Try
White Lightning always hated this part of her job. She trotted her way to the door of yet another house in Ponyville with the aid of a list in her forehooves to guide her around. Approaching the front door, she sighed heavily, lifted her forehoof and tapped against the door three times. She took a slight step back, and awaited a response.
A mare opened the door with a young foal wrapped in a blanket, sucking on a pacifier in her foreleg.
“Um, hello. Can I help you?” she asked, bewildered.
White Lightning sighed heavily. Words could not describe how much she abhorred this aspect of her job, but as the pony who had to deliver this terse message, it was her duty. After all, nopony would do it but her, for it was a monumental task to summon the necessary courage to tell them of such a thing. It was simply tragic, honestly.
“I’m afraid I have unfortunate news I must deliver. Your husband has sadly perished in the fight against Sombra. Do know that in his final moments he spoke highly of you, and he has passed painlessly,” she stated, as she closed her eyes, and tilted her head towards the ground. As the emotionless, earthen ground stared back at her, she began to prepare herself for the outburst that had to come.
Instead, there was silence.
“Oh, well it’s just been so long since he went off to fight for Equestria,” the mare began, as she looked to White Lightning at her door, eyes dimming as she sighed. “I’ve moved on. I know it might seem like this wasn’t right, but I couldn’t wait forever for him to come back home. Either way, I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to tell me this, but like I’ve said, I moved on.”
White Lightning looked at the mare in disbelief. The mare said nothing, nor did she weep. Did she even care that her husband had perished? It was so...strange, off-putting even, for White Lightning to witness this mare reacting in such a defiant and almost nonchalant way.
White Lightning opened her muzzle to speak, but the inevitable cries of sorrow emanating from the basket the mare held in her foreleg forced White Lightning to stop herself. White nodded her head subtly, and turned around to leave. She was so much more accustomed to vocal responses when delivering that horrid piece of news. It was bittersweet to see that this mare had moved on, since there was always that slim chance that if he had lived, he would have came home to a broken marriage, to see his wife with another stallion. But then again, however small that chance may be, that was always the convenient excuse she conjured to make herself feel better whenever she had to deliver this message.
“Oh my. Well, I do thank you for delivering this message, and I am glad to hear that his death was painless, but I must go now. I have lots of things to do around the house. Gosh, a mare’s work is never done.” With that, the mare quickly slammed the door right in White Lightning’s face.
White Lightning groaned, slowly making her way off of the porch. She lifted her foreleg and scratched at her blue mane. Something clearly wasn’t right. She had delivered this message a thousand times to be rewarded with the same outbursts and cries of pain and sorrow. But for the first time, she had just witnessed one who had the ability to simply get over it after receiving word of something so tragic.
But no, it wasn’t her job to question it, or look into what was going on with this mare. Her job, after all, was to deliver messages of fallen soldiers. She took one last look at the cottage, and began her way to the next house.
She walked up to the porch, and tapped her forehoof against the door, three times. She then took a step back, and awaited a response from the other side of the door. She waited, her mind filling with thoughts of how this might be taken and how she might feel if she were on the other side, as she bit her bottom lip. There certainly wasn’t any easy way of handling this news. The whole minute that passed from the time she knocked on that door, to the pony answering it, made time feel like it was frozen. That fear of uncertainty, that tension in her every breath lingered about in her soul while she painstakingly waited.
A stallion answered the door, whose mane looked like it was balding at the top, and his beard looked scruffy, and a bit messy. He stared at her with his emerald eyes as he began to speak.
“What do you want? How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want any cookies!” He stomped his hoof, then blinked as he realized she was no filly, nor was she selling cookies. If only that was the reason for her visit, the reality was much more grim. There was nothing sweet about death. If anything, it left a bitterness in the hearts of the ponies she visited.
“Sir, I am here to deliver you news of your wife’s passing. She fought valiantly in the war against Sombra, but sadly she is no longer among us,” explained White Lightning, she lowered her head towards the stallion, closing her eyes, as she waited for him to speak.
The stallion looked back at her, as he fought against a cough, he put a hoof to her shoulder.
“None of that now,” he stated, trying to keep a brave face.
She saw the tear ducts of his eyes starting to water, as he looked at her once more. “Do you know how she passed? I do hope she was able to go peacefully.”
White Lightning bit her bottom lip. The circumstances of death were rarely pleasant. She lied.
“Yes, she passed peacefully in her sleep. She fought bravely, and was a fine soldier. I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this news,” White Lightning spoke as she took a step back and nodded her head towards him, implying that she needed to be on her way.
