Somewhere North of the Flumen Foras
(River Forth, Modern day Fife)
Caledonia (Scotland)
120CE
Varius scanned the forest ahead, his hand over the crest of his helmet; looking for any signs of threat to his position and his men. He himself had never been past the wall, but the fear of the north certainly had an impression on all who lived behind and in the shadow of it.
Varius and the legion had left Vindolanda, a large roman fort just due south of the northern lands. In the relative safety of the Wall by orders of the senate back in Rome, not to mention Emperor Antonine himself. It was to be a glorious conquest of the pictish lands of the north, but many saw it as a simple political move for the Emperor. Not that Emperors would live long these days though...
That was three days ago, and now the legion was headway into Caledonia. Five thousand men marching to one heart beat, a line stretching miles. Varius looked to his men on his right, they payed no attention; most too busy trying to keep in time to the signifier or singing about distant conquests of decades ago.
He sighed. He was tired, they all were. A Roman Legionnaire was trained to march twenty five miles on a good day, but the rain and constant coldness of the north were getting to them. They were lucky if they ever made twelve. Looking around, there was only forest now. The darkness of the trees enclosing them brought a distant fear from days as a child. His eyes darted hurriedly around, his breathing slightly increasing with every step. He felt like the whole forest became one giant monster, ready to pounce and eat him whole. The facts were simple, he hated the dark with all the passion of the gods above.
"Varius!" a voice called. booming over the feet of the men, and the songs of glory in distant lands. Varius himself snapped back into reality, slightly jerking in fright as he twisted his head forward and down the Column of steel, sweat and swords.
"Aye Tribune?" he called back, barely being heard over the mass chanting of the proud men.
Then came a silence. A painfully long silence, if you excluded the men around him marching. However, he focused out of that a long time ago. The voice called back as the Tribune had finally decided to answer..."Ah, never mind. 'Tis nothing, as you were Centurio" A sudden wave of hope was brushed aside by the dam like reply of the Tribune.
A Hopeless, and rather bored Varius slumped. He expected some sort of glorious mission, or at least something that lacked the marching. All they'd done was march, build camp, march, build camp, repeat three times and the only entertainment was when a legionnaire named Sextus had managed to lodge his Gladius sword into a tree.
The last time they checked, it was still there.
His head began to tilt upwards, looking up he noticed the moon slowly rising from the east. He let out a thankful sigh. At least the prospect of a somewhat good sleep was to be expected. He smiled before joining into the songs that were floating up and down the line. After all, it can't get any worse. His smile widened as the thought of the food and a good sit down as the chanting grew louder.
Before long the entire forest grew loud with the chants of the legion, the praises of the moon, "Luna", or the glory of the generals and emperors.
"A thousand Germans, a thousand Persians: time and again we've cut off their heads!"
Canterlot
2 Weeks after Changling attack
"Can't...let...boredom...w-win...dammit." Shining's face slummed onto the table. His eyes fighting a war to keep open, and so far it seemed they were set to lose. He sat his head up now, his eyes looking directly at the ceiling.
Too tired to even use the basic of muscles to move his head, he sighed. Ever since the Changling attacks life had gotten so... boring, dull, slow, plain and utter...well plain. He leaned forward, a picture of his newly wed mare with a smiling face sat on his desk. How did he have such a boring job he was Captain of the guard.
Captain! That title alone signifies honor, glory and action!
And yet his sister twilight and company were seeming to be fighting of a creature at least once a week. Hydras, three headed hell dogs. And as far as he was concerned "assisted" in saving them on there wedding day... emphasis on "assisted"
"She could at least invite me, I guess" He mumbled.
At least life was not all grays and blacks. He was married to royalty, applicable to her stature in life. Not to mention the beauty of her. He was related to Twilight, or Twily as he would call her. A smart, proud mare, student to Celestia herself. He was pretty much the commander of all the royal guards inside Equestria, second only to the princesses themselves.
Yes, life was certainly good, but why was it so boring?
He looked out an open window, only to notice a brewing storm on the horizon. "Hrmm, perhaps a horde of dragons were creating it...and only captain shining and his noble guard can save the day!" He grinned until he saw the weather ponies moving in and out of them. "Daww...." he slumped back down onto the table "I should really talk to twily more" he said in a whisper.
Time passed as the storm grew closer. The coldness and wind were starting to become a problem. Shining finally stood up, trotting sluggishly towards the window, closing it. He let out a yawn before looking at the door. Cadence would probably be in bed, or somewhere sorting out royal duties. Two perfectly good reasons for Shining to sleep; and did he need sleep.
Shining glanced out the window one more time to see rain slowly crawl up the castle walls before trotting out the room, the blackness of night casting shadows across it. Night was to come fast tonight. Outside a blue blur flew through the night as the royal princess of the night rose the moon. All was quiet in Canterlot, the sound of the rain was the only noise audible. Many slept, many more simply stayed indoors.
Somewhere still north of the Flumen Foras
The fort was quiet. Rain had arrived, pelting the men inside with an constant barrage of droplets. It had only taken them hours to build the wooden fort. The tents inside were protected from attack. Varius himself slept, as did many. Only a few stayed up to clean the horses or patrol the walled mounds and closed gates. Indeed, all was quiet. The moon slowly rose above the tree-line, illuminating the camp in a pale ghostly light, and so ended the fourth night for the legion. soon Dawn would break, and the same routine would continue...