Chapter 5: Full Equine Jacket
You know, I could have been an apple farmer, or a gemcutter, or some other easy, safe job, but here I am, representing the odd one out in a crowd of at least two hundred ponies in matching armor out in the baking sun.
Dear Celestia, why did you have to make the summer so blazing hot?
Almost five years after my brief tour of the Canterlot Military Academy, I found myself performing numerous different stances with a wooden short spear. However, due to most of my peer lacking fingers, it became difficult to emulate them. Perhaps if I had been raised in the company of Griffons, I would have a much easier time learning their style.
Naturally, Steady Line was watching the proceedings like a vulture circleing a dying body, and soon enough he stopped to see me.
“You're getting sloppy, Private Petal. Something wrong?”
I tried to steel myself, my eyes almost trembling as his piercing golden eyes met my green irises.
I gulped down a knot lingering in my throat before replying, “I'm finding it difficult to emulate the drills, sir. They're designed for ponies... And I'm not exactly a pony.”
For a moment, I feel his stare bore into my heart before I felt his head crash into mine, sending me reeling backward. I resisted the temptation to speak against him, but rubbed my temples regardless. For a moment, I swore I heard him laugh before he extended a hoof to help me up.
“Your skull's about as hard as one,” he chuckled, guiding my arms as he showed me a certain position.
“You're different from the rest of us, Lance; Where we ponies must wear heavy harnesses to allow us to use our spears effectively, you aren't limited by that. You're able to stand for yourself, and use your spear without the need of special equipment or wings, or even magic,” he told me as he continued his guidance. “Adapt what they're doing to suit your body, and work from there.”
Steady Line's face reset into a more serious demeanor as he returned to his facade and left me to my drills.
Although I had no idea what he'd meant by adapting myself, it came to me as I watched some of the other compatriots in my class thrusting and swinging. The pegasi provided me with particularly clear information on how to use my weapon. The spears that they (and by extension, myself) were flourishing were carried in thrusts and swings, the edge whipping about as the air around it was sliced in twain. The way the ends of their forelegs wrapped around the shaft gave me a clear enough indication of how to hold it, at least. There was also the fact that they were using their wings much like I’d use my hands.
With a better understanding of my stance, I spaced my hands along the shaft, my main hand behind my off hand as they slid across the lacquered wood, my feet following in kind. Soon enough, I was thrusting forth with gusto as my peers looked in inquiry. They had some interest in my technique, but in the interest of not being similarly admonished by our instructor, they resumed their own drills.
From there, I was able to slowly, but surely adapt the techniques of my peers into a useable format, up until the shrill cry of a whistle rang out of amongst the group. Upon cue, all of us stood at attention, our spears held stiff as boards.
“That's enough for drills,” Steady Line shouted, taking to the front of the crowd. “Now, I know you all have been working hard, and that you've gotten to know a lot of your peers as a single unit. However, from this point onward, you will be undergoing specialized training in accordance to your particular tribe.”
He motioned towards three large flags. One was blue, with a horn. One was green, with a pair of wings, and the last was red, with a horseshoe.
“If you will, file beneath your respective tribe's banner and you will meet your instructor for the remainder of your training.”
Following a salute, my fellows departed to their flags in single file, but just as I was about to follow the earth ponies, I heard a voice call to me.
“Lance, I'd like you to stay here a moment; I'd like to have a moment of your time.”
This is it, I thought. This is the day that I get booted out.
The two of us walked away from the other groups and out of earshot before he spoke again.
“Lance, I know that you've been working hard to live up to your uncle's expectations, but I've been noticing that due to your, shall we say, unique body structure, you've been having a hard time learning techniques.”
I said nothing and simply followed my superior's lead.
“Thus, I feel it is only appropriate that you be given tutelage by somepony who might be better suited to the task of shaping you into a more capable soldier.”
