Son of a Shield

~{ Chapter II }~

The setup for his new house was one long a tedious. Iron had setup the ‘tuning forks’ around the house so i could get a glimpse at what the house looked like. Oddly enough, it look about the same as he expected it to look. The room was a nice size, the walls were covered in a pattern that resembled wood, and the floor was covered in a beautiful rug, at least I think it looked beautiful.

Iron unpacked the many bits and odds and ends from my travel bag and laied them out over the bed. The one thing that concerned him was sitting right in front of him. His Father’s sword. Or rather, what’s left of it. Some time ago, there was a battle, you’ll never find it in any history book, nor will anyone remember it. In said battle, his Father met his death. His sword was shattered before he died. And his Shield was broken into several different pieces.

The words: “We Fight for the Fallen” we scattered on the various bits of the blade. The Shield’s words were also spread apart. “I Protect the Living” were etched into the crest of the Shield.

Said items were neatly set inside of a Oak box, lined with crimson velvet. And carved upon the box were the words: “From a Loving Father to a Strong Son”.

Iron winced at the memories, the ones of the long summer days, the ones about him and his Father, spending time with his brothers, and adventuring with his best friend.

“Why does life need to be so unforgiving?”

Pushing aside both the memories and the box, Iron moved to the next trinket. A small silver Watch. Inside the four hands ticked by, and on the inner face, a small picture of a Stallion and a young Mare, and in their embrace, a small Unicorn Colt. On the back of the Watch: “The best brother a Brother could ask for” were neatly outlined with gold.

Placing said Watch on his night stand, Iron pulled out his next item. A steel Dagger with the words: “A Swift Death to Our Enemies” were carved into the chrome blade. One the hilt, a single ruby sat, if you were to look into the ruby, you would see a message, one that read: “Hey, bro! I see you still have the Dagger Vera and I gave you, stay safe!”

After placing the Dagger back into it’s respected place, Iron unhooked his pendent which hung around his neck. He held it in front of his face, even the blindest pony in the world could see the flame flickering inside the red stone. And in the flame, resides a soul. One of pure power. The small trinket was given to him by his Mother. As a way of saying: “Remember us, but forget us.” without saying it.

“Ha, looks like it’s just you and me again Trix.” Said Iron as he looked deep into the gem. The flame flickered dimly at the mention of lass companionship.

“Haha, don’t worry, we’ll me some ponies, let’s just hope they like me.” At this the small flame burst to life. What was once no smaller than a tiny candle flame, now burnt like a raging inferno.

“Woah, calm down now. We still need to get this place up and running.” The flame died down to something like you would see burning inside of a soldier ready for war. Small, yet very powerful.

Knock Knock Knock. Sounded the door, the sudden banging awoke Iron from his rest.

“......” He didn’t respond at first. He merely listened.

Knock Knock Knock. The knocking continued.

“......” Even still, he didn’t respond. He wasn’t in any mood for conversation.

Knock Knock Knock. Once again, the knocking came. Only much harder.

“......”

“Iron!! I know you in there!! Get out here!!” Yelled the voice of a mare. She sounded as if she had never yelled before.

“......”

“Please.” That was the last straw, he needed to respond.

“Fine.”

Iron slowly got up from his bed and made his way down to the first floor, a feeling of dread filling him as he walked.

“How did she find me? Who is this? Do I really want to know? I guess I could always run for it.”

Iron cleared away his thoughts and looked up at the locking on his door, he may be in Equestria, but he still lives like an Imperial.

With a heavy sigh, he unlocked the door, and looked at the mare who had awoken him at the hour half past Luna‘s hour. The mare was small, she didn‘t look any bigger than a teenager. But that didn’t surprise Iron, ponies have been getting smaller every year, and he’s been gone for over a thousand.

The mare was a light yellow, cream even. Her mane was a lively pink, it covered part of his face. She vaguely reminded him of his best friend’s sister, always covering her face. Of course she had a scarred eye to cover. Her ‘cutie mark’ was one composed of three Butterflies. Each hand pink wings.

“I-Iron S-Shield?” Asked the pink maned mare.

“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want.” He asked, his tone fully getting across the message that he didn’t want her there.

“M-my name is Fluttershy. And I have something to show you.” With that the mare walked inside, a book clenched in her wing’s embrace. With one glance he could tell what it was. His Family “Bible”