I, being Flash Magnus, always considered the phrase “Back in the Old Country” to be a stupid opener to anything anypony ever said. Saying it immediately told the listener that some old geezer was going to reminisce about some time from their childhood that they lost as the past moved forward into the present.
The Pegasi of my grandparents’ time loved to start nearly every sentence with that phrase. They would always complain about how the current generation never kept with their established traditions and how the Pegasi were worse for it.
The problem with that statement is that the “old traditions”, at the time, were anywhere from “slightly crispy” to “burned to ash” some hundreds of kilometers northwest after a migration of dragons decided that the land occupied by us was better fit for them.
Never mind the hundreds of thousands of years since that time to present.
I decidedly did not like dragons nor did any Pegasus of the time period. Additionally, and decidedly less liked, was that I now found myself relating more and more to my grandparents. An issue exacerbated by being some one thousand or so years displaced in time among ponies that looked, acted, and talked completely different from those I was used to.
I, Flash Magnus, a pony that was once lauded as youthfully exuberant, now found myself beginning many sentences with “Back in the Old Country”.
Speaking of, Back in the Old Country we used significantly better phrases than nowadays. Mainly, because modern phrases were boring.
Raining cats and dogs. Beat around the bush. A bit a dozen. All boring. All uninteresting. They were so completely mundane as to be able to be used whenever anypony wanted in casual conversation. So mundane were these phrases that a pony could potentially miss that another had even said one.
How utterly pointless.
No, when using a phrase - idiom, I was still moderately behind on modern lingo - it should stand out. When somepony uses an idiom, everypony listening should stop and collectively be required to process what was even said. Then, after thorough examination of the phrase in question, it should be agreed upon that it was the most appropriate use of words given the situation.
Which brings me to one of my favourite phr- idioms:
A black and spidery day.
The idiom in question saw use some time around when, embarrassingly, the Pegasi of my great grandparent’s generation had found a need to move their entire civilization underground due to the aforementioned dragons.
To use a modern word to describe them: they were assholes.
Regardless, whilst living in an underground cave system there were a large number of threats, but the worst by far were Cave Spiders.
They were not the worst because they were dangerous. They were the worst because they were awful.
So, say you were enjoying your day as a sheep herder - we wore clothes then, primarily togas and the like that required wool - you would let the flock out to graze on some cave lichen when, suddenly, the ceiling became pitch black and filled with a multitude of tiny red eyes.
The swarm, or “cloudfuckery” as they used to call them, would then descend in a pillar of ghastly black, grab several sheep then run off with them.
Why did they steal the sheep? Nopony knows! They didn’t eat them because frequently Pegasi would find stolen sheep wandering around randomly in the deeper parts of the caves on expeditions. That means the only possible explanation is that those scummy little bastards were taking them to make us miserable.
That theory had only become more likely as the spiders began stealing armour, weapons, cooking utensils, hay bails, rooftops, and, I kid you not, the lettuce off of everypony’s sandwich.
Thankfully, they became a non-issue when my grandparent’s generation figured out that living in caves was stupid since we, collectively as a race, could fly and walk on clouds.
So, to quickly summarize, one would say that the day would be “black and spidery” when the ceiling turned dark and the spiders decided they wanted to nick something off of you that they liked.
Or, if the theories were to be believed, you liked.
Overtime, the idiom was adapted with the generations as language is wont to do.
My parents used it to describe when an oncoming bank of black clouds were rolling in and about to cause massive property damage with a combination of hail and lightning.
My generation used the phrase to describe the traditional greeting of ancient minotauran raiders who would release a barrage of arrows so thick that it blocked out the sky.
Eventually, the phrase was used to mean any day that was going to be the most horrible, the most terrible, the most wretched day possible.
Let me describe to you several of my most spidery, and most blackest days.
Canterlot had a problem. It was the beginning of her majesty Princess Twilight Sparkle’s reign over Equestria and the Royal Guard was found to be inadequate in supporting the Princess through the coming trials of her early rule.
This was the public reason.
Prince Shining Armour had a problem. His little sister, baby sister, was now ruler of Equestria and there were not enough soldiers to protect her. At least in his opinion. Even after auditing the Guard ad nauseum, a failed endeavor because Shining during his stint as Captain had been quite rigorous on his standards and that had held up over the years, the Guard and by extension his baby sister had refused to do what had to be done.
That had left whining.
Flash Magnus, as a high ranking officer in the Guard, was present when Shining Armour had petulantly demanded that more soldiers be added to the roster to protect Her Majesty.
If Flash Magnus was being honest, he did in fact agree with Her Majesty’s retort that Shining Armour was being an overprotective, obsessive twit with a sister complex.
This did not, however, dissuade Shining Armour and the Princess was forced to accept several contingents of the Crystal Empire’s finest temporarily into the ranks of the Royal Guard until such a time that more recruits could be amassed.
So, after a nightmare pile of paperwork, several platoons were sent to Canterlot and each of their respective commanding officers were assigned a Royal Guard liaison and companion unit for ease of transition.
