Shield and Shadow Part 1: Rise and Fall

by LucidReverie

Chapter 2: The Moon and the Sun

Light.

Spring Mist awoke to the strong light of the afternoon sun pouring into his room through the slats in his window. He groaned at the light, hid from it under his blanket, silently cursing its radiance. At least he only had to endure the sunlight for a few more hours. Mist stretched out his tired muscles and kicked off his blanket. He rolled over and landed on the floor with a hard thump.

“Ow,” he complained.

He picked himself off the ground and tiredly shuffled toward the bathroom for his ‘morning’ shower. After cleaning himself up, he felt measurably better. He made himself presentable and decided to tackle the remainder of the day.

“Okay,” he said to himself, “do I need anything? Nope. Alright, then, I suppose I’ll just wander.”

He grabbed and donned his empty saddlebags and a coin purse just in case.

Spring Mist trotted out of the door to his small house and entered the glaring light outside. Wincing at the brightness, Mist steeled himself and moved down the street. As his eyes adjusted, Mist could see ponies of all types mulling about the streets, talking in groups, heading into and out of little shops and houses, sitting on benches, transporting goods, or most simply, walking, like he was. Mist never enjoyed crowds, but he did feel a sense of belonging whenever there were other ponies around him.

Figuring this may be as good a time as any, he should get some more ink, and maybe a few quills. Mist turned into a small street-side shop called Scrolls Quills and Ink, very specific. Spring Mist visited this shop quite regularly to fill his high demand of writing supplies. Mist entered the shop and was instantly greeted by the powerful smell of ink and paper. He did enjoy that smell.

“Ah! Fine afternoon to you, Ser Mist!” greeted the shopkeeper, an older brown and grey earth pony with a scroll-and-quill cutie mark, “What can I do for you on this fine day?”

“Please, Scrollwrite, just my name,” pleaded Spring Mist, “You know I’m no ser.”

“Aye, that I know, but you are a member of our fine guard and a fine fellow to boot,” retorted Scrollwrite, “and I figure that means you deserve some respect.”

“Thank you, Scrollwrite, but if it’s all the same, not today. Today I am just another pony.”

“Very well, what can I do for you, valued customer?”

Mist chuckled a bit at the old stallion’s stubborn but heartfelt ways. “I am in need of some ink, and perhaps a few quills.”

“Ah, how many jars of ink would you like?”

“Three should do.”

“And quills? Standard goose feather? Or would you like swan this time?”

“Oh, I think I’ll just keep the goose feathers, thank you. Um, a bundle of twelve, please. And I think that shall be all.”

“Very good. That comes out to a total of twenty bits, or the equivalent in goods.”

Mist reached into his coin purse and counted out the amount in gold bits. He floated the total to Scrollwrite, who collected them and put them in a lockbox behind the counter. “Thank you for your business, as always.”

Spring Mist smiled as he collected up his goods and put them in his bag. “Of course, friend.”

Mist turned to leave.

“Have a fine day!” Scrollwrite called to him.

“And you,” came Mist’s response as he walked into the street.

Mist decided to count up what money he had left in his coin purse. He sauntered over to a bench and took a seat. He pulled out his purse and levitated out the coins. Quickly counting, he found he had enough to buy a few things if he needed or wanted, and some for a small meal. He stomach began to growl, and he decided that meal should be his next destination. He put away his bits and got up from the bench, then moved towards the market square.

The square was not if fact a square, but instead a circle. Mist supposed the ‘square’ was more a turn of phrase. The square was home to the stalls and shops of merchants, bakers, cooks, farmers, and artisans. In middle of the square was a large raised stage. It was here that public announcements and events took place. Every so often, some official from the castle made a declaration or, even more rarely, the Princesses would come into town and deliver a speech. Mostly just Princess Celestia, though. Princess Luna was rarely seen, especially during daylight hours. Occasionally, a travelling band of ponies would take up the spot and perform various feats and showcase their talents before moving on to the next town. The vast majority of the time, the stage was home to the town crier, who announced sales, disease outbreaks (it had only happened once in Spring Mist’s memory though), national news, and various other bits of information throughout the day. Mist had just caught the end of a friendly reminder to stay on the roads when out of town.

