A shrill cry from somewhere beneath him woke Shining. It was just like any other morning, having the tendrils of sleep cut away by his daughter, but today he did not jump to assist her. He couldn’t.
Pushing away the darkness brought on by his eyelids, he rolled onto his back. Cadance was probably already with Flurry, and without her the extra weight of the sheets held Shining in his place. His head pounded from the intake of light and how the crystals only magnified it. Everything was too bright, and for once Shining Armor wished the clouds would cover up the sky for him.
It was the most selfish idea Shining had thought since he was a child.
His horn’s bandage was a pale, dried out red, from the tip of it he could still manage to see. Sure, it had slowed, but this wouldn’t heal anytime soon. Maybe it wouldn’t heal at all. Thoughts of all the ponies he was letting down tugged on his gut as he stayed bedridden. Another screech from dear Flurry Heart, although this was squeakier — happier. The Princesses didn’t need Shining to save Equestria, and Flurry Heart didn’t need Shining to keep growing into an incredible mare. Staying in bed, just like everypony had told him to do, was a completely viable option.
Shining Armor was stubborn, though. The sheets wrestled back as he tried to get out from under their grasp. A pulse of pain wrung him as he swung his head upwards. His breathing hitched and his rotations paused. Drawing out the movements, he slid his flank out from the slight opening he had made and gradually raised his head to its standing height. The floor greeted his hooves, and he felt the tension in his lungs release.
The library wasn’t far, and even if it took him an hour to walk down this hallway, he was ready to take it slow. Discipline knew nopony better. One step forward, followed by his back hoof. No ache struck him down, thankfully, and he made his way to the door.
Clear hallways greeted him. The white walls were striped in wide intervals with sky blue and royal blue crystals. He gazed downwards as he walked, but couldn’t escape his colors as his reflection walked under him. Some dreary face stared back. Shining wanted to help it find its way, but it was trapped as a reflection, bound only to his sluggish movements and dead-end path. Finally, he turned towards the stairs and the weary traveller disembarked.
Somepony was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, as its long shadow caressed the steps. The kitchen was full of commotion, but this pony was still and firm. In a hectic world, they stuck to their path, unwavering from the food that came flying their way. Shining still took his time, not fond of this chaos which was unceremoniously gracing his skull.
It was the Guard who was usually by his door. With a wave, Cadance trotted over, leaving Flurry to her high-chair and a couple toys. The slow descent ended with clacking hooves and a fearfully retreating Guardstallion. “Shining, you need to get back upstairs.”
He waved at Flurry Heart with a meek smile, and even she tilted her head. “Please, Sweetie, I’m okay.”
“No, you’re really not.” She wore her despair. “This is more than just another headache! Seriously, you’ve gotten concussions before and this is worse.”
“Cadance…” Shining reached in for a hug. His wife stepped back. Flailing hooves and Flurry’s cries blurred together as he went face first towards the ground. His abandoned gut dropped as well.
Magic continued his momentum, but eased his fall and decelerated his whole form. Inches from the ground, Cadance began lifting him back up and onto his hooves.
She was crying and trying to sound stern through the tears. “Oh, oh, Celestia, pl-please just get some rest. I won’t hug you until you’re back upstairs.”
The stunned Shining Armor didn’t respond. He didn’t budge. His hanging mouth just coughed up scattered sounds, all the while his dear family was a wreck. The white knight was powerless.
Protection was his namesake. As both a guard and a father, his duty was to never let painful conquering befall his nation. This blasted horn and its complications made him a monster to his own family. Trust was no longer present.
Finally, he spoke up. “Don’t leave me, Cadance.” Her bloodshot eyes only welled further with a reflective new sheen. “I’m so far behind already, please just let me know you’ll both still be here. I don’t have anything else left.”
“Never, never in a thousand years, but we won’t have a fraction of that if you don’t take care of yourself. I’m begging you, Shining Armor, just go. Up. Stairs.” She was nearly on top of him now, but he didn’t move, just like the Guard who stood here before him.
“I just need to do one thing. It was in my dreams, some book. Some kind of key.” Cadance searched for any semblance of rationality in her husband. “You can even come with me, keep me safe. Heh,” he chuckled, “I guess the roles have switched now.”
“They weren’t like this before?” She jeered with half a heart, still wiping away some tears. “What even is this book?”
Shining tried to remember. He let the world spin around him, finding the center of the storm within his mind. Dreams left him quickly, but it felt like the memories were vacant from their normal spot. The clouds were too thick. Cadance held his face, and sounds faded in without any snout moving.
Tears left his eyes. “I’m sorry, Cadance. I can’t remember, I just have to go there.” He was a hopeless lunatic. The faces of shock breezed by as he walked to the exit. They weren’t going to help, and he wondered if they would ever treat him as anything more than some limp figure.
He finally found the library, even though he couldn’t remember the walk there. As soon as the door opened, clarity rushed through him. The dreams he remembered melded with reality in that moment as the brown words of “Where’s The Key?” floated over each and every book which lined the green shelves. The path nearly walked itself as he retraced the steps of last night.
He saw it. The golden words flickering and shining brightly over a small tome. Clacks of his hooves against the marble floor reverberated like a bass drum while he made his way down the endless lines of shelves. None of this made any sense — he wasn’t sure if this library was the one he used monthly. But The Key was here, and he figured it was his only chance at redemption. Finding his identity without his horn, or perhaps even a way to get it back, was bound to lie in these pages.
A quick reach to the highest shelf brought the book tumbling to the floor. It landed cover up, and he brushed away the magical lettering to reveal its true title.