Fallout Equestria: The Light Within

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 54: Answers

Chapter Fifty-Four: Answers

I ran.

I ran through Sat-Con, not quite sure where I was going, until I reached the other entrance to the facility. I wanted to believe that it was coincidence, but the thought wouldn’t leave me that maybe I’d remembered the layout of Sat-Con. The leaders of the Northern Lights Coalition had seemed to have no inclination to harm us, so I didn’t know why I ran. Except that I really did know, I just didn’t want to admit it. I was afraid, afraid that what I’d seen was the truth.

Rare Sparks and Zherana, of course, wanted to know what had happened (Rare most of all). I’d fled in our moment of triumph and they’d followed me, not knowing what else to do. The last thing I wanted after what I’d seen was ponies following me, but what could I say? I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t admit that I was the pony we’d been hunting. I’d pinned so much evil on Lord Lamplight that I couldn’t believe that he was me. I couldn’t.

I had to confess what I’d seen eventually, though. At Rare’s insistence, I told her everything over our suit radios while the windigo-perpetuated blizzard raged around us after putting some distance between us and Sat-Con. She seemed nearly as shocked as I was and went silent for quite some time. That was okay. I needed to think.

In retrospect, being alone with my thoughts was not the best thing for me at that time, but in the moment, it seemed what I’d needed, despite their dark tendencies. When I wasn’t trying to grasp it, I tried to find excuses. Surely Clear Rivers had been lying, and the plan he’d spoken of was a plan to trick me, the Wasteland Doctor (not Lord Lamplight), who’d done so much damage to the NLC. The real Lord Lamplight could still be out there, and upon learning my description had faked that last memory orb to confuse me. But there were so many things that pointed in the opposite direction. If only I could be sure.

When I wasn’t denying Clear Rivers’ words and what I’d seen in that memory orb, I was trying to reconcile it. Was Lord Lamplight really a villain? It was a selfish question, since if I answered positively then it would save me, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about it. My recent efforts to join settlements in the Wasteland together suddenly seemed an awful lot like what Lord Lamplight had tried, at least at the start. With the question of whether or not Lord Lamplight was a villain came the question of if I was a villain. I’d always tried to kill only those who were deserving—raiders, slavers, and similar scum—but in doing, so I’d killed hundreds if not thousands. What was more villainous than that?

As much as I thought about these things, I didn’t want to talk about them, something that Rare and Zherana picked up on. Even after we passed beyond the windigo fence, back into territory where the pegasi controlled the weather, and reclaimed the Clinic, I sought isolation. When I wasn’t in my cot, I took more than my share of turns at the wheel. The Wasteland rolled by, empty and barren. Getting farther from Sat-Con felt like leaving a bad dream behind, but I still felt like I’d just awoken from that nightmare. We passed the Crystal Empire and it all got worse again, as I realized that if I were Lord Lamplight, then Roaring Thunder had died for nothing. The dragon we’d been traveling north to slay had been one for which he’d sacrificed himself.

We were between Northern Cross and Stalliongrad, pushing on as fast as I could get the Clinic to move, when Zherana crawled up into the cabin with me. At first, she simply stared ahead, as she tended to do. Rare Sparks had told her what I’d shared, I was sure, yet she’d said nothing to me about it. Since we’d passed the Crystal Empire, Rare had tried to talk to me, tried to comfort me; I couldn’t fault her for that, but even two weeks after I’d learned what I had, I still wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“So, you are Lord Lamplight,” Zherana said without looking away from the windshield, no more emotion in her voice than if she were talking about the price of Sparkle~Cola in Burnside.

I was completely taken aback by how direct she was. It really shouldn’t have surprised me, given how Zherana usually was, but it was still a shock. Why had she said it like that? Did she intend to kill me? She probably could do so easily, though I felt that even had she wanted to, her oath to me would prevent her from doing so.

“Maybe. I don’t know what to believe,” I answered.

“You will have to live with what you have done,” Zherana said, just as emotionless as before.

“This is some pep talk,” I said sarcastically. The only thing she’d succeeded at so far was making me feel worse than I already did.

