When They Come: Pt. 10 (End)

(Warning, this has not been edited for spelling, grammar, or structure weirdness yet)

>Your whole body tenses as the man shoves you towards the center of the clearing. You feel the dread taking over, panic settling in. Your mind begins to race, and you tell yourself to calm the fuck down. You can figure a way out of this, you know it. And even if you can’t get out of it, you need to at least make it so that this psycho never harms Ponyville folks or anyone in this world ever again.
>Your breath feels scratchy in your throat, hot and dry in your mouth. You swallow, but there’s no moisture there.
“There’s no reason for you to think this will work,” you choke out.
>You glance over your shoulder and the man shrugs.
“No reason to think it won’t work, plus no skin off my nose when you try it first.”
“But...what if it sends me to another place instead? A further hell?”
>You use his word for Equestria, even though it hardly suits the place. Anything you can do to get on this guy’s level, any way for you to speak his language, might help.
>The man frowns a little, considering what you’ve said, but then he just shrugs again.
“Oh well, then at least I won’t have to deal with your annoying ass anymore.”
>He gives you another push towards the center of the clearing. You can feel your hands trembling in their bonds and your palms getting slick with sweat.
“But how will you even know if it works?” you say quickly. “You won’t be able to tell that I’m back in our world, so how-"
>You’re cut off by the hard impact of metal against your back. The force knocks the words out of your mouth along with all of your breath and you wheeze as you sprawl forward onto the grass.
“Just. Shut. Up.” The man says slowly and calmly. “We’re going to do this, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I won’t find out unless I do it. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. If it does, I’m sure something weird will happen here to let me know.”
>There’s no way this is going to send you back. You’re sure of it, and you wonder if maybe he hasn’t just entirely snapped and wants to take out some more of his rage on you. Or maybe he actually believes what he’s saying. It doesn’t matter, the end result will be the same.
>He steps forward to stand over you, the sun’s light framing him from behind and making his form look dark and forbidding. He stands with one leg on either side of your shoulder, his boot pressing down on your lead rope.
You could fight back. You could grab the crowbar, kill him, and this could be over that way. But you don’t have the strength for that anymore. You’ve been hit in the head, healed with unicorn magic, hit again, run for miles, been beaten, kicked..it’s too much. You could struggle away, but in your state he’d probably just kill you more painfully. And then what would happen to Twilight? The others?
>No. This is over. You’ve lost.
“Now, is there anything you want to say or do before we get this over with?” the man asks as you lie still under him.
>Anything you want to do? Fuck, there’s so many things you wish you’d done. You wish you could have saved Marigold. You wish you could have said goodbye to Miranda when you died in the real world. You wish you could have given Twilight one more kiss, hugged pinkie pie one more time, had one more bit of Mrs. Cake’s cooking. But none of that’s going to happen. You fucked everything up, and now you’re here and you’re going to be killed.
“No,” you barely whisper. “Nothing.”
>The man smiles a little, almost pityingly.
“Ok, suit yourself then,” he says. “I’ll try to do this in as few blows as possible.”
>He raises the crowbar and it glints in the sunlight.
>You can feel your body begin to give up all around you. Muscles are going slack, the panic is leaving. Your body knows its long turmoil is nearing the end.
 “And you’ll stay away from Ponyville,” you say.
“Cross my fucking heart.”
>You don’t know how trustworthy that promise is, but it’s the best you can do right now. Not too bad as a last action. And this place isn’t bad either. There’s flowers growing, light wind blowing. The grass is soft and cool beneath you and as you breathe in you can taste damp earth and the perfume of flowering trees. If you had to die anywhere, even if it’s in a way like this, there could be far worse places to be.
>You look around, savoring the colors and shapes of everything. This will be the last thing you see. You memorize every detail, every sound and smell. Then you slowly close your eyes, holding the captured image there in front of you.
“...Ok. Do it,” you say.
