//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Loose Ends // by TheCrazedTurkey //------------------------------// Chapter 5 December 5 I’ve made it. After two years, I’ve finally become an official member of the Royal Guard. I actually got initiated two months ago, but I’ve been busy. After the incident with the changeling, the professor remained in the hospital for a month. After that, he decided to retire. Things were pretty normal for the rest of the year. We attended our classes, and, once a month, went to visit our families on weekends. Usually, when we did this, Vigil would go out flying. Bolt and I never learned where he was going, or if he even went anywhere, but we decided not to talk about it. That was Vigil’s business. Who were we to intrude? At the beginning of every weekend this past year, we would head down to the Green Dragon for a few drinks (I decided not to drink very much, though, because that stuff is strong). Eventually, the bartender knew the three of us by name. I remember, the night before we were going to get initiated, we walked into the small pub, and I heard him call heartily, “THERE THEY ARE!” The bar instantly went quiet. Everypony looked at the three of us. “Fillies and gentlecolts,” The bartender continued, “Tomorrow, these three brave young stallions are going to make a sacrifice few would even dream of making. They, as some of you may know, are going to become Royal Guards! That’s right, everypony! These are some of the colts who will be out risking their lives, just so we can have the opportunity to drown ourselves in alcohol!” Everypony guffawed at this, Bolt, Vigil and I included. “But really,” he finished, “These three are some of my dearest friends, and, so, I’d like to propose a toast to them, and everypony else who is willing to sacrifice his or her life for his or her country.” He, and everypony else in the pub raised their glasses, and shouted, “TO THE ROYAL GUARD!” in unison. They then proceeded to gulp down as much beer as possible before running out of breath. The bartender then turned up the music as loud as possible and made his way through the crowd toward us holding three pint-sized mugs. “How many bits is that gonna cost us?” Bolt asked as he took one of the mugs. “Don’t you worry about it. It’s on the house!” the bartender said jovially as Vigil and I took the remaining two mugs, “Also, if you could, I want to keep these, just as a little something to remember me by.” “Thanks,” Vigil said after already gulping down a small amount of the ale. “Was this your idea?” I asked, surprised that he would throw a party (because that’s exactly what it seemed to have turned into after the toast; I even noticed several decorations, like the confetti that littered the ground). “Actually,” he said, scratching his mane, “It was my niece’s idea. I wanted to do something special, and this was her recommendation. I’ll tell you what, I’m impressed. She’s only seven, and yet, she comes up with some of the best parties I’ve ever seen. Kid’s a natural, I tell ya!” With that, he gave each one of us a pat on the back, bode us farewell and went off to mingle. As he cantered off, we all held up our mugs. “To life,” I said, before taking a swig from the mug along with my companions. And so, we spent the evening drinking, talking, and laughing (and, at one point, Vigil and some random pony started singing a chorus of “Danny Colt” drunkenly, but I digress). Bolt and I only drank half of our pints, sneaking outside and dunking the rest in a dark alley nearby afterward. After everypony started leaving, we decided to get back to our apartment as well. Bolt and I supported Vigil, seeing as he was so drunk he could barely stand on his own four legs. It took a while, but somehow, we managed to get him back in one piece (and let’s just say, building Canterlot on a cliff-side probably wasn’t a very bright idea). The next morning, I was shaken awake by Vigil. Although he’s one of those guys who’s seemingly immune to hangovers, I was surprised to see him up so early. When I looked at my alarm clock, it was 6:00; the ceremony didn’t start until noon. “What is it?” I said groggily. “There’s somepony in at the door. Says she knows you,” Vigil explained. This caught my attention. Who could it be? Cadence didn’t know where I now lived; I had meant to tell her, but I had never gotten around to actually doing it. Dad wasn’t the type of pony to get up this early, and, if Mom were up right now, it meant she was probably shopping. That left only one pony… Twilight Sparkle sat on one of the many old cushions laid out around our apartment. She seemed deeply engaged in conversation with Bolt. I noticed a knapsack strapped to her back, and recognized it as the one I had used when I was her age. This wasn’t why