked at me funny for a second before responding. “You? He isn’t mad at you, buck. It’s Mocha who’s going to be looking over his shoulder for a while. Heck, Ironshod was actually pretty impressed by that buck of yours, even if it was just a lucky shot. No, I reckon he’s far angrier at being lied to by his pal Mocha. Weren’t ya listening to a word I said?”
I exhaled deeply, very relieved not to have that to worry about.
“Honestly? I was preoccupied with the whole ‘Ironshod is going to destroy me’ thing. Last thing I caught was about Skybreeze.”
“Figures you’d miss the important part. I just said that Mocha lied to ‘em to get ‘em riled up. From what I can gather, he saw you alone at night and far from anypony who might help, and he concocted some horseapple story about seeing you hit a mare… or was it that you had your mare fight your battles for you? Either way, it was hogwash, but it still got those bucks right heated at you. Heated enough to convince a couple of trained fighters to attack an unknown buck five-to-one, at any rate. And you don’t have to worry about them none. I already told them the story, same as what I told you. Matter of fact, I know Ironshod wanted to give you a hoof-bump for what you did to Mocha. At any rate, to get back to what I was telling you before y’all distracted me.”
“You’re bein’ charged with one count of aggravated battery for the way you chased down, beat, and maimed Mocha with a vengeance. That’s down from one count of attempted murder in the first degree, and four counts of aggravated assault and battery. The only reason those other charges were even brought up is because by sheer, dumb coincidence, Mocha’s got kin at the courthouse. That turd-colored fool tried to spin it like you attacked them.”
Sarge sighed wearily, and the bags under his eyes made it easy to see that he’d been working nonstop since the incident.
“But here’s the catch. It’s up to you to press charges or not. I wish there was another way, but unfortunately, this is an all-or-nothing sort of deal. We can’t bring Mocha up on charges without having to do the same for the other four. When I spoke to them about it, they wanted you to nail him for this, even though they’d be on the line just the same as him. Your call.”
If there was one feeling that I could relate to right now, it was the desire for revenge. But I was just as keenly aware of the terrible cost that revenge could bring. I could still hear the screams of horrified ponies ringing in my ears, and I started to wonder what Joy would think of this. That thought brought a flood of conflicting emotions, and I stomped on the thought with extreme prejudice, quashing the emotions with it. Yes, I knew the drive for revenge. But I was also beginning to see the costs, as the fallout and the rumors from the night before spread through town like ripples in a pond.
“Drop the charges. He’ll get what’s his, one way or the other. Those other four shouldn’t have to suffer any more because of him.”
Sarge nodded sagely, as if privy to some great and ancient wisdom, before he tipped his hat and left the room. In his wake, the room seemed nearly as desolate as I felt, and the emotions I'd quelled were fighting to resurface. I was no longer strapped to the gurney, having been determined to be both lucid and harmless enough not to warrant being confined in such a manner. At some point, I had come to realize that I was in the hospital that employed me, and after a bit of deductive reasoning, concluded that I was in the east wing. Joy’s wing.
No, not thinking about that. Squash the feelings inside, cage them. Not here, and not now.
I tried to distract myself by studying the nurses that walked by my open door. I soon regretted this choice. Most of the nurses that walked by paid me no mind, as I would expect from a busy pony. There were some, though… they slowed their gait and peered into my room, wearing an expression of fear and wonder. Like I was some sort of animal. I dropped my gaze from the doorway, unable to bear the sight of myself being ogled at like an animal on display. Dinner came and went, and I devoured the bland food with my usual gusto. I might have been injured, but it had been an entire day since I'd last eaten. I was settling in for a long night of staring at the wall when the sound of hooves approaching caught my attention. I'd been listening to ponies walking by my door all day, but these steps were different. Each step produced a heavy thud, and was punctuated by a metallic ping. I looked up to the doorway just in time to see a familiar shadow darken it.