“It is not meant to be. It is the truth,” Zherana said, finally turning her head to face me, “You and I must both bear the weight of things we have done in the past.”

“You mean the things you did for Hedge?” I asked, imagining some of the unsavory activities that ghoul may have involved her in.

“I bear some guilt for them, but I was under oath to Hedge, so he bears the weight as well,” Zherana replied.

“And now you’re under oath to me. So, anything you do falls on me as well. Perfect,” I bemoaned.

“Yes, but that is not what I came up here to tell you,” Zherana said, and though her voice was neither louder nor softer than usual, I could sense the seriousness in it, “Do you know how Vanhoover was destroyed?”

“That’s easy. A megaspell,” I answered, “The one that nearly took out Burnside.”

“And do you know how that megaspell was delivered?” the zebra ghoul asked.

“Well, if it was anything like the one in the … Republic of Rose,” I said, my voice catching as I thought about how the NLC—and by extension, Lord Lamplight—had been behind the Republic of Rose’s destruction, “Then it was carried by griffins.”

“It was,” Zherana said, “But dropping a megaspell on a target from a height where you won’t be shot down by pegasi is nearly impossible without someone to guide you in. That is what I did, my fellow agents and I. Yes, I am responsible for the destruction of Vanhoover.”

“Why?” I asked, disbelievingly.

“That is something I have done, something I must bear the weight of, but something that will not decide my future,” Zherana said, “You have a choice. Not whether or not you will bear the weight of Lord Lamplight’s sins, but whether you will allow them to decide your future.”

“You … regret helping drop the megaspells on Vanhoover?” I asked, and Zherana nodded, “Is that why you’re under oath to others, so that you are not responsible for any other mistakes?”

“Perhaps that is part of it,” Zherana said, though she wasn’t dodging the question; she truly seemed not to know herself, “My oath to Hedge was given for other reasons, though.”

“And those are?” I asked.

“I think I have told you enough of my past for today,” Zherana said, “So, how will you handle your own past?”

“I need to know if it really is my past first,” I said as I stared ahead, though something inside wanted to tell me that I already knew, “There is one place that can tell me the truth.”

***

“Overmare Fairy Floss! Let me in!” I yelled at Stable 85’s door.

This was where it’d all began, the first place I remembered; I wouldn’t count those memory orbs of Lamplight, not until I confirmed they were my memories. I could get answers here, from ponies that had nothing to do with the Northern Lights Coalition or Lord Lamplight. That didn’t make them any more pleasant, though. The last time I’d seen them (if you didn’t count the hallucination where they were trying to kill me), they were trying to kill me. Unless some miracle had occurred, the Pinks were now the only faction left in Stable 85. But that didn’t matter to me right now. What did matter was that my medical records were in this Stable, and they would tell me if I’d once been Lord Lamplight.

“This is Doc!” I added, voice booming through my power armor’s external speakers, “We didn’t part on the best of terms, but I’m not here to hurt you! I just want to talk! Let me in or I’ll find my own way in, and you’ll regret that!”

Rare Sparks looked askance at me at the threat. Perhaps she was wondering if I truly was Lord Lamplight and had all the same capacity as him for cruelty and ruthlessness. It was a question I’d asked myself many times. It was a major pain examining every action you’d taken for hidden motives. It was hard to tell exactly what Rare was thinking, though, since she was wearing her Steel Ranger helmet. It was an oddity, but I’d insisted. I wasn’t going to lose her just because one of Stable 85’s security officers got lucky and shot her in the head.

“What do you want?” Fairy Floss’s voice emanated from the speakers next to the door after a long length of silence.

“I want to talk to you,” I said.

“We’re talking now,” the Overmare replied.

“Inside,” I reiterated, “Let me in, and then we’ll discuss why I’ve come here.”

There was no response from the Overmare, but the door didn’t open either. After giving her several seconds to make up her mind, I strode over toward the Stable door’s external controls. They wouldn’t work once the Stable was sealed without confirmation from the inside, but I could still make use of them. Shining Armor’s power armor, in addition to being made with a PipBuck in mind, had also been designed to allow the PipBuck’s ports to be used. I levitated a cable out of my saddlebags and jacked into Stable 85’s network. I was well on my way to obtaining control of the Stable door when the speakers crackled.

