His Calling
Hey friends,
Glad to hear things are going well on your side of the mountain, and just as glad to be out of that intensive training. I am not looking forward to spending more days in a classroom; we were told we would be studying psychology, history, war studies and whatnot. Remember the first days of school when everything had to be under guidelines from the Equestrian Education Association? Yeah, I totally miss those days…
Anyways, tell Ocellus I said she’ll be fine. If she can get someone like me to prepare for entrance exams, I doubt she’ll have problems teaching a bunch of students how Starswirl the Bearded greatest wizard in all of Equestria was. I’m sure Silverstream will nail teaching laughter, she had the bouncy optimism for it.
Also, tell Yona she did a great job on the dress. I’ve included a few photos of me in my guard armour, so you can see how fancy I look.
‘Til next time,
Gallus
P.S. Saved anyone from drowning yet, Sandbar?
After checking everything was inside the enclosed envelope, Gallus stuffed it into the post box as Gallus made his way to Captain Westland’s office. It was the middle of the first term, so every cadet was to be given an evaluation to find out where they’re at with the course.
Gallus wasn’t too worried, though the thought of Wind Breaker still lingered in his mind. There was a sense that he was somewhere at the bottom of the platoon, and since he was discharged, it meant any other cadet could be next.
He approached the open doorway of his captain’s office, the sunlight from outside streamed through a window and left a bright patch on the ground. However, before a single talon made its way to the opening, Gallus stopped as he heard Westland speak to another cadet.
“Okay Scythe Rosewood, the good news is that you are meeting expectations in most areas the Academy evaluates cadets on” she detailed in her usual calm manner; clearly, Gallus had arrived a tad earlier than he was supposed to.
She continued, “However, I am not satisfied with one area that we evaluate: communication. Razorwing and I have noticed you tend to struggle with speaking; would you say that is a fair observation?” she asked. Gallus pictured Westland sitting at her desk with her hooves together, concealing her mouth.
Scythe answered, “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was rather soft and quiet, partially muffled behind the wall. Gallus did notice Scythe had speech issues to some degree, when the two were alone in their dorm room he would speak at a clear and normal level, but the moment he was in a group there was a retreat. He would be quiet, fumble with his words, like his nickname, he would mumble.
Then Captain Westland provided her solution. “Well, now that we’re halfway through the first term, I’m expecting you to find an extracurricular subject to take that will encourage you to speak both loud and clear so I can be satisfied.”
“I know you already have plans for when you finish the course and I’m sure you’ll do great things when you get your commission, but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you through the course easily, is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Scythe answered softly, lower as he sounded defeated. “Leave to fall out, Captain?”
“You’re dismissed.”
Upon hearing muffled hoof steps and counting, Gallus’ head shot upright, a feigned attempt at concealing his act of eavesdropping. He avoided eye contact as Scythe emerged from the open doorway, glancing to the side to see the bright blue uptight griffon waiting to go in. At the corner of Gallus’ eye, he caught Scythe taking a long deep breath as he bowed his head and walked past.
After he stepped in full view of the open doorway, he looked at the Captain, sitting behind her desk scribbling away at a sheet of paper on her desk. “Fall in, Captain?” he called out calmly.
“You may fall in.”
Upon command, Gallus marched his way in, stopping a foot from Westland’s desk to give a sharp salute, before easing himself. Westland finished her writing, moving the paper to one side and using the tips of her wings to pick up a new sheet of paper. As it curled from the top, Gallus could catch his name on the paper, even as the text hung upside down.
“Well Gallus, I’m sure things were difficult to start with, but you appear to have adjusted into Academy life,” she opened calmly with a voice one octave higher from earlier. “You have better control of your sense of humour when it’s required to be appropriate, and your performance on Winstone’s Trial and Exercise Self-Reliance shows you are more than capable in high stress and heavy endurance situations.”
Gallus’ face started to glow, from the sounds of it, he was doing great. He just wondered when the negatives would come in.
“From what I have found with the other cadets in First Wing, you are building a good rapport with your platoon. Have you made any attempts to socialise with anypony outside your platoon?”
