Lunar Orbit

by Benman

Marked

You must judge, as you read this tale, whether Ward is a coward. Some would say he ran from his guilt, and that is true, in a way. But first, Ward faced his guilt candidly and grappled with it—and he was broken. Then he ran, never looking back for fear of what he might see.

Another pony, faced with that same guilt, would pretend not to notice. He would live always with a little scream locked inside his heart, and kiss his wife with a little scream locked behind his lips, and watch his children with a little scream locked behind his eyes, and if you asked him, he would tell you he was happy, so long as you asked under the bright warm light of the sun.

But perhaps they are both cowards.

Coward or no, Ward fled Canterlot, with its towers and boulevards, and his friends and comrades in the Guard. He fled to Ponyville, and you will say he did not go far; but if the two places are close in distance, they are far in spirit. Ponyville is a quiet place, and it never reminded Ward of his past. But try as he might, he could not start again.

He volunteered at the school, but the foals kept asking him what it was like in the Guard, and he was afraid that sooner or later he might tell them, and so he left. He helped with the Flower-Painting Festival in spring, but Rainbow Dash kept trying to share stories of fighting off the changeling invasion, and eventually he ran out of nervous laughter and left. He went to the book group at the library, but Twilight Sparkle was always there, and she knew, she never said anything but everyone knew Celestia shared everything with her and so she knew, and eventually he got tired of avoiding her eyes and left.

The dream came again, that night.

Fire and chaos and screaming. The shining marble streets of Canterlot were clogged with fleeing ponies. Every way he turned, changelings buzzed low, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Faces flashed by him, distorted impossible grimaces. Ward found himself rushing to the front. Ponies saw his armor, saw the shield that marked his flank, and parted for him. Protecting these ponies was his purpose.

Then he was at the fountain square. It was deserted save for the changeling, horrible eyes and coal-black shell, hard angles and wicked edges. Somehow it seemed terribly fragile and small. Ward didn’t want to fight it, but he had to, it was his purpose, so he lowered his head and charged.

This time, he decided. This time I’ll just scare it. Maybe rough it up a little. Drive it away.

And then it was on top of him biting clawing and he just wanted it off and he lashed out and its broken body was all over the fountain and all over his forelegs and all over the shining marble streets.

He ran through the streets again, and ponies ran away screaming, but this time they ran from him.

He awoke, soaked in sweat, and lay shaking in the darkness. Then he found quill and paper, and he wrote a letter to Princess Luna under the light of the stars.

Even then, Princess Luna was not loved. She was not feared, either, or at least not so much as she had been.

Ward told her everything in that letter. He wrote of the invasion, he wrote of the dreams, he wrote of the doctors who could not help him, and he wrote of his flight to Ponyville.

Please, he wrote.

The next time the dream came, Ward was not alone. The streets were the same, filled with the same panicked crowd, and the same purpose drove him to the same fountain square, but when he arrived, there was no sign of the changeling. The Princess of Dreams stood in its stead.

“You must face your fear,” said Luna, “or the nightmare will never end.”

“I have,” said Ward. “Stars help me, but I have. I can’t stop thinking about it. What I did to that changeling—”

“No.” Princess Luna tapped a hoof, and the world fell away. “This dream is grief, and it is guilt, but it is not fear.” She stepped close, filling his vision. “Yet there is fear in you. What do you fear? Why do you cling to this nightmare?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“You choose your guilt because you fear to leave it behind. Why? What is so terrible that you must do this to yourself?”

Ward would have stepped back, if he could. “I don’t know!”

“You know.” A cold smile touched Luna’s eyes. “Perhaps your waking mind does not, but this is the land of dreams, and here, you cannot hide. Now tell me, little pony. What do you fear?”

He awoke, shaking harder than ever before.

Ward arrived at the library just before sunrise. He had never considered Twilight Sparkle his friend, before—but if you lived in Ponyville in those days, and you had no other friends to rely on, you would find yourself at that door.

If seeing him so early bothered her, Twilight Sparkle hid it well. She made coffee as Ward told her everything. Finally she set the steaming mug before him and asked, “So how can I help?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “Princesses can be like that, sometimes. What was it she said? That you were choosing to feel guilty?”

“I think she was saying I’m scared to not feel guilty.”

“Mm.” She blew the steam off her cup. “Well, what would it mean if you didn’t feel that way?”

“After what I did? I’d be a monster.”

She paused. “You think what you did was monstrous?”

“No,” he said slowly. “No, I don’t. It was an accident, and I was protecting ponies. That’s my special talent—my purpose. But it’s… sometimes a pony does something like that without meaning to, or sometimes a pony does it just because it’s easier. You see?”

“I don’t,” said Twilight Sparkle. “How do you tell which it is?”

“By whether they feel bad! The ponies who feel bad are the ones who never wanted to do it. The ones who don’t feel bad, they’re the ones who start trouble, the ones who might do it again.”

Twilight nodded. “So you’re worried you might do it again?”

“No,” Ward said through clenched teeth. “I won’t do it again. Not ever.”

The sun went down, and Ward dreamed.

This time, after it happened, he found himself in the princess’s throne room, his armor still stained with the changeling’s viscera.

“You must face your fear,” said Princess Luna.

“I did!” said Ward. “I’m trying! What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Luna drew back, eyes teetering between amusement and offense. “You asked for my aid.”

“Yes! I want the dreams to go away! I want all this to stop!”

“Truly? Then say the word, and I will remove your memory of the event. You need never think on it again. Is that what you want?”

Ward said nothing.

“Then tell me, little pony. What do you want?”

“I want out,” he said. “I’m trapped, and I can’t leave. I want to stop thinking about what I did. But I can’t, not if I’m going to keep protecting ponies.”

“Then stop protecting ponies,” said Princess Luna.

“But I have to! It’s my special talent!”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Her eyes fell to the shield that marked his flank. “You were given a purpose, long ago. Perhaps it even fit you, once. But no longer.” Her eyes were far away. “I have seen this before.”

“You have? Great! So what do I do?”

“You must first understand your special talent. You must understand where it ends, and where you begin. Understand what you would be without it. Only then can you choose your path.”

“You know my friend Rarity?” said Twilight.

Ward nodded. “The dressmaker.”

“Right. Whose cutie mark is three jewels.”

“That is a little odd,” said Ward.

“Her special talent is finding gems with magic.”

Ward frowned. “That’s very odd.”

Twilight wrapped her hooves around her mug. “I asked her, once, why she didn’t work as a miner or something where she could use her talent more. She told me, ‘But Twilight, I don’t want to look for jewels. I want to make dresses.’ So that’s what she did.”

Author's Note:

So this one was gonna be about how people change and destiny is bullshit. Ward realizes he doesn't have to let his mark define him, stops holding himself to the ideal of protecting people, and so stops holding on to the guilt that he thinks he needs to keep himself from going overboard. He moves on to some completely different profession that's fulfilling and has nothing to do with his mark. Roll curtain.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

He had never considered Twilight Sparkle his friend, before—but if you lived in Ponyville in those days, and you had no other friends to rely on, you would find yourself at that door.

I like this portrayal of Twilight as a sort of quietly mythic figure. Not yet the philosopher-queen of enlightened friendship, more like the local friendship witch, the lonely and desperate irresistably drawn to her door. Luna is equally awesome as an enigmatic, occult being who is vastly more easy to call up than put down.

A good fragment, this one. A shame the Crusaders have yet to find themselves, but someone needed to handle these cases before they did.

[PresentPerfect]

Shit man, save the lack of ending this is fantastic.

[Teikan]

I like it