Evening sunlight slanted at a sharp angle from the western horizon as Shining Armor padded his way to the Canterlot Castle museum. His rather sour mood was alleviated only somewhat by the bright colors that were splashed across the sky in violent blurs of orange and yellow and ochre, nor the cool spring breeze that blew in from the north—a constant thing at this elevation. The reason for Shining Armor's mood was the simple fact that in less then ten minutes, the Day and Night guards would switch shifts and he would be allowed to return home to a certain female who would be waiting for him with eager anticipation for what he called 'springtime activities' and she called 'Shiny, if you don't get over here right this second I swear I'm going to petrify you'.
Shining Armor learned young that you don't tempt fate when a mare was in heat.
He had been looking forward to some time off. Rueful thoughts aside, he hadn't exactly had any time off to spend with Cadenza in a non-official capacity. True their relationship by now was practically public knowledge, but they both took their obligations seriously and kept most affections private beyond chaste kisses to the cheeks when they were suitably alone. However, it had been within those ten minutes, that the alarm in the Castle museum had gone off.
It had only been for the briefest of moments, a slight hiccup in the system that many of the guards were eager to write off as a glitch in the spell matrices, but Shining Armor was nothing if not thorough with his work, and while he hated himself a bit for it, he had elected to at least check and make sure nothing was amiss.
The museum was entirely dedicated to one of the many towers that had been built about the Castle itself, similar as to how the library that his sister had recently vacated had been. It's walls were pristine white with a steep golden roof that stretched up into a stylized sun that reflected the evening light back tot he distant sun, all carefully maintained and touched up by royal workers who saw to the gradual environmental damage the Castle grounds sustained throughout the season. By the time he had approached the doors, the previous Day Guard had already gone. Shining Armor made a mental note to give them quite a stern verbal lashing the next day for abandoning their post, but he also could understand their eagerness to end their shift.
Some time ago, being stationed at the museum tower had been regarded as a form of punishment by many of the lower ranking guard as it 'lacked the excitement' of other posts. For one thing, the various items that the museum displayed were already adequately protected by intricately woven security spells that had been established and maintained by University archmages with affiliations with the various historic guilds that curated the museum and often tenured at the University. It was nearly impossible for a layman to steal anything without severe ramifications as soon as the spells kicked in. The other most commonly complained about issue was that the guards were often considered experts of the things in which they were guarding—which was sometimes true—and were often approached by visitors with questions that had a certain pattern to them.
It was rather hard to maintain their stoic vigil when being asked for the thousandth time where the Circlet of Douval was when visitors had to pass it just to bother the guard.
The museum held a number of artifacts in it's tower. Artifacts and trinkets and baubles and art from histories before the founding of the nation, but the most popular of the museum were the crown jewels display, and the military history floor which not only was within the tower, but stretched out across a bridge to the castle itself where even more paintings of previous generals hung, grim faced and proud in their gilded armors.
The crown jewels were on the ground floor displayed in the center of the room and surrounded by various other bright gifts or treasures claimed from varying nations throughout history. It had been intentionally set up this way with the idea that it would be easier to defend by guards of any herd before the archmages had set up their clever spells and now it served as the main draw for many people to visit and gawk at their bright polish and carefully maintained silks. Shining glanced to the crowns as he always did as he passed this floor, heading up the stairs to where the alarm had hiccuped.
The military history floor had always caught his attention when he was young and eager to join the guard in which his forefathers had been a part of. Plus it was damned cool. Armors hung on mannequins with blank, eyeless faces. Barding made of tough layered canvas and bronze helmets with violently vivid plumes along with weapons of the various herds throughout history. Pegasus razors, unicorn maces, earthen swords. Stone, iron, copper, steel, all carefully maintained and displayed with plaques that told of their grim history and use in warfare to foolish children that idolized such practices. Shining had to resist a surprisingly bitter chuckle at the memory of himself standing in front of a display of a helm, watching his reflection as he tried to align it just so it seemed as if he was wearing the thing.
