Ramblings of an Unknown Soul

by Quite Quiet

Another day in paradise? (old)

This is the Original version of the fic and have nothing in it that the new one doesn't. Reading this is completely optional as the story restarts completely at this point. If you still want to read it, feel free to now.

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Ramblings

Have you ever felt like you were meant for more? That your life didn’t turn out like you wanted it at all?

I have.

The Canterlot Royal Guard, supposedly the most honorable of positions to serve. The Guards with the highest of standards, to uphold throughout your service. The hardest of Guards to get selected from, thousands of disappointed souls declined every year.

I disagree.

I spent weeks, months and even years to get into this position I am in now and I couldn’t loath it any more. A decade of service under an immortal ruler, guarding Her every move, Her every meal, every sleepless night spent guarding Her room while she slept, every Day court spent standing in place guarding Her while She is taking time to talk to Her subjects. Times where nothing would happen, nopony to stop and nothing to act upon. Times… times we stood guard, intimidating every soul to lay their eyes on us, those times they would stop looking at the ground or on Her soft expression as She spoke to them.

Were we ever of any use to Her?

During all those years, all days, the nights, the meals, the strolls through the Statue Garden, not once did I ever do anything. Never a threat to subdue, never a pony out of order, never a criminal to apprehend. Not once did I do what She had appointed me for. All I did during those days, those lonely days of duty, was to stare. Stare at the walls, stare at the crowds, stare at the petitioners, stare at the table, but most of all stare in the general direction away from Her. A decade and I’ve yet to see Her in Her full glory. Pieces, a wisp of Her mane, a glimpse of Her horn, wings or a leg, but not Her. Ponies say I’m lucky, spending my days with Her, living Her life and protecting Her life with mine.

They don’t know what they’re talking about.

A decade of dedication, a decade of conviction, of loyalty, of trust and yet I haven’t saved Her once. Protecting Her from the great nothing, saving Her from the empty rooms, rescuing Her from the bad weather. Not once did I act upon anything, following orders, doing my duty. Twice She sent us away, and I feared for Her safety, but nothing happened.

Nothing ever happens.

There are no criminals, there are no oppression, no cultists out for Her head and no uproars to silence. There are no challengers to the throne, for no pony could ever compete with Her might, the Supreme ruler, the Bringer of Light and the Immortal Watcher. The benevolent Ruler, always watching, watching Her ponies. The constant in a world of changes, a single stone which all of us throws our hooves at the ground for, as no pony could ever dare to compete with Her. The unobtainable ideal, forever unstained by time itself, expected to stand until the end of time.

I believe She will.

Once a year leaving the castle, deciding on a town, city, village or settlement to journey to. The Summer Sun celebration. Introduced to inspire hope in Her ponies, the captain, and history, explained. Believing She wishes for Her ponies to strive for the best they can be, never thinking of things as impossible. A tribute to Herself, as is Nightmare Night a tribute to Her Sister. Her Sister, the mysterious unknown in the equation of the Royal Sisters, never seen, never heard from but existing all the same.

I fear Her.

Not Her Sister, but Her. She created a celebration of light, believing it to spread inspiration and hope, conviction and determination.

It fills me with fear.

Once a year, leaves the caste to travel, placing the celebration in a different place every year. All for a showcase of Her grace and power. A display of Her raising the Sun in public, reminding ponies of Her power, Her strength, Her unobtainable standing. She shows the world why She rules and the world shies away, forever suppressing its dismay and disagreements with Her.

Nine times.

Nine times I’ve seen Her display, seen Her silhouette against the Sun and sky. Nine times I’ve been under Her spell, the intimidation, the brute force, the grace, and Her unwavering gaze. Nine times to soak in as much fear as possible, bottling it up inside never to show anyone. Keeping up appearances of contempt and resolution, showcasing no fear of Her, Her power or Her influence. Guarding Her with our lives, regardless of fear, for the purpose of calming Her little ponies. Her ponies, not theirs, not ours but Hers. She alone watches over Her ponies, Her family of thousands.

Family.