Ironshod stood in the doorway, seeming to loom over me far more than his height should allow. He was about a head taller than I was, but his body was cut with the lines of perfectly toned muscle. His mottled grey coat reminded me of gravel, but even the odd speckles on it did little to hide the fact that this buck’s body was a precision instrument of pain; a finely honed product of martial arts prowess. If not for his amicable smile, I probably would have started frantically hitting the alert button for the nurses. He walked over to the side of my bed, pulling up a chair as he did so. He extended his hoof for a hoof-bump, and I caught the glint of metal as his hoof caught the light. Ironshod, indeed. I reached out and gave his hoof a tap. He smiled warmly and took a seat, speaking as he did so.
“So, you’re the buck who thrashed Moe. Nice to meet you. Name’s Ironshod.”
I smiled nervously. “Dave. Nice to meet you as well. So, no hard feelings?”
He shook his massive head. “Nah, not between us, at least. It might have been a lucky kick on your part, but there was some real power behind it, no two ways about it. I respect that. Hay, if I'd been any other pony, that kick would have given me a lot worse than just a broken rib and punctured lung.”
“I… uh… thanks?”
“It’s a compliment, and you’re welcome. I’ve just been released, and I just wanted to stop by and say that I'm sorry for what happened last night. I also wanted to meet the pony who finally gave Moe what was coming to him. I was gonna knock him stupid for what he said about your mare as soon as the fight was over, but things didn’t turn out that way.”
“You were? But… why?”
Ironshod's expression became a snarl. “Because there is a certain way that you talk about the lady folk, and that isn’t it. It was disgraceful and shameful. The only reason I didn’t drop him then and there was because he was my pal and I wanted him to settle his grudge first. I gotta admit, I admire what you did. You defended your mare’s honor in a ruthless fashion, and you sure as hay lived up to your word about what you were going to do to him. I doubt that colt will ever so much as be cross at a mare for the rest of his life.”
A moment of silence hung in the air. I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Ironshod placed a massive hoof on my shoulder, drawing my eyes to his steely gaze. “One last thing before I go, Dave. When you get out of the hospital and walk the streets, ponies are going to look at you like you’re a monster. I found this out after my first tournament. Some will fear you, others will avoid you, and most just won’t care. You did the right thing, though. Maybe you went a bit overboard, but I can see why you did. Being jumped by five ponies isn’t going to make anypony feel particularly merciful. Just hold your head high and know that you did the honorable thing.”
And with that, Ironshod stood to leave. I sat in stunned silence as the pinging of his steps faded into the din of the hallway, silence once more enshrouding me as hours slipped away. I was being kept overnight to make sure that there weren’t any latent side effects of the head trauma before I was released, a moment I was both welcoming and dreading.
The sun rose, the nurses bustled to and fro, and I was sent along my merry way. I hung my head as I stepped into the sunshine, the feeling of loss weighing heavily on my shoulders. I looked to the sky, feeling the warmth of the morning sun against my face, and I couldn’t help it… I felt an ember of hope burn within me. Each day was a gift, a precious one at that. I loved Joy with all my heart, and she loved me even more. I'd betrayed her trust and lied to her, and that had left her with a deep, gaping wound in her heart. These wounds hurt the most, scar the deepest, and take the longest to heal.
But they do heal.
In the time we’d spent together, Joy and I had forged a bond on a fundamental level. We had something rare, something special… and I had to believe that this bond was worth something to Joy. But if I'd hurt her too deeply for her to trust me again… if the bond was not enough to repair the hurt I'd caused… well, I already knew I didn’t deserve her. This would just be setting the universe back in order.
But standing there in the sunlight, basking in its warm embrace, I couldn’t help but hope. I was hoping that Joy would be able to look past her pain and her anger, hoping that “love conquers all” was more than just something we say to ourselves in the darkness of the night to shield ourselves from the cold of loneliness. I prayed to the sun and the moon that all Joy needed was time. Once the ashes settled and the jagged wound was a bit less tender… Maybe she’d take me back into her arms, and we could heal these wounds together. I had no basis other than faith that she could ever want me again.
Actually, I had one other thing; the most powerful thing anypony can have.
In the warm sunshine of this autumn day, I had hope.