If Armour Could Talk
From my earliest moments, I remember you. That regal countenance I perceived through the ember glow of fire and swirling fields of magical energy. Your memory, master, is a permanent and indelible mark, forever bound within my sphere of knowing.
You were there with the finest of unicorn and earth pony forgemasters as they diligently labored with my metals, dictating to them with royal proclamation each and every fine aspect of my creation with a passion as brightly burning as the forge in which it was done.
My argentine mithril mail, interwoven together and concealed beneath a filigree of gold that shimmered in the light of your sister’s star. Silver-filigreed mithril adornment that bore the mantle of your crescent standard. Matching boots that humbled the ground beneath your mighty hoofsteps. A sleek amber-hued helmet that, in the place of a traditional crest, held instead the socket for a slender horn, and the seat for a crown of jet black.
My form could have been anything of your choosing; a style all your own. Possibilities limited only by your imagination and the skill of mortal but masterful smiths’ craft.
Yet still you chose this. “‘Twould not do to don mail starkly different from those of Our warriors,” I believe you had said. “Stallions and mares ought to be inspired and invigorated by Our presence amongst their ranks on the field of battle, not belittled into meek submission by an ostentatious display that merely rolls the eyes of the enemy.”
Though it was not yourself that wielded the hammer, it was you who ultimately made me what I am, and I cherish that, even to this day. And so I became: masterfully-crafted armor easily fitting for an average soldier or guard, but so adorned with the sigils and badge of your royal office.
And to this very day, on my stand inside your chambers, I still remain in awe at what your great nation considered average for standard issue in my heyday of service.
We’ve seen them, whole battalions of opposing warriors clad in raiment that barely held a candle to our majesty, seeming as if some amongst their ranks had scarcely learned how to heft a blade before the call of conscription had come in their land of origin. For many, such was the likely scenario.
They marched and fought and fell in humble iron, some in the skins of animals, tired old bronze transitioning to the colour of master’s eyes, rarely steel of varying calibres, but on some select few-—alloys both alien and exotic, or mithril like our own.
Those were the greatest of threats, the ones that brought you out to the field in person, to instill the necessary fervor and morale in the defending forces of our lands.
I began my service to you, then.
Equestria the blossoming kingdom, ever the target of other powers, both big and small, equine and not. Other young upstart nations, millennia-old empires making their last attempts to grasp at glory before crumbling to dust, dark forces from beyond the pale; it made no difference to you.
While Celestia and Canterlot’s power arose and grew from East to West like a young phoenix spreading its wings for first flight, in amber clad you stood against their enemies all the same, and so too, did I.
Every swing of a villain’s sword, every impact of the stray arrow, I warded off with all I had. Like a dearest lover, I knew your every curve and contour. My metal shielded you from harm as you dealt it back swiftly, and in return you shielded me from the elements and degradation with care, and devoted maintenance.
Your movements were my own, and after the greatest conjurer of our time imbued me with residual magic, my newfound strength too, was yours. As arrows began to give way to metal, stone, and even lightning all propelled by miraculous breakthroughs in alchemy, my strength still held fast to keep you safe as you quelled invasion after invasion and did your part to rain justice upon the unjust or tame the monsters that threatened whole communities. Such was my age-old duty.
The call of battle. Glory without end, some would have said. But it would seem there was an end, at least for us, if a long and harrowing but finite one.
Though my enchantments always warmed you as if I had been long left out in the sunlight, they, I, could do nothing to warm the kingdom you helped protect like your sister’s star. Such was the comparison of a puddle to every ocean on this Earth.
The stars of the sky always burned bright during your night, but they were too distant, were they not? Like the hearts you had once sought fairly to gain, that for Celestia were given away freely.
When one of the few hearts closest to you that it was actually within reach fell to the very forces we had opposed for so long, the end finally came. I remember. The heart of that King was stolen from you, and an entire empire was doomed to a millenium-long curse.
Nothing was right after that. For one factor or another, you could clad yourself in my metals and magics no longer. How your suffering weighed heavily on me, master. And then it came to a final, dreadful climax.
