Equestria's Ray of Hope

by The_Darker_Fonts

Tally

The sunset of the new world was some spectacular beauty that, for some reason, was more spectacular than the ones back in Equestria. The way it gleamed across the golden grasses with a softly shining glow gave the setting sun the impression of the hills being alive with starlight. With the setting sun came cold, which somewhat shocked Ray as he was still pretty sweaty from the effort of returning up the hill, waiting for the Fallen to clear the field. Thanks to the swift and excessive fighting of the day, charging up the beach and hill, then down it, he was feeling the wear of it all as his adrenaline subsided.

Now, fear took hold as he glanced across the battlefield.

It was completely layered with the bodies of minotaurs, many condensed in a thirty foot area considered to be the front lines. There wasn’t a singular minotaur left alive, or at least not that they had discovered. At the moment, some three thousand Fallen from the last two waves that hadn’t seen action were sweeping the field for any survivors and putting them to the spear. His eyes drifted between the slow wave of glowing Fallen and the distant form of the Matriarch and the sea of spiderlings that circled the hole. From what he could tell, the fighting was over and the feasting was done, the Matriarch herself once again joining in the gruesome celebration.

Grunting, he sat himself down on the crest of the hill, finally letting his weary legs rest. Staring out over the dip between hills, Ray finally allowed himself to stare at the left wing of the field, where the most minotaurs were piled up. Amid those bodies, he saw soft glows and shimmers of varied colors, the signs of dead Fallen mingled among the many slain minotaurs. His heart fell further, a grim absolute that had to be fulfilled. The battle couldn’t have gone any better if they had tried, and though he didn’t know or dare guess the number of dead Fallen, it was a slim fraction of what they had dealt. Still, the thought of who they may be burying tonight hollowed him out.

At the very least he knew it was none of the generals, having seen all of them on their various tasks of rounding up their armies and tallying their losses. The two archer armies had seen no action whatsoever, not even having the task of cleaning the field, and were currently establishing a camp in the small plains between the beach hill and the distant hole. Ray was still vastly curious about its purpose, and once the Matriarch and her spiderlings cleared it, he would lead a division to explore and take control of it firmly.

Another division from the fifth wave of Skalos’ army was currently clearing the beachhead of the dead and debris brought on by their violent landing. Whether or not the makeshift port had survived the onslaught didn’t matter, as the plan was to prevent the minotaurs from invading Equestria, and following such orders, both the port and any ships would be destroyed after their complete encampment of the new world. Still, any secretive or otherwise useful information on the beachhead had to be searched out, and there were hopes that perhaps there were some clues in the camp as to whom the minotaurs were commanded by.

One of the shocking mysteries of the minotaurs was a surprising lack of obvious leadership. There was almost nothing to distinguish one minotaur from another, the only variety being in what weaponry their foe wielded. In fact, one of the duties of those fanning the field of battle was to find the least damaged body and bring it back to camp for dissection and studying. There was great curiosity whispered amidst the Fallen already about the strange resemblance between their leader and their foe, the only mammalian bipeds that roamed their world. It was natural for them to ask why the similarities existed, but Ray was both too tired and too preoccupied with his determined mission for such sidetracked curiosities.

A group of fifty or so Fallen walked past his position on the hill, off to help begin the long task of establishing a camp. As signified by the slowly setting sun, they probably were going to be working through the night and the next day before everybody had a place to sleep, let alone all of the accommodations and supplies necessary for a smoothly run camp. After the action today, though, Ray doubted many Fallen would complain about menial labor, given there was much less risk involved with it.

It was obvious the army had suffered losses; there were already several dozen Fallen in mourning over comrades they knew had perished in the battle. Several names had floated around, some of which he recognized, but Ray refused to listen in. He would be in denial of anyone lost until Skalos’ word confirmed elsewise. Unfortunately, he was easily able to pick out the stallion as he talked with Pelios and Harbor, the generals of the other two infantry divisions. There was a small but distinct nod amongst the group and then Skalos turned and left. He began climbing the hill straight towards Ray.

