Equestria's Ray of Hope

by The_Darker_Fonts

Gather the Legions

The sun burned so hot in the sky that the minotaur felt as if he couldn’t continue on. His unsteady legs had carried him from the bloodshed and massacre of his brothers to the footsteps of the palace, but even knowing She awaited him, he could not move further. Water had not helped, and with his hair mangy and tangled from the long, unstopped run across the continent, he felt on the brink of death. This was his duty, though, to die for the Priestess, even if only to serve as a messenger of terrible news.

What terrible news it was indeed. The things he had seen, out there, on the Golden Plains, were nothing like any of his brothers had ever experienced before. Giant spiders and ghost ponies and a terrible wraith of skin that stood nigh as tall as he, a mockery of nature. It was an abomination he wished not to share with the Priestess lest he cause Her grief. He could only hope that instead of disappointment, sorrow, or surprise, his message would kindle Her unstoppable wrath, to call upon all his brotherhood under Her watch to avenge minotaur blood and drive off the invaders to their own lands.

Yes, it was that hope that would get the minotaur through the imposing doors of stone into his Queen’s palace. He was immediately greeted by a pair of high-brothers, the two guiding him by the arms to the throne hidden behind the massive Veil. The Priestess was talking with other silhouettes, Her powerful voice echoing in the chamber like a god’s. Immediately made revenant by Her presence, he fell to his knees as soon as the two released him. He dared not to listen to Her words, nor the words of those She spoke with. He had no right to listen or understand high words, words of grace and intelligence. The shadow of Her Horns occasionally passed right before his hands as they moved, a promise of power and might that made his ragged breathing hitch.

So, this was his destined fate, a survivor to give his Queen the words of defeat and loss. A stormcrow on the winds that brought with him tidings of war on their eastern shore with his meager hands. Would the failure of his brothers be placed on his head? Would the Priestess in Her justice take it as retribution? He could not know, and even if the Queen showed him Her mercy, there was nowhere for him now. His brothers were all dead or lost to the wilderness, what few that escaped like him. Perhaps some others would make it back, but he knew with almost complete certainty that it was him who would first bear the message to the Queen.

“There is a messenger for you from the Golden Plains, my Priestess Sovereign,” one of the high-brothers declared, his great voice booming deeply throughout the chamber. Immediately, the conversation stopped, and the shadow Her Horns moved towards him as She looked their way through the Veil. “A minotaur from the Golden Plains has ran himself nigh unto death bearing a message he had neither the time to write nor give to a superior. None came with him, but his determination breathes terrible omens. I sense… misadventure is his report.”

There was a deep silence that made the minotaur’s very bones chill, the heat and exhaustion dissipating momentarily as the Queen’s thoughtful silence filled the throne room more than the high-brother’s proclamation had. Finally, she beautifully pronounced, “Give him parchment and a stylus to write his account. We will see what our eager servant has to say then.”

Almost immediately, a sheet of parchment was laid out before him and a stylus with syrups were presented to him. He dared not move a muscle until the high-brother behind him commanded, “Write.”

Eagerly, he followed the instruction and began writing as quickly as possible. His thick hands and swollen fingers, unskilled in the practice, struggled to articulate well and the syrups quickly became stuck on the fur of his hands, but he did not care. There were far too important things to attend to than his own wellbeing.

I come from the command of the 11th Army of Mino Tauris, sent to destroy Equestria and the treacherous Changeling queen. We were on the march for many sunsets, when out of the sun-up horizon came an army not our own. The 3rd Army or Emry, numbering fewer than us and ahead of us, was ambushed and destroyed by this foe, and we attempted to engage.
I was in the rear of the army and did not witness what wrought devastation on our numbers the first engagement, but from our twenty-five thousand walked away twenty thousand. It was then that we found our enemies were in smaller numbers than us, and not wishing them to get away, desired to stay near for a chance to attack.
Eleven days from the destruction of the 3rd Army, we were tricked into attacking a small detachment of the army. They are like ponies, but ghostly, their bones visible, eyes empty, and spears sharp. They had archers in the thousands, and many, if not all, were slain by their arrows, large and small. A was near the rear and had time to run, when a second number of their army emerged from a valley. This one was of both ghostly ponies and large spiders, one so tall that it looked as if it could consume the sun.
I escaped, though very few others had the opportunity. For thirteen days have I run to bring this information. An army of ghostly ponies aided by monsters that could destroy villages roams the Golden Plains and defeats armies larger than it with almost no casualties. Worse, they are led by a treacherous wraith wrapped in bare flesh, as tall as a minotaur and thrice as strong. We are at war with Equestria, and they are attacking us.