The stallion remained at the porch, motionless. He stood there waiting for White Lightning as she left, and then she saw him sobbing over the loss of his wife, his lover, his best friend. The pain evident in his eyes had strongly reminded her of why she hated this part of the job.
Her days were long, and her nights were often sleepless, but White Lightning found some solace in that she was doing good for Equestria. It felt like she didn’t have any time for herself. She was always going from place to place, to deliver these messages, and often the mares and stallions who received them weren’t very happy with her. Though she couldn’t blame them. She was like death or something. It was like there was always a cloud over her, a dark cloud full of rain. Her presence meant something bad had happened, and she was the mare to deliver the message to them. It was her duty as a soldier and she hated it.
The sun was beginning to set in the distance, as she sat there in the middle of town, staring at what was Twilight’s castle. She didn’t really know much about the alicorn, or why any of this had happened, and honestly she didn’t care. Ponies had to survive, and the first rule of that was to look out for yourself and no pony else.
Then why? Why did she volunteer to be death’s messenger? She tucked her wings tightly against her sides as she sat there. Staring blankly at the falling sun, she couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to do this in the first place.
Death, blood, war, and sorrow, that was what Ponyville had become. There was no cheer, no happy times. No signs of what was a town of friendship and love.
She sighed. Some pony had to do it, some pony had to be brave enough to be able to go to mares and sometimes stallions who were waiting for their loved ones to return, but when she appeared at their door, none of them were clearly very enthusiastic about it. It was her duty to Equestria to do something good for the ponies here, even if the ponies hated her because of it.
It wasn’t like many even knew her name before all this had happened. She was just another pegasus. She remembered training to be able to go into the Wonderbolts Academy. She remembered better times. But nowadays, it was hard. It was hard to do anything. It was difficult even to keep a smile on the faces of the ponies all around her. It felt like Ponyville was empty, even as she knew there were plenty of mares and stallions who still called it home.
White Lightning trotted with a heavy heart back to her cottage. Her cottage was boarded up like all the others in town. She lifted her forehoof and opened the door. It was dark, until she reached over for where she kept a torch on. Her house was rather empty, it had all the basic furnishings, a chair, an oven, a table, a bed upstairs. It had everything a mare could need, and yet she stood there silently, unable to move herself forward.
“Am I making a difference? Am I even helping them?” she asked herself, as she slowly made her way towards the soft comfort of her chair in her living room area. As she came to rest and unwind, she saw pictures of some of her friends from better times lying serenely on the coffee table. A weak smile rose upwards on her lips, while she sighed heavily, lidding her eyes, and wishing to wake up in a world where Sombra never took over Equestria, a land where things were normal and fun. A place where she could be a normal pegasus, and be able to try to become a Wonderbolt someday.
Fate had a funny way of playing things out. She always wanted to make a difference in the world, to show the ponies of Equestria, that she was lightning in a bottle. She could do anything she sought out to do. And yet, here she was delivering messages to the spouses of loved ones. She wanted to believe she was making a difference, that she had a role in this world, but often she simply felt she was just there.
White Lightning reached for a bottle of hard cider. She kept them on hoof ever since this whole ordeal had started. Popping the top off, she took a swig, trying to drown away the cries, and sobs of the ponies she dealt with. Trying to forget about the war, just for a night. If only it were that easy.
As she swallowed the first gulp of her cider, she vividly remembered that day. The day a pony had come to her door, to tell her news of her marefriend. She closed her eyes, as she fought against the tears forming in her eyes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
White Lightning went to her door, opening it to see a stallion standing to attention. He was dressed in military attire from head to hoof. He stood there, solid as a rock, and yet she could see how he shook as he spoke.
“Are you White Lightning?” he asked her, looking over the letters in his pouch.
“Yes, I am. Can I help you with something?” asked White Lightning, as she tilted her head, ear twitching. She raised a brow at him.
“I’m afraid I am here to inform you that your marefriend has passed in the fight against Sombra,” he said, as he paused, sighing. “She passed peacefully in her sleep, and her last words were that she loved you and that she didn’t want you to linger in her death, and be able to move on, without her.”
His words hit her like lightning. They struck her to her very core. She gasped, as she took a step back, covering her mouth with her forehoof. And just like that, in that moment, she fought against the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she fell down to her knees in front of the stallion, bawling her eyes out.