Then those same corners dropped. It was not that long ago that Gallus had an encounter with the jerk unicorn with the camera. He pictured the smug grin, the sneering blue eyes, and his patronizing tone of voice, if only he got his name or even what platoon or company he was in, he could make a complaint. Whoever he was, that unicorn was not in his company as far as he could tell. “No… ma’am…” he replied, his voice had trailed off as he internally held back his frustrations.
“That’s alright, most cadets stay within their platoon during intensive training,” she remarked, oblivious to blaze engulfing Gallus’ eyes. “Now that we are out of that stretch, this is the week where physical and curricular activities are opened for cadets to sign up to. As a E.U.P. Guard, you are expected to work well with ponies of all kinds, Earth, Unicorn, and Pegasus. These will be the best way to do that as well as gain specialised skills.”
Westland turned to her desk drawer and grabbed a sheet of paper with a map that was laid out in the form of a square grid.
“There will be a bazaar at the gym hall tomorrow so you can see what is on offer. Any questions?”
With a violent shake of his head, he snapped out of his frustrations and returned his attention to Westland. “I don’t think so,” he answered. “Leave to fall out, Captain?”
“You’re dismissed” she acknowledged with a small nod.
After following the protocol, with a right face turn and marching three steps, counting as he does so, Gallus made his own departure out of her office. There was a short breath released as he stood outside the office, relieved that he was not called back like he was on that first day
So then, the task that Gallus received appeared to be to make friends with earth ponies and other unicorns. On the plus side, physical activities meant sports, one of those would break away the mundane classrooms and the rigorous military drills.
Since the meeting was over, he had some free time, and it was as good a time as ever to make sure his armour was polished. He made his way down the corridors to his dorms, but as he got closer, he could hear something coming from the wall nearest to his room.
Ku-per-bi-a… Ke-ple-tes…, Ker-ri… Ci Ka-e-lum…, No… Gry-pho… Cost… Ke-gre-ssus...
Someone was slowly and carefully speaking words, and yet it was nonsense. Whatever was being said was not Ponish, but something about the patterns felt familiar to Gallus like he had heard them before. The emphasis on hard consonants at the beginning of words, its near phonetic spelling, and the way Griffon was pronounced. Gallus wondered, was he hearing Griffish?
That was not the only thing he wondered; he could swear the one speaking was Scythe. That could not be possible; Gallus knew Griffish was only spoken by older griffons, what pony would make the effort to learn it?
He grabbed the handle, casually opened the door, looked inside, and saw Scythe. The pegasus pony was sweeping the floor, unaware of Gallus standing in the doorway. He shook his head, assuming he was just hearing things and went inside the room to check on his armour.
It was the following morning; lunch had finished, and the bazaar had begun. The gymnasium had been reserved for indoor sports and had been transformed into a convention, with rows of tables in and around the for cadets to sign up to different activities.
Some tables had more to show in order to impress the cadets, many had posters as visual aids, some had equipment on display from parachutes to rowboats. Others had ponies kitted up giving demonstrations, the boxing club having an impromptu match in the middle of the bazaar. It was not just sports and physical stuff, there were also tables for drama, fishing, and engineering.
For Gallus, it was a lot to take in. “I don’t remember the School of Friendship offering half as much as this,” he remarked as he scanned the room. His fellow comrades had different reactions.
Pound Sterling was giddy like a filly in a toy shop. “Well, ah already getten mah sights set on wot ah want!” she exclaimed, she dashed to check out one specific “toy” that involved bows, arrows, and giant red targets.
Lightning Dust in contrast had a blasé view of the event, “I’m gonna see which one has the most flying in it”. Without a word, she started moving in the same direction as Sterling, looking across the tables.
“So, I must choose something, right?” asked Gallus, as he tried to figure out where to start looking. That was when Nicknames and Scythe appeared beside him.
“Yep,” Nicknames bluntly confirmed, before leaning into Gallus with a sly grin on his face, “at least if you like the Captain breathing down your neck.” The remark gave Gallus a haunting image of a giant Captain Westland peering over him covered in shadows, he shuddered at the thought while Nicknames chuckled off to browse for an activity to sign up to.