Silly children and their fevered dreams.
This floated at the back of his mind as he continued his search. This had been where the alarm had been, but so far nothing seemed to be out of place. He walked along aisles that displayed armors and weapons, gradually making his way towards the back where the enchanted items were held near the stairs and the bridge that connected to the castle until he turned the corner and stopped in surprise.
As he had feared, the alarm had not been a hiccup. He had hoped it was, it wasn't terribly uncommon for spells to goof occasionally on their own, but on this occasion it had performed it's duty admirably and had been utterly destroyed by the one who triggered it. The museum owned rather few enchanted weapons, as the methods in which to make them were usually very secretive depending on the blacksmith, enchanter, and user of such tools. Many were designed to disenchant upon the demise of their user, but some were made for general use by anyone skilled enough to shoulder the enchantment and use the weapon itself. Thus, they were held within only a single—although large—display that ran along the wall to terminate at the stairway. The thick protective glass of the display was open, or rather more accurately, was gone entirely, and one of the weapons was removed.
It hadn't gotten far, though. The culprit was still here, examining it under a very critical eye. The Lance of Selene was a spear of some repute. Most recognized for its giant size and extraordinary layer of enchantments, it had been widely regarded as being created by Celestia herself based on it's exquisite craftsmanship. It was taller then she was long from tip of her mane to tip of her tail, though it's shaft was about the standard for many others like it. The shaft itself was stained a dark blue, nearly black when the light was dim, but the head and pommel were a bright, polished steel that had no blemishes of a hammer or stone. The double-sided blade was longer then Shining Armor's foreleg and had such an acute angle that it looked like it would slip between the ridges of armor effortlessly and pierce into flesh with barely any pressure at all. Just below the blade was a cross that curved upwards, adding more sharp points to an already intimidating weapon.
More then once Shining as a boy had wondered what it would be like to be pinned under that thing. Impaled while the cross-blades cut into and held you down. Even now he shuddered at the thought. He could very easily be looking at a possibility of that happening. Slowly, his eyes moved from the spear to the culprit who had so effortlessly plucked it from the display.
Princess Luna met his gaze coolly. Shining swallowed to try and get some moisture back into his throat. Certainly her fur hadn't always been that dark. He definitely would have remembered her mane being ethereal, or her being taller then him. What was her eye-color again?
“Captain Armor,” Her voice jarred him from his stupor, cold and measured, “Thy mouth is ajar.”
Shining Armors teeth clicked as he snapped his jaws closed. “Apologies, your highness, I just didn't expect...” He paused, reconsidered, “An alarm was triggered here, and I came to check what had caused it.”
The Princess raised her brows briefly, looking to the display where the spear had hung for centuries before nodding almost absentmindedly. “Ah, yes. That was Us,” She said, turning her attention back to the spear in her hand “We wanted to see Our Lance again.”
“Your--”
“The Lance of Selene,” She said, her cool blue eyes looked to him again and sent a shiver through Shining Armors body as if the cloth inside his armor had been replaced with ice. “We are Selene.”
Shining Armor said nothing, but Princes Luna seemed to notice the questions that floated across his face and continued. “We created this Lance to help Us fight Discord, the Mad King,” She said, hefting the spear and swinging it slowly as she spoke. The blade whistled as it cut through the air, “We toiled hard to create this weapon, traveling far across the broken and blighted land for the right materials before We were satisfied. We forged it ourselves, while Our moon was full, pouring Our power and righteous anger into the steel. Tempering it in the bones of Our ancestors. This is the result.”
She held it between them as if to illustrate it further for him, as if he were near-sighted. In her grip, the size of it seemed inconsequential. Princess Luna hardly seemed to be hampered—or even notice—the heft or the balance. She moved it as effortlessly as she would a limb.
