Equestria's Ray of Hope

by The_Darker_Fonts

Too Many Memories

“I was told that the police officer who found me used the very same knife I’d been stabbed with to cauterize my stomach wound,” Ray told Skalos and Otolo tonelessly. He chuckled darkly at the humor of it. He kept turning the knife in his hand over, looking for any magical anomaly, a rune or strange glow or anything to give away why he’d suddenly remembered the night it had taken him two years to fully forget. “Funny how the very same knife that killed me also technically saved me, don’t you think?”

Skalos gave him an investigative lookover, before responding. “You look alive to me, lordling.”

“Well, I am now,” he admitted dryly. Leaning back slightly on the hillside, he continued, “But I wasn’t after arriving at the hospital. I was clinically dead for over three minutes. Three minutes and twenty three seconds, if I remember what they told me correctly.”

Skalos had a grim tightness to his thinned lips, his milky blue eyes staring solemnly forward. He looked back over to Ray, asking quickly, “How did they bring you back from the dead, then? As far as Twilight’s told me, there isn’t any magic or medicine to bring back the dead. She didn’t go into great detail about your world’s technology, saying that it was more than what she understood too…”

“No, there isn’t any magic there, but there is electricity,” Ray responded candidly. “They shocked me something like four times. The burn scars faded a few months afterwards, but the stab wound will be there for the rest of my life.” With a sudden wry grin, he joked, “It’s a shame, really. The guys at the junkyard said that come summertime, my ‘chiseled bod’ would catch every girl’s eye from Northview to Overbrook…”

He trailed off as his grin faded, the memory of home bittering at his own situational awareness. “I don’t think I’ll ever marry,” Ray noted sadly. He didn’t know why he’d said it loud enough to hear, but then again, he was almost one hundred percent sure the Fallen could read lips, so it wouldn’t have mattered. However, what he truly didn’t expect was Skalos’ sudden and humorous response.

“No, I expect we won’t,” the Fallen muttered towards his feet.

Cocking his head in confusion at Skalos, he asked, “Whaddya mean? You guys can be married?”

“Yes, we can,” Skalos answered with a wry grin, wryer than Ray’s own from earlier. “You remember the stallion from earlier? Pelios? Well, the specific mare he’s talking about is Ambrosia. They’ve been together for over two hundred years…”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up at the fact, surprised not only at the statement that it was allowed, but also the length of the relationship. “How does that even work,” he exclaimed softly in bewilderment. “Aren’t you all dead?”

Skalos bellowed out a hoarse laugh, shaking his smooth head from side to side. Ray’s brows furrowed in further confusion, wondering what exactly was so funny about his presumption. There seemed to be no apparent humor in it, so he presumed it was some sort of inside joke between the Fallen.

“We may be dead in appearance, and we may have lost our skin, but we still live, breath, eat, drink, and everything. We lost our skin because it cannot survive hundreds of years of cold and malnourishment, so Luna’s Curse gave us new skin and new blood. Spectral skin and spectral blood, the very same thing that cloaks the Windigos and pumps through their veins.” The cryptic stallion explained this with a subtle smile on his face, as if knowing he wasn’t answering Ray’s question, but not caring as to elaborate. Then, as if Ray’s mental questioning had been heard, he answered, “Our organs, all of them, are working, but not producing. Nothing new is being introduced to the system. No new blood, no new substances. Everything we consume is used, nothing wasted.”

Ray’s eyes had widened slightly, but he remained silent as Skalos concluded his explanation, the same subtle smile remaining. However, after a few more moments of silence, his smile dimmed and faded away.

“The topic has actually caused quite a bit of controversy among we Fallen,” Skalos resumed somberly. “You see, there are different minorities in our ranks. They consist of the Grim, the Moderates, and the Foals. The Foals think that this whole ordeal is a rebirth of some sort, a second chance at life in a place where we can only harm ourselves and whatever causes us to be called up. They encourage things such as relationships, friendships, and, well, to put it lightly, engagements. There are over six hundred married couples, all of which were married anytime in the last two hundred year, although this ideology has been pursued almost since the day we were hidden from the world.

