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// Early to Rise 
// Story: It was a Different Time... 
// by OneCoolBrony 
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	Spell Sword was up before the sun, though not begrudgingly. It gave him about an hour or so before he really had to get up. An hour were he could be left alone with his thoughts. 

If Gilded Armour had told the truth, and there was no reason for him not to, Spell Sword would not be able to write in his journal for quite some time after today. Mobilization made it a pain in the ass to find time to sit down, let alone write.

Reaching out with his magic, he detected the familiar aura of his satchel, an aura he had called upon time and time again. Seizing it, he manipulated it so that it floated over to him.

Once the satchel had floated close enough to him, he took it in his hooves, opting to rifle through it with them rather than attempting to weave through its clutter with his mind.

Pulling out a familiar leather-bound notebook (monster leather he had harvested, let it be said) along with a quill and some ink. Opening his journal to the first page that wasn't already filled, he took his quill up with his magic and dipped it in the now open ink. After the tip was whetted of it's need for ink, he proceeded to write down his more notable experiences that had occurred since his last entry. 

After finishing up his writing session, Sell Sword decided to chance a look outside of his tent's flap. Seeing the Commanding Officer take his position to start yelling at everypony to get up, he steeled himself to get out of the almost comfortable bedroll. 

"RISE AND SHINE, COLTS. IT'S A NEW DAY AND Y'ALL ARE GON' GET SOME NEWS! GET UP! I WANNA SEEYA MOVE! NOT FAST ENOUGH, TIP!" Spearhead made a point to increase his pace as the C.O. called him out. 

Spell Sword was of the first three to exit his tent and was the first to line up. As the last stallions fell in line, the C.O. nodded his head, satisfied, if only slightly. 

"Alright, colts. I know some of you have heard about the possibility of mobilization soon here. I know since I've heard several of your dumb asses gossipin' 'bout it. I don't know exactly what you've heard, but mostly it's true."

Most ponies would have gasped or engaged in small, worried chatter over this revelation. None of the soldiers flinched. 

"Heh, good colts. Now, we're gonna be on the move first thing tommora, so after y'all get somethin' in yer stomachs, you get your asses packin'. Ya hear?!" 

"HOO-AH!" Confirmed all the soldiers in unison. The C.O. nodding his head and dismissed them to breakfast. Gilded Armour took no time to find Spell Sword and start going on and on about how ready he was, and how many monsters he was going to kill. Spell Sword just let him go on and paid him no mind, opting to dwell on it internally.

After breakfast he packed up anything he wasn't going to be needing for the rest of the day and tonight. Leaving out only his satchel, journal, bedroll, and cup. He nodded when he was satisfied he had packed up adequately, and took to his daily responsibilities, leaving the journal until he had time for it later. Towards the end of the day, if he were to be honest with himself.