//------------------------------// // Disoriented // Story: Man behind the Mask // by Reticent Architect //------------------------------// ~==========Carlos==========~ Cold. It was so fucking cold. My head pounded painfully. It felt tender, like a giant bruise. I tried to move. My heart raced and my breath hitched. ‘Oh God, no. Please, no!’ I tried to move to no avail. My body adamantly refused to obey my commands. Images of wheelchairs and hospital beds flew through my mind at lightning speeds, as icy, stupid panic shot through my brain. I tried to open my eyes. White. So bright! ‘Jesus!’ I shut my eyes before they started bleeding! They throbbed and pulsed as I slowly opened them. The bright light seared them, but slowly my eyes acclimated. Despite my efforts, I could barely keep my eyes open. They slid about lethargically on their own, with only the barest of inputs from me. I caught bits and pieces of my surroundings. Tall, dark trees with evergreen needles. Tiny, white flakes fell by the thousands. Everything in sight was coated with snow. ‘Since... when does it snow in Florida?’ I struggled for a few moments, before succumbing to my fatigue. Fuzzy pseudo-warmth invaded my senses, and my eyes closed. My eyes opened. The shadows on the ground rotated. Thick, grey clouds raced quickly across the skies. The sun hid behind them. My eyes closed. My eyes opened. The shadows moved. The ground turned white and lumpy. Cold air bit at my lungs with every breath. My eyes closed. My eyes opened. The shadows lengthened. Fuzzy whiteness clung to the edge of my vision. Crunching sounds pierced the air nearby. My eyes closed. A faint tugging broke my stupor. My eyes opened. The furious bright light that previously assaulted my eyes had dimmed considerably. Frost bordered my view, as though I was looking through glass. I blinked several times, but the icy veil wouldn’t clear from my eyes. ‘Weird. They feel fine to me.’ My leg suddenly jerked backward, and I shifted myself to look at it. My body was sluggish. It felt as though I was trying to swim through syrup. My leg spasmed once again, and I looked at it. It looked quite normal. I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. It wasn’t bending in any odd directions. My foot seemed to be caught on a chunk of sno--JERK! CRUNCH! My breath hitched. The hunk of compacted ice at my feet moved, yanking my foot wildly side-to-side, like a dog. Two long, thick spears of ice curved from the mouth, refracting the dark pits embedded into the snout. Snow white fur with clumps of frost clung to it covered a hide thick enough to stop spears. Deep, sunken pits obscured beady, black eyes the size of my fist! Large amounts of snow were kicked up each time the beast reared its head back and dug its cloven hooves into the ground. Razor-sharp teeth lined a mouth that was way too wide for its body, which already rivaled most SUVs with its bulk! Teeth that were firmly clamped around my fucking leg!! I felt a dull, slightly painful pressure as the boar tried to chew through my boot. ‘Don’t panic! Don’t panic! Don’t panic!’ A lance of hot pain jerked up my spine from my calf, drawing an involuntary cry from my throat. My hand shot to my mouth, though I couldn’t feel either body part. It was too late. The beast swing its massive head towards me. Its clear tusks glinted in the remains of the daylight. They promised a particularly brutal death.It grunted and scraped its hoof against the snow. Thick muscles rippled along its neck and shoulders. I fumbled backwards, turned and dragged myself to my knees. My head spun, bile and copper heavy on my tongue. My stomach leapt into my throat. My arms shook. I tried my hardest to keep myself stable, and-- Alarm pierced through my thoughts, something behind me pulled at my attention. ‘Fucking MOVE!’ It lunged! Before I realized what had happened, I’d already thrown myself to the side. A wall of flesh barreled past me. A small wave of dislodged snow peppered my back; It stung like a wall of hornets! Teeth gritted, I pushed myself on to my wobbly legs. I nearly fell forward as I started running. It was a slow start, but I quickly picked up speed. My legs pumped furiously as the demented lovechild of a squeal and a roar sounded off behind me. ‘Oh god!’ My ears vibrated violently with the force of its cry. I could hear the crunching of its hooves in the snow. I could smell the sour milk and barnyard stench that rolled off it in waves. I could feel its hot, moist breath seeping through my robes in rancid bursts. It was right behind me. The forest spun, and my stomach churned as my body gave its best damn shot at reorienting me. Branches whipped past my head and chest; the occasional sting only added to the difficulty of slogging through snow in heavy robes. A light sheen of sweat covered me, forcing bits of my clothing to stick to me. My breath was heavy and ragged. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get enough air in my lungs! My head pulsed and pounded like a shitty college rave, and I-- ROOT! I jumped way too late, and spun as I fell forward. My leg, still caught on the root, wrenched painfully! My face was introduced to the owner of said root a split second later, and I bounced off the trunk with a dull thunk. A heavy cracking followed by a crash sounded off, but I was too busy being thrown ass over teakettle to care. I rolled down a ditch, my arms thrown over my head in panic. My leg exploded with fresh pain every time it touched the ground. Crunch-kra-kraaaak! Agony tore through my mind, intense and unforgiving! My arm collapsed beneath me, and frigid numbness bloomed over my body. Darkness obscured my periphery. It was only the chill of the water that seeped into my clothes that kept me conscious. I struggled for a few moments to keep from slipping under the ice; I’d been sent careening headfirst into a creek that had frozen over. I tried to pick myself up, but my right arm burned with white hot pain, and I crumpled like an old beer can, then fell to my back. A deep, groaning sound drew my attention back up the hill. ‘Wow, that felt like a much shorter fall than it rea--’ My jaw dropped. A thick, clear tusk impaled the tree I’d bashed into! A wreath of splinters decorated the spot where it emerged from the other side, jutting out at least another foot from a trunk that would put my arm span to shame. The massive beast attached to it strained against the towering pine. Its branches showered the ditch with snow as they shook under the boar’s herculean efforts. The roots began to show themselves under the snow. It was determined. It was mighty! I was so fucked. My eyes widened in horror, and I tried to drag myself away. I made it all of 5 feet before I heard the tree above snap like twig. The boar eyed me, all teeth and malice. It scraped its hoof against the ground, its powerful legs coiled up. I stumbled and scrambled backwards. The hill behind me stopped my retreat; the snow crunched with a finality that I could not dread more if I tried. I was hemmed in on all sides by impassible ice and rock. The beast bellowed long and low. It was the last sound I’d ever hear. It charged. I shut my eyes and threw out my good arm in the vain hope that it would save me from my grisly end. A loud squeal and a thundering crash shattered my cool, and I screamed. And screamed. And screamed…. Admittedly for a lot longer than I should have. It was manly, though! More of a battlecry, really! …. Yeah. My hammering heart and burning lungs brought me out of my pants-pissing terror raging roar. I sucked in the chilled air and peered beyond my splayed fingers for the source of my death. For the nth time today, I was struck speechless. Before me, part of the hill was swept clear of snow, to the extent that chunks of rock and earth were torn out and flung haphazardly. The tree, once hanging on by a small section of trunk, now lay backwards, its trunk splintered and frayed. Most importantly, the hellbeast was nowhere to be seen. …. ‘Did… it just charge backwards?’ … ‘Why am I complaining?!’ I dragged myself up the hill. It was a laborious climb without using my right arm. I peeked above the hill slowly, but my fears were baseless. The beast retreated, and left me alone on the hill. The destruction was… If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed that the creature was capable of such a thing. Though why it felt the need to tear up half the hill as it ran, let alone run at all, was beyond me. Something glittery caught my eye. Embedded in the fragmented remains of the trunk was the tusk of the beast that’d nearly ended my life. It was supported by chunks of wood, and exposed to the air. It looked like an artifact, cradled by the ruins of the tree. Some part of me felt like abandoning it. Night was going to fall soon, and I didn’t like the idea of being caught in the cold. Well... the colder, anyways. Yet…. ‘I’ve been chased across this damn forest by Pumba’s demonic uncle. I’ve been beaten, tripped, I’m pretty sure my arm’s fucked up, if not broken. I’m cold. I’m hungry! I hurt EVERYWHERE! Fuck it! I’m getting something out of it!’ I grabbed the tusk, and my hand tingled as I did. It felt like the uncomfortable sensation right before you get stung by static, that slight paranoia when you know it’s coming. The fact that it was exposed belied just how deeply wedged in it was. It took several minutes of yanking and tearing before it slid out anticlimactically. It felt cool to the touch, yet despite its icy appearance, it was warmer than the snow surrounding me. It had grown considerably more dull, as what little light that filtered through the clouds above was starting to wane. It was dusk. ‘Oh great. Winter is coming...’ The thought brought a grim smile to my face, despite myself. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It didn’t take me long to find a shelter for the night, surprisingly. A short while of dragging my battered form through the forest led me to a small dip in the land, a sort of alcove between hills that was shielded from the worst of the wind. This was a must, as the wind had picked up considerably. It whipped through the forest, pelting me with fresh snow, both stinging and numbing me at once. A more exhaustive search of the alcove bore fruit in the form of a small cave. Without really checking (a foolish move, considering that the forest’s inhabitants have proven their ferocity) I crawled into the cave, and sighed with relief. It wasn’t inhabited. What’s more, I was effectively protected from the elements on two sides by rock, and a third side by thick bushes. With a little work, I was able to pile snow on the last side, effectively sealing the cave from the worst that nature had to offer, while leaving proper ventilation via the bushes. Id finished as the last dregs of light faded away. I barely had enough room to sit up comfortably. I couldn’t stand at all. The rocky ground made it tough to find a position to sit in a satisfying position. When I leaned against the cave wall, something pressed against my back. At first I thought it might be the tusk, but after laying that on my lap, I reached back again and found something tangled on my satchels. I stiffened. The bag looked torn in a few places, yet the contents remained encased in the bright blue fabric. It still bulged with the goodies held within. I opened the drawstring and dumped the contents out into my lap. A couple dozen fist-sized spheres spilled out. Most were a dull, metallic grey, with twisted metal cords wrapped around their surface. A half dozen were brightly polished chrome. They had small, red indicator lights that remained off, and a small switch that clung to their surfaces. Something about them felt off, so I decided not to fiddle with them. Another half dozen were a polished white substance, with small green circuits that glowed under their surface. Two cases about as large as the average laptop, one brown and the other white, sat at the bottom of the bag. I slipped them out and put the bag and the rest of its contents down. I fiddled with the white one. It had small red markings all around the edge of the case, with a large symbol in the center. Though I didn’t recognize it, I figured the color scheme was identifiable enough. I found the latch on one side of the case and pressed it. Whhrrrrrr! I jumped and looked down at the now rapidly expanding case. It grew to the size of a desktop tower, though did not weigh any more than it did a moment ago. When it stopped, it popped open, and several panels swung out of the case, suspended by well oiled hinges. Before me was a wide assortment of gadgets, vials, and bandages, most of which I’d never seen before. At the bottom most portion of the case were two large canisters of clear fluid. One was a bluish grey, the other a bright translucent blue. Another of the green spheres sat between them. I quickly packed the case again. When I closed it, it compressed back to the size of a laptop. I was surprised to find that I could press a latch and fold it on itself lengthwise. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but I was too tired to question it. A quick inspection of the brown case turned up a small foil package, small lengths of rope, and a few other odds and ends I didn’t recognize. I did find something that looked suspiciously like a pistol. It was short and squat, with an oddly shaped grip. I couldn’t find any place for a clip to rest, given that the grip was solid. Not that I was particularly familiar with firearms to begin with. Still, I didn’t feel like messing with it at the moment. Always respect the gun. I knew at least that much from TV. At the bottom of the brown case, I found the most beautiful thing in the world to me. The case was packed from side to side with foil-wrapped bars and sticks. “FOOD!” I could barely contain my excitement. My stomach was already halfway through tearing itself apart. I tore through that foil with a speed that would make Usain Bolt flush with envy. The bar was small and brown; it certainly didn’t look like chocolate. ‘Maybe a protein bar?’ I crammed that thing into my mou--Thunk! Correction. It bounced off my mouth. …. ‘Wait, what?’ For the first time since waking, I touched my face. I actually paid attention to what I was feeling. Though the gloves, I could feel a cool, smooth surface that didn’t match the contours of my face at all. What’s worse? I could see my fingers stop an inch from my face, pressed against some invisible surface. My stomach did a slow roll and I tore off my hood and felt around. Whatever clung to my face wrapped around my head as well. I tore at it with my fingers, but could not find purchase. My breath quickened. ‘What the fuck what the fuck what the fu--!’ “GET OFF!” I roared! Suddenly my vision cut off completely. A small series of clicks and whirs invaded the quiet of the cave as whatever the hell it was writhed on my skull. I found a way to dig my fingers in and pulled with all my might! Light returned to me with a dull clatter. Instantly, the air I was breathing in chilled by 20 degrees! I could suddenly see my breath, and my body temperature started to drop. I looked down at the thing that was on my face. The mask lay on its face, its interior revealed to me. I breathed a sigh of relief, happy that it wasn’t a facehugger, or giant face cancer or something. I picked it up and cradled it in my arm. Despite everything, I couldn’t bear to mistreat it. It was my only source of heating after all! ‘It doesn’t even have a scratch on it. What did that guy make this out of?’ I froze. My hands clenched; my knuckles blanched in their gloves. I breathed slowly through my nose. Each breath felt like smoke from an angry dragon’s mouth. I struggled to control the fury roiling in my gut. ‘That old bastard...’ I wanted so desperately to punch something. To beat the hell out of it over and over again. Annoyingly, the only things in this cave were either too valuable to pummel, or a rock. ‘God damn it...’ “Hijo de puta!” Long streams of the most inventive curses I could find, in every language I could muster, streamed from under my breath. It didn’t make me feel any better. I stomped my feet and slammed my hands on the hard walls and floor until they were sore and throbbing. It didn’t lessen my anger. Finally, I resorted to screaming all my rage and frustration out at the top of my lungs, until my throat was raw and my voice raspy. It didn’t quell the burning venom inside. That greasy, old fuck played me like a damned fiddle! I’m not sure how, or even why, but he did. He yanked me like a puppet on a string, and I did absolutely nothing to stop him. I played right into his hands. Drugs in the airvent, hypnosis, it didn’t matter to me. He made this happen to me somehow, and he made me grateful for it. Hell, I even paid him for it! But not anymore. No, I was finally thinking clearly. The shit (whatever it may have been) was out of my system now, and the only thing left was the undeniable urge to cave that asshole’s face in. “When I get my hands on him,” I swore “I’ll rip his fucking teeth out!” I brooded and stewed in my anger. Several minutes passed while entertaining myself with thoughts of revenge, of confronting him and making him pay for putting me here. My frown eventually deepened, as with every gratifying scenario of bravado and justice, a small voice of doubt niggled at me. ‘How? How are you going to do that? How are you going to find him? He put you here, can you stop him from doing that again? Where even is here? How will you get home?’ With every self-punishing thought, uncertainty settled deeper in my mind. Fear and hate battled within. My desire to beat the Merchant (as I’d come to call him in my mind) to death warred against my desire to go home. To see my family. To see my brother. ‘All I wanted was to go to a con with my best friend, and have a good ti-’ I shot up so fast I bashed my head against the ceiling. Pain stung my head in waves, but I didn’t care. I was too preoccupied with the worry that had commandeered my thoughts. I tried to exit the cave, but the strong winds bit at my exposed face, and forced me back into the bushes. Reluctantly, I lifted the mask to my face. Whether I liked it or not, it protected me from the cold. Apprehension turned to fear as the mask shot to life. With a chorus of clicks, a series of fibers and plates wrapped around my head. The cup at the mouth sealed with a hiss, and the steam from my breath disappeared. The