“Okay! Okay!” Fairy Floss said with a panicked voice, “I’m opening the doors!”

The giant gear slid back into the Stable and rolled to the side. Not surprisingly, there were Stable 85 security forces waiting on the other side. Barricades were still being dragged into place and wouldn’t be of much help in their current locations. Everypony looked worried, and for good reason. If we’d wanted to, the three of us could probably clear out half the Stable before they took us all down. I really hoped that nopony got too jumpy and decided to attack, because despite what they’d done, I really didn’t want to kill or even hurt any of these ponies.

The crowd of guards parted way for us, though they continued to ogle. It was understandable, given that they’d spent their entire lives in this Stable and had never seen Steel Ranger armor or a ghoul before. I’d been the same as them in that respect not that terribly long ago, though my entire life at that point had only consisted of a few weeks. How things had changed for me in the intervening time between my escape and return.

“Everypony stay calm!” I said, then turned the volume down on my armor’s external speakers when ponies winced at the noise.

“What do you want?” Overmare Fairy Floss asked through the Stable’s PA system.

So, she wasn’t going to see me face-to-face. That was okay with me. I was already within the Stable.

“I need to see your medical records,” I said, “I’m going to the clinic now. Nopony try to stop me.”

I still mostly remembered the layout of the Stable, though I’d only been up to the entryway once or twice by the public hallways. Whenever I forgot, my PipBuck’s map, projected on my vision by my armor, helped me find my way. The Stable’s residents stayed out of our way most of the time, except during the jaunt through the atrium where they were packed on the higher levels, straining for a look at the interlopers. When I entered what had once been the Yellow part of the Stable, I nearly missed a step. There were no distinguishing signs anymore, the lines on the walls changed from yellow to pink. Any damage that had occurred during the massacre of the Yellows had been repaired or wiped away long ago, and now it looked just like another part of the Stable.

As I entered the clinic, the resident doctor scurried quickly away into her adjoining living quarters and closed the door. She was only a filly, the one who’d gotten her cutie-mark in medicine which had kicked off the purging of all Yellows. I couldn’t place the blame on her, though. She was just a foal who happened to have been born to Pinks and gotten a cutie-mark that changed everything. I had no need of her, anyway, as everything I wanted was on the Stable doctor’s terminal.

Pushing the chair away from the desk, I stood and hacked in easily. Records on every time a pony had been admitted to the clinic since the Stable had first closed were here, and I scrolled back six months until I found my own case. At first, I was too nervous to read Charity’s observations, but I forced myself to.

Things she’d surely told me had seemed unimportant then, but now they were ominous, as were doubly the things she hadn’t told me. All the hair follicles on my body had been magically altered (except for a few on my head) in a procedure that had the potential to permanently change the color of my coat and mane, all except for that stripe in my mane that matched Lord Lamplight’s. My bone structure had been surgically altered, and my musculature likewise altered to fit this new form. Unidentifiable magic surrounded my cutie-mark, like nothing ever recorded, but Charity had hypothesized that my stethoscope cutie-mark might be only a mask for my true cutie-mark. She’d never mentioned this to me, but I could’ve picked it up from all the questions she asked me about it.

It was all true, or was at the very least highly probable. I was Lord Lamplight. I’d been born in Stable 83, whose population had been slaughtered by Steel Rangers, and I alone had survived thanks to the mercy of Manticore’s Fury. I’d grown up in the Wasteland and become a caravan guard, once more the only survivor as a raider attack slaughtered the caravan while townsponies just watched and waited to loot the caravan afterwards. I’d gone to the Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad, been sent to The Stacks, started a rebellion, and been banished from the PRS forever. I’d forged an alliance between settlements in Frostpoint that had fallen apart. I’d traveled to the Ruins of the Old World and founded the Northern Lights Coalition as an alliance of settlements, slavers, and raiders, and watched it grow from Sat-Con. I’d … I’d had all my memories extracted and my appearance changed and been left outside the very Stable I was now standing in. I was Lord Lamplight.

“It’s true,” I said as I sat heavily on the floor, “It’s all true. I’m Lord Lamplight.”

