//------------------------------//
// Act I 
// Story: The Road Not Traveled 
// by chief maximus 
//------------------------------//


Act I


Another bandage hugged Mac's ribs as he took in steady lungfuls of the air at dusk. He hadn't been of much use to the farm recently after re-injuring himself. He could still perform most of his normal chores, but no heavy activity, doctor's orders. Granny Smith always told him he worked himself too hard day in and day out. He'd pretend to heed her advice and assure her he'd take it easier the next day, but he never did. 

Work was in his blood, like his father's before him, and grandfather before him, and so on. The work of their family helped build this town, and he'd be damned if he didn't keep up the proud tradition of enduring hardships so that others may live with fresh apples available every day. Setting aside philosophy and family pride, work was an easy way to bury one's problems, and repress anything that hurt to consider. 

Apples or no apples, today wasn't about the grand nobility of the working stallion. Applejack had gone off to Canterlot with Apple Bloom to the biggest social event of the year outside the gala itself: the wedding of Princess Cadence and Captain of the Royal Guard, Shining Armor. Just the thought brought a bit of a scowl to his face, though it quickly melted back into the normal stoic expression he wore in all but the most unusual cases. 

It wasn't as though he hadn't been invited. His invitation sat on his dresser, unopened. Applejack had asked if he was going to don his father's suit and join them, but he insisted there was work to be done at the farm. He was surprisingly well-versed in lying, given which Element of Harmony his sister represented. He knew there was no work to be done that couldn't have waited until they'd returned. Yet he knew there was no place for him at that wedding. The invitation said otherwise, but Mac knew how he had come to get one in the first place. After all, as far as anyone else knew, there would be no reason to not invite him. Not even Princess Cadence would have considered the reason he declined their invite. Only himself and Shining Armor were privy to such information, and for it to become public knowledge wouldn't bother Mac so much as it would him.

Shining had a reputation as a family stallion now—as head of one of the most elite units in Equestria—second only to the personal guards of Luna and Celestia themselves. A liaison between him and another stallion? He could envision the tabloid headlines now. 

Royal Guard Captain Kicked Out of Palace by Princess! Juicy Details About Shining Armor's Fling With Stallion Inside!

They'd play it up to be some kind of tryst, a loco-fueled marathon in a seedy hotel somewhere. In reality, they'd know nothing of what Mac had shared with Shining back at Basic Training. Mac had aspirations of a life outside the farm before his parents died. In fact, one of his dreams since he was just a colt was to protect Princess Celestia herself by becoming a member of the Royal Guard. As soon as he hit the legal age of consent to join, he went to the recruiter's office after his last day of school...





The bell sounded loudly above his head as Macintosh bounded down the steps of the school house. He was lanky, his legs having outpaced the rest of his body while growing, waiting for his muscles to catch up. This sometimes caused the occasional trip over his own hooves, among other things. Although rare, his incidents were enough to earn him the nickname 'Tripintosh.'

He had a few friends in school, but they were mostly just acquaintances. Ponies whose names he knew, but very little else. One of the closest ponies to him was a mare named Cheerilee, a magenta pony with a creamy pink mane and three smiling flowers for a cutie mark. Mac didn't say much, but she did most of the talking for him. Unlike some of the other mares, she was always nice to him. Looking back on it, she was probably the closest thing he'd ever had to a true friend. Well, before Shining.

Mac's inherent shyness prevented him from doing the kinds of things most colts his age needed to form social bonds with others in their class. Things like after school play, sleepovers, camping trips and the like were all lost on the lanky red colt from the farm at the edge of town. He didn't have too many friends to speak of, mainly because he didn't speak. Most of the time, he was content to listen—a trait that would serve him well later with mares, but didn't do much to prevent his classmates from seeing him as the 'weird quiet kid that hung out with Cheerilee.'

As Mac made it to the edge of the steps, he prepared to gallop down to the Royal Guard recruiting station before a familiar voice stopped him. "Macintosh, where are you going in such a hurry?" 