>The words have barely left your mouth when you feel the crowbar hit you.
>Your world flashes white then dark again and you hear the blow resound in your head. You don’t so much feel pain as you feel the crack arching through your skull from just above one ear to the top of your scalp. You feel warm liquid on your face and recognize that it’s your own blood.
>You try to open your eyes and feel the lids lift but see nothing.
>Everything is spinning and empty inside and out. Are you dead? Just dying? You try to breathe, but things don’t seem to be working like they should. You hear, very far away, a man’s voice.
“Fuck, that was weak. It’ll have to be two, sorry.”
>You hear a whoosh, feel a rush of air against the warm blood on your cheeks.
>All at once you can see again. Well, you don’t really see so much as a shape just appears in front of you in the darkness. It comes slowly into focus, just a pink blob at first, then with more defined lines. There's orange to it, an animal shape. Time feels sluggish and the whoosh from the crowbar fades into the back of your mind.
>Clearly, crisply, a voice sounds in your head.
“Get up.”
>You know that voice. You know that shape, that mane, those green eyes...
>Marigold?
>As if of their own accord, your bound hands snap up and wrap around the crowbar as it races down towards your head. Your vision starts to shift between the darkness inside your head and the red-streaked real world.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hear the man say.
“It’s going to hurt,” Marigold says inside your head. “Fight through it. Just fight it”
>Her voice is trembling, like she’s near tears, but it’s so affectionate that it warms all the parts of you that had gone cold with your impending death.
>The man jerks back on the crowbar, trying to loose it from your grasp, but you don’t let go. There’s strength in your limbs again. It’s faint, but there and growing. You can’t even begin to fathom this strength’s source, but you draw off of it as best you can.
>The man jerks at the crowbar again.
>Without even thinking about it you throw your arms to one side with as much force as you can manage. Your leadrope pulls taught under his foot, then jerks his boot to the side. He stumbles back a step or two away from you, which gives you just enough time to roll away across the grass.  The dark space behind your eyes whirls as you spin, and the real world blinks out with each rotation. You prop your knees under you and hoist your body upwards.
>That’s when the pain happens.
>Marigold’s voice had said to fight through it. She had told you it would hurt. She just hadn’t told you how much.
>Involuntarily you gasp out a gargled cry and almost sink back down onto the ground again. A feeling like a thunderclap roles through your nerves, lighting each ending on fire. You nearly vomit as you realize you can feel the edges of bone sliding against each other somewhere along your skull. Your vision goes white, then red, then slowly fizzles back with dark slowly inching towards the edges of your sight.
>You can see the man has regained his balance. He’s coming towards you now, and as your sight teeters on the brink of barely clear and total darkness you see him raise the crowbar.
>Somewhere in the corner of one eye, just out of your field of vision, you sense another presence.
“Duck...now!” cries Marigold’s voice.
>You duck to one side and hear the rush of air as the crowbar glides past your head.
>You gasp again and grit your teeth tightly as another surge of pain courses through you. But you keep from passing out or falling down. Your legs tremble under you, barely supporting weight.
>You’re not sure how much longer you can do this. Or why you’re doing this, to be honest. But Marigold’s voice urges you on, and you impulsively obey. Maybe...maybe you just want to live. Maybe you can’t stand the idea of giving up to this piece of shit who killed someone that loved you. Maybe you don’t want to risk leaving your heaven.
>Whatever the reason, Marigold’s voice keeps you from lying down and dying.
>You try to steady your feet for the next attack.
“Step left!” cries Marigold.
>You step left and see the blur of dark colors as the man brushes past you, grasping at your tied hands. Your knees buckle inwards, but you push yourself up off the ground as soon as your shin makes contact. If you go down, you don’t know if you’ll get back up.
“Hold STILL!” you hear the man shout. “I’ll kill them all if you don’t help me, I’ll kill every last thing in this miserable place!”