“On the other hand, the Grims, which I am a part of, believe this as it is, a curse for our iniquities and a way to redeem ourselves before death. We are very strict on unity and rank, which is why a great deal of us are in the higher ranking piece of the army. We don’t think that any sort of entertainment, relationship, or enjoyment should be had among the soldiers, because we are still soldiers. We number a large amount of the population, some seventy percent. We chastise and work on policing the Foals, trying to keep them memorable of the reason they can still have their parties and liberties, and not the black trails of death.

“And then there are the Moderates, the so-called ‘yes-ponies’. They are a small portion, perhaps seven or eight hundred Fallen, but they dictate that we neither ‘waste away in the mourning of our failures’, nor ‘languish in the fruits of mercy’. They dictate that we should ‘accept the consequences and prepare for our purpose in a way that helps us physically, mentally, and emotionally.” The light scoffing of Skalos was not missed by Ray, but he did find himself agreeing with these Moderates. “They claim to support and disdain neither side, instead favoring the common ground between the two ideologies.”

“Well I agree with them,” Ray said, speaking his mind to his teacher. The Fallen turned to him abruptly with widened eyes, as if not expecting a response from him, let alone that one.

“Huh,” the stallion let, looking back to the grassy ground in front of them. The early morning dew had long since faded in the cool sunlight, the coming fall weather having slowly begun to take effect already. Even though it was nearing ten in the morning, the sun still hadn’t warmed the field they were in. Otolo, ever faithfully perched on his shoulder in uncharacteristic silence and solemnity, kept ruffling her feathers in an attempt to find a warmer position against his neck. Every time she did so, Ray could hear the distant sound of a shutting car door, the sound of feather smacking on feather so close to his ear chillingly resembling the noise.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be a Moderate,” Skalos finally spoke, almost with an undertone of disappointment to it. “Would you explain to me your views on the matter.”

Ray tightened his lips, mind running through a quick thesis, before he answered with calm confidence, “I may not be a soldier, or one of you even, but I know that in every army, you need to have strong moral. I don’t think that that’s pursued well if you tell them they’re only here to die for their mistakes in a last ditch attempt at redemption. They have something to fight for, sure, but they’ve been disconnected from it for over a thousand years, right? Maybe something more… familiar to fight for, like friends in the ranks would help encourage better fighting in them?”

“Yes, the very same argument the Moderates use,” Skalos responded, almost sadly. “And I will use the very same rebuttal that we Grims always use: the emotional connection will only get more killed. We cannot let our emotions dwell on anything but the task at hand, which is to keep you alive and as many as us alive every battle. We aren’t a renewable army. We have no reinforcements, no reproduction, and few of us as it is. As such, we should keep preservation in our minds, preservation and perseverance, not philanthropy.”

“But wouldn’t you better persevere with a companion of some sort,” Ray countered evenly. “And what about all those ponies you mentioned who had put themselves out, hm? Would they have been more enticed to continue on if they weren’t forced to solely think on their past mistakes. If the memory of failure is the only thing to drive somebody, wouldn’t that insight further failure?”

Skalos gave Ray a strange look as he finished his piece, one of almost… pride? Ray didn’t understand it well, but he felt he had done well with his own argument. Skalo nodded ever so slightly, speaking softly. “This is most likely true. Just another example of what you know that we ponies don’t. You’ve lived rougher than us, and made less mistakes, as Twilight’s account goes.” Concern etched into the dead pony’s expression after a moment, though. “I don’t think Twilight anticipated this, because she certainly didn’t tell me about what was going on inside your head. We might want to consider the possibility that this happens every time you see something familiar to that night in the city.”

Ray looked down at the knife with a frustrated glare before suddenly standing up straight and throwing the weapon towards the opposite hill. It spun in the air, the glint of sunlight on its metal blade flickering into Ray’s eyes, causing him to lose sight of it. He heard the soft thump of it hitting the nearby hill, but it was lost in the sea of rising green. Otolo chirped at him sharply for his sudden movement, but Ray disregarded the little bird, turning to the stallion who had called him here. For a moment they just stared at each other, before Ray spoke up.

