Fools and Drunks

by Jordan179

Chapter 36: All For One and One For All

Grey Hoof loomed over the unconscious Zecora, about to inflict upon hef some dreadful fate.

This incipient event made up Apple Bloom's mind for her. She took one last regretful look at the rope she had meant to climb to safety. "See y'all," she she said softly, with a half-sob, to her companions.

Then, with a shout of "Yee-haw!," she charged full-tilt at Grey Hoof.

Snips and Glittershell looked at each other for a moment in utter horror. Then they both looked at Ermine, still riding Glittershell.

"Ah'm game," said the young moonshiner.

Snips and Glittershell nodded.

Screaming like lunatics, they joined the charge.

Descending to the ground, Grey Hoof threw himself at full gallop into his own charge, at Apple Bloom. The young Apple mare tried to evade, but his onrush was too rapid and irresistible. The Master-Wraith's zone of darkness swept across her, sending her reeling; a great hoof casually lashed out and knocked her down.

Apple Bloom fell -- and lay there, feebly twitching.

"Bloomie!" cried Snips, and made full-tilt for the fallen Apple.

Grey Hoof laughed, and swerved toward Snips.

Glittershell increased her own pace, attempting to interpose herself between the Master Wraith and her best friend. She did this without any consideration of odds or tactics beyond Protect Snips! it did not occur to her, until it was too late, that she might be biting off much more than she could chew.

Her action succeeded, only in that the Master-Wraith, faced with multiple foes, did not focus much attention on the stocky little blue stallion. A casual hoof-cuff, delivered in passing, bowled Snips over, rolling to lie sprawled on his back in an undignified fashion, shaking his head; clearly dazed.

I'll save you, Snipsy! thought Glittershell, setting her jaw in determination.

Then, Grey Hoof was upon Glittershell.

It was not like confronting a mortal Pony, nor a thrall, nor even a normal Wraith. A zone of cold darkness flared out from Grey Hoof's mane, like the swirl of a cloak, engulfing Glittershell, intangible and yet horribly real. Within it was the ultimate blackness of a moonless, starless night, and a chill by far colder than the worst winter storm Glittershell had ever known; painful beyond bearing. When she gasped in shock, it felt like knives cutting into her lungs.

There was a confused sudden motion as Ermine, with what must have been the last of her strength, launched herself right off Glittershell's back at the Master-Wraith. Her weapon flashed out, its blue-glowing blade questing for the unlife of her foe.

With one decisive sweep of a foreleg, Grey Hoof simply swatted her out of the air and to the side. The young moonshiner fell, and lay inert.

Then Glittershell could see no more, for she was completely engulfed in the Master-Wraith's cloak of darkness. It was all around her, it was all that there was. She drowned in the cold and the dark, and as she drowned she seem to fall further still into the shadow that enveloped her. Despair crushed her, seeming like a solid thing, like a great weight of entombing earth. She had no light, no warmth, no future.

There is no light, no warmth, no life, hissed a hateful voice. There is but dark and cold unending; undeath unending: the ultimate fate of all life, all universes. You will die; your worlds will die; all your suns gutter out, their corpses falling together to form singularities which shall slowly sublime away in the cold dark.

Glittershell didn't grasp half of what the cold voice was saying: it seemed to be some sort of science-ey stuff, but not the fun sort of science that Twilight Sparkle or Cheerilee tried -- and mostly failed -- to explain to her. Rather it seems like some sort of cold dark terrible science, to match the nature of the voice trying to explain it. It sounded like some sort of science that if she grasped too fully might drive her mad forever, so Glittershell was for once glad of her own intellectual incapacity.

Yet she felt it necessary to make some reply.

"That's just -- giving up!" she said. "Being hopeless. But there is hope. There's always hope!"

Dry, cold laughter echoed in response.

Fool, the voice said. Cold and dark and death are but the inevitable outcome of entropy. The end cannot be avoided. This is written in the Laws of Physics. Even the puerile afterlives warded by your weak gods are not immune to this rule. They too, will run out of energy, and cease.

"No ..." said Glittershell, though she feared that the whispers in the darkness made a dreadful sort of sense. "I'm alive ... the world is alive ... there's still hope ..."

More cold laughter.

Yours is the hope of a fool, stemming from ignorance. We Shadows have seen more worlds die than your world has sapients. All worlds die. Your world will prove no exception to this rule.