Mac turned to see Cheerilee standing behind him, her school books in her saddlebags and her teeth hidden behind braces as she smiled at him.

"Ah'm goin' to the Royal Guard post in town ta sign up for guard trainin'," he said as cheerfully as she'd ever heard him before. 

Expecting her to be happy, he beamed at her. Instead of encouragement and praise, he noticed her expression drop. She even looked a bit stunned. Truth be told, he had never told her of his aspirations, but then again, she had never asked.  

"Oh." She paused. "I guess you'll be gone for a while if you do that, huh?" she asked, though Mac couldn't guess why she'd care at the time. Looking back, the answer was obvious, but he was just a young colt with a dream on his mind.

"Ah s'pose," he replied, shifting slightly on his hooves. He only had an hour to get to the recruiting office before it closed for the day!

"Well, be careful," she sighed, looking into his eyes with something Mac would later come to recognize as fear for his safety. "Being a guard can be dangerous." 

"Don't worry about me, they'll make sure Ah know how to take care of myself," he assured her, completely oblivious to how serious she was about him being careful. There hadn't been a military action in Equestria for over a thousand years, but facts have very little effect on the worried female mind. 

"Okay..." she muttered softly, staring down at her hooves as she pawed the ground. "Good luck, and please don't hurt yourself, alright?" 

"Ah promise, the next time you see me, I'll be wearin' fancy armor and guardin' a princess!" he answered proudly, his chest puffed out. "Bye Cheerilee!" 

He set off into town at full speed, hoping his talk hadn't cost him too much time. He wasn't sure how many colts from his graduating class would be trying to sign up, but he wanted to make sure he got a spot. A small smile grew into an outright grin as he got closer, sure that all he'd have to do was sign a few papers and he'd be on his way to becoming a guard!

Finally ponies would respect him and not call him any dumb nicknames or make stupid jokes about his height. As he rounded the corner to the recruiters office, he was happy to find only a short line. 

Mac waited patiently as the line moved steadily, yet agonizingly slow. By the time he was in the building, he lamented the fact that the line was still about ten ponies long. Relieved that he'd made it before they closed down, he reveled in the fact that he was taking the first step to becoming a Royal Guard. While he waited, he took in all of the recruiting posters adorning the walls. Stylized images of square-jawed stallions, looking majestically into the distance with a stern expression about them and a red flag with the sun on it painting the background. Above the stallion was the word 'Glory' in gold and below him, 'Honor.'

As he crept closer to the recruiter's desk, the posters began to change. Some were older, from the time of the tensions with the griffons, all the way back to an antique poster from the fight against Nightmare Moon, written in the dead Equestrian language of Marelic. The Royal Guard was almost an old an institution as the monarchy itself, and to be accepted was to become a part of the pride of thousands of years of struggle and sacrifice. Some posters portrayed stallions in armor driving a spear into the heart of a fierce dragon, with words like 'Valor' and 'Justice' splayed across them. Another had Princess Celestia pointing a hoof at the reader, the words 'We want you!" across the top and "To enlist with the Royal Guard today!" across the bottom.

Mac couldn't wait. The posters and the overall pride of finally setting hoof in the same office former commanders and generals had signed up in welled up inside him, refusing to let his grin retreat. Finally his somewhat aimless prospects of dreary farm work day in and day out would be replaced by marching in parades, wearing armor, protecting royalty and providing a role model for his younger sister Applejack, and soon to be youngest sister, still in his mother's belly. 

Before he knew it, there was only one pony ahead of him. He was nearly giddy (well, as giddy as a pony like Mac could be) as he stood before the recruiter's desk, a large, dark wood piece with various accolades and awards on it as well as a hefty stack of paperwork. 

"Name?" he asked, snapping Macintosh out of his trance. 

"Macintosh Apple," he replied, his voice cracking embarrassingly as he cleared his throat. The recruiter couldn't help but smile. 