Today the square had a few ponies wandering from stall to stall, browsing wares, purchasing goods, talking to friends. Nothing like the unbelievable bustle of a day just after the new harvest, or when a particularly spectacular show was going on. On those days, Mist and the other guards acted in full force, ensured that nopony gets harmed in the swarm. And of course, the days when a Princess addressed the public, ponies were always so eager to get a spot right up close to the stage.

Mist was glad that there were few ponies around, and he moved swiftly across the square. He decided to favor The Salted Clove. The Salted Clove was a small eatery owned by Garlic Clove, a cream colored unicorn with a talent for soups and breads. His wife, Celery Salt, had a talent for salads. The pair alternated spots depending on what the customer had ordered. Their little shop was known for its amazing carrot and poppy soup, and its wonderful garlic breads. Just thinking about the food caused Mist to salivate. He quickly trotted into the building and up to the front counter.

“Fine morning Clove!” greeted Mist.

“Ah! ‘Ello chap. How goes the day?” the chipper Clove replied, hos Trottingham accent ringing through.

“Quite well, thank you,” Mist said, “Looking for a spot of breakfast, how about your famous soup? And a grass biscuit to follow, please.”

“Ah, yes, you and your night watch duties. Keeping you up all manner of unholy hours. How do you manage it, boy?” Clove inquired.

“Heh, well enough I suppose. I don’t mind it so much.”

“It’s a tough job - Total is seven bits – but you do it without so much as a complaint.”

“Well we both know the reason for that Clove,” Mist said as he pulled out his payment.

“Aye. That we do. I remember your story,” He said, taking the bits and storing them away.

“So it’s really no question then as to why I love doing what I do.”

“No, I s’pose not. Still, it’s impressive. Doing a job nopony wants and doing with a smile.”

“Well, I find a way.”

“Mmm. Well, I’ll ‘ave your soup and biscuit ready in a few minutes. Grab a table.”

With that, Clove turned to the kitchen and Celery walked out. The small green earth pony offered a smile to Mist as he took his seat. He smiled back and waited for his meal.

A few minutes later, Clove walked out of the kitchen floating a tray with a bowl of soup and a small grass biscuit on a plate.

“Enjoy the meal, Mist,” Clove said warmly.

“I always do,” Mist replied, eager to enjoy this fine meal.

Spring Mist enjoyed every bit of soup, amazing as always, and followed it with his grass cookie, a sweet treat with a slight bitterness. “One day, you’ll have to tell me how you make that soup of yours!” Mist called to Clove.

“Ha! That’ll be the day, boy. That recipe is secret. Nopony knows it, excepting me and dear Celery. Might pass it on to our children if they take the interest. If not, I may just give it to you,” Clove retorted.

“Well, I’d honored to guard that secret. That is what I do after all.”

“Aye. Few ponies I trust more than you.”

“Aw, you’ll make me blush. Heh, anyway thank you for the wonderful meal. As always.”

“My pleasure, son. Come back anytime.”

“That I will.” That I will.

Mist slowly walked out of The Salted Clove and into the street feeling quite satisfied and contented. He was about a foot out the door when a blue earth pony ran straight into his side.

“Oof. Watch it. What’s your rush?” Mist asked, irritated, his previous contentment now gone.

“Don’t you know? There was an announcement! The Princesses are coming down to speak to everypony!” and with that, the offending pony ran off to join the growing crowd that Mist had failed to notice forming.

Great, a crowd, he thought to himself, both irate and overjoyed, But the Princesses! I wonder what could be so important. Usually we are given fair notice of their arrival. I hope everything is alright.

Comments

[MrBossMan]

"Spring Mist" sounds much more like a mare's name...

I may consider reading this story later. No time now, either way.

[Tronie]

There is one major proble with the story. There's not enough chapters. MOAR

[LucidReverie]

504227 You'll get more, don't worry! Still trying to figure out a release schedule.
Glad you seem to like it!

[Tronie]

Anything with Luna is good. The show never seems to broadcast her much up until the wedding

[LucidReverie]

504472 Yeah, I always hated that. I love Luna. For some reason I really just latched on to her and her story...