Like so many times before, I was there, and though you would probably disagree if we could but speak to one another, I consider it the one time I truly failed in my duty. Nightmare Moon was one dark arrow fired by Nightmare Forces I could not deflect from piercing your heart. Because of it, I was left without a master to serve. I was replaced by a cold, unfeeling thing. Armour as silver as moonlight but devoid of any love, or any soul.
Ironically, it was Harmony’s light and not the dark mass of corruption that was the final thing to spirit you away from my service. And thus my wait began.
But what is past, is past; history follows suit.
While I sat, cloistered away in a closed off section of the capital’s royal archives, the kingdom we had defended together in the many decades before your banishment carried on without us.
Borders expanded, new cultures arose, and trade routes opened. Soon, the philosophy of amity, harmony, and goodwill took root under Celestia’s tutelage, and spread to nearly every corner of the civilized world. Old cities grew and new ones arose. New machines, new magic, science, and ways of life furthered Equestria’s evolution, and so too did it for war, through plumes of factory smoke and young forests of metal and stone towers.
Old armor like me wasn’t needed anymore by the common Equestrian soldier who now fought mostly overseas or on frontiers with strange weapons and magic, far from a now peace-loving and largely idyllic homeland. Now, we were ceremonial, worn only in regular service by Celestia’s Royal Guard. As for me, the hallowed halls of a royal museum was my lot.
Until you came back, master.
The day you arrived and extricated me from the piercingly curious eyes and harshly flashing lights of those who barely understood the true significance of the very halls of history they tread, was the happiest day since our victory in the epic battle against Lord Tirek, in an age now sung about only by bards.
Your form was one I hadn’t seen in centuries. The paler blue fur and silver locks of mane. A sign of weakness, to be sure, but your eyes through the glass case of my exhibit told me the whole truth.
Strength was indeed within you, and it was growing fast.
Weeds would be humbled.
But something too, was different. The Elements of Harmony had done far more than simply free you of Nightmare's grasp. Strength that had been Star Swirls, then mine, had now clearly been passed onto you. All was clear to me, then. Your nostalgic smile was the final confirmation.
That strength combined with your own carried with it the collective emotions, hopes, fears, dreams, and pride of a whole kingdom. And before my retirement was finally rendered full, you wielded all of us together, one final time against the Nightmare Forces with a new generation of heroic ponies, ready to defend one of the world’s greatest civilizations.
Victory followed, as is the natural order of things. I sit now on my stand, in pride of place within your chambers, as luminescent and polished as the day of my forging.
I can rest easy.
We have passed on the torch, and though the new defenders may not be clad in amber like you once were, Master Luna, I think you would agree that they are no less formidable.
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A very good read in dead. Get it?
5944617 Ha ha. So, what did you specifically think of the story? Any likes, dislikes? Looks like this one is going to pass under the radar of most.
That was... so cool. I loved every detail but I sometimes got carried away and didn't understand what was happening, though in the end I got all of its wonderful details. The story was beautifully written and went smoothly.
5944943 Thanks so much, I'm glad you liked it
I'm not gonna lie, I thought this was related to Halo because of the name.
5944955 I know how difficult it is to write from the perspective of an inanimate object, and I have to say, you did well.
Great story. A unique and enjoyable perspective. I hope it gets more notice. It's very well written.
5945022 Despite it not being related to Halo, the title actually is inspired by the ship's name.
5945028 Thank you!
5945041 Glad you liked it!
5945057 I must agree with Dusty Hooves, well done my friend.
5945127
5945128 there is one thing though, I'm not sure if it's true in this circumstance, but my English teacher has told me that both indenting and spacing your paragraphs is redudent grammar wise, but I think it actually helps this story, so feel free to ignore it.
5945180 Yeah, this type of paragraph formatting is actually pretty common on FimFiction, considering that none of the text is obviously actual physical print in a book. Easier on the eyes when reading off a screen.
5945199 yea, it is easier to read on my iPad in that format.
I certainly liked it. The interesting perspective and the good grammar/spelling kept me around to the end, but I'm having difficulty pinning down why I liked it apart from that.
After thinking about it for a few minutes, I think it may have been the intimacy. The relationship between a warrior and their armor is a rather intimate one; they rely on each other for their continued existence and safety, and seeing it from the perspective of the armor was interesting.