I can’t remember when I last saw my biological family, but it doesn’t matter. They aren’t my family now. My family, the Guard, expect me to be on duty, or ready for action at all times. On shift? Ready for action. Sleeping? Ready for action. In the infirmary after failing a sparring session? Ready for action. You are always ready for action, there is no option, or the Captain will have a chat with you.

The Captain.

The Captain of the Royal Guard. The highest position to strive for, a position once held by my father until his passing. A position that will never be mine. Served under my father, the Captain, for a while. A relentless soul, never contempt with anything, always wanting more from me, from everyone. Except Her. She was perfect in his eyes, the flawless piece in this broken bowl of shattered dreams. A soul to truly fear.

He never scared me.

I could not fear my father, for all his fear, all his pushing, he still died. She lives, She presses on and She will outlive me, my family, my blood and my country.

The successor.

Our new Captain, not feared, but admired. A true swimmer in a sea of fear filled with drowning ponies. Respected, admired, trusted, loved but never feared. A true Captain. A superior shield caster, the second most powerful unicorn alive, fourth most powerful pony alive. Shield spells shielding all of Canterlot, all of the Caste, and Me. Shielding me of the fear, the nightmares, the pain. Giving me moments alone, moments to think. I stopped being around his shields. I need my fear. My fear keeps me going, shows me what I am protecting, tells me why I stay, proves to me why I can’t leave.

His sister.

The most powerful unicorn alive, and fourth most powerful pony in history. Personal student of Her, the Protégé. Tutored by Her, shown secrets behind our backs, as we stared. Stared, but listened. Hearing Their every word, Their conversations, Their lessons and Their secrets. Secrets never to be revealed, because I, we, the Guard, don’t know them. We hear, we listen, but we don’t remember. Failures had, from Her, and the Protégé, never to be told. Forgotten, like secrets.

Failures.

Three times did it happen, Her life in danger. Three times I, we, the Guard failed. Her Student, proving Her power, Her superiority, Her grace and Her determination. Untrained in the art of combat, trained in mind, soul and skill, superior in battle. Defeated Her corrupted Sister, turned Her greatest enemy to stone, saw through the Deceivers disguise. An unmatched force, a living legend in her own time.

One mare.

One lonely pony, sent on a mission by Her, proved superior to our force. The Guard, beaten by a single mare, with five companions she hadn’t known for a day. Three times She bested us on our own field, with Her tactics, Her knowledge and Her friends.

Six symbols.

The Six, the greatest force in Equestria, five completely normal ponies and Her Student. None of them skilled in combat, none of them trained in strategy. None of it mattered. Our training useless, wasted and unrequired. Six mares, doing what hundreds of I couldn’t, because of fear. The fear, my greatest enemy. I cannot function without fear, my fear is my source of will. Facing foes that defeated Her doesn’t give me fear. I don’t fear them, I fear Her and Her alone. Her foes, regardless of their might, are relatable. She wronged them, and they want revenge. Revenge isn’t fear. Revenge is a reason to cross the fear, but I never revenged Her, for She can’t die. Her life isn’t Her body, Her death isn’t marked by Her last breath.

Her death doesn’t exist.

She lives, and She will keep on living forever. Her during breath leaves when Equestria falls, the Sun burns out, the Moon collapses, the seas evaporated and the land in ruins. Defeating Her body isn’t defeating Her soul, Her defeat isn’t final until the end of Day. When the Day end, I will stop fearing Her, Her power and Her gaze. When the Sun blinks out, I will fear. I will fear as I never feared before, and I will fear everything. Everything will fill me with fear, for it outlived Her.

My life.

I sold the rights to my life when I joined the guard and gave them to Her and the Captain. I follow orders, I obey commands. I do what they say, believing they have a reason. Following Her of fear, and the Captain for his nonexistent fear of Her. I would follow Her Student if She gave me orders too, because I fear Her. Not like I fear Her, but because the Student have Her fear. I fear the Protégé as I fear Her, because Her Student will always be around now. She will die, but She will live on in our souls. She lives on in history, as the twilight who brought the Sun and the Moon together.