“That night was a blank slate to me,” he began. “I remember waking up that morning, knowing I’d screwed up. Next thing I knew, I was staring in a mirror positioned over my sewed shut gut wound as a doctor explained how I’d barely survived. I knew what happened, and who had done it too, but I didn’t really know. The whole rest of the day is missing, some sort of mental black hole having enveloped the entirety of that night. And then, today, you saw me pick up a knife, and disappear.

“It was like I was there again, watching the whole thing as it was. I was back in that moment, back to my twelve year old self. I thought in the moment, but it was memory, and did everything I had done then, but now. I felt it, felt the stab, the burning in my stomach.” For some reason, Ray felt tears sliding down his cheeks even though he wasn’t sad or even upset about it. He was just crying. “I was back to calling the police. Went back and killed those two guys, those two guys that tried to kill me.”

Skalos moved forward in an unprocessed gesture of condolence, but Ray didn’t see it. He was slowly sinking to the grassy ground, his mind lost to the memory of his killings. “I saw their bodies, I crawled through their blood. I stole the phone of a dead kid I had killed so that I didn’t die. Skalos, I killed two other boys that night, two other guys just like me. They had lives and ambitions too, but I took that.”

His hands wrapped tightly around the front of his face until he felt his nails imprinting themselves in the skin on his temples. He could hear it all over again, the dull crack of Jackson’s skull splitting on the door knob, the echoing wet popping that Kaleb’s neck had made when he snapped it, and the ringing of the sirens in the night. They all were there, all screeching at him in a symphony of unwashed and unbridled memory.

And suddenly there was a firm, strong masculine voice in the midst of it all, something yelling at him, shouting at him. For a moment, Ray didn’t comprehend it, but the second time it shouted, he heard it loud and clear.

“Get up, lordling.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even an order. It was a demand. Squeezing his already closed eyes, Ray stood quickly, pulling his hands off of his face with a silent grimace.

“Stay up, lordling.”

Another demand, this one harder than the last in both tone and performance. He straightened his back and tilted his head back, resisting the shaking in his legs until it stopped.

“Tell me you’re here, lordling.”

Forcing his eyes open, Ray looked back down at the ghostly stallion that was calling to him over the snapping and screaming. With a determined grit in his teeth, Ray answered, “I’m here. I’m here.”

The stallion’s face hardened ever so slightly as he asked, “What was that?”

“Raymond’s gone. Ray’s here. I’m here,” Ray spoke sharply, an intense and focused glare honing in on the stallion before him. As he punctuated the last word, the noises, the screams and snaps and cracks and wailing sirens all died, shattered suddenly and leaving only Ray’s panting breath to be heard.

Ray’s glare slowly diminished into a tired stare, fatigue causing him to go to the ground. Instantly, Otolo was back on his shoulder, pressing her head against his left cheek firmly. Skalos’ hoof took up the space of his other shoulder as the stallion stared deep into the human’s eyes. The milky blue depths of his eyes consumed his fears and inner turmoil, leaving only the grim, determined, thin resolve he now had,

Slowly, ever creeping, a slim smile crossed across the Fallen’s face. “Welcome back, lordling.”

“Good to be back,” Ray muttered with a short, exhausted pant.

“Now then,” Skalos began, straightening himself up, “I believe that we have some training to do. I don’t suppose you’d want to do much knife work today. Usually I would make you, but you’re a strange case, and thus we must conduct with a different, unique session. I didn’t anticipate for this to happen, but I supposed it wouldn’t be harmful to show you what you would eventually get to in your training.”

Walking briskly around the still kneeling, Skalos continued with, “We -Princess Twilight, Ringer, and I- all figured that since these beasts have thick skin and tough muscles, a sword like would be used against ponies would be inappropriate to use. Instead, we concocted a new spear, specially designed for the use of a human and destruction of a minotaur.”

