There I lived

I woke up that morning, with a feeling of grayness that has been following me around for some time now. As I move out of bed, I scan the room, still the same after all that has transpired, I don't know why I was attached to this room, out of all the others there were around, I've never moved out of this one. It might be the memorials I made in the other rooms, reminders of my past actions.

As I open the door, my steps ring out on the metal floor, echoing down the hallway. The echos travel for a long time, I stand there waiting for it to end. It tells me that I'm alone, in the place built for one hundred, now only housing one. It is dark but I do not fear it, I know I'm the only one in the Landa, all the darkness is just a reminder to work on the wiring inside my home. Home.

I make my way down to the ground level, and besides the main entrance is my brown and black bag, ever faithful to me after all this time, and we have been threw a lot. I pick it up and give it a good look, like I just saw a friend I haven't seen in a long time, and sling it across my back. I have something to pick up today in the nearby town, and as I make it pass the sliding door I take one more look behind me, into the darkness that is my home, with nothing but echos and the sound of wind to keep it for being silent.

As I make my way into the forest, I take a moment to scan the outlook of the woods for my traps, and none have to be reset. Today that is. My scanning for my traps leads my eyes to wander onto my home, a crude ship by some other standards half buried into the forest, with moss and tree helping to hid the red paint scheme of a once space worthy craft.

Down the paths I normally take, my mind wonders, from trying to remember the name of the forest I was in, again, to my first time coming here, to this world. As a repeat of old actions come flooding back to my mind, it is quickly shut off by a familiar voice I have come to notice more and more by the day.

The voice came from a being on the hill in front of me, a spot where the we would normally see each other and start off the day, and end it. She held my gaze with her pink eyes at times whenever I would meet up with her, that her albino skin color, and yellow mane, was always a subject on my mind. I would of never even considered that she was different from the others living here until one pointed it out to me.

As we walked down the path to town, we go about our daily thing. Swapping stories, telling jokes, stuff two friends would normally do, but at times when its her turn to talk, I get lost in her eyes for just a moment, resulting in time seeming to move faster than normal. What felt like five seconds of looking was a hour of walking, and before I knew it we were in the town square.

She had things to do and I waved her off, the street we walk on splitting into two directions, I always go my left as she heads to the right. As I lose sight of her I sadden, but it was temporary, I know it wont be the last time we bump into each other today.

As I made my rounds in the market square, I say hello to the few that I know. The pink one, the purple one, the orange one, the colors go on. There not exactly friends, but there not strangers too, there is only one I really consider a friend.

While I walk away, bag full of food to last the month, information to dwell on, and time used, my thoughts drift to her. I influence myself in my old ways, but never has one held such space and time in my mind as she did. I make a guess on my thoughts of her just as I bump into her again, as in run into her in a full trot. I curse myself for my lack of addition while thinking and moving, I quickly get up and help her pick up her things.

She is not too mad at me, but with what I know about her from our times that “mad” and “joking' are a blurred line with her. With the awkward bump here and there as I pick up the last of her things, we exchange knowledge and story again as we make our way back out of town. As we get to the hill where our day normally ends she stops me with a cough, and inquires me on what is on my mind.

I told her.

I took from my pack a scroll, that I received from contact, that was directed to me. I gave it to her for her knowledge.

I remember her reading it, with stuttered breaths and wide eyes, looking back and forth between me and the wording on the scroll.

With red eyes, she asks if I intend to go along with it.

I told her my answer.

What I received was a hard slap to the face, along with a babble of words, some on reasons why I shouldn’t, and some just words to be said.

Then I remember it as clear as day.

She ran, beeline to the direction of her home, not saying another word to me, just a spot of tears on her face, and shut eyes.

I remember being silent, picking up the scroll and dusting it off, and making my own way home, with a small sense of being empty.

I made it to the front door, the small sense of empty now a threat to my stomach.

I make it to the hallways, the source of empty in my stomach is now all over my body.

I remember walking into my room, and looking into the mirror, with source of empty now pushing to overwhelm my body, I see look into it.

In its reflection I see my own ruffled mane, of a deep dark red, skin of a dark green, and hooves.

Sodding hooves.

In anger and with my races battle-cry, I smash the mirror with all my force, shattered glass bounces harmlessly off my skin, a trait I still retain even after the needed transformation.

I lay under my sheets, with a mixed process of anger and thinking going on in my head. I remember times, reasons, choices.

I wish for nothing but sleep, the day already ruined and choices to be made tomorrow on my mind. My pack drops off the bed and lays upside down on the floor.

The scroll manages to roll out from it, and I hear it. I turn over to see it opened on the floor. My eyes glace over the text again, text that have a whole new meaning now that I accept the whole reasoning of it. As my eyes slowly close, the wording of the scroll play in my head, like a transmission.

Subject: Recruitment

By the eighth day of this summer, the Royal Sisters have decree that citizen “Dakka” be recruited into the home-guard on reasons of experience on the subject of combat. Reasoning and diplomacy have gone to a all time low with the Dog nations of the desert, and now splinter factions are now causing worry along the border, with one group being very aggressive on its “raids” on outpost established. The Royal Sisters want the problem finished with before it can become a threat to any nearby towns.

Advisement as followed:

-To oversee a group being trained and set out for this purpose, Citizen “Dakka” will be at the head of this group to assure success.

-To Provide experience to the home-guard group so they may spread the training to others.

Citizen “Dakka” will be able to return to civilian life once the situation is dealt with.

You answer is to be expected a week from now.

From, “Head of Guarding Office” Bronze Gallop

P.S. We need you, Please consider it /Luna

P.S.S. I still remember our talks from long ago, Please, as a friend, help us /Celestia

In my dreams there is only one thing, her face, her crying face. It saddens m- no, it strikes me deeply, I remember all the times we have had, and they do little when I see her crying face.

I'm sorry...

But I need to do this.

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