Equestria's Ray of Hope

by The_Darker_Fonts

The Bloody New World

There was something serene about the way the wind blew across Ray’s back, his hair fluttering across his eyes now and then. It almost seemed to be attempting to relieve him from the blazing sun, actively staving off the heat. The golden grass at the top of the hill brushed against his calves, feeling like regular, healthy grass in spite of their sickly appearance. It tickled slightly, the edges of their golden blades softly dragging across the skin of his leg, sentimental to the touch. They reached for him, grasping him in what felt like an attempt to prevent him from taking these steps forward, to stop him from looming over the edge of the hill.

Down below, one large body of minotaurs was forming up, a group that looked small compared to the forces amassed behind him, but an army nonetheless. Ray’s grip tightened, his teeth grinding as his eyes swept over the breadth of their ranks, attempting to understand their strategy. Frankly, it looked as if they were simply lining up in a square-shaped formation, the edges were horrendously rounded. Perhaps it was because of the suddenness of the Fallen’s landfall, or perhaps it was simply that the minotaurs themselves did not care for war tactics, but they were more ragtag in formation than the Fallen had been on day one. Still, minotaurs were an enigma of a foe so far, their tactics and mannerisms foreign and unknown to his army.

In spite of their disheveled formation, they at least seemed to be perfectly content in holding their ground, refusing to advance up the hill or retreat to the top of the hill behind them. Given, it was probably too late for their retreat, but not even one of the minotaurs seemed to falter as Ray and the very front line of his army appeared on the rim of the hill they faced. There wasn’t even one retreating from the battle to spread the news, the open slopes and plains around them remaining barren of individual minotaurs. It was nerve-wracking, the sheer determination the minotaurs were showing at the sudden appearance. Ray decided to credit their deftness over their bravery for his own sake, though he would be lying if there wasn’t something to learn from their presentation itself.

Glancing left of the force of gathering, he saw their camp, a much larger but equally disorganized assortment of tents much like the one at the gap. There were still a few hundred minotaurs rushing from the tents to join the left wing of the force. Scrunching his brow, scanning the terrain beyond it, he found that they were pitched against nothing but an open plain, and by what he had seen on the beachhead, he formulated a quick plan. They needed to ensure a swift, perfect victory that finished wiping the minotaurs from the Fallen’s landing zone. In order to do that, the minotaurs had to not only be defeated, but completely eradicated. The longer it took for their enemies to send reinforcements to the area, the more time the Fallen had to establish themselves and recover from the damage of this first fight.

Turning over his right shoulder instantly to Skalos, dutifully by his side, Ray ordered shrewdly, “Prepare forces for a five wave side-sweeping attack. I want all three infantry divisions seamlessly in line on this hillside. Each wave will be connected to the waves of the other divisions. The waves will launch after the one ahead of it is halfway down the hill. No mercy, no prisoners. Have our messenger brigade spread the message. Archery divisions will march around this hill to the right and move to intercept any retreat attempts. Yarem and Kraven will command their archers as they see fit, but same conditions as the infantry. No prisoners, no mercy.”

“Understood, sir,” Skalos snapped, before turning around and pushing past several spears to reach the messenger brigade’s leader and give the orders.

In the meantime, Ray looked up from the front line, to the Fallen all around him. They stood there, by the thousands upon thousands, gleaming spears strapped to their sides, jutting out into the air. They had never looked like this before, a swarm of battle-ready, deadly mares and stallions, their eyes hard set upon the open space before them. Many of them couldn’t see their enemies like the frontline could. Some seemed nervous, others simply mouthed prayers or curses, and some looked almost emotionless, staring hard at the head in front of them. The sounds of marching and clanking metal had ceased, the light breezes and heavy breathing not nearly enough to fill the silence. Ray needed time to let the orders pass through the lines, but the Fallen needed something during that time that would keep them from cracking. Realizing what had to come next was inevitable, Ray let out a sigh, planting the sharp butt of his spear into the sturdy dirt, the loud crunch gathering the attention of those who weren’t already distracted by his giant frame of their horizon.