I was going to ask just who that somepony was, when I found what looked to be a dog standing on its back legs, two massive fists holding him upright. Strangely enough, he was wearing armor not too unlike that of the Guards, save for it being shaped to fit his form. His coat was auburn, with a white breast and a darker shade on his muzzle, which had flaps of skin hanging off. His eyes, though sunken to some extent, were a light, hazel shade, and though not piercing, his gaze certainly had impact in my heart.
“Sound off, soldier!” Steady Line barked, to which the dog saluted.
“Specialist Brutus, Major!” woofed the dog.
“At ease.”
Steady Line stood by the dog named Brutus and motioned toward him.
“Private Petal, I'd like to introduce you to Specialist Brutus. He is a diamond dog we recruited from the Appleloosa Mountain Range. He's our inside stallion in all matters between diamond dogs and ponykind, and he'll be supervising your training from here on in on the grounds that the two of you share similar bodily structures. Therefore, he should be perfect to teach you. Don't you agree, Brutus?”
My arm was yanked into the diamond dog's arms as he sniffed and scrutinized me, pinching my skin. He wiggled my arm to some degree, testing my fingers before turning his gaze to Steady Line again.
“Big Ugly lean,” he growled, letting me go. “But Brutus work with this. Brutus make him strong.”
My former supervisor saluted to us both.
“Then I leave him in your paws, Brutus. Train him well.”
Brutus saluted as well, attempting to smile before resetting his expression and turning to me.
“First lesson for Big Ugly,” ruffed the diamond dog as he pointed to the ground. “Dig.”
“Dig?” I parroted, squatting down. “You mean, with a shovel?”
Brutus shook his head.
“No, no shovel,” he grunted. “Dig with hands!”
I looked to my hands, comparing my slender fingers to his meaty paws. I shared a glance with the dog before acquiescing, getting onto my knees. The ground wasn't too hard to break, but it was difficult to dig, at first. My hands just weren't made for it, like the Diamond Dog's was. I just crouched there, my nails being filled with dirt as I made a pathetic little divot in the dirt. After a while, all I had was a hole big enough to perhaps trip an inattentive recruit.
I looked up sheepishly at the diamond dog, whose face was buried in a paw.
“Even my kind can't dig through water.”
***
The next day had started unlike the usual grind I had been used to in basic training. After my rather pitiful attempt at digging a hole from the prior day, Brutus had me move into a cave that he had ostensibly dug many moons ago. I was given the bare necessities of furnishings and expected to lie on cold, smooth stone. While not the worst night's sleep in my life, it did not do my back any goodwill. It didn't help that I was awoken by the timbre of Brutus' howls before the sun had even risen.
As my hands glided across the smooth stone and I pulled myself up to a conscious state, I found myself bathed in the last lights of Luna's silvery moon as the curtain of evening was pulled away to reveal the dawn's early light.
“We got a lot of work today, big ugly,” Brutus snarled. “Hands weak. We gonna make them strong.”
Without a word in edgewise, I found myself being forced to my feet as I was marched out to the sunlight. It was warm this morning, with the stone much warmer at the mouth of the cave, much to my comfort. However, my sunbathing would have to wait as a large weight was placed upon my shoulders. Specifically, a heavy bag of what I assumed to be filled some form of grains or beans. The weight nearly threw me off balance, had I not barely caught myself.
“First, we work on upper body. You carry sack up mountain face,” Barked my new instructor, running ahead of me. “Come to me with bag, we move on.”
I was going to ask him a few questions, but before long, he was already gone up the mountain. As I looked about, I noticed two things. First, I was somewhat high, even considering where this cave was. Second, the mountain face was rather narrow, making it difficult for me to progress. The weight of the sack did not help matters. I had to inch my way up the mountain with little time for respite as another summer's sun belted down upon me. Though it was by no means easy, the initial effort was relatively without incident.
My first challenge came when I saw a series of stepping stones.
There were two main ways for me to die on this cliff. One was falling, and the other was falling. The key was in where I stepped. You see, if I decided to die right away, I'd have stepped on the loose rocks up ahead that had nothing but cliff until I hit the ground. If I wanted it to be slow and agonizing, with a small chance of survival, I'd have stepped on the loose rocks that were nearing my feet slide towards the edge, and fall towards what appeared to be a large body of water down below.