History.

My part in history won’t exist. When I die, I die as the Guard, with the Guard and in the Guard. I will live my life for the Guard, Her, Her Student and Her Sister, and I will lay down my life for the same. I spend my days, protecting Her from nothing, and will end my days protecting Her from nothing. Such is the way of the Guard, such has it been, and such will it be. So when I lie down and die, I will die like Guards did before me and like Guards will do after me.

Just another Guard.

Comments

[Quite Quiet]

I wrote something, and it sucks. It read through it a second time, but my editing sucks. So it's probably filled with errors all over the place.

I didn't have any goal with this, it doesn't even tell a story if you ask me. I just rambled on for a while pretending to say something, and then there's words.

I never named anything, but I don't think it matters. In my headcannon, this pony knows no names, not even its own. I won't give it one. In fact I won't even give this soul a gender, race, coat colour, mane colour or anything. This is a blank character, with only the mind to tell you who it is.

I know how I look at it though, but saying that won't give you a chance.

I don't think anyone will like this anyway, it isn't what people want to read mostly.

Oh, then all this first story, be nice yada yada yada stuff. I don't care. Speak your heart out if you hate it, just say why. I did this for no one but me anyway, so you telling me what I did wrong might help me.

Also, First.

[Quite Quiet]

1399332 The only interesting thing is, I can't write at all. I can't make a decent character that acts in a consistent manner throughout a story, I can't write dialogue, I can't even write a basic plot outline. For the record, I didn't read your story either. I just thought about a guard and this came up.

This here was a few hours of me letting my mind fly free and think of pretty much anything. I ended up where my mind took me, and I just put down whatever I thought of. Sure, I limited my thinking to the guards but I could probably do this over and over again with a similar result. From my personal experience, this is the only kind of text I'll ever be able to write, for it leaves so little to the things I can't do to save my life and lets me do the one thing that sets words on paper. Ramble on about nothing.

I agree, it's not a story. It doesn't have a reason for existing. There is no message to get, no moral to learn. I could probably go back and revise parts of it, but I am no author. When I got to the point where the story ended, it ended because I found nothing else to write. The story isn't over, but my thoughts didn't connect any more dots that made lines I could follow. So it ended.

I have the original document saved, so if I ever want to go back and make it a story you'll be the first to know. But for now, I won't.

[Quite Quiet]

1399513 I can agree to one thing, I put the fear in there on purpose. It may have been the one thing I truly meant to put in at first, and everything else just happened to get in there too. But in my mind, protecting an immortal princess capable of raising the sun is meaningless, since nothing they could do would ever help even in numbers.

The fear, on the other hand, is way more abstract for me. I know I wrote it, but imagine standing there time after time watching her do something no one else in the world manages. It's interesting that I want to put it that way, for a reason similar to your own for recognizing something you write about a lot. Fear for me is near non-existent in my life. Sure it is there, but the situations when I fear anything are so far between I can barely relate to it at all. Maybe that's why it seems so interesting to me.

And what I meant with no message or theme, is that when I sat down I had nothing. No plan, no expectations, not anything. Except the fear part about Celestia, there was nothing in this that I had the slightest idea about before starting out. I re-read it earlier, and found several places where I could have put things in a different order, if only for the fact not all of the transitions between subjects aren't perfect.

If I go back and revise it in it's entirety, I still wouldn't put a name on the lead, I know that already. I never wanted a name, and personally giving it a name singles it out as a specific guard, which doesn't make it as general as this is. The revisions would alter, add and perhaps remove some things, but I would never alter the original premise of the unknown.

I'm not saying you have convinced me, but I might go and split up segments that could make their own parts and flesh them out in some way. It would probably take time though, seeing as I have a hard time wrapping my head around what I actually wrote. Some of these things I don't even understand where they came from...

[Quite Quiet]

1400645 I remember that story perfectly. It placed itself a fair bit up on my list of stories, and the best one I have read in a fair while. But you bring up an interesting point nonetheless. For as long as I can remember, my idea behind the story severely differ from that of everyone else. I haven't been told it's wrong, since you can't technically be wrong in how you interpret a story, but it's always been different. I don't know if that's insight, or just that my thought process work different from everyone else. Even in your case was mine different, even though I happened to get to the points where you wanted us to get.

