I am a blade in the dark. My movements are mere shadows to my true intentions. I strike without remorse, but mourn my opponent's memories. I take up my blades to cast down those who would seed Equestria with evil, and nopony would hear my name or deeds uttered in even the most remote locations. I am a Samareai...
I am alone.
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Forty years earlier...
A long way for a mare to come, but it was nothing to Patches. The years melted under her as she continued her life in sad solitude and grief that she had become accustomed to. Her dramatic life story that plagued her conscious day in and day out had to begin somewhere, and sometimes, she would relive certain parts of it, even though when she woke up the memories would escape her again, leaving her wondering if the visions were really her memories, or more conjurations of her frail mind to help fill the void left from her lack of closure.
A very young light grey mare sat on the doctor's table, patiently waiting with her parents for the doctor to come in and see them. It was a very barren room, even for a family doctor. The only interesting thing the now two year old mare could look at were the colourful and graphic diagrams of various body systems. They were vibrant, but Patches could barely see them. The room was lit by very harsh fluorescent lights, and she had to squint incredibly hard to be able to stand the bright light. Getting to the clinic was an entirely different story, the young mare had to balance atop her father's back, covering her eyes with both legs, whimpering from the shocking pain that her sensitivity to light caused her. This was the entire reason they were there, to figure out why the young filly could not go outside in the sun.
She sat on the thin paper sheet that covered the doctor's table, looking nervously at her two parents as they sat together on the couch, smiling reassuringly as they looked back at her. Even in the dream world, she could not remember her parents' exact features, and at most, she saw two vaguely pony shaped blobs with horns jutting from their heads. The three of them looked toward the door as a knocking was heard and the doctor stepped in, also very indefinite in his own features. He trotted into the room cheerily, putting on a smile for the child that sat on the table. She did not smile but instead, shrank away as far as she could. This was entirely new to her, and she did not know how to react. The doctor only continued to beam at her before he turned to face her parents to talk.
He flipped open a blank page on his clipboard and dipped a quill in some ink, poising it at the ready as he asked the parents several questions. To Patches, it sounded as though it were white noise. She did not pay attention as she continued to try to make out a poster about the digestive system that hung on the wall by the door. She could not understand any of it, but it was more interesting than the talking the grown ponies were doing. Finally, the doctor stood up and Patches looked at him fearfully as he approached.
"It's okay Patches, let's see if we can figure out why it is so hard for you to see." He gave her a reassuring smile as he dimmed the lights. It was darker, and her eyes opened comfortably now. She could see as well as anypony in the day when it was dark like this, and the room was suddenly interesting again. The doctor noticed this pique in interest as she became more alert, giving a curious and light, "Hmm..." as he started with a regular checkup. Ears, mouth, heartbeat, lungs. He saved the eyes for last, looking into them carefully before warning, "Alright hon, I want you to be very brave and try to keep your eyes open as long as you can." She nodded quietly and the doctor smiled again as he reached over to the lights and started to slowly brighten them again.
He watched her carefully, noting how little her pupils dilated as they were exposed to the light. Finally with a pained squeak, she closed her eyes and started to rub them with her hooves, trying to get the sharp pain out. The doctor gave a more serious, "Hmm..." this time as he frowned, doing the experiment again to make sure he was going to give a proper diagnosis. When he finished, he turned to the parents again after writing a few more notes on his clipboard. He looked up to them and said, "This is indeed very strange. This isn't photophobia like I originally thought when you described her behaviour to me. She doesn't avoid the light by choice, but rather because it physically pains her. As I brightened the lights, her pupils should have begun to dilate to adjust to the gradual change. Her pupils did not dilate at all. I must say that while this is often a sign of more serious ailments, she checks out completely and is as healthy as a horse. I have honestly never seen this before. The only thing I could suggest for this is magic eye surgery, but she is still young, she still has a chance that she may outgrow it. All I can say is give it time."
She remembered her parents gave her just that.
Four months after the the doctor's visit, Patches sat in her room in the dark, staring out the window from the shadows. It was a bright and sunny day, and the window of the shophouse that her family lived in overlooked the playground. She sat quietly, sadness and longing in her sensitive emerald eyes as she watched the other fillies play together, running around and shrieking in delight as they enjoyed the sun. Not Patches.
She sighed in sorrow as her eyes welled up with tears as they always did when she realized that she would never be able to have fun with other ponies like that. She could barely leave the house without crumpling to her knees in a fit of pain from being exposed to the light. She could only sit in the dark, only a single stuffed mare was her friend, and she had seen better days. As Patches sat in the window, she finished stitching up the stuffed mare's chest that was ripped open when it caught on something. Fixing cloth came naturally to her, and it helped to pass the lonely hours that she had to herself while her parents worked the shop during the day.
She pulled the final thread through the rip and tied it shut. Thirty seven stitches. Patches smiled sadly and pitifully as she hugged the stuffed mare tightly to herself, quietly sharing her pain and grief with it as the cloth soaked up the tears that she now quietly cried. She was a prisoner of her own body, not able to leave the confines of her forced darkness during the day, and not allowed to go outside during the night. She had no friends... save for the false one.
She didn't glance up as the door to her room opened. She didn't feel like showing her face to the world as it was buried in the shoulder of the stuffed mare that was almost as big as her. She could hear the hoofsteps of both of her parents walk up to her, and she could hear her mother give a sad sigh as she saw her daughter like this. She spoke up softly, "Patches, did you want to try something for us? We couldn't help but notice how sad you are up here, so we decided to make something for you that we hope will help you go outside..." Patches didn't saw anything, but instead glanced over to what her father was levitating in front of him.
It was a very shallow cone shaped wicker hat. The wicker was woven skillfully by her father in a strong and sturdy fashion. Two lengths of cord ran down from under it, meant to tie under her chin to secure it to her so she wouldn't have to worry about balancing it. It had a very wide brim, almost as wide as she was long, but her father had made it big enough for her to grow into. He held it towards her and her mother motioned with her hoof to her daughter to come and try it on.
Patches set the stuffed mare down and walked towards them. Her father set the hat atop her head and carefully, but firmly tied the hat to her head. She tried to look up at them, but as soon as she lifted her head, the hat slid off of her head and rested comfortably on her back, held onto her by the cords. Patches carefully replaced the hat and followed her parents out of her dark room into the dimly lit hallway, to the brightly light shop house that was closed for lunch. Normally she would have to squint to see here, and she almost did out of habit, but she slowly opened her eyes, able to see clearly as the shadows cast by the hat shielded her eyes from the harsh lights. She gasped in surprise and her parents smiled heavily as she slowly made her way to the front door.
She pushed her way out of it and stepped outside, looking around with wide eyes. She had never seen the world from this perspective before, and it was a whole new world of wonder to her as she wandered about in a shocked stupor, admiring the colours from the shadows that her shader cast on her face. She turned around and looked back to her parents with wide, gleaming eyes, no longer red with tears but glimmering with joy as she ran up to them and hugged them tightly. They laughed lightly to each other and her father turned to her mother and said, "See, I told you she'd like it. Now she can actually enjoy the world like the rest of us. Say, why don't we celebrate by going camping for the weekend? I hear the Everfree Forest is very nice this time of year." Her mother nodded in agreement and smiled lovingly as her child embraced her, happy that she had cured Patches of her tears. Patches soon ran off to play with the other children, joining in immediately as she ran around, happy as could be.