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// I Can't Cry 
// Story: Statistic 
// by FriendlyTwo3 
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I can’t cry. Celestia wouldn’t allow it. Our army is already so small, we don’t need anypony crying as they approach the battlefield. The sky is red, the sunlight reflecting off the crystals that make up the massive empire. I can see its gleaming walls in the distance. The crystals have long turned black. They don’t look magical anymore. The proud crystal city is in ruin. And above it stands King Sombra’s empire.

I’m fitted in cheap, hastily made armor. The armor feels like it’s made out of tin, just painted gold. I can see where the paint is scratching off. My helmet is flimsy and smells like somepony else. On the inside of it is a faded blood stain. I wonder who died in this helmet, or who fell in this armor before it was passed to me. My legs are trembling. Whether it’s from the exhaustion of two days without sleep, the nervousness, or malnutrition I’ve no idea. My last meal was a half a can of applesauce. Everypony has grown sick of the stuff, but it’s in as much abundance as it can get, so we eat it. The hayfields have long dried out. The farms have all withered and died. All hope is gone in Equestria, and King Sombra’s reign is fast approaching.

I’m not talking, but in my head I still call him King Sombra. He likes to be called King. I don’t want to anger him in case he can read minds. It’s an irrational fear, but it’s one I cannot shake. He’s displayed so much power. It wouldn’t surprise me. Celestia has tried her best to keep our hopes up, to keep us from the inevitable depression, but it never worked.

I can see King Sombra’s army in front of the Crystal Empire’s walls. Their armor is shining and black. Their eyes are all glowing green. They look so well defended. They hold spears and swords and we hold sticks and stones. Their numbers are many while ours are few. Their armor is steel. Ours is plastic.

Our only defense is the Pegasi. Crystal ponies cannot fly, and so the Wonderbolts are our only chance. Without them this war would have ended long ago. They are flying above our heads, ready to strike. Their armor looks like it’s in much better condition than ours. Celestia pooled her resources into them. I don’t blame her. The Pegasi mean something. They can bring the fight. We on the ground serve to distract the enemy, to confuse them. We are cannon fodder. The Wonderbolts’ names will go down in history, while we will simply be statistics. That is a fact I have accepted long ago. I am akin to a flake of snow that slows the enemy as he walks through us. I am the distraction. I am a number.

Celestia is at the front of us. She is our commander. Spitfire is commanding the Wonderbolts. They are flying high. We are to attack first. We are to distract them and cause an opening for the Pegasi. Even when that happens, we are still grievously outmatched. King Sombra is all powerful. He can easily take out a moving target, no matter how fast or agile they may be.

I’m galloping now. I never got a weapon. They ran out soon before they got to me. But that’s okay. Lots of us didn’t get weapons. I have magic and the Earth Ponies have strength. Celestia made sure they got weapons first. Unicorns can shoot magic, so we already have weapons. Sadly, I am not a powerful Unicorn. I failed my test at a young age and I never wanted to cast another spell again.

The enemy is right in front of me. The battle has begun. I can hear agonizing screams and the clash of metal. The enemy has weapons. I don’t. But still I run. One of their swords is knocked out of their mouth as I kick them. I blast him with a powerful magic blast, but he shakes it off. I blast him again. Still nothing. I kick him with both my back legs. He stumbles, but still remains unscathed. Their armor is tough and that kick hurt me more than him. I feel a sharp pain in my side. Another one has rammed me with his horn. Crystal ponies have sharp, needle-like horns. The attack ripped a hole straight through my ‘armor’ and now I’m bleeding badly. I kick the newcomer to the fray. Again, it does nothing to him. I look for help, for Celestia. Her magic is strong. But she’s far away.

The Pegasi have descended and my two attackers are ripped from their positions in front of me. A Pegasus has picked them both up and hauled them over the dark crystal wall. My side hurts like nothing I’ve felt before. I’m quickly losing blood. In my saddlebag is a dirty bandage, so I dig it out and apply it. It adds to the pain but stop the bleeding, so it’ll keep me alive.

