//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Millennia: Beginning // by Thunderblast //------------------------------// "So, let me go over this one more time for clarification, and do excuse my reiteration. Enlisting will provide all types of benefits, including higher pay than the Royal Guard, but, I am required to serve for up to six years?" "That is correct, sir." Here I sat in the Ponyville recruitment office for the Lunar Marine Corps, a branch of the military created under the former name of the Equestrian Marines by the princess of the night herself after her reformation four years ago. Ruling alongside her elder sister once more, she legally took the helm of the armed forces’ latter branches and brought along change. A change for the better. No less than an hour was spent at the recruiter’s desk, discussing every minor detail there was to learn about enlistment. I had even made sure to write questions down on a piece of paper so as to not forget them and, as suggested in advice from a friend, try and stump him a bit. Evidently these recruiters are known to exaggerate some aspects. The option of enlisting in the Royal Guard was out there, too, though it stood out as a bit sketchy for me, and too... medieval, old fashioned. I had heard some things about this branch of the military, and how far more modernized it was compared to other branches. That piqued my interest the most, going back to when my father served. Admittedly, deciding whether or not to dive straight into enlisting was something that took me the prior few months to decide on thoroughly and, after settling on it at last and some research into locating the nearest office, here I was. My friend, the one who managed to talk me into doing this to be more precise, had given me a short written quiz to test my knowledge on the military, with a few random math equations mixed in between to throw me off. Though it wasn’t my greatest subject in school, the questions weren’t all too difficult. My stomach quivered anxiously and felt as if butterflies floated about inside, twisting into many tight knots while at it. I had not bagged myself an actual job just yet, even though I made a promise to myself that I soon would, and there I sat with the enlistment paperwork right in front of me. I knew a second, longer test would be in my future should I sign these forms, known to some as the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. Apart from its name, I knew nothing about what it was, or what it contained. The neatly-uniformed stallion seated on the opposite side of his desk stared right back, the calm, collected expression he donned held steady. The clothes he wore were of matching camouflage. Darker colors, too. The camo pattern was digital and included multiple alternating shades of grey, with bits of greyish-tan mixed in between. My guess was a sort of ‘urban’ type of pattern. Below his shoulder displayed three white bars on a dark blue patch, above a crescent moon. Those bars copied onto his eight-pointed cap, minus the moon. He is a sergeant. I worried if my slow thinking was steadily beginning to annoy him, though I could not tell for sure. He looked like the kind of pony that I did not want to be on their bad side for a few solid reasons, beginning with his stoicness. Gulping softly, I steadily lifted a lightly-trembling hoof, taking with the pen in it. With a deep inhale, I filled in the blanks on the papers as neatly as I could. First, my name, followed by my age and gender, in case it wasn't already plenty obvious, concluding with some other information. This went on for a little while longer, and two more pages later. It felt like forever it took me to finish up, but apparently only three minutes had passed, the time it took me to read everything on the papers and write down everything they wanted to know. I set the pen down with a shaky hoof and slid the filled-out work to the stallion. He went through the papers, taking his time, too, which I didn't mind, though it didn't help my anxiety one bit. Rather it worsened, wondering to myself, is this pony judging me?. After he was finished, he filed the papers neatly and put his hooves together, then narrowed his light green eyes on me into a very faint glare, which hit like an arrow and made me want to shrink down and hide, but this wasn't the time. Instead of jumping across the desk and decapitating me, like one part of my mind believed he would, he rose to all fours from his chair and reached a hoof across the desk and halted it halfway over. I also stood up and nervously stretched my hoof to his, shaking it firmly. It was mostly him doing the gesture. "Welcome to the Lunar Marines, Star Shooter," he gave a faint smile. That is a good sign, I think. “I will contact affiliates in Canterlot and share your information. They will handle your processing, and arrange an appointment to take your ASVAB exam at an Entrance Processing Station in Canterlot, as well as begin physicals in preparation for basic training. You should receive a