From the Flames of a Phoenix

        Urgh- head hurts like a mother fucker.

        I pushed my upper body up from my bed and swung my feet off of my bed. The bedframe squeaked as I set my feet onto the ground. I opened my eyes and peered around the room.

        Dawn was standing at the door waiting as Inkwell donned her armor. She finished securing the chest plate and set her helmet down on to the bed next to her. She then turned and trotted over to me.

        “Good morning, sleepy.”

        She reached the edge of my bed and brought herself up onto two hooves and locked me in a hug. Her dark, silky mane brushed against my cheek as she nuzzled me.

        A slight smile crossed my lips and I returned her hug.

        “Good morning to you too, Inkwell,” I peered over her shoulder at Dawn and asked, “Dawn, how much longer do we have till PT starts?”

        “Four minutes.”

        Fou- Fuck!

        My knees jerked my body upwards and Inkwell eeped as she tightened her grip on my chest to keep from flying off. I scanned the room for my armor then stopped when I realized I still had a pony hanging off of me.

        “Opps- sorry, Inkwell.”

        I held her up with my right arm whilst I unhooked her hooves from my back with the other. Once I was free from her grip, I gently set her down onto the floor.

        “My bad, it’s just that w-”

        Oh shit- four minutes!

        Inkwell fixed a rebellious part of her mane. “It’s okay, I probably should’ve not been hugging you when w-”

        I held out my hand with my palm facing her and stated as I walked over to our desk, “No, it’s all good, I always have time for you. Anyways, “ -I put my hand down and grabbed my chestplate- “Dawn, shouldn’t you have woke me up earlier?”

        I heard Dawn sigh, “Yes, but your mar-”

        “I wanted to let you sleep in! You had a rough night!” Inkwell interjected.

        Hm, rough night? Oh yeah, we went out drinking, didn’t we?

        Dawn spoke up again as soon I finished putting on the last of my armor, “Time to go, come on you two.”

        I picked up a brisk pace behind him as Inkwell and I followed him out. I was content until I realized that I smelled like alcohol.

        I stared at the showers wistfully as we passed them and strode out to the field. Our platoon was already waiting in formation outside as the last of the stragglers, namely us, arrived.

        The three of us took our positions in the back, but the other four from our squad was missing. I stood facing forward in attention and joined the rest of my platoon in waiting.

        Eventually, they arrived dragging a soaking-wet Breeze. His armor was glistening as drips of water dripped off. They helped Breeze into position and then took theirs.

        Their arrival signified the last of our platoon arriving and so Alabaster took control.

        “Platoon, attention!”

        Not a soul moved as he shouted.

        “At ease!”

        I switched my position to at ease and let my eyes follow Alabaster as he paced in front of first squad.

        “Today, you all will be competing alongside your squad in bi-monthly competition. As you all know, or should know, each squad will stand against one another.”

        Alabaster walked away from the front and started walking past each row.

        “Your goal is to be the last squad standing. Now, you will be placed inside of an arena and your weapons will be magically altered for the time being. They will not injure, but if a strike was to land upon someone, the spell would force them to feign injury.”

        He stopped in front me, sniffing the air. He turned to face me and asked, “Private Richard, why do you smell like alcohol and lust?”

        Lust? What?

        “Sir, my squad an-”

        “Stop that sentence, I don’t want to hear how it ends.”

        I saw Breeze’s face twist and contort as he barely held in laughter. I resigned myself to my fate and watched as Alabaster continued past me.

        Lust? What exactly happened last night?

        I tried racking my brain for answers, but it came up with no specific explanation. Maybe the way Inkwell was acting this morning is because of something from last night?

        …

        Don’t tell me I did that.

        “-ard!”

        I snapped to attention and saluted, “Yes sir!”

        Alabaster returned my salute and lowered his hoof back to the ground, a signal for me to do the same.

        I lowered my hand to my side whilst he said, “At ease, soldier.”

        I moved my hands behind my back just above my tailbone and spread my feet a foot apart from each other.

        “Next time, try to shower before you arrive.”

        I snapped my right arm up in a salute and shouted, “Yes sir!”

        I lowered my arm as he turned away and walked out of from in front of fourth squad and back to the front of our platoon.

        “As usual,” - Alabaster paced in front of our platoon, - “the arena is placed outside Canterlot outside of a nearby forest.”

        He stopped in front of the middle of our formation. “Platoon, attention!”

        A swift, unified movement later, Alabaster continued, “Left face!”

        I spun ninety degrees counter-clockwise on my right foot’s toes and my left foot’s heel.

        “Forward, march!”

        Hooves beat on the ground along with the distinct thud of my boots.

        Alabaster stuck to the left of our platoon as we marched through the field and towards the exit to Canterlot.

        “Double time, march!”

        Our platoon increased our pace to a hundred and eighty steps per second, which is the equivalent of a moderate paced jog.

        Alabaster called out a cadence each time he stepped down on his front left leg, “Left! Left! Left right left!”

        The sounds and movements blended as muscle memory kicked in and I relinquished my body’s control to years of training.