The Celestial Chronicles - Just Another Day

I should start from the beginning. Not the beginning of the story, but the very beginning. I was born in Kansas in 1996, making me 17 years old. I grew up in an old, rundown apartment with my abusive stepmom, Rachel. My biological mother was sweet as candy, but she died when I was three, leaving my father devastated. I was too young at the time to realize what happened, and my father told me that mom left for awhile. He married Rachel in 2003, when I was seven years old. He didn't marry her for love though, he just needed an escape from this world. Little did he know, she was a heavy drinker and drug abuser, and she hit me when he wasnt around. It started a few months into the marriage. My father had gone insane from depression and anxiety, and was forced into a mental asylum. I won't go into details, but he managed to kill himself with some piano wire located under his bed. This meant that the main source of money was gone, and she was forced to pick up work at a local bar. She would often come home at night, and beat me senseless with anything she could find. Ranging from small things like magazines, and bigger things. Sometimes, when she was drunk enough, she would slam my wrists down on the table and cut them. Not very deep, but enough to draw size able amounts of blood. This went on for many years, which brings us to the present day.

I attend Green Lakes High school, as an 11'th grader, and I'm bullied. A lot. One day, I was in a rush before I left the house. I was always in a hurry, trying to get away from mum. I had grabbed my things and booted myself out of the door. When I arrived at school, I noticed I was receiving wierd glares from the other students. This went on for awhile, before one of my other brony-friends asked me about the scans on my wrists. I looked down and panicked. I had forgotten to wear a sweater this morning, and now my scars were showing.

That was a few months ago, and I am still bullied about it.

People found out about me watching My Little Pony by my own free will. I figured people would find out eventually by my fellow brony friends, so I went with it. I wore a '20% Cooler' t-shirt, even though Rainbow Dash is far from my favorite. Apparently, there were many bronies in my school, so it was taken kindly by most of the students. I made a few friends that way. But I was still bullied for it.

But enough with the background, lets get into the story.

I sighed as I left my final class, biology, got my stuff, and left the school. I walked down the steps with my friend Jared, and we bounded towards the sidewalk.

He looked over to me, "You ready for classes today? I hear Coach Singan is letting us spar again," he said with a smile plastered on his face.

I responded with the same expression, "Yeah, I can't wait to destroy the Red team. Slimy bastards have been bragging all week."

We both took sword fighting lessens at the local martial arts academy. It was located on the top floor of the curved building, about ten stories up. Jared and I have been taking sword lessons for at least three years, and we became very good at it. It came to the the point where we developed a sixth sense. We could literally see the opponents attacks before they came. It was a helpful trick, but a hard one to master. One had to look at the muscles of their opponent and detect which strike would follow. Then deflect the attack and respond with a series of fast attacks, so the opposing fighter could not read the attack.

The rest of the walk was donned in a tense silence. I looked over at Jared, and was going to try and spark a conversation, but I knew better. He was looking a the ground, eyes focused on nothing in particular. This meant that he was thinking of something important, and he shouldn't be disturbed. I shrugged it off, and kept walking. As we continued our walk, I looked around at the familiar sights. We were walking down the main road, which branched off into smaller areas, with multiple varieties of restaurants, inns, shops and smaller things, like schools and parks. But the thing that stood out the most, however, was the Martial Arts Training Center. It was a ten story tall building with the majority of the front side covered in windows. In between the windows were smaller, white blocks of concrete, holding the building together. On top, was a huge sparring arena, for Takewondo, Karate, and swordsmanship.

Martial Arts was the main hobby of our quaint town. The MATC was the min business in the area, and many families entered their children in the program. Although I admired smaller things, like Takewondo and Karate, which I did partake in for a few months, my main passion was swordsmanship. Sometimes I would daydream in class about being a hero in a real war, saving countless life's with my awesome skills. Little did I know then....

My thoughts were interrupted when Jared nudged my shoulder, "Wake up, sleepyheads, we're here!" He said with a chuckle, pushing the door aside. I followed him in, and took in a breath of air. I would be spending the next a three hours here, better get used to it. We made our way to the elevator. A chain was sewn across the middle, holding a small note.

"Damnit," I said, making my way to the stairs, "Elevators broke again. Need to hirer a machanic or some shit,". Jared gave a half hearted life, and trudged up the stairs. I followed him, watching him with content. He was off today. I shrugged it off, excusing it as a simple bad day. I wouldn't want to bore you with my tale of walking ten stories of stairs, so lets skip ahead. Jared and I came through the door, and rested against the wall, panting. It was funny, I was the top swordsman in my class, and stairs had somehow gotten the best of me. We both gathered ourselves and entered our class.

