It Begins Somewhere

Lead balls struck the barricade with a rythm no different from the rain drenching our coats. The crack of gunfire echoing that of the thunder on that day.

On the other side of the street stood our enemy. Ponies, young and old, some in hacked up armor, most wearing nothing but civilian clothes, and almost all wearing no more identification than a dark blue legband. Militia ponies, just like us. Before they took arms, they were farmers, workers, friends and lovers. Some were our neighbours, some were forgotten acquaintances, and all were our fellow Equestrians.

Today, they are our enemies. As they had been yesterday and for the past few weeks. And as they will be for the foreseable future. For once I did not have to think about the sun and moon vying for the heavens, as the cloud cover and downpour hide them from all of us.

And here I was. Musket in telekinesis, front held in a crevice of our barricade, pointed at these ponies. I couldn't tell if it was lucky for me to be a unicorn or not. Whether my earth pony and pegasi compatriots trembled with barely contained fear or simply from the cold, I couldn't tell. But unlike them, my telekinesis kept my weapon unaffected by my own shivers. It stood still as it was pointed at our enemies.

I closed my eyes.

Bang.

The bullet flew across the no mare's land that the street had become. I wasn't the only one to take potshots at the enemy barricade. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't tell if my bullet had struck true or had been a waste. I didn't know which one was better. I didn't want to know.

I left the barricade to hide under the roof of an open building and slowly began the process of reloading the musket. The rain had made the air so humid it was only by Celestia's grace that the powder would ignite. I ramed the bullet deep inside the musket, and began to put in a new percussion cap as I left my cover. As I did so, I looked up at the rooftops of the buildings surrounding our street. And that's when I caught it amidst the fog and smoke surrounding me.

Behind us, one of our pegasi was trying to intercept a thestral. This thestral was flying toward our lines. I don't know how she managed to flank us, and neither the stallion chassing her seemed to know. Nor did he care. As I focused on her, I realised two things: One, she was visibly terrified. Two, she was fumbling with something in her hooves.

The realisation of what that thing was struck me with fear. She was mere seconds from delivering it on our barricade.

I began to rush to intercept the two fighters. Oh I couldn't fly, that is true. But I had one shot. And I'd make it count. As the distance closed between me and the thestral, I raised my weapon.

For once. I did not close my eyes.

Bang.

The bullet struck true.

The look of fear that followed her yelp of pain as she tumbled down. It lasted only a mere instant, and delayed her enough for the pegasi to catch up to her, but it stuck with me. I could only stare straight where she was a moment ago. I was frozen by ... fear ? Guilt ? I had looked at that mare in the eyes and shot her. I didn't know who she was. And I wouldn't be able to see it for myself. As the thing in her hooves landed a scant few meters away from me.

I barely had the time to turn my eyes toward it before my world turned white, pain tore through my body, and I fell unconscious.

.

.

I gasped both from surprise and pain as my senses began to return. This gasp quickly turning into a coughing fits and grunts of pain as I tried to right myself and stand up.

A hoof on my shoulder prevented me from doing so. "Don't move, I've already struggled enough stitching your side back together, I don't need you to reopen it." The voice tied to this hoof told me with a sort of humorous authority.

"Wha- koff What happened ?" I asked, trying to assess the situation. I founding myself unable to look at the stallion. The right side of my head was covered in bandages. Before I could raise my right hoof to touch them, his hoof stopped mine.

"From the recount of your comrades, you got blown by an airdropped grenade. You were the only one seriously hurt by the explosion. Various fragments struck the right side of your body, luckily enough for you, nothing vital was hit. You'll be back on your hooves soon." As the stallion told me with an almost bored tone, I heard this same voice move away from me and then back, before I could ask what he was doing, a glass of water was presented in front of me.

"Let me help you." He said, lifting the drink to my lips. "Your horn sustained damage. Only a minor crack, but I wouldn't use magic for the coming days if I were you."

As I drunk greedily from the liquid given to me, I could finally look at the stallion nursing me ... who appeared to be a physician if his clothes said anything about his qualifications. Cool blue eyes stared down at me set on the face of a slightly aged grey-furred stallion. "You're ... not from the guard." I remarked matter-of-factly.

"And you're not a soldier. Yet here I am fixing wounds inflicted upon you by weapons of war." As he uttered those words, parts of the events leading me to be on this table came back to me.

"The ... thestral, what happened to her ?" Maybe ... maybe she was also in the medical wa- ... clinic ? Yes, this place looked more like a medical clinic than an actual ward.

"I do not know, but from the description of the events, I believe she is dead." I winced at those words. I ... killed her. I aimed my weapon at her and pressed the trigger without a thought beyond ... what was it ? Protecting my comrades ? Protecting ... myself ? I took her life. But it was self defense, right ? I- I couldn't have done something else right ? Maybe if I had tried to scare her with a poor shot, or aimed for her w-

The doc's hoof settled on my shoulder, putting a stop to my thoughts. I didn't realise that I was trembling until then. "Is this the first life you took ?" He asked with a soft tone.

"I ... I think." First ? I thought about all those times I fired blindly from the barricade. Never checking where my bullet went. Was it the first time I hit somepony ? If not ... how many did I actually hit ? How many did I actually kill ? "I ... I hope."

"Do you regret it ? You and your comrades might have been dead if you hadn't done what you did." His tone was even, inquisitive, it didn't betray scorn nor sympathy.

"I ... Yes ? No ? They might have died. But they might not have either ... did I really do the right thing ? Couldn't I have done something else ? Something better ?" I asked as desperation broke through. I felt tears forming at the corner of my eyes.

"Maybe. Maybe you could have, maybe you did the best thing. Maybe you made the wrong choice. All actions have consequences, but you will gain little from tormenting yourself over the same questions over and over again. The only question you should ask is what you will do now." He said, resting a hoof on my shoulder once more.

"I ... what I should do now ? What do you mean ?" I asked, unsure.

"Why, what you will do with your life of course. While you were uncouncious, your compatriots managed to force the lunarist forces out of the city. Will you join them to continue on fighting, even if it means looking at ponies through the sight of your weapon again ?"

"I ..." I brought my hoof to my face, this time he did not stop me. I winced at the contact. "Wha- ... what happened to my head ?"

"A fragment of the grenade hit you in the orbit. I couldn't save your eye. I'm sorry." He answered genuinely.

The revelation didn't hit me as hard as I would have expected. Blind in my dominant eye. Such had been the cost of my action. The leader of the militia wouldn't care even if I had a whole leg missing, as long as I was willing to fight.

But did I have the will ? We are fighting for Equestria after all, against the Nightmare ! What will happen to Equestria if she wins ?.. But those fighting under her are ponies too. That look of fear in that mare's eyes ... and the ones in the lunarist militiaponies ... they weren't mind controlled or forced into this battle anymore than I was, weren't they ?

Could I aim my weapon at one of them knowing that ?

In the end, I had no answer to give to the physician.

.

.

A few days later

For the past few days, I've rested, letting my wounds heal. Minor burns and cuts, some deeper than others. And today, the physician had finally told me I was good to leave. I wasn't 'fixed', but I didn't need to take up a bed.

After my first encounter with him, we had kept our discussions relatively light, the topic being generally the news on the civil war, or the situation in the city itself. But that first one kept repeating in my mind. In the end, I still had no answer beyond following the militia again. My parting words with the doc were fairly short, as I took my belongings, saluted the stallion, and moved out through the door.

As I left the the clinic, I turned my sight to the musket on my back.

It felt heavier.