>Something wet is dripping down your shirtfront. Blood? Sweat? You don’t know and you try not to think about it.
>You see he shape of the man spin to face you and the world starts to dissolve again. Partially blind you step backwards, feeling for rocks with your heels. Marigold’s apparition flits through your mind.
“Duck left, step back!”
>You comply and you hear the man grunt with the force of another missed swing.
“Step back right! Again!”
>Unsteady footstep by fumbling shuffle Marigold guides you back away from the man, dodging his blows. Your head throbs, your bone fragments creak painfully against each other. Your muscles and limbs feel like toothpicks, ready to give way against your body weight at any second. But you keep stepping back. You can tell the man is getting more and more frustrated and he's beginning to pant.
“I’ll fucking kill you, motherfucker!” he’s screaming. “You little piece of shit, just die already!”
>You can barely breathe. There’s a salty metallic taste filling your mouth now, stinging as it touches your already dry throat.
>Marigold’s voice speaks somehow even louder than the man’s.
“Fall back onto the ground when I say, then punch straight up,” Marigold instructs. “...NOW!”
>Holding a breath in your lungs you let your knees give way to gravity. You fall backwards to the ground, holding up your head from slamming into the dirt as best you can. For a second the pain streaking through your scalp and limbs keeps you from remembering what comes next.
>Up...up...punch up, idiot, punch up now!
>With a cry from gritted teeth and parched blood-stained lips, you force your hands upwards with what remains of your strength. They meet something soft and warm and continue up into it solidly.
>You hear the man wheeze and feel him fall partially onto you, pinning you down. A short distance away you hear a clatter of metal hitting stone. You blink your eyes hard, trying to get them to stop seeing red and black and start seeing what’s in front of you. The man in top of you is struggling, grabbing at you, and you want to be able to see his hands, his face, where you are, if there’s anything you can do to save yourself.
>There’s an impact against your face, softer that the crowbar but still strikingly painful. His hand? His fist? You blink up and see him over you, hand cocked back. It hits you in the jaw, sending a ripple of force through your chin and cheeks to the split on your head.
>You blink through the blow and suddenly it’s Marigold lying over you, slapping you across the face with her hoof.
“Stay with me!” she shouts. “We’re almost there, keep going!”
>Then you blink again and the man is back, pulling his hand away for another blow. Your arms and legs feel far away, might as well be on different continents. There's no way they're of any use to you now. Still, you have your knees you moron, use them! You force one up between the man’s legs, just enough to cause him pain. He grunts again and falls away from you.
>You’re free of him. Just barely, but you are.
“Hurry!” Marigold whinnies in your ear.
>Your eyes hit a sudden moment of clarity and your body reconnects to itself. You’re in the clearing, the man is beside you, and just on the other side of him...the crowbar! He hasn’t even tried to reach for it yet!
>Despite your shrieking head, you clamor on your hands and knees over towards the man. You flop pathetically over his body, stretching with both hands for the crowbar. Even as your vision fades yet again, you feel your fingertips meet metal. You pull it into your palms, grip it tightly and turn, swinging one leg over the man so you’re straddling his chest with your knees. He struggles, reaching for your hands, but you raise them high above you head and he stops.
>You stop.
>Everything stops.
>In the still and darkness, you can hear the pounding of your own heart inside your head. You can feel the heave of the man’s chest underneath you and hear his defeated panting. You can even hear a dripping and feel a tingling on your chin that you’re now sure is your own blood draining our of you.
>Gradually, your eyes begin to focus. Color seeps back into your world, shapes gain lines and clarity.
>The man is lying on his back, his arms on either side of his head, he’s staring up at you with wide and hateful eyes. His face is sweaty and you again notice the bloodstain on his side from Twilight’s horn. It’s begin to seep our fresh blood from your stomach blow, and you suspect he may have a cracked rib or a punctured lung by the rattle in his breathing. He’s not fighting back anymore. He’s waiting.
