• Published 26th Apr 2020
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Equestria's Ray of Hope - The_Darker_Fonts

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A Game of Sorts

Ray slept fitfully that night. Despite the comforting Zecora had given him, he still saw an occasional flash of murderous destruction, or managed to catch a bit of glowing blue blood in the corner of his eyes. He still felt as if his body was fighting against imaginary foes, and he almost felt the stress of it as well. If it weren’t for Skalos, he was sure he would have slept well into the afternoon.

The Fallen general shook him awake, not roughly, but certainly not gently. After a meal of some strange tube plants provided by Zecora, along with a healthy dose of medicine, Skalos informed him more fully of the plans for the day. He explained that he had a game set up for them, sort of like chess, but more layered and strategic. It had been explicitly designed for the training of captains and generals, using multiple layers and types of pieces with different abilities based on the actual animals they represented. When he pulled out one of the boards, which Zecora conveniently owned, it looked like a 3D chess board with circles alongside diamonds and uneven rectangles.

The game itself was much more complicated, with the option of posting another layer above the base one in practicing aerial combat motives. However, even though there were a couple hundred Fallen who were pegasi, they were out of the practice of flight, and it was more useful to have them as archery divisions. As such, they used only the bottom layer and set aside two pieces; aerial lancers and aerial archers. There were still ten total pieces remaining, including earth pony warriors, unicorn sorcerers, pegasi archers, and earth pony calvary. The definition of cavalry was a bit muddled when talking about pony war tactics, but these cavalry were armed with a sort of retractable spear that allowed them to charge in, ram an enemy, then discard them with a sliding mechanism pulled by their teeth.

Opposing them were a legion of minotaurs that filled about half of the one hundred twenty eight spots on the map. Each corner was shaped like a quarter of a circle, each of the five rings split into three sections, with a valley of two rectangles by eight rectangles leading into the center, four inward pointing triangles. The minotaurs had hold of one of the “hills”, while he and his forces of only forty units held a hillside and valley, plus one of the inner triangles. These were supposed to represent the frontline of a battle, where the leading force could be attacked from all sides except from behind. Each singular piece had different heights, depending on how many soldiers they depicted.

Each cavalry unit was worth one hundred lives, with four different levels representing one hundred, seventy five, fifty, and then twenty five soldiers, from highest to smallest respectively. Every time the unit was hit, it lost the height of the piece by one, unless it was double teamed and destroyed. There were a lot of mechanics that he didn’t understand about the game, especially the archery and double teaming, but the strategy was rather simple. You wanted to make sure that your units had at least three companion units if they were melee, and you always fired volleys before you struck, otherwise you would cause yourself damage.

The first round they played with this minotaur setup he lost soundly, as he accidentally eliminated his three cavalry unit and a warrior unit. He then proceeded to throw his own personal unit into a triangle position that got him surrounded and destroyed. The battle ended when he called the remaining seventeen units to retreat from the battle, which was a loss. At first, he felt disheartened by the loss and swift victory of the enemy, but when he looked, he noticed that he had still eliminated four minotaur pieces, and that many were two or three pegs down. Altogether, for about three thousand Fallen, he’d defeated three thousand minotaurs. Skalos called the battle a loss with benefits, the benefit being that they lost an even amount of soldiers in a defensive battle.

The second round went smoother. Ray was able to figure out the mistakes of the first round, that being a simultaneous volley charge tactic, and instead made the cavalry charge as the arrows flew. While the maneuver did give them time to react to the volley, it was still pressured by the approaching units of cavalry pieces. Skalos had realized towards the end of the first round that the number of cavalry and the number of warriors had been switched, and that there should’ve been twenty four cavalry and three warriors, and not vice versa. This led to Ray being able to hit with three consecutive waves on the same front eliminating five minotaur pieces, combined with the volley.