“No pressure then…” shakily remarked Gallus.
A jaded Scythe nodded in agreement, reminded of the task that Captain Westland put upon him. “Not a minute to waste either…” Fortunately to help, Scythe had a leaflet held in the tips of his wing that listed all the available activities and even provided a rough “map” of the gymnasium with all the tables numbered so cadets could easily go to the specific activity they wanted.
Peaking over Scythe’s shoulder, Gallus investigates the leaflets for any activities that catches his eye. Gallus wasn’t a very picky griffon, but considering he only had time for one or two activities meant he had to choose something he’d be good at and willing to do, even whilst sleep-deprived of the early morning start.
He could narrow down the ones that he would be ineligible to join, such as ones like magic studies that clearly required you to be a unicorn. Then he could narrow down ones that would be unnecessary for him for having wings, like parachuting. Then he could narrow out ones that were very academic-sounding like languages, physics, and mathematics, he would rather not pile on more homework to go through.
Then one of the listed activities caught his attention, Buckball. It was a pony sport that was played at the School of Friendship, it was popular around the school. Smolder, Ocellus, and Yona, were part of the Buckball Cheerleading Squad, and Gallus even played defence for the senior team before he graduated.
“Think I’m gonna look for the Buckball signups…” he said openly, before beginning to make a move to the specific table.
Amongst the entire crowd of cadets in the gymnasium, Scythe was the only one who heard him, “Oh okay, I’m gonna look for the… thing…” he said, his voice trailing off as his mind continued to focus on the leaflet.
Leaving Scythe on his own, Gallus made his way through the bazaar. As he tried to find the Buckball table, he could browse all the other activities and the cadets signing up to them. However, he also could not help but feel he was being watched. It was not like the look of bewilderment, questioning if they could see him, he had already gotten used to that even at this bazaar. This feeling was over being watched like something was being planned.
That was when Gallus felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned around to see an earth pony whose coat was light grey with a hint of blue, and a short white mane, looking back at him with a calm smile. “Excuze me, are you the griffon?” he asked, he spoke with a nasal tone, yet his words seemed to flow like water.
As he turned around, Gallus eyes rolled near full circumference. “No, you must mistake me for some other griffon.” The earth pony raised an eyebrow, the heavy sarcasm having flown right over him. “Yes,” Gallus followed with a sigh, “my name is Gallus and I’m the griffon”.
The earth pony’s smile widened, and he closed his eyes, “Gallus, my name is Fountain Blue, we have been hearing a rumour amongst the pegasus about you…” This caused Gallus to close his own eyes and pinch the bridge of his beak, groaning at the thought of more rumours about his presence. “Apparently you are very fast at scaling walls, non?”
That is a new one, Gallus thought as he raised his head. Why would a pegasus pony spread rumours about me scaling walls unless somepony from my platoon spoke about what happened at the obstacle course? “I mean, back at Winstone’s Trial, I jumped and climbed over that massive wall at the end…”
Fountain Blue beamed as he began to make a pitch. “Well then, perhaps you consider signing up to the Rockwall and Mountaineering Club?” he wrapped his arm around Gallus’ shoulder and pointed him towards a table with posters depicting pony figures climbing up a jagged vertical surface. Sat behind the table was another grey coated pony with a short black mane, who stared at the two of them with a jaded glare.
“I’m sure a creature with firm legs, strong arms, and claws that have an iron grip would be perfect for such an activité.” He gestured towards Gallus’ physique from top to bottom, clearly trying to butter him up to join. “You would be really good at it, since what is a mountain other than a large naturally forming wall to climb to the top?” As optimistic as Fountain Blue was, Gallus was not convinced. He had already written it off in his mind since it was one of the unnecessary ones.
Granted, that obstacle course did serve as a reminder to avoid being dependent on his large cerulean wings, but Gallus already made up his mind. “Sorry, I can only choose one and I’d rather sign up for the Buckball Team” he pulled the pony’s arm off his shoulder and began his departure from the conversation.
”«Yes, all the ponies want to sign up for that!»"