I was interested in it, though. I found it interesting because, on occasion, the bag shook violently. I waved, trying to get my sister’s attention. It worked, as she instantly turned to look at me. She smiled, finished whatever conversation she was having with Bolt, and trotted up to me. “Whatcha doing here, Twilight?” I asked. “Oh, I just stopped by to wish you luck!” she said, “Y’know, what with you going into the Royal Guard and all.” She was uncharacteristically bright on this topic. “Okay, then what’s in the bag?” I inquired. “Oh, this?” she replied, taking it off and opening it, “It’s your new brother.” Puzzled, I looked into the open bag. Inside was a sleeping purple dragon. “When did you get this?” “Oh, remember that exam I had to take to get into Princess Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns?” she asked in one breath. “What? I didn’t hear about that.” “It happened last year! You know, I had to hatch a baby dragon, there was this big explosion and… didn’t Mom and Dad tell you about it?” I just stared at her blankly. She then proceeded to tell me about how our parents had enrolled her in Princess Celestia’s school not long after I had left. Though she had struggled, she had managed to… well, let’s just say, she did much more than just pass after there had been a huge “explosion of colors,” as she described it. Because of the raw power she obviously possessed, Princess Celestia decided to personally train her in the art of magic. Twilight would actually be moving into the school to live there as soon as she was old enough to move out. “So, why haven’t I seen ‘Spike’ before now?” I asked as she finished. “He was been kept in a facility at the palace, because his abilities were still developing,” she explained as she watched the dragon waddle around the room with an almost motherly look in her eye, “I wanted you to come with me to see him on one of your visits, but Princess Celestia said not to let him see anypony from the outside world until he became stable.” Spike was now sitting atop Bolt’s back, pulling on his mane with both claws. “Aaw, he likes his Uncle Bolt,” Vigil said, striding into the room. Suddenly, Spike burped, and a jet of flames shot from his mouth, enveloping Vigil. When the fire died down, Vigil simply stood there, his face singed black, and part of his mane still burning. “Well, if you need me, I’m gonna go wrap my face in gauze,” he sighed, extinguishing the still lit part of his mane with a hoof. He then trotted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. “You sure you should be doing that with those kinds of burns?” Bolt called out. “I’ll be fine,” Vigil replied, “But, to answer your question, no. I have no idea.” After this, Twilight grabbed Spike, who said, “buh-bye” to Bolt as he went back into the sack. She gave me a quick hug, saying, “Take care.” She said good-bye to Bolt, and bode farewell to Vigil by yelling, “BYE, WHAT’S-YOUR-NAME!” from across the entire apartment. “It’s Vigil,” he responded, emerging from the bathroom, his face heavily bandaged. She waved to us one last time, and shut the door behind her. “I like that kid,” Vigil commented. We spent the rest of the morning eating breakfast and getting ready for the ceremony. We each showered, and Bolt tried out a healing spell Twilight had told him about on Vigil. The result was an explosion that sent the two flying across the room in opposite directions, but, on the bright side, Vigil’s burns were healed. Vigil then wrapped the bandages around his now injured right foreleg, and kept his distance from Bolt for the next two hours. We each dressed in our formal uniforms, combed our manes and headed out to the palace, where the ceremony would be held. When we arrived at the courtyard, we noticed that several changes had been made, the most noticeable of which was the fact that a stage had been erected, as well as auditorium-style seats, of which I counted twenty rows. The front row held all of the guards-to-be, and, as Vigil, Bolt and I walked along the front row, we noticed that the seats reserved for us had been conveniently placed side-by-side. I sat in between my two friends, looking up to the stage, even though nothing was up there yet. More ponies filed into the “auditorium,” yet everypony sitting up front was silent, unmoving. Well, Bolt was doing his usual fidgeting, and at one point turned and waved to a group of ponies I could only guess were his family. While he did this, I looked into the rows behind me for familiar faces, and saw them in the back. Cadence was talking with Twilight, Spike cradled in her front hoofs. Mom and Dad were right next to them, supposedly arguing over something. Cadence paused for a moment, looking at them, and emitted a heart-shaped puff of smoke from her horn. My