"You sure you're eighteen, son?"

Mac's grin disappeared. Of course he was of age! He'd waited years for this moment! "Yes sir, Ah'm eighteen," he said in a voice much lower than his normal tone, trying to keep his voice from cracking again. 

"I know, I've seen you around," the recruiter teased. "Any medical issues, maladies or problems?"

"No sir," Mac answered positively. Yes or no questions were his favorites. 

"Sign here, here, initial here," he said, sliding a pen and parchment across his desk. 

Mac beheld the ticket to his destiny as it slid toward him. The royal seal was embossed at the top and bottom, and the flowery first letter of the document. 

Mac smiled down at it as he took the pen in his mouth, still feeling a little bit jittery about actually making a commitment he'd been thinking about for a few years now. His signature came out sloppier than usual, though his nerves were most likely the culprit. 

The stallion behind the desk collected his paper and checked over it. After a nod, Mac was directed toward another room down the hall where yet more stallions waited in line. From listening to hushed whispers, he gathered this was the line for a brief medical exam. Before he knew it, he was next in line behind the white door with a red cross on the front. The colt who'd gone in before him stepped out, the doctor beckoning him inside. 

"Have a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Macintosh Apple, is it?"

The doctor was an older stallion. Perhaps his light red coat peppered with spots of gray once shone like Mac's did now. Mac nodded in response. Silence had served him well thus far, best not to test success. 

"Alright, let's have a look at you shall we?" he said, pursing his lips and rising from behind his desk. He trotted around to Macintosh, who had already stood up. As he began his walk around, Mac could feel his skin begin to rise into goosebumps. The feeling of the doctor's eyes scanning over every inch of him as though her were livestock in a contest at the county fair unnerved the normally rock-solid young colt. The doctor made his way to Mac's left side, before diving his head beneath his stomach, getting a look at his nethers.

Before Mac could protest, he felt a hoof cradling two very sensitive objects underneath him. "Cough please, Cadet Apple." 

Mac was so enamored with the thought of being a 'cadet' that he completely forgot somepony was waiting on him to perform an action. A gentle reminder garnered all the coughing the doctor could have wanted. 

Returning from beneath him, the doctor sat down behind his desk once more, taking in his magic a pen and scribbling some notes and a signature on a medical form. "Well, I see no reason to keep you here, son," he sighed. Mac figured he was at least the twentieth patient he's seen today, so the doctor's lack of enthusiasm was forgiven. He stamped a date in red ink on two separate pieces of paper, handing one to Mac. "This is the date you report to processing. After that, you'll go straight to basic." 

Mac beamed from ear to ear, taking a moment to admire his ticket into the Royal Guard before gently placing it into his saddlebag. Maybe his mother and father would frame it! Mac could just see it now: the pride on his father's face, the happiness on his mother and grandmother's faces as they heard the news their boy was going to make something of himself!  He couldn't wait to tell his parents what he had done.





The cooling breeze briefly misplaced Mac's mind. The rolling hills of the orchard he and his sister had broken their backs to keep in business stretched out before him. He had a lot to be proud of, and a lot he could take stock in. However, the roads not traveled always had a most curious ability to provoke regret, even when you were certain the road you had taken had been the best one for you and your family at the time. Mac knew he made the right choice, he knew what was on the line when he had come to his decision. 

And yet... there were still unresolved feelings he had been successful in burying beneath layers and layers of hard labor day in and day out.

Most of these feelings were due to one of two factors: one being the life he could have had as a servant of the princesses, and the other being the strange and confusing emotions evoked by a certain stallion he'd met at his time in basic training.





His father wasn't as receptive as he'd hoped. In fact, his father destroyed the paper with his ship out date as soon as he'd shown it to him. Not that it mattered, Mac had the date memorized, and his father had only destroyed a copy—A copy he thought would make him proud, but a copy nonetheless. He was actually counting on his mother not to support his decision, but in fact, she was his biggest proponent. 