air immediately felt warmer. My eyes remained blind for a few moments, before the screen on the inside of the mask flickered to life. Alien symbols danced before me for a minute. Eventually, the symbols retreated to a corner of my vision, and rock wall was revealed in front of me. It certainly seemed brighter than it was with the mask off. I frowned. I wasn’t aware that Revan’s mask had so many gadgets stuffed into it. I was sure that without being able to read the language, I’d never know more than a fraction of what this mask was capable of. Part of me was upset, as it didn’t really seem to fit Revan’s character. Another part of me was disgusted by the first part, as I had much bigger things to worry about in the moment. Besides, Revan salvaged his mask from a war-torn world; It belonged to a Mandalorian to begin with. So who was I to say what it could and couldn’t do? I crawled out of the cave and rose to my feet. The cold wind raked my body, and pulling the cape around me didn’t seem to help much. “MAAAARCUUUUUUS!” I shouted as loud as I could. I could barely hear myself over the roaring winds. The mask muffling my voice certainly didn’t help matters. I pulled myself as high on to the surrounding hill as I could, which wasn’t very much. Even with my thick robes, the wind was too fierce for me! “MAAA-AAACK!” I fell backward in surprise as my now greatly amplified voice boomed over the hills. I tumbled down the slope and picked myself up, covered in snow. I shook the slush from my head. Thankfully the hood prevented me from being soaked. I climbed the hill again, determined to take advantage of whatever this temperamental thing felt like handing to me. “MAAAAARCUUUUUUS!” It was a longshot, I knew it. I knew a smart criminal would never have left us together. One captive is much easier to control than two. I knew for a fact that Marcus was in the shop with me when I was drugged, or whatever happened to me. There was a chance, however small, that he was out here with me. Possibly freezing to death… “MAAAAARCUUUUUS!” He might have even been attacked by that pig-beast. I strained against the storm in hopes of hearing a response. I shouted myself hoarse, until I could no longer feel my fingers. Finally, the storm overcame me. I couldn’t risk freezing to find Marcus. As much as it hurt me, I knew that if I got sick or fell, I’d have no chance of finding Marcus at all. With a heavy heart, I dragged myself back into my meager shelter. I was too tired to mess around with any of the items I was given. My limbs felt heavy. I re-wrapped the food bar as best I could. It didn’t look nearly as appetizing anymore. Like the white case, the brown case folded in on itself when closed. One stacked on the other made a decent pillow, if nowhere near as comfortable as I was used to. I curled up on my side as tightly as I could, for warmth. Slowly, the tension from the day seeped out of my beaten body. I felt wrecked, both physically (as I had been since waking), and now emotionally. The harsh reality of the day assaulted me in full force. I was kidnapped and left for dead. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and a bag full of crap I’ve never heard of let alone seen before. I hadn’t seen another person all day. Between the huge animals outside and the weather, I was in for a hell of a time getting out of here in one piece. ……. And I had no idea where Marcus was. I took one last look at this place that I’d made for myself. Suddenly it felt much bigger than it used to be. Suddenly, it lost a bit of its warmth. My limbs shook as I settled myself in for a long, cold night in the silence. ‘.... Huh. It dries moisture. Go figure.’ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~==========Elsewhere==========~ A blast of icy wind buffeted Emerald Dust as she stepped out from the shelter of the local granary. The smell of herbs and spices brought fond memories of cozy nights spent in front of a warm fire with fresh stew. Of days spent with her sisters playing, and hearty family meals. Another gust of wind. She shivered and bit down, and pulled her cloak tighter across her withers, covering her deep green form. She shrugged as best she could, to settle the weight of the old, poorly made armor that made up her uniform. Really, it was little more than layers of heavy cloth and animal hides sewn together with careless abandon. Perhaps, on occasion, a militiamare would add their own personal touch in the form of a slate salvaged from the mines, or a piece of hoof-carved wood. The practice was rare, though, given than armor was shared between her and her fellow