//------------------------------// // Dark Clouds // Story: Into That Wild Blue Yonder // by CptBrony //------------------------------// The next morning, the young man awoke with nothing more than a dull ache in his side. Before going to sleep, he removed the bandage that had been wrapped around his torso to see a large, mostly healed up region of scabs and scar tissue. It was strange that it was healing so fast, but the young man had never been injured like that before, so he let it go. When he returned to the Gibbs’s family home, he inquired a bit about Colm Winds. Turns out, the guy had a fiery temper, and preferred to draw first and ask questions later. He was the kind of pony this place needed to defend itself. The majority of residents were too satisfied taking this abuse sitting down. Guys like Colm Winds were the only ones capable of preventing that sort of thing from happening. Gibbs went in to explain how Colm Winds came to hate the Tong so much. It broke the young man’s heart to hear how they took Colm’s parents from him when he was just a young colt, as Gibbs said. Growing up, he basically moved from house to house in the village every now and again, and while he stayed in the same town, he didn’t grow up normally like the other children. He didn’t have a family that put him first or accepted him as truly being one of their own. That kind of thing was what made people, and ponies, like the Tong so despicable. All of this hate and pain, not even for some twisted ideology or sense of self-defense. Not for the greater good, not to save the world. All for their own personal gain. The disgust genuinely wanted to make the young man vomit. Gibbs told him not to worry about it, though, so worry, the young man did not. Gibbs liked to word it as them being able to at least survive, and that was the priority. While that may be a valid point for avoiding death, it’s not a point to support total inaction that could easily meet at the same destination. The young man had his own troubles to worry about right now. Namely, how he would get to the bottom of the reservoir to get his gi and obi. Gibbs said that the items he would need would be there later in the day, but it still left the issue of the young man’s injury. If it restricted his ability to swim at all, that would make it much harder. And if the ponies really couldn’t swim almost at all, he would be on his own under all that water. It would be best to wait until another day to go and do that, he concluded. For now, he would wait until he healed up and check out the gear when it came. He might be forced to adjust some of it, though the worse of the two items would be the fins. They weren’t designed for feet, but hooves, and it was possible he would have to cut into them to make room. He also had no idea what they would be made of, but that was less of an issue. Until he had to cut them, that was. But that could wait, as they hadn’t even arrived yet. For now, the young man had to just find something to occupy himself for the day. After how his arrival disrupted the townsponies’ lives, he was certain they wouldn’t mind him helping out a little bit around the town. It would at least give him something to do. So, the young man left Gibbs’s home and set about finding somepony who could use his help. Physically, he couldn’t do much if he wanted to avoid reopening his wound, but he could at least manage a little bit. If he was lucky, somepony would need him to balance an account book or something. There were no stores, but he could still hope. When he left the house, the townsponies were naturally doing exactly what they had been doing the previous day. Rushing about, speeding up their work schedules, trying to catch up to what they missed. They would certainly appreciate a bit of assistance. The young man went up to a young mare who looked like she was at the end of her wit, sitting next to the front door of her house next to the Gibbs family home. She didn’t look up at all as he approached, didn’t seem to notice at all. It was almost as if she was asleep. “Hello?” the young man greeted. Turns out, she was asleep, and jolted upright. “Haa! Whaa-“ She looked up at the young man. “Oh, ummm, hello. C-Can I help you?” “I was actually about to ask you that,” the young man replied. The mare looked confused. “Is there anything I can help with around here? You look like you’re at the end of your rope there, little lady.” “You… you want to help?” the mare asked incredulously. The young man nodded slowly. “Sweet Celestia, thank you!” She leapt up and gave the young man a big hug. “You’re welcome,” the young man replied, pulling her off of himself. “What can I do?” “I… I normally look after the little ones in town, make sure they don’t cause too much trouble,” the mare said. “It’s fun at times, but it’s so exhausting, and their parents are all so busy right now…” “I can take over for a bit,” the young man said. “Thank you so much,” the mare said. “So where are they?” the young man asked. “They’re behind this house, playing tag,” the mare said. “Got it,” the young man said. “You go take a nap. I’ll watch over them.” The mare wordlessly stood up and went into the house, shutting the door gently behind her. The young man walked around the house to go and see just how much of a handful this was going to be. When he saw what he was dealing with, he felt instantaneous regret for picking this particular job. There were five little fillies and colts running about, and although the young man couldn’t tell their ages, he could tell that they were definitely not older than ten, or the pony equivalent. Their unbridled joy and bubbling laughter, while certainly adorable, only masked the horrors that these kids could unleash upon the unprepared. The young man liked to think he was