Dawn's Candor

by Clarke Otterton

Chapter 16

A steady stream of sweat soaked Dawn’s forelock before dripping down into her eyes. She blinked one eye at a time to clear them, but the effort did little to alleviate the stinging. She wanted desperately to bring a hoof up to rub all the salty residue off of her face, as she imagined the other thousand ponies around her did. But such a wish was hopeless while the ponies remained locked at the formal position of parade rest.

The ponies had already been in formation for an hour, melting away on the grassy Canterlot parade ground as they awaited the review of the princesses. As much as Dawn enjoyed the return of the familiar itch of her red tunic, it was an itch nonetheless, one made almost unbearable by the humid air that boiled upward from the recently saturated ground. Dawn prayed silently that the pegasi would move one of the thunderheads she could see in her peripheral vision to cover the sun whose rays fueled little wisps of steam that rose of the ponies’ backs. The Dragoon Guards, with their dark blue tunics and heavy helmets, had it the worst, but they would also be the first to be dismissed. The Wonderbolts had it best since, per Royal Air Service tradition, their review was being conducted on cool, soft clouds which floated overhead.

Dawn, figuring that it would be a while longer before anything happened, closed her eyes again and locked her knees in an attempt to ease the dull throbbing that bade her to sleep. Despite the opportunity provided by days of travel on ship and train, and even a day in Port Zebae while the ships bunkered coal, sleep eluded her. Paperwork kept her busy, and a few card games with her friends had been a decent distraction but only just so. She accepted them only to deny herself entry into the land of dreams, not that she feared another nightmare, but because she wanted to be ready before she confronted what she knew was waiting there.

“Look lively there, ma’am, they’re ‘bout to start,” Big Mac whispered into the lieutenant’s ear.

Dawn, realizing that her head had drooped, snapped it back upright and opened her eyes. At the front of the parade ground she caught a glimpse of white and blue ponies flying towards them, while much closer Major Bolt strutted into the center. His chest expanded. “Battalion!”

“Company!” Dawn turned her head to the side and echoed the command.

“Atten-SHUN!”

Dawn felt a collective sign of relief as a thousand sets of hooves clacked together, blood once more returning to the stiff limbs of the battalion. On the right, Major Noctilucent commanded her regiment to attention while leading a small detachment to meet the princesses. With a graceful flap of their wings, the alicorns softly touched down.

“Present!” Bolt commanded as soon as he saw a royal hoof contact a blade of grass.

“Present!” Dawn echoed.

“ARMS!”

Dawn brought her saber to her nose in a salute as the rest of the battalion did the same in one, unified motion. A small band played several ruffles and flourishes followed by the national anthem, the lively music carrying across the stifling field. The colors lay limply in the center of the battalion, although the arrival of the princesses seemed to create a small breeze the rustled the heavy silks momentarily.

Princess Celestia, as best Dawn could tell while keeping her eyes caged, seemed to smile as she returned a clumsy salute. Princess Luna, though, kept her face composed and rendered a snappy salute before stepping forward to assume a position in front of the formation. Celestia, noticing the cue a moment too late, followed slightly behind her sister but otherwise in step.

“Order, ARMS!” Bolt did an about face and commanded once more, “officers…” Dawn and the rest of the company officers took six paces forward as the bugles played the accompanying rhythmic call. “Center…” They pivoted to face the center. “MARCH!” The officers came together in a tight line, then with a wink from Dawn for timing, pivoted again to face front. A swish of a tail from the right most officer started the line forward until it halted six paces from Major Bolt, who promptly performed an about face. A moment later the officers from the Dragoon Guards and the captain from the wing battery landed into formation next to the infantry.

Princess Celestia spread her wings and stepped forward, a formal smile adorning her features. “Soldiers,” she spoke in the Royal Canterlot Voice with a tone that was neither forced nor soft, “it is with great happiness that I welcome you back to Equestria and commend you on a successful expedition to protect and defend the little ponies that are so dear to us all. And w-while…” Celestia stumbled.

Luna picked up the speech seamlessly. “And while we are saddened to learn of those who have been called to make the ultimate sacrifice, we can assure you that their legacy will be remembered truly by us and by each of you that carry their memory forward.”

Celestia resumed her part. “By recommendation of my sister, I am awarding each of you a medal of commendation for your service to our nation and the continuance of harmony. Because of you, we are free to lead ourselves forward to a bright and prosperous future.”