With a deep, steadying breath, Ray stood once again, crossing his bloodied arms as he prepared for the grim news. It didn’t take long for the stallion to be within earshot of Ray, but for some solemn reason, he stayed quiet until he was roughly a foot away from Ray. Oh no, he thought to himself. Someone had died that he knew, perhaps a friend. A quick list of possibilities flashed through his mind, Garish, Gaz, Linium, Pelvis… at least Pelios, Harbor, and Skalos were confirmed to be alive.

“Lordling,” the stallion gruffly greeted, sitting himself down on the stiff ground.

“Skalos, good to see you in one piece,” Ray returned, sitting down as well. There was a pause of silence before the human realized he had to be the one to start the grim conversation, so, dutifully, he asked, “Report? What are the numbers?”

The stallion scanned Ray’s face for a moment, the unsaid but certainly asked question of how bad it was premiating the air. Slowly, Skalos began, “According to the first counts, four thousand, eight hundred and thirty-three minotaurs were slain. That’s not counting the number eliminated on the beach or in the Matriarch’s engagement. Our forces suffered two hundred and eighteen casualties, with one hundred and thirty slightly wounded, forty-six severely wounded… and forty-two fatalities. The only fatalities we suffered were in the Reformed Third Spear led by Captain Rohan in the first wave. A small group were… surrounded and massacred… Captain Rohan among the dead.”

Ray’s heart fell in an instant, recognizing the dead stallion’s name as the first Fallen to greet him in the Harkening. Of all of the names he had thought of, Rohan’s was not one of them… and he felt devastated by it. The captain had respectfully maintained that he would command the Third Spear even as he was offered a promotion to be commander of the Reformed First Spear Division. While not a friend like the others had been, the captain had been instrumental in helping ease tensions after the divisions between the insurrectionists and the loyal forces. Still, as much as the loss stung, Ray breathed it in and let it all out. He would mourn this loss, but he could move on.

Glancing up at his friend, Ray noticed the way Skalos was biting down on his lip, obviously pained by the losses. While Ray had come to know the Fallen over the last year, it wouldn’t surprise him if Rohan was the only name he recognized among their dead. For Skalos and the other Fallen, though, they had lived for over fifteen hundred years together, and the camaraderie between them had been obvious even with their divisions. Reaching out a hand, he patted Skalos’ shoulder, knowing exactly the bitter taste the death would leave in the stallion’s mouth. While a stinging introduction of war to Ray, this was a ravaging reminder for the stallion of what this war would cost them.

“Hey, Skalos, whaddya need,” Ray questioned softly, forcing the silent stallion out of his hollow silence.

Looking up, the Fallen gave the human a pitiful smile, his voice hoarse as he muttered, “I’ll survive.”

“Not what I asked, general,” Ray surmised, taking on his instructive voice. “Take the bodies of our dead and bury them on the slopes of this hill with as many attendees as there wish to be. Then, go and find your wife. I have a feeling you both need each other’s comfort after everything that has occurred today.”

“And what about you, sir,” Skalos asked, daring an upward glance. “Where will you find solace tonight?”

Ray paused, glancing around. Darkness was settling in, the first night on a new world all over again. There were so many new stars in the sky, and so many new sights in the dark terrain. Indeed, the continent boasted a night that rivaled the starry skies and peaceful breezes of an Equestrian night. He may have even considered it better, save it weren’t for the solemn days ahead. Still, he had no better thing to turn to.

“I think I’ll enjoy the night, observe a thing or two. Perhaps learn something new of this continent. Besides, I have many things to organize in very short order. A second battle was fought today that I still need to attend to.”

“That wasn’t an answer to the question I was asking.” Skalos frowned at him deeply as Ray looked back down at him, his eyes torn from the stars. “A night as dark as sharp as this one won’t provide much comfort.”

“Perhaps… It’s the only answer you’ll receive in any case, general,” Ray responded shortly, pushing himself to his knees. “I’ll attend the funerals as soon as I can, however, my attention may be needed elsewhere for the moment. I trust you will give the dead their due diligence and proceed with the utmost honor to them.”

“Of course, sir,” the Fallen replied, reluctant to return to his charge as general. “I’ll begin preparations for the bodies posthaste. We will plan for them to be buried… well, whatever time midnight here is. And what of the minotaur dead?”

“Leave them until the camp is set up,” Ray answered without discretion. “I want to see if their corpses pick up any birds or carrion creatures. It’s uncanny to think you’re the only living creatures out here.”