Ray had turned with the Fallen, standing up straight and following him with Otolo aloft, he found himself being led around the side of the hill. On the side of the hill was a simple wooden door, much like a simplified version of the entrance to a hobbit-hole. Ray was about to ask what it was exactly, but the squeaking of the door being jerked open cut him off. Shutting his mouth silently, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity, walking up to the door. Before he reached it, however, Skalos came lumbering back out, something long, large, and shiny laid across his back.

“Here you are, lordling,” the Fallen produced strangely, laying the object to rest on the ground. “The weapon that you’ll lead us to battle with.”

For a moment, Ray’s mind didn’t quite process the weapon, its odd shape and gross geometry foreign to him. But slowly, he began to recognize it as some sort of spear. It had three separate blades, each curving gracefully into each other to form a precisely sharp, deadly tip. Each of the blades were like their own elegant miniature axe heads, but much slimmer. The center of it was devoid of any structure, presumably to allow him to catch his enemy’s weapons in it and disarm them. A slim, tooth-like hook stuck out of the right side, looking like a metal shark tooth had been embedded into the handle.

The handle itself was simple and practical. It shone in the light, the entire rod metal, save for a portion covered up with a rough, leathery looking grip. The end of the spear was slimmed and sharpened to a single point, making the weapon deadly on both ends. There wasn’t a single dent, scratch, or engraving on the entirety of it, making the entire thing looking new. Ray refrained himself from picking up the weapon until Skalos had gestured for him to do so. Ray whistled softly in appreciation as he picked it up, Otolo joining in.

It was heavy, some ten to fifteen pounds. He felt like he was lifting a lead pipe, but hours of work at the dump and the work he’d done only a few days ago with the Apples had prepared him for the weight, at least slightly. His arm strained slightly, so he grasped it with both hands firmly around the grip. He noticed silently that the grip was made from some sort of fibery substance that was equally soft and ridged, allowing him to hold it firmly. It was at least an inch thick, and covered about a foot around the shaft, right in the middle. It was strange, to say the least, but it worked well as he gave it a few false swings.

They were clumsy, his untrained hands unused to the weight and geometry of the spear, causing it to slip around in his grip. However, even with the clumsiness of his movement, it seemed deadly, a fact that was not missed by the way Skalos had stepped back a few feet. There was perpetual silence as Skalos allowed him to continue to test out the graceful weapon, glinting sunlight caught by the flashing metal. Otolo had flown into the air once again, which gave him more room to move and less restrictions. He briefly thought how strange it was that an eight ounce bird could be the difference between a thrust and a swing.

“It seems you approve,” Skalos suddenly interjected through his movement. Smiling, the stallion held up a hoof to cut off Ray’s oncoming response. “I would advise you, lordling, to carry it with you. Care not for what others think, including those you know. During our war, we will always carry our weapons in our waking hours, maybe even in our sleep. The best way to become acclimated to the weight is to always have it.”

Ray nodded in understanding, before asking, “Do I just hold it like this with my hands?” He posed with it, his right hand around the grip while his other lay leisurely to the side, barely keeping the bottom from the ground. “Or is there some sort of holster or something to carry it in?”

Shaking his head, Skalos explained, “You won’t have anything to hold it in until our woodworker knows how to make a correct scabbard for it. It’s a complicated weapon, and requires a complicated holder. So yes, for now, you will walk around with it on guard.”

Once again nodding in understanding, he looked back over the small lake, then to the little house in the side of the hill. Slightly confused, he pointed at it, questioning, “How did that even get that there? Is that some sort of property of the Apples that you’re using or did you just build that there for this purpose?”

“Oh no,” Skalos denied, “that isn’t the property of the Apples, or any resident in the area. It’s illegal for the state and military to annex the property of private owners. No, this is actually a piece of four straight acres squared that isn’t owned by anybody. The lake is technically property of the Tops, but that doesn’t concern us. We’re only close to it because of coincidence. The house was built here long ago, by a friend of Celestia’s right after the war, and was his until his disappearance years afterwards. But that doesn’t matter at all. Instead, we must focus on the matter at hand. You would have had to work on sheathing and unsheathing the knife for the majority of the next six hours, but since there seems to be a chink in our plan, you’ll spend the next six hours instead helping your family on the farm, all whilst keeping that spear from hitting the ground. Another sort of training, I would say, one to train your physical and mental discipline.”