“In the end it was rather useless,” Princess Luna mused with a bitter smirk, “Celestia discovered the Elements and they were much more effective then Our tools, though We still insisted on using a hammer and chisel to finish the job. Celestia is always one to believe in mercy, however, and Discord was left to his prison.
“It was used in the various conflicts that occurred in the early history of the empire before the eventual treaties were drafted by the other races. It served Us well.”
Shining Armor had relaxed and become rather interested during the short history lesson. He was quite sure Twilight would be ecstatic if she knew there was some untapped history she didn't now about and made a mental note to write to her about it later. As for the current situation, he supposed there was nothing keeping the Royal Sisters from taking down items which belonged to them anyway, and so was willing to write off the whole scenario as a simple misunderstanding of the museums security system not being known by the younger Sister when she spoke up again.
“Tell Us, Captain Armor. Are duels still accepted in today's laws?”
Shining Armor blinked as he digested the question, already not liking what it implied. Still, he nodded, “Yes, your highness, they are.”
“Then We would like to challenge you to a duel.”
The way she spoke was almost as if she had made a statement on the weather. Casual and plain and almost normal if not for the millennial old weapon she still held between them. Shining Armor's mouth moved without sound. He was not a stranger to duels. It was very common for guards to duel each other often, especially unicorns, for bragging rights and as a form of training. As captain, Shining Armor was very nearly honor-bound to accept all invitations to duels that came his way lest his troops start to doubt his ability to perform under battle situations. Still, duel invitations usually came from friends and made use of weighted mock weapons or very specific protective spells, and here was Princess Luna with an enchanted spear that she had just confirmed had spilled blood in the past. He highly doubted she was going to switch it out for a weighted one, and even if she did, he wasn't sure what would happen if he accepted her invitation.
Would his guard lose faith in him if he refused? Would they see him as arrogant if he accepted?
Princess Luna watched his deliberations with an aloof interest before speaking again. “You are worried about accepting a duel from Us,” Her voice was plain, but still he caught a hint of disappointment in her eyes, “We understand thy trepidation. Thou art dismissed, Captain Armor.”
Her eyes moved again to the spear, looking at it with an odd expression before Shining Armor found his voice again.
“Your Highness, I have no sword,” He said and again his teeth clicked when his mouth shut. He hadn't expected to say that, and from the look that passed over Luna's face, neither had she. She held his eyes as her magic reached out again, and this time, Shining Armor was here to be present for the singular moment of the alarms being roused before they were utterly destroyed by the princesses power, fizzling out in a pathetic mewl as the threads of the spell drifted and evaporated in thin tufts of light. Shining Armor's voice again abandoned him when she presented him with a sword.
He needed no history lesson on this one, he had studied it extensively when he was young. Apparently, Celestia had shared his affinity for swords rather then the usual unicorn weapon of maces and had created a few throughout her lifetime. One such blade was now being held out to him almost casually by her sister as if it were a toy to be shared. The metal was bronze and fluted along the length of the curved blade. The hilt was made of ivory, apparently a gift from the griffons from some other time, and was carefully smoothed down around the gold-colored hilt and pommel. It was designed in such a way that Shining Armor knew she had made it personally. Plain and simple, no gilt, no jewels, and only one design in the blade itself, an inscription that read: “Judge Thyself”
There were some schools of thought that theorized as to what the inscription meant, but Shining knew. He had fought in battle before. He had taken lives before, as much as he didn't like to think about it. He remembered sitting inside his tent with his sword in front of him and trembling as he thought about what he had done with it. The inscription was not for Celestia's enemies. The inscription was for herself in those private moments after battle, when the ghosts of the fallen haunted her mind.
How easily had blood been able to pool in those words? How long did Celestia have to meditate on her own judgment as she carefully cleaned away the battle?
