//------------------------------//
// Walked Into a Different World 
// Story: In a Chang(el)ing World 
// by Kaipony 
//------------------------------//

"Tell me about the day of the wedding."

"You mean the day they declared war on us."

"I wasn't aware of a formal declaration."

"A bucking invasion isn’t formal enough for you?"

"Tell me about that day. What do you recall about the time leading up to the event?"

“What, is what I had for breakfast gonna help with your analysis?”

“Indulge me, please. It’s important that I have the full picture.”

"…Fine. The day of the attack, it was… it was just a regular day. Bright, and warm, y’know. Too warm to be standing out in the sunlight for hours in full plate armor, but nothing out of the ordinary. Wedding fever was everywhere. The smell of warm bread and pastries. Banners and streamers. Cheap memorabilia with the faces of the Princess and Captain Armor on everything. Mostly the Princess. Bells in the cathedral tower. The whole nine yards."

"That all sounds like it must have been overwhelming."

"It was if you stopped to take it all in. But when you're on duty, you're focused on the specific things that might indicate a threat. Everything else is a distraction. When you're stuffed into a ceremonial post, you can afford to let your mind wander a little, or interact with the ponies around you. But you let your guard down, and ponies get hurt."

"Like Stalwart Spirit?"

“Go to hell.”

“I… That was poorly said. I apologize, Mr. Edge.”

“Just… ask your next question so we can be done with this.”

"...Very well. What else do you remember?"

"Rainbow fire. Smoke. That pink wave of magic. Blood on the cobblestone. It's all over him and the debris, and… and it's on me. Even now, it’s still on me. It's on my hooves with the dirt and the mud, and― This is pointless... What is this going to change, huh? What in Tartarus is this supposed to change!"

"Okay. We can move on. Keen Edge, I know this will be difficult, but I want you to talk about the funeral, if you can."

"It was... a nice ceremony."

"Not the ceremony, Keen. The funeral. Can you tell me about it?"


~~*~~


"Hoof... salute!" In one fluid motion, an assembly of Royal Guards snapped off a crisp salute before wordlessly lowering their hooves back to the grass. Dozens of ponies, mares, and stallions garbed in the armor and uniforms of the Solar and Lunar house guards stood rigidly at attention as nine caskets were lowered into freshly excavated graves. Their field unit counterparts, in sharply pressed uniforms, stood in silent formation behind them. In their hooves were the banners of Equestria and the Royal Guard.

Not even the wind dared to disturb the solemnity of the moment. Only the tiny squeaks from the pulley wheels feeding the rope through their blocks that surrendered the dead to their resting places broke the silence. Then, a lone trumpet cried out in mournful tones while groundskeepers shoveled heaps of dirt over the caskets. The lament continued to howl its call as the coffins disappeared into the ground, committing the dead back to the world that had given birth to and nourished them in life.

When the final note sounded, and the last scoop of earth settled, a turquoise unicorn mare dressed in the formal white uniform of a field unit officer stiffly strode to the head of the formation. She executed a precise facing movement towards the assembled ponies. A wisp of wind ruffled the collar of her tunic and flicked strands of her gray, pixie cut mane into her face. The sunlight glinted off silver bands around her fetlocks, and her dull blue eyes gazed through the hairs, sweeping over her fellow guards until they spotted one individual at the back—a caramel stallion with a dark mane.

"There will be a candlelight memorial held at sundown in the central courtyard for friends and family who wish to attend," she announced in an even tone. "Thank you all for attending." She clicked the silver bands together. "Dismissed."

A collective exhalation escaped from the formation as the assembled guards relaxed their poise and slowly drifted into smaller groups. Some walked over to the graves and whispered a few final words of their own. Many collected in circles, and muted conversations sprouted up about every possible topic.

The mare, two silver bars on her shoulders winking in the sunlight with the bands near her hooves, offered condolences to those who had approached specific headstones as she moved away from the graves. She found her target as he stood alone, weaved through the small groups, and approached him. 

"Corporal Keen Edge," she said. 

The caramel pony tensed, turned, and saluted. "Lieutenant Faithful Watch." The mare returned the salute. "I didn't expect to see you here, ma'am. Thought you'd be―"

"Doing paperwork? Coordinating shifts?" She shook her head and glanced back at the headstones. "Not today." Her gaze fell on one particular grave. "He was a fantastic Royal Guard." 

"They all were," Keen Edge replied. “And Stal—"The stallion's breath faltered, his voice catching on the name. Keen cleared his throat. "He was a better friend. Best one I ever had," he added in a firmer voice.

"I know." The lieutenant offered a dry chuckle. "Try as I might, I never could keep you two apart. Even if one of you drew the worst work detail, the other was right there with him. That kind of loyalty, that friendship is, ahem, was inspiring."

Keen nodded. "When Princess Luna returned to the throne, he took it as a sign. He was never much for talking about it, but I knew it excited him. I followed because I thought that, if it came down to it, a civilian's life was worth more than my own." Keen pawed at the ground, digging a furrow in the perfectly manicured grass. 

