Irene Spice is an intuitive, yet spritely, warrior who strives to do her best for her kingdom. However, she must endure change when the king entrusts her with an apprentice: Peterkin Wallop, a clumsy and annoying young stallion. But there's more to young Wallop that meets the eye. Will the two of these unlikely acquaintances be able to get along on their journies?
Far, far away from the land of Equestria lived the small kingdom of Krion, where magic was more of an object instead of an entity. Very few owned magic and the few that did were considered the lucky ones. And, if they were born with magic, they were holy. Our story begins with an enthusiastic mare named Irene Spice, a white pegasus with light blue patterns on her coat. In high hopes, she aspires to protect the kingdom, along with every pony in it. Or, at least, that's what the kingdom sees...
Irene sat at the barstool like she normally did, the same time every day. She drank some of the beer she ordered, sighing. The bartender was cleaning a mug with a small towel, rinsing it out over the small, cauldron-like sink.
"Hey," he spoke, directing it to Irene, "how would ya feel about goin' somewhere sometime? I know ya like to hunt and shoot stuff so maybe the woods, ya know?"
"Sorry, Boris," Irene chugged the rest of her beer, jumping off her stool as she handed the mug to him, "I'm not in search of a relationship right now. You know that."
He came up from behind her and massaged her shoulders, "Oh, come on Spice," he gently nudged back and forth, "we used to be a thing back in our apprentice days. Why can't we do it again?"
Taking a short breath, she flipped around, grabbed him by the arms, and shoved him to the ground, keeping a hoof on him and a sword above his neck. She placed her sword back into her holder.
"Because I was picked to be a warrior and you weren't. You have time to go around and fuck any mare you'd like, but I actually have a kingdom to protect. I don't have time to be with you or anyone else, for that matter. You understand?"
"Dear, Neptune, okay, fine," He shoved her hoof off of him, getting up off the floor and dusting himself off, "you should stop attackin' people who just wanna help ya."
She rolled her eyes, flipping her wing to him as a goodbye, "I'm heading off to the castle. I have a date with the king in a little under 10 minutes."
"Okay, so ya won't date me, but you'll date royalty?" He shook his head, "do I need to marry a princess or somethin'?"
"Not that kind of date, you hobo," she remarks, flinging the door open, "catch you later."
And, with that, she was flying off to the castle, which was about 500 yards away. Not too far for a pegasus to manage on her own. She could already hear the trumpets sounding for the king's arrival. All the civilians of the kingdom were cheering, clusters of voices mixing in a symphony of harmonious approval. She flew in through the back as to not disrupt the ceremony.
By the time she made it through, there were about ten mares circling around her. Some with measuring tapes and fabrics, others with scissors and combs. The head-mare glared at her.
"You're late," she growled impatiently, tapping her hoof on the ground as a sign of annoyance, "where in the world could you have been that's more important than today?"
Irene sighed, "I woke up late."
The head-mare didn't buy it, "Open your mouth."
"I don't get why I have to-"
"I said open it, goddammit!" Doing as told, Irene opened her mouth. The head-mare sniffed her breath, "You went to that bar this early in the morning?!"
She shrugged as the hairstylists fixed up her mane, "What can I say? I was thirsty."
"And a simple glass of water wouldn't have sufficed?"
"Waters' too tasteless-"
"You're going to get dehydrated-"
"Not if I mix it in with my beer-"
The head-mare grits her teeth, "We can't have you drunk when you go out there, Irene!"
"I'll be fine, so stop worrying your pretty, little ass, okay?" Irene slaps the head-mare's arse as she trots away from her, I've gotta go out there now. Hold down the fort for me, will ya?"
Blushing in sheer anger, the head-mare turns her back to Irene and goes her own direction, marching off towards the castle doors murmuring cuss words under her breath.
Irene walks out onto a large platform outside, hearing roars of agreement and acquiescence, with an occasional boo here and there. She stood behind a red curtain and waited for her name to be called.