Ray nodded in understanding before turning to do as his mentor had told him. Before he had reached the bend in the hill, though, he turned back and smiled gratefully to Skalos. “Thank you.”

Skalos returned the smile, although his statement afterwards was not exactly motivational. “You won’t be thanking me in three hours, and probably will be cursing my name in six. But I’ll take the sentiment while it’s here.”

Laughing nervously at the Fallen’s response, he turned back to the Apple’s farm, setting out to complete his task, Otolo perched on his shoulder.

***********************************************************************************************************

The sound of feminine grunts and the heavy, dull thunking of hooves on wood alerted Fluttershy to her nearing Applejack. Continuing down the row of great trees, she suddenly found herself staring at a rapidly shaking tree. Squeaking in surprise an apple dropped from above, she flew to the side, avoiding the sudden barrage of apples. She was suddenly glad for her nervous habit of shooting into the air instead of running, as if she had, she would’ve tripped over one of the many baskets surrounding the tree, collecting the raining fruit.

“Fluttershy!” The sudden exclamation of her name surprised the already jumpy mare, making her beat her wings a bit too hard, sending her head into an overhanging branch. Grimacing and rubbing the top of her head tentatively, she looked over to where a surprised looking Applejack stood. She held a hoof over her snout, attempting to hide a laugh.

Fluttershy sighed and rolled her eyes at her own clumsiness as she landed, stumbling a bit and nearly careening into another of the apple laden baskets. A snicker sneaked through AJ’s hoof, causing Fluttershy to simultaneously huff in frustration and blush in embarrassment. The farmer mare saw, however, making her say, “I’m sorry, Fluttershy. I didn’t mean anythin’ ‘bout it. Just couldn’t help it any.”

“Oh, it’s fine Applejack,” the disgruntled pegasus muttered, staring at the ground. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“No problem with a friend droppin’ by,” Applejack responded brightly, approaching her friend for a hug in greeting. “Now what can I do ya for?”

“Well, I was wondering if Ray was around,” Fluttershy asked. “He told me that he was now a member of the Apple family now, so I figured he might be at the farm since he wasn’t at his room in Canterlot, on the train, or at his house. I’m weighing the possibility that he was abducted by Pinkie or the Cutie Mark Crusaders, but I thought it’d be better to check with you first.”

“Well, glad ya did,” her friend gave heartily, pointing off to another part of the orchard. “He’s right over there, kinda northeast of th’ barn.” Applejack’s face suddenly scrunched up slightly in a sort of concerned frown, adding, “Ya might want ta know, though, that he’s been kinda distant. I mean, he didn’t come ta eat lunch with us, or at all, I think, but he also has only been seen by me. He’s workin’, ta be sure, and workin’ hard, but he’s been rather reclusive while he’s at it. It’s hard ta say, but it prob’ly has something ta do with th’ spear he suddenly turned up with.”

“The what,” Fluttershy exclaimed with shock and horror, turning to her friend sharp enough that her neck popped slightly. Applejack balked at her sudden explosion, pushing her hat back with a hoof as her widened eyes stared at the pink mare. “Are you sure it was a spear,” Fluttershy asked quickly.

“Pretty darn sure, though it had a weird hook thing on it,” Applejack clarified. “It was at least a weapon of some sort, and Ray seemed pretty nervous about it, or us finding it, anyways.”

“Thank you, Applejack,” Fluttershy hastily expressed, rushing into the air once again. “I’d love to talk to you again,” she called behind her shoulder. “Sugarcube Corner this Sunday?”

Fluttershy failed to hear her friend’s response as she rushed between trees towards the area indicated by Applejack where the only human in Equestria was working. Wings beating furiously, she muttered heatedly, “Sweet Celestia, Twilight. What did you get Ray into now?”