>With shock, you realize the position you’re in. You’re poised, ready to swing, ready to end this. With a few downward blows, this could all be over and things can begin to go back to the way they were. He knows it too.
>You grip the crowbar more tightly, your arms throbbing with exertion. You’re sure you’re shaking, that the crowbar is shaking. You’ve got this. He’s in your grasp now.
>Suddenly, the man begins to laugh. It’s soft at first, but you stare in bewilderment as the laugh intensifies, vibrating through your legs and aching knees.
“No,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re not going to do that.”
“Like hell,” you hiss out, noting that your jaw is unwilling to open now. It might be broken.
“You’re just like every other fucking thing here,” he chuckles. “You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re all about doing the right thing, protect and serve, like I fucking used to be. Isn’t that right, buddy? I'm helpless and surrendering, so you won't kill me. You’re not a murderer.”
>You feel your arms weaken. He’s right, you’re not a killer, you can’t do this. You can’t beat someone to death, someone unarmed, giving up. No. You just can’t do this.The crowbar begins to droop in your hands.
>Seeing your expression change, he laughs again.
“See, I fucking knew it,” he says. He smirks up at you. “Harmless, just like your little ponies.”
>Then he smiles.
>That smile.
>That fucking terrible smile.
>It all hits you at once.
>That smile as he stood over you and beat Marigold to death.
>That smile as he showed Twilight to you, bloody and bound.
>That smile as he told you he’d kill everything here, that he’d killed the bear by feigning kindness.
>That smile as he’d marched you to your death and raised his killing blow.
>He’d smiled all the while he hurt and killed those you loved. And he’ll smile as he does it again.
>He doesn’t deserve to smile anymore.
>A dry, raging heat washes over you, strong, pungent, vibrating. It trembles up your arm to the crowbar which suddenly feels like liquid fire in your hands. Inertia drives you forward, ordering your muscles onward, the heat aiming for the man beneath you. Everything goes taught in your body and you see the man’s smile fade. You see yourself wash that fucking smile away.
>Forever.
>Before you can even think about what you’re doing, the crowbar flies.
>You watch yourself swing at him, as if watching a completely different person. The blows, over and over with every remaining bit of adrenalin and passion. You watch the man’s face begin to dissolve. First from a blood-stained horrified mask to a deepening crater marked with jagged boulders of bone and cartilage. You watch yourself dodge a reaching, pleading hand and land another hit to the man’s head. You watch the hand fall away, twitching to the grass. You hear a high pitched roar somewhere and recognize the distortion and crack of your own voice, howling in rage, pain, fear, emotions you can’t even name.
>And you keep swinging as the man goes still.
>You keep swinging as the blood stains the beautiful clearing.
>You keep swinging as the world begins to darken on you once more.
>Just as the world is about to flicker out, you see a violet shape on the other side of the clearing.
“Anon!”
>Twilight...she’s come. She came to save you even though...
>Your hands lose their determination and the crowbar slips to the ground. You feel the earth rise up to meet you as you slide sideways off the man’s body. It’s ok to give up now, your body tells you. You’re used up, but you managed to make it much farther than we thought. Good show, you should feel proud about that.
>You do feel good. Everything feels good. You're done now and it's time to rest. Everything is going limp, fading from you. The pain is fading. You’re fading away from you too. Drifting.
>Is there someone holding you? Maybe.
>Everything just feels so light and far away now.
>Farther away.
>Farther.
>Far.
>Gone.

----

>You’re standing alone in the empty. You’re upright, not quite floating, in darkness. The pain is gone, every feeling is gone. Except...
>There’s something under your palm. It’s warm. Fur?
>You turn your head to find Marigold Magic standing beside you, your hand resting gently on her shoulder. She’s smiling at you with tears in her emerald eyes.
“Well,” she murmurs just above a whisper. “You did it.”
“I did?”
