• Published 12th Mar 2012
  • 1,510 Views, 40 Comments

Revenge - HeroeDeLaVida



After a soldier's life is destroyed, he vows revenge. But is revenge really what he needs?

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Cutie Mark Story

I grinned maliciously at my target, swing the axe in a large arc, slicing limbs and cutting deep into it’s center of mass. I ripped the blade from it’s remains, then swung again, sending what was left flying. Turning to my next target I swung again, slicing this one in half easily, it being much smaller than the others. I turned to another, this one much larger than most. I stepped forward, swinging with both arms, the blade sinking in deep, the target giving short yelp. Or maybe not, I might have imagined that. All in all, Most. Intense. Bush removal. Ever.

So, maybe I was over dramatizing it, but honestly cutting through thorn bushes with an axe (which was really more hatchet sized compared to me,) is a great stress reliever, but doesn’t make all that great reading material. I had managed to clear the bushes from the front of the house, and was halfway through the bushes behind the cottage. I wiped some sweat from my brow and looked around.. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were both trotting on the roof of the cottage with some wooden planks we had gotten from Sweet Apple Acres repairing the multiple holes in the roof. I was a little skeptical about them being the ones on the roof, but Apple Bloom insisted that she knew what she was doing.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo was running around the yard, carefully grabbing the remains of the thorn bushes and piling them out in front of the cottage. I turned and began to swing once again at mass of bushes. Chop. Chop. Chop. Clang. My entire arm rattled as the axe connected with something a little sturdier than bushes. Quickly, I checked the blade, hoping I didn’t damage it. Sure enough there was a small nick in the blade, which looked like it would take a lot a sharpening to get out.

“Aw, shi-” I started to say, then bit my tongue, remembering there were young fillies around, that really didn’t need to hear what ever creative profanity I could think of. It had taken a lot of convincing to get this axe from Applejack, who didn’t really want to trust that I was mentally stable enough to use such a tool. (Turns out Twilight had had a gossip session with her friends about me while I was playing in the forest with Luna and large lion-bat-scorpions.) Luckily, Apple Bloom was eager to help Sweetie Belle an me to get the axe, along with the boards, hammer, and nails they are currently using to fix up the roof.

Then there was also the mini heart-attack I gave Twilight as I walked past the library with all three Crusaders in tow. (We had found Scootaloo in on our way back from Sweet Apple Acres, who had been going to pick up Apple Bloom to do some ‘Crusading’) She had teleported in front of me and used her magic to snatch the axe from me. Honestly, why did everypony think I was going to go on a massive killing spree.

When we stopped to pick up my gloves from Rarity, I decided it would be best to leave the axe outside as I entered to claim my gloves. She was just putting the finishing touches on a sketch she made detailing an outfit she wanted to make me. It looked like a Tuxedo, but was missing some crucial details. Like pants. Those were definitely important. Of course, Rarity didn’t understand why, so I just said I would explain later when I wasn’t so pressed for time, then took my gloves and left.

The gloves were nothing special. Simple brown fabric, tough, durable, hopefully fireproof. They did the job though, not a single thorn had even scratched the material, thanks to them being expertly crafted. Really, it was almost like she had made them before.

“Hey Sol, what are you doing?” I turned around to see Scootaloo behind me, he tail and mane a mess of twigs and leaves.

“Nothing, just found something.” I said, turning my attention back to the objected that dented by axe. I swung my axe a few times, removing the few thorn bushes surrounding it. The offending object turned out to be a metal pole rising from the ground, topped by what looked like a fountain. I moved to it, setting down the axe and pulling on the metal handle. It was rusted, old, and refused to move. I tightened my grip and tried again, pulling with not just my arms, but my back and legs too. Scootaloo even came over and tried to help by pushing up on the handle with her front hooves, fluttering her wings a little with the effort. Why did these ponies have to be so adorable?

With a horrendous squeal, and a faint gurgling sound, the handle began to move. It moved slowly at first but then began to move faster with more ease. I gave it a few experimental pumps, and was delighted when a bit of water poured out the spout. I put my hand under the stream of water, catching a bit and bringing it to my mouth. It was cold and tasted a bit like iron, but not to bad.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked up at the hot sun above. Going from below freezing temperature to this was not fun, and my body had yet to adjust. Looking at the fountain, I was struck with inspiration. I pulled off my light brown t-shirt, which had noticeably more rips in it, not to mention the raking cuts from the Manticore’s claws. I bundled my shirt into a ball and began to pump water from the fountain onto it.

Turning around I saw three pairs of eyes staring at me, tracing the multiple scars that laced my entire torso, including those under the bandages that Fluttershy had wrapped around my chest to help set me ribs and keep the claw cuts clean. I gave the three fillies a sad smile as I wringed out my shirt and put it back on, thankful for the cooling relief it gave me.