The princesses walked down the line of officers, horns glowing as they took the medals from a felt-line case floating beside them and pinned them on the officers’ uniforms. Celestia smiled warmly, softly uttering the words, “By harmony, with this may you defend the magic of our friendship,” while Luna stuck the medal in between the woolen fibers.

Dawn stiffened as the princesses approached her. Her heart beat rapidly, partly from being in the presence of such powerful ponies, but mostly from the aura of intimacy that radiated from Luna as she remembered their previous encounters. Dawn tried her best to stay composed as every bit of her tried to squirm past the uniform and glean every bit of wisdom she longed to know from the princess of the night. Her eyes caught the medal as Luna pinned it on, a polished gemstone in the shape of shield mounted on an Equestrian blue ribbon, before drifting up into the princess’s teal eyes. Luna smile briefly and winked. She then sidestepped with her sister to the next officer. Dawn almost passed out.

A deep breath purged the blackness seeping at the edges of her vision just in time for her to hear the next commands from Major Bolt. “Officers, post! MARCH!” Dawn did a left face and marched a square path back to her position in front of C Company. Seeing the officers back in place, Bolt drew his saber and gave the order, “Make ready!” A thousand rifles came up together, bayonet tipped barrels pointing upward in the sky. “FIRE!”

The volley rang through the parade ground and echoed off the walls of surrounding Canterlot. The artillery on the right fired its own salute, adding a deep bass to the crackle while also reverberating through the ground. The gesture, while a powerful display of respect to the monarchy, seemed odd to Dawn as she had never heard of it being done before. But the princesses seemed to appreciate it, Luna most of all, for although her smile was smaller than Celestia’s, it carried with it a greater sense of pride that was rare for her to express.

As the last bit of sound from the salute died out, the princesses departed while the band broke into a march with a progression of dramatic chords that led into a driving melody. Dawn watched the majestic alicorns fly away and disappear into the clouds while she listened to the music. She recognized it as the march of the Royal Artillery by the second strain before the trio section. She felt a bit of pride stir in her as, with the “Voice of the Guns” blaring through the hot summer air, the parade was dismissed.

“Can I get you anything to drink, miss?” the bartender asked Dawn.

“No thanks, I’m not thirsty,” she replied. She leaned against the bench, the whole table to herself. The whole corner of the tavern to herself, in fact. The space was dimly lit, only a few candles on the tables and in ancient chandeliers hanging from exposed beams providing a flickering, amber light. Dawn slid the candle on her table a few inches to the right to keep melted wax from dripping onto Star’s leather notebook. She took a look at it, her mouth feeling suddenly dry. She motioned for the bartender to bring her a glass; perhaps she was thirsty after all.

Dawn set her bottle of scotch, now nearly empty, on the table next to the glass, but held off on pouring the last bit, choosing instead to look around the tavern. Ponies in red coats, her ponies, were scattered around the place. Most munched on baskets of fried apples and hay chips with mugs of fresh cider to wash the greasy food down. The ponies ate uproariously; it being their first real meal in two weeks, Dawn did not blame them.

The tavern’s band, which had previously consisted of a solo violinist, broke into a song with the addition of Ditty on flute and Crag strumming a guitar. The old pegasus sang as well, his voice carrying with it a rustic yet comforting timbre that let the words float across the tavern to Dawn’s ears. “The hours sad I left a mare, a lingering farewell taking…”

Dawn poured her glass, sipping the burning liquid down to where it warmed her bosom. She concluded after her second sip that the mare who had gifted the drink to her had been right. A sigh escaped her as she remembered Malt, that filly whose home now seemed so far away, a fact reinforced by Crag as he finished the first verse, “…and to my heart in anguish pressed, the filly I left behind me.”

Too many fillies had been left behind, never to return. But far more had returned, and here they were, laughing and singing in the tavern. Dawn allowed their mirth to join the warmth spreading outward from her bosom, a small bit of unfound gaiety that manifested itself in a small, yet true, smile across her muzzle.

In the middle of the tavern, red-coated ponies raised their mugs as Applesnack captivated them with exaggerated tales of his exploits. Big Mac sat next to him, neither confirming nor denying the stories, but simply looking on with the occasional rolling of his eyes. He took a sip of his cider along with the others then yanked the mug away from his lips with a pained grimace. He gave the cider a sniff, stuck out his tongue, then poured the rest of it into Applesnack’s mug as the green stallion was distracted by a reenactment of his fighting technique.