"No colt of mine is going to abandon his family!" Mac's father roared, sending the scraps of paper he'd just shredded fluttering to the ground in front of Macintosh. Mac simply held a glare as he followed his dad's pacing and intermittent shouts. 

"Red, he isn't abandoning his family and you know it!" his mother Gala shot back in Mac's defense. Talking back to your elders was a big taboo in the Apple house. 

"He's leaving the farm! The farm he knows needs him!" 

Gala stepped in front of her husband, stopping his pacing. "He's got dreams, Red. Your dream is this farm, that don't mean his has to be too!"

"Dreams? Dreams are for sleepin'!" he argued, glancing back at the still upset looking Macintosh. "You better get that look off your face, boy!" 

"Red, that's enough!" his mother demanded. "If you can't maintain a civil tone, take yourself outside!" 

He looked at his wife, then his son, and turned on his heel to leave. Once he was safely out of earshot, Mac's mother sat down beside him on their couch. "Ah'm sorry your father got so upset at you." She put a comforting hoof around Mac's shoulder. "You know how he gets when harvest time gets close."

"You don't think Ah'm abandonin' y'all, do you?" he asked, staring down at his hooves as his father's words began to sink in. 

"No, sugarcube, of course not!" Gala said, giving her son a squeeze for emphasis. "You know your father just says things he doesn't mean when he gets irritated." 

"Well, what if y'all need me for somethin' and Ah'm not here? What if Paw hurts himself? Or—"

A hoof rested over his lips as his mother shushed him. "No more of that. You let Paw, Granny and I worry about the farm. You're too young to be concernin' yourself with such business." 

Gala glanced down at the shredded congratulatory letter the recruiter had given her son. "This paper wasn't important, was it?"

"Naw, Ah got the date memorized... Ah just thought Paw would want to do somethin' special with it, like frame it or somethin'. Guess I was wrong..."

"Don't you fret none sugarcube, Ma'll take care of this for ya." 

She gathered the scraps and set them in a decorative box on the end table. She sat back down next to Macintosh, noting the lightening of his mood after Red had left. "Now, Ah don't mean to second-guess you, but are you sure this Royal Guard thing is what you want?"

Mac looked up from his hooves and into his mother's emerald green eyes. "Yeah, it is." 

Gala smiled. "That's all Ah needed to hear," she said, getting up from the couch to start dinner. "Don't you worry about Paw, Ah'll get him to come around. In the meantime, we'll just hire a rancher or two ta help out with your chores."







Mac remembered that first fight. He also knew that he had picked a bad time to run off and join the Royal Guard. The beginning of harvest season was not the opportune time to be absent from the apple orchard. His Paw eventually came around, and even began writing Mac a few letters while he was in basic. He got letters from a lot of his extended family as well, every mail call there'd be more letters addressed to cadet Apple than anypony else. Speaking of family, one member in particular gave him more cause to reconsider than his mother and father combined...





A few days after the initial argument, Mac had retired to his room, still rather miffed that his father would react the way he did. After all, if the posters in the recruiters office were to be believed, joining the Royal Guard was every colt and father of said colt's dream! However, none of the problems here at the farm were of concern. Tomorrow he shipped off to medical processing and then basic training. He was less than twenty-four hours from beginning his life's journey, and he could hardly sleep. 

Mac lit a candle and set it on his nightstand before removing a book from between his mattress and box spring. Ordinarily, a colt his age would have adult reading material hidden there, but Mac's stash was not pornography. Rather, military history. His pornography was hidden elsewhere. He'd been studying up on the history of the Royal Guard, having learned that basic also held school-style classes about such topics. Just as he was about to begin his nightly reading, a soft knock drew him from his studies. 

"C'min" he grunted, expecting his father to appear, ready to apologize. Instead, a small orange filly with three apples on her flank nudged the door open with her muzzle. 