letter in a few days. "Yes, sir," was my response, just narrowly averting a cracking voice. What have I done? No more than a few moments later, I found myself outside of the recruitment center, occupying a one-story storefront in the heart of town. Before now, I never truly had a reason to visit Ponyville, and I could see why the more laid-back migrated here for its peaceful, friendly atmosphere. The air outside today was quite warm, and the sky glowed a beautiful light blue with the bright yellow sun shining high in the sky. It was the definition of a perfect day, and I had all the time in the world to enjoy it. That is, before it is due to set. A gentle breeze brushed through my navy-blue coat and light blue mane, bouncing a little, but not too much to be made messy. The gentle breeze flowed between my feathers, tingling them a little. I wanted so desperately to spread them, but didn't for some strange reason that I could not quite put my hoof on. The day was nice, yes, though I had more important things to be concerned about, such as being home in time for MEPS, study for the ASVAB, and prepare for my eventual trip out east. I’d heard great things about Manehattan and wanted to visit badly, but I never had much of a chance to, or the funds. That is where the joint base was situated, and where my friend has been stationed for years, even before the Navy title gained a word ahead of it. The trip back to Canterlot was rather short, I must have taken the express train by accident. After arriving, I didn't think much of it, and  was greeted into the city by none other than the conductor of the same train, who stood on the platform welcoming everyone else. I made my way through the streets, enjoying the warm summer day while at it. Though, simultaneously, I hated summer for how many ponies it brought out to pack blocks beyond their intended weight. Having to weave through endless crowds had me longing to get back to Ponyville so soon, more so the option to be stationed there if a base were ever to be constructed nearby. At last, I exited the thick crowd, heading into the more-residential sectors of Canterlot and soon coming across my second story apartment, situated above what many would call a cute little flower shop. Climbing the stairs on the side of the building between another, completely separate from the shop below, I pulled out my house key to unlock the door. Twisting the key in the hole, instantly hearing the faint click of the lock opening, I entered, taking in the scent of my apartment, which smelled like sweet orchids. I wonder why? *** After a somewhat unsettling two-day wait, the letter came. In short, it was more of a “congratulations for joining, now come to this location so we can move along with the steps”. Thus, early that morning, I headed out to find the address listed, where early processing is due to begin. I didn’t know what to expect out of this. Though I would likely regret it today, wearing a light zip-up seemed to be most suitable upon stepping outside. Mornings in Canterlot, while in the middle of summer, typically saw chilly temperatures right after sunrise due to the city’s altitude, and sometimes heavy dew left over from mountain moisture. If any vigorous physical activities were on today’s agenda, my choice of clothing will certainly bite back later on. Eventually, I found the place. A two-story office situated on the lower south side of town. Getting there was one thing, and that was simple in itself. Getting inside? Another story. It isn’t like the place is on a normal block. No, it was past a fence, and a heavily-guarded gate. On either side of the entrance stood a pair of gold armor-clad unicorns, stood statue-still with spears in their hooves held vertical. Right here is where I locked up, halted in the middle of the street and staring at these two stallions fearfully without a clue of what to do next. Best option would be to talk to them about why I was here, and why I needed to be allowed inside, but almost all of my body refused. I’d never been a social pony, and having to ask such important questions became more of a chore in my case. But, I could not turn away now. I needed to do this. There were risks of skipping these appointments, and higher ones for dodging boot camp should I be cleared for it. So, I took in a deep breath, let my muscles ease up after exhaling, and strolled up to the guards. “Excuse me, sirs,” I began. This grabbed their silent attention. “Hi, uh, is this the processing station? Lunar Marine Corps?” Both replied with a nod, the one stood on the left spoke up. “You would be correct. Do you have an identification pass?” I blinked. “Wh- no. This is my first time here. I was not given any sort of pass. I do have this, though,” producing the letter and handing it over to the guard, who took it and read quietly. He soon looked up to his companion, nodding, returning the paper. “All right, you may enter,” he responded, horn glowing a faint yellow, encasing the wrought iron-bar gate and swiveling it inward with