As my armored hooves fell on the hot, cobbled streets of Farrington, I wanted nothing more than to return home. While I was usually diligent about upholding my duties as a lieutenant of the Farrington Guard, so far the summer’s heat had been nigh-unbearable.
The city—my city, I liked to call it—had been built into the eastern face of the Violet Mountains, a range which, for all intents and purposes, marked the boundaries between Equestria and the griffins to the northwest. Their forest grew thick and wild on the other side of the mountains, and Cloudsdale was far away, which meant Farrington—and its twenty thousand ponies, unicorns, pegasi, and dogs—had to endure the weather in its most raw, uncultivated form.
For the last three weeks, that weather had been in the tune of “severe drought.” It made me sad to see the wilted flowers in the city’s planter pots, but I shook the idle sorrow out of my head. Water was scarce as it was, and if any more officers collapsed during their patrol, we’d have to submit a request for a thunderstorm.
I turned the corner onto my street, which was in one of the quieter parts of Farrington—the Residential District. Although, to be honest, most of Farrington was quiet. The only exceptions were the criminal lords in the Artisan District and the fringe doomsday cults that took the “Mare in the Moon” children’s story literally.
However, violent groups like those were an exception, not a rule. Most of Farrington’s citizenry were happy to go about their lives in a legal, honest manner. As I walked down my street, I smiled. I loved Farrington. The city could be hard, but its citizens were strong—forged in sweat and pain, much like the iron we refined.
Like nearly every able-bodied stallion, I had once tried my hooves as a miner. Those days, spent miles underground, had been some of my darkest. There was strength and dignity to be found working in the mines, just like in any occupation, but my true passion was defending Farrington from the criminals who would otherwise do her harm. That was what my cutie mark told me; I had earned that image of a golden shield at age eleven when I tackled a would-be mugger.
As I neared my house, I noted how my cutie mark story held a slight parallel to my current situation. Captain Reiner was currently off “burning some vacation time before retirement,” as he called it. His well-earned trips were becoming more and more frequent, and he made it no secret that he was testing Lieutenant Starfall and myself to see who would be the better replacement. This week, I was officially Acting Captain Iron Bulwark. Only time would tell if I earned the Captain’s golden armor.
At my doorstep, hunger hit me a moment before I remembered it was Friday. That meant it was my turn to cook—both a good and a bad thing. I opened the door and immediately, my sister greeted me. “Iron! You’re home!” She cantered over to me and was about to hug me...
“Maxie... wait,” I said, which deflated her excitement. I undid the buckles on one side of my armor and explained, “The armor’s only insulated on the inside; you might burn—” The outside of breastplate touched my bare coat, and I jerked back from it. Since my hind legs were still in the back part of the armor, trying to regain my balance only caused more burning, and I fell. Before I hit the ground, the world around me glowed light blue, all four of my hooves rested on the floor, and my armor was lifted off me.
I looked at my sister; her horn glowed as she placed the armor on its rack by the front door. “Some ‘Acting Captain,’” she teased.
I chuckled, but put a hoof out for a hug. Maxie leaned in, then stopped and made an exaggerated act of bringing her hoof up to her nose. “Duh, you’ve been in the sun all day! You need a bath, Iron.”
“Oh yeah?” I smiled at her as she nodded. Then, before she knew what hit her, I leaped forward and pulled her into a smothering hug.
“Gah! Ah... Gross!” she complained, but she only pretended to struggle. “Guards, help, I’m being suffocated!”
I laughed and let her go. When I inhaled, I caught some of what she was referring to and had to suppress a gag of my own. “Okay, then. Dinner can wait until I’m less...” I paused, trying to think of an elegant way to describe my situation.
“Smelly!” my sister interjected with a huge grin.
“Offensive,” I corrected her.
“Smel-ly,” Maxie persisted, stretching the word out in a sing-song voice.
“Shut up!” I said, shaking my head and losing my fight to keep a straight face. Maxie stuck her tongue out at me with a smile, and I chuckled before heading to the washroom.
* * *
An hour later, we had both had our turn in the bath and were sitting down in my kitchen. The room’s size was well-suited for two ponies, and even though I wasn’t incredibly fond of the yellow paint of the cabinets, it wasn’t garish by any means.
That evening, my sister and I were about to dig into my latest attempt at recreating a dish we had recently tried at a new restaurant. Maxie’s suspicious poking didn’t come as a surprise; she had her comfort zone for a lot of things, and she rarely deviated from it. “What is this?” she asked.