Flash Magnus was assigned to Flash Sentry. Somepony clearly found the idea amusing.
The first day of their meeting was on one of the many training grounds within the Canterlot Castle proper. Each guard was lined up on either side of the field with their respective commanding officer and readying for their first ever joint training exercise.
Both Flashes, Magnus and Sentry, met at the halfway marker between both groups.
Magnus was a dark orange pegasus with blue eyes. He was slightly shorter than an average pegasus, but made up for it in sleek, lean muscle built for high speeds. He was dressed in the armour of modern times - armour that he felt was too restrictive - and had his dark red tail braided into what was traditional for his time period.
Sentry, contrary to Magnus, was a light orange pegasus with blue eyes that was massive compared to the average pegasus. He stood several heads taller than Magnus and wide enough that Magnus questioned how comfortable Sentry’s armour really was. His tail was a rather plain blue cut straight.
Sentry looked back at Magnus with a wide doofy grin on his face.
Flash Sentry, in the words of modern vernacular, looked like a fucking tool.
“Sentry,” Magnus greeted coolly.
“Magnus,” Sentry said in a peppy voice, “Super great to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I heard of the assignment back in the Crystal Empire.”
Sentry raised a hoof. Magnus begrudgingly shook it with his. That, almost impossibly, made Sentry’s grin even bigger.
For the first time ever, Magnus regretted his first name.
“So, what’s the training regimen for today?” Sentry asked, “I know the training exercises are probably similar to that in the Empire, but I’ll leave it to you to decide for today since we’re the guests here.”
“We’ll do the normal routine.” Magnus then smirked as rather fun thought popped into his head. “For the troops anyway.”
“Oh?” Sentry said, “What will we be doing?”
“Somethin’ a bit more screwy.” Magnus turned towards his contingent. “For now, let’s get this bull session going.”
Sentry and Magnus then set to work barking orders and getting the troops started doing basic drills: running laps, strength training, and combat maneuvers. Afterwards, Sentry approached Magnus who immediately trotted off towards another part of the grounds.
Sentry ran after him, curious to see what he had in mind.
They soon arrived in a dirt circle lined with red chalk surrounded by racks of various weapons utilized by the Guard.
Magnus turned to Sentry. “What’s your primary?”
“Halberd,” Sentry replied.
Magnus whistled. “Swanky.”
Magnus grabbed Sentry’s chosen weapon off the rack, a long pole with a single-headed axe blade on one end, and tossed it to Sentry. Sentry grabbed it easily from the air with his right wing and swung it around to rest on his back with the blade facing downwards.
“So, what are we doing?” Sentry asked.
Magnus smirked and grabbed a reinforced iron shield from the rack and slipped it over his right hoof. He then threw the shield forward like a discus with a small bolt of lightning connected between his hoof and the shield.
It sailed through the air and clanged against Sentry’s halberd as he swung it around and quickly blocked the oncoming blow.
The shield continued its arc and swept back cleanly onto Magnus’ hoof using the bolt connection.
“What do you think ya dumb dora?” Magnus said.
Sentry lunged forward, arcing his halberd back away from himself with his wings, and sliced the blade forward in a sweeping motion with a maniacal grin on his face.
“I think I’m really going to like it here,” Flash replied.
Magnus felt an equally manic grin spread across his face as he met Sentry’s sweep with his shield in hoof.
Minutes turned well into an hour as both Magnus and Sentry continued their relentless assault against each other. Soon after, guards from both sides gathered around them and cheered on their respective COs.
The back and forth finally ended when Magnus managed to dive underneath a wide sweep from Sentry. He rammed his shield upwards into Sentry’s sternum.
Sentry released a gasp as he dropped to the ground. Magnus, for his part, had managed to escape from underneath Sentry and stood overtop him with a smarmy smirk on his face.
“Ah, got me real good at the end there, Magnus.” Sentry managed a cheesy grin through the pain.
Magnus smirked and held out his free hoof for Sentry to grab onto. “Not bad for a flat tire.”
Sentry took the offered hoof with one of his own and Magnus dragged him back onto his hooves. Soldiers in Magnus’ contingent cheered while those in the Crystal Guard groaned.
“Ah, take your raspberries and shove em ya hoofers,” Magnus cried out.
Sentry laughed. “What are you even saying, Magnus?”
“Have a problem with the way I talk, Sentry?” Magnus glared.
“Nah, I like it.” Sentry grinned. “Think you could teach me some of those words?”
Magnus returned to his typical smirk. “Sure, but before that we have something more important to do first.”
Sentry tilted his head to one side in confusion. “What’s that?”
“Lunch, and I bet you that I can eat more than you.”
“You’re on.”
And so, the Flashs’ rivalry began. Everyday was a never-ending barrage of new competitions.
Who can lift the most? Sentry. Who can name every soldier in both contingents? Magnus. Who can eat through an entire barrel of licorice before the other? Anyone’s guess as the inevitable fallout made it difficult to discern a true winner.
They saw each other every day. They trained together, frequently devolving into an impromptu sparring match. They ate together, a competition of its own making with how much food was swiped between the two of them.