Oh, and one minor thing:
I think you meant "The" at that spot.
5945490 Thanks, and good eye. Little stuff like that tends to slip by me.
Izanagi I like it as its a change of pace from your other stories in a good way. It was a bit heartwarming and unfortunately It seems that it will go largely unnoticed.
And the idea that Equestria really does have a powerful modern military that we've never seen or heard of in the show is because all the conflict is happening over seas.
Nicely done, Izanagi. :)
5948244 Many thanks, anything in particular that you liked about it?
5948555 Big fan of the concept. :P I've written a lot with weapons having souls and such, so the point of view is an enjoyable read.
I really like how you wrote a rather serious short story, but kept a tinge or two of humor in it. Instead of feeling somber when I finished, I felt uplifted. Great job.
This idea is amazing. Luna's armour tells its history. It is a really interesting point of view, a wonderful monologue. I like your writing style and this story.
I LOVED IT !!! I didn't know that she had fought tirek in the past, but what are the nightmare forces she fought upon her return from exile? I love luna. I would be wearing that armor all the time, as a symbol of her readiness to battle any force threatening equestrian. her prowess would never be forgotten, or second guessed. she stands ready to defend, with pride and honor. Forever.
Very inspirational, you really nailed the point of view of the armor, makes me think it's a real, living being :)
BRUH. This was so GOOD. I imagine that the armor had British accent through this fic, and I have no clue as to why, but it seemed to fit. Lovely stuff.
when i read the title i was like Unsc frigate epicness!!!!
. i didnt read the disc and i was very confused when reading this.
This was an unusual story. I am not even entirely certain if I should call it that.
But I enjoyed it nontheless.
You very clearly communicated the mindset and personality of a totally loyal and devoted servant. I really felt the love that the armor holds for its master in the text.
Have a like.
If armor could talk... mine would have much complaining.
"Would it kill you to DODGE every once in a while?!"
This makes me want to get back onto working on my armor project.
~Crystalline Electrostatic~
13:9_9/15/2015
If my armor could talk, it'd always be SAPI. *rimshot*
Starswirl's or Star Swirl's.
I just hope that this incarnation isn't a xenophobe.
7004464 Thankies for pointing out the typo!
7004560
You're welcome! So this Starswirl isn't a Trumpswirl right?
There can only be one Trumpswirl.
7004567 Yeah, this was just regular Star Swirl.
7004585
Pphew!
A very enjoyable story. I'll contact you about something in a few days... Have a thumb up!
7908485 Danke! And contact me in regards to what?
This was rather sweet. :) Plus it's given me an idea for a comedy about Luna trying to get her old stuff out of a museum...
7977779 Thank you so much!
Also, doo eeet! That would be really nice to read
A fascinating perspective and a touching tale. Luna bore Loyalty in the days before the Nightmare; it's not surprising to see that even the inanimate was devoted to her once it knw her well. Thank you for this.
7977779
"We have Our claim ticket. Everything is in order. Wherefore dost thou refuse Thy Princess service?"
"Your Highness, this is a museum, not a pawn shop."
"Then re-locatest thou Our possessions to thy gift shoppe, good curator, that We may purchase them as is meet for thy honored business."
7983585
That's actually a very straightforward way to resolve the situation. :B
I always loved the idea of old and cherished objects getting a soul, and the voice of this one was warm and wistful. I liked it quite a lot.
A very nice story, kudos.
7985919
Armor is best pony.
7983585 A simple, possible solution? Where's the fun in that?
7983870 I want to read about Luna attempting cat burglary. Gimme now.
5944837 As we speak, I am sure Bungie's men-in-MJOLNIR are approaching your home with a colorful variety of instruments with which to incapacitate your kneecaps. Prepare your body for the Copyright Treatment.
7987845 Lol wut, Bungie ain't got no more Mjolnir, let alone Recon Mjolnir, dawg. You're thinking 2007. This is 2017, they'll send some 343 Guilty Spark knockoffs with no proper story context and Activision mooks after me. They cannot win, the war shall last seven seconds
7987861 Is my horse tongue detecting a hint of a salt in that statement...?
7987896 The joke is further for me if you happen to take the salt as sewper cereal.
7987899 "sewper"
wut?
7986388 Yes.