“Stir-fry,” I answered, bringing a forkful of it up to my mouth. “Like at Chahn’s Wok last week.” At the restaurant, Maxie had finished her plate, so I had deemed it a prime candidate for an attempt at home re-creaction.
Maxie looked up at me, eyebrow raised. “This better not be as bad as your breakfast experiment. What was it again, cinnamon toast with...?” she prompted.
“Mayonnaise,” I finished bluntly.
“And then I had to go to the—”
“Hospital,” I interjected. Her constant reminders about the ordeal were getting to be grating. “Honestly, Max, it’s been three months, can you drop it?”
She pressed, “So what about the butterscotch nachos from two weeks ago?”
“That could’ve been the next dessert craze and you know it,” I defended myself.
“And the pasta-oatmeal salad?”
“That... was a mistake,” I admitted. “Anyway, this stir-fry recipe is from Choshi himself, so it can’t have turned out too badly.”
She stared blankly at me. “Who’s Choshi?”
“Choshi Chahn. Chahn’s Wok,” I explained, letting her connect the dots.
In reply, she tried a little of her plate, and I joined her in eating. Some of the ingredients had stayed in the oil for too long, so the dish was a tad soggy, but apart from the texture, it tasted okay.
Across the table, Maxie seemed to agree. “Not bad.”
With the food settled, I shifted the conversation. “So, how was the post office today?”
“Pretty well,” she answered cautiously. “This heat’s not great for the in-town delivery ponies, but they got by okay. Also... myperformancereviewwastoday,” she mumbled.
“How’d that go?” I asked, despite her attempts at hiding it.
“Mister Delivery says I’m really reliable as a clerk,” she started boldly. Then, her voice grew quieter. “He also says... if you’re okay with it... that I can start doing some of the out-of-town deliveries...”
I paused and thought about it. It didn’t bother me that her boss was asking my permission for her to do something; after our mother gave in to grief and joined our father in the cemetery, it had fallen on my shoulders to raise Maxie. It had been hard then, and though the worst of it was past, she was still considered a minor, and I, her guardian.
After a moment, I answered, “If Speedy wants to send you out on deliveries, I think he’s a better judge of your work ethic than I am. Tell him I said ‘yes,’ just...” I felt a tightening in my gut. “Just nothing to the north.” The griffins that lived up there had a brutal hatred of intruders; I didn’t want Maxie to end up impaled on Farrington’s north wall.
She must have missed the cause of my concern, though, because a huge smile broke out across her face and she squealed, “Really?!”
“Yeah,” I responded. “I was younger than you when I got a job as a guard anyway.”
Maxie spent the following ten minutes in an excited rave about all the “cool places she’d get to visit.” I smiled at her romantic interpretation of the job. She was smart enough to handle the rigors of travel, but she was still a filly at heart. I hoped that she’d stay that way.
Her fantasies of adventures were cut short by a knock. I sighed and got up to go see who it was; neither of us had been expecting any late-night callers, so it had to be Guard business. You’d better get used to it, I realized. There’s a fifty-fifty chance for late-night Guard business to become part of your permanent title.
I opened the door, and sure enough, one of Starfall’s officers was gasping for breath on my doorstep. “Sir!” he wheezed, snapping a quick salute. “Lieutenant... Market Square... netted... griffin!”
“Sh... oot,” I caught myself and grabbed my armor. Putting it on would slow me down, but I’d need authority because it involved Lieutenant Starfall... and a griffin...
As I buckled up my armor, Maxie sauntered into the living room. “Did he say something about there being a griffin in town?” She sounded worried, which didn’t surprise me; griffins were definitely outside her comfort zone.
The officer seemed to have caught his breath enough to reply, and he turned to my sister. “Ma’am... The Watchers netted a griffin out of the sky. She’s on the ground now, and we’re waiting for, er, someone to come deal with the scene.” He shot me an urgent glance.
I was still having trouble with the damn buckles, of all the things...
“I don’t see why Iron’s got to go,” my sister said in a pompous tone. “Starfall’s on-duty, just let him kill the filthy animal and be done with it!”
By the fifth time I missed the buckle, I was getting frustrated. But what she had just suggested... I shot her a glare. “Max, just shut the hell up if you don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Finally, the strap caught, so I declared it close enough and put my hoof back on the ground. I wouldn’t pass an inspection, but that was hardly important right now.