a creak. I nodded once. “Thank you,” before heading in. Behind me as I passed through, my ear caught one of them mumble the words, “Good luck.” I was certainly going to need it. Almost to my immediate left was the door into the building, taking me into a hall that stretched from one end to the other. I stopped at the first door, looking around, unsure of where to go next. The letter had not stated where exactly to meet these ponies upon reading over for the fourth time. I jumped at somepony whistling, snapping my gaze up and forward to see a uniformed earth pony stood mostly through a door, waving for me to come. Tucking away the folded piece of paper in a pocket, I walked to the stallion. “You must be Star Shooter,” he said with a single tip of his chin, tone and volume neutral. “Good to have you here.” “Great to be here.” I returned the nod, looking around him in the room he stood part way out of, where a few others had gathered. “So, this is where the magic happens?” His brow furrowed at that slightly. “This is where you will be spending the next week and a half, bidaily,” he then gestured his head for me to follow him inside. Once in the room, he closed the door. The few ponies on the floor, all of which donned civilian clothing or none at all, stood up. I joined their side as the Marine moved ahead of us, beside a corner desk. There, he went into explanation of what we would be doing. Activities comprised of workouts to test agility, strength, and flexibility. The first thing to tick off the list was the ASVAB exam—short for Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. That was just for today. In a couple of days we would begin exercises on a field beside the building, shared between the processing station and the Canterlot Palace. Evidently this place handled ponies of all military branches to have recently enlisted. Hell, even the Royal Guard occupied this place. The three Marines each went into explanation about the ASVAB, what to expect, what we should know to look out for in certain questions and answer in most responses, and every other little detail there was to comprehend. They then proceeded to talk about other such physical examinations, such as personal health, meaning a trip to a nurse situated in their own specialized space in this office, and also blood work. That thought alone made me shudder. I could just hope that he or she would be gentle with the needle. Last but not least, swearing in; the end of MEPS. Each of us individually would stand before a Marine, place one hoof on a book and raise our other, and take an oath of service, one that will seal the deal. Around thirty minutes of listening later, we were led to a separate room built much like your average school classroom. It evidently had multiple purposes other than for taking this test according to what was written on the chalkboard before the staff sergeant erased it. Seating ourselves at individual desks, spread apart from each other done to avoid cheating (which I would not, either way put), we were given two pencils, scrap paper, and the test booklet itself. Seeing it brought me back to my final years of high school and the terrible, over-the-top-long tests that shot out of a cannon every week. Thankfully, upon closer inspection of the pages, it seemed to be shorter than previously thought—in exchange for loads of questions per page. Two full days of studying would soon pay off. At least, I could only hope. While a certain criteria existed as a bottom line for those who can and cannot follow through with enlistment, what one scores on a test can also determine their rate—or, to us civilians, duties. If we were to flunk the test, they offered retakes should we still be interested in enlisting after processing concludes. *** Glancing toward the rug at the foot of the door, I noted the mail still had not yet come, even three days later. Instead of going to relax, I knew there was much work to be done. I trotted into my bedroom and opened my closet. It wasn’t the tidiest, but, it could be worse. After a brief search of sorting through some junk, I grabbed a small red backpack, moving on to packing small belongings to keep in my locker at boot camp, if I would even have one. If not, I'd definitely be screwed. I didn't think much of it, and went along with packing a couple of novels, and my laptop. Wait a minute. They don’t allow electronic devices in basic. Why am I even packing this? the voice in my head criticized my thinking. Figuring it would be easier to purchase a ticket at the train station, rather than to go online and go through the hassle of having to venture out somewhere to have it printed off and risk losing it on the way home, which is why I packed my computer in the first place. Excitement began to build within, and with it, twice as much anxiety. I soon started to think to myself, what if I'm nowhere near being fit to be a Marine? It was already evening when I finished packing, and the western sky was beginning to shift to a brighter shade of orange as the sun