Advance Of Night.

Six months later.

Exercise Penumbra.- Final Exercise for Eclipse Selection. Final Day of testing. Miles down- 30, miles to go- 10. Time till end-ex: 30 minutes.

Everything hurts. I've been through some tough spots in my time, but this one really takes the daisies. My legs burn from the endless marching, my hooves are numb and even my wings ache. The sodden uniform feels like it weighs more than the absolutely titanic combat saddle I'm wearing and it chafes my skin raw, even beneath my fur. I can feel trickles of something hot and wet travelling down my legs from where the combat saddle straps have cut through the calluses that formed over the last lot of raw flesh. I've been marching non stop for the past day and a half, moving from point to point, navigating by compass and by the stars. Each hoof-step hurts like hell, but I continue to trot onwards, continuing to urge myself forwards by sheer strength of will.

I've come too far to look back now; I’ve fought too hard to get to this point to give up here. I'm ten miles from the finish, ten miles from completing the dreaded Penumbra Forty, gateway to the Eclipse. In principle, the Penumbra Forty is not too challenging. Cover forty miles in eight hours, navigating by map and compass. There’s no rest breaks or food stops, just one canteen of water and a combat saddle loaded to the absolute maximum. The Night Guard did something similar, only that was called Marauder's March. However, all that overlooks one critical detail, those forty miles are not forty miles over Birch Ranges or Ash Plains. Instead, it's forty miles through the Everfree forest, monsters and all, and as a result each pony goes under the Penumbra armed with projectile firing rifles. All this has to be done in eight hours or you fail the exercise. The only thing that makes this even remotely bearable is that it's a night march, something that the Lunar Guards have to excel at for reasons that should be obvious.

Nopony does night fighting like us I think. With that thought I carry on marching, grunting as the pack shifts slightly across my back. That knowledge that Lemon and Foxy would be suffering far more than I as soldiers of the Equestrian army, with less night-fighting training under their belts fails to provide the comfort it did three hours ago. Both of them are NCOs with quite a bit of experience under their hocks, neither of them will be afraid of the dark.

“I know the way now, it's not far from here” I mumble as I trot onwards, shouldering my way through the brush and branches. Keeping that notion in mind, I shoulder my way through a particularly obstinate shrub, the tree branches like skeletal fingers dragging across the leather and polymer of my saddle and snatching at the large unwieldy rifle hanging beneath my neck. All I can hear is the rain battering down around me and the weary trudging of my own hooves as I haul myself through the mud and muck of two days of rain in the Everfree. I clamber up a bank and slither down the other side straight into a trench filled to the brim with muddy water where I'm instantly immersed up to my withers in cold clammy water that chills me to the bone.

The water running through the ditch is moving fairly quickly and I'm not as strong as I could be, having been worn down by seven and a half hours fighting my way through the Everfree forest, on top of four months of some of the most brutal training known to pony-kind. Twigs, leaves and small rocks batter at my hooves and legs as I try to haul myself out of the water, scrabbling for purchase upon the muddy bank, however my hooves slip and slither on the muddy bank, my bulky equipment acting as a massive dead-weight to haul me back into the murky depths.

The familiar panic slices through me, gripping me tight in its talons. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to focus my mind as I fight through the terror that slashes through my guts. Visions of dead gryphons dance before my eyes, visions of fire and explosions and mass graves. I summon up the familiar mantra, that that moment's gone now, what matters is here and now. Eclipse, Lightning Dust. The dead are dead and I cannot resurrect them.

I haul, tugging and straining at the bank as I try to get some traction, however there is nothing to dig my hooves into, no tree roots or sturdy rocks. Just mud that my hooves slither and slide upon. The sucking mud grabs at my hind legs like the clammy talons of a hundred dead gryphons, inexorably pulling me backwards as the weight of my own equipment drags me further into the water. Terror, cold and final, grips at my belly. There are no instructors or assessors on the course itself, they don’t need to be there. If the cadet has made it to the end point in the time limit then they have passed, if not then they've failed, the end. Ponies have died undertaking Eclipse selection, Chaos made that fact brutally clear during our induction briefing.