guardsmares. She carefully picked her hooves up with every step. Even now in the warmest months of Spring, the snows were deep enough in these parts of the Empire to complicate everyday life. For Emerald, this meant being careful not slip and fall, and not to lose her shoes. Though standard issue among the Crystal Guard and the various militias and watches around the Empire, it was rare for the outlying towns and mining communities to get a shipment of fresh kit. Such luxuries were reserved for the Guard. Thus, Emerald’s own shoes hung loose upon her hooves, made for a pony larger than her. A strip of cloth wedged in each shoe kept them in place. Emerald couldn’t complain. At least the cloth helped keep her hooves warm! Emerald skirted several homes at the edge of the small mining hamlet. She checked the torches posted every ten body-lengths, to ensure they were not low on oil. Thankfully, several were running low, affording Emerald the option to lighten the heavy oil jug she was required to carry when she took her shift. Between refills, she snuck a look at the edge of the trees beyond. The Crystal Pines forest was as dark and foreboding as ever. The trees were quite thick, even at the edge of civilization. What little light the torches provided quickly died in the inky shadows that clung to the forest floor. Even with the blustering wind shaking everything around her, to Emerald every rustling leaf and branch sounded like any one of the menagerie of predators that lived in the deep wood. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold passed through her spine, and she resumed checking the torches and refilled them with renewed enthusiasm. Crunch! Emerald leaped in the air and swung the heaviest weapon she had, her oil jug. She heaved with all her might directly behind her, but her weapon shattered under the foul beast’s wicked-- -- ... Armored hooves. The old guardsmare that stood behind her was drenched in a torrent of foul-smelling oil. The once proud plume hung limp from atop her platinum helmet. Bright orange fur dripped onto the onyx-encrusted breastplate that all Border Watch wore. Her black mane hung in ratty strands from under the soggy helmet. They framed her well worn face, which seemed carved from sheer hate at the moment. “Are you MAD?!” The Tiger roared at Emerald so loud that several homes lit up from within. A few ponies poked their heads out of doorways and windows, and while some lingered, most were quick to disperse when they realized there was no danger. Ponies in the village were hardy, and had little time to waste on the Emerald and her skittish ways. No time that couldn’t be better spent resting after a hard day, anyways. Emerald flinched as the Tiger (as the rest of the town watch had come to call her) stripped her helmet off and shook wildly. Thick drops of oil drizzled all over Emerald, and her attempts to wipe off the rancid liquid only resulted in dirty smears. Emerald shivered as the oil stole any warmth her cloak previously provided. The night felt that much colder. She shuffled nervously from hoof to hoof as the Tiger muttered under her breath. Her Northern Reaches accent gave her speech an odd cadence, with hard consonants and extended ‘U’s, capped with the occasional trilled ‘R’. Even the profanity that streamed from the old mare’s mouth sounded oddly musical, and just a little bit intimidating. The Tiger stamped the ground in front of the smaller mare. Emerald snapped to attention after a full second of panic. The Crystal Guard eyed her salute with disdain. It was sloppy. Shaky. She glared at Emerald, with ears pinned back and her tail swishing. Emerald fought the urge to make herself as small as possible. The Tiger took a long and loud breath before addressing her. “Would ya like to explain to me why ya struck me with your oil jug, cadet?” She spoke in low, menacing tones. Her hoof scraped the ground, quickly becoming muddy. Emerald’s head hung low. “I, um… thought you might be a monster?” She offered with a sheepish grin. The Tiger stared blankly for a minute. Then she swore. “This is why I hate patrol duty outside the Shield! You backwards yokels and yer silly superstitions! How do ya ever expect to become a full fledged member of the Guard if ya flinch and whine at every sound that--” She turned back to Emerald, who had sunk to the ground, forgoing all semblance of professional discipline. The Tiger sighed, and straightened her stance. When she spoke, she kept her voice low and devoid of the harsh tone of moments before. “Look, maybe you should consider going back to the mines,” Emerald rose to protest,” Or at least