parents inhaled it, and started acting much more civil. I waved to them, but they didn’t notice. I eventually gave up, knowing that they would see me in a few minutes, anyway. After a while, Princess Celestia and two guards walked up onto the stage. Instantly, the audience fell silent. “Fillies and gentlecolts,” Princess Celestia began a long speech that I barely remember. After twenty minutes or so, she started calling out the names of future guards, saying a few things about them, then they would say the Guard’s Creed and then be given a medal. This went on for several minutes, and I found myself not paying any attention at all. I barely listened, even when it was Bolt’s turn to go up. I heard the Princess talk about how he was “loyal and destined for greatness” or something along those lines, and he came back down, looking proud. He silently sat next to me, and, for the first time in the two years I’ve known him, he sat completely still. Eventually, Princess Celestia came to “Shining Armor”. I rose from my seat and marched, up onto the stage, ignoring the thousands of eyes on me. “Now, many of you may know of the so-called “shield incident” that occurred some years ago, or, more recently, the horrible business with a changeling spy. “May I present the brave stallion who showed great diligence and skill in both situations, saving the life of a valued captain in the shield incident, and, quite possibly, all of Canterlot during the changeling infiltration. I think I speak for us all when I say that we can all rest easy, knowing that guards like Shining Armor are protecting us!” After this, I heard a loud round of applause coming from the back. Princess Celestia then turned to me and whispered, “You know what to do.” I raised my right hoof to my forehead in a salute and recited the Guard’s Creed confidently. I lowered my hoof, and a gold medallion hovered above me, then went downward until it was hanging around my neck. Another round of applause, and I was back in my seat. So, as the ceremony went on, I went back to barely listening. I looked to Bolt at one point, and noticed that he was blinking rapidly, as if struggling not to fall asleep. Vigil, on the other hoof, already was asleep. The time eventually came when the princess got to the V’s, and guess whose name was called first? Vigil opened his eyes at the mention of his name. Strangely enough, he seemed to know exactly what was going on, and trotted up the stairs casually. When he got up, though, Princess Celestia didn’t say anything. She just looked at him with a look of… sympathy. She quietly levitated the medal around his neck, and quietly prompted him to recite the Guard’s Creed. He strode back down to his chair, a blank expression on his face. I was concerned for my friend, but knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Eventually, I completely zoned out. A few hours later, Bolt, Vigil and I found ourselves in the barracks down at the palace, unpacking our things into trunks at the ends of our beds. Vigil was, as I would have expected, throwing stuff into his trunk randomly. Bolt was sorting through his clothes and other belongings, organizing them neatly, if only because he was savoring the fact that he was doing something. I was somewhere in between, simply folding up clothing and stacking the clothes on top of each other, putting everything else off to the side of the trunk. Around us, dozens of guards of all ranks and ages prepared for bed, as the sun was setting, while others were just waking up, preparing for the night shift. It’s been said that, ever since Princess Luna was banished thousands of years ago, the number of guards on duty at night has nearly tripled. I believe that, seeing as Princess Luna was the… protector of the night or something like that. Wouldn’t they need extra guards if she were to leave for some reason? I counted eighty seven marching out of these barracks, and that excludes the Pegasi flying out and those exiting other buildings. The sun had long since set before the three of us were laying in our beds. It wasn’t until 21:00 that I fell asleep. I still haven’t gotten used to military time... Anyway, two months went by. We would wake up at 7:00, just as the sun was rising, eat breakfast, don our armor, and stand around… guarding things. We would mostly patrol around the castle grounds, but, on occasion, we would be assigned to specific groups and march around the entire city, watching for trouble. Bolt and I rarely saw Vigil or each other during our shifts. Since Vigil was one of the most skilled Pegasi in the entire guard, he would patrol the skies along with several others. Bolt and I were often assigned to two separate parts of the palace, so I was alone, most of the time. Being in the Royal Guard isn’t exactly