Amidst a garden of dark purple roses, a stallion stands still, with his heart about to burst through his chest. For the first time in his adult life, he is scared. Even the intoxicating smell of the surrounding flowers fails to milden his nervousness. They must be another test, he thinks to himself. The roses are meant to lull me into a false sense of security. He breathes in an extremely controlled fashion, as if guarding against the scents of the garden. I will show Her that it will take more than just some plants to trick me.
A shadow moves between the plantings, he can see it from the corner of his eye. She is here. By the Moon and Stars, She is here… Immediately Helm’s posture becomes electrified, and his already flawless stance loses even the ghost of slacking. He becomes another statue of the Night Garden, an immobile sculpture of physical perfection. My whole life I have waited for this moment. Night, give me strenght. A moment goes in silence so deep that even the rustle of the rose leaves seems noisy.
Then, a voice like the softest velvet whispers to him from the darkness. “Crescent Helm. Welcome to the Night Garden.”
The stallion draws a lungful of scented air, and says: “Princess Luna; I, Crescent Helm, your leal subject and dedicated follower, wish to offer you my life for eternal service, to guard you from harm and to bring honour to your Name and House.” Another deep breath. “By your Grace, allow me to become a member of your Night Guard.” The litany ends there. Now she is supposed to assign me one more task, one more test, and if I pass, I will become one with my dream. Helm waits in silence, expecting her answer.
Luna’s voice seems to come from nowhere, and from everywhere. “I shall accept your vow, Crescent Helm… on one condition.” The pause in her speech almost makes him tremble. “You must recite me a poem. A poem of your own design.”
Helm’s heart skips a beat, and it’s by a luck alone that he manages to stifle the words “What the Hay!” to his throat. Nopony warned me about this! I’m not a poet! I’m a soldier, trained to fight to the death if need be. This is absurd. Anger, confusion, and panic clog up his mind and paralyze his thoughts. He can only stand there in silence, blinking his eyes and breathing that dulling scent. He is beginning to sweat.
“...well?” asks Luna, her voice a tad more demanding this time.
Helm closes his eyes, and says:
“A little colt
dreaming bold
hooves straining to grasp
that which he can never…” Touch? Hold? Keep? No no no, those don’t rhyme at all… Quickly, think of something, think of anything, think of–
“Clasp,” finishes Luna. She walks into the circle of moonlight in front of Helm, smiling faintly. “Welcome to the Night Guard, Crescent Helm.”