His hand cramping, shaking from the fear of what he had written, he bowed his head once again as he fell to his hands and knees, awaiting the Queen’s reaction. The high-brother snatched the note up and passed it through the Veil to the Priestess within. Silently, She read the words he had written, and in spite of his fear, the minotaur felt a humbleness as he knew it was his words She was judging, and not anyone else’s.

“That traitor Chrysalis has decided that, rather than facing the consequences for her failure, attacking us is her best course of action,” the Priestess suddenly scoffed, her voice neither angry nor disappointed. “Ah, it is unfortunate that we are now fighting two wars, but so be it. Have all armies of Emry, Pahem, and Hysten raised in defense of our east, and have my own armies in the west withdrawn. Gylren can finish his foolish conquest out there with his own armies and allies. Once Fray completes her mission in Cynotere, have her summoned at once. I will allow her blade the honor of slitting Chrysalis’ throat, if the bug survives long enough to face my daughter.”

Suddenly, the shadow of the Priestess moved, enlarging and swallowing the minotaur’s entire form. His heart stopped beating altogether as the Veil shifted in a calm, rapturous swishing of holiest silk. The clack of the Queen’s steps on the golden brown stone trumpeted her approach, until she was standing right before him, the drapes of her mighty garments mere inches from his hands.

“Arise but do not look, my son,” the Priestess softly commanded. The minotaur did so, his entire body shaking in the glory of her presence and power of her gaze. So, this was the feeling of being seen by the Queen, gloried by the Priestess. He felt as if a darkness would overtake him at any moment, the exhaustion of the weeks of travel and terrifying, enrapturing presence of the Priestess stealing away his consciousness in exhaustion and wonder.

And then, She rested a hand upon his chest.

“Your brothers are not dead in vain, my son, and your work will not be without its glory,” She promised. “The monsters you faced were but amalgamations of Chrysalis' demented magicks. They will be picked apart soundly by the pike, axes, swords, and arrows of the minotaur.

“You will not have to be present for such a struggle, however,” She prescribed, taking a step back. Calling to the high-brother, the Queen instructed, “Prada, prepare the ramna sah for this one.”

Without hesitation, the minotaur fell back to his knees and silently, eagerly praised the glory of his merciful Queen and divine Priestess.

Author's Note:

I know, I know, it's another short chapter. I promise it won't be next time, but as short as it is, I bet you weren't expecting this. Anyways, questions, comments, and concerns welcome and wanted.

Comments

[TheVirtuousOne]

This doesn't bode well for the Fallen, it seems like the plot thickens....

[Solar_Wolf]

11769475
I'm not a applejack fan that's me she glares at you acusing new folk that thear hiding secrets wean thay jeast met them, 4 of the 5 attacking hem with no provocation to do so, celeastea mind raping hem

But that's me and it is a fanfic not real jeast keep on doing what u r doing and don't Chang a thing

[The_Darker_Fonts]

11769740
No, yeah, it's all a bit fucked up. I mean, tbf the Main 6 have had to fight all sorts of weird monsters, so they just assumed giant, hairless creature = next weird monster. Celestia's... not the best...

[paladinwolf]

Well, unless our favorite Fallen manage to drastically change... pretty much everything in the way they fight, they are all as good as dead. Let's hope that our intrepid human, who has thankfully identified the problem already, can come up with a solution that can be implemented immediately. Maybe some magic support from equestria... or perhaps a couple of drakes and griffons for aerial recon, and maybe dropping bags of weighted darts from a couple thousand feet above ground... Who knows, maybe Discord can S.T.E.A.L. (Strategically Transfer Equipment to Alternate Location) some human tech to help...
img2.reactor.cc/pics/post/my-little-pony-%D1%84%D1%8D%D0%BD%D0%B4%D0%BE%D0%BC%D1%8B-MrScroup-artist-7944179.png

[The_Darker_Fonts]

11791218

Who knows, maybe Discord can S.T.E.A.L. (Strategically Transfer Equipment to Alternate Location)

Holy shit, another fellow Fat Electrician viewer. Unfortunately, as Twilight mentioned way earlier on, by bringing Ray into Equestria, she severed it from every other reality, thus preventing any crossing realities or threats from said realities, but also preventing support. And even if Ray managed to explain accurately enough what a tank/airplane/gun/artillery piece is to Discord, it's far beyond reason to expect that every function designed and keyed to fit such a weapon would be correct when poofed out of nowhere. That, and one little nugget of information being saved for later (or already mentioned but I just forgot and don't have time to comb through my 400k word story to find it again).