"Big Mac, can Ah talk ta you?" she asked softly. Applejack was up way past her bedtime, and he knew the only time she'd visit him was if something was wrong. Normally that something was an accident in her bed, or perhaps a horrifying nightmare, but the look on her face suggested something a bit more... substantial. 

"Sure darlin'," he said, sliding over on his bed to make room for her. The little filly made it halfway up the bed before needing help the rest of the way. Mac grabbed her under her forelegs and raised her to the mattress, getting a few giggles out of his younger sister in the process. He set her next to him as she leaned back against his chest. "Alright, what can Ah do for ya?"

The answer didn't come right away, which only troubled Mac further. "Well..." she began, keeping her vision focused on the lumps their hind legs created beneath the blanket. "Paw says you're leavin' the farm. Is that true?"

She looked up at him and he met her eyes flashing with concern. "Eeyup," he answered softly. That one word seemed enough to break a strong filly's demeanor. 

"You-you are?" she gasped. He could tell she was looking for a different answer. 

"Eeyup. Ah'm gonna be one of the Royal Guard." A sniffle echoed around his room as he hugged his sister close. "Hey now, Ah won't be gone forever," he consoled. "Ah'll be back in a few months."

"But Ah don't want you ta go for any months!" she pled, a bit of water shining in her eyes as she hugged as much of his waist as she could get her forelegs around. 

"Ah know you don't, but... this is my dream, Applejack," he whispered to her, idly rubbing her back while she clung to him. 

"How come you can't get a different dream?" she asked. 

"It don't work that way." 

"How d'you know?" She argued with the ferocity only a child could summon for their point, even if their point was dead wrong. "You ever try?"   

"Nope, Ah never wanted a different one." He knew this wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, but the truth often times hurt. 

"But how come you think it's okay to leave me and Maw and Paw and Granny?" she demanded. 

"Ah'm not leavin' 'cause Ah want ta leave. Ah'm leavin' 'cause Ah have to!" he snapped, growing a bit frustrated. "This is the only way to become a Royal Guard, and that's what Ah'm doin'." 

"B-but, what if somethin' happens here and we need you?" she whined, trying her best pleading eyes on her big brother, but to no avail. "What if Paw needs somepony ta buck apples with and you're not here?"

"Then Ah guess you're gonna have to buck apples with him, ain't ya?" he said smiling down at her. Applejack broke her gaze and stared back down at the end of the bed. 

"Paw don't want me out there," she sighed, "Ah'm no good at buckin' apples..."

"Hush now, that's because you've never tried buckin' apples with my magic hat on," he said, leaning back and grabbing an old stetson he used to play 'sheriff' with when cousin Braeburn's family would visit. 

"That hat ain't magic," she answered skeptically. 

"Oh yes it is. You just ain't been wearin' it, so you wouldn't know." 

"Nuh uh!" Applejack huffed. "Ah learned in school that only unicorns and the princesses can use magic, and we ain't no unicorns." 

Mac whinnied, smiling at his sister as if he were in on a joke she was not privy to. "C'mon, ain't you ever heard of earth pony magic?"

Applejack laid her chin onto Mac's stomach, keeping her eyes fixated on him as she answered, "Earth ponies ain't got no magic!" she giggled. "Quit bein' a silly pony, Macintosh!" 

"Ah ain't bein' no silly pony," Mac insisted, "How d'you think Paw manages to do all the work on the farm like he does?"

"'Cause you help him!" 

"That, and because of earth pony magic. See how Ah wear my yoke, Paw wears his coveralls, and Maw and Granny wear their shawls?"

"Yeah..." she said slowly. 

"Well, that's where the magic comes from."

Applejack raised an eyebrow, examining the dusty old hat still resting on her brother's hoof. "The magic comes from clothes?"

"Sure! Why do ya think only earth ponies wear clothes all the time?"

A look of contemplation fell over the youngest Apple sibling as she took the hat from her brother. "Ah guess Ah never thought of it that way before..."

