In Victory, We Are the Losers

by daOtterGuy

Embark

Brittle skin pulled taut over bone. Ghastly contour formed from where the skin sagged between. Their strength. Their power. Reduced to bags of skin. Flies flitted about the cave, feasting upon the long-dead remains of what was once “his” people.

They huddled in groups. Many hugged each other, seeking the comfort of another’s embrace. That was what drove a spike into Rockhoof’s heart. They were all covered with dried blood mixed with unmentionable fluids. That was preferred over the mere company of him.

He could see their fear on clear display. Their defeat. Their weakness. His great clan had died, beaten by a plague.

Amongst the huddles, he could pick out the lone corpse of his father. The giant in his mind was hunched over, hooves wrapped around his body. He could imagine the stallion crying as he wasted away with no way to stop it. This was who had pushed him to be strong. Who made him endure the Trench. Who could care less about what happened to his pathetic son.

That last thought was further emphasized as Rockhoof realized that, in his final moments, it had never even occurred to his father to say goodbye to him, or let him know that they couldn’t heal themselves.

This was his purpose. To shield these cowards from the outside world so they could waste away in peace.

Within the wreckage of the makeshift hospice, Rockhoof was caught in the turmoil of his emotions. He didn’t know whether to scream or cry or rage. A combination might have been the best option.

“This might be a good thing for you,” Nike remarked.

Rockhoof spun toward her, his mind settling for indignant rage. “How?!” He shouted, the cave rumbling from the sheer force of his voice.

“There’s nothing to tie you down here anymore. They’re dead. There’s nothing to protect.”

Ragged breaths. Implications sunk into his mind as he processed Nike’s words.

“You know.” A wide grin, toothy with a malicious glint. “You could leave and seek out new challenges. Change your initial goal toward just becoming the strongest, instead of guarding these pathetic losers.”

“I-I—” Rockhoof struggled to formulate a response, still caught up in the wreckage of his clan.

“You have no more ties here, Rockhoof. Vigour made you feel small all your life. Weak.” Nike whispered into his ear once more, bearing sweet words of honey. Tantalizing, addicting. “He’s gone, and with my help, no one will ever be able to make you feel like that again.”

“... You knew since the first day you met me,” Rockhoof said. “You sought me out because you knew.”

“I want someone who will win,” Nike hissed. “I need someone who would get just a taste of winning and be hooked. You’re strong. You have the drive to be stronger. Choose victory. Be my champion, Rockhoof. Leave this all behind you. Be better than everyone.”

He had caved before Nike had even finished talking. He already knew subconsciously that this was what he would find. That he would agree to whatever Nike told him, because he was hooked. He was strong, and he would stay that way. Besides that, she offered him the one thing he needed more than anything.

Purpose.

“Let us seek new shores,” Rockhoof announced.

He left and with that, Nike had exactly what she wanted.

Comments

[TheAncientPolitzanian]

If I'm keeping score correctly, this is either the fourth or fifth community singlehoofedly laid low by this series' ever-pervasive plague. If it weren't for Fluttershy and Treehugger's cameos in the Meadowbrook epilogue, I might've assumed it'd just gone on to kill everyone. :P

Quippery aside, looking forward to the rest!