Chapter 9
September 24
Well, I’m back from both of the memorial services. The public one was held this morning in the palace courtyard, where the ceremony that had started our careers in the Royal Guard was held all those years ago.
The place was extremely crowded; almost half of Canterlot seemed to have attended. Vigil, Bolt and I would be part of the Honor Guard that would shoot our rifles into the air at the end of the ceremony, and we wore our full dress uniforms.
At the beginning, we marched in ahead of the ponies carrying coffins, each holding a fallen soldier. Each coffin was covered by an Equestrian flag to show the soldiers’ dedication to their country. As we reached the front, the Honor Guard split into two groups of five. Five of us went off to the left, and the other five went right. We all stood lined up, off to the side. Benches had been laid out similarly to how most churches are in Equestria: several rows of benches, divided into two columns by an aisle cutting through the center. At the end was a podium with several tables behind it. Each coffin was laid on one of the tables. Once the ponies carrying the coffins had finished their jobs, the sat in the front row, where they would be until the end of the service, when they would take the coffins to the cemetery to be buried.
Princess Celestia stepped up to the podium and said a few words about the dangerous times we were in and how, and I quote, “these soldiers made the ultimate sacrifice to protect our fair country”. As she talked, I zoned out a bit. I looked to the crowd and saw a little filly, no more than three years old. She was crying, inconsolable, in fact. The realization struck me that this child must have been the daughter of one of these dead soldiers, maybe even a sister.
I thought about Twilight. I was like a second father to her, in a sense. I could only imagine just how devastated she would be if I was up on one of those tables behind the podium.
The service only lasted thirty minutes. At the end, the two groups in the Honor Guard got together and stood in a line, side by side. We faced away from the audience, and grabbed our rifles with swift, identical movements. I stood in between Vigil and Bolt as we fired into the sky, away from the crowd. Our three shots rang out loudly through the empty palace grounds. Once we had fired our three shots, we slung our rifles over our right shoulders simultaneously, turned, and walked back up the aisle, followed by the coffins as a bugler who I couldn’t see played “Taps”. The Honor Guard marched up into the palace, halted on my command, and went back to the barracks as I called out, “At ease!” After that, we went down the passageway that we had now walked through hundreds of times. We approached the bookshelf and Vigil took the book. As soon as I pressed on the familiar metal plate hidden behind it, the bookshelf shuddered and clicked, then swung forward.
Unlike the first time we had walked down the hallway behind the shelf (and practically every other time we had walked this way) the corridor was silent. As we made it to the facility, we saw that all of the dragons were gathered around ten marble coffins. Piled on top of the coffins were wooden sticks, one for each of the dragons attending the funeral. Each dragon would light one stick from each coffin and place it inside the coffin. This would be done to symbolize that the fallen soldiers were honored among their living companions, and that they would meet again in the afterlife. After this, they would each bow their heads in a moment of silence to reflect on their lives with those who had died and to symbolize the peace that the soldiers were now experiencing. After that, all of the dragons would make an oath not to let any grief they’d be experiencing consume them, and to carry on with their lives.
Vigil, Bolt and I, along with all of the other ponies, could do nothing but watch what was going on from the background; this was a traditional dragon funeral, and we were not to interfere.
This service lasted for about three hours, most of it involving the mourners getting into a single-file line and lighting their fires. At the end of the ceremony, when they spoke the oath in the Tongue of Dragons, they were allowed to return to business as usual. However, the energy seemed to have been drained from all of them, and the room still remained silent. I don’t blame them; life down in that facility is rough, from what I’ve seen, and this brought each and every one of them close together. They each cared about one another like they were a family, and losing any one of those dragons would be like losing a brother.
Right now, I’m back at the barracks, along with Bolt and Vigil, finally letting the events from these past few days sink in. Nopony in our regiment had experienced anything like what happened the night of the Summer Sun Celebration. There was so much death that night. I remembered what Juggernaut had looked like; he was disfigured, almost beyond recognition. How many ponies had experienced similar fates that night and lived? Their lives would be ruined forever…
I could easily have been one of them.
I forced this idea out of my mind. If the changeling’s prophecy is true, there are still two major threats ahead of us, and that means that none of us can afford to think like that.