"Eeyup," he said proudly, setting the hat atop Applejack's head, only to have it cover her face completely. "Remember, you gotta believe in this magic, or it won't work," he instructed, tipping the hat brim up so he could see his sister. 

"Ah gotta believe?" 

"That's right. You believe you can buck apples and help Paw while Ah'm gone, and by Celestia you'll be doin' it in no time!" 

Applejack's face lit up in delight as she adjusted the hat to rest on her ears. "Really? Ah'm gonna try it tomorrow as soon as Ah get home from school!"

"That's the spirit!" Mac smiled, "Now go'n and get to bed. It's way too late for fillies to still be awake."

"Ah'm not a filly!" Applejack snapped indignantly, "Ah'm a big pony! Now give me a kiss goodnight!" she demanded, presenting her cheek.

Mac couldn't help but chuckle as he gave his sister a peck before getting one in return. She scurried off his bed, but stopped as she reached his door. 

"Macintosh?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah'm gonna miss you when you leave..." she whispered. The laughs they had both shared earlier now seemed millions of years behind them. 

"Ah know, Ah'll miss you too, Applejack." 

She quickly shuffled back over to him and gave one last hug before leaving his room. 

Mac blew out the candle, letting the darkness envelope his room. Sure, he'd miss his family while he was away, but he wasn't going to the moon! Basic didn't even last a whole year, and he knew he'd have time off once he was a newly minted guard. Maybe he'd even live in Canterlot! The possibilities swirled around in his head as he finally managed to drift to sleep. 





Mac rested his head on his forelegs as he lay down, enjoying the breeze sweeping through the orchards. 

The day he left for basic was nothing special. His sister and mother were teary eyed, but his father and Granny were more or less the same. His father even hugged him goodbye as he went. Though he didn't come right out and say it, Mac figured he was proud of his son for choosing his own path in life. From the farm, he walked to the recruiting office where a few other colts sat outside, waiting for the bus to take them to the medical center. 

He recognized a few faces from his class, but not many, and none he knew well enough to strike up a conversation with. Although, that wasn't something he was likely to do anyway. 

The medical evaluation went smoothly, as did the night after his exam. The very next morning, he was set to arrive at Fort Luna and begin his training to become an elite member of the Equestrian uniformed services. It was also the day he'd meet the colt that would change his outlook on life. 





Macintosh hustled off the bus at the shouted commands of his drill instructors with the rest of the colts from Ponyville. Buses from all around Equestria began arriving. Some from as far away as Hoofington and even Canterlot. Standing perfectly still in line, he waited his turn to receive his first bit of government issued apparel: a high-and-tight manecut. The next was a set of metal tags on a chain. On the tags were the date they'd been made, the name, blood type and soldier number. The stallion working the pressing machine informed Mac in no uncertain terms that these tags were to be on him at all times. Should he ever be found without them, the punishment would be most unpleasant. 

As an example, the stallion held his tags out from around his neck. "See that?" he asked. 

Mac nodded. 

"I got this forty years ago when I joined up," he said proudly. "You'd do well to hang on to yours. Right now, you get one. When you graduate, you get the other." Mac nodded, donned his single tag and moved on. 

Every recruit looked the same after their visit to the barber. 

An old, gruff looking stallion with tattoos covering his forelegs paced back and forth in front of the motionless block of colts. 

"All of you are from different places around this great land of ours. As such, you may think you'll be sticking with the others from your town," he began, his voice booming, even outside the barracks where he had assembled the new cadets. "Well, you're wrong!" 

He strode up to the first colt in each line. He began shuffling the stallions into different groups until any familiar faces Mac may have had to befriend were gone, replaced with new ones from far away cities. 

"Now then, the colts around you will be your brothers for the next six months. It will not be easy, and a lot of you won't make it!" he howled, still pacing back and forth between his company-sized blocks of colts. "I am Sergeant Castille, and I am your Princess Celestia. Do you understand me?"  