“Fallen, we have come a very, very long way from home, haven’t we? For years, you have been preparing for this moment, knowing the inevitability of it, knowing that one day, you would find yourselves bravely on the shores of a new land. For years, you have built the skill, determination, and brotherhood between you and your fellow Fallen that would allow you to become the army Equestria needed. For years, all you have done is to help protect Equestria and the innocent ponies that reside there, the joy and harmony that resides there.

“But today is not about them, my friends. Today isn’t about the years you have spent preparing for this day or about the ponies who you will protect with these brave actions. Today is about redemption, fulfillment, and most importantly, commitment. To hell with the world that we left. To hell with expectations and treaties, to agreements of the distant past and promises of the future. To hell with continuing to be seen as the saviors of Equestria. The wishes of the entire world are with us in heart, but today, here and now on this hill, they mean nothing. Today, here and now on this hill, is about us, about every single one of us Fallen.

“Today, we cast off the titles that Equestria gave us, the names they thought gave us power or made us more than we were. We are Fallen! We are warriors and soldiers of our own accord, a force that will be reckoned with on this world and honored in the other. There shall be no mourning of our sacrifice, no woeful wailings of our losses, and no memorials to our lost lives. We live! We live today of our own accord, fighting and dying as only we could have ever wished! We live, kill, and die today to prove ourselves as individuals, a people long forlorn and forgotten becoming the legendary force we always have been. There is no other option but war, no other path but violence, and no other outcome but victory!”

Ray had intended to say more, his heart swelling and his mouth filled to the brim with what he wanted to tell the Fallen, to congratulate them and encourage them even further, but the roaring of their cheers drowned them out. The silence shattered to the cheers and war cries of seventeen thousand Fallen, their spears bristling in eager anticipation. The wind whipped through them, their restless feet wishing to carry them with the torrent of air as the cold dread and gall of battle melted with the rallying of the Fallen. Raising his kharamh above his head, he cried, “For the Fallen!”

A tumultuous uproar was his response, thousands of voices all raising to echo the words that escaped him, heeding them without worry. The Fallen, his friends and closest family, were devoted to him, and as he turned to face the foe again, he let the power of his army course through his veins. It fed him, his very blood boiling over with the power and loyalty of the people he had come to call his own. He didn’t need any magic, he didn’t need any other control, and he didn’t need the Spectre. He had his people, the people mixed and misfit, torn asunder by their mistakes and patched together by their creed. And they had him, their general, the ruler, Ray the Fallen.

With all of the pent-up rage he felt, the vindication he felt at these minotaurs beneath him that would dare threaten the innocent world, he shouted senselessly, charging down the hill. His feet thundered, his hair whipped in the wind, and the army behind him rose up and followed after their general. In spite of his larger legs, they were much better equipped for such a charge, and with the rush of might that had been pumped into them, the Fallen descended once again, rolling down the slopes of the golden hill to fall upon their enemies.

In only a matter of seconds, the first wave was at his side and slowly overtaking him, their elite equine bodies faster and more easily able to handle the descent at full speed. Still, Ray pushed himself to stick with Skalos and the first wave as they rushed to battle. The thundering of hooves filled the air, but even that became merely a background drumming to the absolute fury that was the Fallen’s battle cry, a howling of more voices than he had ever heard before. His eyes locked onto the minotaur’s front; he felt a strange joy in watching the minotaurs begin shifting nervously at the rush of soldiers.

A second cry joined the midst as behind him, Ray heard the second wave led off and charged downhill. It was the only indication Ray had that the first wave was halfway to their destination, the building charge relieving the participants of all concepts of time. Nevertheless, Ray remained fervent, even as the gap between him and the first wave began to broaden significantly. While it did separate him from the protection of being in a group charge, it was to be expected and planned for. Even if he arrived at the same time as them, he would simply have been targeted because of his unique size and appearance compared to the rest of the Fallen. If he was lucky, he would arrive before the second wave, allowing him some desperately wanted solo action.

