Equestria's Ray of Hope

by The_Darker_Fonts

Camping

“Now you be safe, ya hear,” Applejack demanded, patting down the last blanket into a green backpack that had been built for him.

Ray smiled and nodded, teasingly saying, “Oh c’mon now, AJ. I’ve faced beasts, enemies, and even Discord! What’s a little snow and ice gonna do to me that they haven’t?”

“With an attitude like that, kill ya,” the mare stated matter-of-factly, pushing the packed burlap bag over to Ray. “Here, this one’s finished. Are ya sure ya don’t want a tent? It seems kinda… reckless.”

“That’s the point,” Ray asserted, causing the mare to turn back to him with an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow. Shaking the stare off, he clarified, “Not like that. I’m not gonna go be stupid and jump off a cliff or go swimming in some frozen lake. The whole point of this and the reason Skalos approved of it was to test my metal out in the wild. Out there, in the minotaur lands, we have no clue what life is like, the terrain, climate, or flora and fauna. All we know is that it’s more than likely that, at some point, we’ll have to abandon a camp, either advancing or retreating, and if I can do it myself, I can definitely do it helping other Fallen.”

“Well, alright,” Applejack hesitantly agreed. “Couldn’t ya have waited fer spring, at least? It’s still single digits in th’ nights, an’ up on some mountain, prob’ly in th’ negatives.”

“We don’t have time to spare, anymore,” Ray responded, packing his cotton sleeping bag tightly against the few other supplies held within the pack. This one was bigger and stored his limited water and food supply. While the whole point of the trip was survivability in new and potentially dangerous terrain, it would be equally humiliating and terrible if he were to accidentally be injured, or worse die, on this camping trip. To him, the aspect of danger in the trip didn’t really seem too threatening, and in fact gave more confidence in himself to be able to handle such activities. They had spent almost a month of on and off preparation, which included the sewing of the two packs and making of a bigger, thicker sleeping bag that would easily be compressed into the packs.

“Besides, I wanted to be tested, to be forced to try,” Ray added as he tapped his food supply. “Even bread would be a bit too generous for a trip like this. Most likely I’ll have some sort of food, sure, but I need to be able to handle myself without it so when I have it is more of an advantage than a bare minimum.”

“Yeah, but how in th’ hay do ya ‘spect to find some food out in th’ middle a’ winter,” Applejack questioned, shaking her head. “I still don’t understand yer reasonin’...”

“That’s for me to worry about, and I already have a plan,” Ray replied easily, clipping the top closed. With a heft, he pulled it onto his shoulders, glad for the winter jacket Rarity had stitched up for him. He had started the winter without one, and because of a combination of strange human dimensions and the “creative process”, he hadn’t received it until after his little trip to the Harkening. Glancing up at the clock in the Apple’s kitchen, he gave a little startled gasp, exclaiming, “Gah, 7:13! I gotta get going, AJ, but thanks for all of your help!”

“No prob’em,” the mare responded kindly, handing over the pack she had finished stuffing. “Just please, fer th’ love a’ horseapples don’t do anythin’ stupid or get hurt.”

“Trust me, I intend to have as much fun with this as I am using it for training, so getting injured is not on the checklist,” Ray assured her, turning bent over to leave through the small doorway.

“Well then, have a good time of it,” Applejack called after him as he left. He nodded thankfully at the expressment, waving goodbye before closing the door, stepping into the snow.

Shivering slightly at the chill, he looked up at the overcast clouds and sighed. If it was dark and gloomy only a few hundred feet above him, the mountains would probably be in an all out blizzard. Welp, I signed myself up for this, he surmised, turning and beginning to walk down one of the lanes of bare bark apple trees. The winter had really done a number on the orchard, leaves gone and several branches broken off of every tree, leaving them looking like something out of a horror show. Shaking his head at the thought, he carefully stepped through the snow towards the lake, which was now frozen completely thanks to the cold days and frigid nights.