I was not particularly keen on dying either death. It was imperative that I survive this encounter.
The weight of the large sack still upon me, I hopped onto one of the stones, cringing as I heard a crumbling noise upon my landing. I then skipped onto the next stone, nearly losing my footing as I jumped further forward. I cringed as the rocks seemed to give way, leaping onto what I hoped to be solid ground. After feeling the stone stand strong, I heaved a sigh of relief and reclined into the rock face, carefully lying down the bag as I caught my breath.
The sun had almost barely moved. It hadn't changed its course or went any higher or lower. It just stood where it was for an instant, as if it were mocking me. It hanged there in a stagnant pause, taunting me with how little progress I had achieved. I wasn't staring at it so much as it was staring at me.
I wasn't going to let a mass of gas and fire best me.
With wind restored to my lungs, I rose to my feat, hoisting the bag onto my shoulders as I pressed onward. Along the way, I briefly removed my helmet.. The sun continuing to tease me with its warmth, I ascended the steep mountain face with renewed resolve, my sack hoisted over my shoulders like a newborn foal.
As I carried on, I began to hear the sounds of flowing water. The roar of a waterfall caught my ears as I inched along the wall of the mountain. Knowing the water would soak the contents of this bag, I shifted the weight from my back and held it to my chest. I crept around the corner, seeing a column of heavy water spraying down onto another set of stepping stones. There looked to be a gap in the water's flow that I could slip through, but it seemed too narrow for me to cross it with the sack in hands.
Nevertheless, I made the attempt. I held the sack to my breast like a mother would cradle her child and began to shuffle beneath the steam, my back to the wall. I began to shuffle against it, the burlap bag close to me as I felt the water across my face. A refreshing coolness washed over me as I took a sip of the freshwater jubilantly. Ever so gently, I scuttled across, making sure this bundle of burlap didn't leave my arms. My heart nearly skipped a beat when I narrowly lost my footing on the ledge, but I managed to stand firm as my arms clutched around this bundle of possible grains as if my life depended on it. As I yanked myself backwards, I found myself crashing on my behind into what appeared to be a cavern.
In retrospect, it was much less a cavern, and more like a tunnel.
Perhaps Brutus had dug it out at one point?
Not one to pass up an opportunity to evade further tribulation, I took the shortcut presented to me with joy. Much like the canine who was siring me, I shook away the moisture of the waterfall, proceeding up the cavern as I welcomed the embrace of the warm sun. Though I had shunned it the day before, now, it's warmth was a blessing. I suppose one could say it was both a curse and a blessing for me.
And speaking of curses, it seemed my luck was accursed. Before me now was a length of rope. It looked strong enough for me to use it to ascend upward, but there was a single complication:
The sack.
Knowing Brutus, he expected me to climb this with the sack in tow. So, for my first attempt, I hoisted the sack across my shoulders as I try to shimmy up the length. As I made a few lengths up, I felt the weight come off my shoulders as the sack pathetically puffed onto the ground. I groaned to myself and rappelled down. I had to think of another way to ascend. In another attempt, I picked the sack up between my legs and attempted to do so that way. While I managed to get further in this attempt, as I did, I felt the sack slip past my thighs, and soon after, the sack fell again.
I quickly began to detest this sack. It was as if it were specifically made to test me.
However, as a wise man had once said, “If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.” This in mind, I decided to attempt one of the most idiotic, yet strangely logical plans of my time as a squire.
Much like I had for the waterfall, I positioned the sack in front of me. Carefully, I held the top between my elbows, with the bottom between my knees. With my hands and feet, I gripped the rope, and inched upward like a caterpillar. It was slow, it was difficult, it was tedious, but it was efficient. Higher and higher did I climb, beads of sweat mixing with what remained of the water from the waterfall as I carefully made my ascent.