Dawn kept watch on her friends, chuckling at the jokes and singing along with the verses that filled her ears as she finished the rest of her drink. She did not notice the earth pony officer enter the tavern and take a seat next to her.

“They’re quite the mess, ain’t they?” Major Bolt said.

Dawn started then, recognizing her commander, replied, “Yes, sir. But they’re my mess; I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”

A roar of laughter and scraping wood accompanied a group of ponies, led by Applesnack, as they cleared several tables and stacked them in an effort to see who could touch their tail to the ceiling beams.

Bolt watched the scene and chuckled. “Nothing quite like the Equestrian soldier; a rowdy bunch of troublemakers, loners, and lost spirits. Yet put them in a red coat and give ‘em a good officer and they’ll fight like hell.”

Dawn nodded in agreeance as she watched the inevitable toppling of the tower of tables. A massive clatter accompanied the collapse, followed by hearty laughter from the ponies sprawled over the wreckage. “I’m glad to be here, sir,” Dawn admitted.

“And I’m glad to have you, too. Although I hate to be the one to take you away from here.”

“Sir?”

“You’ve been summoned to an audience with the Princesses.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. I just came from delivering the debrief and they specifically requested you,” Bolt affirmed.

“Very well,” Dawn said while pushing herself up from the table. She followed Bolt out of the tavern, pausing at the door to take one last look at her ponies, and her friends. They were lost in their happiness, raising their voices as the band started a new song. Dawn stepped out into the street, the music following her despite the bustle of Canterlot as she walked away.

Hark now the drums beat up o’er there,
For all true soldier gentle-mare,
Then let us list and march, I say,
Over the Hills and far away

Dawn tapped her hoof on the marble floor. The sound echoed deeply throughout the cavernous space, bouncing off walls adorned with stained glass mosaics. All of them portrayed scenes from Equestria’s long history: acts of heroism, bravery, and sacrifice, immortalized in colorful shards through which evening light shined to fall on fresh bushels of lavender that hung in the sconces between the windows. Above Dawn’s bench, the delicate flowers of lavender were tinged by six shades of color from the newest window: purple, pink, orange, blue, yellow, and white.

The doors cracked opened at the end of the hall. An air of laughter accompanied the six ponies who exited. Dawn continued looking down at her hooves, although her ears perked themselves towards the ponies.

“So where do you think we’ll go next, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked quietly.

“I’m sure wherever the princesses send us next will be just as rewarding as the last,” Twilight assured.

“I’ll tell you where we should go next,” Rainbow Dash said. “To get some food.”

“Rainbow Dash, darling, always thinking with your stomach. But I agree, I am positively famished myself,” Rarity chuckled to herself, then stopped as she saw the blue pegasus dash away. “Rainbow, dear, what are you-”

Dawn looked up from her hooves to see what Rarity was referring to, but she was too late. Rainbow Dash tackled her to the floor in a flurry of fur and mane. Dawn’s scabbard bounced on the floor as she tried to wrestle herself free.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight scolded. The pegasus looked towards her for a brief moment, allowing Dawn to gain the advantage and pin the pegasus to the ground. The two let go of each other with a friendly giggle.

“Just having a little fun,” Rainbow Dash defended herself to Twilight. “You girls remember Dawn, right?”

“Ayep,” Applejack said, a sly smirk on her face. “I gotta say, Dashie got you good, Dawn. You were lookin’ stiffer than a door nail and sadder than a lost sheep. What’s on yer mind, sugarcube?”

The candor of Applejack’s observation, as well as her familiarity, caught Dawn by surprise. She fumbled with her thoughts for a moment then replied, “Yes, there is something on my mind.” A frown crossed her face as the brief gaiety of seeing her friend fled from her, reminding her of the friend she would see no longer. “It’s not a story you want to hear, but I appreciate the thought.”

Pinkie Pie materialized next to Dawn, knocking her shako off the bench and placing on her head a party hat that that likewise materialized along with strands of confetti. “Why don’t you come eat with us? We’ll turn that frown upside down,” she said, a wide grin accompanying her hug that tightly squeezed around Dawn’s body.

“Pinkie!” Twilight grabbed the pink pony and pulled her away from the lieutenant. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Ms. Dawn.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Dawn said as she retrieved her shako and tightened the bow for her braids. “It’s good to see all of you. How did things go on the frontier?”

“Very well actually,” Twilight recounted. “Malt sends her regards.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Dawn said, returning the pleasantry. She shifted her eyes to the open door before returning them to Twilight. “How is she doing?”