>She nods and sniffs back the moisture threatening to trickle down her cheeks.
“You bet. You kept at it, you kept fighting. Even when you were going to die, even when your body was shutting down around you, you kept going. And you made it.”
“I couldn’t have without you,” you admit. “But where did I make it to?”
>She just giggles a little, like she did back on that hillside under the stars what feels like eons ago.
“Lie down, you can rest now.”
>You find yourself tipping back till your head is resting on one of her haunches. It’s warm there, soft. Her hoof smoothes the hair back off your forehead in a cool and gentle caress. It feels so nice, and you smell that flowered perfume, so familiar now, you’re sure of it. It’s a smell that has flitted through your dreams, lingered in your memory, but you don’t know from where. She looks down at you lovingly.
“I’m so proud I know you,” she says. “I’m so happy I got to meet you before I died.”
“Are you going now?” you ask.
>She pauses, then nods again.
“I’ve stayed as long as I could stay, did all I could do,” she sighs. “I’m just glad it was enough.”
“Where..where will you go?” you murmur.
>You're so relaxed, like you could sleep forever now.
“You had your heaven, I have mine,” she says. “I’ll be anything I want to be, anywhere I want to be now. I hope I’ve earned it.”
>You feel so tired. Are you falling asleep? Your eyes won’t stay open, they’re just dying to close on you. Marigold’s face is becoming fuzzy, pulling away from you. You reach up for it and touch the cool soft curve of her face.
“And...where will I go?” you ask.
“Right where you’re supposed to.”
>You feel her kiss your cheek, moist and crisp in your growing darkness. Your hand feels her cheek become wispy, then airy like mist.
“Am I dead?” you whisper to her.
“Anon, you lasted just long enough.”
>You hear her light laugh, and it’s like you’re hearing someone else. Then, far off now, you hear her say one more thing.
“No, Anon, you’re alive.”

----

“Oh thank Celestia, you’re actually alive!”
>You recognize Twilight’s voice through your haze of pain and dizziness. She sounds far away, but getting closer by the second. You can feel warmth on your face, in your chest, and you slowly become aware of wind against your skin and the sticky stiffness of blood, sweat, and mud caking your hands and legs. All at once, you can feel your eyelids again, and you push them open as best you can.
>Twilight’s smiling, crying face looks down at you, traces of dark purple lining her cheeks and eyes. Her horn is glowing very faintly and you realize that it must be the source of the warmth coursing through your body.
>Is she healing you?
“Twilight,” you try to murmur, but your jaw feels damn-near wired shut. It comes out like a gurgle.
>It’s hard to tell if your jaw is still broken or not, but there’s a dull pain throbbing in most of your body. You try to raise an arm and manage to reach up to your chest before you lose what little strength you had. Your hand drops uselessly onto your stomach, and you feel Twilight’s hooves clasp it. She feels cool, but her hooves are trembling.
“Don’t try to speak,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Please, stay still I…”
>Her voice cracks and she stops, as if the words are reluctant to come out. You try to smile, but your muscles refuse to respond to you. Seeing you struggle, fresh tears spring to her eyes.
“I’m sorry Anon,” she says in a whimper. “I’m trying, just stay with me, I promise I’m trying.”
>You suddenly notice that the glow in her horn is getting weaker. You also notice the red in her cheeks, the dark purple of sweat on her brow along with the tear-lines. She looks exhausted.
>As your mind surfaces through the pain briefly, you piece it all together.
>That glow is her magic. The same magic she healed you with in the woods before that took so much out of her. You’re more damaged now, and she’s been through so much that she can’t have much strength left. It could be that she can’t heal your wounds all the way, or even that she’s barely keeping you alive with her magic.
>She’s giving all she can to keep you conscious and alive, but if she stops you’ll start losing blood again. Maybe your skull fracture might slip and turn you into a vegetable.