Eventually, through some stroke of luck, I was able to make it to the top. And as expected, Brutus was there waiting, gnawing away at a bone.
“So,” he snarled. “Big ugly make it to the top with sack in hands!”
For no real reason, the Diamond Dog tossed the bone off the cliffside and smiled.
“Test almost done. Just need to do one more thing,” he growled, looking to me.
“And what,” I panted, “Would that be?”
In response, I saw the dog shed his armor and throw it on the ground.
“You and me wrestle. Test your might. No weapons, no armor. Just us.”
Part of me thought he was crazy. This dog wanted me to strip to my bare essentials and wrestle him? I had read in books of the rather odd training regiments of pegasi and other such militaristic peoples, but I never did bat much of an eye about the concept of fighting nude. It was how most ponies were bred, and it was partially how I was raised. But to fight someone of a species close to my own, with nothing but my skin? I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea.
However, seeing I had little choice in the matter, I complied, removing my own armor, baring myself to the hot sun and the cool stone. My legs spaced apart as I dropped into a low stance. Some primal instinct seemed to come to me as I stared into Brutus's eyes. I had done this before. My opponent and I would circle around, our front appendages raised to each other before we began the clash.
At first, my hands meshed with his paws like a set of cogs. I tried to push back, but found myself being tossed to the other side of the cliff, only barely able to catch myself as I landed on my feet, charging the dog as he attempted to pounce me, scoring a respectable hit to his stomach. Such a hit did not stop him long, however, as he quickly attempted to swipe at me. I was barely able to evade his claws, one of them grazing my face, a modicum of sanguine fluid leaving my cheek.
I replied in kind with a thrust of my fist, crashing it into Brutus' exposed countenance as he reeled back. Not one to be outdone, Brutus charged again. This time, however, I was prepared, tackling him as he made the attempt. As I had him clinched beneath me, I landed a succession of punches on his body before he had managed to kick me off and drill down into the stone like a mole.
For a moment, the battle ceases. An errant wind carries it way through my ears as my feet shook to seek out the dog beneath me. Vibrations carried up my legs as I prepared to endure the worst, bracing my arms across my face. Sure enough, Brutus breached the stone like a dolphin from water, and I felt his large, meaty fist crash against my arms, tearing away at my defense and leaving me ever more exposed to attack. As I heaved myself back into a fighting form, I cleared my throat, spitting out another modicum of blood.
“Big Ugly is tougher than I thought! Maybe you're worthy of Brutus' secrets after all!” the cocky canine chuckled with a toothy grin.
He was allowed only a brief moment to enjoy calling me by that demeaning moniker as I rightfully knocked the wind from his lungs with a swift buck to the groin, causing him to whine rather effeminately. Not but an instant after, I rammed him back into the stone. It was time to show him what happened when I was pressed too hard.
I seized his collar and proceeded to pummel the lupine with a particularly passionate series of punches, punctuating my last few poundings with a single boast:
“My name,” I began, bringing my knee into Brutus' belly, followed by a stern strike against Brutus' left eye. “Is Lance.”
And then, for a brief instant, time slowed as my definitive blow of my right fist crashed into Brutus' black fur as if it were being propelled by a rocket.
“PETAL!”
For a moment, I simply remained straddled on top of him, before letting a heavy breath exit my throat, my body rolling next to the supine form of my superior. A silence took our makeshift arena, and we simply gazed at the sun. The only sound that remained was the sound of a mountaintop's wind whistling into our ears and our own weary breaths.
At least, until I heard the dry, wheezing laughs of Brutus break the tension.
What is he laughing about?
“Brutus... did not expect Big U- Lance to be so strong,” he chuckled, beginning to stand as he neared the sack. “Brutus proud. Lance not so weak after all.”
The diamond dog brought his claws to the sack, tearing it open as a wave of dark, bitter-smelling beans spill out on the surface.
“We train more tomorrow,” Brutus woofed, smiling, “But today, we eat, we drink, and be happy.”