The game progressed to a stalemate where Ray had the enemy surrounded on three sides, and with archers able to volley them to oblivion, but they also had an escape. This time, Ray forced the retreat, but the fight was declared a strategic stalemate, as only half of the minotaur units had been destroyed, and for the cost of seven cavalry units and a warrior unit. It was also then that Ray learned that warrior units were meant to be used as a barrier unit that supported the cavalry from behind, like padding between waves, and not a direct attack unit. He also learned that there was the ability to convert units into archers, and archers into cavalry and warrior units, although in either case, the transverted unit only had half the attack and defensive strength.

By the third round, it was near lunchtime, and Ray had learned the uphill battle concept. It was easier to defend when uphill, and likewise harder to attack uphill. Meanwhile, downhill charges were faster, and if performed correctly with other units, could potentially form a wave effect of damage, destroying the wave of uphill attackers and causing less damage to the defenders. It was also better to have a downhill volley, as it allowed longer range and more defense for the weaker defensive unit. There was a great deal of confusion when Ray unintentionally split his archer groups and had them fire at the same time, as the tactic allowed him to focus new areas, and not one broad area. He also learned belated volleys, which performed like they sounded; one volley of arrows followed by another, each committed by half of the archers.

There was more to this round as well. The concept of perpetuated importance, or the idea in battle that a specific area is strategically worth fighting over among the common soldiers when it’s not. This created areas where the fighting was centered in longer battles, which this one was. The round lasted deep into the mid-noon, as Skalos intentionally created multiple spots of contention, including the center four triangles. The elongated battle also created more casualties than the previous two rounds for the minotaurs, and an almost equal amount for the first round for the Fallen. In total, almost all units in the minotaur army were destroyed by consistent volleys and waves of cavalry, leaving only nine of sixty two units. This also caused eleven cavalry units to be destroyed, with three on their last tick, and a warrior unit and one of the mage units as well.

In the end, it was a costly but decisive victory, one that they would gladly take on any occasion. It was some two thousand lives for about six thousand minotaurs, a three hundred percent casualty rate for Ray and his Fallen. That was concerning, however. Two thousand soldiers was still over ten percent of the Fallen right now, and the amount of casualties the minotaurs suffered may have been sustainable. It was still impossible to know their actual strength or the possible reinforcements they may have, let alone the actual terrain they’d be fighting on, if they did indeed have to invade the continent. They had eaten a lunch provided by Zecora, and by the time the fifth round was concluding, the un had set.

After Skalos had put the game away, he Zecora prodded his shoulder some and inspected the wound. He still hadn’t been allowed to put a shirt on, partly because he had no shirt, but mostly because the two claimed they needed to keep a constant eye on the progress his wound was healing at. Ray had practically forgotten that the wound had even happened, as he was so invested in the game. It hardly hurt, and when he glanced at it now and then, the skin seemed to be almost completely repaired, the little stitches looking like they only held a papercut together. Zecora kept taking little notes on a sheet of paper, until at last, she declared, “The wound is mostly healed. The stitches must now be repealed.”

She produced a pair of scissors and carefully began the process of removing the stitches while Ray watched. The removal stung sharply, but he was more fascinated by the sight of the thread unweaving itself from his skin. It was strange to see it retract from the little holes in his skin and slide out, the little tugging feeling it left on his arm. Was it really like that the last time Ray had had stitches removed from him? He could’ve sworn it was much more painful, but perhaps it was merely because the area had still been rather sore when they had done the removal.

After his wife had finished removing the stitches, Skalos told him, “I think you’re clear to head home now. Don’t wear yourself out with anything, and whatever you do, don’t use that arm to lift or jerk anything around. We don’t want to reopen it. It may seem small and not too much of a problem right now, but if it does reopen, we’ll probably have to deal with strained muscles. Just be careful and be smart, and you won’t have anything to worry about. You’re free to go.”

Ray nodded in thanks. “Have a good night, you two,” he wished them as he began to leave.

“And you as well, have safety for a spell,” Zecora returned.