***

A soft knock sounded on the door.

“Mind if I come in?” Sage’s voice came from the other side.

“No,” I responded lifelessly.

After Stable 85, my companions and I had traveled to The Strip. If I’d been closed in on myself before, I was even more so now. For weeks, I’d known that Lord Lamplight and I were the same pony, ever since Clear Rivers had showed me that memory orb or shortly thereafter, but somehow finding concrete evidence of it made it more real. What was I supposed to do now? How could I go on? Every action I took, every decision I made would be dogged by the doubt that I was doing it because of some plan my previous self had concocted. What seemed like ages ago, when I’d still thought finding out who I’d been would make me happier, Rare had told me that it was more important who’d I’d become than who I’d once been. Was that true?

How different was I from Lord Lamplight, really? His Stable had been slaughtered and only he’d survived. The Yellows were slaughtered and only I’d survived. He’d seen the cruelty that settlements claiming civilization were capable of, and so had I. He’d displeased the Chairmare of the PRS, been sent to The Stacks, and led a rebellion, so had I. He’d started an alliance between settlements, which was exactly what I was currently involved in. Was I just reliving the same things, becoming the same pony for a second time? Maybe I was becoming Lord Lamplight again, I just wasn’t there quite yet.

Sage entered the room, looking concerned. Surely, she knew the truth—somepony had to have told her; otherwise, I’d have to break the news to her, and I didn’t think I could bear to do that. Still, she had to know. If she did know, then what did she think of me now? Surely, she couldn’t think of me in the same way now that she knew I was Lord Lamplight.

I’d longed to hear her voice again, not just her speaking. I’d heard her words on the way back, spoken by DJ Pon3 on Radio Free Wasteland. None of the news she’d brought had been good. The Northern Lights Coalition had increased their activity, and after hearing about attack after attack, I’d eventually tuned out the radio. It had been that way ever since the visit to Sat-Con, as if my (re)appearance there had triggered something, which it probably had. The NLC, created by me and under attack by me. Did they expect me to share secrets about the settlements I was now friendly with? Had that been my plan all along?

“Everypony is worried about you,” Sage said as she trotted across the room, careful not to slip on the memory orbs I’d scattered across the floor. My memories. Memories I didn’t want to claim.

“I would be too, if I was them,” I said as Sage sat down at the end of my bed, “An enemy in their midst.”

“No, they are worried about you,” Sage said. No surprised reaction or questions. So, she has heard the news.

I wanted to curl up in on myself and disappear from existence. I wanted to go back in time to before I’d gone to Sat-Con and never learn these terrible truths. I wanted to be alone, so I could hurt nopony else. But … I also feared that. I would destroy others if let loose, but I’d destroy myself if left alone. I didn’t want either. I didn’t want to live in ignorance. I didn’t want to vanish. I certainly didn’t want Sage to leave me. However much I ached for solitude, there was another ache alongside it for company, companionship, and closeness with somepony I cared for.

“I know you must have heard it plenty on your way back from the distant north, from Rare at least, but you’re still a good pony, Doc,” Sage tried to comfort me, “Nothing has changed. You’re still the same pony you were before.”

“Am I?” I asked, “I’m not so sure even the pony I was after I stopped being Lord Lamplight was so great after all. I wiped out settlements. Settlements whose residents were one step away from being raiders and were closely aligned with the NLC, but still. If I could justify my actions as Lord Lamplight, then what’s to stop me from justifying any of the other terrible things I’ve done or will do? How do I know what I’m doing is really what’s right?”

Sage was silent for a minute before answering me, giving me plenty of time to question if my words had been the right thing to say.

“It’s hard to say what is right in the Wasteland,” Sage said thoughtfully, “Nopony can be perfect all the time. All we can do is be the best we can.”

“And what if the best I can be is Lord Lamplight?” I asked.

“It isn’t,” Sage assured me, “If you don’t trust yourself, then trust me. You’re a different pony now than you were then, and you’ve already done better. You’ve been given a gift that nopony else has, to get a second chance at life.”

“And what if I mess up again?” I asked, looking up at the pressmare.

