Chapter 22

3rd POV

“Hello Lock, it’s been some time…”

“…Phill?”

Lock desperately wanted to believe who he was seeing was just an illusion. That because of his distress after Fancy Pants’ passing, his distraught mind was causing him to hallucinate. But this man, this white winged man who was standing over him as he knelt in front of the kind noble’s cold form, was as real as the world he was waging war in. To make things more unexplainable, it was none other than his old friend from Earth he’d left behind, Phillip Christopher McHaggard. Lock slowly stood up and turned to face his friend, still in shock at the very sight of him and still in mourning over the recent loss of life.

“Phill…but, this can’t be.” Lock said. “How? You can’t be Phill.”

“That any way to greet a friend, mate? Cause I still remember the time when ya picked a fight with that bloke who mocked you for being an American.” Phill said with a small smirk.

“Hey, that asshole deserved it! He kept spouting stupid shit like I didn’t belong in-”

This only confirmed it for Lock, because the memory of that night played out in his mind. It was at the local bar when Lock and Phill were out drinking and minding their own business. Out of nowhere, a drunkard called Lock out for being a foreigner and to go back to his country where he belonged. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered Lock, but when Phill tried to defend his friend by telling the drunkard that he was a military vet for the U.K., the drunkard went as far to insult his honor and said he probably killed his own platoon. That set Lock off as he proceeded to beat the daylights out of the drunkard. Some say if the barkeep didn’t call the cops that night, Lock wouldn’t have stopped and could’ve easily beat him to death. Luckily, no charges were filed against Lock since he was provoked and Phill had a couple of friends on the force that would put in a good word for Lock. However both he and Phill weren’t welcome in the bar again so they just drank by themselves from then on.

“Phill…it’s really you.” Lock said in disbelief.

“That it is mate, that it-oof!”

Phill was caught off guard when Lock pulled him in for a bro hug. Phill stood there frozen for a moment but relaxed and smiled as he returned the embrace of his friend. “How the bloody hell are you here, you fat bastard?” Lock asked.

“Oi!” Phill snorts as he shoves Lock away. “I told ya so many times that I ain’t fat! I’m slightly pudgy!”

“That’s still fat, bro.”

“Ya little shite, I LOOK fat to ya?!”

Lock glanced at Phill and took notice that he indeed no longer was as thick as he was before. Lock also took notice that Phill was slightly taller now, almost as tall as Lock. But the most distinguishable feature about his friend was not his height, nor his clothes, but the pair of large wings on his back.

“Well…you certainly have leaned up quite a bit, not to mention you have freaking wings.”

“I could say the same about ya, given ya also have bloody wings as well. They’re not red cause that’s actual blood, right?”

“No of course not, they’re just red cause they are.”

Lock turned around and was reminded of the late noble who laid on the bench he was placed on. Lock frowned and faced the noble as Phill stepped up beside him.

“Jaysus…look at the poor sod.”

“They did this…” Lock growled as his hand clenched into a fist. “They starved him for months, not even bothering to give him a single morsel of food. He…he was one of the good ones, probably the best.”

“I’m mighty sorry for ya loss, mate.” Phill said as he placed his hand on Lock’s shoulder. “The Lord will make sure he’s well accommodated.”

It was then Lock realized something else once Phill said that last sentence. He turned to face his friend with an expression of mixed emotions; ranging from anger, sadness, confusion, disbelief, uncertainty, and caution.

“What’s the matter?”

“You, those wings…Phill, are you…the Saint?”

Phill sighed and rubbed the back of his head with one hand and placed the other on his hip. He then took a step back and slowly unfurled his wings and gazed at Lock with a serious expression. “Yes Lock, I, Phillip C. McHaggard, am the Angel’s Saint. I was chosen as their holy champion just as the Devil, Satanael, chose you as his unholy champion.”

As Phill furled his wings back, Lock became more angry than confused at his friend. He knew he would run into the Saint eventually, but didn’t think it’d be this soon, let alone be his friend from Earth.