However, from behind the lines, he was able to watch acutely as the first wave made their approach, the distance between them and the minotaurs miniscule. Ray watched with anticipated pants for air as he charged, knowing what was coming next as the Fallen swiftly closed the margin between Fallen and minotaur. Even with the rapid approach of the first wave, the minotaurs held ever firm, attempting not to budge an inch at the impending wall of spears. Inevitably, there was nothing left to do for them but bunch together, axes and swords and spears clutched defensively, staring the force head-on.

Even as he ran, Ray smirked at what it would mean for them.

Only some ten paces from the minotaurs’ lines, a shrill whistle echoed across the golden plains, a death note to all of the minotaurs on the line. In the blink of an eye, the Fallen suddenly slanted left, their spears turning from the minotaurs directly in front of them to their neighbors. Half a second after the sudden direction change, before any of the minotaurs could react to the shifted attack angle, the Fallen crashed into the enemy.

The sickening sounds of bones crunching and metal grating filled the air as suddenly the minotaur forces found themselves being struck from the side, being swept across the front like water through a gate. Minotaurs were impaled from their right by the orderly attack, killed before they could react and left with nothing but dead and broken soldiers. Howls and shrieks of pain mixed with the constant drumming of the charge, minotaurs being flung left and right as their bodies were removed from the spears of the first wave. Minotaurs that hadn’t been stabbed directly were far and few between, all of which were simply trampled by the crushing charge of the first wave. As swiftly as the first wave had struck, they were leaving, running from the middle out to their left or right, finishing off any minotaurs that dared remain in their destructive path.

The Fallen cleared out completely just in time for Ray to arrive, his own charge a solo follow up to the crippling damage the first wave had brought. A few of the minotaurs noticed Ray’s advance, stepping over the dozens of corpses left in the wake of the Fallen to challenge the singular soldier. Ray himself had to navigate over a few of the minotaurs, the reach of the Fallen’s first wave at cutting several soldiers deep into the minotaur’s lines. Still, a few dead minotaurs couldn’t keep Ray away from his target.

The first minotaur to challenge Ray wielded a crude, blunt axe. The beast attempted to rush Ray, raising its weapon as the human jabbed the spear several times at it, slowing its movements down. Having the minotaur exactly where he needed it, Ray jabbed to its side, twisting the spearhead so that the hook at the base of the point was behind its leg. The minotaur, not realizing the maneuver was intentional, raised its axe high in preparation for a lethal downward strike. Before it could bring down its weapon, Ray ripped the kharamh backwards, the hook catching the back of the minotaur’s leg and taking it off at the knee. Collapsing beneath its own weight, it was now at the perfect level for Ray to jab his weapon straight through the minotaur’s chest. Putting all of his weight into the kharamh, he launched it through the flesh and bone of the beast, feeling the muscles and tendons give as he impaled his foe.

Ray didn’t have the time to wait, ripping the kharamh out of the dead minotaur without care, spraying blood across himself and the battlefield. He didn’t have the time to inspect his kill, a duo of minotaurs approaching him with malicious roars. One was closer than the other thanks to the way the bodies around the human lied, giving him time enough to deal with it first. Knowing the only way to incapacitate the minotaur before the second one was a threat, Ray swung his kharamh like an axe, hook prioritized. The minotaur moved to block the attack with its sword, but it was too close at this point to effectively block the hook. Instead, its sword clanged against the shaft of the kharamh while the hook proceeded into its shoulder, sinking all the way in.

The beast howled in pain, but Ray disregarded it, pulling the kharamh with him as he took a step backwards, ripping a long gash down the minotaur’s entire right arm and splitting its hand. The force of the pull brought the minotaur to its knees before Ray, the beast grasping its spliced limb desperately. Without a second though, Ray whipped the shaft of his kharamh up, striking the minotaur in the head with the solid metal pole. Something like that sound of a watermelon breaking echoed dully from the minotaur’s head as it snapped back, a spurt of blood spraying from its nose as its skull split.