Fountain Blue muttered to himself in a grievance, his smile faded as he looked back at his colleague who casually rolled his eyes. Still, he was determined and rushed in front of Gallus and held him back with a single hoof resting on his chest. “Ah you are mistaken, signing up is not an obligation to do the same thing for the whole year” He explained, gesticulating with a regained grin. “After you sign up, just turn up on the first day, give it a go. If you are good and you like it, you are part of the club. What do you say?”
The pony’s persistence began to irritate Gallus, unable to make his way past the way Fountain blue both socially and physically blocked him. He let out a harsh breath, “Fine,” he relented, just to get the suspiciously eager pony off his chest. He made his way up to the table, swiped the pencil, and filled out his name, platoon, and company on the board. Without batting an eye, he left the table and the two ponies, Fountain Blue giving a smug grin to his colleague.
Gallus eventually reached the table for the Buckball signups, as well as the long line to each signup sheet. Usually, Buckball had three to six players on a single team, and yet when Gallus eventually got to the front of the table to fill out his name, he skimmed through and counted more than two dozen names. That was just on the sheet Gallus filled in, he could see another sheet off to the side.
He would have wondered how the ponies running the club would be able to manage all the cadets who signed up, but at that point, he did not care. He finally got a physical activity under his wing, no need to worry about Captain Westland for a while. As he reached the exit for the gym, he managed to find the rest of his platoon altogether.
Sterling was the first to recognise him. “Ayup Bluebird!” she called out, waving incessantly. “How’d the signing up go?”
“Signed up for what I want,” Gallus responded with a shrug and grin, “and what I didn’t want,” he uttered under his breath. “How about you?”
“Ya mare’s gonna be a sharpshootah in the archery club!” she answered, beating her bare chest with her hoof.
“And I’ve signed up for aerial athletic tryouts,” Lightning Dust followed boastfully, “it’ll be a breeze to get in for me.”
“I signed up for the Buckball Team,” added Nicknames, “I know it’s really popular, but I’ve got a good shot…”
As much as he tried, Gallus held his grin uncomfortably. “Great…” He was unsure if that meant they could be teammates or rivals when it came to the tryouts. Scythe stood by, silent with his head down and standing further back. “What about you?” asked Gallus with intrigue.
“Oh, I signed up for… cross country, though I couldn’t find what I wanted…” he mumbled, his voice barely reaching the ears of Gallus and the ponies around him.
“Ah well, you can’t always find what you want,” callously remarked Nicknames with a heavy shrug. “As the saying goes, Sest la vee-ay!” Gallus and the ponies around them raised their eyebrows, perplexed by the random words he had uttered.
“It’s c’est la vie.” A sharp voice called out, taking a surprise from the whole group. They all turned to the direction of the voice, which came from the downtrodden Scythe. “Its Prench, such is life…” he reverted to murmuring his words the moment he looked up to see the whole group stare at him with widened eyes.
Then the corner of Nickname’s mouth quirked, “Ah, you suffered through Prench lessons at school too?” he remarked with a hard pat on the back. Scythe’s head sunk lower, hiding his face like a shadow covered his eyes. “Those were so boring, not that learning it was ever useful, doubt I could be as good as those weirdos who could recite the Guard’s code of honour…” he chuckled before walking off through the exit, with others following behind.
Gallus was the only one who stayed behind with Scythe, he had hoped to ask what the whole Prench thing was about, but before he could ask, a quiet yet clear voice emerged from Scythe before he started dragging his feet across the floor.
“Les soldats ne mentent jamais, tricher ou voler.”
Gallus followed Scythe all the way back to the dorms and could not help but notice his behaviour was odd. His hoofsteps were harder on the ground he walked on and did not bother making eye contact with anything but that hard stone surface. Once he swung open the door to the bedroom, he went straight to his bed in a huff.
The griffon figured that something about what Nicknames said about Prench lessons must have bothered Scythe in some way, how he said they were “boring”, "useless" and how they must have “suffered” through them. There had been some indication that Nicknames and Scythe didn’t get along in the past, but Nicknames sounded blissfully ignorant to the idea that Scythe might have actually liked learning other languages.