“She is great, much better now that she has had a chance to rest. To say she was helpful to us would be an understatement.” Twilight followed Dawn’s eyes as they shifted again. “Do you need to be somewhere?”

“I have been requested by the princesses.”

Twilight’s eyes widened along with the beginning of a gasp. “I’m so sorry, please, you don’t want to be late to that. If you’ll excuse us.” Twilight offered an embarrassed smile then shuffled away. She rounded up her friends and walked down the hall. “Now then girls, where are we eating again? I could go for several hayburgers myself.”

Dawn watched them go, then straightened her uniform before approaching the door. Even though it was open, she came to attention and knocked once. A soft yet regal voice beckoned her to enter. Dawn marched straight down the carpet and halted in front of the princesses who were seated on dual thrones, flanked on either side by stained glass murals of the sun and moon.

Bowing, Dawn announced, “Your Majesties, Lieutenant Dawn Glean reports as ordered.” She held her bow as Luna and Celestia passed a glance at each other.

“Stand at ease, lieutenant,” Luna said. “What brings you here this evening, Dawn?”

“I came per your request, as Major Bolt informed me,” Dawn responded, still maintaining a stiff posture of formality. Celestia gave her sister another look with a tilted ear to accompany the expression.

Luna answered her sister with a nod and then, rising from her chair, addressed Dawn, “Of course. Come, walk with us.” Luna’s mane flowed behind her as she led Dawn, and her sister, outside onto the balcony where below them the buildings of Canterlot bathed lazily in warm ochre and cool blue shades of evening. Ponies walked in the streets, faint sounds of clattering hooves and chatting tongues drifting upwards to the balcony. Beyond the rooftops of Canterlot, a river glittered as it flowed through the valley, wrapping around the dark smudges of a town that was surrounded by a patchwork of fields and clusters of trees. Luna paused to look over the land, then with her hoof directed Dawn’s gaze to the town. “That over there is Ponyville. I have a special duty for you to do there.”

Dawn simply nodded her head in reply. Somehow, she already knew what the princess wanted her to do.

“You’ve been reading too much poetry again, sister,” Celestia chided Luna once Lieutenant Dawn had departed. Luna huffed in reply. The last hour’s discussion had mostly centered around poetry, but Luna considered it an hour well spent.

“The words of the poet can often be a reflection of her soul,” Luna said, “expressing what is unreachable by any other direct means. Do you know of something better, sister?”

Celestia smiled. “Of course! Actually getting out there and experiencing those things for yourself, with actual ponies.”

Luna thought for a moment but kept her expression the same as she continued her defense. “I do not doubt that what you say is true sister, but not everypony has the same opportunity to experience those things. Thus, poetry can be a way to reach them even in their darkest isolation. It did during mine.” Luna let her eyes wander toward the horizon.

Celestia watched, a frown drooping her elegant features. Gaining some resolve, she placed a hoof on her sister’s withers. The smile had returned by the time Luna’s head turned to look into her eyes. “Luna, my dear sister, you’re here now and that’s what matters. You know I love you. Us, together, guiding our little ponies, is all I could ever want.”

Luna smiled, actually showing teeth as her lips were drawn back in an expression that reflected all the love of her sister. But as Luna’s face reflected her sister’s joyful smile, it also reflected the slight wrinkle around her eye. Luna broke off, her composure returning to a serious state. “You’re worried, sister.”

Celestia sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s just that I don’t want this to change,” she said, looking out at her kingdom that, as the sun dipped lower in the horizon, was preparing for another night of peaceful slumber safe in their beds.

Luna felt her sister’s longing as well as her fear. She gazed out towards the mountains where the storm clouds that had been growing all day billowed, cluttering the sky as they tried to block out the setting sun. “Trust me, sister, and trust in the ponies who have taken an oath to ensure that this never does change. We’ve already apprehended the zebra ensign in our navy, and the rest of the investigation should unravel what happened in a few weeks. Any word from Caesar Grevyi?”

“Yes. He was upset, which is understandable, but I’ve sent a letter assuring him that it was all a happy miscommunication.”

“Things could get worse. The pirates are still a potent threat, and I doubt the Caesar will allow a repeat of what happened. We need to be ready.”

“Yes, I know,” Celestia said, her horn glowing as she finished the setting of the sun. “But I don’t think our little ponies are ready to know about war. Let them sleep and dream tonight.”