So many ponies are dying. So many Unicorns are blasting the enemies and so many Earth Ponies are killing them. In this moment I feel worthless. I was never made for war. I was drafted. I wasn’t cut out for war and I’m still not. The enemy is winning and we’re dying. The Pegasi helped but they’re being killed by magic blasts. I can see a powerful storm of energy, black as night and blasting Pegasi out of the sky with ease. I can only assume this is King Sombra. One of the Unicorns to my right is fighting an enemy. She looks so young. She has no cutie mark. But then, I don’t either. I run to her, straining to ignore the searing pain in my side. With all my might I throw myself at the attacker, but he grabs me and flips me over, slamming my back into the ground. The crystal pony raises its legs and slams them down onto my chest, denting my armor and shattering one of my ribs. I cry out in pain and I can see the tiny Unicorn try to run. The armored crystal pony calls her back with its magic and stabs her through the neck with its horn. The tiny Unicorn screams, gurgles, spits up some blood, and is thrown dead on the ground. The crystal pony faces me.

I look at the Unicorn. She looked like she was about ten or eleven. What her name was I’ll never know. Nopony will ever know. She is a statistic just the same as me. Her face will fade from everypony’s minds so quickly. Tomorrow it will be like she never existed. Her armor will be passed to the next young filly, and if it isn’t too torn up, it will be passed to the next. Mine won’t. There’s a large dent in the chest and a hole in the side. I failed to protect the next pony this armor would have been passed to. I failed to protect the little Unicorn. I failed my magic test. I failed Equestria.

The crystal pony rears up again and slams down on my stomach, cracking the armor and probably rupturing some internal organ. I scream again and I can feel something inside me leaking. Internal bleeding is something that can’t be solved with bandages. The crystal pony sits over me and punches me in the face, knocking out one of my teeth and sending blood spurting into my mouth. I spit it out and choke. I’m going to drown in my own blood. The pony hits me again, causing both of my nostrils to bleed. Blood trails down my cheeks. She hits me again and I can’t see out of my right eye. I close my other eye so I can’t see it coming. She hits me again, causing a disturbance to my cheek bone. All I can do is listen over the ringing in my ears. My only sense is hearing. And I hear crying.

The pony above me is crying. She’s telling me she’s sorry as she’s hitting me. Her hooves tremble as she rears up to hit me again. My neck swells and inflames. It’s hard to breathe. The crystal pony above me is sobbing. I can feel her punches getting weaker. She’s banging on my chest without actually hitting me. She’s crying so hard and in that moment I knew.

The crystal ponies aren’t evil. Sombra is a dictator. These poor ponies are killing against their will. They’re slaughtering and being slaughtered by Sombra’s will. This crystal pony is killing children to keep her own family safe. And in that moment I knew there was hope. No matter what happens to Equestria the crystal ponies will always have themselves. I give myself comfort in knowing that someday perhaps a rebellion could occur. Sombra will be overthrown no matter what. The pony has left me. I’m lying in a puddle of my own tears and blood. I can’t breathe. There’s blood clogging my closed up throat. I’m dizzy and I feel the need to vomit. It comes up but stops at the blockage in my throat. I know it’s not food waste. It’s blood that I would puke up. I can feel my broken rib poking my lung everytime I try to breathe. I can feel blood spilling into my stomach. I’m dying. I’m a statistic. I will be nothing more than a tally mark on a wall. That’s what I will amount to. But in these last moments I know there is hope. Everything’s going white. Everything’s quiet.

I won’t amount to more than a name in a book. My tag will hang in a hall of thousands of other tags. I accomplished nothing. But I learned that there is hope. I won’t matter. In the grand scheme of things, the crystal ponies matter. Their hearts will save everypony. I won’t. That’s impossible.

I’m a statistic in the war against King Sombra. I won’t be remembered, so there’s no need to remember my name. But I want to hear it one last time. One final goodbye.

Farewell, Twilight Sparkle.