prepared, but truthfully, he was very much not. One of the little ones spotted him and froze in place. When the others started to notice the lack of movement from one of their own, they followed her gaze and became equally as motionless. For a solid minute, they just stared at the young man, in utter awe, making him visibly uncomfortable. Of course, they couldn’t have noticed or cared if he was uncomfortable. Then, the whole thing went totally nuts. “Oh my gosh a human!” one shouted. “Where are you from, mister?” another asked. “What do you do?” “How did you get here?” “What’s that thing you left in the reservoir?” “Why are you-“ “Please, kiddos, one at a time!” the young man said with his hands up. The little ones were gathered at his feet, one of them already trying to climb up his curtain. “Line up!” one little colt shouted, jumping right to the front. “I’m first!” “No fair!” a little filly whined. “You’ll all get a question,” the young man said. “But just one.” The first colt walked up. “Where are you from?” he asked. “I grew up down in Jersey,” the young man said. “Where’s that?” the colt asked. “Now, that’s a second question,” the young man said. The colt pouted, but obediently left the line. The next one came up. “What do you do?” she asked. “Nothing right now,” the young man said. “I’m recovering. Before I was a student.” “Like at Celestia’s Academy!?” she asked. The colt in the back pouted harder. The young man laughed. “Sorry, that’s a second question,” he said, relieving the young colt of his pout. Now, the filly had one, though, but the colt made her feel better when she went to him. “How did you get here?” the next colt asked. “I have no idea,” the young man answered. “Some kind of magic, I guess. Any of you know that stuff better than I do.” The colt and others beamed at his comment, and he left the line satisfied. “What did you leave in the reservoir?” the next colt asked. “I left some usable clothes in my vehicle, which is regrettably totaled,” the young man said sadly. He had really liked that car. “It’s okay, mister, I broke one of my favorite toys once. You can get another one eventually!” the colt said enthusiastically. “Haha, I guess so,” the young man said with a smile. “I don’t think they sell Subarus in this world.” he thought privately. The last one , a little filly, came up to him. “Why are you so tall?” she asked. The young man blinked. “What?” “You’re really tall,” she said. “Like, taller than most humans we’ve heard of. Why are some of you so big?” “Uhhh…” the young man said. “I just got lucky? I also ate healthy and got my sleep growing up.” “Aha! I told you guys!” the filly said. “Nap time is good!” “I wanna be big too,” a colt said. “Well, if you sleep and eat right, you’ll get big and strong,” the young man said. Truth be told, he wasn’t the physically strongest guy around. He was wicked strong for his size, but he had always wished that the actual amount of force he could exert was greater. He had to make up for it with speed and agility. “What are you doing now?” one of the fillies asked him. “Well, you’re guardian over there looked real tired, so I offered to help for a bit,” the young an explained. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, make sure you don’t get into too much trouble.” “Can we go to the reservoir!?” a colt asked. “Our parents said to stay away from it while the car is in it, but we want to see!” “You can’t see it from the surface, and the gasoline is concentrated at the bottom,” the young man partially lied. “There’s not really anything to see…” “Pleeeeeease?” the colt asked. He gave the young man the saddest puppy eyes he had ever seen, and it only made it worse that it was something that could talk making the eyes. He couldn’t resist. “Okay, but just for a bit,” the young man said. The little ones hurrahed and jumped and laughed in their victory. After falling to the cuteness of the little ponies, the young man led them to the reservoir, where, as he expected, nothing new had happened. It was still pristine, still totally uninterrupted on the surface. Nothing was out of the ordinary from a first look. “I told you,” the young man said. When one of the colts tried to go near the water, he grabbed him up and didn’t let him go. “There are still traces of gasoline all over. Not good to even touch, let alone drink.” “I just wanted to see,” the colt complained. “I don’t know that I believe that,” the young man said. “Promise me you won’t touch it.” “I promise,” the colt said. The young man put him back to the ground and the colt sat there. “So that’s what it looks like,” a filly said. “You haven’t seen it?” the young man asked. “We aren’t supposed to go beyond the trees without our parents,” a colt explained. “They say it’s too dangerous, but why should they be allowed to go and not us?” “Wait, what!?” the young man nearly shouted. The little ones flinched back. “We’re going back. Now.” “Whaaaat?!” they all asked in unison. “You did not tell me you aren’t allowed back here,” the young man said. “That’s not cool, not cool at all. We’re going back now.” Four of the little ones marched right back through the brush that the young man cleared to get there and back to the village. One, though, didn’t move. It was the one that was going for the water, the one who seemed most inclined to cause trouble. The young man went to him impatiently to send him on his way. “You’re going back now-“ he tried to say. “Somepony is over there,” the colt said, petrified. The young man slowly looked up and saw a large, black-clad stallion staring at him and the colt. He carried a significant blade at his side, and wore an armored chest plate and face scarf. On his forehead, on the cloth, was some kind of white symbol that the young man couldn’t make out. “Kid, get back