//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - Gentle Prod // Story: The New Dawn // by gjhorst //------------------------------// Chapter 5 - Gentle Prod Prod ached. He had been standing at attention for far too long. The sun beat down on his dark velvet uniform and made him sweat. He had an itch that he so desperately wanted to scratch right on his nose. Then there was the fly who just would not stop buzzing around his head. He wanted to go back inside and go to sleep. Instead he stood ramrod straight and looked straight on. Such was the duty of the Canterlot Royal Honor Guard. Standing guard over the entrance to the solar tower was more a tradition than a necessity. Inside the Celestial Mechanics whirled away, concentrating and amplifying the aura of the hundred or so Unicorns feeding mana into the sigils. Only Unicorns could feed the energy necessary and maintain the network of mana transfers and channels, so fear of it being captured by Pegasi or Earth ponies was nill. Only a madpony would want to do anything to the mechanics, lest the sun once more wander aimlessly through the sky like the days before the harnessing. So, the work of guarding the tower fell to the duty of the Honor Guard. While most ponies would assume those of the Guard were merely the rejects not good enough to get into the Army, they would be mistaken. The Honor Guard were important to the function of the day to day life of the castle. They were a tradition founded centuries ago when the first castles had risen from the stone Mottes of the first Unicorns. Like his father and his father before him, Prod had trained his dock off to get the privilege of wearing the same uniform they had worn. He stood guard on the honor of the whole of Unicornia. Or was that Equestria now? Prod was still getting used to that. This was a new nation, the “dawn of a new age” that Princess Platinum had called it a few days ago. On the base of it, however, it still felt like good old Unicornia to him. Each day he got his assignments and he would dutifully follow through with them, just like always. So to him, Equestria seemed very much the same. Maybe it took longer for things to change. Perhaps it was foalish to think that change would just drop out of the sky like that. Change would come slowly, maybe even to the Honor Guard as well. The honor guard was very much a Unicorn thing, from what Prod could work out. Would this new unification bear ill news for the Horns of the guard? The Earth ponies he had met during his off hours told him that when the need arose, all Earth ponies took up arms in defense, so the idea of a specific guard seemed kinda wasteful to them. They seemed to not like the idea of doing anything on ceremony. The Pegasi he had met these last few weeks thought it odd there was a branch of the military who specialized in not fighting. He had tried his best to explain how important it was to have ponies who would guard their traditions, but then the Pegasi only asked what kind of traditions didn’t have fighting already included? He would have sighed if that hadn't meant he’d have to move. The frilly peacock feather tickled the back of his neck as the wind blew, making him twinge. “Being a member of the castle’s ceremonial guard was an honor,” he reminded himself, “and with so many guests in the castle, it is important that everypony and everything look their best. You know they are working very hard right now.” Still, why hadn’t he gotten a break for 6 straight hours? Where was Short Haft anyway? Had he fallen asleep in the brothel again? Prod knew he had agreed to trade his morning shift with him, but now this was just getting ridiculous. Prod was now most of the way through his original shift. Next time, Prod just wasn’t going to help that lazy lout. Well, okay. Only if he had a really good reason next time. A butterfly gently fluttered past and Prod let his eyes follow the little wandering bug. Slowly drifting on the little gusts of wind, dipping down onto the blooming flowers. “The worst part of the job has to be the boredom. If only something would happen to make things more exciting.” No sooner had the fates heard his plea, something big landed in the yard right in front of him. Great gouts of wind blew and Prod closed his eyes to save them from the stinging grit. Dust and dirt flew up in all directions. Debris and stones struck him and the wall behind him. He tensed, anticipating the scene in front of him. Had a pegasus dropped something? Was it a magical mishap? Did one of the towers collapse? Was this an attack? When he opened his eyes, he was confronted with a great white face inches from his own. Golden eyes staring directly into his. She was covered in dust from the landing, but even so he could tell her coat was an almost blinding white. She leaned in even closer, noses almost touching. Instinct told him to flinch, but training held him firm. “Can I help you ma’am?” She backed off, presumably satisfied he was not some sort of statue. He saw that a lot from the public. What he didn’t see a lot of were ponies as large as the one before him. Great white wings flared from both sides of her figure as she got up from the stoop that had been required to bring her head down to his level. As she moved aside he could see the yard in disarray and a divot had formed where the mare had presumably landed. She wore fantastic glittering golden jewelry about her neck, so she must be some foreign dignitary. There were a lot of them about in the last couple of days. Perhaps she was one of those horse lords he had heard tales about. He had never heard of them having wings and horns though, or being tough enough to leave craters in packed earth. Still, it was rather rude to wreck the landscaping like that. A voice that rang of authority asked him, “Tell me, what be this place you guard?” What was she talking about, was it not obvious? “This is the Solar Tower, ma’am.” “Oh is it now? A whole tower dedicated to me.” She looked up at the tower and cocked her head. “Mayhaps I should have been sequestered here instead then.” “Um... there are no living spaces in the Solar Tower, ma’am.” She smiled as she continued inquiring. “Then what does reside in this tower? Mayhaps a shine?” She really must be from far away. Every foal knew what was in the solar tower. Still, best not to be rude. “The Celestial Mechanism which controls the sun, mam.” Her head snapped back, and she gave him a furious glare. “What?” Prod grimaced from her look. Her eyes burned with an intensity he had never even imagined before. “Um... the machine we use to control the sun?” The mare looked outright furious. Smoke, literally began to rise off her features. “You do not control the sun.” There was the flash of a teleportation. “Yes we do!” Prod looked to see a sweating scholar who was clearly out of breath. He recognized her as Clover, the princess’s chief magical advisor. She was with an armored pegasus and an earth pony, but he did not recognise who they were. “You see ‘Princess’, that is why we know you cannot be who you say you are. It is we Unicorns who control the sun and the moon! Not some mythical goddess!” She seemed a bit smug in her logical victory. The earth pony merely pressed a hoof to her forehead, “Clover, I swear I’ll...” The Mare cut her off. “You really are such little foals, aren’t you?” She glared at Clover, “You really have no clue what you have meddled with.” She turned and began to walk to the tower entrance. “Guard, stop her! Do not allow her entrance!” Stop her? Me and what army? Prod moved in front of the entranceway, his spear held in his telekinetic grasp. “Step aside guard. You are dutiful, but you cannot stop me from entering. I must see what crimes your kind has committed.” The look on her face shot bolts of lightning up and down his spine. His stomach churned and his knees shook. He had heard the bards sing of dragons draining the strength from otherwise able stallions. Perhaps she was a dragon? Looking into those eyes, he did not doubt this assessment. “No ma’am.” Somehow he managed to squeak out the words despite every fiber of his being telling him to flee and never look back. To go and hide in the deepest darkest cave in the land, as far from this mare as his legs could carry him. “You are made of stern stuff,” she sighed, “and so only force will teach you.” Suddenly, his world was a flash of white as one of her great wings batted him aside. It was like being struck by an avalanche covered in feathers. Prod tumbled end over end for a dozen or so yards before he crashed into the castle wall. He slumped into a crumpled heap. The pain was overwhelming. He could feel his heart pound and every movement brought a new wave of pain.  As he slowly lost consciousness, he heard the Mare yell, “IF YOU TRULY BELIEVE YOU CONTROL THE SUN, THEN YOU CAN HAVE IT!” All went to black.