>What’s worse is that she knows this. She knows that she’s growing weaker. She knows that if she gives up you could die. She can’t go get help, she can’t keep holding on. She knows that he could be the cause of your death.
>You want to reach up to her, comfort her, tell her it’s not her fault. You want her to know that you don’t blame her. Hell, you wish she’d never come here. You wish she’d never seen you like this. But above all else you want her to know you love her too and you wouldn’t trade your time with her for the world.
>But you can’t say anything. You can just lie there on your back, looking into her glossy, panicked eyes as the light in her horn grows dimmer and dimmer. It’s like watching your own life force go out, and in a sense that’s exactly what’s happening.
>Twilight is crying openly now. Her tears splash onto your skin, feeling surprisingly hot and slick amidst the dirt and blood. She’s gritting her teeth hard, sweating, and you can see the shaking has spread to her shoulders.
>You don’t have long now.
>You muster up whatever strength you have and squeeze her hoof. She presses into your palm into response.
“I’m so sorry Anon,” she says. “I can’t…”
>A small shower of sparks leap from her horn, and the light ceases. The warmth in your body dies instantly, and you’re left feeling cold, prickly, and numb. That numbness is spreading fast too. And you feel…sleepy. Twilight gasps in a sharp breath and hunches over you, sobbing and shaking.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobs over and over again. She looks up into your face with an expression of grief and regret. “I love you, I’m sorry.”
>You force out a smile, as warm as you can make it, and you aren’t quite sure that you’re not crying right now too.
Let go Twilight. It’s ok. It’s safe for you now, no one will hurt you again. And I got to see you one more time, not a bad way to go. Don’t worry Twilight.
>It’s ok to let go.
>A shadow passes over your quickly fading vision.
>You feel the colors and shapes of your surroundings slip away from you. This is it. This is what it feels like to die.
>Then you hear a voice you know only from speeches, from your one meeting months ago, and from the many imitations from Twilight you’ve listened to.
“Stand back Twilight Sparkle.”
>You feel her hooves leave you and feel the cool shade of someone new standing between you and the sun.
“My dear Anon,” the voice says, sounding almost like an affectionate mother. “You’ve already died once. And for you, for what you’ve done, once is enough.”
>Through the cottony numbness in your limbs, you feel the ground drop out from under you. You feel the stretch of your joints as you hang in space and color flickers in your eyes. Your chin raises, your head dropping back against one shoulder, and you realize that you’re now in a standing position.
>Then the feeling comes.
>It starts in your toes and spreads up the arches of your feet, the backs of your legs, your spine, your neck. A warmth, a liquid warmth that fizzes like soda and spreads along each vein of your body. You gasp in a breath of the fresh forest air, and you realize that it’s the first breath you’ve taken in almost a minute.
>As the air reaches your lungs, your eyes open.
>A shimmering orb of light surrounds your body, spinning over you like it’s stitching you back together. The ground stretches out, probably ten feet below you, the grass rippling like a strong wind is blowing over it.
>It’s like looking through a veil of golden light, but you can make out the shapes standing beyond you.
>Twilight stands staring up at you, dark purple lines arching through her fur where tears once were. Rather than sadness, her face now holds a gaze of wonder. There’s even a hint of a smile on her lips.
>Beside her stands a tall white figure. Colors undulate from her neck to form a flowing mane, and a gleam of gold rests between her ears. Light arcs out of her horn to surround you and she looks on at her work with a pleased and satisfied eye.
>Princess Celestia in the flesh. And she’s healing you.
>You start to hover towards the ground and as your feet touch the earth, you feel everything again. No pain, no aches, but sensation is entirely back in your limbs. The golden bubble bursts away from you in a silent and glittering explosion.
>You try to take a step bust stumble and nearly fall. Your legs feel brand new, like you’ve never used them before.
You reach out to steady yourself, and your hands find purple fur. You look up into Twilight’s face as she catches you to see tears budding anew there.
>With a sort of amazed laugh, you reach up to her face to wipe the tears away.