“Of course, sir,” Skalos dutifully replied. The stallion seemed to have something more to say, but Ray left before he could protest anything else. For both their sake’s, he felt there needed to be a third party involved, someone to serve as a vent for the stallion other than his general. As much as Ray wanted to help his best friend’s troubled state, there was so much more to do in ensuring they were rooted on the continent that he couldn’t give him the time he needed and deserved. With a sigh, the human began to descend this hill and walk towards the hole out across the plains.

The Matriarch had begun to slowly move towards the beachhead once again, seemingly because she had to round up her kin after the feasting. He didn’t doubt that she had picked him out from this distance, but hopefully she wouldn’t make him walk even half the distance to her. His legs were threatening to crumble like brittle sandstone beneath him, aching from so much action after so long cooped up on the boats. His shoulders had also begun to hurt, the result of his violent exchange with the minotaurs. Upon self-examination, he was surprised to find that he was uninjured, simply sore from the action.

In spite of himself, he glanced over his shoulder to where a large number of Fallen were gathering on the hill, their beautiful glowing skeletons glimmering all over the slopes of their first conquest. Wherever his heart had fallen before, it dropped further. He had spent over a year learning to be their general, while at the same time becoming their friend. Now, he had to rein in each of those sides, needing to somehow put duty before the friendships to keep his friends alive, but also somehow keep them as his friends. He had quite unintentionally made the whole war harder for himself in a way that Skalos had attempted to warn him. Ultimately, both of them would pay for it. Ray just needed to make the pain worthwhile.

Sighing, he turned back and stopped dead, a sea of spiderlings racing towards him, the Matriarch looming overhead. As always, the giant spider was a spectacular combination of terrifying and mystifying, her black form like the night itself as it snuffed out the stars above. Eight massive, glowing red eyes peered down at him as he stood at the bottom of the hill, curious and knowing as ever.

“Lordling,” the Matriarch questioned, leaning her head down to him.

“Of course,” Ray answered wearily, hearing the exhaustion in his voice.

“Hm, yes, I see that and more.” The Matriarch paused momentarily, watching her children swarm around them, passing by in a skittering, clicking mass of dark forms and reddish eyes. “Business first though, as you wish. The battle was rather short-lived by my account. There are exactly five thousand dead minotaurs in the depths of the hole, though uniquely, four hundred and fifty-eight of them were long dead before our arrival. I believe it may have been the conditions of their living and working down there. There were a great number of raw minerals in the depths that by my eyes seem to have been plundered and extracted from their home deep in the earth.”

“A mine,” Ray realized with a hushed breath, a hand rising to his face. His thoughts raced, hard pressed with the sudden information the Matriarch brought to him. One task at a time though. “Do you remember how many minotaurs were slain on the beach?”

The Matriarch paused briefly, recollecting the previous fight, before answering, “Seven hundred and eighteen minotaur felled by my children and I. We’ve slain five thousand, two hundred and- “

“Yes, I can do the math,” Ray dismissed thoughtfully. “Can you count the number of dead in the plains that I and the Fallen have killed?”

With a brief glance to the open field, the Matriarch quickly responded, “Five thousand, two hundred and ninety-four dead across the field of battle. None in the camps or surrounding areas. Your soldiers dealt incredibly with the foe and suffered less than a one thousandth of the losses. Most charming indeed.”

“And your casualties,” Ray questioned, still deep in thought.

“Four hundred and… and thirty-four of my spiderlings, including a broodmother,” the Matriarch recalled. Ray eyed the giant arachnid questioningly, the lack of words a first from the World Weaver. Noticing the human’s questioning, the Matriarch quickly explained, “Your lack of focus distracts me, Orphan of the Cosmos. It is rare that you are distracted to the point of coldness. What ails your mind to have such disconnection?”

Ray blinked, looking away from the spider and out towards the darkened landscape. The new horizon. “These numbers, the numbers of the army and whatever that force in the mine were, they have to mean something.”

“Such as,” the Matriarch probed, tipping her head slightly.