My hooves scrabble frantically for purchase as my breath and heart quickens. I cannot go out like this. I will not go out like this, fighting for breath as my lungs fill with muddy water. However the laws of physics, cold and immutable things that they are, do not care for the strength of my will or the power of my conviction. I continue to fight against the current as the mud drags me inexorably backwards into the water.

I fight harder, concentrating on Lightning Dust. I grunt, my left hoof finding purchase on a tiny rock. I start to apply my weight to the tenuous hoof-hold whilst moving my right foreleg out to grope for a firmer posture, a root that is just beyond my reach, inches from my grasp. I hook my right hoof round the root and start to haul myself further, feeling the grip of the mud around my hind legs starting to give. My forelegs strain under the effort of hauling myself free of the mud, shaking as I continue to pull myself free of the slime. All my weight is now upon this tree root and my right fore hoof. Suddenly the root splinters, the sharp crack ringing like a gunshot as the weight of my saddle proves too much and I slip backwards, the mud fighting to reassert its dominance as the current picks up.

I slide backwards into the water, my fore-hooves struggling for something, anything to grab onto, however nothing comes to hoof as the dead gryphons grip me tighter, pulling me backwards. My rifle bounces uselessly against my chest and neck as I try to fight my way out of the mud, its weight like a stone around my neck. I hear something approaching, branches snapping and undergrowth being stirred. I gulp, realising that my flailing must have attracted the attention of one of the monsters that stalk this part of the Everfree. The sound of branches snapping as the thing draws closer to me, the thump of hooves in the mud ringing in my ears. I frantically turn my head this way and that, hunting for the threat. Icy fingers of terror twist in my guts as I struggle.

“Fookin' Night-Lights, can't even cross a fookin' ditch without some-pony giving them a hoof.”

Oh thank fuck for that, it’s fuckin Lemon I think, relief flowing through me. I turn my head to see the Unicorn, streaked with mud, blood and dirt. He’s standing at the top of the bank looking down at me. The normally yellow pony is practically black with dirt and crap covering every inch of exposed fur, the whites of his eyes shining crazily as he cautiously descends, before jumping the ditch and landing over on my side of the trench. He trots over to me, limping slightly on his right foreleg. I can see he's got a fairly nasty gash in his leg that shows every sign of getting very badly infected if he comes and assists me. However, he limps over and I feel the weak grip of his magic around me ad he starts to pull me free. He and I both know that he doesn't have time to do this, that he needs to leave me and make tracks if he wants to get to the end-point in time. However he still hauls me free, dragging me out of the mud and depositing me unceremoniously upon the bank.

“Can't handle a bit o' water?” He grunts, drawing in a breath through his teeth as he puts weight on his right foreleg. I don't have the energy to reply quite yet, panting hard as I catch my breath, before I drag myself to my aching hooves as he turns to leave.

“Mate, hold it.” I say quickly

He shakes his head “We don' have time Night-Light, we've gotta move nice and prompt-like if we wanna make it.” He says quickly.

I shake my head to offer an objection. “Lemon, you're not going anywhere 'prompt-like' on that right leg, I've got a first aid kit, let me take a look.” I offer, knowing I don't have time, but he's just saved my life, not only that, but he’s a mucker. We’ve been through Selection together and we’ve worked closely together to help each other out. I can always re-take the course next year, but if I don't help Lemon, that's poor thanks indeed for saving my life.

“Fook it, go ahead.” He sinks to his haunches, hissing a breath as I unfold my wings and carefully reach round for the first aid pouch strapped to the underside of them. Whilst they've grown back pretty nicely since my little shooting, they can;'t hold my weight quite yet, though Lightning Dust is pulling some strings to get me seen by the Navy's Fighter-pony doctors. The incantation that keeps them dry is still nice and strong and the first aid kit nestled in my feathers is still bone dry. I open it up, before squeezing my camelback nozzle with my teeth, squirting the last of my drinking water over his wound. Lemon hisses in agony as the water makes contact. It washes the worst of the dirt away, though he's going to need to get that seen to properly when we make it back.

I then pull out a bandage and offer it to Lemon, who uses his magic to wrap it around the wound and tie it tight, refusing my offer of painkillers.