Ray stumbled backwards a step, barely managing to block the close-range strike of the second minotaur’s sword, the hasty block sending both off-balance. The minotaur’s momentum carried it past the human a few steps, but it managed to ward off a quick jab from Ray. Both parties balanced themselves quickly, but Ray now had the advantage with the minotaur unable to strike him without risking an easy kill. Regardless of the fact, though, the minotaur brazenly lashed out at him, sweeping its mighty axe horizontally as if to take Ray’s head. The foolish maneuver ended with half of his kharamh sticking through the minotaur, lunging into the beast, its axe dropping from its hand as it slumped forward.

Facing away from the minotaur army, Ray found himself staring down his allies charging only a few dozen feet away. As he had quickly come to realize, he did not have any time to observe, simply kicking the minotaur’s fresh corpse from his weapon. Hearing the snorts of a minotaur much too close for his liking behind him, he thrust the butt of his kharamh behind him. Almost perfectly, he felt it sink into the flesh of a minotaur, a squeal of pain echoing the success of his guess. Keeping one hand firmly on the body of his weapon, he spun around it, facing the minotaur that had attempted to strike his turned back. With a satisfying grunt, he drove the butt all the way through it, soaking the last dry metal of his weapon in minotaur blood with a crunch.

In time with this minotaur’s death, the second wave struck, the minotaur’s lines still attempting to form. If the first wave had been devastating, then the second wave’s strike was fatal, dealing the killing blow to any hopes for the minotaur’s to resist. On the front lines himself, he was able to watch as the minotaurs were trampled, each one earning at least three different spear strikes as the Fallen charged through. He watched with strange contentment as the minotaurs nearest to him fell backwards, stabbed, gashed, or crushed by the charge. They seemed to be cut down before they were even able to raise their weaponry, the deadly speed at which the Fallen struck crippling their ability to deal any damage.

Then, the lines broke, vanishing completely in some places as Fallen charged completely through the minotaur’s. There was mild confusion at first as they suddenly faced completely open land instead of more enemies, but the effectiveness of the first and second waves had dissolved the minotaurs. All around Ray lay dead, and realizing the fighting was done where he stood, he looked around him, scanning the field of battle. His breath caught, the concern of how many of his allies he might find dead around him. The more he searched, though, the more he only found red blood and hairy corpses, dead minotaurs blanketing the ground. His heart began to pound, worried his eyes were deceiving him, but no, there were no dead Fallen.

Slowly, he let out a breath, looking around him further to his left. There still seemed to be some fighting a few hundred feet away, but the mass of Fallen and dust kicked up by it confused what he saw. Panting, he planted his kharamh’s butt into the patch of clear soil he stood on, unable to do anything but stare at his surroundings.

It was done now.

For weeks, he had done nothing but think about how it was inevitable, a subtle doubt in the back of his mind begging the question of if today would ever come. Even sinking those ships, or charging the beachhead, or charging down the hill, there was still the subtle feeling that he would wake up from it all. Now, he stood, bloodsoaked and weary, four minotaurs killed in front of his eyes by his very hands, their dying breaths brushing his cheek and their blood on his hands. From the feel of it, he noted, it wasn’t only on his hands. Sighing, he leaned against his kharamh, still catching his breath from the exhilaration of combat, the effort of everything he had just done draining. In the distance, the last of the retreating minotaurs were suddenly trampled by the third wave, ending the battle with finality.

Author's Note:

And so we see the true face of our story. I probably should have left it rated M, but at this point it feels unnecessary. Besides, M is reserved for gore, porn, and f-bombs, so it'll be fine. As always, though, questions, comments and concernswelcome and wanted.

Comments

[AgentKorpsman]

Wait a minute so no fallen died or had casualties? Only minotaurs had casualties

[The_Darker_Fonts]

11461959
Well, from what we can collect thus far. Given, chapters soon to come will clarify. This one was mostly to introduce our characters to combat and you readers to how the Fallen fight.

[AgentKorpsman]

11462019
Ah gotcha.

[The_Darker_Fonts]

11462129
Yeah, Ray's perspective is of only a few hundred combatants, not the thousands. Still, it hints at what might be seen elsewhere.

[AgentKorpsman]

11462251
Uh huh