Another sip, another drink, another letter. Would it ever end? This war, it felt like it had been going on for as long as she could remember, and yet she still recalled times that were better. When she was just a normal pegasus trying to shoot for greatness as a Wonderbolt, now she was just the mare who delivered messages to the widows of war, she was like a plague.
She lost track of how much she had drunk. She felt a headache coming over her, and lazily lifted herself off her chair, heading upstairs. She slowly made her way upstairs, and hopped into her bed. She groaned inwardly and sighed.
She didn’t bother to cover herself up, as she sprawled herself out over the bed. The only nice thing about this job was that once it was over for the day, she could come home to simply ease off her burdens. She didn’t drink every night, but today had been a rough day.
Then again, when wasn’t it a rough day? Delivering messages to ponies of loved ones losing their lives on the battlefield wasn’t pleasant, but some pony had to do it. She lay there, back against the soft sheets, with her mane splashed out against her pillow and a foreleg over her eyes. She groaned inwardly and sighed.
“Today might be over, but it’ll start again, tomorrow. Another day of telling them. Ponies were dying because of Sombra. Another day of having to be the one to tell them. How I...wish there was more I could do...” muttered White Lightning, lidding her eyes, as she turned to her side, and curled herself up on her bed. War changed the ponies around her, as every pony seemed like they weren’t the ponies she remembered them to be and yet she hadn’t changed. She still sought to prove herself to Equestria. She knew it was not a glorious job, nor a fun one, but if any pony had to do it, it might as well be a pony who had gone through it herself. Losing a loved one was hard, as she knew it all too well.
She had been told the same thing she often told the ponies she visited. She died peacefully, and her last words were about you, and how much she loved you. The more she thought about it, the more it just made sense. She didn’t take this job because no pony else could do it, she took this job because she knew she’d be the best to deliver that message, to tell them what happened, and help console them; to brave through all the emotions and strife that came with that message, because she had been there too. She lost a wife, a lover, a valuable friend. Indeed, delivering this message was hard, but what was harder was being on the other side of that door.
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I love the additions you made. Well done, Nailah!
Editing this reminded me so much about my own personal experiences. This piece invokes experiential emotion that ties into the reader's heart. Intriguing, captivating and inspiring. Great work.
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Haha Fimfiction's drunk
Anyways, well done! This was a pretty nice story
...this is good writing.
Nice!
The story was short and succinct. In defiance of "show, don't tell," you've managed to make telling a great experience that will bring readers closer to relating to the horrors of war. And there's the novelty of it too: other war stories would focus on soldiers or workers on the homefront, but I've never thought of reading about a day in the life of a wartime death messenger (if that's the term for it).
Thank you for this good story you've got here!
What a story...
An very well written story about a less spoken duty of war. I've seen too many war stories focus on soldiers or workers on the homefront, it's good to see a story focus on something else that happens in war.
Excellent work Nailah.
Damn, I felt an ache there...
.
She is not doing a good job of it. She is lying to ponies telling them that their loved ones died easily. This is how a war like that drags on. These ponies need to know the truth. A pony who knows the truth will be more likely to do something about it, rather than being resigned to it. Especially when dealing with a pony like Sombra, the propaganda part of the war of high importance.
How the grief of the ponies physically manifests is very well portrayed. What made the story interesting is that so many different characters had so many different reactions. The first mare's reaction made me want to punch her in the face but at the same time I can kind of sympathize with her.
Also, the drama and emotions the main character grapples with are so real and so realistically portrayed. When she starts drinking, you can really tell that she's going through it. One thing though is that this story refers to her partner as both her marefriend and her wife. I'm wondering if this was a type or if it was intentional.
Also, yeah, something to comment. Sometimes the best person for the job is someone with lived experience. I can definitely relate to peer support being better than professional support sometimes.
Loved this story; the reactions of the citizens of Ponyville, the thoughts going through Lightning's mind, her way of dealing with it, it's all done so well. This was a beautifully written sadfic, Nailah, and I love the effort you always put into your works! Good job!
“They died peacefully”
A lie she told many ponies. And a lie that was told to her. Beautiful story, I wish I found it sooner
Being in a world like that really takes your energy away. Almost wondered why she'd lie, but I got the impression she knew she was lied to, and knew how important a lie like that is for others.
Yes.
Actual comment.
Greetings. Your reading has been completed and can be found below. I hope you enjoy.
"Why must we kill our own kind?" -Boom, system of a down.
Hello, a review to your story has been posted. I hope you find it helpful.
Congratulations on taking a new lens and approach on a popular theme: an analysis into the inner psychodrama of the bearer of "bad news", as it were, who brings news of deaths during a war.
