• Published 29th Oct 2013
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Memoirs in Ink and Blood - Corah Il Cappo



She betrayed us. She mislead us. She imposed her rule upon us. We rose in defiance. Sequel to The Monster We Made

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I Am Shining Armor

This entire plan was madness.

What could we do but futilely hurl ourselves against the wrath of God? Had Blueblood forgotten that she had nearly killed him in that Canterlot throne room? Had they all forgotten that Twilight had killed not one, but two other gods in her quest for power? Did they forget that she had killed our loved ones?

This was a time to be grieving, not celebrating.

This march on Canterlot was nothing but a fools dream. Even if there was a chance for us to succeed, it was minuscule at best. Why were so many willing to put their faith into something that was, quite frankly, impossible?

I was a soldier. I had been Captain of the Guard for years now, and had seen action against both Griphons and Changlings in my past. I had fought and served and bled for my country both at home and abroad, and I was certainly not one to give up without a fight. However, we were ill equipped for any sort of combat.

These ponies came unarmed. I suppose you could give somepony a mean slap with a tambourine, or break a violin over their head, but it was no substitute for a blade or polearm. Glancing around, I swore I was the only one with the foresight to hold on to my sword. Even if they had come armed, what use would it have been? These ponies were not soldiers. They were farmers, soapmakers, mail-mares, and other mundane workers. They had no training, not even to the level that a militia might. Without proper training, they would scatter at the first sign of conflict.

We were trekking to death, and yet we moved along like a parade. Was this any way to remember those who had fallen? Was this how Cadence or Celestia or the countless others who had died wanted to be remembered? It certainly was not.

If nopony would remember the dead, I would. I did not sing. I did not dance. I merely held tightly to my sword and marched in silence. If I was going to my death, then I would face it as a soldier ought. I determined to face my death with dignity and with my eyes wide open.

I had been preparing for this day for a long time. When I had first traveled to Canterlot so many months ago, I had come with the intent of either avenging Cadence or dying in the attempt. In the end, I did neither. However, every day since then I had been mentally preparing myself for death. There wasn't much physical preparation to be made. My parents were nowhere to be found, my sister was out to kill me, and my wife was dead after all. No, the preparation I needed to make was all in my head. Getting my attitude in line, debating what my last words ought to be, and girding myself for the possibility of intense pain just before release.

Blueblood's speech may have been well worded, but in the end, isn't that all it was? Just words?

Princes have a way with words, but Princes do not fight wars. Wars are fought by soldiers. Soldiers armed with spears, shields, swords, and canons. Not words.

So there I was, the last vestige of sanity amid a world gone mad. Then, somepony tapped me on the shoulder.

She looked young, probably no older than my sister. Blue coat, silvery mane. She smiled up at me from beneath a tattered, star studded wizard hat.

"Dance with me?"

I shook my head, looking away from the mare, yet she persisted.

"Why not?"

"Because none of this makes sense! We're walking to face down with an invincible goddess and what do we have? We have music, dancing, and a bunch of giggling fillies. Our enemy can kill us with a thought, and decimate cities with a glance, and nopony but me even has the sense to come armed?"

In an instant, my sword had flown from its sheath, suspended in midair by my magic.

"This. This sword here? It's won wars. Tell me, when was the last time that a war was won with dancing?"

She was quiet, her eyes moving slowly over my blade. She pointed to a rather large notch in the steel, quirking an eyebrow slightly.

"Your sword is chipped here. Looks like a pretty big one too. What happened to it?"

"That chip there is from hitting Twilight's foreleg with the blade. Nearly shattered on impact. It was like beating a sword against a wrought iron beam. It didn't even phase her."

"What makes you think that this time it will?"

I opened my mouth to reply, not no words came. What could I say? I didn't exactly expect it to work, yet still, to try and fight was certainly better than the alternative, right?

"That's the thing about a sword. If you put enough armor between it and its target, the blade can't cut or pierce. But joy? Laughter? They're contagious. Doesn't matter if you're behind steel plate armor or just a wizard hat and a robe. It'll go right through it. Besides, do you really want to live out your last moments feeling sad and hopeless?"

I fell silent. I took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh.

"Alright. Just one dance."

And so I danced. I let all my sorrow, all my fear slip away, even if for just a moment. I felt something well up in my chest, something warm and soothing. I laughed out loud, whirling and twirling to the sound of the music. For a brief moment I glanced down at my hip.

I had forgotten my sword.

I am Shining Armor.

I am a slave to sorrow no more.

Author's Note:

Vakittu cherevotam l'aetim