Cresting the familiar hill, he found himself staring a little at the view ahead of him. The forest beyond the Everfree was tamer, but not tamed by ponies, meaning that for the most part, the forest and animals grew wild. For some reason, even though it was calmer, it received less attention than the Everfree and even less visitors, meaning that the wild animals would have their guard up. Whatever animals that weren’t hibernating, that was, and from what he knew, there were very few of those. Rubbing his bare hands together for warmth, he scouted out what he could of his trajectory.

He was on his own now, officially, so each and every choice was his to make, and with a soft smile, he chose to walk the several miles to and up the mountains, as far up as he could. Shaking out his arms, he began jogging, the backpacks jostling with his movement as he descended the hill and towards the opposite side of the lake. He had to circle it, knowing that the center of the lake would only have a thin layer of ice, but seeing as it was still rather diminutive, he didn’t mind the extra time or distance.

Thanks to the constant training and work out he had endured over the past six months, he had slowly built up both stamina and muscle. The changes had been unnoticeable at first, but slowly had become more and more muscular, to the point to which he no longer recognized himself as he was, twiggy and lanky. He was nowhere near bodybuilder level, but as Skalos had told him, it was best to have muscles that fulfilled their purpose and didn’t just look good. He had also grown more, and by his best guesses, he was about five ten now, something like three or four inches taller than he had been just a few months ago on his birthday. Or at least he thought. He could barely remember it now.

Along with his taller features, he felt his body finally fill itself in, his jaw setting and his voice deepening ever so slightly. In spite of being in a completely different world, a universe away from his birthplace, he had still undergone the human process of puberty. It was still going on, he knew, but for all intents and purposes, this was him now, four inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. It was strange to notice his growth, but even stranger when others pointed it out with surprise.

Just a few days ago he had been talking to the CMC when suddenly Scootaloo exclaimed that he looked bigger. It was then that he had checked his weight and height to find that, to his surprise, he was bigger. Taller and heavier than he ever had been. Thanks to the very limited amount of food he had on Earth, he usually maintained a weight around one o’ five, but now that he had virtually as much food as he could eat in Equestria, he was able to gain much of the weight he had been missing out on. Because of his training, the food had turned into muscle, and what little didn’t put a little more meat on his bones. For once, he couldn’t see his own rib cage through his skin.

It was a bit unusual in the most welcome way, and the more he noticed it, the harder he worked to maintain and advance it. Whether that was cocky or not, he didn’t know, but he knew that had he returned to his world, he would have been called one of the jocks. Weird as it was to think of himself like that, he couldn’t deny how good it felt to finally have a full stomach and firm body that didn’t nearly get blown off by the wind in the alleyways.

His mind briefly revisited those dirty, wet streets behind stores and houses, the darkness and grime they held in them. The memories. Pittsburgh in December. Ray took a deep breath in, allowing flashes of those events to run through his head, each death as brutal and deserved as the next. It didn’t matter now, it didn’t matter worlds away. It was his past. This was his present. Focus.

Ray pushed himself a little harder, his feet thumping against the ground a little faster as his heart beat a little quicker. Skalos had taught him, had burned into him, how to rid himself of those thoughts, to let them start and then cut them away quickly. He had to think of something else in those moments, something incredibly happy or incredibly sad, but not something about him. He couldn’t afford to think of himself as at fault when others relied on him to get them through the thick of it. He had to focus on his heartbeat, to make it match the tempo of his footsteps. It’s why running was such a good way to force him into other thoughts, forcing his heart to pump quicker and him run faster.

Breathing in the sharp air deeply, he held it even as he sprinted over the leaves of the forest, the fallen down and rotting logs. He focused on keeping the breath in him until a particularly rough step forced the air out of him. He was panting, the backpacks slapping against his back as he dashed around trees, rocks, and whatever other obstacles the forest provided. He was moving quicker than he ever had, his blood shooting through his veins, red hot and boiling with the intense focus of exercise. He swerved around a tree, ducking his head to avoid a branch, lept over a stone and into a pile of collected snow, scattering it. He felt the warmth of his movement constructed by the sharp cold splash of the snow across his face as he entered the clouds, the snow and icy mist that it consisted of chilling yet serene. He slowed slightly here, jogging to avoid reckless collision with anything that may be hiding within the mist. He couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, and occasionally the odd branch tugged at his shoulder length hair or slapped against his chest, but otherwise he continued undeterred.