“Wh- What happened to you?” Scootaloo stammered.

“War did.” I sighed. “I was at the tip of the spear for far to long, and my body has the proof to show it.”

“Did all that hurt a lot?” Apple Bloom asked, but from how she blushed I guess she found it to be a stupid question.

Regardless I answered. “Yes and no. It all hurt, some more than others. Like here,” I said, pulling up my shirt and pointing short scar along my side, “I was charged with a bayonet. It only hurt a little. But then there was another time where I had my eye gorged out with a spoon. That hurt a lot. It would of healed faster if I could have recovered it, but the bastard ate it.” I shuddered, and the three Crusaders looked visibly sick. “Lucky me, some smart British stem cell scientists were able to regrow it, but I had to put up with a few months of ghost pains.”

Apple Bloom recovered enough to ask “What are ghost pains?”

“Well, basically, it’s when you lose a body part, but your mind is still telling you that it’s there and hurting.” I said. Or at least, that’s how it was explained to me when.

I looked up to Sweetie Belle, who was sitting next to Apple Bloom on the roof, looking very confused.

“Something bothering you Sweetie?” I asked.

“Well, it’s just… I thought you said humans don’t have cutie marks?” She said, a genuine confused face showing through.

“They don’t.” I answered, not sure where this was going.

“Then why do you have one on your back?”

My confusion turned to sad understanding. I didn’t even have to look to know what she was talking about. On my left shoulder blade was a tattoo of an angel holding a smaller angel as they ascended upwards. “Well, that’s a rather sad story.” I looked up again to the sun, as it say high in the sky. Then my stomach growled. I once again looked to the fillies and smiled. “Tell ya what. I haven’t eaten in like, three days, so how about we go into Ponyville and see if I can use my infinite charisma to rustles us up something to eat, and on our way, I’ll tell you about how I got my ‘cutie mark,’ okay?” The three fillies all smiled and nodded, so I walked to the edge of what was now going to be my house and helped Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle of the roof, and we started our way to Ponyville.

After putting up with the expectant looks from the Crusaders for about five minuets, I sighed and began. “Once upon a time, I had two very close friends. They were the only family I had left, and I had grown very attached to there company. They had helped me when I went through a very hard time in my life. They were always there for me, when I was hurt, or mad, or broken, they were always there to fix me. To help me when I felt like I wasn’t enough.”

I glanced at the three fillies that walked next to me, all staring with the same intensity. I sighed and continued. “One day, I had to go away for some work related business. While I was gone, some bad men came and captured them, along with thousands of other people who lived around us. I was furious that such a thing could happen, so I did what I always did. I dove head first into the danger to try and save them. I fought long and hard, injured multiple times, but none stopped me. I kept pushing forward, but when it all came down to it, I failed.”

They Crusaders looked at me with varying degrees of sadness. I talked on. “I failed. I saved thousands, but I wasn’t able to save the two I cared about. When they died, part of me died with them. It wasn’t, and if I could, I would have traded places with them in a heartbeat. But when it all came down to it, they died because I wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough.”

I stared out at Ponyville as it got closer and closer. I could have sworn I heard a sniff off to my left. “So I had that tattoo put on my shoulder, to remind me everyday to be stronger, to be faster, and to be smarter.” I gave a sad sigh. “I was called a hero after that day. Single-handedly saving thousands, but I didn’t feel like one. I just felt like a failure.”

Apple Bloom looked up to me with a mix of sadness and horror. “But… but you are a hero! You saved all those ponies- err… people. How could you not think of yourself as one?”

I gave a small shrug. “Because I’m alive.”

“What do you mean, ‘because your alive?” Scootaloo chimed in. “Why wouldn’t you be a hero because your alive?”

“Because I’m alive, while others died. Battle after battle, friend and foe alike died around me, and I lived on. It’s almost cruel.”

Scootaloo shook her head. “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t that make you a hero?”

“I guess I don’t know how to explain it. I was guilty. What was so special about me that I got to live and others died.” I looked up and saw we were entering Ponyville. “But enough of that, let’s find someplace to eat.”

Slowly the fillies nodded there heads, trying to process all that I had told them. Looking around, I noticed we had a real problem. I didn’t have any money. “Well girls, I don’t have any money, so unless the currency in this world is hugs, there’s only one thing to do.”

“Become street performers?”

“Sell apples?”

“Ask Rarity?”

I gave the fillies before me skeptical looks, before saying, “I was just going to beg Twilight.” I said as I shrugged, turned towards the library and started walking.



*A/N: I want to apologize right now for the short chapter, I've been a little pressed for time. Once again, thank you for reading, comment, (I read them all) ect. ect.*