thrilling, so far. I’ll admit it. But… I can’t quite explain it…. It feels like… something’s going to happen… December 10 Four days ago, in the evening, I was called to the war room for a briefing. Apparently, some mercenaries were holed up in some cave, believed to have hostages. So, I headed to the war room, and found that only Vigil, Bolt, and the general were the only ones in there. I took a seat between Vigil and Bolt, and the general began explaining, “You’ve already been given the basics as to why you’re here, right?” “Yes, sir,” we all replied in unison, as we had been trained to do. “Good,” the general continued, “Well, now that you’re here, it’s time for details. You already know that there are mercenaries, holding at least one civilian captive. We don’t know who they’re working for, or if they’re acting alone, so don’t ask. All we know is that they have sent us messages, saying that they will kill the subject if we don’t meet their demands.” We sat in silence for a moment or two, before Vigil spoke. “I’ve got a few questions,” he stated, “First, why just three of us? Second, why not just meet their demands? We could avoid the loss of life way more easily if we did that. Third, why us in particular?” “Simple,” the general explained, “There are only three of you because they can’t see us coming. If they notice anything that might mean that we’re acting against them, they may panic, and innocent people will get hurt. Also, if they do find you, they may not react as harshly. Secondly, we can’t give them what they want because they want weapons, and, based on what we’ve seen so far, I think we all know how they might use them. Now, as to why you three in particular are being sent on this mission… I don’t know. Princess Celestia’s orders.” We all let this soak in for a minute. No more questions were asked. “Tomorrow, as soon as you’re up, head to the armory to get yourselves geared up. Then, you have breakfast, then you leave. Dismissed.” We all stood, saluted, and left for the barracks. “Finally! Some action!” Bolt sighed, “I felt like I was gonna explode for a few months there!” “This is gonna be bucking awesome!” Vigil exclaimed. We got little rest, that night (well, I can only speak for myself.), feeling anxious about the next morning. When we woke up, (or rather, got out of bed,) we went straight to the armory, as instructed. When we arrived, the general was standing in front of the large structure. He grinned. “There you are,” he said, “Follow me.” He then led us through the sliding doors of the building, up an elevator, and through a complex maze of small hallways. Eventually, we came to a door with a plaque that read, “mission corridor: B”. We knew that this room contained supplies for scheduled missions to be carried out by the Royal Guard and research to be carried out by anyone with permission from the princess. Nopony ever used corridor A. The supplies held in there was to be used in an emergency. If the Elements of Harmony ever failed, the last resort would be to start nuking shit. Attached to the door was a small metal plate with a keypad containing every one-digit number. The general tapped a few of the keys and the door flew open. Behind it was a vast room filled with shelves that held hundreds of packages of all shapes and sizes. We followed the general as he came to a shelf that contained three backpack-sized packages. He tossed one to each of us, and we grabbed them mid-flight. Each pack held a walkie-talkie, a pistol, some MRE’s, and toilet paper. The package itself seemed to have been made as a backpack for long journeys, with a plastic frame on the outside that you could strap sleeping bags and even small tents to. Speaking of which, the general then threw us each our own sleeping bags and one-pony tents. Each of them had been tossed along with bungees that had hooks attached to each end. Knowing what these were for, we used two of the four each of us were given to strap the sleeping bag to the backpack, and did the same with the tents. Once we were done, the general handed each of us a short sword. With that, he dismissed us and we ate at the mess hall, still with our gear on us. “Y’know, those guys must be really stupid,” Vigil said “Who?” Bolt questioned through a mouthful of hay. “Those mercenaries,” Vigil answered, “They’re holding a few ponies hostage so that we’ll give them weapons that they can use to keep doing crap like that. I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” “Maybe they are just dumb,” I suggested, “It’s not like they’re professionally trained, or anything.” “Yeah, I guess…” Vigil trailed off, looking off into space. “Time to go,” Bolt stated, looking at the clock hanging on the wall opposite our table. We each stood and left the mess hall for our first mission.