“You said there were exactly five thousand minotaurs in the hole, right,” Ray checked. The Matriarch nodded affirmation. “However, both actual forces we faced on the beach and in the battle weren’t nearly so precise. It may be coincidence or not, but I have to guess something about the number in the mines is intentional. Were they armed down there?”

“With equipment for mineral extraction, whatever you call them,” the Matriarch informed.

“You don’t know what mining tools are called,” Ray couldn’t help but question.

“It’s always been a personal belief that the riches buried deep in the earth should be left there, but it has clearly been a singular ideology.”

“Well, we’re going to have to break that personal code of yours.” Ray paused, glancing out over to the hole in the distance. “A mine could be very useful for us depending on what resources we can extract from it. For the moment, though, we can’t send a force down there. The mine’s existence proves that the minotaurs are much more centralized than we had hoped. At the very least, they aren’t just roaming groups of warriors. The fact that they had a port, army camp, and mine all within close proximity of each other just proves both their intentions with Equestria and their organization. There has to be some kind of leader that is ordering these things to be.”

“A chieftain, perhaps,” the Matriarch speculated. “It isn’t surprising that they would follow some elevated member of their society. I suspect that, in the wake of these battles, the minotaurs will tip their hand, so to say. There is a large congregation of them out here, but as far as I can see, there are no others.”

“They probably don’t live this far out, then,” Ray guessed, glancing around at the dark hills. For miles in all directions, there was nothing, no trees, buildings, or even roads. Just endless golden grasses illuminated strangely silver by the waxing moon’s light. “Perhaps that’s what brought about all of this, then. Maybe that’s why Twilight saw the future we disrupted today.”

Ray took pause at that, the slow realization that, indeed, they had prevented the invasion from occurring when it did settling deep within him. They had done it. For now, at least, Equestria would be safe. Now they had to move on, to secure that.

“We’ll need to scout our surroundings quickly,” Ray informed the Matriarch. “Your eyes and children would serve us well in scouting the northern reaches of the continent. My soldiers can be dispatched in small numbers to explore southward. We need to be careful in progressing forward, across the continent in earnest. There’s no way of knowing where our enemy is scattered across the plains and hills. Most likely, given the strange bleakness of our surroundings, they don’t live out here in large numbers.

“I don’t know much about land and fertility, but I’m guessing by the dry grass this is a fairly hot and arid area, not right for permanent dwelling. If we’re lucky, there won’t be any major settlements or camps out here beyond what we discovered here. If we’re extremely unlucky, we’ll find that this is just a small patch of terrain and that we are surrounded by minotaur settlements. Either way, we need maps quickly.”

“My children and I can scout far outwards from here, especially now that we’ve had our feast,” the Matriarch confirmed. “I, too, fear that our surroundings may be filled with traveling bands of minotaur warriors like these. It’s become clearly obvious where their weaponry originates from, this mine most likely one of many, but their forges and smithies were not to be found. Unfortunately, it seems the only trail my eyes could pick up was the one connecting between the mine and encampment. It seems that we won’t find any reasonable connection between these establishments to others.”

Ray sighed deeply, recognizing the work that was ahead of them, beyond simply what was needed to be done to establish a camp. It was one of the nightmares of invading the new, violent continent. They had no way of seeing what was around them, fighting blind in this dangerous territory. As much as they needed the vision, they also had to be extremely careful with the way in which they explored. The fact that their landing had been so easy and efficient would work greatly for their morale, but ultimately it hinted at something that could either be very helpful or very lethal to their cause.

This continent was vast, with either the minotaurs having just discovered this area as an area from which they could travel from or only just now having the capability and intent to do so. Based on the lack of development in even their most established areas, resources out here were scarce, perhaps even unavailable save through transportation. Staring at the starlight grasses, there was almost a taste of emptiness in the way they stretched to the far hills on the horizon. Anything could be out there, but Ray couldn’t say whether he wanted there to be something or nothing. His force, invasive in nature, was incapable of an extended campaign, a threat they had known from day one. Seventeen thousand and twenty had landed on this continent. That was all they had. No reinforcements and no replacements. It gave every death an added sting.

Glancing back up at the inquisitive World Weaver, Ray told her, “I think I need a moment to… process. Tell your children that I and the Fallen found your battling most impressive and most appreciated. We will mourn your dead as you mourn them.”