Luna remained silent, her own horn raising the moon to follow the sun as the landscape transitioned from the fading orange of evening to the gray darkness of twilight to the pale blue of night. She did not disagree with her sister. But she also knew, deep down, that Celestia was clinging to a lie, a lie that one day would be exposed by a horrible truth. Luna prayed that day would never come.

The train pulled into the Ponyville station an hour before sunrise. The screech of the train’s brakes cut through the stillness of the early morning where not even the birds were awake yet. Dawn stepped out of her passenger car and onto the platform, the acrid scent of coal filling her nostrils, yet beyond it she could detect the faint aura of lavender, either from the fields next to the train station or a lingering remnant of her time in Canterlot. The air was somewhat dry, fresh even, seeming to promise a day’s respite from the summer storms, but to Dawn it still felt oppressive; she knew the storms would come anyways.

She tugged at her red tunic and, smoothing the plume, placed her shako squarely on her poll. On her back, her saddlebags were light, holding only a letter and a notebook, and yet, they were the heaviest things Dawn had ever carried. In her heart, she longed for peace, to answer that question that tugged so deeply at her.

Mulling over her conversation with Luna, she started to discover the answer as she set down the path that led from the station into Ponyville. A cricket chirped nearby, its steady rasps stirring the creatures that slept in the ferns and bushes, preparing them for the imminent arrival of dawn. A fox, his night of hunting over, crossed the path and returned to his den to sleep until he was needed again. Dawn passed by a field where a flock of sheep grazed, their heads stooped low to the ground as they munched through the soft, dew-speckled grass. A lamb, blinking the sleep out of its eyes and rising up from beside its mother, frolicked around the flock with an energy as young as the morning. It came up to the fence to where Dawn watched, baaing softly as if to say, join us. Dawn smiled pleasantly in return, but kept on walking, her burden driving her to continue to her destination.

A house near the center of town was where she stopped. It was a modest home, built in the same wood-and-stone frame style that characterized towns like Ponyville. A shrubbery lined the fence that surrounded the home, while fresh summer daisies grew in little patches beside the house. The mailbox had been painted recently, with four small stars adorning its side. A repeat of the family symbol was crafted in brass on the front door.

Dawn stiffened, taking a long, deep breath. This was her least favorite part of being an officer. But it had to be done. It was her duty. She straightened her uniform, then came to attention. Her eyes caged forward, she marched one step after another, halting a pace from the door. She knocked twice and waited for the response. Three ponies opened the door: a mother, a father, and a little brother. Dawn acknowledged them. “Mr. and Mrs. Star.” They nodded.

“Mr. and Mrs. Star, Their Majesties the Princesses of Equestria have put faith in me to inform you that your daughter, Cornet Gilt Star, was killed in action while leading Their Majesties’ forces at Fort Pasterndt. Her actions rallied our ponies and enabled the rescue of Equestrian citizens held hostage. Princess Celestia and Luna express their deepest sympathy, as do I, for you and your family.”

Dawn was expecting the worst, yet the family stood there, silent in their acceptance, silent as the tears formed then slowly rolled off their noses and splattered on the welcome mat at their hooves. Dawn had seen the horrible things of war, had felt the very real sting of the bullets, and had witnessed tragedy occur right before her. But this was the worst, this feeling the most real, and the loss of not just any pony, but of this mare named Star, the greatest tragedy.

As Dawn passed over the letter and left the home that was now broken, she realized just who Star had been, and who she was now. She was the pony of life upright. She was the mare whose silent days in harmless joys were spent, whom hopes cannot delude, nor sorrows discontent. She was the mare for whom good thoughts were her surest friends, her wealth a well-spent age, the earth her sober inn, and quiet pilgrimage.

Dawn passed the field of sheep on her way back to the train station. Seeing her, the lamb ambled over to the fence and again repeated its invitation. Except this time, she accepted and joined the lamb in the middle of the field. She sprawled on the grass, feeling its softness through the coarse fibers of her uniform, and allowing the dew to mix with the wetness of her tears. She smiled, and with that smile, cast away the burden so that she felt she could float with the clouds that were slowly turning orange on the horizon with rays of sunlight that peeked behind distant mountains painted in soft hues of lavender.

Another smile graced Dawn’s face, for she now realized what her cutie mark meant, and it filled her with peace. She looked to the horizon. The last star in the sky twinkled brightly before yielding to the approach of the sun, its burning light rising over the mountains to shine in the valley, a light there to lead Equestria into a new day, and through a new dawn.