lowered. I had to admit, sunsets from Canterlot were beyond stunning. Though, being able to afford a bigger apartment—or even a house closer to the western edge where they are more clearer would be nice, though, I was satisfied with what I had. The place I settled in was a pretty decent size in itself. Although, no more than two ponies could live comfortably in it, considering it was a only one-bedroom apartment. It wasn't junky, either. In fact, it seemed rather new, and almost fit in with the flower shop situated a floor below. By the time the sun actually set, my stomach was growling. I stood up off of my couch and made my way into the kitchen. I’d pondered whether I should order out or not earlier, only to remember the food I still had that would need to be taken care of before I leave. Opening the fridge, I mentally said to myself, I'd hate to make myself fat before I go through boot camp. The refrigerator remained predominantly full with many different assortments ranging from raw manticore steak, to vegetables and fruits, and my personal favorite that I had yet to take the time to prepare: seafood. With the choices before me, an immediate decision kept its distance from my mind. I knew for a fact that I couldn't take it all with me—that is, unless I manage to find a new place in Manehattan, which I likely couldn't afford anyway. One other thing that concerned me is just how long I would be gone, likely leading to all of this food going bad as a result. Some word picked up from a friend told me that military training lasts upwards of three months depending on the branch chosen, but can last up to six or seven if one is not faring well. That lifted my spirits a bit knowing I didn't join the Royal Guard instead, remembering a pony who spent around two years in after joining at a younger-than-regulation age. Regardless, it would have been different for me either way, knowing I am in my late teens and legally an adult; a solid two years past the enlistment requirements of seventeen years old. Minutes after staring blankly at everything in my fridge, I gave in to making myself a bowl of shrimp scampi, my absolute favorite out of everything seafood, and quite simple of a dish as well: angel-hair noodles, butter, garlic, and lastly, steamed shrimp. I thought, I'd better enjoy myself a little bit before I start getting used to base food and probably puking it up after tons of intense workouts. Setting out a steel pot and filling it with water, I waited until it reached the point of boiling, opening a box of angel-hair noodles and dumped them in. They stuck out of the pot due to their length, but soon fell limp into soft, edible noodles after some time in the water. In another pan cooked the shrimp, the sweet aroma of them filling my apartment with a mouthwatering scent. More minutes passed, and then both the pasta and the shrimp were done. I mixed both with melted butter and garlic, then mixed it all together into the final piece and bowled myself, then sat down to eat my dinner, enjoying every savory bite of the two mixed dishes. Upon cleaning my plate to the point where I could probably get away with putting it back in a cabinet, it came to my relief to learn not much of what was made remained in the pot. Despite that, however, finishing it was far from the boundaries of possibility. I normally go for seconds, I remarked, mentally. Shrugging it off after a moment, I walked into the kitchen to clean up, starting with the few dishes already in need of washing. Besides, it was better to have everything clean by the time I got back—whenever that may be in the near future. Cleaning didn't take long, as did putting everything where it needed to be. However, it still stumped me on what I would do with the remaining food in the fridge. I pondered again, then remembered the mare living upstairs; she mainly lived on takeout and never truly thought of buying and cooking for herself. It would be the best way to clean out my fridge while helping somepony out in the process. I sat down to think of what I could pack the refrigerated goods in, only to decide on a small portable cooler hardly ever used by me as an option. Standing up, I trotted to the pantry and grabbed it out. It was mostly empty and only had a few canned foods sitting inside, things that I didn't have to worry about expiring—not for a few hundred years, that is. Dragging the cooler into the kitchen and reopening the refrigerator door, I carefully packed everything inside the cooler neatly with some strategy to make sure everything fit tidily, then shut the lid. Better take this upstairs, my inner-voice mumbled, then I made my way to the door. The cooler was light to where resting it over my back wasn’t any hassle, and thus started my way upstairs. The metal stairs we had to reach our apartments obnoxiously emit loud clanks under my hooves which, the closer I came to her door, I hoped the noise wouldn't startle my upstairs neighbor. Arriving at the foot of her door, I set the little red insulated box down beside