Author's Note:

This one took longer to complete than it usually would, and I only have writer's block and revisions to blame. Sorry for it being so late, but I hope you enjoy Ray mentally breaking down one last time. Also, look forward to a new piece in the HOE storyline, Chronicles of the Reformed.

Comments

[paladinwolf]

A spear, nice choice...

It was heavy, some forty to forty five pounds.

Hold, the phone! spears, even really large and nice ones are lighweight for a reason. Heavy ones might hit 10-12 lbs. Normal ones should be 4-6 lbs. A friggin Spud bar <iron diggin bar appx 6 ft long> weighs about 15-16 lbs. So your telling me to wrap up 3 spud bars and call it a spear? That thing would be so unwieldy Andre the Giant wouldn't be able to wield it.
media1.tenor.com/images/da2c0c598ed2a17ab53ed47ab99379bf/tenor.gif?itemid=15411341

[Mocha Star]

10544056
Okay, I'm home from work and can actually comment now.

The story, I'm all caught up to "What have you gotten Ray into now, Twilight..." and I was sad to be caught up.
The story reads like it's written by a professional, even though you have a lot of grammatical issues. I use TTS so it ignores those, but misspellings are still read as they are spelled. Only a couple, though.

The future is bright and I love how you are keeping everypony in character and making it a fun and inviting story that we can all follow. Your headcanon is right on, being in the future. I forgot that all this is happening in the future when I commented on that part. My reference to finances and related are a moot point, because 1) Twilight had very little to no knowledge of Ray's earth. 2) She couldn't have known about the economics of earth because economics is ever changing when worth of a dollar is applied.

Lastly, the bit being worth SO MUCH is just silly. A bit is about the size of a penny, a handful wouldn't be worth enough to buy everything they ever needed back on earth, much less a house and good/better lives for long. Not with 7 kids plus two adults.

The family size is crazy; why can't the parents exercise and form of birth control, and if they are religeous, why doesn't Ray talk about it a lot more? "Jesus" this and "God" that, kinda stuff.

Ray's acting way more mature than a 14 year old, even one on the streets. Just saying, not complaining. He's just coming across as the start of a Gary Stu; everything is working out for him in every way, and to balance it out, Ray has a single troubled incident in his past he has to work through. Only, thankfully, he's not alone because he has a romantic interest that is choosing him over everyone else she knows and... wait, yeah, Ray's a Gary Stu.

He's gotten a scepter of unbreaking that will smite all it strikes. He's already buff and a heart throb for any woman, now add ponies to the list.
Sheesh, I just realized all that. You gotta work on that, or Ray, with all his single trouble issue in his past from the fight and being the sole provider for his siblings (sounds kinda heavy for a 14 year old) he's going to go into the future without any real worries.
He's already immortal, the general of an army the size of Manehattan, physically fit to an athlete's physique; from working as a garbage boy.

What about child labor laws? How do they not apply in 21st century America? 14 year olds can't work but certain hours between certain times on certain days. Sounds like Rays bosses are risking everything for him.

Okay, sorry, just bringing up issues. The story is still very well written and every interaction is natural and flows like they should. Keep writing, I look forward to what you've got in story; hopefully Gary Ray will become more normal in some ways and entertain us for many chapters ahead.

Update: he also has a confident spirit guide to help him through all his coming trials. Master Uugway would be honored at all the coincidences our child hero is going through.
😹

[The_Darker_Fonts]

10544085
So, in response to all of this, my first thing will be to admit that the family size may seem a bit skiffed, but I'm a honeymoon baby, and my other three siblings are all condom and birth control babies. Also, there are two sets of twins and his parents are hinted at being high school sweethearts, so take that as you will. Ray himself isn't religious, but his family is, enough that he's just made a little filter not to say "God" or "Jesus" around others, as a natural thing he learned when he was young.

