Decades Lead to Every Day

It is around mid-to-late afternoon when Winter gets home, sighing as he shuts the door. While other ponies are still outside enjoying the remaining hours of daylight, he prefers to retire indoors for the remainder of the day. He levitates the saddlebags off of his back and onto a small coffee table; the only furniture in his living room besides a couch in front of it.

Most houses would have some sort of decoration in a room like this, but in this case, the only aesthetics besides the sparse furniture are a few framed photos on the wall. The first three are individual photos of his mother, his father, and his sister; the fourth is a group photo of them all, plus Winter himself, several years ago before he moved out. The last photo is a very old one of his mother and father, almost twenty years younger, with a small deep green pegasus colt. This photo is off to the side, as if Winter wanted to forget it but not take it down.

The rest of the room consists of just ways to get to other rooms, indicating that the living room was set up to be more like an intersection between parts of the house. There’s a doorway on the left, an actual door on the right, and two sets of stairs in the back going in opposite vertical directions.

As he sets to unpacking the bags, Winter hears padded steps coming from another room, but doesn’t think anything of it. Sure enough, coming in through the doorway from the kitchen is, as most ponies would see, a silver-furred fox. Upon noticing Winter, he pads over and leaps up onto the couch. “Just so you know, that apple pie you bought yesterday is now long gone.”

The unicorn doesn’t even bat an eye at the talking creature. “Hello to you too, Mercury.” He pats the fox on the head. “I bought another one today, don’t worry. But try to make this one last a little longer?”

Mercury huffs. “Fine...”

Most ponies would find a talking fox to be crazy or scary. However, Winter is not most ponies, and his silver friend is not necessarily a fox; rather, he is a kitsune, a rare species similar to foxes that are just as sentient and intelligent as ponies. They can even communicate, but only with ponies they want to; others only hear the yipping and barking typical of a fox.

Winter, whether he wants to be or not, is one pony Mercury has chosen as trustworthy enough to speak with. The silver fox embraces this as he nudges the saddlebags. “Whatcha got in there?”

“Pie, books, apple juice, and knives. Typical Tuesday shopping list.” He levitates out the two books first. “Volumes 15 and 16 of that enchantment series. Been waiting to get these since before the library got blown up.”

“Still don’t know what you’re looking for in those,” Mercury mutters. “You already enchanted Equinox, and you said yourself you can’t reliably use more than six daggers at a time, so you’re not adding more to your arsenal...”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” He boops the fox’s nose. “Top secret.”

Mercury sighs. “Why is everything top secret with you?”

“Hey, this is the first thing I’ve kept a secret from you that you haven’t ended up finding out on your own anyway. Don’t complain.” He takes out the pie box and apple juice next, setting them on the table. “Think you could bring those to the kitchen and put them away?”

“Yep!” The fox gets up, taking the box in his mouth and letting Winter nudge the bottles of juice onto his back. Loaded up, he heads off into the kitchen, carefully balancing everything.

Chuckling, Winter levitates out the final objects from his bags: a small sack of bits, and three sharp daggers. One of them is short with a bright red gem in the bottom of the hilt, while the other two are long and more practical-looking. One has a black hilt, while the other has a brown one. Turning each of them over a couple of times, he soon lays them on the table to put away later.

Quickly growing bored, Winter glances over at the photos on the wall. His muzzle curves up into a small smile at the first few, but when he gets to the last one with the pegasus colt, he sighs, his ears drooping a bit.

“I don’t like that look.”

Snapping his head in the direction of the voice, the unicorn notices Mercury having re-entered the room, looking worried. Winter sighs. “Just thinking, Merc. Don’t mind me.”

Glancing at the photo his friend was looking at, Mercury shakes his head. “I know how you feel, but if looking at his picture is gonna ruin your day, I’m going to take it down.”

“No, it’s fine. I just can’t let my thoughts wander.” He looks at the photo one more time before turning to the kitsune. “I’m just gonna put my new daggers away, then I’m heading to bed. Feel free to stay up or go out as long as you’re in my room by eleven.”

“It’s not even five,” Mercury points out. “And you haven’t eaten yet. Why the early bedtime?”

Winter shrugs as he tosses his empty saddlebags over by the door. “Tired.”

“You’re never tired.”

“I am today.” He lifts up the knives in his magic and heads to the stairs leading down to the basement.

Mercury follows. “Win, I just want to know what’s wrong. Are you sick? Is something happening early tomorrow?”

“No, and no.” The unicorn steps into his basement, which consists of a poorly-lit room and literally nothing except piles of boxes. Opening the nearest one, he is greeted with the contents: at least a dozen more daggers, each one slightly different from one another. “I just feel tired today, Merc.” As he puts the three knives in, his horn pulses a bit with magic, the knives glowing briefly before being placed inside.

The kitsune sighs, seeming to give up. “Fine, then.”

Winter turns and kneels down to his level. “I’m okay, Merc. Really. I just want to actually indulge in some sleepiness rather than insomnia tonight.” He smiles, using a hoof to pet his friend. “Come on, don’t take everything I do so suspiciously.”

Rubbing against the hoof, Mercury smiles as well. “Alright, Win. Sorry… I just get worried about you sometimes.”

“Usually for a good reason.” The unicorn chuckles. “But don’t worry, I’m good. How about you go out for a while? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

The fox tilts his head. “What if somepony tries to break in?”

Winter smirks. “Then they’d be very stupid to try and break into the house of a knife-collecting royal guard.”

About an hour later, Winter still hasn’t gone up to his room. Instead, as soon as Mercury was out of the house, he turned and opened the door on the right of the living room, walking into his office.

