Ordem e Progresso

by Chocolate Milk

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 9357

A failed Royal Guard cadet is given a difficult choice by a captain of the Night Guard.

After Summer Sirocco's expulsion from the Royal Guard Academy, a captain of the Night Guard offers her an unexpected alternative. The choice: sacrifice her relationships and abandon her identity, or walk away from a singular opportunity to escape the pony she never wanted to be. It dredges up difficult questions of how she sees herself and who she really is—and her answers won't be easy either.

Published 2012-06-12 08:44:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-06-12 08:44:02 UTC

Circumstances and Consequences

Ordem e Progresso
by Chocolate Milk

“Let’s see here,” said an armor-clad unicorn from behind his wooden desk, sighing as the door to his office gained a silvery glow and creaked open. A heavy folder very much at full capacity floated inches away from the lieutenant’s face, and he squinted at the name written across the top. “Summer Siro— oh, uh... S...”

Standing cross-legged at the door, anxiety swirling through her soft eyes of mint green, was a beige earth pony mare in a frayed cadet’s vest. Her hoof shot up to run through her closely cropped, yet amazingly still disheveled mane.

“Sirocco, yes,” she said. “Summer Sirocco. That’s me.”

Summer started through the doorway. “I received a letter saying to come to this office tonight?”

“Yes, that’s right. Please, co—” was as far as he got before looking up at the mare, who had already entered his office. “...come in. Right. Well, take a seat, cadet.”

A few lines formed across the stallion’s forehead, but after indulging in a deep breath his expression promptly returned to its administrative, dispassionate state. “My apologies for asking you to come here at such a late hour,” he said as his gaze shifted towards the sunset shining through his open window.

“I’m Lieutenant Buckler.” Gesturing to his left, he added: “And this is Night Captain Quarrel.”

Whipping her head around to greet the unexpected guest standing in the far corner of the room, she flashed the pony a smile and took her seat across from the lieutenant’s desk. Quarrel, for his part, simply nodded.

“Why’s there a Night Guardspony here?”

Buckler bit his lip. “That will be made clear in a few minutes, cadet.”

“Hm,” said Summer, scratching at the side of her head. “Okay, then.”

The lieutenant’s horn flared and the folder parted, its contents spreading across the table into a thick patchwork of statistics, description and opinion created over the course of Summer Sirocco’s five months at the Royal Guard Academy. After a quick once-over of the documents, he turned his attention to the mare seated in front of him.

“Cadet, I do hope you realize that even applying to become a Royal Guardspony is above and beyond the call of duty for most. To have spent any time at all training in the academy is a sacrifice worthy of respect in its own right. Not everypony has the courage to take on the responsibility of defending Equestria with their life, and your commitment to doing so is truly honorable.”

The air slowly leaked out of Summer’s lungs and through her mouth, a quiet “oh” marking the last of her reserves. It took some effort to fill them up again, and her shoulders quivered under the strain.

The lieutenant looked back at her in silence for a brief moment before clearing his throat. “I am sorry to have to inform you of this, but the decision has been made by your superiors to ask you to resign your place at the academy.”

Summer’s eyes drifted above the lieutenant’s head and lost focus, her hoof bouncing restlessly on the floor.

“This was based solely on the current needs of the organization and should not be considered a personal failure. Instead, you should take this opportunity to find a vocation more suited to your capabilities and prefere—”

“Skyblaze.” Her nostrils flared.

The lieutenant rattled his head and blinked hard. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah. It’s definitely Skyblaze,” she muttered, head upturned and staring at the ceiling. “That mare has had it in for me since day one. Two extra miles every day for the morning canter, just because I was a little late for drills one time in my first week.” Summer’s eyes fell towards the door. “And now she’s getting me kicked out.”

She turned abruptly to face the lieutenant, and he leaned back in his seat. “Hey, Buckler,” she said, pointing her hoof to the files on his desk. “Does it say anything in there about who’s trying to get me kicked out?” She inched forward in her stool and craned her neck towards the desk. “Can you look for a ‘Skyblaze’ in there?”

The reports shone silver and slid in unison away from Summer’s edge of the desk. “Summer, as you are well aware, I will not be discussing with you the decision-making process of your former superior officers.”

“Oh, come on!” she whined, leaning back and throwing her hooves into the air. “It’s not like I don’t know who it is. You can tell me if I’m right at least, can’t you?”

His head dropped to one side. “No, Summer.”