“Phill…why the hell are you here?” Lock demands.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb! Why the bloody hell are you here?! Why did Michael choose you out of all people?! Did you pray to him and he somehow answered your prayer and here you are?! What’s more, the Saint?! What do you mean you’re the Saint?! What gave Michael the right to drag you here and play lapdog for the Angels?!”

“Now wait just a bloody fockn’ minute, mate! I don’t wanna hear any of that bullshite from someone who threw his soul away to sign up with the fockn’ bloody Devil! I mean seriously, the fock were ya thinkin’ man?! The Devil?!”

“Don’t change the subject, McHaggard! I want answers! I want to know why and how you’re here!”

“Because Saint Michael saved me life! That’s why!”

Lock stopped at Phill’s answer and took a moment to calm down. “What do you mean he saved you?”

“sigh…After ya disappeared, I fell into a rut. I was drinkin’ more than usual and no one knew where the hell ya were. It was just another late night at the shop when a bloke came in armed with a piece. I tried to yank the thing away from the arsehole but he got the drop on me and shot me.”

“How are you alive if he shot you?” Lock wondered.

“Glancin’ shot, not direct but enough to threaten me life. Anyway, before I checked out, I prayed to see you again and blacked out. I believed I died but the next thing I know, I’m standing in a grassy field with the leader of the Archangels himself. Saint Michael offered me to become the Saint after he showed me all ya’ve been doin’ since ya got here and I gotta say, ya’ve been very brutal as of late. I also came here to save ya too.”

“What’re you implying?”

“Have ya not seen the state of this city?” Phill said as he gestured to the destroyed remains of Las Pegasus. “Not to mention that ya slaughtered everyone here. I’m here to help get yourself back to reality, mate. Ya’re becoming a senseless killer as the days go by and ya don’t even see it yet.”

“Hey, I saved the mares and brainwashed stallions. As for the rest of them, they got what they fucking deserved. I could give a shit how many of them fall by my blade!” Lock protested.

“Yeah, but why?”

“You damn well know why!”

“No, I don’t actually! Is all this even necessary mate?! All this senseless death and destruction?! It’s not right what ya’re doin’!”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about what’s right and what isn’t!” Lock snapped as he pointed at Phill. “These Caribou brought all this on themselves when they turned this whole world upside down!”

“That still don’t give ya the right to kill whoever ya please! Especially the stallions!” Phill argued.

“I have the only right!” Lock shot back. “Look around you, Phill, have you not seen the state of what this world has become?! I’ve also heard about your exploits, how you’ve been liberating cities and towns as well. So you tell me if these fuckers don’t deserve to be punished! I dare you!”

“Ya’re right, they do deserve punishment, but that don’t mean they all deserve death.” Phill said.

“After what they did to Fancy Pants?!” Lock shouted, pointing at Fancy’s corpse. “After what they did to Equestria?! After what they did to Shining Armor and whoever else’s lives they destroyed?! How can you say that?!”

“Because it’s not your place to decide who lives and who dies! No matter who they are and what they did! The Caribou, I admit, most are beyond redemption, but there’s still those who shouldn’t have to pay with their very lives! They deserve proper judgement! Including the stallions who threw in with them!”

“Judgement?! JUDGEMENT?! They deserve to be torn to pieces and left to rot for all I care! They deserve to burn in the deepest pits of Hell, all of them! None deserve any of this judgement you’re going in about!”

“Do ya really mean that? That ya’ll kill all the Caribou?”

“If it means reclaiming this world’s lost peace, then I’ll do just that!”

“So…does that include the ones who are but women and children?” Lock paused at Phill’s question as he continued. “Genocide, Lock, that’s what ya’re implying ya’d do. When ya say they all deserve death, I’m hearin’ that ya’ll even kill the young and women. Are ya saying after ya’re done here, ya’ll travel to their homeland and wipe the rest out?!”

“That’s…that’s not the point!”

“Isn’t it?! Have ya seen yourself?! Have ya looked back at all the lives ya’ve taken so far?!”

“I’ve never harmed anyone who didn’t deserve it!”

“That ain’t the point I’m making! I get it, alright?! These bastards are the scum of the world, but that don’t mean they’re all bad!”