Not saying it's anything bad, it's just an interesting point. Personally I believe those that can write things everyone will understand, they get most of the readers, but those that write the heavy stuff that few actually understands and can relate to (in some manner). Those are the ones you barely see around. I mean no offense when I say this, but the feature box is just one example of many. Mostly (not always) is it the same kind of stories that goes high up in there, comedy, popular crossovers, shipping or sad stories. They are usually written about things people relate to easily, and not abstract things. Not saying this is a bad thing either, it just means some things will be easier for people to get and by that they'll like it. I don't know many who enjoy a story they didn't understand, or got anything from.

Enough about that for now, but as you probably have noticed from our quite lengthy chat I've started to warm up about the idea of getting back to it. Not saying that it will happen, but it just might if I manage to understand my own story enough to flesh it out. Oh and while I remember, this story still haven't passed approval so I can't tell what others think of it yet, except you.

[Godofpie]

Inb4 featured, didn't really do it for me, still amazingly written, I think there was one misspelling of castle? Don't take it personally, just me, fair play writer, another writer I strife to write like .

Edit: Just saying - after reading the comments - I think this is a story, and a damn good one at that. The way I see it is it doesnt feel like a story because it about a pony who isnt really living a life, that's what struck me first, I don't think you need the change it at all. But once again, that's just me.

[Quite Quiet]

1400944 To quote all our favorite King of Chaos: "Make sense? Oh, what fun is there in making sense?". They are usually the kind of stories you would find me reading, since you can often deviate quite a lot from what the original intention of the story was. Even something as short as this can most likely send several different messages depending on the reader even if it barely qualifies as a story as it is now.

But then again I have a pretty good feeling you're right, if I actually get a story out of it, it will be abstract. I honestly don't think I could ever write a "normal" story, with an understandable plot, logical transitions and common themes. Not that those are bad, but they just doesn't fit me. Sure I can read them, probably I'd like some of them, but I couldn't ever write one. But then again there's a difference between abstract stories and just plain weird ones. Your is fairly abstract, but there's still some value for the ones who doesn't enjoy stories like that at all, and then there's this, stories which makes absolutely no sense at all. Then again, that story was written to not make any sense, so there's some special circumstances regarding that.

In any case, the feature box wasn't ever my goal. I am fine with leaving that for others, with stories that fit. Then again, I could probably make something of this, given enough time. As a closing note, and I mean no offense when I say this, but I don't believe I'll read Thrones if I'm not 100% sure I won't revise this. Fairly sure I would get sidetracked by your story then.

1401124 There was actually two, thanks for spotting them.

[dartmaul15]

Reminded me of something i heard in a song once. "Faithfull always they shal remain... Dogs to loose when war is waged". The soldiers image themselves as an item serving, not a human being. Their life does not matter; what matters is their goal. The goal they are expected to sacrifise their lives in order to achieve.

There were no story, except the story of nothing. the story of a soldier's life. The story of an object.

Fantastic work. you earned yourslef 6 of 6 spikes, a green thumb and a star.

(the song i refered to were "The Warrior Song - Hard Corps)

[Clow]

poetry...tru poetry

i truly liked it, a psycological vision of an invisible character

try other character now, like a changeling or a background pony or a wonderbolt

[Quite Quiet]

1404379 I'm glad that you liked it.

For future installments, I'm not sure if I will even do more but if I do the only of those that you mentioned that gave me ideas was Wonderbolts. Probably only because t's similar to this in a way.

[Quite Quiet]

Posted the rewritten version of the story. If you read it previously, I'd love if you tried this version instead but you don't have to.

For everyone who find this afterwards, the old version can still be found here, but I personally think this version is a lot better.

Any feedback is appreciated.

Side question, why can't I save the chapter as one as soon as it exceeds 5750 words? I tried but it doesn't save, which this is in two chapters rather than one like it should have been.