Heck, he seemed to learn enough of it to correct Nicknames, and translate the Guard’s code of honour, something Gallus could recall from the entrance exams, “Soldiers never lie, cheat, or steal”.
He also recalled that Scythe would read quite often, and so peeked at the row of books lined up on his desk, like it was a single shelf in a library. He scanned the titles, all of them had odd sounding titles that he could hardly understand, but one blue book with gold printed text on its spine sounded familiar to what he had heard moments ago.
“Hey, that’s a Prench book, right?” He tilted his head sideways and squinted, as he tried to read the title from the book’s spine. “Le pe-tit sol-dat?” he fumbled badly at the pronunciation.
“Yeah, Le Petit Soldat, The Little Soldier.” Although Scythe did not move from his bed or look at what Gallus was pointing to, he was able to pronounce it succinctly.
Gallus moved on to the next book, hoping it would be easier as it appeared to be a single word. “Is that one Prench too? Ee-sen-huff?”
“No, Eisenhuf is Germane. It means Iron Hoof.”
The next book Gallus spotted had a lot more words, “Uh… what language is this one?” He did not bother trying to recite it.
Scythe turned around to see Gallus sheepishly grinning, holding a red book with gold text above the golden engraving of a wolf. “Bitalian, Racconti dei Lupi de Legno, Tales of the Timberwolves.” The sight finally got Scythe to smile again.
He looked at the front of the book, the wolf engraving should have been a good hint of the title. He opened it up and skimmed through the pages, none of the words made any sense to him. In fact, most of the books did not make any sense to him, their titles all in languages other than the one he knew. That made it more surprising considering he’d seen Scythe look through these pages.
“You know how to read all these?” Gallus asked with curious intrigue.
Scythe’s face reverted to the perturbed glare, “You think it is stupid, right?” he seemed to anticipate such a thought.
“No, it is impressive.” Gallus hit back, causing a dumbfounded Scythe to sit upright and stared at Gallus perplexed. The griffon made his way to his own desk and pointed at his graduation photo to explain, the tip of his index claw tapped the bright cyan changeling with a diploma in hoof, donning a black gown and an orange arm pulling her upward and inward towards its dragon owner. “One of my friends, Ocellus, is a huge bookbug, she would be jealous of the kind of books you can read.”
His talon then travelled to the other side of the photo towards a large, brown-furred yak, hugging a sea-green pony in her arms like he was a teddy bear. “One of my other friends, Yona, comes from Yakyakistan, Ponish is a second language to her.” His reasoning rattled through Scythe’s head until it made sense, Gallus was already around both the book smart and multilingual, so a polyglot felt a lot more accepting.
The pegasus pony’s eyes had widened at another thought, if Gallus had a friend from Yakyakistan, that would mean one thing. “You have a friend that can speak Yakyaki!” he elated as leant forward from his bed. “I’ve been teaching myself to speak that one for a few months now.”
As he leant back on his desk, Gallus nodded with a smirk, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s not the only language you’ve taught yourself.” He leant further back over the desk and manoeuvred his claw around the back of his wardrobe, after some rummaging, he pulled out a particular Griffonstone antique. “You have read this, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice snapped to deadpan.
It was the plaque that Grandpa Gruff had gifted him, Scythe stared directly at the shield and the wingspread griffon that stood tall at the centre, and his face went pale as recognition filled his face and his head twitched between the shield and Gallus stern frown.
“I-I can explain!” he panicked, desperately pushing his hoofs along the bedsheets, backing up until his wings were pressed against the concrete wall behind him. “I was just tidying up when I found it and- “
“You read it, you know what it means, I heard you…” Gallus moved the shield closer to Scythe so the inscription around it was clear, having recalled what he heard yesterday.
“…I have a book back at home…”
“Do you know what it says?”
Scythe was still mentally pinned against the wall; he wasn’t sure if what he was asked was part of some test. It was true that he looked at the plaque and could read what it said out loud but knowing what it said he could only answer with honesty. “I can make out the glyphs, but without that book… I wouldn’t…” his voice trailed, and his head lowered in guilt as he confessed. “Do you know?”