Glittershell squeezed her eyes and folded up her ears tight shut against these terrible truths, but it did her no good. Both the darkness and the voice were already in her mind.

One cannot avert the end the voice continued. One can merely delay it. And to delay it, for as long as one can, is the rational purpose of all that thinks.

Glittershell of course wondered how one might be able to delay it, but she did not ask the question aloud. She did not trust the hateful voice, nor what answers it might make unto her.

It did not seem to matter. The voice answered her question just as if she had spoken them.

One conquers and consumes others; steals their warmth, their light, their life. Other beings; other worlds; other Universes. The weak perish; the strong survive a bit longer. One hunts ceaselessly for new prey, that one may live on ...

Glittershell was horrified. I could never ...

Of course you could not, the voice said scornfully. You are weak. You are doomed. Unless ...

Unless? Glittershell wondered. Unless what?

Unless you submit willingly to a powerful being, like myself, and become its favored thrall. If you serve diligently, you may be protected as a useful tool. It is your only chance for long-term survival.

What the hateful voice was saying sounded sensible. Certainly, Glittershell -- never an adept logician at the best of times, and currently exhausted and demoralized by her long fight -- could find no error in the voice's argument.

Yet something within her told her that the voice was wrong. She could not help but dispute it.

I'll lose my life, she protested.

Life is futile, the voice told her. All must perish.

Images of Apple Bloom and Ermine Lightning flashed before her eyes. I'll fail my friends.

Friendship is a lie. All there can be is submission -- and domination.

She saw a dear blue-coated, orange-tufted face. I'll fail my love.

Love is weakness. Strength comes from hate.

All these things sounded true, when the voice spoke them. Glittershell found herself sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness. The cold was seeping into her soul. Slowly, inexorably, she was losing her very self ...

Save for one last warm place within her; a calm, still place, from which a voice that was her inmost self -- not very smart, but very, very stubborn, said one simple word.

NO.

Glittershell felt this small core of herself grow, expanding in some manner she had no terms to describe. It grew a sort of surface, a cuticle like the rim of one of her hooves, that wrapped itself around her soul, enveloping it in a protective membrane and expelling the malign cold. As it did so, this tegument glowed with thousands of twinkling points of light, a light that pierced and drove back the darkness, as a song of hope swelled in her heart.

Abruptly, Glittershell was back in the real world. Or, at least, what passed for it in Sunney Towne.

This was not an improvement, as her first sensation was of a hard-driven hoof slamming into her right shoulder, knocking her over on her left side.

Grey Hoof stood over her, glaring down.

"So," he said, and his voice was terrible to hear, for though it sounded like Grey Hoof the Earth Pony, Glittershell could plainly make out the undertones of the hatefully-hissing thing that had tried to subvert her soul. "I see that thou canst, by some device, resist the compulsion even of a full Shadow. Thou'rt a most uncommon Pony, and far from the only one that hails from where once was Riverbridge. I expect that the Avatar of Fusion, who does queen it over the thy pathetic race, has had her hoof in this."

Glittershell had absolutely no idea what Grey Hoof was talking about, other than that he had tried to do something to her, but it hadn't worked. That, and she recognized 'Riverbridge.' It had been the name one of those olden-time towns in Ruby's tale, one which had been built around what was now South Ponyville.

She didn't understand what any of these things had to do with each other.

"It matters naught," Grey Hoof decided. "When I have slain thee, thou shalt obey me, as mine own thrall."

He took a step toward Glittershell.

She try to struggle to her Hooves, but her limbs had no strength. She looked at Ermine, who did not even seem to be conscious. There would be no more help from that quarter.

Snips staggered forward, to stand shakily between Glittershell and Grey Hoof. He was trembling -- whether from weakness or from fear -- but still he stood his ground.

"Y-y-you leave my pal alone!"

Grey Hoof gazed down at the stocky blue stallion.

"And what," he asked slowly, "if I do not?"

Snips gulped; took a step backward; bumped into the prone Glittershell. He glanced down at her, and seemed to gain determination. He stood straighter and firmer, and looked back up at Grey Hoof.

"I won't let you -- hurt him!" Snips declared.

Grey Hoof grinned: a cruel sneer, made all the worse by the charred skull-face of his Death Aspect.

"Oh," he said. "Thou'rt so brave, little stallion. So set on protecting thy friend from me. He leaned forward and down slightly, looking Snips directly in the eye, the horror that was his head mere inches from Snips' own visage. "And the true jest of this is that thou dost risk thyself alone for pure love of thy friend. Thou dost not even ken what --" here, the Master-Wraith chuckled "-- 'he' in truth be."