consider applying for auxiliary duties! Yer clearly not fit to be a full time guard. This is your third rough week in a row, Emerald Dust!” Tiger offered a reassuring smile. “There are mares better suited to this line of work. Ya don’t have to push yerself so hard. Iffin’ yer---” Emerald shot to her hooves. “Wait, please! I can’t stop now. I said I could do this, and I really really mean it! Honest!” “Emerald, ye’ve been saying that for a while now. Perhaps yer better of with your mother, in the mines?” “I can’t go back, ma’am! I just can’t. The mines are so dark and stifling, and the hours are sooo long. I’ll die in there!” She cried. Tiger rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic! You know as well as I that no pony dies in the mi--” “I meant of boredom!” Emerald waves her forelegs for emphasis. Tiger had to fight to keep from chuckling, if for no other reason than to preserve her practiced mask of calm. Emerald caught the glint of amusement in her eyes and lowered herself. Her cheeks colored. “I need this.” She looked the Tiger right in the eye. “ My mother is a miner, her mother was a miner, and her mother, and hers. I don’t want to spend my life wasting away in some dingy cave just so my foals could say the same. This,” She shook her armor with a hoof. “is my chance . To get out of here. To change that. Please…” Emerald’s ears flattened somewhat under Tiger’s gaze. “And you expect that to just make up for three weeks of shoddy performance? A wee speech and everything is made better?” Tiger’s expression hardened. “My job is to create soldiers. Mare’s who can do what must be done to serve and protect the citizens of the Empire. You speak of this profession as if it was ship to a distant land, here to whisk ya away to a life of adventure.” She turned her gaze to the town, and beyond that, the distant edge of the Shield. “Look out there. All those ponies rely on the mares that wear this uniform. They rely on us for safety and guidance, and for justice, should it come to that. It’s a hard life, Emerald. And iffin’ I’m being honest here, I’m not sure yer right for the job. Why not join yer father at the merchantry? Ya can see more of the Empire with him than with yer mother.” Emerald’s face scrunched up. “That’s stallion’s work! Besides, I… “ She glanced in the direction of her home. “I said I’d do this. I know I can do this. I know it isn’t much, but really, isn’t that enough?” The two mares stood in silence for a while. The moon slowly sailed through the sky, a silent observer to all. Emerald’s ears twitched as she tried in vain to scrape dried oil off of matted fur. She sighed and pulled her crusty cloak around her. At least it was warmer. Tiger watched her companion from her peripheral. Emerald watched the cerulean glow of the Shield with wide, bright eyes. A small smile graced the young mare’s features. Already, she was far more calm than the Tiger had ever seen her. She noted with surprise that Emerald looked far more mature when she wasn’t frightened or laughing. Gone was the small filly playing dress up in a grown mare’s armor. In her place, the Tiger saw dozens of other mares, of all shapes and sizes. Some confident, cocky mares in their prime. Others, stern and silent as statues. All of them stood tall and proud in their gleaming platinum armor. The Tiger had trained them. Perhaps Emerald wouldn’t be so different. Still… “I will not train you. Yer unfit to wear the uniform.” She turned to face Emerald, who focused on the Shield. “When the sun rises, I will personally make sure you turn in that armor.” Emerald stayed quiet for a long time. The Tiger sighed, sure that she’d knocked the spirit out of her. Then: “You can do that. I won’t stop you. It’d probably be better if I made my own armor, anyway.” She turned to the Tiger with a grin. “If we’re being honest here, this set isn’t that great.” The Tiger sighed. “You can take the armor, and tell me I’ll never be a guard. You can do it until you run out of breath, if it’d make you feel better. It won’t stop me from showing up for the morning runs, or sparring practice, or etiquette classes. It won’t stop me from being a guard. You won’t stop me.” She looked at her superior officer, and tilted her head at the wry grin she wore. “Good answer.” The Tiger smiled. “Iffin’ we’re going to do this, however, yer going to do what I say, when I say it. Understood?” Emerald beamed. “Ma’am! Yes, Ma’am!” She snapped to attention as best she could in her filthy armor. Still sloppy. “Good! First thing’s first, then! Repeat after me! ‘The beasts can not pass the torches!’” And Emerald repeated. “Excellent! ‘I