This room is possibly the most-furnished part of the house. On the left wall is a large bookcase, tomes neatly set up vertically all across the shelves, with barely any room to add more; a window is beside it, blocked by a dark green curtain. A similar shelf is against the right wall, but this one lacks books; instead, it holds various trinkets and mementoes, such as letters or interesting-looking gems. Beside this shelf is a filing cabinet, currently shut but unlocked. The only light in the room comes from a lamp hanging from the ceiling.

Near the back wall, Winter’s office desk and chair have been meticulously set up, an extra chair for visitors off to the side. A stack of blank paper sits near the edge of the desk, a pen holder with four or five writing implements beside it. Also around the desk are sticky notes with various reminders, a small radio with the volume low, and a typewriter pushed to the side. On the floor next to the desk is a trash can, crumpled-up papers piling up inside.

Winter currently sits at this desk, flipping through one of the two books he got earlier in the day. Every few pages has a new enchantment, explaining its effects and properties, as well as how to go about casting it and how to remove it. Seeing as these are later volumes, the enchantments are much more difficult and specific, and so each one takes up almost fifteen pages, and at least a third of those are warnings of what not to do with said enchantment.

The unicorn doesn’t seem to actually read any of it. His eyes flick over the description of each spell, then he turns pages until he reaches the next one. Over the past hour, he’s made it about halfway through the first of the two books, nothing but quiet music on the radio to break the silence.

Until a loud knocking comes from the front door, that is.

Sighing, Winter shoves a piece of blank paper between the pages to mark his spot, then shuts the book and stands up. “Coming!” He makes his way out of the office and over to the front door, cracking his stiff neck before opening it up.

Standing on the other side of the doorway is an orange earth pony mare, smiling in a way that just screams how much she’d secretly rather be anywhere else. Nevertheless, she tips her hat in greeting. “Evenin’, captain.”

Winter blinks. “Evening?” He glances at his watch, confirming that it is, in fact, rather late in the day. “Wow… lost track of time.” He looks back up. “Um… how can I help you, Applejack?”

“Mind if Ah come in to tell ya?” The farmer grins sheepishly. “Could take a little while.”

Nodding, the unicorn steps back and gestures for her to come in. Once she does, he shuts the door behind her. “Have a seat and tell me what’s up. Is there a problem?”

Applejack shakes her head as she obliges, sitting down on one side of the couch. “Nah, nothin’ bad. Ah’m actually here for my sister.”

Winter tilts his head as he sits on the couch as well. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “Apple Bloom’s at that age where she starts worryin’ about her cutie mark and whatnot. Her friends are, too. And the latest idea they had was bein’ royal guards.”

“...I dread what this conversation will get me to agree to.”

“Ya don’t have to agree to anything, captain.” Applejack smirks. “Hay, might even be safer if ya didn’t.”

He chuckles. “Hey, this is a casual setting. Just call me Winter.”

“Well then, Winter… any chance yer lookin’ for some ‘guards-in-training’?” Applejack asks with a small laugh.

The unicorn shrugs. “Ponyville’s a pretty peaceful place as is, outside of millennia-old evils being released and Everfree Forest creatures getting too close for comfort. We don’t really need more guards. And this is ignoring the obvious fact that, if I recall, your sister isn’t even seventeen yet, so she couldn’t enlist in the first place.”

She shakes her head. “Ah meant more along the lines of just showin’ them around, tellin’ them about the job. See if they like the idea or not. Ah reckon they’ll give up if ya just tell ‘em what training was like.”

“Or it’ll make them even more interested,” he warns. “It was grueling, sure, but a lot of ponies underestimate the difficulty. Even just standing in formation is way tougher than it sounds. No matter how much I try to drill it into their brain, they’ll probably think of it as just being at a school assembly. And if they go into boot camp with that mindset, I refuse to accept any of the blame when they come home crying.”

Applejack rolls her eyes. “Ya make it sound like ‘boot camp’ is just a fancy name for a torture device the princesses made up.”

“If torture makes you strong and buff, that’s pretty accurate.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, strong and buff. So how many days of trainin’ did you skip?” She smirks, but flinches when he levels a powerful glare at her. “Ah was just jokin’...”

“I took all my training in stride, and I’d appreciate it if that was respected, or at least acknowledged.” His expression softens and he pokes his own belly. “Also… I’m not fat.”

She chuckles to herself. “Wasn’t what Ah was implyin’, sugarcube. But gettin’ back to the main topic. Think ya could show Apple Bloom and her friends around?”

He sighs and looks away, thinking about it. “I can’t just bring them in on any random day. Like I said, Ponyville’s a peaceful town, so we don’t do a lot of work as long as we keep ourselves in shape and are always ready for action. We have a training session every two weeks to make sure everypony’s still on top of their game, or when a new guard shows up. If they want to see what it’s like to be a guard, that’d be the best day to bring them in, because I refuse to take them along on an actual mission.”

“If ya did, Ah’d probably kill ya,” she agrees. “So when’s yer next trainin’ day?”

“Next Monday. They’d have to be excused from school, though. We start at eight in the morning sharp.” He taps his watch with a smirk. “If you can get them to the base by seven-thirty, I can give them the usual ‘don’t touch anything’ warning spiel before starting the day.”

“Fine by me.” Applejack nods with a smile. “If Scootaloo’s parents and Rarity give their approval too, they’ll all be there right on time.”

He smiles back. “Alright then. See you on Monday?”

“Hopefully before then,” she answers, standing up. “Thanks for the help, Winter. They’ll be really happy to hear this.”

The unicorn stands up as well, only nodding in response as he tries to figure out what she meant by that first part. The two walk to the door and he opens it for her, waving goodbye as she heads out. “Have a good night, Applejack!”

“You too!” she calls back, waving as well as she starts her walk back home.

After a moment, Winter closes the door and sighs, rubbing his temple before heading back to his office. What am I getting myself into?