The first deliveree's response was interesting. It told me that I was in for reading something that was not just "color by numbers" comfort the weary--good execution! And it was followed up by the stiff upper lip of the second recipient who ended up comforting the bearer (WHITE Lightning), who was biting her lower lip while telling white lies.
The juxtaposition of the two deliverees was a strong one. (Our star's visceral response to both set the stage for her poignant flash-back. Maybe (although I suspect this is reading a bit too much into it, but I like the parallelisms) one could even see the two responses as what she could be hoping for--she wants to leave her loss behind like the first deliveree was able to or at least to accept it like the second deliveree, but she cannot--she drinks hard cider and soldiers on as best as she can.)
One concern: It surprises me that she is doing this job even though she is not injured or a conscientious objector--she mentions the war in generally positive terms and how she wants to try to becomes a Wonderbolt after the war but she does not seem to be a soldier out on leave from the front or on light duty or rotation. Either I missed something (very possible!) or this might benefit from some explanation of why an able-bodied pegasus is doing this rather than serving at the front. If the stallion who apparently inspired her had been incompetent or delivered the words wrong, I'd find her career more believable--she'd have direct drive to deliver these words and a justification for doing it rather than to do something else for the military. Also, I get that she may have wanted to do this job but why wouldn't a recruiter have steered her towards the front? She was training to be a wonderbolt--she should be particularly skilled. (Maybe she's caring for an elderly family member or has as secondary job as home front police, etc.? It's just hard to understand why she is allowed to do this job.) Also, if her past career had something to do with counseling, or something of the sort, then the idea might have been stronger. To be fair, you did provide her a motivation for the job she is doing; however, a very few words might go a long way to making the grounding stronger and more relatable.
Thank you for sharing the story!
This comment was written since this story is in the "I Just Want a Comment Group" and someone signed it up for a different comment group, so I presume the above is desired and will be welcome.
If not, just let me know!:
Howdy, hi!
I had the pleasure to read this before and the pleasure to do so again. I really like this one. The perspective in this story, told from the bearer of bad news over the victims, is unique and gut punch that doesn't feel cheap. The emotional turmoil the character feel at doing their job is poignant and heartbreaking in the suffering they feel due to it. It was a well-paced, short story about the struggles of one pony that I enjoyed reading even if it left a bittersweet taste at the ending of the fic. A just solid emotional fic without any of the usual trappings of "CRY YOU FOOL".
Thanks for the read~!
Hiya! I saw this story recommended over here (but you probably knew that already) and thought I'd give it a read. I had an idea of what to expect, and this was definitely a heavy read for a Monday night. I like that you took the perspective of the messenger. That's a point of view I haven't seen explored very often, and as you've described, it is a harrowing position to be in. I won't compare the grief of the messenger with the grief of the survivor, because they are different, but both heavy and, possibly, soul-crushing. It was a good choice for Lightning to have experienced both sides of that conversation.
One aspect of that dynamic that I thought should have been explored more was how Lightning might choose to use her own experience to provide empathy and understanding. You hinted at the possibility toward the end:
But we never saw her apply her empathy to the ponies she talked to, nor did she attempt to rationalize why she wouldn't. A bad experience when she tried it? Did it make the job harder, and so she stopped for her own sanity? I can speculate, but I would have liked to see it explored more. If that wasn't you aim with this story, well, that's fair enough. Just because I want something to happen doesn't mean you have to make it happen, after all!
The beginning was rough for me, mainly because you have a lot of repetition. I understand why you've written it this way. You're trying to show just how harrowing this duty is. However, I mostly felt you were expressing the same ideas with slightly different phrasing, rather than adding new levels of dread over time. As an example, you have these phrases written in paragraphs one and three:
The phrase "sighed heavily" is identical, and the rest is saying essentially the same thing: I hate doing this. You've said twice what need only be said once, and that brings the emotional stakes to a standstill.
I noticed other instances of repetition, though they didn't interfere with my emotional investment as much as the previous one. For example:
Duty means "have to do something." The two halves are saying the same thing.
The word ground is used twice here, and describing the ground as "earthen" seems unnecessary in Ponyville. "As the emotionless earth" might be a better phrasing.
On a much smaller note, there were a few instances I found slightly confusing. This interaction, for example:
If Lightning had turned around, wouldn't the door be slamming her backside? You don't mention that Lightning turns back to face the mare when she speaks.