Magnus had even begun to consider Sentry a real friend.
Then after a month of this gauntlet of trials, the racing started.
It was a foregone conclusion really. They were both Pegasi. It was more strange that they hadn’t done so already.
It started simple: race you to the castle entrance. Then it escalated. Race you to the barracks. Race you to the bottom of the Canterhorn. Race you to Ponyville.
Once distance couldn’t be stretched any longer without causing time troubles, it became a question of skill. Magnus had proven to be faster, and Sentry had been proven to be more enduring. However, what they wanted to know was who was better?
Risk became a factor. Racing through mountain peaks, busy streets and bustling markets. Each more harrowing until finally the greatest race of all.
The one that ruined everything.
Race you through the castle.
As previously stated, Sentry was a big pegasus and, as big things are wont to do, momentum can occasionally become a problem.
Especially on marble floors.
“Sentry, you need to stop!” Magnus called out as he raced behind the sliding pegasus.
“Magnus,” Sentry cried as he continued his forward velocity towards the solid wood door at the end of the hallway, “I have hooves!”
“Well, figure out the brakes!”
“They don’t work like that!”
Crash.
Magnus winced as he slowed down to a gentle trot. Sentry, all 1200 pounds of him, had smashed through the door and could be seen sprawled out under the remains of what was once a writing desk.
He entered the chambers with a grin on his face. “Well, good job, Sentry. Glad to see your turning is-”
“What the fuck just happened.”
Magnus whipped his head left to see Princess Twilight Sparkle breathing heavily and pinned to a nearby bookshelf. She was dressed in her standard regalia with her dark purple mane askew and violet eyes wide open in panic.
“Ah, apologies to Your Majesty.” Magnus bowed. “This sheik over here hit some of the giggle water too hard and challenged me to a race.”
“No, I didn’t!” Sentry called out as he struggled to remove himself from the wreckage of the desk, “You trotted up to me, whacked me on the back, and said-”
“That you should really stay away from the castle speakeasy,” Magnus tsked, “Really, Sentry. What are we even going to do with you?”
Sentry, from his position on the stone floors of what Magnus discerned as one of the castle’s many libraries, glared at him with an unamused scowl.
Magnus smiled back. Somepony needed to be the fall guy and Sentry had both literally and figuratively taken the role.
“You know what?" Twilight said. "I don’t really care about the reason.” Sentry was wrapped in the magenta glow of her majesty’s magic as he was levitated out of the wreckage of the desk and placed upright on his hooves before them. “Just leave.”
“Right away, Princess!” Both Sentry and Magnus crisply saluted and left the room.
They trotted down the hallway for a short time before Magnus turned to Sentry and noticed the dopey smile on his face.
“What’s that look?” Magnus asked.
“Hm?” Sentry turned to Magnus. “What look?”
“That one.” Magnus pointed at his dopey grin. “The one you’re wearing right now.”
“Oh, this one.” Sentry looked away from Magnus. “It’s just my happy grin, you know?”
“I know your happy grin,” Magnus said, “That one’s different.”
“It is my happy grin, just the one you don’t usually see. It’s, look, it’s not a big deal.” Sentry made circles with his left wing as he searched for an explanation. “Like, everything’s jake. Am I using that right?”
“You are, but not the point.” Magnus thought for a moment then gave a sleazy grin. “You got the hots for the Princess?”
“No,” Sentry deadpanned, “I don’t.”
“Ah, that sounds like denial.” Magnus laughed. “You a real gold digger, eh? Well, actually, I guess you might be more of a cake-eater after seeing all those mares goin’ gaga for ya on the field the other day.”
“No, Magnus, I don’t have the hots for Twilight,” Sentry grumbled, “She’s not interested in me anyways. Made that clear after several visits to the Empire.”
“Oh? That’s why you aren’t going for it then? Well, can’t leave ya hanging kiddo, how about we have another contest? A big one.”
“Oh,” Sentry’s ears perked up in excitement. “What’s it this time?”
“First one to get Twilight to agree to a date.”
“What?” Sentry yelled as his cheeks flushed red, “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will.” Magnus threw a wing over Sentry’s back. “Come on, Sentry. This will be a good push to get you to ask your crush and if I happen to win, I can get a nice evening with the Princess and maybe some consensual cuddling.”
“This is a dumb idea, Magnus.” Sentry frowned. “Potentially lethal knowing what I know about Twilight.”
Magnus groaned. “Okay, fine. How about this?” Magnus stopped along with Sentry. “In addition to getting a date with the Princess, which should have been the only motivation you needed, the winner can demand the loser anything they want afterwards.”
Sentry stared at Magnus then tilted his head quizzically. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
Magnus saw Sentry’s tail wag behind him and his eyes lit with sparks of excitement. “Okay, yeah, okay. Let’s do it. I’m down. I’ll be the, uh, what was the word, cake-eater!”
“Not how you use that word but whatever gets your flank in gear.”
“Awesome.” Sentry smirked at Magnus. “You wanna race back to the barracks?”
Magnus grinned. “You’re on.”