“We eat our dead,” the Matriarch replied blankly, giving Ray pause. “More accurately, their broodmother eats them so that their body’s energy may be returned into another spiderling kin. Should one fall, it would rather another take its place than return to dust.”

“Then… I guess we will simply observe their deaths with honor,” Ray revised. With a curt, respectful nod, he added, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you, lordling,” the massive arachnid graced, standing back up to her full height. “Do not be dissuaded by the vastness of our task, Orphan of the Cosmos. Your might and my eyes will serve us well in the following battles to come. Congratulations on your first bittersweet taste of victory.”

Ray raised a brow at the Matriarch momentarily, though before anything could be said, she had turned away and begun to take long strides back towards the landing zone. Pursing his lips, he took a look around him. He was at the base of the hill, completely alone save for the Matriarch’s last few legs, though those passed by quickly. It was dark now, the halfmoon providing a quaint amount of silvery light on the strange golden grasses. Breathing subtly, he faced forward and began approaching a hill to his left, opposite of the wide plains to his right that led to the mine.

“How remarkable, the first blood of battle,” the Spectre suddenly whispered in his mind.

“Come to gloat,” Ray questioned testily.

“Of course not,” the Spectre hissed, voice as hollow and dripping as always. “Contrary to your beliefs, I’m cheering you on. Today was your success wholly and I too wish to congratulate you.”

“You’re discrediting my soldiers,” Ray gruffly warned, beginning to ascend the hill.

“Your pawns,” the Spectre corrected with a wicked whisper.

“My friends,” the human snapped harshly, stopping halfway up. “For something that really wants my cooperation, you certainly don’t know how to butter up to me.”

“This isn’t about you being coerced or tricked into trusting me,” the Spectre drawled, a dangerous taint of anger to its words. “Whether you wish to or not, you must acknowledge my correctness. The assertion that I am… an evil entity has already set deeply in your mind. It’s difficult to convince a mortal such as yourself that my intentions are for the betterment of the future.”

“Your future, I’m guessing,” Ray replied sharply. “Besides, when you take me to your dimension, attempt to kill me, and give me a scar for my troubles with vague threats of self-assimilation, I can’t help but come to that conclusion. Your case isn’t helped by the fact that everyone else who knows about you has the same sensible fear and concern of your presence.”

“You come to trust the World Weaver much too quickly,” the Spectre growled. “The demon of the first years was a thoughtless menace to any semblance of creation but reformed herself into some intellectual deity amongst the physical world. Such repulsing actions betray the nature of her existence. It is… disgusting.”

“So you’d cry hypocrite at the World Weaver while still attempting to gain control of me,” Ray inquired, glaring deeply at the unseen foe.

“I did not call her a hypocrite, but she would abandon you the instant any of her false gods told her to. I… I would remain with you through the ages, through the worst even, because I know more than simply heeding the orders of blatantly ignorant beings who control nothing but the worst of the universe. I wouldn’t simply give you my knowledge and power, I would give you-”

“I’m not taking any of your double-edged offers, fiend,” Ray spat. “You’d expect me to believe anything you say blindly simply because you were in my head.”

The Spectre fell silent in an instant, though Ray distinctly sensed its bitter annoyance at his interruption. After a few seconds of deliberate silence, the Spectre finally said, “You are correct, human. I haven’t given you anything to base my truths on. Allow me to demonstrate.”

In an instant, the hill became the same smooth texture Ray had dreaded ever feeling again, his surroundings darkening and becoming the twilight blue of the oblique world. His breath caught as his eyes widened, the terrible place he had been stolen to once already surrounding him completely, terrible sky and all. Worse, though, was that he knew he was standing on the Spectre directly, not even having the illusion of a platform like the boat. His eyes darted across the desolate, empty wasteland that had once been a landscape.

“Oh shit,” Ray muttered as a form suddenly began to form below him on the slopes of the blank hill.

He reached for the kharamh strapped to his back, yanking it out haphazardly, when suddenly the Spectre called out, “No need for a weapon this time. Besides, we both know it can’t harm me.”