Out in the crowd stood over 600 ponies. To the left -- from the stage-point of view -- was the regular civilians. Mothers or fathers holding children, boyfriends with their girlfriends and such. In the middle were the nobles and knights, while in front of them were the warriors and guardians, some old, some young. And, on the right, were the soon-to-be apprentices, or wannabes. These few stallions and mares had just finished training to be considered for an apprenticeship.
Finally, the moment came. "-and, with that, I now present to thee: Warrior Spice!"
Irene then stepped out from behind the curtain in full armor, waving to the crowd of ponies with her wings, grinning as if nothing bad had ever happened that day or the days prior.
The king, from behind his pulpit, gave a half-smile to Spice as she stood beside him. "With great honor, Warrior Spice has defended our small kingdom from the monstrous evils of darkness and Lord Hades, king of death himself-" numerous cheers sounded from the crowd, "-which is why I am gifting this mare with the responsibility of an apprentice."
All the wannabes took one step forward, letting everyone know they were paying attention.
"I am not choosing a wannabe out of random. I am choosing only the best of the best, the one that has shown signs of wisdom, dependability, cautious, and overall superb in his or her's special training," he glances down at the third row or wannabes, "Peterkin Wallop, come up and receive your apprenticeship."
"Say sorry to this young mare," the disciplinary pony states.
"I-I'm sorry," he fidgets with a rock on the ground, "I didn't mean any harm..."
The young mare huffed and puffed angrily, "You picked an entire bundle of my blue Whisps and used the coloring for paints! Without asking beforehand, at that matter!"
"I said I was sorry," he shied away.
"Whatever," she stomped away, obviously upset, "don't do it again!"
The disciplinary mare face-hooved herself, annoyed, "Peterkin Henry Wallop, I don't see why you feel the need to continue on with this painting- this artist garbage you keep on doing. That's for stallions who don't get chosen as a warrior or apprentice for several decades and have nothing better to do with their time!"
"But, ma'am, it's my passion. I can't fight, nor can I focus long enough to even win one. Why in the world would I be chosen as an apprentice, let alone a warrior?"
Sighing, the mare looked down on him, "Listen, Wallop, ponies have the potential to whatever they put their minds to. Sure, you have the potential to paint or whatever, but you also have the potential to become a warrior. That's one of the highest rankings you can get!" Her eyes glistened with pride. "Heck, if only I'd become a warrior, I would've served 'til my very last breath."
Wallop frowned. He didn't have much time left until he was 20: the age of a wannabe. They'd have to go through the toughest and most intense training than any of the other rankings did. It made him wish there was a choice.
"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad!" Smirking, she got up close, "If it makes you feel any better, I actually heard that there's going to be a party down at the royal gardens tonight. A masquerade party. The best of the best are gonna be there, including me. So, I might be able to sneak you in for free. Waddya say?"
"A party?!" he thought, blushing, "With dancing, alcohol, music? Count me in!"
"Well," he looked up and half-grinned, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to go."
"Sweet!" She nudged him with her elbow as she trotted happily away.
A party for the best, huh? It had to be better than the village festivals, right? Wallop had always been a party-loving guy, but kind of ashamed to admit so. He'd always been the quiet, calm one, so he'd preferred to stay that way towards his friends. Then he had a lot more free will to do what he wanted instead of what his friends wanted of him. So this party was a great chance for some free will.
********
At the gate of the gardens, Wallop entered in. It was relatively quiet for a party with the fiercest soldiers around, but still generically loud. Most of them were just talking, either by the concessions table or by the flowers and statues. There were a handful of ponies who were sitting in their lonesome with a mare or two, not with groups and such.
He gulped. Most of the festivals in the village had at least something to keep his mind off of people, but he'd be forced to talk to somebody here. Socialization was not his forte.
As soon as he stepped into these "sacred grounds", nearly everyone took notice of him, murmuring something under their breaths as they continued on about their conversations, but it ultimately made him feel uneasy.
"Alright, Peterkin," he thought, sweating profusely, "Just find a way to escape! I'm sure that Miss. Quantis won't be here anyways-"
"Why, if it isn't Peterkin Henry Wallop!" She was. She scurried over to him, patting him on the back. She was obviously drunk, "I didn't think you'd be here!"