“Of course they fucking are! They enslaved all the mares and any other female, killed any who tried to resist, forced others to do their bidding, and took away this world’s freedom! I wouldn’t even be here if that weren’t the case! And just so you haven’t noticed, I haven’t seen a single doe or buck or fawn or anything of the sort! Nothing but shitty Caribou stags doing shitty deeds under the rule of their bastard King! Who knows what happened to the women and children?!”

“But what about ponies, hmm?! Ya plan to kill them all as well?! That’s no different from what ya’re doing to the Caribou!”

“So the fuck what?! They made their choice and spat in Equestria’s face! They chose to sign up with Dainn, they chose to turn their backs on their homeland, they chose to indulge in the sick desires the Caribou do, and they CHOSE to not give a flying fuck about what they’ve done!” Lock proclaimed.

“That’s bullshite!” Phill snapped. “Did ya even stop and consider that maybe there’s some who might wish to repent?!”

“There is no justice for those who betray others! I will never give any shred of mercy to those who turned their backs on everything and everyone they lived for!”

“WHAT KIND OF POOR EXCUSE IS THAT, LOCKDROM?! THEY DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE!!”

“NO THEY DON’T, MCHAGGARD, NO MERCY FOR TRAITORS!!”

Both warriors drew their swords and pointed them at each other as their wings flared outward. They glared at each other as the air around them grew thick and tense. Neither of them made a move as they stood their ground, daring the other to make a move. Small embers flickered off Lock’s blade, Surtr, and along his arm as Phill’s sword glowed and illuminated the area around him.

“Ya’ve changed, Lock, ya never would’ve lost your cool like this.”

“You know how I feel about traitors, Phill, you of all people should know.”

“So that’s what this is about? To satisfy your own desire for vengeance?”

“This was never about me, it’s about doing what must be done for the sake of others, no matter the cost.”

“Even your soul?”

“Especially my soul, and anything else if need be.”

Phill gazed at Lock for a moment, then sighed as he relaxed his stance and sheathed his sword. “Lock, what’s this really about?”

“I already told you, it’s about doing what’s right.” Lock said as he sheathed his own blade.

“Is it? ‘Cause I’m thinkin’ it might be about somethin’ else.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Ya sure? Cause it sounds to me ya really are makin’ all this about you.”

“Why would I do that? This is war, Phill, I’ve never put myself behind others.”

“Do ya wanna know why I’ve been savin’ ponies and Caribou? It’s because I’m trying to preserve the balance. I have a place called Sanctuary I’m hold up in, it’s a ways from here hidden in the Appaloosan Mountains. There, I give ponies a chance to hope again, much like ya’re doing with that little growing town of Ponyville. But it’s also a place I bring those who’ve turned on their own for a chance to repent. The Caribou? They’re a right foul race, but that don’t mean they all have to die. Just kept locked up in a box until all this war shite is over and done with. As for any stallions who’ve thrown in with them, I offered them repentance because I know deep down that there’s a chance that they can be redeemed. You’d be surprised how many stallions have begged for forgiveness already and wish to fight back.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do, follow your example? It doesn’t change the fact that they betrayed everyone. And you’re just wasting whatever resources you have by keeping them alive.”

“Well…what about that old mate of yours, Clay?”

Lock froze and looked away at the mention of his old friend’s name. He clenched his fists and glared back at Phill who wasn’t fazed by his gaze.

“Just what the hell has he got to do with any of this?” Lock hissed.

“Probably everything, considering that ya’re so passionate about smiting the traitors.” Phill said as he crossed his arms. “I still remember that story ya told me about what happened.”

“Well if you still remember then you have no right to judge me for my actions! What happened to Joshua was my fault! I made it the rest of my service’s purpose to track down the one responsible for betraying my platoon and I made him suffer for it! If it weren’t for that piece of rat shit, Joshua would still be alive right now! But all I have to settle for is the satisfaction that I sent the piece of shit traitor to Hell where he’s no doubt burning where he belongs. That’s why McHaggard, that’s why I won’t spare any traitor, because they’re all the same no matter what!”