I looked back at Maxie, who looked like I had just slapped her. I’ll defuse that situation later, I promised myself as I galloped out the door at full speed. I looked back at the officer, who closed my front door and ran after me. As much as I hated to leave Maxie alone on that note, it was an emergency.
Lieutenant Starfall was quite possibly the worst guard with the appropriate clearance to deal with the scene. My temporary replacement, Acting Lieutenant Justice, was probably still at the south gate, so right now, I was the only pony in the city who could order Starfall to stand down.
If he kills her, it’ll be the end of his career. It wasn’t that he didn’t have clearance—the laws on dealing with airborne threats from Sharptallon Wood were purposely vague—it was that there was no way anyone would trust his judgment on the matter.
Not after what happened seven summers ago...
Comet had been past-due to return from a delivery by over four hours. From what Officer Starfall said about his fiancée’s punctuality, that was cause for concern. When our lieutenant heard, he asked for volunteers to form a search party. I raised my hoof at once. Not to be outdone, my sergeant volunteered the entire squad...
I turned a corner and slipped on some dirt; without thinking, I slid with it until my momentum changed to the direction I was going. Behind me, I heard a swear, a metallic thud, and another swear. There wasn’t any time to stop, but if he could speak, he’d be fine. I pushed my legs harder and sped up, closing distance between myself and the main drag.
The five of us plus Starfall began to sweep the northern road for clues about Comet’s whereabouts. I asked Sergeant Justice if there was even a point to searching the road for a pegasus; she told me not to call her by that name, and that a smart pegasus would stick to the ground if they were injured...
“You two! With me, on the double!” I shouted at a pair of officers as I passed their patrol. I didn’t know what we’d need in the Market Square, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I also knew my stallions well; without looking back, I knew that they both had snapped a salute before breaking out in a run.
We saw a brown earth pony heading towards us from the north. They might have seen a trace of Comet, so we rushed to meet them. It was only when we drew nearer that we noticed something was wrong. The mare wasn’t brown; she was covered in dried blood...
I turned onto the main drag of Farrington; the Market Square was just off it, but about a quarter of a mile to the north. I pushed myself harder, knowing that every second would count.
Comet Tail had been rambling incoherently when we found her. The sun had probably saved her life that day by drying the blood in her wounds before she could bleed out. That was a small blessing, though; her condition was grave.
Both her wings had been ripped out of their sockets.
Even while running at breakneck speed, even seven years later, the memory of then-Officer Starfall’s cry of rage and despair made me shudder. Even so young as I was, I knew I couldn’t fathom the depth of what had just happened.
Comet collapsed in Starfall’s arms, and only then did she let herself cry. With one hoof, Starfall grabbed my sergeant’s sword, cut his armor off, and flew off towards Farrington, carrying his lover.
I turned onto the street that led to the Market Square. By the waning sun, I could see Lieutenant Starfall in the distance. He was standing over a brown mass in a net. I didn’t know if I was too late or not, so I pushed my legs even harder to try and stop my friend from seeking “justice.”
When Comet woke up, two days and several blood transfusions later, she told the three of us—myself, Starfall, and a royal guard—about her trip. She had made it a clear point to hug the western slope of the volcano that marked the boundary between Equestria and the Sharptalon’s territory. I cringed when I heard that; only the eastern slope of the volcano belonged to Equestria. She had made a simple mistake, and paid dearly for it. When Starfall learned there’d be no real repercussions for the griffins’ actions, he had dissolved into a stream of obscenities and incoherent rage that got him kicked out of the hospital.
I finally reached the Market Square, and for a horrified moment, Starfall’s stillness over the bloody griffin made me think I was too late. I stood there, panting; then I saw the netted mass rise and fall—breathing. I could tell she was female, and pink for some reason, but I had more pressing matters at hoof.
Lieutenant Starfall’s face was pensive, but malicious; his non-regulation combat knife was unsheathed.
With as much authority as I could muster, I shouted, “Lieutenant Starfall! Stand down!”
He didn’t take his eyes off the griffin. “It’s interesting...” I was chilled by the hollowness of his voice. “The tables are turned; now, here’s a griffin who trespassed in our skies.”
I wouldn’t gain anything by playing dumb. “Starfall, killing her won’t—”
“Her?” he snapped and turned to me. “Do you think I give half a damn about what gender this thing is? The only thing I care about is justice!”