it and a small hoof-written note to let her know just who it is from. I knocked on the door, then began trotting back to the stairs to walk down. Before I could reach the first step, however, my ear swiveled to the creak of her door opening, and the tan-coated earth pony mare immediately spotted me. "Star Shooter?" she cooed, sounding mildly surprised. Now it was awkward to have been caught in the act. Halting in my tracks, I turned around with a small, friendly smile. "Oh, hey there, Rose." "What is this?" the mare, Rose Shine, turned her attention down at the cooler, then picked the note up in a hoof to read over it. "Just some food. Thought you could use it. Besides, I know how much you eat take out every day," was my answer as I sauntered up to her. "What makes you say that?" she proceeded to question in a slightly awkward manner. "I always see some sort of take out food guy walking to our stairs, and the only thing below me is a flower shop. You need something real to eat," I commented, smile growing. Rose opened the cooler with a hoof, letting off a soft gasp at the sight. "Is this... all of your food?" The amount of items within shocked her. "Maybe..." I responded as vaguely as possible, her query causing my cheeks to heat a little. She closed the lid, fixed on me with a concerned look. "Star, you'll need to eat, too. Please, take all of this back. You need it more than I do." "No, no, I'll be just fine. Reason why is because I’ll going away for a while, so... I figured it would be better to give you everything I had that doesn’t already have my germs on it so I don't come home to a fridge of spoiled food, and maybe a pack of rats in my walls." A giggle came out of her, followed by a smile that curled the auburn-maned mare’s lips. "That's so sweet to think of me like that. Come here, you!" she held a hoof out. I moved up to her and she hugged me tightly. Without making the moment too terribly awkward, I returned the embrace by looping my one hoof around the back of her neck gently, smiling. "So, where are you off to?" Rose asked, drawing back from the hug. "Manehattan. I, er, have business... there. That, I need to... leave for the next couple of months. Rather soon, actually." "Couple of months?" her eyes grew wide with both surprise and confusion. "That's a very long time. I didn’t know you had a job like that, either! What is it for, might I ask?" There was no excuse now. I had to be straightforward with her. "Well, I... It's for the military.” A sharp gasp escaped the mare’s mouth as she was taken aback. "You enlisted?" she said, voice low in an almost whisper. I simply nodded in response. "Oh, dear... That is… wow.” She went silent and gently scraped her hoof along the metal floor, before glancing up with a meek smile. “Well, I hope all goes in your favor." "Thanks." I simpered faintly with a small courteous nod. There was embarrassment deep down for dumbfounding the poor mare over a shopping cart-sized load of food. "I will certainly try my best." "I would have thought you were the kind of pony to go into the Royal Guard or something. But, that's even better!" she smiled big, flicking a curl of her mane out of her eye. "But wait, I thought you said you would never enlist in the military?" "Well, I suppose something made me change my mind. A friend, mostly." Her ears perked up with curiosity across her countenance. "Oh?” "I met him quite a while ago. He is the commanding officer aboard the Eclipse." Rose cocked her head a little in question, growing more curious. "The Eclipse? What's that?" "The New Lunar Republic's largest aircraft carrier." I grinned enthusiastically. "The newest, baddest, and largest ship ever to sail the Antlertic." "Ooooh." Her eyes sparkled with wonder. "That must be quite an honor to have met the captain of a naval ship!" "It is." I smiled proudly. "He is a pretty cool stallion, too. Extremely friendly from my experience. Not something you'd expect really from a sea dog." Rose giggled at that. "Is that what you're going to be, a sea dog?" she joked. "Probably not. I enlisted for the Lunar Marines. The best branch of the military, or so I have heard. Most Marines deploy on ships nowadays since there are no conflicts as of right now." "Oh, even better!" she laughed more. “I remember when they were just the Equestrian Marines. So much must have changed since then!” "Ehehe." I blushed softly, scratching in the back of my mane with a hoof. "Anywho, I should probably get back downstairs. Still have a few things to work on before I head out tomorrow." The smile on Rose’s muzzle faltered into a disappointed frown. "Aw, you're leaving tomorrow?" "Sadly, yes. But, don't worry. Like I said, I'll be back. You know, in a couple of months or so." "But, if it is in Manehattan, doesn't that mean you'll have to move there?" her head lowered. "In time, maybe. This is just for training, I don't exactly know where I'll be stationed." I shrugged. “Only time will tell, I suppose.” "Oh. Well, all right. Thank you, Star," she hugged me tightly a second