I was hit with a blast of foul air, the scent of human sweat. I took a deep breath, and smiled. You get used to it, between locker rooms and sword classes. Everyone had already started, and were swinging away at rubber dummies, with dull practice swords. Some of the newer recruits were with one of the instructors, practicing basic moves in a combo sequence. I smirked watching the little children with wooden polls. It started like that. You went from nothing, reading books in a classroom, to wooden polls. After that, you moved to plastic one handed broadswords, filled with a little metal, so it gave realistic weight. Upon mastering the basic skills listed above, one would then be granted the pleasure of personal lessons with an instructor, with dummy blades. Dummy blades were real metal blades, but not sharpened the slightest, and the edges and tip had rubber coverings, to avoid any mishaps. After that, it was sparring fellow classmates with dummy blades, without rubber coverings. The blades were not lethal, but still left painful bruises.

Jared and I made our way over to the locker room, exchanging good lucks and a smile, and went our separate ways.

I put the combination into my locker, and opened it, revealing all its glory. I reached in and grabbed my Two Handed Scottish Claymore, and lay it onto the bench. I smiled at it, it was my profession. My passion. My life. I turned back to my locker and donned my body armor. It wasnt necessary, but it looked awesome, and everyone used it. I retrieved my grieves, bracers, and my breastplate. The armor was a creamy white, outlined on the edges in a gold trim. I set the bracers and grieves onto the bench, and looked back onto my chest piece. In the center was Princess Celestias cutie mark. I had it custom painted by Jared's father awhile back. He is a tattoo artist, and apparently he had a few requests similar to mine.

I set the chest plate next to my other armor and turned to my locker. I pulled out a Barbute helmet, which matched my armor perfectly. The Barbute helmet was similar to the one worn by Achilles, but it was bigger and more brutish, in a way. Capable of stopping a blow from even a heavy pole axe.

I set the helmet down onto the bench, and retrieved my grieves. I placed them upon my legs, and strapped the backs in, connecting the armor and fitting it snugly in place. The metal leggings went from just below my shin, to the edge of my waist. Satisfied with my work, I reached over and acquired my breastplate. I slung it over my head, reached back, and connected the back plate to the sides of the chest plate. The back plate was there to protect from swing around attacks, attacks where the enemy jumped to the side and tried for a hit to the back. Though uncommon, it was always safe to be careful. Next, I grabbed my bracers and slipped them neatly on my arms. It protected my arms from my wrists to my shoulders, connecting at the top under my armpits to the breastplate. It also came with a built in glove, making for an easier grip on my weapon, and protecting myself from the elements of nature. After everything was clipped into place, I slipped on my helmet, acquired my Claymore, and headed to the door.

I met Jared at the door, and he gave me a mock bow and a wave of his hand. "Your majesty! An honor to see you today! You always impress me!" He joked turning to the door. "Ha, very funny," I responded, following him. Jared was wearing the EXACT same armor I had, but the colors wee the opposite. The armor was a deep midnight blue, and trimmed on the edges in black. In tribute, to yes, Princess Luna. His breastplate even had her cutie mark, just like mine. The only difference in his appearance was his weapon. Or, weapons, rather. He had managed to convince Coach Singan to give him dual Spathas. Spathas were roman swords similar to the Gladius, but it was a primary slashing sword, and was not fit for thrusting. That gave it a advantage and disadvantage. The disadvantage was that the enemy would know that you could only slash. The advantage, he had two.

If I was strong enough, I would have held my claymore in one hand, and a tower shield in the other. A tower shield is a rectangular plate of metal, about the size of a refrigerator door, engraved on the front with ancient depictions. It also had its pros and cons. It's pro, it could mask your sword, leaving your opponent wondering where you will strike. It's cons, it was heavy, staining the user and limiting mobility. I realized this, and dismissed the idea. I was good enough with a sword alone, so what's the point?

We made our way into the center of the class, were Coach Singan was talking to the other higher level students. "Listen up! Today the Class A students will be sparring on the roof with their weapon of choice. Body armor is allowed, tricks are a necessity, and foul play is expected. You will choose a partner to spar with, and meet each other on the mat," with that, Jared and I looked at each other, and grinned, "You will give your regards, good or bad, and begin. Remember, two hits to the legs and arms, one hit in the torso, head and neck. First individual to reach these requirements is the victor. Please make your way to the roof, and begin when ready." He cloncluded, as he walked over to the stairs. Everyone stood up, and walked over to the stars.

As we walked out onto the roof, I saw something on Jared glisten in the sunlight. I cringed and turned away. It was simply blinding. For what seemed the umpteenth time today, I dismissed his odd behavior. Jared and I made our way over to our usual mat, on the corner of the roof, nearest the edge. We liked it that way, risking it all, while fighting for glory. Oh, how I wish I could fight for real. It was one of my fantasies. That and going to Equestria. I daydreamed a lot, feeling the adrenaline pumping through me, slicing down warriors and claiming the ultimate glory. It was a weird daydream, like I could almost feel it. Sometimes it would even take place in Equestria, fighting changelings or other ponies. It was a weird thing to say at most, but comforting.