The cool night air had become crisper, the summer becoming autumn. It wasn’t cold enough that he was shivering yet, but a wave of goosebumps ran down his bare chest and arms. The moon had become thin, a silver sliver in the night sky, barely providing light, and the swamp provided too much cover, so the little light that did filter through the canopy was only in between the leaves of overhanging trees. There was little to give away where the path out was. He guessed that this was supposed to be another sort of test from Skalos and Zecora. If he was lost and on his own, how would he get back to where he was supposed to, especially without any light.

After considering for a moment, he looked towards the direction of the moon. The sun and moon raised and fell from east to west here, and since it was still early in the night, that meant that the moon was still in the east, and the open plains the opposite direction of it, the west. Well, that was simple enough. Walk west and you walk home. However, he knew there was more to it. This was the Everfree forest, he had to guess. They wouldn’t let him go off on his own if he wasn’t within walking range of Ponyville. If he was truly in the Everfree, then he would have to worry about Timberwolves and the likes, and also deal with bogs and trees that he might fall or run into.

After a moment of consideration, he bent down and took off his shoes and socks. He felt around the ground outside of Zecora’s house, the beaten down yet still soft grass. Slowly, he began walking straight from her door, until he felt his feet begin to squish on wetter ground. Not that way. He continued to the west, which was where he felt the path go for several hundred feet until he reached the next marshy patch. It took him a moment to orient himself, as he kept beginning to walk back the way he’d come, but he finally realized that the path led on after a couple feet of wetness. Using the same method, he slowly progressed through the forest, until he finally saw the very edges of the forest.

He walked straight out, finding himself staring at the glowing town of Ponyville. It wasn’t late enough into the night for the majority of its residents to have retired, and the houses and streets glowed warmly. He smiled as he stared at it from his slight vantage point, watching small figures move along the streets and buildings. This was a rare time to him, a moment where he got to see the simplicity of life in such a mediocre light. Their lives were slow moving, not having to care or worry about life altering wars or other deadly conflicts, just about what to eat and how their time will be spent. It was a special sort of thing to be able to see how they all moved about their life, to see the relative smallness of their town and themselves.

Ray walked home with a strange serenity. There was nothing to worry about right now, but there was everything to be afraid of with what was to come. Zecora had done her job though. Ray no longer felt completely like he was on the edge of a knife, waiting for the war every second, yet dreading it at the same time. He didn’t need to worry so much about it. It would come and he knew that. Nothing would change that. But that was okay. He didn't need to wait for it every second of the day, or worry about it in his every thought. There was nothing to do than what would be done eventually, and what he did eventually all depended on him being able to do what he needed to do now. Everything came in its order, the past before the present, and the present before the future.

He should not worry about and live his past, for the past was only to be 3remembered for learning. He shouldn’t dread the future, the potential outcomes of things that hadn’t taken place yet, events that weren’t existent. He needed to be present, in the moment, and do everything he could to ensure that he learned from his past to prevent a dark future. Before he worried about either the past or future, he had to worry about the present. He barely had time as it was to prepare for war, so wasting the precious free time he was given on worrying and regretting was a waste. He was to take that time to ensure that he remained the human he was, the one who wasn’t destined to be a villain. He had to be of his mind that he didn’t lose it. That was the practice he must keep.

The closer he got to his house, the more his thoughts became regular, or at least, less dreary. He wondered what Otolo had been up to since he hadn’t returned from the Apples’ farm. Maybe she had figured that he was just staying there? No, the bird was smart and would’ve checked to see how he was doing and where he was. She would’ve seen that he was gone… and then what? He didn’t know. Geez, what would the Apples think now? He’d been gone for practically two days without any news, and only Applejack and Apple Bloom knew that he’d headed off with Skalos. Would they think that he’d already left for the war, or that worse, the war had come early to them?

On second thought, the closer he got to his house, the drearier his thoughts became. With a hefty sigh, he continued up the hill that led to his house, praying he hadn’t caused a panic for everyone he knew. It was bad enough that he would be showing up without a shirt and with stitches in his shoulder from a wound, but what would happen when they learned who had given him the wound, and how Ray had killed someone. He closed his eyes as a wave of sadness washed over him, the yell of “You killed him!” echoing distantly. He would have to learn to live with this ghost as well, this haunting shout of a heartbroken mare to continue yelling at him for the loss of her love.

