1 - Where Does It All Go?
Chapter 1: Where does the energy go?
“You know, I think the public sometimes underestimates what we do.”
“No. No way. We do a lot.”
Myst couldn’t help but detect an undercurrent of strain in her superior’s reply.
“Well we do a lot,” she agreed. “Just that… I think we just get a bad rap, you know?”
There was a short silence between them. Myst glanced sideways at Sergeant Steel. His gaze flickered habitually among the slow moving crowds of Canterlot. She always thought he lived up to his name, all stoic and business-like. She admired that. At times like this, though, when they were on duty—alone and together—she thought he was a little less confident. Less… steely.
“I just think that the jobs we’re given aren’t really fit for Guard work. I mean last week I was fetching cats out of trees and trimming away overgrown bushes! I don’t think this is what a military force should be like.”
“Well Private, no need to give in to speculation, we’re in this for the service to the Crown, not for the respect and admiration,” he finally replied. Steel appeared unruffled and unflustered. Myst would have believed that statement half a year ago, when she hadn’t finished reading the Recruit’s Manual.
“Sergeant, I think the Manual may be—” she glanced around “—wrong.”
The silence was back, but it carried a certain edge to it. His next words cut through the air as if to stem the swaths of doubt with just his tone.
“The Manual is always right.”
“And I’d agree with you, if that statement wasn’t also in the Manual in the first place.”
“The Manual is our reference guide to protecting and serving Equestria.”
“That statement is also in the Manual. Look, it hasn’t been updated for a couple of centuries.” Myst glanced at the spear she was holding and threw it to the ground. “Why do we still have spears? We have modern weapons now! Haven’t they heard of magic?”
“Private, this is dangerous talk. Now, I suggest you take a breather and a spot of tea. Relax yourself.”
“That’s also in the Manual! Can’t you think of any advice that’s not in the Manual?”
Sergeant Steel pursed his lips. He looked deep in thought.
“I can think of many examples where my wit and courage could overcome obstacles that are not in the Manual,” he answered, keeping his tone neutral.
Myst resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Alright then,” she said. “Let’s hear it. I’m all ears.”
Sergeant Steel opened his mouth. Then closed it. He opened it again.
“Ahah!” Myst cheered, pointing an accusatory hoof. “You can’t—”
“Can it, Private! I just need to construct the appropriate scenario in my mind to properly demonstrate the truth of what I’m about to convey to you. Can you handle a few seconds of silence, Private?”
“Yes, sir,” Myst replied glumly, then she lapsed into silence. The crowd around them continued to meander through the streets. There wasn’t going to be any trouble here, not on this side of Canterlot. The gates were rarely guarded. Today was going to be a special day so they wanted a few guards up and about. Myst wondered briefly what was going on but beyond the orders of ‘guard that gate’, they hadn’t been told anything. She shook her head, maybe she’d ask around the barracks later on, besides, the sergeant had long enough to think of something.
“Well?” Myst finally ventured. Steel twitched and looked back to Myst in confusion.
“Well what?” he replied, cocking his head.
Myst bit back a sharp retort. “Well what’s the scenario you’ve come up with? You know, the one you’ve said would just rely on your wit and courage to overcome. No Manual.”
Steel looked like he bit into a lemon. “Well really the Manual is comprehensive so there’s no such scenario, but if you insist I’ll try and create one.”
Myst’s mouth curled up into an expression of distaste. Of course there was going to be something if he sat there long enough. It still didn’t prove that the Manual wasn’t a ridiculous book.
Steel broke the silence with a triumphant-sounding grunt.
“Private?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve figured out a scenario.”
“Congratulations, sir.”
“A common duty of the Guard is to help ponies whenever they require assistance.”
“Well that’s true.”
“The Manual doesn’t have anything written about giving ponies direction. We’re good at doing that.”
Myst didn’t know what to say.
“Huh.”
Steel nodded sagely. “That’s right. We’re helping. The Manual doesn’t teach you how to be helpful by giving directions.”
“No it doesn’t,” she replied wryly. “But don’t you think that the Manual has been a bad influence on us? It teaches us how to be polite, etiquette for instances where we interact with royals, and how to posture in different ways to ‘look the most aesthetically pleasing to the public’. It doesn’t tell us anything about survivability and fighting.”
Steel gave Myst an incredulous look.
“Why would we ever need to fight? Survivability? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why do we carry spears then?”
“It goes with our armour.”
Myst resisted the urge to bring a hoof to her face. Not because it would be rude, but mainly because hooves are hard.
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s talk about something else. This Manual business is giving me a headache.”
“Don’t worry, Private, you’ll get used to it.”
Myst pondered on whether Steel was referring to the Manual or her headaches. She decided that she would have to get used to both. As a unicorn passed by, eating a sandwich, Myst suddenly had a thought.
“Sir, do you ever wonder where all the energy comes from?”
“Private, if this is another philosomical—or whatever you call ‘em—question, I’m going to end the discussion here.”
“No sir, it’s not a philosophical question. I’m talking about unicorn magic.”
“Hmm. Okay then Private, shoot.”
“Well from what I’ve heard about unicorn magic, spells you cast require some sort of energy, right?”