Jared and I stood upon the mat. One of the judges clad in red and black made his way over to the mat. "Alright gentleman, you know the rules. No maiming or killing. Pushing and shoving are allowed, as well as kicks and punches. No groin shots, and no throwing blades!" He declared, "Pay your respects". Jared and I shook hands. I looked at his face, preparing to give him my regards, but his expression stopped me cold. He had a look of pure malice, and his eyes were resting upon me, in a cold glare. I blinked, and do a double take. But as soon as I did this, his expression changed, "Good luck, "He said turning away, he said something under his breath, I could barely hear it, it sounded like, 'You're going to need it'. Okay, he was officially creeping me out, he was never like this.

"Good luck!" I called. He just grunted and took a defensive stance. I did the same and took out my blade, amusing a dull scratching sound, due to the fact that my blades weren't sharp. He did the same, but his came out with a sharp SHING. I gave an uncertain look, and looked to he judge. If he noticed anything, he wasn't showing it.

I stepped back nervously and crouched low. The judge raised his hand, and brought it down, shouting "BEGIN!".

Jared lunged at me, bringing his blades down in an arch over his head. I sidestepped easily and stuck my blade out, hitting his leg. "LEG, ONE POINT GOLD!" Shouted the judge. I stepped back, it was my turn to take the offensive, I lunged at him, and thrust my blade at his stomach. He parried easily, as I expected. I brought my blade back, out of sight, and stepped to the left. He countered my move with a step to the right. I lunged again, stabbing at his legs. He made a move to block it, but I pulled out and brought the elegant claymore smashing on his helmet. "HEAD! WINNER GOLD!" Shouted the judge, signaling the matches end. I turned back to Jared, but was met with a face full of fist.

I fell to the ground, and put my hands up. "Dude! The match is ov-" I was cut off when I felt a searing pain in my left thigh. I looked down at my leg and was horrified. Jared pulled his Spathas out of my leg, revealing crimson blood on the blades. I shrieked and rolled to he side, dodging another slash of his blades. Hearing my shriek, the judge turned towards us, a look of shock on his face. The judge ran into the ring. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" He shouted. Jared turned towards him, giving me a chance to stand up. Jared lunged at the judge, piercing his chest with one of his swords, and slicing his neck with the other. Blood sprayed onto the ground, and the judge dropped to his knees, emitting a disgusting gurgling sound.

Jared turned towards me and frowned. "Why are you standing up? You're just delaying your death!" He said, and ran towards me. I brought my claymore up to block his attack, but he shoved it aside and made a move on me with his own weapons. I sidestepped and kicked his legs out from under him, and hobbled over to the door to the main area, where I could get help. I heard a clank, signaling that Jared was getting up. I looked at him, and I saw a wicked smile on his face. "We don't want the others too know, now do we?" He said with a maniac laugh. He brought his arm up and made a flicking motion at me. I saw a glint of light, and my eyes widened. I turned away shouting in horror, trying to duck. As I fell, I felt a sing of pain in my side, just under my arm. I screamed in pain as I collapsed to the ground. I heard footsteps in the distance, making their way to the door.

Jared stalked closer to me, eyeing me with a evil smile on his face. I gasped, and tried to breathe. I struggled and gained a scratchy strain of my lungs and a bolt of pain upon doing so. The bastard had hit my lungs! I crawled to the door, and leaned against it as he made his way over to me. I was a gamepiece in his sick mind. He trudged up, and grabbed my neck, pinning me too the wall.

"W-w-why are y-ou doing this?" I managed to get out. Between the pain in my lungs, and him choking me, it was quite a feat. He pulled closer to my face, and stared not my eyes. He laughed historically, rearing his head back. He moved his arm back, and looked me in the eyes.

"Here's another scar too add to the collection!" He jerked his arm forward, and I felt cold steel enter my heart. My mouth sputtered with blood, causing me too gag. I looked back a him, with all of my strength. My vision was already starting to blur. So this is it, this is death. My body was numb, and I couldn't feel any pain.

Through the blood in my mouth, I managed to get a word out. "Why?" I asked through the blood.

He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Redemption"

He stood up, leaving the blade lodged in my chest. He walked over and grabbed his other Spatha, griping it tightly in his hands. He grunted and limped over to one of the windows and smashed it out. He shambled to the edge and stood there. He turned and looked at me. For a long time we sat there, start at each other. Neither of us could notice the banging sounds from the door. He brought the blade up in his hands, holding it high above his head.

"Don't look back, Trev, don't look back"

He shoved the blade into his stomach, plastering blood onto the windows beside him. His eyes rolled back, and he gagged on blood. He stood silently for a moment, before swaying. He leaned back, and fell through the open window.

I gasped for breath, but found none. The edges of my vision crept with a haze of flickering black. The last thing I saw before leaving the world, was the door bursting open. And the horrified look on Coach Singans face.

~~~