He stopped cold and shook his head, trying to get rid of the echoing cry. Judiciously, he decided that he would have to face Fluttershy to talk to her about the crying and nightmares. Although Zecora had eased them away, the vision of that mare ravaged him, and he knew that she would continue to devastate and distract him if he didn’t have some sort of outlet to vent to. Or cry on, an honest part of him thought. He always hated that side of him, the side of him that spoke out of turn and was technically true every time. With a sigh, he looked up the rest of his path, being able to spot the top floor of his house.

By the time he was actually arriving at his own front door, the moon had risen almost halfway up the sky. He was feeling more tired, and the dose of medicine he’d been provided with had worn out, leaving his shoulder sore. He felt he barely had the strength to push through the door, and he certainly wasn’t ready for the sudden assault that came immediately after.

Firstly, the loud, almost sharp twittering of Otolo, and her speeding into him, caught him completely off guard, as she landed uneasily on the tip of his nose, pecking his forehead in the process. She gave him a loud lecture of tweets and chirps, glaring at him with occasional peck as she flapped her little wings over and over. Before she could finish her scathing rant, another force, this one larger, shoved into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and causing Otolo to lose her balance and fly off.

The being wrapped around his neck and crying profusely was none other than Fluttershy, her pink fur pressing against him. He felt the warmth of her on his chest, fighting off the coolness of the night like a warm, living blanket. Who was crying. He didn’t know why she was crying exactly, but he instinctively reached down and began to pat her back, holding onto her lightly. Her tears were warm on his bare skin, leaving him slightly uncomfortable and undecided on what to do. Otolo almost landed on his shoulder, but spotted the stitching with a curious twittering, landing instead on his head.

Finally, the frail pegasus pulled back, teary eyes large and afraid as she stared up at him. “I-I-I-I was s-so afraid,” she told him. “Where did you go? Nopony knew where you’d gone and everypony who knew about the war thought that it’d come early! A-a-and then Twilight wasn’t even sure wh-where you were, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

“Hey hey hey, I’m okay, right,” he asked, gesturing to himself. “I mean, I might not be when Rarity hears that I completely destroyed one of my shirts, but-”

Fluttershy punched him in the shoulder, her eyes locked furiously with him, yelling harshly, “This is no joking matter!”

Ray almost dropped her as he yelled in pain, folding in slightly as he tried to deal with the sudden sharp pain. Despite the appearance of his wound practically being healed, it was definitely a long way to go for completely being fine. Fluttershy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped in regret and shock as she looked over to see his stitches, gasping as she realized what she’d hit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see that,” she yelped, putting her hoof up to his chin and lifting Ray’s chin to make eye contact. “Are you okay? Do you need anything for that?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he said through a grimace, before realizing he was gripping her rather tightly. “Sorry about that. Guess I shoulda mentioned I got stabbed.”

“Y-you… got stabbed,” Fluttershy questioned slowly, staring at his stitched shoulder.

“Yeah, I was actually going to try to find you tomorrow to talk about… things,” he told her, still wincing from the remaining pain in his shoulder. He already knew he’d be feeling that for a good few hours, so he simply grit his teeth and continued. “Let’s sit down.”

He set Fluttershy down on the blue sofa, being careful not to strain the stitch any worse than they already had been. Otolo had made a sort of nest in his hair, which had begun to grow out, plucking his hair about and nestling in. She remained firmly in place, despite Ray reaching up to try to brush her off. He was about to step away, when Fluttershy wrapped a hoof around his hand, looking up pleadingly to him. With a small smile, he complied, seating himself next to her. She instantly leaned against his left shoulder, still holding his hand.

“So, what happened,” she asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Ray chuckled sardonically, brushing his hand through her mane as he answered with a strained voice, “No.”

“Alright,” she responded, turning to look up. “Mind explaining.”