“So that’s it, ya still blame yourself.” Phill sighed. “Even though it was never your fault.”

“Yes it was.”

“No, Lock, it wasn’t.”

“How would you know?!”

“Because according to you, you weren’t the only one with a trigger!”

“HE’S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME!”

“IT WEREN’T YOUR FAULT LOCK!”

“YES IT WAS! I GOT JOSHUA CLAY KILLED BECAUSE I WENT AWOL AGAINST HIS ORDERS!”

Saying it out loud only caused the scar on his back to throb more and more. That day, the last of Lock’s military service, was a dark day for him. Joshua Clay was the Commanding Officer of Lock’s platoon. They soon discovered that there was a traitor amongst the platoon who sold intel to the enemy in exchange for funds and any other contraband they offered. One day, Lock found out who it was and prepared to expose him, but it was too late. Thanks to the info leaked, many men died because of a few pin pointed attacks on U.K. military bases. Including Joshua Clay’s cousin who was stationed at one of the bases. The traitor managed to slip out of the military’s radar during all the commotion and the trail had gone cold. Joshua and Lock wanted to track the traitor down, but the higher ups had ordered Joshua’s platoon to stand down and let someone else handle the traitor. But Lock, he was the type to never let something like this get swept under the rug and handled later.

For three years, Lock spent his spare time secretly gathering information on the traitor’s whereabouts. That is until Joshua found out about his search and appreciated the gesture but gave him a direct order to abandon his hunt. However, Lock had other plans. When the next time they were stationed it was in an area coincidentally near where the traitor’s last known whereabouts were reported. Against Joshua’s orders and behind his back, Lock went to hunt down the traitor to see if he could find him. To Lock’s fortune, he found the traitor but was surrounded by enemies. Lock, on the other hand, was undeterred and proceeded to take them all on himself. One bloody firefight and a bunch of dead bodies later, he had the traitor in his clutches but was discovered by Joshua. The memory of that day painfully played out in Lock’s mind once again.

Flashback

“You stinking pile of traitor shit, for three years I’ve waited to make you pay.” Lock growled as he trudged over to the cowering man.

“Fuck you! You’re a goddamn psycho! You killed everyone!”

“Those the final words you really wanna utter?” Lock said as he raised his weapon to aim at his prey. “Cause I gotta say, they’re pretty shit for a dead man.”

SLAM!

The door swung open to reveal Joshua who was appalled at the sight of the numerous dead terrorists that were slain by his subordinate.

“Lock! Lock, what’ve you done?!”

“I killed them, the fuck’s it look like?”

“You slaughtered them all, Lock! This isn’t what we were sent here to do!”

“Hmph, maybe not what you were sent here to do but it sure as hell is what I came here to do. This piece of shit betrayed all of us, got your cousin killed, and had the fucking balls to laugh about it!”

“Fuck you asshole! I’d’ve done it again if it meant killing a psycho like you!” The traitor mocked.

Lock glared back at the traitor and pulled out his Ka-Bar combat knife. “I’ll fucking rip your balls off…”

“Lock, I don’t even recognize you…” Joshua said.

“Well that’s your fucking problem, Josh. Get the fuck over it and help me kill this bastard!”

“Don’t you dare turn away from me, Lock! You will answer for this! There are better ways than senseless slaughter!”

“Tell that to your cousin, Clay.”

CHA-CHUNK!

Lock paused as he looked over his shoulder to see Joshua aiming his weapon at him.

“You wanna use that gun, Josh? Use it right the fuck now…”

“I’m ordering you to drop your weapons right fucking now!”

Lock growled and turned to aim his own weapon at Josh. “You first, asshole!”

“DON’T DO IT!”

BANG!

That gunshot came from neither soldier as both were yet to pull the trigger. Blood dripped out of Joshua’s mouth as he looked down to see a bullet wound where his heart was. His eyes widened in disbelief as he tried to say something but fell backwards and to the ground. When Lock turned around, he saw in the Traitor’s hand a gun he had hidden in his clothes. Lock said nothing as he cocked his rifle and unloaded the whole clip into the traitor and didn’t stop firing, even when the magazine was empty and the traitor was a bullet riddled mess. Lock dropped his weapon and spun around to kneel by his dying friend as Joshua’s breathing labored.

