Rocks and Pies, Laughter and Cries

by Grazy Polomare

Chapter 2: Orientation

The wagon travled a good full day over deep gorges and golden fields. Many of the colts on board were silent and kept their heads down. Not that Clyde minded, he never did get along with strangers.

Eventually the wagon came to a mountain range and there, on a small cliff, lay a large, gray stone wall. As the cart made its way up the dusty path to the jet-black gates, Clyde Pie couldn't help but think about his family.

Were they alright? Inkamena had said she was going to try out for the musical at her school. Was it a cello that she said she wanted to play? Clyde couldn't recall it. His daughter had said that if she ever became succesful, she would get a new name for herself, one more regal and stately.

"Why would you wanna change your name darling?" Clyde would ask whenever Inkamena brought the subject up.

"Daaaaad," she would moan with such drama in her voice, "I don't want ponies to think I am "inky". Honestly, you and mother give us the most ridiculous of names. Why, I was talking with Pinkamena and..."

"Darling, your mother and I gave you wonderful names. Anypony who tells you different is envious of you. No matter what, never let them make you into something your'e not. You are who you are and no amount of brain-washing and torture can change that."

For a moment, Inkamena had been silent, before she asked something completely off topic.

"Why do other ponies smile while we don't?"

"Well..." Clyde couldn't bear to tell her the truth. Could he really tell her why? Could he tell her that their family was broke and poor and soon about to go out of business?

"I guess we just haven't found something to smile about since the birth of our three ravishing daughters."

And with that, Inkie gave a giggle and cuddled beside him on the porch swing.

Clyde missed his porch swing already. The last time he had been on it was when he talked to Pinkamena. He would have to figure out how to write a letter not just for her sake but for his. If the next few months would be anything like this, Clyde would need to focus his mind on his family and farm.

The wagon stopped in the middle of what seemed to be a child-built courtyard. As the colts stepped off the wagon, a large, burly stallion in traditional gold armor trotted in. His sepia coat bore the cutie mark of a star shooting across in an arch.

"ATTEN--TION!"

The officer's voice barked with a fierce attitude that sent shivers down the colts and stallions gathered round. Clyde stood there awkwardly around, the rest of his fellow "comrades" standing and shuffling their hooves, some even focusing hard on the lifeless dirt below them.

"I am your commanding officer Shooting Stars, you will adress me as SIR, am I clear?"

"Yes Sir!" came the hollow reply.

The officer took note of the morale and began to talk to his fellow officer in a voice that was barely a whisper. Afterwards, his cold, malignant eyes darted to the group before him.

"It seems that many of you have come against your own wishes, so me and my associates feel that you need some proper orientation as to why you joined the Royal Guard and what is going to be your mission from here on out."

The assembly was herded into a large tent with a device that projected a harsh light onto a squalid piece of canvas.
Suddenly, moving images appeared. Being the rock farmer he was, Clyde was unfamiliar to movies. He had heard about them from his daughters, but never in his life did he ever expect to witness it. The black and white swirled and twisted into familiar objects and symbols.

He could see what looked like colts marching down a dilapidated street, crossbows, spears, and shields nested firmly on bone-white hooves. Then another image flashed to show a smoking town on the edge of the Equestria border. The images were so livid and realistic that Clyde had completely ignored the narration given by Commander Shooting Star. Only after he mentioned "Attack" and "mutilated" then that Clyde arched his head to look at the "noble steed".

"We send in 200 of the Princesses' finest guards to sort things out and for a while, it worked out."

Another picture materialized itself on the canvas. It was a griffin by the looks of it. Its appearance, however, looked...disheveled. Its feathers seemed to be in the process of being plucked, and his beak had dents and cracks. A long, jagged scar ran deep along the griffin's eye. His claw looked clipped and scarred. Numerous scratches littered his face like craters on the moon.

"Then the resistance leader known as Pier La' Talon arrives. He sends in an army of griffins, mules, zebras, ponies, and even a swarm of rogue changelings. We pull out of the east and later on, we hear of threats poised against Equestria. The rebels now want to take back territory and drive hard working ponyfolk like yourselves out."

It seemed so unreal. Griffins, changelings, zebras, mules, ponies, and who knows what else have consolidated themselves into their own army, and now they want to push Equestria out of the equation. Yet, Clyde couldn't understand why?

His hoof tentatively rose over the audience.

"You there in the back!" Shooting Stars pointed towards Clyde.

"Sir, ummmm, why are they fighting us?"

Star seems to glare at Clyde for a good minute before uttering his answer.

"If you had decided to stop day dreaming in the back about Celestia knows what, you would have been granted access to that information. However, since you're only a citizen I will say it again for anypony here who missed the memo. The rebels are fighting because they don't respect the Princess. They believe that the Princess has no real power and, in fact, cannot make the moon and sun rise to their own accord. They are calling her a fraud to ponykind and must be stopped."

There was an uproar of anger and murmuring among the group. Many of the farm ponies had undeniable loyalty to the regal princess. The mere fact that one griffin dared to oppose her was enough to bring rallying cries of vengeance and even...blood.

Clyde was too embarrassed to speak again throughout orientation. As Commander Shooting Stars gave the cluster of recruits a tour of their base, Clyde couldn't help but wonder what his next days would be like with this commander. In a way, he felt a bit of relief. His officer spoke like he knew what he was doing. He was a professional and war was his specialty. Hopefully, he could keep them alive when the battle began.