Try

by Nailah

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, White Lightning, Sad
Length: 2584

"Is there a good way to deliver bad news? If there is, I haven't found it."

"Is there a good way to deliver bad news? If there is, I haven't found it."

Prereaders: Applezombi, Garatheauthor, Stinium_Ruide, Holtinator, Undome Tinwe, Oceanbytes, Vis-a-Viscera, and a few others.

Edited by: Stinium_Ruide, Dreams of Ponies.
Cover-art by: Snow Quill

Dedicated to the soldiers, the fighters, the ones on the other side of the door.

Featured-10/17/2020
Featured on Equestria Daily: December 1st 2020 Try

Published 2020-10-18 00:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-10-18 00:10:00 UTC

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.