Letting his breath out once again, he came to a sudden rise that contrasted the gentle slope upwards from the base of the mountain. Coming to a slow stop in front of the large shadow, he stepped towards it, reaching a hand out and pressing it against the wall. It was cold to the touch, maybe even colder than the air around him, and leaning in, he saw that it was simply a small rocky face that rose upwards past his limited vision. Looking beside him, he realized that it continued into the the mist, and with a confused hum, he followed it, his hand steadily brushing the frosted stone.

He continued following it until he was suddenly in between two faces of rock, one to his right and one to his left. They were far enough apart that he couldn’t reach either standing in the middle of them, and as he explored the strange crevice, he found several sprouting trees barely poking out of the snow built up between the faces. It was unnatural for certain, strange ridges running vertically along the entire face, and, looking closely at the stone, it was slightly blackened, as if it were burnt. Frowning at the stone, he turned and checked the one behind him, finding it to be the same there as well. It only took a mild amount of thinking to realize that, more than likely, this was a scar left in the land from some magical duel not too long ago.

Everything here was unnatural, but somehow still completely set in the world as it was. There was an aura that sent a warm strike of lightning through him, past the chill of winter and snow. It was a subtle realization that the thing that caused this, the deformation of a peaceful, untouched forest removed it of its innocence through an evil attack. Tirek, as far as he knew or could guess, but it might have been any of the other powerful mages the ponies had been forced to face over the past few years. It was disheartening to see the destruction, to come upon it so close to the place where ponies dwelled and the land they left to the wild creatures.

Shaking his head sadly at the sight, he retracted his hand from the stone, the feeling of the cold stone ridges a phantom on his fingertips. Looking around once again at the minute valley fabricated from artificial destruction, he furrowed his brow, frowning. He knew instantly that this would be where he would set his small camp up, in between walls of hewn stone and on burnt ground bandaged by snow. Using his foot to brush aside some of the snowdrift that had built up, he set his backpacks down, stretching out his arms as he circled the small area to keep his muscles warm.

Thinking back to when he had left, he guessed it had probably been almost three hours of consistent running. Probably seven or eight miles then, he figured, accounting for the climb upwards. It was weird to think that he had been able to go the entire journey in one single run when, three months ago, he could barely maintain a full sprint across the entire plain in the Harkening. A testament to his and Skalos’ work over the past few months, with credit to those previous months that had set him up for success. It was equally encouraging and challenging to bring awareness to his growth, forcing him to realize that he could still get better than he already was.

“And that’s scary for whoever we fight against,” Garish had commented when Ray had told him about it. While for the most part Ray had stayed in Pelios’ house, he had spent a good deal of his time with the sub-captain of a newly formed division of four hundred and fifty spears. It was formed from mostly new spears that had transitioned from swords, but thanks to the red stallion’s experience and his likable, if cocky, nature, he had been able to become both a cherished and respected leader of the group.

All in all, the army of Fallen had undergone several major and minor reforms in the past few weeks. It had all been initialized during the week he had stayed with them, as he and Skalos, with the assistance of several other Fallen of various ranks, noted flaws in the structure or areas that needed to be more concrete in their makeup. Overall, it had been a rejuvenating process that had left the army more cohesive, with either new divisions being formed or older, smaller divisions being dissolved into larger groups where it was deemed fit.

A large reason for the relative decay in the system was how old it was, with some individuals forgetting their ranks or positions and certain divisions being almost completely forgotten in general. Thanks to guidance from the generals of the Fallen, however, they now had a five main armies that formulated the Fallen, three divisions of spears and two of bows. While he was the Commander-in-Chief of them all, each army had its own general and compositional units. The main spear army consisted of five thousand Fallen, commanded by Skalos, divided into five waves of one thousand, each thousand having two ranks of five hundred individuals commanded by an officer.