“Yes, the energy required comes from internal magical reserves. The concentration required for each spell, depending on the complexity can burn quite a few calories. I’ve heard that the amount of calories is directly related to the amount of magic you burn.”
“Oh. So that’s why when we pegasi fly long distances we’re both tired and hungry, because we’re using our innate magic.”
“That’s what I’ve been taught.”
“So would alicorns need to eat more?”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Private.”
“I mean, if alicorns have all three of the tribe’s magic infused with them, wouldn’t they need thrice the caloric intake? Is that how they keep their figure? If that’s so then the recent feast that the Princess held, I’ve heard she’s eaten enough for five ponies. Seems like the Princess is taking in more than she needs.”
“Careful, Private, that’s drifting close to tarnishing the Princess’ name.”
Heedless, Myst continued, “I’ve heard some shocking eating habits coming from the newest princess. You don’t think Princess Twilight picked up bad eating habits from her alicorn transformation, do you? I think it’s because of her magical consumption.”
“That is correct, Private,” Steel replied shortly.
Myst squinted. “How do you know?” she asked.
“It’s in the Manual.”
“What? I’ve never seen it in the Manual, sir.”
“Sure it is. It’s in the Officer’s Manual.”
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“I’m a Private. Not an officer.”
“I’m very well aware of that, Private.”
“Is this you asking me not to question it?”
“No, this is me ordering you not to question it.”
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“You have no idea what I’ve just been talking about for last few minutes, have you.” It came out as more of a statement than a question.
“No Private, I’ve just been doing my job.” He glared determinedly at the shifting crowd. A passing stallion caught his look, hunched over and darted out of sight.
About ten minutes passed before Myst got bored enough to venture another question.
“Sir?” she asked.
There was another tired sigh. “Yes?”
“Do you dislike this job?”
He shifted in his position, the armour scraping slightly. “I’ve learned not to question that a long time ago, Private.” As soon as he finished, he heard the sound of approaching hoof steps. He glanced back.
“Stand fast!” he commanded, going rigid. Myst hurriedly straightened her posture and gazed straight ahead.
“At ease, soldiers,” she heard a familiar voice say. Myst relaxed slightly and turned her head to spot the Captain of the Guard coming towards them.
“Captain Armor, sir,” they both greeted promptly.
“No need for ceremony,” he replied, leaning against the gate. The Captain looked tired. His eyes were drawn out like stretched cookie dough. As Myst thought about that, her stomach growled. Food-related descriptions reminded her that she had skipped lunch.
The Captain took a deep breath, lapsing into companionable silence among his peers.
“So,” he said. “Anything to report?”
“No sir, quiet as a mouse here. Unless you count the ones in the barracks, those are noisy as Tartarus, pardon my language,” Steel answered.
Shining chuckled slightly then continued his vigil among them.
“Uhh sir?” Myst spoke up.
“Yes, Private… Mystique was it?”
Myst flushed a deep shade of crimson. She didn’t like her name, it was very… unlike her profession. “Yes, sir. If you would like, you can call me Myst.”
“Very well, Private Myst, what is your query?”
“I just wanted to know what you’re doing all the way out here.”
Shining looked a little embarrassed. Myst smiled. From the way he stood uneasily, with his cheeks flamed red, Myst could understand why Princess Cadance would fall for him. Cute.
“It’s alright, sir. No need to explain it to us,” she said.
Shining shook his head. “Ah well, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted to get out of the castle for a while. There’s a lot of activity around there and I just wanted to make my rounds somewhere peaceful.” He sighed. “You would not believe the paperwork.”
“You have my sympathies, sir,” Steel offered.
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
Finally Myst had to ask. After all, Shining was an expert in magic. “I was just wondering,” she began slowly, “since you’re in a relationship with an—”
“Private…” Steel growled in warning.
Shining tilted his head, curious. He waved a hoof nonchalantly.
“I’m happy to satisfy the curiosity of any guard serving the Princesses. You may continue, Private.”
“Uhh yes sir, thank you, sir. I was just wondering if you’d notice Princess Twilight and Princess Cadance eating anything extra? I was wondering about the relationship between caloric intake and magic usage. Do they need extra food to compensate for the extra magic?” She paused, then added quickly, “If that’s not an impertinent question, sir.”
Shining hesitated, his mouth quirked as he tried to find a way to answer it. He nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ve noticed that my wife and my sister has eaten about three times as much as they had before.” He frowned, his brow wrinkled in thought. “Though for alicorn in general there’s not much known about them apart from the Royal Sisters, and I’ve definitely seen them eating more than a lion’s share on the banquet table.”
He shrugged. “I think we’ve just gotten used to it.”
“Well I think we can all agree that the Princesses are in relatively good shape,” Myst stated.
There were nods all around.
“So, where does all the extra energy go?”
There was a moment of silence.
“To the sun?” Shining offered.
They all turned their gazes to the flaming orb hanging above them.
“Oww! Okay, let’s not try that again,” Myst cried, clutching her eyes with her hooves.
The other two stallions nodded quickly. Sometimes it was better to leave some questions alone.
Author's Note
Moral of the story: Don't look at the sun.
Also don't question the sun's weight, it will burn you with divine fury.
Next Chapter: What qualifies as appropriate funding?
As always, my ubiquitous readers, thanks for reading!