“Well, Skalos hadn’t shown up for two days, and on the second, I’d gone to find Applejack to see what she needed me to do. I did find her, with Apple Bloom, and tried to ask, but before I could get started, Skalos showed up and told me we needed to head to Tartarus.” Ray paused, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what was to follow. “We did go down there, using something that Skalos called a Sunport, and he told me that if things there couldn’t be resolved peacefully, there may be a civil war.” He felt Fluttershy shudder against him, her muscles growing taught in wariness.

“Well, why did they want to fight you,” Fluttershy slowly queried, a fearful vibration to her gentle voice. “Surely it was something you could resolve peacefully, right?”

There was a stab of pain, deep in Ray’s gut, but he knew what he had to say. “Well, these Fallen were claiming that they were being sent to be Equestria’s glorified meat shields, to sate a violent enemy and bloodthirsty tyrant, that being Twilight. They claimed that they had no oath, and that their true punishment was eternal damnation to the bottom of Tartarus, not fighting another war. They felt that they had been mistreated by the Princesses and used, thus justifying their actions. Their leader, Cohin, even proposed that they were in the right to betray ponies who willingly supported their Princesses.”

Ray stopped, not wanting to continue. This was enough said. Surely he could say that they had negotiated and had come to a peaceful settlement of their differences, that there had been no need to worry all along. But the gentle pressing of Fluttershy’s hoof against his arm and her concerned, pleading eyes drew the words from his mouth.

With his voice quivering, he told her, “We, Skalos and I, went to confront the revolutionaries, or the Secessionists, with the majority of the Fallen remaining behind us. They were convinced that they were in the right. Their leader, Cohin was sent to tell us off about how wrong we were to try and force them to fight. They didn’t even propose any negotiations, though I guess I didn’t either. At the end, however, it doesn’t matter, I think that there was no other ending to it than this. Cohin lost his temper, and I think I did too. I called them cowards and murderers, but I don’t think I had any right to do so. They were rather brave to stand against us, being outnumbered and all, and the ideological estrangement. Cohin pulled out a spear and attempted to kill me. Instead, I killed him.”

Fluttershy gasped softly, looking up to him, but Ray was staring away, lost in the memory of his stolen spear stabbing through the head of Cohin, blue blood dripping from the tip. He swallowed as he detailed, “He attempted to stab me with a spear that was roughly twice his size, which seemed to make his grip weak. I was able to turn and steal it from his hooves, although his spear cut through my shirt. It hurt, but the adrenaline seemed to have taken away the pain of the cut. Using the spear, I turned and spun through the movement of stealing the spear, thrusting forward.

“The spear pierced through his forehead, right between his eyes, and out through the middle of his throat, since I was at a slight downward angle. I… didn’t quite know what had happened exactly, so I just… stared. I stared as his misted eyes dimmed away from this world, and just let go of the spear, letting his head stay prepped up against the ground with the support of the very thing that killed him. I left him like that. I killed one of my own Fallen companions because he wanted to simply secure a second chance for his brothers and sisters. I… murdered him.”

“It… it was self defense,” Fluttershy tried to defend him weakly, her voice quivering as she stared with shrunken pupils up at him. “You had to defend yourself, or else you too may have died.”

“There was a mare,” Ray continued heedlessly, his voice cracking in grief. The mare screamed at him, “You killed him!” He gasped in pain as he tried to forget the image of the mare screaming at him, despair and rage and loss, heartbreak breaking his own heart. He couldn’t hold on. The dam within him broke, the one he’d built to stop this very thing, and he began to cry helplessly. His hands tore through his hair as he tried to rid himself of the burning grief in his heart.

He was keenly aware of Fluttershy wrapped around him, of Otolo tentatively nuzzling the side of his cheek, but neither comforted. They didn’t see the mare, hear her yelling, her pain. Would she kill herself out of the pure despair he’d heard in her voice? Would he be killed for the killing of one of the Fallen? It would fit appropriately. His fate, death for death.