“Josh…?” Lock muttered.

“You…cough…you…were always…the best of us. Never…forget…yourself. And…don’t…blam…e…”

Joshua’s eyes closed as he took his last breath and died in Lock’s arms. A flurry of emotions surged through Lock’s soul as he stared blankly at his fallen friend. Suddenly the door had burst open to reveal more enemies who were aiming their weapons at Lock and even came at him with large blades. Lock grabbed his fallen friend’s rifle and seethed at his attackers as he charged at them with his Ka-Bar and rifle.

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU ALL!!!”

The fight lasted for several hours and it had turned to night. When the reinforcements of the U.K. military showed up, all they saw were lots of blood and countless dead bodies. From the carnage, a single man stood, covered in blood, bare chested, and armed with a broken Ka-Bar and a still smoking AK-47. It was Lock, with an eye heavily damaged from a bullet’s shrapnel being lodged inside and a large slash wound on his back that stretched from the back of his shoulder down to the other side of his waist. Officials dubbed it as a mission gone wrong and Lock was the only survivor. They deemed him a war hero who foiled the enemy’s plans and killed them all with the help and sacrifice of his C.O. As for Lock, he knew the truth of what transpired between him and Joshua. In spite of that, no matter how many times he’d tell them what really happened, they would just brush it off and tell him that what’s done is done. They even told him that even though his actions would’ve earned him a court-martial and dishonorable discharge, they deemed that he had suffered enough.

Lock spent almost a year in recovery, both mentally and physically. When Lock had recovered from the hospital, with a new eye, and honorably discharged, the first thing he did was to share what happened to Josh to the rest of his platoon and Joshua’s family. He knew they’d resent him for what he did, and they did indeed blame him for Joshua’s death. Ever since then, Lock had been internally beating himself up over what had happened. He felt it was his fault that Joshua Clay was dead because he refused to follow orders, even though the cause was because the traitor pulled the trigger.

Flashback End

“He was a great man…” Lock muttered. “Too great a man…I saw him as another brother of mine. I should’ve listened to him. I swore I’d make anyone who betrayed anyone suffer, so that no one would feel the pain I feel. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is a little bit about me, maybe I am walking my own path for redemption. If I can help win this war, maybe I’ll have honored Joshua’s memory properly in some way.”

“But Lock, your own soul? Ya’d go that far for something that happened years ago?” Phill sighed.

“It’s all I have left, Phill. People may call me a stupid or naïve for why I’m doing this but I don’t care. My past is my past and it should stay dead and buried along with Josh.”

“So where does this leave us?” Phill wondered.

“Since we’re both fighting for somewhat similar reasons, I’ll let you continue liberating the rest of Equestria as you see fit. Just make sure we’re not in the same place. You can go on about trying to help those who wish to repent. I’ll even let you keep hauling in and imprisoning Caribou, in honor of our friendship. Just make sure you keep this in mind: I was the one sent here first to save this world, not you. You’re only here because Michael and his precious Archangels are too righteous for their own good and can’t seem to see the bigger picture.” Lock explained.

“Ya saying I don’t belong here?” Phill snorts.

“It’s no longer about whether or not you belong. You’re here now and that’s just how things are. So you stay on your side of the playing field and I’ll stay on mine, agreed?” Lock said as he held out his hand.

Phill frowned and sighed as he grasped Lock’s hand and gave him a firm shake. “Sure, bro, whatever you say.”

Lock nodded and turned around to pick up Fancy’s corpse. “If it’s any consolation, despite the circumstances, it’s…honestly good to see you again.”

“Same, bro, maybe share a drink sometime?” Phill offered.

“Of course.” Lock agreed as he unfurled his wings. “Be seeing you.” With that, Lock flapped his wings and took to the skies as Phill watched him fly away.