"H-He thought that way, too. With him, I felt whole. That guy shored up my weakness. He always joked that, between the two of us, we made one fully functioning Royal Guard." Keen's teeth ground together, the grating noise loud enough for Faith to hear them. "And now he's gone."

"Not entirely," Faithful Watch softly said. "I've lost good ponies before, Keen. If you stick around in the Royal Guard long enough, it’s something you come to expect. Sometimes it's a friend. Sometimes it's just somepony you knew from Basic Training. You mourn, and then you carry on." She pointed to the seal of the Royal Guard that was carved into every one of the new headstones, then swept her foreleg out over the grounds. The lines of white headstones, all bearing the same seal, continued in row after row that filled the grassy meadow. "That crest there? That's how they live on. They live on in what we do, and in that for which we stand."

Keen Edge took a single, heavy step forward, and the mare took an involuntary step back. A bitter scowl had twisted his face into a mask of anger. "With all due respect, ma'am," he hissed. "That's a load of dung. Stal, he died because a bunch of bugs brought a building down on him." He turned back away, the scowl squeezing into a harsh grimace. "And I couldn't save him."

Faithful Watch stepped back in toward Keen. She kept her voice low, and her tone gentle. "I read your full debriefing. The coroner's report, too. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Except it was me that told him to leave his armor behind," Keen replied bitterly. He glanced away from the officer for a moment. When he looked back, the fire in his eyes had banked itself into deep-seated embers. "Maybe if he'd had his armor, it might have kept him alive long enough for...."

"For what? For you to lift an entire building wall off of him?"

Keen opened and closed his mouth, searching for words that never came. Instead, he straightened his posture and blanked his expression. "Is there anything else I can help you with, ma'am? I'd like to pay my respects before getting back to the barracks."

"I hear you're spending a lot of time alone," she inquired. "Eating by yourself. Isolating yourself from your fellow Guards."

Keen's mask did not slip. His face and tone were stone. "I just want to be alone for a while.  May I be dismissed?"

Faith pursed her lips, but sighed. "Carry on." They traded salutes, and the officer stepped aside to allow Keen Edge to march off in the direction of the graves, slowly making his way toward one in particular. Just as he passed Faithful Watch, she cleared her throat.

"Keen."

He stopped but did not look in her direction. "Yes, ma'am?"

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I'm putting together a special team. I want you on it."

Keen's ears perked up. "What kind of team?"

She leaned forward and said, "The kind that goes after changelings. It's time the predator became the prey. When you feel you're up to it, come talk to me." Then she trotted away, leaving Keen by himself. 

Slowly, he continued his trek until he reached the line where grass gave way to overturned soil. At the head of the grave was a simple obelisk with the name Stalwart Spirit with a birth and a death date. Below those, the seal of the Royal Guard next to an Equestrian flag.

Keen Edge stood there in silence, staring at the obelisk. His legs began to tremble until they could no longer keep him standing upright. He sank to his belly and bent forward, letting his chin settle into the fresh dirt.

"Can you see me, Stal?" he whispered through gritted teeth, hot tears falling down his face. "Everything I do is for you, pal, but I need you to close your eyes for a little while. My job’s not done yet.”


~~*~~


Bang! Bang! Bang!

Faithful Watch hurried down the stairs from her bedroom and stumbled onto the tiles of a short hallway that led to her front door—a door which was currently weathering a continuous assault of insisted pounding. Rain lashed against the windows of the house. The only illumination came from the glow of the streetlamps filtering in between gaps in the curtains. Tightening the sash that held her robe closed, the mare crossed the hallway to a closet, reached inside, and levitated out a Ponyville Slugger bat. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

She inched toward the door, the constant beating continuing unabated. The bat creaked as Faith's magic tightened its grip, and with one swift motion, she slid the locking bolt free and threw open the door. Keen Edge stood on her porch, a hoof held in the air in mid-swing, his coat and mane soaked through with rain.

"Keen?" She blanched. "Are you okay?" She glanced up at the heavy skies. "What in Equestria are you doing running around in this storm?" She opened up her door slightly more, beckoning him inside.

"This team you're building," he growled, ignoring her offer. "It's going out there to hunt them down, to stop them." Keen's face appeared to be carved from stone. Impassive, solid, and unwavering. In the dim light of the street lamps, Faith could see his red-rimmed eyes. They simmered with a deep ember of something cold and vengeful.

"Not to talk," Keen continued. "Not to capture or reform, but to find them and stomp them out."

Faith set the bat aside and nodded, watching Keen's eyes. He had not yet blinked. "Yes," she said carefully. "That's the idea."

Keen Edge shut his eyes and lifted his face to the sky. Raindrops cascaded down his snout and throat, weaving tiny rivers of water down to his drenched hooves. He took a deep breath and then opened his eyes, bringing his gaze back down. "I'm in."

Faith opened her mouth to reply, but Keen had already turned around and walked away. She withdrew from the threshold of the door and watched him silently disappear down the street into the night.