Regardless, the memories from that night will never cease to haunt me. I had witnessed and caused the end to so many lives that night, and that knowledge will stay with me until the day I die.
And from here on out, that feeling will only get worse…
September 25
I don’t have much to report today, really. Everypony involved in the incident at the Summer Sun Celebration is getting extended leisure time (usually mine’s from 13:00 to 13:30, but now it’s 13:00 to 15:00 along with – you guessed it – Vigil and Bolt) for the time being. That means that we’re about two hours sitting around the barracks on a daily basis.
Today I noticed somepony in the barracks with today’s newspaper. I asked him if I could take a look at it, not having kept up with current events in more than ten years now. He gave it to me, and I took a look at the front page – and saw my little sister’s face.
The picture was in black and white, with the headline: “New wielders of the Elements save the day”. In the picture, Twilight was with five other ponies. These five mares were the ones who we had been told not to hurt. It mentioned each one of them representing one of the Elements of Harmony: Rarity represents generosity, Applejack represents honesty, Rainbow Dash represents loyalty, Fluttershy represents kindness, Pinkie Pie represents laughter and Twilie… my little sis… she represents the mysterious missing element of magic. I always knew she was special but… I never even dreamed that she would save the world. I’m so proud of her, but it still tears me up inside to know that I was there to help her, and she can never know about it.
Yet, I’m happy that I can help her when she really needs me, even when she doesn’t know I’m there (because it’s inevitable: she’s gonna need military protection quite often, from now on.), and to know that, based on the article, she’s fulfilled that promise she made all those years ago.
“Promise me you’ll make some friends. There’s more to life than reading, y’know.”
Talk about mixed feelings.
On a lighter note, it’s been decided that I will, in fact, be captain of not just one, but five regiments in the domestic Royal Guard out of six, and the sixth regiment is Princess Celestia’s personal group of body guards. So, for all intents and purposes, I am captain of the Royal Guard.
There wasn’t a ceremony or anything. After my leisure time today, a messenger told me that Princess Celestia wanted me to meet her in the throne room. When I arrived, she sat on the throne with and old colt standing beside her. He smiled at me, but I didn’t recognize him.
“Shining Armor,” the Princess said, smiling down upon me, “I’m proud to announce that, after careful consideration, my sister and I have decided to appoint you as captain of all five military regiments of the Royal Guard stationed in Canterlot.”
I didn’t understand what she meant by this at first, then remembered the article; Nightmare Moon (or Princess Luna, as everypony calls her now) reconverted to the side of good, and now rules peacefully alongside her sister.
Anyway, after Princess Celestia said this, the old colt approached me, carrying a purple helmet, the kind that was normally worn by high-ranking soldiers in his front hoofs and he placed the helmet upon my head. After he did this, he returned to standing on all fours and continued to smile at me, saying, “You took longer than I expected, Shining.” When he said that, I knew who he was. I remembered that night all those years ago. The night when I saved those guards from an out-of-control cart. When the colt saw the look of recognition in my eyes, his smile spread into an all-out grin. He gave me a pat on the back and motioned for me to look at the princess. When I did so, I noticed that she was levitating a suit of armor that matched the helmet. I stood before the princess, and she loosened her grip on the armor so that I could take it and put it on, which I did. The colt saluted me after that, and I saluted him and the princess. “At ease,” she said, and I relaxed.
I made to leave, but the princess stopped me. “One more thing,” she said. She showed me three rolled up pieces of parchment. I took them, unrolling one. It read:
Princess Celestia cordially invites you to the Grand Galloping Gala.
Attached to the letter was a golden-colored ticket to the Gala. Knowing that each of the other pieces of parchment contained instantly, I thanked the princess and trotted out of the throne room.
I made it back to the barracks soon afterward. Vigil and Bolt still hadn’t come back from their posts, so I wrote a quick letter to my family, and then walked around the palace. I only just got back. Vigil and Bolt should be here in about two minutes. I’ll begin my duties as a captain tomorrow morning. I’m supposed to head over to the war room first thing in the morning to be briefed about the day’s agenda, and make sure everything goes as planned.
I wonder if I’ll still have time to write in this journal.
But a full schedule’s the least of my worries, isn’t it?