In my exhaustion, I found it hard to sit up, but as I did, I took a few of the beans in my hands curiously.
“What are these, Brutus?” I quipped, taking a whiff of their rather bitter scent.
“Coffee Beans,” Brutus tersely replied, beginning to grind the beans into grains. “Brutus use them to make coffee. Nice and warm. Helps keep Brutus awake after long day.”
I smiled and nodded, watching as he created a strange concoction using an even odder set of tools, pouring the drink into two cups, serving one to me.
“Careful,” He warned as he took a sip. “Coffee hot.”
I almost couldn't hear him as I took a swig. Almost immediately, I regretting doing so, spitting out the bitter substance as I look to Brutus.
“What is this stuff?” I asked, looking to the steaming broth in my hand.
“Bitter,” the dog replied, chuckling. “Brutus got used to it.”
I didn't quite understand Brutus' statement, but I nonetheless continued to drink.
And so ended a rather strange day of training for me. What was originally a test of strength and endurance became a friendship forged in the fires of battle, and my evening nude coffee break with Brutus was a standing, if awkward, symbol of it.
***
A few months passed since that faithful day with Brutus. Though Brutus did not relent in his rather spartan method of training me, I can't say that his efforts weren't fruitful. I did gain a good deal of muscle mass for my trouble, and if nothing else, I at least know how to systematically dig holes with almost machine-like efficiency. That, and he was as good of a sparring partner as he is a personal trainer.
Today was an eventful day for me, just as much as it was for my fellow soldiers-to be. After months of arduous training physically, mentally, and emotionally, the day finally came to graduate to become true soldiers. In celebration of the occasion, I and my peers were clad in our finest evening wear. Gold and silver tuxedos for all of us. However, I was perhaps the only one in the assembly wearing any pants. Not that I minded, though; I thought it made me more distinguished, considering my stature. I was stood in the middle of the crowd, a head above the rest of the congregation as the mare I called my mother took her place behind the podium, her polychromatic mane and ivory coat clear in the late afternoon sunlight.
A hush fell over us all as she cleared her throat.
“Thank you all for coming, my loyal subjects,” she began, bowing her head. “Today is a very momentous day for you all. A few years ago, you all came to this castle. Your eyes were bright with the passionate fire of youth, and you believed yourselves worthy of being members of the Royal Guard. We gave you a sobering taste of reality, snuffing that flame out so that we would rekindle it anew with the flame of a warrior's heart.
“You've all been tested in some way. Some of you in body, others in mind, and others still in spirit. We've put you through your paces, rebuilding you from the ground up into true soldiers. Each and every one of you brought your very best to these training exercises. Thank you for your hard work. Now, never forget what you've learned here - on the battlefield, it could spell the difference between life and death. I pray we meet again someday."
With this, she nodded, smiling ever so gently.
“With that, I humbly dismiss you; you have earned a good rest.”
At her royal cue, I and my compatriots saluted to her, our stern expressions hiding our relieved elation. Immediately, they filed away, and I merely watched them. Perhaps I could have gone to my bunk, or retired to watch the setting sun, but before I could do either of the two, that same velveteen voice that had addressed me and countless other ponies called to me.
“Lance,” she hummed as she came to me with a tender smile. “Before you leave, I would like for you to see me in the throne room tomorrow. There is something very important that I and Aunt Luna would like to discuss with you.”
I looked to the mare whom I called my mother with curiosity. “What might that entail?”
Celestia simply responded to my query with a calm, noble chuckle. “That will be revealed in due time, Lance. You really should rest.”
She patted my head with her wing, touching my forehead with her horn.
“I understand, mother,” I sighed, stretching. “You know what is best, after all.”
Mother smiled again, her ethereal mane caressing my chin.
“You always were such an obedient one, Lance,” she said clearly.
And so, with her informal dismissal of me, I departed to my room, my armored feet shuffling across the cobblestone. I pondered her words in silence, half-excited and half-anxious for what would come soon.