“I’m ok…” you murmur to her. “Everything’s ok now.”
“I know,” she whispers back.
>She raises her chin towards you and you close your eyes as you lean in for a well deserved kiss.
>There’s a gentle cough from beside you, and the two of you jump. Hell, you’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone there.
>Celestia looks at the two of you with amusement, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, I can see that a new human in our midst is not the only thing I haven’t heard about,” she says suggestively.
>Twilight shrinks under her gaze and blushes all the way up to her ears.
“Princess, you say weakly, shaking your head. There’s almost no words you can find that express the gratitude you feel right now. “I…”
“Anon, I have heard much of your deeds,” she says with a warm smile. “Twilight sent me a letter detailing the events and calling for my aid just hours ago. I came as quickly as I could.”
“You got here just in time,” Twilight says. “I couldn’t have held on any longer, it was almost…”
>Her voice is shaking and you rest a hand on her shoulder and squeeze tightly in comfort.
“You did as well as could be expected under the circumstances, my faithful student,” Celestia says. “You shouldn’t feel bad about your performance. Of course, we’ll practice more healing spells later, won’t we?”
“O-of course princess.”
“And now there is something I must discuss with you, Anon,” she says, tone sounding a little graver.
>You shrug.
“Anything you want to say to me, Twilight can hear too,” you say.
>She leans gently against your hand.
“Very well,” the princess says with a  sigh. “I assume you now know what this place is to you?”
>You nod.
“And what this place was to him?”
>You pause, but then nod again.
>The princess turns away from you partially and begins pacing slowly.
“When you first came here, I was surprised. That this place could be a person’s heaven… But I was more surprised to hear that another was here as well. I knew it was possible, but I didn’t think two humans would show up so close to one another.”
>She stops and fixes you with a rather stern look.
“Would you say others would find this place heavenly?”
“I think so, yes.”
“And that others would find this place…”
“Yes, I suppose that too.”
She sighs again and shakes her head.
“I was not prepared for this,” she says. “Because I did not have procedures in place, plans of action, the two of you had to deal with this situation on your own. Ponies died, and you Anon…”
>She pauses, and you can see that there’s a twinge of pain in her face.  She looks away from you, and you see the bloody corpse of the other man on the ground. The stained crowbar rests beside it. Celestia looks away from it all in disgust.
“You were forced to commit a terrible act,” she says tautly. “In all my many years, I have never seen anything kill so ruthelessly, so needlessly as that man. And his evil got to you. Because of him, you had evil in you when you struck him down.”
>You feel a tenseness in your chest. Somehow she knows about that moment when he lay helpless beneath you, when you snapped and wanted nothing more than to see pieces of him littering the earth in all directions. You’re not sure how, but she knows that you committed a murder.
>You know that can’t be good.
“Princess Celestia,” you say earnestly, approaching the white creature. “I know what I did was…wrong. In a way. But If I hadn’t done it, if I-“
“Anon, I blame myself to some degree,” she says, not letting you finish. “If I had dealt with this myself or gotten here sooner, you would not have done this. What you did was a terrible act, but it was necessary given all that happened. And…”
>She pauses uncomfortably and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, the warmth is back. She looks down at you with that same motherly affection.
“I do forgive you,” she says softly. “And I ask your forgiveness as well.”
“Princess…” Twilight says breathlessly.
>You realize that she probably hasn’t seen her idol being so humble before. You smile back at the princess.
“Of course. You kinda saved my life anyway. I’d say that makes us even?”
“Not quite,” she says wistfully. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for protecting my students and my land, but I also have a dilemma.”
“What is it?”
“You see, if both of you came here it is likely to happen again,” she admits. “Not often, but it may still happen.”
>You can see how that could be a problem.
“You can’t stop it?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I cannot. And I cannot predict when it may happen. Or,” she pauses uncomfortably. “Whether they will be good like you or evil like him.”