He raised his head to grin at Glittershell. "Thou must so joy in this. Between ye twain be the true magic of friendship -- I can smell it boiling from ye both as a cloying stench." He gagged in revulsion, then grinned even more broadly. "Dost thou joy, knowing that to him thou art truly his best pal, his play-mate, his fellow stallion?"

Grey Hoof's words pierced Glittershell's hide like the longest, sharpest thorns she could imagine; penetrated right to her heart. She felt all the pain of being wrong, being taken for what she seemed to be rather than what she knew herself to be within. She felt the hopeless despair of knowing that nopony would be likely to see her as a mare, when all the evidence of her developing body so signaled, both in sight and scent, that she was a stallion.

Most of all, she remembered Snips' words last night, which had briefly roused an unfamiliar hope in her heart -- and then dashed it. The worst of it was that she could not fairly blame him; he had no idea she was a mare. How could he? She'd never told him.

Especially did she remember that one tender kiss she had placed on his lips -- which might have been her first real kiss, had he not been too drunk to know it. One could not have a meaningful first kiss if the other party did not even know it had happened. Many of the complexities of equine relationships eluded Glittershell, but she was pretty sure that Sweetie Belle or Miss Rarity would so judge the issue, if she ever lived to ask them.

Which, of course, she now would probably never get to do.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," said Snips defiantly. "What I I know is that if you want Snails, you've gotta go through me." He stood his ground, awaiting the attack of the Master-Wraith.

Glittershell thought this to be one of the bravest things she had ever seen: perhaps all the more so for it's obvious doomed futility. He doesn't have a chance. He's being a fool -- for me. Someow that made it all sadly, strangely beautiful, like one of the old Pegasus sagas about love and sacrifice she'd heard from Scootaloo.

Those old stories mostly ended in death.

She supposed theirs would too -- and very soon.

Grey Hoof laughed.

"Whelp," he said calmly -- almost kindly. "I have just bested a Mistress of Harmony; one who studied and trained all her life to fight such as me. The only reason thou canst even touch me be her dweomercraft. Dost thou in truth believe that thou hast any chance against me?

Snips cringed. His ears drooped. He shifted on his hooves, perhaps preparing to bolt.

Before the fell might of the Master-Wraith, Snips seemed very small.

"Go," said Grey Hoof. His voice was now most definitely kindly, the voice of a wise uncle, who had only one's own best interests at heart. "The rope remains. Climb it; leave Sunney Towne; resume thy life. She -- thy friend -- be lost. Choose life, for thine own self. Go -- and give up thy friend, who be already lost. Go!"

Snips flinched at that last, sharp command. He trembled, and Glittershell knew that in the next instant Snips would flee; climb the rope which she herself now lacked the strength to scale, and ascend to freedom -- leaving Glittershell to her dreadful fate.

Glittershell could scarcely blame him. For it was a dreadful fate they faced; a hideous undead enslavement to far more hideous undead monsters. Who would not flee such a future for a chance at life? No, Glittershell could not fairly blame her friend ...

"No," said Snips.

Grey Hoof blinked.

"No matter what you're gonna do to me," continued the stocky blue stallion, swallowing hard, perhaps as he contemplated the possibilities. "I won't bail on my best pal."

Joy suffused Glittershell, as she realized just how much -- and how unselfishly -- Snips loved her.

A moment later her heart sank in dismay, as she realized what would be the very likely consequence to Snips for his courageous act of defiance.

Grey Hoof looked genuinely disappointed.

"So be it," he said, and in so saying swept out with his right hoof. It was a seemingly casual motion, and well short of actually touching Snips, but billows of some dark force emanated from the gesture, as if the Master-Wraith and Snips had both been standing under water, and these waves bowled the smaller stallion right over. Glittershell heard a surprised oof! from her best friend, as all the air in his lungs was forced out of him by the impact, and then Snips was sent rolling over and over by the force of the intangible but no less very real blow.

Snips stopped rolling, and simply lay there, still save for the heaving of his sides as he desperately drew air into his labored lungs.

He was out of the fight. They were all out of the fight.

Grey Hoof alone stood -- and stood triumphant.

"Braver than I expected," he said, as if to himself, looking down at the fallen Snips. "Still, it availed him naught. He was but a stripling. He had no real chance against me."