He realized with shock, that at some point he had taken the sword into his grip and was examining it. The bronze blade gleamed, untouched by oxidation and carefully polished to a bright shine. He raised his eyes and saw Luna, now a few steps away from him and watching carefully, the spear held beside her and pointed at him almost accusingly. The thought of backing down occurred to him now, but he didn't speak on it. Instead, he raised the sword, tested the weight and balance. Like the spear, it was larger then he was accustomed to, nearly as long as he was, but his training compensated for it easily, and he found that it wasn't terribly difficult to wield. He raised his eyes again, meeting Luna's gaze as he held the sword in front of him, letting out a smooth breath.
There was no countdown or asking if he was ready. She moved and the spear came. Shining Armor moved without having to think about it, and the spear was suddenly beside his face. He twisted the sword in his grasp, pushing the blade to the ground, but she was already gone, moving for a better vantage and lashing at him again.
To call her graceful was an insult. She was something beyond grace, beyond the contrivances of poise and poetic motion. Luna's movements were as beautiful and purposeful as they were natural. Never mind the fact that at the slightest misstep Shining Armor might be skewered or gored, if it had been just her on a stage it would have been classified as the kind of art Cadance would have taken him to see with the excuse of culture. "Come and see," she would say, "Watch how the blade and the shaft and the pommel are used to the utmost in this dance. Look at her face with it's forlorn expression. What do you see, Shiny?"
He saw a soldier. He saw the face of someone who had done this battle so often that it was second nature. He saw pity as well as determination because she knew who would win, and even then she did not rush the battle. It was the grim final lesson to the grunt who thought himself capable of taking down a general.
Determination, professionalism, and a hint of pity and remorse.
It had been all Shining could do to just keep the blade at bay. Ducking the shaft as she twirled the spear like a baton and moving against her when he thought he saw an opening only for his blade to be slapped away. Magic thrummed about them, threads of it dancing through the air and trying to coalesce into forms but to wilt and bow to Luna's presence. Shining Armor knew from the start that this wasn't a battle he was going to win, but he had thought that just maybe he would stand a chance, and yet from the very start he was on the defense, backing away from Luna's beautiful, grim dance.
His sword caught on the cross-guard on the spear, and with a simple hook and twist it went skittering across the ground. Shining Armor's back met the wall and she moved forward. Briefly he felt the kiss of metal move past his neck and in a panicked moment he wondered if he had been decapitated. His breath came hard, and hers came smooth. They were nose to nose now, her eyes boring into his own.
"Your majesty?" A hesitant voice called. Luna didn't turn her head, but Shining Armor glanced over to see one of the Night Guard not too far away. How long the guard had been there he didn't know, but he was almost glad for it when Luna finally pulled away. He heard the sound of the blade coming free of the stones just behind him.
"Thank you, Captain Armor," She said, her tone flat and yet in some sense, he detected emotion in it. She was happy in some small way, that he, captain of Celestia's guard, had dueled with her. Saw her as an equal for the few seconds of their duel, "thou must be fatigued. Retire now, and let Our night see you safely to your abode."
Shining Armor's mouth moved without making a noise before he simply bowed in thanks. He reached for the dropped sword, only to see Luna reverently replacing it into the case it had been taken from. "Good night, your majesty," he murmured through numb lips and was rewarded with her cool gaze and a raising of her chin. Shiny turned and walked past the Night Guard who wore an expression of incredulity and awe, but said nothing.
It was with a start that he realized he was outside. Shining Armor couldn't remember walking down the flights of stairs and out the door of the museum, but the cool night air bit into his coat and above the sky was dark with the flickering starts whispering their stories to those who knew how to listen. How long he stood there going over what had happened in his mind, Shiny didn't know, but he had a feeling that something poignant had happened in those long seconds, and while he had been a participant, he could not understand what it had been.
Finally, Shining Armor turned and started down the street at a brisk pace. Analysis had never been his strong suit, and so he resolved to send a letter to his sister, who would no doubt assail him with theories and conjectures as to what the duel had meant. It would be best to let her think of the why behind the actions, so as to let him worry about the how. In the mean time, Shiny had an impatient fiancee who was waiting for him.
