Alewhine's Gun

by SymphonicSync

The Games Guard Ponies Play

Tiller Draw answered a knock at the door and, after signing a few pages of a shipping manifest, wheeled a rather large package through the door to the modest hovel she shared. The gray mare cracked open the lid and made a quick note of the contents to the sound of marble being laid on marble.

Inside sat a case, a few stands, and a guidebook, just as her housemate had left her a note to be expecting. The unicorn in question currently sat behind her, arranging the pieces of a chessboard.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have done that yourself, a signature isn't spoken.” She called out as she replaced the lid. She met no response as she approached the table. What she did meet were the pair of intense red eyes staring at her. They looked down when she took a seat. “Will you at least let me win this time?” she asked, pressing the button atop a small timer.

A light-colored hoof moved a pawn forward. She could still make out the faint blue stains from the mane dye. The click of the timer switch was her reward for the question.

She recognized the play as one of their more aggressive openings. “Of course not, why did I even ask?”

She positioned a knight to threaten the piece and clicked the timer. Another pawn flanked its fellow in a flash and the timer clicked again. She’d have missed the move with a blink. “Something on your mind, Vigil?”

The white mare continued to stare at the board as the timer ran down.

“I just don’t know what you’d be upset about.” Tiller sassed, waving a hoof in the air for effect before sliding a piece. After pressing the button, she continued, “We were specifically asked by Celestia herself to go on special assignment fresh out of the academy. Not a week on the job with EUP and here we are.”

The thunk of stone striking stone followed by a hollow click marred her statement.

“The first female cadets, top of their class, given priority to replace the next, and need I remind you imminent, openings in the Princesses’ personal guard,” her voice began to rise as she pondered several moves before settling on one, “And what do you do whilst casually meeting the princess off-duty? Chat up a storm and then stab us both right in the back?”

Another move in response, followed by the click of the timer.

“How’d it go again, Vigil? Remind me how you got me roped into all this as well.”

There was silence, broken by the pieces and the timer.

“We were set for a pretty good gig, Vigil. Probably would have caught the eye of a handsome stallion or two, standing up there with one of the Cs.” She swept a bishop across the board, removing the knight that had just claimed one of her pawns. “Or maybe a mare, if that's more your speed.”

Vigil Stance continued to stare at the board.

“Nice pay, decent hours. Nopony asking our names or having to sign fake ones to pick up some blasted instrument.”

Pieces moved.

“I wouldn’t have to swallow a lozenge every night because of some blasted accent. I'm beginning to doubt that was even part of the assignment.”

The timer clicked.

“I wouldn’t put it past a mare like you to go ‘Hey, seal’s broken, might as well toy with Tiller some more’. Well guess what, there's no stopping it now. The whole town has heard me, we’d lose our cover if I stop.”

The mare sat hunched forward, intermittently hovering stained hooves over the board before waiting for Tiller to make a move of her own.

“We've been here a week, Vigil. A week. Do you know what my throat feels like? While you won't say a single word.”

As if to prove her point, the unicorn remained mute.

Tiller grabbed a piece and slid it across the board without looking down. Her eyes remained locked on the horn in front of her. “First few days I thought hey, maybe you're just as surprised as I was that we were being transferred to some hick county. And then I got the letter.”

Another move in response, before the timer was pressed Tiller made her move and slapped the timer with her own hoof.

“The letter, promoting you for your initiative in drafting up this whole farce.” After the switch to her turn, Tiller glanced down and made the first obvious move. “Praising you for your help. Why’d you do it,” she asked, thrusting her queen up the center of the board, “After all this time are you really still that upset, Vigil?”

Vigil’s hooves stayed in place. Instead, a reddish aura swept over one of her vanguard bishops and withdrew it back onto the queen’s space. For the first time in many turns, Tiller Draw processed the state of the board.

She was in checkmate.

The gray mare stood, sweeping her fetlock across the board, and scattered pieces across the room. “Do you really think we're still on duty, Vigil?! Do you think we can call ourselves guardponies out here? Say something already!”

Vigil remained seated as her aura washed over the pieces on the board and carried them back to the table. With an irritated growl, Tiller stomped over to the crate that sat in the corner, throwing off the lid as she picked up the first object she found inside. She turned around and slammed it down on the table as she yelled out “I deserve an answer, Vigil Stance! Or do you still want to play pretend,” Tiller thought back to the fake name she'd signed to the papers earlier, “Vinyl Scratch?!”

For the second time that day, the red eyes met Tiller’s before looking at what now lay on the table. Following their gaze, she saw what she'd slammed onto the chess board and scattered the pieces once more.

It was the bow to a cello.

“Really? You picked our covers off of a pun?”

Tiller looked up to see a smile plastered on Vigil’s face.

She chucked the bow back towards the crate and trotted over to the door. Turning back, a thick, posh British accent filled her throat, matching the aggressively sarcastic tone to her words. “I'm going out for groceries, don’t expect me back til late. Tata!”

Tiller Draw opened the door, crossed the threshold, and slammed it shut with enough force to shake the entire abode.

Vigil Stance sat inside, alone, for a few seconds more. She looked around for the missing pieces before using her magic to retrieve them from her seat.

The board, bathed in red, rearranged itself before she stood and walked over to a peculiar desk cover in lights, buttons, and slider nobs. With one hoof she raised her headphones to cover an ear as the other flipped open an owner's manual and study packet.

Faint, electronic notes met Tiller’s back as she walked away from the house. Her pace quickened. Just up the road, a yellow mare met her and curtsied with their wings. A singsong voice spoke “Um, are you new to the woods?”

Tiller smiled to mask her scowl. She forced the accent to return as she answered “Why yes, I'm Octavia Melody. Pleasure to meet you miss!”

The mare answered something polite and trivial, but the words fell on deaf ears. Tiller thought back on how the tales about the elements of harmony she'd heard in her foalhood. If nothing other than the last account being recorded a millennia go, then this encounter surely disproved their existence.

The element of honesty would smite her for the lies she’d just told.

With a short goodbye, she continued on her way into Ponyville.