In disappointment and shame, Gallus’ expression dulled, and he shook his head. “Griffons don’t use it anymore, at least ones that aren’t super old.” He laid the plaque down onto the desk, covering the engraving, he had hoped the inscription could have some meaning as to why he would be given such a thing. Scythe shared his disappointment too, internally he hoped he could learn to speak with a native speaker, which he could almost never find.
“Captain Westland wanted you to take an activity that could improve your communication,” recalled Gallus, “I am guessing when you said you were looking for a thing at the bazaar, you were looking to sign up to the languages course, right?” Scythe nodded slowly; his body huddled, hiding most of his face. “But at the end of the bazaar, you said you could not find what you were looking for, what did you mean by that?”
“They weren’t there…”
Having tilted his head to the side, Gallus slowly shook it in suspicious disbelief. “Okay, that can’t be right…” he remarked.
The pair returned to the gym, it was mid-afternoon, and things were getting quieter. Most of the cadets were gone and the atmosphere had died down as many of the staff ended their big demonstrations and waited for any stragglers still wishing to sign up or for the schedule to end.
Scythe made a direct path towards the table for the Languages course, Gallus followed behind with the bazaar’s map in claw. When they reached the table, Gallus was stunned to find that the Languages table was empty. More than empty in fact, the tables on either side were draped over with a cloth and had sign-up sheets, and a single staff member sat behind to keep an eye and answer questions. This table was naked, worn, and rusted.
Scythe was right, they really weren't there. “Told you…” he said, as Gallus repeatedly switched between the vacant table and the map to confirm it was the right place, remaining in disbelief. “It’s okay,” Scythe followed, expelling a long-defeated sigh, “I’m sure I could sign up for another course…”
Unexpectedly, a determined Gallus makes a short flap towards the table next to him and slams his claws on the surface. “Hey, who usually runs the course on languages, where can we find them?” he asks sharply.
The pony behind the table was a pegasus, in charge of the geography course, he leant back in his seat with his wings spread outward in surprise when Gallus stood over the table glaring towards him with a formidable glare. “Uh… languages?” he quickly glanced at the vacant table next to him, “I think that’s Major Babel, he is head of the Keating-Rogers Company, you can check his office if he is not here?”
The griffon’s face quickly transitioned to a grin as he gave an acknowledging nod. “Thanks,” he replied in an oddly upbeat fashion before he turned back to grab the collar of Scythe’s coveralls and pull him away. “Come on, let us go” he ordered, with poor Scythe unable to maintain his balance as he was being dragged through the gymnasium.
It took a while, but Scythe eventually stopped flailing and flapping his wings excessively as Gallus pulled him through the corridors and up the stairs towards the Keating-Rogers block. The Pegasus could have a moment of relief as Gallus released his tight grip on Scythe’s collar and allow him to be dropped onto the floor with a thud.
“Remind me why we are here?” asked Scythe, as he picked himself up and brushed his hindlegs and flank.
“Because you’re gonna talk to Major Babel about the language course,” answered Gallus, no sense of hesitation and full of confidence as he looked back and poked one of his claws into Scythe’s chest “and ask why you couldn’t sign up for it at the bazaar.”
His heart skipped a beat, Scythe thought Gallus was crazy to think he could just walk into a Major officer’s domain to ask about taking language classes. He tried to find the words that could explain how it would be a bad idea, but contradictions in his mind kept cutting him off.
He then gave up with a sigh, “What’s the point?” he said, bowing his head. “Even if I ask, it’s not like I’ll be on it.”
He felt his head, followed by his upper being pushed up and saw Gallus stare directly mere inches in front of him. “YOU should be able to do something that you want, something YOU like,” he explained firmly, prodding Scythe further with a single claw. “YOU will be better for it, and the one pony who could make that happen is right through that door.”
To distract himself from twinging at the sharp prods made into his chest, the pegasus turned his head to see where Gallus was pointing, directly towards an opening, with a sign posted next to it on the wall, stating that it was the Company Commander’s office. His eyelids drooped, he could envision light glowing out of the doorway to bring him to hope but could also imagine a dark aura filling him with doubt and urging him to go back.