"Yes sergeant!" the recruits responded in deafening unison.

"Very good," he mused examining each colt unlucky enough to be at the front of the line closely. "You all may not be the dumbest bunch of misfits I've ever had stumble through my gate. You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will not eat, sleep, or shit without permission from me or my subordinates, is that clear?" 

"Yes sergeant!"

"Good." He walked to the end of the formation and stopped in front of them. "Collectively, you are Hydra Battalion, but for the next six months you will be broken up into platoons. First platoon..." He pointed to the first group of cadets before moving down the line to repeat the process. Mac ended up in third platoon. 

If Mac took anything away from that first day, it was that standing was going to be required a lot of the time. Not that it bothered him, but it was still aggravating to stand in the hot sun while watching the other platoons farther along than his actually get to do the things he had signed up to do. After the first day, it was up to the cadets to choose their own bunks. Mac wasn't much for arguing with anypony, so he chose a corner that was out of the way and less likely to draw attention if he claimed it. He trotted over and sat down on the single sheet bed. 

It certainly wasn't any substitute for his bed at home, but he'd slept on worse. Just as Mac was feeling out the lumps in the mattress, a shadow blocked the light from above him.

"Like the bottom bunk, eh?"

Startled, Mac's head shot up, causing him to knock against the metal frame with a resounding ping.

"Ah, uh... it ain't taken already is it?" he asked cautiously.

"Nope." The stallion hanging halfway off the top bunk yawned. It was nearly lights out, and Mac caught his yawn as soon as he noticed the act. "I'm Shining Armor, by the way. Guess we're bunk mates, huh?"

Mac nodded. This colt seemed pretty friendly, and he actually initiated the conversation—something his classmates rarely did with the exception of Cheerilee.

"Ah S'pose so. Macintosh Apple, pleased ta meet ya." 

They bumped hooves as Mac laid back against his bed, propping up his head on his forelegs. Since they all looked more or less the same, Mac couldn't tell what color mane his new friend had, but his eyes were a sharp blue he'd recognize anywhere. That, and the rather sizable horn above his eyes. 

"Ah don't think Ah've ever met a unicorn before," Mac commented, Shining still leaning over his bunk. 

"Seriously? Where're you from, pal?"

"Ponyville," Mac replied, another yawn escaping his lips. 

"Never heard of it," Shining said, retreating back to his bunk. 

"How bout you?" Mac asked. 

"My family and I live in Canterlot. My folks are really close to some important ponies or something." His voice reached easily through the background noise of the barracks. "I wasn't into all that high-society junk. This is what I've always wanted to do." 

Mac nodded again. "Same here. Ah've wanted to be a Royal Guard for a while now." 

"I've heard it isn't easy. Half the class will probably drop out," he said with a grimace. 

"Ah've heard the same," Mac answered, rubbing the bump on his head before settling in his bunk. "Ah've heard as long as you do what you're told, you'll make it."

Shining smiled, "We can only hope," he said confidently, just as Sergeant Castille killed the lights.

"Light's out ladies! You've got a full day tomorrow!" he shouted as the conversations died down and the other stallions returned to their bunks in the dark. Some obscenities echoed in the darkness as hooves got stubbed on hoof-lockers and the metal of the bed frames.

Once the noise died, Mac stared blankly at the springs of Shining's mattress above him. He assumed he'd be too excited to sleep, yet a fitting calm permeated the air in the barracks of his first night. The confusion of their first few minutes had now given way to what he guessed would be the routine from here on out: morning run, physical training, breakfast, more running, more physical training, lunch, more physical training, more running, evening classes, and dinner. 

Structure was something Mac was quite used to out on the farm, and he knew the benefits a well structured day of work would bring. Closing his eyes, he began to drift off to sleep, confident that if his first day was any indication, he'd have exactly what it took to make it in the Royal Guards. Heck, he may even be the captain one day!

His calming thought's were shattered into a thousand pieces as his real training began with a very loud Boom.