//------------------------------//
// Chapter I 
// Story: Spice and Wallop 
// by The_Ugliest 
//------------------------------//

Far, far away from the land of Equestria lived the small kingdom of Krion, where magic was more of an object instead of an entity. Very few owned magic and the few that did were considered the lucky ones. And, if they were born with magic, they were holy. Our story begins with an enthusiastic mare named Irene Spice, a white pegasus with light blue patterns on her coat. In high hopes, she aspires to protect the kingdom, along with every pony in it. Or, at least, that's what the kingdom sees...

Irene sat at the barstool like she normally did, the same time every day. She drank some of the beer she ordered, sighing. The bartender was cleaning a mug with a small towel, rinsing it out over the small, cauldron-like sink.

"Hey," he spoke, directing it to Irene, "how would ya feel about goin' somewhere sometime? I know ya like to hunt and shoot stuff so maybe the woods, ya know?"

"Sorry, Boris," Irene chugged the rest of her beer, jumping off her stool as she handed the mug to him, "I'm not in search of a relationship right now. You know that."

He came up from behind her and massaged her shoulders, "Oh, come on Spice," he gently nudged back and forth, "we used to be a thing back in our apprentice days. Why can't we do it again?"

Taking a short breath, she flipped around, grabbed him by the arms, and shoved him to the ground, keeping a hoof on him and a sword above his neck. She placed her sword back into her holder.

"Because I was picked to be a warrior and you weren't. You have time to go around and fuck any mare you'd like, but I actually have a kingdom to protect. I don't have time to be with you or anyone else, for that matter. You understand?"

"Dear, Neptune, okay, fine," He shoved her hoof off of him, getting up off the floor and dusting himself off, "you should stop attackin' people who just wanna help ya."

She rolled her eyes, flipping her wing to him as a goodbye, "I'm heading off to the castle. I have a date with the king in a little under 10 minutes."

"Okay, so ya won't date me, but you'll date royalty?" He shook his head, "do I need to marry a princess or somethin'?"

"Not that kind of date, you hobo," she remarks, flinging the door open, "catch you later."

And, with that, she was flying off to the castle, which was about 500 yards away. Not too far for a pegasus to manage on her own. She could already hear the trumpets sounding for the king's arrival. All the civilians of the kingdom were cheering, clusters of voices mixing in a symphony of harmonious approval. She flew in through the back as to not disrupt the ceremony.
By the time she made it through, there were about ten mares circling around her. Some with measuring tapes and fabrics, others with scissors and combs. The head-mare glared at her.

"You're late," she growled impatiently, tapping her hoof on the ground as a sign of annoyance, "where in the world could you have been that's more important than today?"

Irene sighed, "I woke up late."

The head-mare didn't buy it, "Open your mouth."

"I don't get why I have to-"

"I said open it, goddammit!" Doing as told, Irene opened her mouth. The head-mare sniffed her breath, "You went to that bar this early in the morning?!"

She shrugged as the hairstylists fixed up her mane, "What can I say? I was thirsty."

"And a simple glass of water wouldn't have sufficed?"

"Waters' too tasteless-"

"You're going to get dehydrated-"

"Not if I mix it in with my beer-"

The head-mare grits her teeth, "We can't have you drunk when you go out there, Irene!"

"I'll be fine, so stop worrying your pretty, little ass, okay?" Irene slaps the head-mare's arse as she trots away from her, I've gotta go out there now. Hold down the fort for me, will ya?"

Blushing in sheer anger, the head-mare turns her back to Irene and goes her own direction, marching off towards the castle doors murmuring cuss words under her breath.
Irene walks out onto a large platform outside, hearing roars of agreement and acquiescence, with an occasional boo here and there. She stood behind a red curtain and waited for her name to be called.
Out in the crowd stood over 600 ponies. To the left -- from the stage-point of view -- was the regular civilians. Mothers or fathers holding children, boyfriends with their girlfriends and such. In the middle were the nobles and knights, while in front of them were the warriors and guardians, some old, some young. And, on the right, were the soon-to-be apprentices, or wannabes. These few stallions and mares had just finished training to be considered for an apprenticeship.

Finally, the moment came. "-and, with that, I now present to thee: Warrior Spice!"

Irene then stepped out from behind the curtain in full armor, waving to the crowd of ponies with her wings, grinning as if nothing bad had ever happened that day or the days prior.

The king, from behind his pulpit, gave a half-smile to Spice as she stood beside him. "With great honor, Warrior Spice has defended our small kingdom from the monstrous evils of darkness and Lord Hades, king of death himself-" numerous cheers sounded from the crowd, "-which is why I am gifting this mare with the responsibility of an apprentice."

All the wannabes took one step forward, letting everyone know they were paying attention.

"I am not choosing a wannabe out of random. I am choosing only the best of the best, the one that has shown signs of wisdom, dependability, cautious, and overall superb in his or her's special training," he glances down at the third row or wannabes, "Peterkin Wallop, come up and receive your apprenticeship."

For the first time, the crowd went silent.