Cold rain streaked slowly down the window. Blurry raindrops fell to the ground, one after another, never stopping. A white stallion stood alone in the room, watching the rain fall endlessly. The night was dark, and only the light of a lone lamp shone on the street. It illuminated a small circle but went no further. Dark clouds covered the sky, blocking out any light from the moon or stars.
Sugar Cube Corner was dark, and although it was closed it would have to serve as shelter for now. The guard stood idly in the corner, eyelids drooping. Nothing ever happens on the night shift, he thought. Lightning flashed, but the white stallion didn't budge. He stood firm on the ground, eyes staring coldly out of the window. His hoofs stood in place, resting on the creaky floorboards. It's my birthday, I shouldn't have to work. Cheerful thoughts of returning home to be with his family entered his mind. They lived in poverty, so he wasn't expecting any gifts, but he had been longing for a magnificent snow globe that sat on display at the antique store. What I wouldn't give to have that snow globe. Fantasies of being wealthy enough to become a collector entered his mind. It was what he always dreamed of.
Rain hit the roof, but the stallion heard no noise. His world was what lay outside the window, and that world knew no sound. The weight of his armor didn't exist in this world. This world only consisted of his thoughts.
Ponyville was asleep. Nothing stirred at this hour of the night, but thievery had become a problem. Princess Celestia must be mistaken, nothing happens here, thought the bored stallion, There is no reason for me to have to stand guard. Sleep seemed irresistible at this point. The gloomy night brought thoughts of sweet slumber to the mind of the vigilant stallion.
Better that nothing happens, Celestia would have my head if I allowed anything to happen. Soft, mournful whispers of the wind permeated the room. The night was trying to send a message, but the stallion did not see it. Life was stirring, and nature had sensed it.
Back when I was a colt things were so much different. How things have changed. The stallion began to reminisce. Happy memories played like movies in his mind, causing an unconscious twitch in the corners of his mouth. His mind was prepared for slumber, but his body refused to give in. It was imperative that he stood guard.
The princess isn't playing games anymore, he thought, Ever since the war Celestia hasn't been the same. Memories of his past began to play now, ousting the enjoyable memories that had once filled his mind. He had seen ponies beaten and killed for resistance. The darkness of his memories caused another twitch. I've had this job for too long.
He couldn't stop the memories from playing in his head. He closed his eyes but it did no good, the memories his mind showed him couldn't be unseen. Screaming, blood, death. He had seen it all. Now his concentration had been broken. He repositioned one hoof, trying to gain control of his thoughts. His constant gaze out the window was steadfast once more, but the haunting memories continued to play in his mind. He realized that he wasn't bothered enough by these memories. His exposure to it had made it almost regular. Death is too common with this job.
Killing another stallion was nothing to be proud of, nor was he proud at all. But within the dark corners of his mind he kept the names of those who had passed at his hoof. It was one of the toughest things to do, but it was for the good of Equestria. Protecting Equestria is my job, I just do my job, he reassured himself. He couldn't help but think about his son and his wife. A tear ran down his cheek as he thought about how they had been living in poverty for so long. Soon I'll be promoted, he began, Then I'll finally be able to provide for them. The stallion was willing to do just about anything for that promotion, even if it meant harming other stallions.
Princess Celestia wasn't taking chances anymore. After the war, it didn't matter if criminals were imprisoned or killed, as long as they were taken care of. The whole premise of the Royal Guard had changed. It's a dark, cruel world. But I guess I'll just have to deal with it.
A step. It was quiet, but not silent. The guard's ear perked at the subtle change in sound. His heart began to beat faster, and he felt all of his senses becoming acute. Readying itself for anything that was thrown at it, his body began to tighten muscles. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and his eyes were wide open. Breaths were drawn out, maximizing the amount of oxygen that was being taken in.
With a light push, the door creaked easily open. Through the rain the outline of a pony trotting slowly down the street could be seen. Without hesitation the veteran guard stepped out onto the street. Projecting his voice to seem authoritative, he called out to the mysterious pony, "Hey! What are you doing trotting around at this hour?"
The pony was wearing a dark hood that covered its face and spread to cover his flank. Black saddlebags hung from his back, soaking wet from the rain. Black hood, black saddlebag, black cloak, definitely a thief. As he awaited an answer from the pony, the white stallion puffed his chest out as far as he could, allowing full view of the armor he wore proudly.
Neither pony dared to move. Streaks of rain ran down the face of the guard and his wet mane was flat and heavy. His tail sagged from the extra weight the rain brought and the lack of movement. He stood in the small circle created by the lamp that hung above him.