“You’ll have your friends and their memories to help you,” Sage said with a small smile, “Ache and Roaring Thunder may be gone, but they believed in you. Rare Sparks and Zherana are also with you and can help you in the future. And you have … me. I believe you’re a good pony as well, and one who’ll help save the Wasteland besides. And I’m not just saying that as DJ Pon3, though I’d gladly broadcast such an attestation for all the Wasteland to hear.”

“I suppose you’re probably right,” I said as I sat up in bed.

“I know I’m right,” Sage said mischievously, before reverting back to seriousness, “Feel better now?”

“Better,” I admitted with a nod, though I didn’t know if I’d ever truly be able to put my past as Lord Lamplight behind me. Maybe that was good, though, in a way. “How am I supposed to live with the responsibility for what Lord Lamplight’s done?” I asked, thinking about Zherana’s advice.

“I don’t think that’s something I can answer for you, and not just because I’m out of sage advice for today,” Sage said with a small giggle at the end, “What do you think?”

“Well, I should start by trying to undo the bad I’ve already done,” I vocalized my thoughts.

“Seems you already started doing that before you even knew about your past. Stopping the Northern Lights Coalition, right?” Sage said, and I nodded in affirmation.

“I thought I knew what to do,” I continued, “But that was before I learned that Lord Lamplight had tried a similar thing.”

“And what is that?” Sage asked, coaxing me to continue.

“Lord Lamplight formed an alliance to raiders, slavers, and settlements across Vanhoover, Stalliongrad, and beyond. If we hope to stand against it, then we need an alliance of our own,” I said, “Piecemeal agreements between settlements is not enough. We need true unity. We need a north Equestrian alliance.”

“You have a plan?” Sage asked, though her question sounded rhetorical.

“Yes, I do,” I said, much more confident than I’d felt just a few minutes ago, “Whatever Lord Lamplight’s plans were, they don’t matter anymore, because I’m a new pony and I’ll pursue my own destiny! The settlements of the north Equestrian Wasteland must join together against the threats that oppose them, sooner rather than later, so I must intervene to that purpose. I can start here in Vanhoover, with The Strip, Burnside, Crate City, and Tartarus.”

“You may also want to include New Sundale,” Sage said, shocking me.

“New Sundale?” I asked.

“Yes, ever since the NLC activity increased, ponies in individual dwellings in the area have been flocking to the Sundale Power Plant. There’s a settlement there again,” Sage explained.

Sundale: the first settlement I’d come across in the Wasteland. It had been wiped out by NLC raiders, though I hadn’t realized that at the time. Now it was back, and I had a second chance. It seemed to be a theme with me, and I’m glad that I was thinking of positive themes now rather than the negative ones.

“Of course,” I said, “I’ll have to see this New Sundale.”

“Perfect,” Sage said as she grinned, and I had the feeling her excitement was mostly due to seeing me out of the gloom that had consumed me ever since learning about my past, “When do we leave?”

“We?” I asked, taken off guard by her once again.

“Yes, I’m coming with you,” Sage stated, not asked, “I have a reporter’s obligation not just to The Strip anymore, but also to the entire north Equestrian Wasteland, and you’re the biggest and most important story around. Also, I don’t want to be apart for weeks or months not knowing when I’ll see you again.”

“Oh,” I said, mostly at that last bit that she’d spit out quickly, “O-of course, the more the merrier. I should probably talk to Rare and Zherana.”

“Yes, I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed to see you past Lord Lamplight,” Sage said, and her face heated up, “Oh, sorry.”

She was right, though. I’d let my past, a past I’d had no memory of until very recently, consume my present. I wasn’t going to let it consume my future, though. I’d learn to live with the things I’d done as Lord Lamplight, and use them to make amends as Doc. I wasn’t one or the other—Lord Lamplight or Doc—I was both, in a way. But like anypony who’d made mistakes in their past, I could overcome them through good actions in my future and become a different pony than I’d once been. Lord Lamplight wouldn’t decide my future, I would.

[Max Level Reached]
New Quest: Together – Create a North Equestrian Alliance to face the Northern Lights Coalition.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

How many chapters long will this story be?

[FireOfTheNorth]

10718182
64 + Epilogue