So the small confusion here comes with who is saying that second line of dialogue. From the context, it has to be the stallion, since it makes no sense for Lightning to ask that question, and "he" is the last subject pronoun before the dialogue begins. However, you've started a new paragraph, which generally indicates a change in speaker, and started it with "she," which may imply Lightning is the one acting, and therefore speaking, in this paragraph. I think keeping this passage as a single paragrpah would improve clarity, since it's a matter of convention that only one character speaks in a single paragraph.
I was also a little confused when you transitioned to the flashback. You do have a setup for it, but I didn't recognize it as such until I was a few paragraphs in. Indicating a temporary time change with italics might help with that.
I know I've spent a lot of time on "issues," but for the most part they really were minor enough not to distract from the main point and emotional core. This is a difficult subject to tackle, and I think you've done a good job of it. Keep it up!
not knowing anything about the fic going in, i was pleasantly surprised to see that it was about the Crystal War timeline! it's always a great opportunity to imagine a version of Equestria that is the inverse of the one we know: a place where ponies do not get to find their purpose and follow their dreams in a peaceful utopia, but rather must sacrifice and suffer.
it's hard to imagine informing ponies of the deaths of their loved ones in war being the job of anypony in the normal Equestria we know, and with how specialized Equestrian society is, it makes sense for that to be White Lightning's entire job, as awful as it is for her. with how new the concept is to Equestrians, so does the lie told with each message. something interesting to think about is how that lie was told to White Lightning, which means that she now knows what her marefriend's death must have really been like. seeing that from both sides, and the way the reactions to her message differed so much between the ponies, was a nice touch.
finally, i loved the background details: the mother carrying the crying foal, the stallion's cough, the boarded up cottage. they come together to really underscore how dreary and miserable this world has become. but really, dreary and miserable in a way that just makes it feel closer to the human one! incessantly crying babies, nagging coughs, and unfurnished houses are very everyday imperfections, not out of place to encounter or deal with in our lives at all. and though most of us on a site like this don't have the experience of loved ones dying in war, that too used to be a very common thing throughout human history. stories like this are so great for reminding us that living without worrying about such things is a privilege not to be taken for granted.
A day late and a dollar short. Either way, a comment was promised! Here we go!
With the first mare, I thought it would be a plotline that the story would come to full-circle in, as apathy was a change of pace for White Lightning. Turns out it’s just an anti-cliché, which is quite welcome. This story offers something unique and you see a tidbit of that from the beginning.
Just a preface, there is some criticism sprinkled in. If it is unwelcome, let me know.
Not sure how to get past this one editing-wise, but three sentences start off with ‘she’.
Love this description. How does it feel to deliver bad news? You don’t want to do it and as an effect, time crawls.
Pinkie probably pressed some buttons here. Or filly scouts.
White Lightning telling white lies.
I related, but I get the feeling that its denial; white lies to herself.
Just a minor thought, but I bet it has crossed her mind that she’d rather be fighting than playing the bearer of bad news.
Need some clarification here. At first, I thought this was the alternate universe in which there is no Rainboom, Twilight never got her cutie mark in time, and Sombra’s running rampant in the north. But then again, this is not something of huge consequence, just something that I got tripped up on.
This tells a story in and of itself. The achievement of being a Wonderbolt cut short by impending war. A dream that would never come to fruition.
I'm a fan of the minimalist style. This adds a detail of personality as well as a small indicator to how life is with the war against Sombra.
However, grammatically, replace the first comma with a semicolon. May work better. Plus, connect the two sentences here, or clean up the second sentence. It took me a minute to line up the connection to ‘needs being met’ but ‘unable to move forward’.
These hit home. Hard. Sometimes we wish that some things never happened but they did. The doubts undermine your resolve to keep moving forward. Most that we can do is grin and bear it.
Goes to show how taxed she is due to her job/life in general.
Well done here! Overall, this story helped open up a brand-new perspective for me. The several intricacies of a soldier’s life (including their families).
For the first one (apathy), Wife remarries after news of husband is MIA, then husband returns. How does one begin to understand what it is like? Betrayal? Maybe. Awkward? Yes.
But even more so, the heartbreak again and again of White Lightning. At first, I didn’t know why she kept on going with her job since it carries a cloud of grief. But, given the details of love lost, it all fits together. Gratitude and heartache, normally like oil and water, but mixed together expertly.
A masterpiece indeed.
This was an interesting perspective of a messenger of war. It really reinforces how tough both sides of the fence are; especially when she too was a victim of losing a loved one. Rather well written and introspective piece. Here's a like and fave!