Suddenly, something was smothering him, pressing into his face, drowning out his crying and tears. He opened his eyes to find Fluttershy pressing her head into his, pushing him back against the couch as she pinned his mouth shut. For a minute, he was confused, but he soon realized that she was hugging him the hardest she possibly could. She pressed the full weight of her body onto him, her limbs wrapped around his neck tightly enough to practically choke him. Ray hiccuped against her, feeling regretful for spreading his own tears into her flawless fur. She didn’t deserve this, to share his grief, to try to console him. He didn’t deserve her love, but he couldn’t refuse it, so instead he simply endured the hug, calming down slowly.

Even when he was completely done crying, his hiccuping subsided, she continued to hug him, and slowly, he wrapped his arms around her as well, bringing in closer. She folded in his grasp, rolling up almost into a ball to fit into a cradle like grip hold, until she at last retracted from behind his head. She stared into his eyes, her own glistening with tears, wet streaks down her face as she looked up at him, emerald eyes more captivating and addictive than any drug. Slowly, she leaned up, her lips puckering, eyes closing. She was going to kiss him, and he was going to let her kiss a monster.

No he wasn’t.

Ray turned his cheek, closing his eyes as a different pain, the pain of loneliness filled him. Fluttershy’s kiss landed softly on his cheek. Almost instantly, he could tell that she realized she hadn’t hit her target, pulling back and looking up at him in shock. She’d just offered herself to him, offered up her love for him, and he’d rejected it. They both knew it was what they wanted, but unfortunately, Ray had realized that this wasn’t what she needed. He had to stop pretending this was some sort of Beauty and the Beast story. He was a monster from the moment he drew blood by cracking another kid’s skull open on a doorknob, and there was no denying his nature of destruction. He wouldn’t allow her to fall victim to the beast that resided within him, the instinctive killer.

“I’m sorry,” Ray apologized, his voice husky as he tried to choke down his emotions. “But I can’t let you do something that will hurt you. You should go.”

There was a pregnant silence that filled the room as Fluttershy scanned his face. Slowly, her face softened from the shock that had been prevalent in her eyes, as she surprisingly smiled softly in almost understanding. Without warning, she leaned forward again, this time pressing her lips against his forehead, causing him to shudder at the soft touch of her lips.

As she leaned back, she told him, “Okay, I’ll go now. Just sleep well. We need to let your wound heal.”

She hopped off of the couch, and almost strutted to the door, tail swishing. Why was she so happy? What had he done that made her so happy? And why was he… smiling as she walked out the door?

Slowly, he began to realize why she was so content with herself. She had been there to listen, help if she could. The very fact that he had let her kiss him, twice nonetheless, was enough for her. She had listened, and she had tried to comfort him in the only she knew how, and strangely enough, it worked.

He was so confused, he just sat there. Shouldn’t she at least be disgusted by him, by what he’d done. She should be horrified by the murder of another creature, and that the murderer was sitting right beside her?

Of course she wasn’t, he thought, chuckling almost with relief. She was Fluttershy, and no matter how much he hated himself, how much pain he was in, she still cared for and helped him. The laugh turned hopeless. Naive mare. But, then again, was she naive?

Sure, she might not have the full picture or what was going on, but she had never seemed naive to him. If anything, he now felt naive around her. Yes killing him was bad, but wasn’t he also attempting to kill him? Was he not supposed to defend and preserve himself so that they could fight and win this war. Was it better, even, for one stallion to die that Ray could live and lead more to life? Was it better to kill to save others? After all, that was what he was going to do to win the war. Kill enough minotaurs to defend the maximum amount of ponies.

Slowly, he felt himself come to a tenuously peaceful resolution. Yes, killing Cohin was bad. However, it was no worse than having to kill a minotaur to protect the ponies. Cohin proposed war, and Ray proposed peace. When he tried to enact his way, Ray enacted his. Ray’s was stronger. Jaw clenching, he remembered the mare crying, remembered her desperate, heartbreaking cry.

There would be lots of pain. He would cause lots of pain. That was okay. For all the pain he would cause, it’d allow for more joy, more life for the ponies of this land, the innocents. That was enough. That was the justification he needed. He was going to kill people, lots of them. That was fine. That was his job.

His job was to kill.

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