“And why are you trying to help me?” he asked, curious why he was this motivated to do so.
Gallus’ answer was simple. “Because we’re friends, we help each other out, right?”
His eyes widened and glistened, he did not expect to be referred to as a friend, even from Gallus. They shared smiles in agreement, after all, Scythe helped Gallus near the start of the Academy. As such, he rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked around Gallus towards the opening.
As he peeked inside, he saw Major Babel. He was a jade coated unicorn with a finely combed dark mane, the most striking aspect of his appearance was his physique. Male stallions in the guard tended to be either tall, large, or bulky, Major Babel on the other hoof looked like an average-sized pony, would he walk amongst the ponies of Canterlot sans his uniform, he would blend into the crowd.
The Major was scribbling with a long and puffy quill, his sights fixated on the scroll he was writing on. Scythe turned around and rubbed the back of his head, “You know, he looks kind of busy, so I’ll go see him la- “. Before he could finish, Gallus gave him a hard shove on his flank, projecting him forward.
The pegasus stumbled forward until he reached the line between the inside of the office and the outside corridor. He was desperately leaning back as far as he could to return on all fours and avoid falling face-first into the office. That was when Major Babel looked up and saw the pegasus pony’s balancing act.
“Can I help you?” he asked, before raising an eyebrow. “You’re not one of my cadets…”
Scythe finally managed to fall back so all his hooves touched the floor, “Uhh… enter to fall in... please?” he hesitantly called.
The Major’s horn glowed as his scroll slid to one side of the desk along with his puffy quill. “…come on in,” the Major responded, calling Scythe in with his hoof, who briskly marched towards the desk. “What do you want?”
Scythe tensed up, his voice trembled, and his legs shook as he tried to get the correct words out. “Uh… I was wondering… I would like… to sign up for… the languages course… but when I was at the bazaar… I couldn’t find where to sign in…”
The Major was quick to stop Scythe and give him his answer, “You won’t be able to sign up for the course, it’s been cancelled.” He put it bluntly. “Lack of interest and low attendance from cadets meant the Academy has cut it out from the curriculum.”
Scythe felt his heart sink, “Oh… that is a shame…” he turned back to the opening and could see Gallus nod at him to continue. “I was interested in the course,” he followed with a more calm and succinct manner.
“Too bad,” the Major candidly retorted, “you’re gonna have to sign up for something else.”
Scythe turned back to the opening once more, he could see Gallus encouraging him to push further, rolling his wrist around in a continuous gesture. “But Major… I want to take the language course… I don’t want to take something else…” he pleaded.
The Major rested his head on his hoof and took a sharp, frustrated breath. “Look, I get where you are coming from, I really do,” he opened empathetically. “So, your captain demands you take an extra subject, they feel you are lacking in a certain area. You have looked through all the possible courses and none of them appealed to you, so you end up scraping the bottom of the barrel and signing up to languages, despite it being viewed as an irrelevant course in the present day because everypony in Equestria speaks fluent Ponish, along with all our neighbouring allies.”
His description was incredibly cynical, and had a sense of projection, as he stared at the nervous pegasus and talked down to him with exaggerated motions.
“As a result, you end up spending two days a week with one or two other layabouts who also scraped the bottom of the barrel for nearly a year, while other ponies wonder why you even bother taking such a boring and useless subject and believe you are wasting your time.”
He finished, and witnessed Scythe lower himself, his shoulders slumped as he stared downwards and rubbed his hoof on his leg. The Major sensed something in his rant that felt a lot closer to home and felt guilty as he sat back down into his seat and continued in a softer voice, looking leftward to reflect.
“However, you might be one of those rare students who does find learning different ways to communicate fascinating, maybe as a creative outreach or because of a deep interest in other cultures. After you graduate, there may be a time of diplomacy where the E.U.P. Guard will find your skills to be of incredible use, you make a good career speaking in other languages, and then go on to teach a new generation of cadets.
If that is the case, then I am sorry, but that is not enough to convince the Academy Board to restart the course anymore.”