Phill 1st POV

I sighed once again as I tucked my hands in my coat’s pockets and strode through the abandoned streets of the ruined city of Las Pegasus. If I was honest with myself, this wasn’t the reunion I was hoping for with my old friend. The conversation had changed so quickly from a heartwarming reunion to the point where we actually drew our swords on one another. I always knew that Lock had kept his pain deep within his heart, even back on Earth when he sometimes drank more than usual to which he ended up getting almost too piss drunk to walk straight. I gazed up at the late starry sky with a melancholy expression and watched Lock’s ships sail away.

“I hope ya know what ya’re doin’ to yourself, mate. I’d hate if we one day were forced to cross blades against each other.” I said aloud solemnly.

Just as I was about to take my own flight away from this God forsaken place, I heard a sound in the distance that made me pause. It sounded like someone was weeping, and it sounded young, too young. Against my better judgment, I went to investigate the sound and kept my hand on my sword’s grip just in case. The weeping grew louder as I neared a building that was still intact and was spared from the cannon fire from Lock’s ships. I scowled at the thought and hoped to the Lord what I was hearing wasn’t what I thought it was.

The door was kicked off its hinges as I stepped inside to see an unfortunate sight. A Caribou stag and black collared pony mare lay dead next to each other. The poor mare had a knife in her chest and the stag had a bullet wound in his head. In the mare’s hand was a pistol with one of the bullet’s shells on the ground. If I were to guess what happened, the stag must’ve killed the mare before she shot him and the looks of it, it seemed she was protecting something. The sounds of weeping returned and they were much louder this time. It sounded like it was coming from one of the closed doors. I reached over to open it and found something that made me gasp.

A wee pegasus foal, no older than maybe over a few months, lay on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, and crying her little eyes out. The poor thing was reaching out for someone to hold her, but she would never get the chance to feel her mother’s embrace again. I frowned as I knelt in front of the filly as she sniffled and whimpered and opened her eyes to look at me. Her eyes were a pretty hazel color, her mane and tail were frizzy and a ginger orange color, and her fur was a sort of brownish red shade. Her bottom lip quivered and she began to cry again, which broke my heart at the sight of her weeping. I reached over and gently picked her up while making sure she was still wrapped in the blanket and stood up straight as I cradled her.

“Shhh shhh shhh, it’s ok, wee lass.” I said soothingly as I rocked her back and forth. “It’s ok, ya’re safe now, I got you.” The filly stopped crying for a moment again as she looked up at me with tears still in her eyes. As she sniffled and whimpered, I unfurled my right wing and brought its feathers up to her. She eyed the feathers and reached out to touch them which seemed to calm her down more. I held her with one arm and caressed her cheek with my finger. The filly then grasped my finger and held it close as she smiled a little and nuzzled my finger.

“A wee little thing like you, caught in all this mess?” I asked myself as I glanced back at her late mother. “I suppose even a mother’s love can protect the smallest of miracles.”

The filly mumbles small baby babble, making me look down at her. She looks back at me and smiles which makes me smile as well. I bring my finger to scratch behind her little ears which makes her giggle and nuzzle into my chest. The filly then yawned with a small squeak and closed her eyes and fell asleep.

“Poor lass…”

I turned away from the door and walked towards the exit of the building. Before I walked out, I glanced over my shoulder to look at the late mare.

“I don’t know who ya were, but I swear to ya: your little foal is in good hands. I’ll watch over her as if she were me own. May the Lord welcome ya in His loving embrace, where you shall find peace within His holy virtue.”

“Very truly I tell you, whoever hears my word and believes Him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life.
Amen.”

Once I finished my prayer I walked out the door and flapped my wings to take to the skies. As I flew, the filly shivered a little from the wind so I wrapped the blanket around her more to keep her warm. Her frizzy hair reminds me of some of the girls from my hometown, even my late mum who had hair like hers. Just then, a thought popped in my head which made me smile and lean down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Merida, your name is now Merida. And I’ll protect you and raise you to the best of me power.”

With that I resume my flight back to Sanctuary, with my new little miracle snuggled safely in my arms.

Author's Note

Whose path is the right one? The way of the Devil, or the Angel’s vision?

Hope you enjoyed.

~WurkyWilk has left the building…