>She nods towards the dead body.
“So all we can do is wait?” Twilight asks.
“Yes,” Celestia says. “But this time we can plan. The problem is that I need someone to watch and wait for me, someone who know what to look for and how to deal with it accordingly.”
>You hear her request before she even makes it and somehow it suits you. You feel a grim smile spread over you.
“Princess,” you say calmly. “You can’t expect a pony to deal with evil humans. You can’t expect them to kill if need be.”
“You’re right, Anon, I cannot. Nor can I spare my royal guard to constantly survey this area.”
>Twilight looks from the princess to you, then back again. It dawns on her and a look of concern seeps into her eyes.
“Princess, you can’t ask him to-“
“Twilight, I’m volunteering,” you say quietly. “You all have watched over me for so long, and now I can watch over you. I haven’t had a place in this world beyond odd jobs and making friends. This is a purpose for me. To protect you from those who find this place hell, and help those who find this place heaven.”
“May we have more like you,” Celestia says earnestly. She walks to you and you can feel warmth from her body, like the light of the sun.
“So be it," she says officially. "This is a great imposition I make on you Anon. You have already protected us once. And there is still that gratitude I owe you. Is there anything in my power or kingdom I can offer you to help in your new duties?”
>You shake your head, laughing to yourself. It's quite the offer, but there's only one thing that comes to mind.
“All I want,” you say, looking down lovingly at Twilight. “Is to be able to go home and be with my friends again.”
It hits you that this is the first time you’ve called ponyville home, and it feels good to you. It feels right.
“You have certainly earned it,” she says with a nod. “But if there is any a time you need me or need something, I will always answer your call.”
“Thank you,” you say, and mean it.
“Now, we can work out the details of your new position later,” she says with a knowing grin. “I believe someone wanted to speak with you alone?”
>You grin back and Twilight again blushes beside you. Celestia offers you a wink then walks to the edge of the clearing. She spreads her massive white wings and springs into the air. Before you can take a breath, she’s nearly out of sight.
>You turn back to Twilight and she looks up into your face with wide liquid eyes.
“I don’t want you to risk getting hurt again,” she says. “This life for you could be dangerous.”
“Twilight,” you murmur as you slip a hand around the back of her head. “I love you. As long as I have you to come home too, it’ll still be heaven to me.”
>She nearly leaps into your arms as your lips meet. You breathe her in as she laces her hooves around your neck and holds you close. In all your life, you can’t remember being this happy. You can't remember one time in your life where everything felt so beautifully clicked into place.
>In fact, this doesn't feel like your life before. You're new. Reborn.
>Your life is just beginning.

---
-Epilogue-

>You often come back to that place where you buried the other man. The uncomfortable mound of earth sullies that beautiful clearing, but it also reminds you of something important. This is where you came to this world, this is where your new purpose began.
>No other humans have shown up yet, but each day you patrol the woods. You start at that clearing then rove through the places you’ve been before, looking for signs of newcomers. You occasionally even pass that great mountain of rock where you and Twilight consummated your love. You touch the rock there and know it saw the start of a relationship that has since never faltered in its affection, trust, and strength.
>Every night when you come home, she greets you with a kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
>She calls you her soldier. And you’re ok with that too.
>Twilight has made a holster for the crowbar, and you carry it with you everywhere now. It was a strange thing at first, a little creepy even, knowing that it killed your friend and nearly killed you. But it is also the only weapon that was used to kill in this world, and you want to keep this place as clean as you can. Should you need to kill again, the crowbar has known blood before and won’t exactly be corrupted by more.
>But you hope that won’t happen.
>You hope that when they come, they’ll love this place and the ponies in it. You hope that you won’t have to fight off the evils of a world you left behind. But if you have to, you will. Come what may, you are prepared to defend your home, your love, your heaven.
>No matter who they are, when they come, you’ll be ready.


-The End-