Knowing his brutal honesty did not make any reassurance or difference in Scythe’s mood, he looked up to think of any way he could help. “The only other option is that I could arrange private tutoring, but the Board would only approve that if the cadet were very dedicated,” he suggested, with a heavy shrug. “They would have to be willing to learn a complicated language, like Yakyaki.”
The pegasus pony’s eyes expanded, a spark suddenly ignited as his head arose upright and he looked firmly towards the Major. “«Scythe learn to speak Yakyaki»” Major Babel looked flummoxed, shaking his head in disbelief. He swore he could hear Yakyaki, not an entirely perfect pronunciation of words, but it had enough detail and form to be understood as such. “«Scythe want to speak like yak and other creatures, will take any classes needed!»” he finished with a firm stomp from his front hoof.
The wheels in Major Babel’s were turning, his horn then glowed as his quill returned with a fresh sheet of paper and leant forward. “«What is pony name, hut, and chief?»” the Major questioned.
Scythe suddenly felt a hint of giddiness, he could hear the Major speak in Yakyaki, clear and concise words that he could understand. He felt an urge to thrust his hoof upwards towards his head in a salute with his chest outward. “Scythe Ma…!” he suddenly stopped and composed himself, he returned his hoof to the ground, cleared his throat, and calmly corrected himself. “Rosewood, Scythe Rosewood. Larson Company First Wings, under Captain Westland, sir.”
The quill scribbled down the words the Major heard, and once the quill stopped moving, the edge of Major Babel’s mouth curved upwards. “Leave it with me, once Captain Westland gives you the approval, we can start lessons in this office, understood?”
Scythe was in shock, his eyes stretched out to their breadth and his jaw hung open. “Y-yes, sir.” He responded, his effort to nod failing by his uncontrollable shake. “Leave and fallout?”
“You may leave.”
Scythe suddenly felt incapable of speech, which made things silent as he faced right and marched himself out, mouthing the numbers he was meant to call out. His face remained frozen as he made his way out into the corridor.
Once outside, he turned to find Gallus, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his smirk, lowered glance, and raised eyes giving the message of “I told you so” but to Scythe that did not matter. He felt his voice return to him in full force, and all he could do is scream in elation and pull the griffon into a tight hug, he was going to be learning languages from a tutor more skilled than he is.
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i knew there was more to Scythe than first appeared
Well it looks like everybody is going to do a activities what's that sounds pretty nice but it looks like Scythe is having problem being all anti social and he needs to work on it but it looks like gallus really wanted to help him but first he was going to sign up for buckball but I still want to know what is up with those guys who wanted to sign up for wall climbing but then suddenly a little discovery of Scythe he wanted to speak in different language which that's pretty interesting to do but apparently he could have because lack of interest because most of the creatures can speak English or whatever but he still wants to learn it with a little push from Gallus he finally got what he wanted to do it's pretty nice to see these two get along as friends it's sweet I like that I wonder what's going to happen next I guess we'll find out next time
Well then, a few EUP guards could certainly do with a little reminder of that, because I know she says "ponies," but from the way she says it, I know she really means it's not limited to just ponies...
Considering he's a School of Friendship graduate, that shouldn't be that hard for him to do.
No, the real challenge will be the other way around--getting those earth ponies and unicorns to make friends with the griffon.
But as noted, he's already done so with his platoon, so I think once the initial hurdles are passed, it'll definitely be doable.
And now I'm going to be half-expecting her to end up not making the cut for said tryouts. Which does seem a bit callous of me, considering, but...you know, it does seem like the universe is trying to send Lightning a message at this point.
So I actually stopped and took the time to try and translate that all myself (despite not being fluent in French), only to find you give the translation for it anyway just a couple of paragraphs later.
But for the record, I got it pretty close!
He did it for the same reason I tried to translate that French just now--he knew just enough to give it a shot and, eager to try the challenge, curiosity won out.
Yes, of course it is.
But seriously, though, good on Scythe. Gallus is right--he should be able to do something he likes to do...something I think Scythe hasn't always been permitting himself as a option.
i'm really hoping that the being in the royal guard will do LD a lot of good, i'm loving this story so far. keep up the great work