“I'm not a sissy, I've slept on worse.” He grunts and I nod, folding my first aid kit away and tucking it back among my feathers. “Cheers mate.” He adds and nothing more needs to be said.

“Let's get going, or they'll all fuck off and leave us at the extraction point.” Lemon says and I nod, the exercise returning to the forefront of my mind. However as we're about to head out, I hear a soft clearing of the throat behind me and turn to see Chaos standing on the far bank, looking absolutely immaculate beneath a water shielding spell. I try my best to hide the rage that rolls through my guts at the sight of the instructor.

“Nice job ponies.” He says softly “I'm truly impressed, so impressed in fact that I forgot how to work my stop-watch, you've got fifteen minutes extra time.”

With that, me and Lemon turn on our hooves and start rushing through the underbrush, moving as quickly as Lemon's wound will allow. Though I can make better time alone, I'm not leaving him behind. The two of us continue, fighting through the underbrush and foliage together. No words are spoken as we move, neither of us have the time or the energy to speak, concentrating on the herculean task of putting one exhausted, battered hoof in front of the other. Fifteen minutes is not long at all and we need to get moving. However as we continue, Lemon starts to flag beneath his injury.

“Let's go mate.” I grunt, turning to offer encouragement and he nods, trying to move faster.

“I've got... something I wanna ask you.” He pants as we walk and I nod, summoning the energy for a conversation from somewhere. Anything to keep us going. My mouth feels dry and my tongue several sizes too large for my mouth. Our conversation is slurred and our voices hoarse.

“You're the pony who shot General Shining Armour in the face right?”

I laugh, a hoarse harsh bark of sound as I recall that memory. Everypony has asked me that question, from Chaos down to the other trainees, all of whom were sergeants or higher in their respective regiments. They seemed to respect my shooting Shining Armour though.

“Ponies are still talking about that?” I ask, and he nods with a broad smirk.

“Aye, It's a giggle mate, you'd never get away with it if you did it to my regiment though.” Lemon mutters as we move onward through the dark.

“Funny how everypony says that.” I mutter “Even other Grenadiers.”

“You mean Padders?” Lemon asks and I grunt in affirmation

“Yeah, him.”

'Padders' was a Grenadier who'd had delusions of joining Eclipse and credit where credit's due, he lasted a fair way into the process, however he'd washed out in the escape and evasion portion. He was fastidiously neat and tidy, as all Grenadiers have to be, and he took the good natured banter that I hurled at him in the spirit it was offered, and he returned just as scathing fire as he was offered. He wasn't a bad pony or crap at the job, however he just wasn't right for Eclipse, or Eclipse wasn't right for him.

“Well he had his moments.” Lemon says sagely.

“Yeah.” With that phlegmatic exchange, we continue on our way, the energy for conversation fading as we continue on our march. Some time later, we make our way down a hill and we see lights at the edge of the forest. Slowly we make our way towards the lights, panting hard. We stagger down the slope, past tree roots and clamber over stumps and logs. Victory is within our reach, we're both nearly at the end now, I can almost see the finish line. Four months of arduous training, of combat lectures and brutally hard work are nearly at an end, with the prize, a coveted spot on Eclipse's books and the coveted burning moon Beret badge.

Images dance before my head, Lightning Dust waiting for me with a smile, wrapping her wings around me and holding me close for the first time in months. I've missed that mare more than I can say. She may be arrogant as all get out and may be hard to live with at some moments, but she is a very special pony to me.

We step out into the light, which turns out to be a simple lantern hanging off the back of a sky chariot. Chaos is standing there, calm and inflammable as always. Nopony else is there but him, the enchanted chariot obviously capable of moving under its own power. We slowly stagger up to Chaos, who gestures with a hoof for us to climb up into the sky chariot. The cheeky bastard doesn't even offer a word of congratulations. We stagger up into the sky chariot and collapse, gasping for breath. I'm barely aware of Chaos climbing in to get the chariot moving as I fall asleep, my exhaustion snatching me in its arms the moment my head meets the floor. My eyelids droop and I'm out cold before my brain can even comprehend what has happened.