there, now,” the young man said. The colt was frozen in place. While the young man tried to urge him back to the village, the figure started to move forward, out of the shadows. It was a very large stallion, and upon closer inspection, the young man saw that he had ropes and nets attached to his sides. The young man didn’t know what he wanted, but that didn’t matter. He picked up the colt to carry him back to the village. Before he could get back to the trees, though, the figure was already a mere ten feet away. While the young man tried to urge the colt to go back, the figure had run around the reservoir to get closer. When the young man turned to carry the colt back, he spotted the figure and stopped. “Who might you be?” he asked suspiciously. “Doesn’t matter,” the figure said in a deep voice. “At least, not to you, human.” The colt suddenly shook his head and came back. “Bounty hunter,” he said in a terrified whisper. “You’re a bounty hunter?” the young man asked. “Yes, and humans are worth money,” the hunter said. “Especially ones that came with such a high level of energy. The energy of several humans.” “I assure you, I have the energy of one human,” the young man said. The colt started to squirm, and the young man put him down. “But I can make it feel like several if that’s how it has to be.” “What kind of human are you?” the hunter asked. “Doesn’t matter to you,” the young man replied. He got into a lower stance. “Not for long, at least.” “A fighter?” the hunter asked, surprised. “I thought there would only be one. Guess I was wrong.” “What?” the young man asked. “Doesn’t matter,” the hunter said, no doubt with a grin on his face. “Kid, go back now,” the young man ordered the colt. The colt ran off with his tail tucked behind him. The hunter pulled a knife. “Even if I can’t capture you, information will sell,” he said. “There’s one problem with trying to sell information,” the young man responded coldly. “What’s that?” the hunter asked, getting low to pounce. The young man’s face went completely neutral and emotionless. “You need to be able to communicate it.” The bounty hunter grinned an evil little grin and lunged forward, drawing his blade. The young man leapt to his right to avoid the coming blade. He knew the hunter wouldn’t kill him unless it was a truly hopeless fight, but the young man didn’t need any extra cuts on him. And the more he bled, the weaker he would grow, making it easier to take him. The hunter spun around as the young man rolled away and got back him, his curtain unraveling around him. It would only get in the way at this point, so he just tore it off of himself and decided to fight in the nude. While it meant being exposed, it meant he was less likely to get hit in the long run. The hunter blinked in surprise at the unexpected tactic, giving the young man time to adjust himself. His healing wound was blatantly clear and exploitable, but as long as he avoided being struck, he was fine. Recovering himself, the hunter leapt forward at the young man, bringing the flat of his blade down in a strike meant to knock the top of the young man’s head. The young man raised his arm up and blocked it after assuring himself the blade wasn’t going to chop his arm off, stopping the weapon in its tracks. He followed it up with an immediate straightforward kick to the hunter’s armored chest, but bounced off the steel plate. When his foot landed on the ground, slightly past the hunter’s forelegs, the young man rapped his right arm around the hunter’s long neck and brought his knee forward into the back of the hunter’s left foreleg, collapsing it at the knee and bringing both of them to the ground. The hunter rolled on top of the young man, prompting him to release the hunter, then rolled away, recovering himself and standing up. The young man wouldn’t give him more than a moment’s rest, though, as that meant a sure loss. He quickly rolled on his side in a barrel roll into a spinning roundhouse kick from the ground, connecting with the hunter’s snout. The pain of shoving his wound into the ground made him grit his teeth and hiss, but he had to push through it. While the hunter reeled back from the clean strike to his nose, the young man stood up and advanced on him, going for the blade. He was able to get his hand on the hilt, right next to the hunter’s hoof, and took it from being “his weapon” to “our weapon”. In any fight or situation where one party has a weapon, the first trick to successfully defending against it is to make “his weapon” into “our weapon”. By taking control of the enemy weapon, it evens the playing field, granting both sides a weapon to fight with, like two atoms sharing an electron. However the covalent bond between two warriors breaks; whoever ends up with more electrons, per se; can determine the fight in less than an instant. While the young man had made the blade into both their weapon, that didn’t make the next part, turning it into “my weapon”, much easier. He still had to combat the hunter and beat him off the blade. The hunter grew frantic, trying to swing the blade around to regain control, but the young man was having none of it. Both fighters had their hands and forelegs on the blade, and wrestled over it with all their might. The young man, however, had something the hunter didn’t; his legs, immediately available. The hunter’s hind legs were too far away to be useful to him. In one swift movement, the young man pushed forward with his legs and brought his knees to his chest, then blasted them forward with all his might into the base of the hunter’s neck, just above his armor plating. The strike hit home, and the hunter lost his grip on the blade. The force of the hunter’s pushing legs and the young man’s kick evened out, leaving him stationary in his spot, and