time. Blushing harder than before, I repaid a gentle hug. Touchy-feely stuff wasn’t exactly my thing, though it was nice from time to time. Just not in awkward situations such as these. "Anytime, Rose." "And be careful, you hear? We've still never had movie-dinner night yet,” she added, prodding a hoof at my chest fur. "Oh, I will. Trust me." I smiled warmly to her. "We have got to have that when I get back." Rose giggled and nuzzled into my neck a little. "Of course." The pink on my cheeks grew brighter and more profuse, and I smiled some more as we pulled back from the embrace. "Well, I'll see you around." "I'll see you later, Star," she winked. A smile was sent her way one final time, then I walked to the steps and down to my door. I paused halfway, still in her line of sight, waving a hoof. She waved back, still with a bright smile on her muzzle. I chuckled, then continued down the metallic steps, my hooves clanking softly on the surface that echoed in the dark and vacant space below the platforms. Afterwards, she went back inside with the cooler full of food carefully dragged along. I went back into my apartment, only to stop once more as my hoof planted onto a single envelope sitting atop my doormat. I froze, gently kicking the door shut with a hind leg, sweeping up the letter and carefully ripping into it. Inside sat a neatly folded, typewritten note. Dropping its paper casing onto the floor, my eyes examined the writing carefully. With each word, my heart beat quicker and harder. Eyes widening, I stared forward blankly, jaw hanging open in shock. It was my letter of acceptance into basic training. More so, I was due to arrive in Manehattan tomorrow morning, along with those other recruits from MEPS. By the time I grew aware of my surroundings and senses once more, the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon. Some faint light remained around the western sky, and the outside temperature had cooled significantly, though not too much. It was perfect, likely the last peaceful evening I would have to myself for a while. I shrugged and trotted around my apartment, opening every window in the place and allowing the soft, cool breeze to blow through. After doing so, I took a deep whiff of the air, scenting of a mixture of every flower's sweet aroma from the shop below, smelling even better and clearer with the windows welcoming the outside air. For the rest of the night, I spent the time watching television, flipping through almost every channel until something interesting could eventually nab my attention and distract me. Later on, glancing at the clock hanging on my wall above and to the left of my television, it read 10:15. I wasn't too terribly tired, though my mind was set on the notion that it would be best to have as much rest before the long trip tomorrow. Off went the television, followed by the lamp in the living room and the kitchen light. The brief journey finally ended in the bedroom, where I crawled in and pulled the blankets over, shifting about to snuggle myself into a comfortable position. Normally, a tower fan set up off to the side intermittently turned side to side, maintaining a steady flow or air circulating about. It remained off tonight, allowing the cool breeze from outside as a refreshing replacement. This night was absolutely perfect in every way imaginable, and it only added to my excitement to serve for the mare who made it possible. *** By early dawn, I rose slowly to the beautiful singing and chirping of morning doves out the window in the small trees that lined the street, adding to the harmony of birds awakening throughout the magnificent capital. Focus shifting to the alarm clock on my nightstand, I'd noted it had not yet gone off, prompting me to lay back down for an extra few minutes. To my disappointment, it wasn't enough, and I was already too wide awake. Instead, I sat up out of bed and pondered the first question of the day to come to mind. Breakfast first, or shower? ... Shower. Remembering I had donated pretty much my entire fridge to Rose, I instead thought it would be easier to eat on the train or something. Besides, hunger hadn’t fully taken over yet. Not typically being a morning pony, most days it wouldn’t become a nuisance until about noon and so breakfast never truly tickled my fancy apart from maybe once or twice a month. Trotting into the door adjacent to my bedroom and walking inside, my apartment’s single bathroom included a small closet on the side where I normally stored fresh folded towels and cleaning products and tools. I opened the door, taking a tan-colored towel and hanging it beside the shower for easy reach once I get out. Shutting the door, I slid the shower curtain just enough to reach in and start the water, accidentally at first starting the faucet down to the tub. After a quick correction, cold water began pouring from the shower faucet. I held a hoof in under the steady flow, feeling the water until it warmed to a comfortable temperature. My preference was borderline scalding