He looked up, his dark witchlights searing into the eyes of Glittershell.

"None do," he said softly, "against the Shadows. Least of all two foals such as thyselves. Not even a doughty fighter like Bravesword." His features began shifting into that of the paternal party Pony, but he did not look at all happy. "Not even my most beloved daughter. Not even mine own --"

What Grey Hoof would have said, Glittershell would never know.

For that moment there was an explosion from the other end of the square.

It was a flash of golden light, from which issued a shower of incandescent red sparks, scattered in all directions, and a great ball of glowing golden light streaking straight toward Grey Hoof and Glittershell. The red sparks were faster, and one of them crashed into the hard-packed earthen surface of the town square but a body-length or two from Glittershell's head, enabling her to see it clearly.

It was a broken link of thick chain.

Glittershell struggled to remember where she had seen such a chain before.

Then she remembered, and looked up at the glowing golden ball of light.

As it neared its features rapidly resolved themselves into a golden-eyed, two-toned yellow-and-orange maned, grey-coated ghost girl, surrounded by a brilliant aura of golden light, the exact same shade as her eyes. She was galloping rapidly through the empty air, faster than Glittershell had ever seen any of the Wraiths move, arcing right over the clutter of the battlefield toward them.

Her identity, of course, was unmistakable.

"Though my most-beloved daughter will not cease her useless attempts at it," commented Grey Hoof, sighing wearily.

The golden-eyed ghost girl landed right between Grey Hoof and Glittefshell, coming to a rest on all four hooves.

"I hope thou'rt but here to join the festival," said Grey Hoof.

"Thou dost ken why I have come here." Her gaze swpt across all five living equines, then fixed levelly on the Master-Wraith. "Release thy mortal prey, else I must stand thy foe ..." She paused a moment.

"... Father," added Ruby Gift.

Author's Note:

The chapter title, of course, comes from Alexander Dumas' The Three Musketeers, by way of Blackmore's Night.

---

Apple Bloom loves Zecora as her mentor, rather as Twilight Sparkle does Celestia. And Snips, Snails and Ermie are, all three of them, brave and honorable to a fault.

Thus, their nigh-suicidal forlorn charge against Grey Hoof.

Appropriate music:

https://m.

---

Well, we all knew who it was.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Strength of will alloyed with dullness of wit. I've heard worse ways to resist the allure of darkness.

Ruby may find a way to win, or at least a way to stall enough for further reinforcements, or for the others to recover enough to make a difference. Hard to say for certain, but I do see several routes to survival.

(That said, I admit that for a moment, I thought it might be Sunset Shimmer out of nowhere for the save. There are only so many magical color schemes. )

[The Wind King]

Apple Bloom fell -- and lay there, feebly twitchin.

1) - Twitching (Missing a g)

"So," he said, and his voice was terrible to hear, for though it sounded like Grey Hoof the Earth Pony, Glittershell could plainly make out the undertones of the hatefully-hissing thing that had tried to subvert her soul. "I see that thou canst, by some device, resist the compulsion even of a full Shadow. Thou'rt a most uncommon Pony, and far from the only one that hails from where once was Riverbridge. I expect that the Avatar of Fusion, who does queen it over the thy pathetic race, has had her hoof in this."

2) - thy pathetic (shouldn't have a "the" here)

"Whelp," he said calmly -- almost kindly. "I have just bested a Mistress of Harmony; one who studied and trained all her life to fight such as me. The only reason thou canst even touchmus be her dweomercraft. Dost thou in truth believe that thou hast any chance against me?
Snips cringed. His ears drooped. He shifted on his hooves, perhaps preparing to bolt.

3) - Touch us (This is either this or "Touch us must be her", but it still needs fixed)

4 - Odd paragraph break here, needs fixed.

"Go," said Grey Hoof. His voice was now most definitely kindly, the voice of a wise uncle, who had only one's own best interests at heart. "The rope remains. Climb it; leave Sunney Towne; resume thy life. She -- thy friend -- be lost. Choose life, for thine own self. Go -- and give up thy frien, who be already lost. Go!"

5) - friend (missing the "d" here)

_______________________________________________________________________________

I dislike this shade, and I dislike Grey Hoof, they both gave up fighting for something better, and chose something worse. I can't wait to see them get their flanks handed to them.

[Alex Warlorn]

1505.

So this takes place during season 5 or season 6?