Water from a puddle spattered in the opposite direction. With a quick turn the pony was galloping away from the guard, its cloak flying behind in the wind. Digging his hoof into the ground the stallion took off at full speed, his heart beating as fast as it could. The buildings were a blur to the white stallion as he tracked the movements of the pony in front of him. Rain flew directly into the eyes of the guard, but that didn't slow him down.
Splashes of water flew left and right as the powerful steps of both ponies hit the puddles. They were galloping through a wide street. With a quick push from his left hoof the pursued pony dashed into a nearby alleyway with a skillful turn. The stallion followed, his armor feeling as though it weighed ten times what it did before.
All his muscles worked to their maximum power. He was closing in on the runner. What was once a gentle breeze was now biting wind that tore past the galloping stallion. His eyes remained fixated on the pony. From in front the thief made another sharp turn into another street. Using all the power he could, the guard managed to make the turn without losing speed. Now he was upon the pony.
His muscles were tense, eyes red from the rain, and he was panting. Within distance of capture, his goal was so close. With a final effort, he made a daring leap forward. His hoofs pushed off the wet ground with a mighty force, and he flew through the air. His eyes were set on the pony in front of him. Flying through the air, time seemed to slow down.
As the hoofs of the escaping pony took a bad step, the guard was almost on top of the pony. With a massive amount of force, the gallop was brought to a halt. The pony lay on the ground now, injured from the tackle. Relieved that it was over, the guard brought himself to a stand, shaking his head to recover from the tackle.
Blood mixed with the rain that covered the ground. Reacting quickly, the pony had provided a swift kick from his rear hoofs to the face of the guard. Taking a few steps back, the stinging pain caused the stallion to close his eyes and turn away. But it was short lived, and before the thief could take off again the guard had already forgotten about it.
With a quick step forward, the pony attempted to deliver another blow to the guard, but this time he was prepared. Ducking quickly, the stallion dodged the blow and delivered his own straight into the stomach of the pony. The sheer amount of force contained in the blow was enough to flip the thief over. Lying on his back, he remained helpless as the guard approached him.
Dripping from his jaw, the guard noticed that he was losing blood. The pony on the ground held both its forehoofs over its stomach, trying to recover from the powerful kick of the stallion. Its hood continued to cover its face, concealing the identity of the pony. Trotting slowly over to the pony, anger consumed the guard. He felt the pain from the force of the kick now. I've never been hit that hard before, he noted.
He stood tall over the fallen pony, towering over the groaning thief. Without warning, the pony attempted to deliver another kick to the stallion from the ground, but it was futile. Sidestepping quickly, the hindhoofs of the pony missed the stallion completely. In retaliation, the stallion brought his forehoof crashing down on the ponies hood. The powerful blow dismissed any thoughts of retaliation the thief had. A resounding crack could be heard as the hoofguard met the hooded face of the pony. Blood seeped through the hood as the forceful hit drove the pony's face to the ground.
Let's find out who you are. The white stallion lifted a hoof and reached toward the hood of the thief. Life sprung back into the defeated pony, and in a hopeless effort it attempted to kick the guard once more. The hoof of the thief hit the stallion successfully, catching him off guard. Granted the blow wasn't nearly as strong as the first one, it hit close enough to the area of the first blow to cause the guard to back off. The guard was fed up with this thief, trying to endure the pain that was brought back by the kick.
"That's it," he yelled, "You've stolen goods, resisted arrest, and injured an officer of the Royal Guard. We have a special place for people like you."
Determined to bring this conflict to an end, he approached the thief for a final time. The rain poured down on the two lone ponies. Beaten and injured, the thief lay on the ground, its stomach rising and falling. His promotion in mind, the stallion trotted over to the black saddlebags that the thief had been carrying. Opening the bag with his snout, the contents poured out onto the street. To the guard's surprise, only one item fell out of the bag.
A snow globe rolled slowly out of the saddlebag to the hoof of the white stallion. It was the same snow globe that he had been longing for so badly. Its price tag remained attached, confirming that it had been stolen. His attention turned to the thief who lay motionless on the ground, a circle of blood surrounding its head. It was on the verge of death, but that was no matter, Celestia didn't care whether criminals were killed or imprisoned. I still don't know the gender of this thief. Time to end this. The dying pony's was curled up into a ball, blood slowly trickling away in the current of the rain.
With soft steps, the stallion trotted over to the body that lay on the ground. He removed the hood of the thief.
With one last breath, the thief muttered his final sentence.
"I'm sorry."
Life left the motionless body, and the white stallion's son died on the cold, rainy street as his birthday present rolled down the alleyway.