sending the young man backwards to the ground. The young man lost his grip on the blade in the process, and it went flying backwards, spinning through the air and, with an unceremonious plunk, landed in the reservoir, away from where the ponies could retrieve it. As the young man hit the ground, he rolled backwards and stood back up, getting into a deep Seiunchin stance. The hunter coughed furiously after the kick to his neck, but recovered quick enough. When he looked at the human before him, he realized he couldn’t win this fight, especially not without his only weapon. He silently regretted not carrying more like other hunters did, but he prided himself too much on being quick in the chase. It wasn’t doing him any good now. “You’re good, human,” the hunter said. “And you suck,” the human replied coldly. “I can’t beat you,” the hunter admitted, stepping back. “I know,” the human said. “How about you let me go?” the hunter suggested. “You’ve won this fight.” “As much as I would love to, you said yourself how much information sells for,” the young man said. “What, you’ll kill me?” the hunter asked, partly sarcastic and partly fearful. “No,” the young man said. “Good for me!” the hunter shouted. He turned tail and bolted. The young man gave chase. He knew that the hunter would sell his information to the Tong thugs, and that would mean the death of the town. This was why he always hated mercenaries; anything for a dollar. Or whatever money they had here. When the hunter rapidly disappeared into the foliage, the young man gave instant chase after him, naked and determined. The brush was too dense to move through quickly, giving the young man a distinct advantage. Horses and the like were built for linear speed, not rapid agility. It took only moments before the young man could see the hunter up ahead. But the hunter could hear the young man coming up behind him and upped his pace as much as he could. He nearly tripped on roots every few steps, giving the young man a solid chance to catch him. Twice, he practically felt the creepy, finger-laden hand grabbing his tail behind him. After only a short time, the hunter had to stop; he came upon a steep ledge at the final edge of the trees, a ledge he had known was there. He didn’t keep track of where he was running to, though, and successfully cornered himself. He turned around on his tiny ledge and spotted the human right on him. “Now hang on,” the hunter said nervously. He felt the breeze just past his behind. “We can talk about this.” “No, I’m afraid we can’t,” the human said. “Specifically because I know you WILL talk about this.” The hunter stepped back a little and felt the rock behind him give, and he could hear it rolling down the mountain. The slope behind him was easily seventy degrees. Hardly a good surface to fall down. He didn’t think sliding was appropriate for this particular situation because he would probably disconnect from the mountainside several times on the way down. “What would you do?” the hunter asked. “Stop you from talking,” the young man said. “Bust up that jaw a little, that’s all.” “How would I eat?’ the hunter asked, trying to appeal to the young man’s good will. “You ever heard of a liquid diet?” the young man asked. The hunter shook his head. “Basically, blending your food together and drinking it through a straw.” “Not my idea of a good time,” the hunter said desperately. “Yeah, well, being sold like a truck doesn’t particularly appeal to me,” the young man retorted. “Then I guess we’re at an impasse,” the hunter said. He was formulating a plan. “Not really,” the young man replied. “This was set to happen either way.” The hunter figured that when the human lunged, he would just have to step out of the way and let him fall to his death. It would be easy; he just had to time it right. The human had no idea what the area was like, and probably figured it was all the same. But the young man wasn’t that stupid, nor was he blind. He could see the drop-off behind the hunter and knew he shouldn’t lunge. What he opted for, instead, was to grab a hanging branch next to his head, get a good vice grip on it, and swing his leg out in a sweeping roundhouse kick. The hunter hadn’t seen it coming and dodged right into the kick, creating a resounding crack from the strike against his head. It failed to hit his jaw, but the young man did see the hunter’s eyes roll back as he instantly lost consciousness from the concussive force of the kick. The hunter fell backwards, and the young man tried to jump forward to grab him, but made sure to hold onto the branch. Holding onto that branch sealed the hunter’s fate, it seemed, as the young man couldn’t go forward enough to grab him. The hunter fell backwards onto the slope and slid for a few feet before going into a wild, uncontrollable roll down the side of a mountain. The young man moved forward and watched him as he went tumbling down to his likely demise. He just stared down the side of that mountain for a while. He could barely register what had just happened. His experience told him that it was a horse that just fell down the canyon, and that was pretty sad. At the same time, his heart tried to tell him that he just killed what was basically a human being. The conflict raged inside him, with neither side initially gaining any ground. Ultimately, his experience won out, and he just blinked and turned away. Silently, he walked back to the town, where he would no doubt be forced to explain what had happened to all the townsponies, and probably get in some serious trouble for being responsible for the whole thing. Though he would probably leave out the fact that he just sent the bounty hunter rolling down a hundred-something foot canyon wall. It didn’t matter much anyway. There’s always another horse around.