On to labor laws. This is voluntary work, and while they do exist, private companies sometimes reduce the minimum age from 16 to 14, for regular workers, and down to 12 for family workers. Also, I doubt a little thing like a age restriction would keep Ray from finding a job. Plus the bonus that he dropped out of high school when he was a sophomore at 12, and I think you get why there might be some confusion on age that would let it slide. Also, junkyards are a gray area in labor, so his boss there (which he works the late nights on), doesn't have much to risk. As much as he's a good guy in the brief glimpse we get to him, he also wouldn't mind another worker for minimum wage.

As for Ray being jacked, I wouldn't put it nearly as much as you're saying. He's a solid dude, and does have muscles, but think more along the lines of your average freshman running back. He's got 'em, but they aren't spectacular, like some sort of anime protagonist. Also, the kid isn't immortal, but he won't die from being old.

Now, with the money, it's a bit (haha) more exaggerated, but think about it. This is a kid who's own salary paid for the food and clothes partially. When he sees thirty or so fancy gold coins, his mind's going to make leaps and bounds on it. Remember, Ray is one of our "narrators", per se. We see it as third person limited through his mind, so sometimes, we'll get something unreliable completely because of his biased view. Twilight knew the temporary economics of Ray's world because she was able to view it sparingly. Now this doesn't necessarily mean it's correct, but it gives him an idea of what his perspective to this should be.

Now, about romance... *woooooo* Ray is a heart throb, but he's also kinda the nightmare version of it. I mean, as AJ pointed out blatantly, there isn't much hope for surviving this. But I guess that was before the army (but they don't know that). There's also the whole thing with his psyche and how much he doesn't want to get in a relationship (but he will; there's a romance tag for a reason), and the fact that overall, he just isn't what I think most women/mares would want. But then again, I'm a dude, so I have no idea.

I'm glad you've caught up, but I'm also incredibly surprised. I mean, what was that, like, three days? Anyways, I plan to post this story at least bi weekly, but who knows. I love the questions, because it allows me to explain stuff that sometimes I won't be able to write, and realize where I'm wrong. Speaking of which...

10539650
Thank you for helping me realize this. Adjustments being made.

And by the way, thanks for the Favorite. Seeing as you are a beyond adequate commentator, I'll have to go check out a few of your stories.

[sykko]

Though his weapon sounds cool in its description, it's still a very complicated weapon to wield properly, even by an experienced warrior, the head described as having what looks like triple-bit ax, the weighting on it would be so wonky that unless it has a pretty good counterweight on the base of it, it would wear his shoulders out pretty quick and would really only be useful as a terror weapon. Don't get me wrong, the weapon sounds awesome as all get out and the rule of cool always wins out in fictional settings.

[The_Darker_Fonts]

10545649
The base is counterweighted to allow it to be also used as a lethal portion of the weapon. Also, yes, it is complicated. That's why it took a general, mathematician (in this case, at least), and at least mentioned weaponsmith. I realized what I was building with my mind, because as the dedicated nerd I am to my stories, I reenact these in the backyard with whatever model I can build (in this case rebar and taped together tonfas with the base stuck in about a half inch of cement). Besides, who needs shoulders?

[sykko]

10546388
Oof! That mock-up sounds like a beast of a weapon!

[The_Darker_Fonts]

10546413
The reason it no longer exists is because my mom walked out on my knocking myself in the shins with it. Apparently it's not a good idea to reenact battles with it. Who knew!

[sykko]

10546428
Sounds like that weapon was hard to control.

[Derpybrony890]

This chapter was cool. As always Skalos is helpful and a beast of awesome, and the weaponry of the spear is probably going to become a classic (I would have dared you to bring that weapon to some event. No context either, just show up to some random party and show off that GOT styled spear). And of course, Otolo, the reason I both want and don't want a bird as a pet. All in all, another great chapter that causes me anticipation.

[The_Darker_Fonts]

10546660
Yeah, tape doesn't really help much with grip, so sometimes I slip up.

10548227
Thank you!

[sykko]

10548329
Sounds like you used either electrical tape or duct tape, you should have used hockey tape.