“If this were about justice,” I countered, “then you’d follow the chain of command and let me decide her fate!”
He gnashed his teeth in a snarl. “This doesn’t involve you, kid.”
I tried to hide a scoff in a wheeze. “This absolutely involves me. As Acting Captain, I order you to stand down!”
Starfall turned back to the griffin lying in the street. She was barely moving now, and for a perverse moment, I realized I’d probably only have to stall Starfall for a few more minutes before nature took its course and she died anyway.
He had other intentions than to wait. “You’ve got no authority on this one, Iron.” He took a step forward and pulled the knife back.
“No!” I shouted, leaping at him. As I flew, time seemed to slow down, and I saw the sunset gleam off the now-disgraced lieutenant’s dagger. Because of the net, Starfall didn’t have access to slit her throat in a humane manner; however, I sincerely doubted that the griffin could survive his best effort.
When I tackled Starfall, I couldn’t tell if he were guilty of murder. We hit the ground, and a sharp fire lit in my left shoulder, but I ignored it as Starfall began struggling to shake me off. I called out for the officers—any officers—to help me restrain him; he got in a few punches on my helmet before they pinned him to the ground. Realizing he was trapped, he began flailing desperately and cried, “No! Iron, let me do this!”
I stood up, noting that my left hoof was moving sluggishly. From below me, the griffin let out a small, feeble moan. First things first, I thought as I looked around. Two guards were standing around, doing nothing. “Get this griffin to the hospital, on the double!” I barked at them. They snapped a salute and picked up the broken girl. She was so limp, I feared it was too late. So much time wasted, I thought bitterly as I saw the crimson pool she left behind.
I turned back to the pile of guards and Starfall. I didn’t know what to do about him; any punishment would probably leave him out of the Guard by the time Captain Reiner retired. Then, it would look like that were my intention... I shook my head. Then again, if I ignored such blatant insubordination, what did that say about my objectivity?
“L-let him up.” My lips shook with nerve and adrenaline. Once the two officers were standing, I told them to return to their patrols.
When they were gone, Starfall stood up and stared at me with deep regret. Now that there wasn’t a griffin directly in front of him, I could tell that his rationality was returning.
We stared at each other for a while, and I felt sorry for him: He was a good stallion at the end of the day. He didn’t deserve his circumstances, or the current situation. After a few moments passed, he shook his head. “I... think we’re past apologies,” he said meekly.
“Never,” I replied, shaking my head with a weak grin.
His expression softened a little bit, but he was still ashamed. “Then I’m sorry for that. Sorry about humiliating you in front of your men and mine like that. And I’m sorry... for stabbing you,” he said, pointing to the left side of me.
Stabbed? I looked down. Sure enough, his knife’s hilt was sticking out of my left shoulder socket. I yelped, causing Starfall’s wings to flare out in surprise. “Wh... you stabbed me?”
All of the pain that I must have ignored suddenly crashed into me. Starfall made a sound of protest as I pulled the knife out; after I did, I could see why. It was a serrated bastard, so there were small chunks of my flesh caught in its teeth. Wet warmth rushed over my arm, and the world began to spin slightly.
Starfall caught me as I fell, and I heard despair in his words. “And now I’ve assaulted a city guard. I’m going to prison, aren’t I?” His voice broke at the last part.
“That was an accident.” I blinked a few times, trying to get my swimming vision to clear. “B-besides, I c-can’t lock you up. Y-you know that. Instead,” I paused, thinking of what would be a fitting punishment. “T-tell your w-wife about wh-what you almost did... th-that’s harsh enough f-for a first off—”
Starfall stood up, bringing me with him. “That’s fair enough,” he whispered. “But let’s get you to the hospital first.” With both of our suits of armor, I knew he couldn’t carry me. But he supported my weight, and together, we started on the same road that the pair of guards had taken the griffin.
At first, I didn’t trust the unorthodox sentence I had given Starfall. The more I walked, the more I knew it fit. There was no “right” punishment here. When a husband was acting out of love for his wife who had only accidentally trespassed into the land of the Sharptallons, who had every legal right to kill her... I pushed the thoughts out of my mind. The world was getting blurry.
The two of us turned onto the main drag, where the hospital was located, and I hoped that Starfall hadn’t completely ruined his shot at becoming captain. He was a good guard, and a good pegasus, but most importantly, he was a good friend.