Pausing momentarily to consider, Ray slowly latched the weapon back into place across his back. As much as the Spectre was correct, he also realized that he was more likely to survive this encounter if he simply listened to it rather than fight it. The figure became much more real, two legs and arms with a sleek, round head. There were no true features of course, but it was the most formed body he had seen from the Spectre. The illusion didn’t comfort Ray, though. It was disturbing to see the Spectre as if it were one of the practice foes that Discord had trained him with.

“You want concrete proof of what I can do for you, but I cannot give it in your mortal world,” the Spectre explained, its blank face tilting slightly.

“You needed to kidnap me instead,” Ray bit, unable to resist the urge. As suicidal as provoking the Spectre was, something about making this mysterious godlike creature angry gave him simple satisfaction.

“Indeed, though considering your surroundings now are less hostile than that you were in, consider it my gift to you. Now, on to the circumventing truth you so desperately ignored.”

At his words, the surroundings began to morph, though surprisingly in a way that was much different than before. Color animated the hills, the sky suddenly returning to a normal, summer day’s sky. The sun shone light across a golden field, hills a golden backdrop as another character formed itself out of the mist. As it quickly came into detail, Ray found himself quickly disturbed as he watched himself stand up before him.

This Ray was exactly like him, tall, toned, hair long and face… determined. Ray’s throat tightened as he stared into his own eyes, a strange, alien familiarity. The juxtaposition of staring at one’s self.

“What the hell is this,” Ray questioned with a growl, unable to tear his eyes off his own.

“This is you merely enhanced by my assistance,” the Spectre introduced, stepping up to the illusion. It regarded the copy of Ray briefly, before flinging a smooth hand outward. The false Ray turned, a strange glow creeping down his arms like lightning through his veins, the bolts striking the ground. The false Ray suddenly threw his arms up, the ground tearing in the upheaval of an earthquake as huge chunks of soil and stone were ripped from the ground. They flew outwards, scattering across the landscape in explosions of earthy debris wherever they landed. “Imagine what it could do to your enemies. Imagine how many lives you wouldn’t have to give up if this power was in your hands.”

“I imagine a good few would be saved,” Ray admitted, staring at the turned back of the fake him. Then, turning his gaze to the Spectre, he added, “But I also imagine the cost of those powers is much greater than their reward. Whatever twisted motive you may have for me, I’m not budging. I’m not going to be your ‘pawn’, as you put it.”

The Spectre sighed audibly, a strange sound to come from the faceless entity. It crossed its hands behind its back, taking one small step forward as it warned darkly, “I could just keep you here until you were convinced.”

“I could just kill myself,” Ray replied with equal sincerity, whipping out one of his knives and pressing it against his own chest, tip above his heart. “One wrong move and you lose your pawn.”

The Spectre froze, staring in what Ray interpreted as surprise. Its blank face scanned him for several long seconds, every breath causing the tip to dig slightly into his skin. They stood like that for a long time, though after a few more breaths, the Spectre took a step back. It remained silent, lifting its head to stare up at the human in a confounded way. Refusing to let any weakness show, Ray pressed the knife harder, feeling the skin beneath the blade break, a trickle of blood escaping.

“Very well then, human,” the Spectre hissed.

Ray blinked and it was all gone, the strange world and the Spectre alike replaced by the normal scenery of the new continent. He stared at his surroundings, breathless at the sight of the grasses reflecting the moon’s light. His hand shaking, he let his blade drop from his hand, the grass rustling as it fell. Slowly, he went to his knees, staring around him warily, waiting for the Spectre’s voice.

It didn’t come.

Several long minutes passed, each noise, the brushing of grass in the breeze, distant sounds of the Fallen, his own breathing, they all made him jump slightly. Ray felt cold, hollowed out by his experience with the Spectre. It had been over two months since the Spectre had taken him to the strange world. Maybe he should have been more prepared for a return, but knowing the true terror behind the very terrain of the world only terrified him more. However, tonight’s encounter taught him one thing that gave him peace. Standing up, he pulled his fingers through his hair, crusted blood flaking off him as he began walking back to the beachhead.

So long as the Spectre could talk to Ray, it wanted him alive.

Author's Note:

First chapter of the New Year! As always, questions, comments, and concerns welcomed and wanted.

Comments

[Bronyshot2020]

Ok then specter wtf do you have planned

[ShortCaveman]

Feels good so far. 👍