hot, enough to burn one’s coat off if sensitive enough. Not quite, though, but it was still decently hot. Stepping inside, hoof after hoof, until the steaming water streamed through my mane, I jumped a little, but soon adjusted to the sudden temperature and shut my eyes as water beat down on my messy blue mane, which quickly drooped over my face. I lifted a hoof, moving my mane out of the way of my crimson eyes. It was then that I actually hoped buzz-cut manes were mandatory in the Lunar Marines. While I enjoyed keeping my mane long, the way it was currently, it would be nice to get a cut once and awhile, or have a change of style. Assuming my shower took about twenty minutes long, just how I liked it, I soon shut off the water and reached for my towel, grabbing it in my hoof and stepping out of the tub, drying my mane and navy-blue coat. Once finished drying myself off, I picked up a comb and weaved it through my mane so it was no longer messy from the towel, but the way I usually keep it. Lastly, picking up my toothbrush and a tube of mint toothpaste, squeezing it and squirting some onto the brush, I briefly ran it under some cold water before setting the tube down. A good minute of brushing later, I spit into the sink and ran the water again to flush it down the drain, then wiped whatever remained along the corners of my mouth with a cold wet cloth. Looking and now smelling completely fresh, I trotted out of my bedroom and walked to the front door, picking up my backpack and throwing it over my shoulder, glancing around the living room and kitchen one last time. "I'll miss this place," I mumbled to myself, sighing softly before opening the door and walking out, locking the door behind me for the last time in a couple of months. Lightly, I patted the knob, then made my way to the stairs, my hooves faintly metallically clicking against each step as I trotted down and onto the street. Starting down the cobble road, I drew in one last breath of the flowers’ sweet scent as they opened up to the warm sun, noting of a very light coating of dew droplets along the vibrantly-colored petals. Even the sidewalk itself was damp slightly, a result of mountain humidity. Only a few roamed the street at this hour, and the flower shop wasn't even open yet. That surprised me a bit, knowing it was way past eight-thirty in the morning. I shrugged it off, trotting into the denser parts of town on my way to the train station, where I hoped the next train to Manehattan was due to arrive soon or was already boarding. Along the jaunt, I stopped briefly at a café and picked up a couple of bagels and a coffee with hazelnut creamer for the ride, or to tide me over if the train hasn’t arrived yet and I grow hungry. Upon coming up to the train station, I trotted to the ticket counter and bought a one way ticket to Manehattan, already forty bits spent. None of the other recruits were there, much to my surprise. Luckily, the train was just pulling into the station once the process was complete, and I was among the first of the narrow few waiting to board to seat myself. I slid my half-packed bag under my seat, then opened the brown paper bag full of my breakfast and bit into one of the bagels, toasted to perfection and complemented with plenty of cream cheese—just how I prefer it. Following a thirty minute boarding process, the doors were shut and the whistle on the locomotive blew loudly, signaling its imminent departure, followed by the jolt of it pulling the passenger cars forward one by one. By then, I was down to just my coffee, which I occasionally sipped while watching as the city disappeared behind me and the train made its way down hill, into dense forest and racing eastward. As the minutes ticked on by, I began to picture where the base was located in my head. I couldn't have imagined it to be directly in the city of Manehattan and rather in one of the surrounding areas, although I could have been wrong. My mental expectations often deceive me when the time comes to see the real thing. Many hours and a transition of time zones later, the train began to slow as it crossed a long, tall suspension bridge with horseshoe-shaped towers over a massive river bustling with small, expensive private schooners, tug boats, and ferries. The reality of what time it actually was had escaped me, though I was for certain that it was somewhere between mid and late afternoon, as noting the sun no longer sat at its peak position in the bright blue sky. On the opposite side of this expansive, busy waterway, countless high rises and skyscrapers of varying height and old and new construction stood proudly, dominating the horizon as far as the eye could see. They shined in the gold of the sun with the glass on each and every one of them reflecting the glow gorgeously, albeit in a moderately-blinding manner if I stared for too long. From the looks of it, I had arrived at last. Manehattan, the city of opportunity. And that is the sole reason for this venture of mine, to kick off a new, promising chapter in my life.