The other two armies of spears had four thousand Fallen respectively, each also consisting of four waves of nine hundred divided into two units of four hundred and fifty, with a supporting unit of the remaining four hundred for defensive attacks if one of the waves were to need assistance. The two armies of bows had two thousand Fallen each, divided into four blocks of five hundred bows. The remaining twenty Fallen were the messengers, and with their contribution, the entire army could send communications through the divisions and ranks within ten minutes. Combined, the army was an organized, unbeatable machine in their own eyes, able to move strategically and effectively. The combined fifty five divisions: five armies, thirteen subdivisions, and thirty six units, and a messenger brigade. On paper, and in sight, it looked large, but every time he ran the numbers through his head, he felt slightly dismayed by the reality of his situation.

By the end of this war, he would be lucky to have a singular intact unit.

Shaking away the disturbing thoughts, he focused on his work, realizing that he had been subtly cleaning out the snow from his surroundings and leveling an area for himself. While he didn’t have a tent to place in the area, he figured it would be as good a place as any to settle his sleeping bag and packs, if a little damp. The thought prompted him to continue brushing away the loose, cold soil until he hit the solid, frozen ground beneath. In spite of the chill it brought to his hands, he continued with the process until he had cleared a large enough space that he could walk around in.

Smiling at his work, he placed his packs on the dry ground and began to set the dirt as a small, makeshift wall on either side of him that wasn’t blocked out by the stone walls. The snow had stopped sometime during his clearing process, and though the clouds remained set all around him, he decided it was probably the best time to go searching for sticks for a fire. In spite not feeling cold yet, he knew that would change soon, and if not then, certainly once dark had set in. Most of the wood would be moist anyways, but luckily he had learned a thing from his time on the farm.

Venturing out from the crevice in the mountain side, he searched the surrounding terrain for large sticks, of which there were many either buried in snow or simply dusted with it. He took as many of the sticks as possible, an idea formulating in his head as he carried them back towards the camp. Many were longer than he was tall, either branches or thin trunks of smaller trees, and thanks to the somewhat sloping angle the cut had made in the mountain, he was able to wedge each branch down into a firm place between the two faces that created something of a roof a few feet above the ground. Using this method, he spent a good amount of time collecting and placing branches until he had a sturdy roof that could, for the most part, keep out the cold. Then, using a bit of mud and smaller twigs, he filled in the little holes until there were none, simply a makeshift roof.

Satisfied with that aspect of his little shelter, he finally acknowledged his frigid hands, and, taking some bark and tiny twigs from along the ground, made a small pile beneath his canopy. He had to sit or crawl to keep from bumping into it, but it was large enough to allow free movement across and build a small fire pit several inches deeper into the ground, using the unearthed soil as a barrier around it. Setting the small wood pieces into the fire pit, he took a small box from within the backpack AJ had packed, a little tinder and a few matches inside, all dry thanks to the protection of burlap.

Stuffing the fluffy, paper-like stuff against the damp bits, he took one of the matches and lit it against the stone wall. Cradling the flame carefully, he held it down near the small pieces, letting it practically sit against the wood until it burnt out, drying it out enough that, when he took a second match to the pile it lit without too much struggle. Working quickly, he added some slightly larger pieces of bark, in a small teepee structure over the small fire that had started, and, as hoped, the flame eventually spread to the drying pieces of bark. Happy with his work, he continued the process until he had a nice little fire going for himself, the smoke filtering out through small little slits he had left for the purpose.

Eventually, the fire died down, though was careful to bury some of the warmer embers within the ash to hopefully retain its warmth while he left to collect more wood. It was as he was leaving that he accidentally brushed against the pack he had brought, and with a somber realization, he reached within and withdrew the bow he had packed, unobserved by any of the Apples.