By then, everyone had just assumed it was a guest and went on about their business. Wallop was visibly red underneath his thin coat of fur.
"M-Miss Quantis! Hey- How are you?" He swiftly took his towel and wiped off a bit of sweat, taking some deep breaths.
"I'm fine," she noticed then how wet he was, "Geez, Peterkin, I didn't think you were THIS shy around people."
"It's not-" He buries his head into the towel, "Ugh..." He lifts it back up, "I didn't think there'd be nothing here to do!" He whispered harshly, "The only thing to do here is to talk to people and get drunk."
"Yeah, that's the best thing about parties," She takes a few more sips of her wine, "Ya know, I don't have to watch out for you tonight like a crumby 10-year-old so at least try to enjoy yourself, okay?"
He sighs, flailing the towel around his neck, "Fine. I'll try."
"See?" She pats his head, "You're already doing better!"
She then drunkenly trots off, falling into a stallion's arms seductively as they hurr behind the bushes. Meanwhile, Wallop stands there, unsure of what to do first. He then spots a few muscular knights and heads over to try and talk to them.
"Hello there, kind sirs," he starts off, smiling a bit nervously.
The three of them kind off look at each other in confusion, then back at him. One of them speaks up, "Do we know you?"
He glances around this trio, then clears his throat, "Uhm, not exactly. You see, my name's Peterkin Wallop and I kinda came he-"
"Wait, wait, wait," One of the stallions puts his hoof in the air, "Peterkin Wallop, you say? The troublemaking foal?"
He blushes, looking away with shame, "Yep... That's me..."
They all three exchange glances again, "Ya know what? It was nice meeting you, but we have to go."
And, at that, they all left, leaving Wallop by himself.
"Why did I even agree to come?" He sighs, heading over to a small, stone stool. He coddled the towel in his arms, almost as if it would help his anxiety. Finally, he decided.
"I think I should probably just leave..." He gets up off the stone stool and begins walking towards the gate.
What was the point to go to something that you were just going to get made fun of at? There wasn't. However, right before he could even get close to the gate, a stranger appeared in front of him, around the same age as him, as far as he could tell. She was tall for her age, but her tallness just enhanced her beauty. She had a white mane that faded into blue, whilst her entire coat was a lighter blue, but had a few whiter markings here and there. A pegasus, she was.
He found himself staring in awe at this mare's beauty, so wrapped up in this idea of how someone could be this attractive, that he didn't even realize that she was speaking to him.
"Hey, bird breath, are you even listening to me?!" She was nearly yelling at this point, "What's the matter with you?"
Finally, he snapped out of his trance, "Huh?"
"What's your deal? Why do you keep staring at me like a little creep?!"
"Wow!" He thought, nearly smiling in front of her, "Not only is she beautiful, but stern, too!"
"I-I-I-I-" he struggling for words, as usual, "-I'm not a creep, I just h-had rested on my gaze on you, is all."
She frowned, "For that long?"
"I was thinking, is all."
She squinted, "About what? Hmm?" The realization then kicked in, "Wait a second, who even are you? I've never seen you around the guard before..." She leaned in real close just so to make him nervous.
It worked. "W-Well, you see, I'm not exactly a guard... he..." He began sweating again, blushing underneath the giant masses of fake tears his skin produced, "But I only have a few days left until I'm 20, then I can begin apprentice training."
Her eyes widened, "You're telling me that you're not even an apprentice, yet you're at a paty for those specific people?"
He looked around, hoping to find some sort of explanation in the scenery around him. But couldn't, "Uhm, well, when you put it like that, i-it does sound kind of bad, yeah."
She stared at him with a surprisingly calm gaze, glancing over at a few guards as they nod, then turned back around to him, smiling, "Look, I'm sure you're a really nice guy, however, I think I need to check up on my friends over here, so.... goodbye!"
Furthermore, at that, she left suddenly and completely. But right before Wallop could even catch a glimpse of her, he was escorted away by two guards out of the garden grounds.