will do my duty no matter how scared I get!’” And Emerald repeated. “‘There is no such thing as monsters!’” And Emerald faltered. “But, Mother says that if we aren’t careful, than the spirits of the forest will--” The Tiger stomped. “Oh, for pity’s sake! Don’t be ridiculous! There’s no such thi-- Look! Did you, or did you not just finish telling me ya’d do whatever I told ya to? D’ye plan to relent already?” Emerald shook her head frantically. “Okay then! One more time. ‘There’s no such thing as monsters.’” “There’s… no such thing as… monsters.” “Again.” “There’s no such thing as monsters.” Emerald’s ears twitched, and she snorted softly. The Tiger ignored it. “Louder!” Emerald stood up as tall as she could. “There’s no such thing as--!!” MAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAACK! Both mares jumped at the inequine howl that filled the air! Emerald landed poorly and nearly fell back, only to be caught by the Tiger. Around the town, dozens of homes lit up. Doors slammed as worried ponies walked out into the night air. Emerald’s ears twitched this way and that. She’d hoped desperately to find the source. MAAAAAAAAARCUUUUUUUUUUUUS! Emerald, the Tiger, and every pony flattened their ears against their skulls, hoping to block out the noise. While not so loud as potentially damage a pony’s hearing, the sound echoed over the hills, making it seem as if multiple voices were joined as one. Deep in the distance, the shadows of a storm raged over the depths of the Crystal Pines. Thanks to recent developments, the ponies of the Empire were no longer at the mercy of the wild storms that plagued the wilderness. Emerald turned to the Tiger. “What was tha-” She stopped. The Tiger’s face had turned hard and flinty. Her muzzle showed every line that’d been hidden before. Her ears were ramrod straight, and fixed towards the forest. Her hooves twisted slightly beneath her, subconsciously shifting her hard-edged shoes into a better place. Yet her body never moved from that battle-ready crouch. MAAAAAAAARCUUUUUUUUUUSSS! Behind them, in the town, worried mares herded their stallions and foals indoors. The cries of terrified colts and fillies could be heard, albeit barely, over the sound of frantic questions and screams. Some mares left their herds behind to gather in the center of town with whatever weapon or tool they could scrounge up. Emerald could see the occasional guardsmare or watch volunteer push their way through the crowd. Some tried desperately to maintain control over the townsponies. Others simply passed through it, their eyes searching for… something. In the mob, some could be seen gathering food and bits into blankets. An offering to appease the angry forest spirits. MAAAAAAAARCUUUUUUUUUUUSSS!! Emerald was shaken out of her stupor by the Tiger, who had her hoof on her shoulder. “You wanted to be a guard, well, here’s yer chance.” She pulled out a roll of parchment and a small piece of metal. She grasped it with her hoof and dipped it in a small pot taken from her saddlebags. She pressed the object to the surface of the parchment, and it left a small mark in black ink. The mark of the crown. Emerald couldn’t read what was on the paper. She’d never paid much attention to her father’s lessons. It didn’t matter, though. The Tiger rolled up the scroll and placed it in Emerald’s saddlebags. “Go. Gather the others. Give this to Windy Plains. Tell her to take it to the nearest garrison. Do you understand?” Emerald nodded as another scream shook the world. Tiger frowned. “Repeat what I told ya.” “Gather others. Windy Plains. Garrison. Right?” “Good enough.” The Tiger turned to face the Crystal Pines. Even from here, the sounds of animals shrieking and squealing and howling shattered the once silent night. Peppered in this cacophony was the sound of the storm raging in the distance. Every now and then, the horrible roar would pierce the dark, punctuating the chaos that this night shift had become. “When you’ve delivered the message, gather the others and meet me here. After you’ve delivered the message, not before! Tell everypony to return to their homes. Make it an order if you have to. Now go. GO!” Emerald turned tail and galloped into town to carry off her assignment. She ran with no regards to her own safety, and lost one of her shoes on the way. Most nights she’d be very careful not to lose her shoes. Most nights she’d be afraid of slipping on the icy roads, afraid of breaking a leg. This was not most nights. So she ran, as far and as fast as she could, to do her duty as a guard. She ran, and all the while, the terrible screaming echoed behind her.