He hadn’t said a word of what he planned to do while on the trip to anybody but Skalos, and for good measure. Reaching back in, his hand wrapped around a perfectly smooth wooden shaft, and carefully pulling out the arrow, he keenly inspected it. The feathers on the end were a bit crushed from being buried beneath his sleeping bag, but with a little bit of smoothing out, he was able to correct the small amount of damage done. The tip was metal, sharp to a lethal point, unlike the flint arrows they used in the Harkening to practice archery. These were the ones they had been stockpiling ever since the Fallen had received their charge. It was all he allowed himself, one shot to decide the success or failure of this trip. If he missed, he would be forced to admit defeat and return to the Apples the same day he had left. If he was successful, he would have food, strength, and fur to work with.

Admiring the arrow for just a minute longer, he gave his bowstring a quick check to ensure it had received no damage and that the cold wasn’t tightening it. With the confirmation that all was right with his weaponry, he stepped out from his enclosure and into the murky clouds, his eyes scanning his blurred surroundings. With a decisive step forward, he vanished into the mist, allowing himself to be consumed by the cold and dark.

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

The fire crackled softly as Ray chewed on the last of the deer meat, the juicy meat just as fresh as it had been four days prior. In spite of having to bury it in snow to keep it cold and preserved, it hadn’t lowered the quality of food one bit. Interestingly enough, he didn’t have to deal with wolves or other predators like he had worried about. Apparently, either because he was a towering human or because there were none around, he hadn’t heard sight or sound of anything around, save this unfortunate deer he ate.

In spite of his resolve, he had ultimately buried its horns and innards, out of both respect and caution, the worry that he would bring a piece of animal home among ponies would be too delicate to handle. Still, he kept its coat, having cleaned the animal and skinned it. He would ask someone else who knew how to tan to do it, seeing as he both knew next to nothing about the process and had almost no time to do it himself. Still, he wished to at least craft the waterskin, sheath, and handle he planned to use the coat for.

Thanks to the training of Adant, he had loosed a precise arrow, leaving almost no damaging tear in the coat and ending the creature's life in a matter of milliseconds. Said coat was currently stored beneath his sleeping bag, which had his bow and singular arrow atop it. It was a distraction in case Applejack glanced into his pack when he returned, but it also served as a grim reminder to him why he even had the coat to begin with.

Swallowing softly, he took a handful of dirt from beside him and tossed it onto the dwindling fire before stomping on it to finish it off. With a soft sigh of contentment, the last bite of the deer settling into his stomach, he nonchalantly stood up, pushing his shoulders through the roof he had crafted and that had served him well through the days and nights. Stretching out his arms and legs, he pushed the other branches aside, scattering them and eliminating the roof altogether. It was a mundane process, and once it was complete, all that was left was to grab his packs and make his way down the side of the mountain. The clouds had cleared up overnight and had thankfully remained clear into the morning, allowing him to now see the short plain and lake just outside the few miles of mountain and forest he would have to traverse to return home.

Setting off, he shouldered his second pack and set off at a slow jog, a calmness settling over him as he breathed in the sharp air. As far as he knew, these would be his last few hours alone for the rest of his life. It was a thought that may have once given him fear, but now… now it only gave him the subtlest of emotions. These past six months had been undoubtedly the best of his entire life, and by all means, they could be considered the last days of his life. Spring came in one month. Summer came in four. In five, he would be sailing across the seas. It would be his turn to face his fate then, to determine victory or defeat.

So, today was his last day alive, and tomorrow would be his first day consumed by war, by the hope that it would all be worth it. No matter how his life ended, it was his turn to let go of Raymond, once and for all, to allow himself to become the thing that Twilight had seen in him, the person that Skalos saw he would be, and the destroyer of worlds across the sea. Setting his pace faster, he raced down the mountain, streaking through the forest, tossing up snow and leaves and dirt as he went, a furious rushing filling his ears. If all else failed, if he died in the very first battle, if he and his Fallen, his family, were slaughtered, then this was the moment he wanted to see before he died. He wanted to watch as he raced towards the end.

Author's Note:

A bittersweet chapter, this one. I wrote it after learning one of my friends had passed away, so there was a lot of emotion put into it. Also, this is exactly six months to the day of when Ray arrives in Equestria so you don't have to do the math.

Comments

[jasha3558021]

Esto se puso emocionante 😯⭐👍