With each passing second her eyes grew wider, her neck craned further, her voice grew higher and louder. “But that’s who’s doing this, isn’t it? You’ve got the papers right there in front of you, you can see who’s doing this!” The room filled with the hissing sound of air being sucked through Summer’s exposed teeth. “It’s that Skyblaze, right? I’m getting kicked out of the Royal Guard and you won’t even tell me why? You won’t even do me that little favor before throwing the last five months of my life in the trash? This is ridiculous! You’re just brushing aside all the time and effort I put in here every day like it doesn’t matter because of a few stupid little unimportant mistakes! And it’s all because that Skyblaze has had some kind of personal vendetta against me since the day I got here! Are you guardsponies even pretending to be basing this on anything important?”

Lieutenant Buckler raised his head and met her gaze with a new glint in his eye. “Summer. Are you asking me to tell you what your file says, or are you asking me to give you my opinion?”

“I don’t know, both!” she shouted. “Either! Anything!”

The switch was as complete as a see saw tipping. Summer shrunk down into her stool with a yelp as the lieutenant stood up and slammed his hooves hard on top of his desk, sending much of the carefully ordered paperwork to the floor.

“Well, I’m going to give you my opinion, Summer.” The lieutenant spoke slowly and quietly, but his words were anything but calm. “I think that in these few minutes you’ve been here in my office, the only misconduct you’ve managed to draw attention to is that which must have taken place when you somehow weaseled your way into the Royal Guard Academy in the first place.” Summer turned away.

“I don’t know who you are, Summer Si-roh-coh—”

“It’s Sirocco,” she growled.

He lowered his head towards the desk until he was at eye-level with her. “I really couldn’t care less what it is. As soon as I saw you standing in that doorway, I could tell that this decision was the right one. I mean, come on. Look at that cadet’s uniform you’re wearing. What do you do, chew on that thing? When was the last time you had it mended? Have you ever?”

“S-So, what, you’re throwing me out because my uniform’s a little messy?”

“Summer, not once in this farce of a meeting have you called me ‘lieutenant’ or ‘sir’. That’s something that a cadet has to do. It isn’t optional.” He snapped a hoof out towards the door and Summer flinched. “And you came right into my office before I gave you permission. You can’t just trot into a superior’s office like that! These are the most basic—”

Papers that had fallen to the floor joined those still on the desk and floated up to the lieutenant’s hardened eyes. “Late for drills. Late for drills. Failed to salute a superior officer.” With each transgression he slapped at the paper with the back of his hoof, and Summer fought to suppress a wince each time. “Failed to complete an assignment. Oh, here’s a new one: absent from drills! Late for class, late for drills, late for dri— do you see a pattern here? Because I think I’m starting to understand exactly how much time and effort you’ve been putting into this!”

Summer watched as the papers—many, many more than the lieutenant had read from—quickly reorganized themselves and returned to the folder lying open in front of her.

“If you’ve actually been trying to do well here, Summer, then it seems to me that you have no personal discipline. None at all. Zero.” He cocked his head. “Or maybe you just aren’t good at following rules.”

Buckler chuckled as he sat back in his chair. “You know, I have no idea what possessed you to think that you could be a Royal Guardspony. But I sincerely hope that this ‘Skyblaze’ pony you keep talking about has drilled that silly goal right out of your defiant little head. Because let me tell you something: it’s not going to happen in this lifetime, Summer.”

Summer felt like a vice had tightened around her neck, and her eyes burned. Every time Sgt. Skyblaze singled her out, every time she woke up with a half-finished essay for a pillow, every time she overheard somepony talking about how much easier the academy was than they had thought it was going to be, Summer would turn to logic. “If the Royal Guard didn’t think I was good enough,” she would tell herself, “I wouldn’t be here.” Now, the best she could do was keep as much of the rising tide from the shore as possible—choke it down into a hot and humid place within her, more out of courtesy than dignity.

Summer thought of the pony who would have been accepted to the academy had she never applied in the first place. “I’m sorry, lieutenant,” she mumbled.

He brought his hooves back down to the hardwood floor. “Yes, well, you don’t need to call me by rank any more, Summer.” A few sheets of paper from across the room flew past the unblinking pony in the corner and hung in the air beside the lieutenant. “Night Captain Quarrel has requested to speak with you in private. Close the door behind you when he’s done.”

Trotting around his desk, the lieutenant stopped just before passing by a newly-minted civilian staring at the floorboards, her two front hooves behind her neck.

“Thank you for your service,” he spat.

After the third minute of utter silence, Summer began to fidget and squirm.

“Do you know what just happened?” the guardspony asked her from his corner.

Summer looked up. “I’m really sorry, uh, night captain, but could you please repeat that?”

“It’s just ‘captain’. Adding ‘night’ is a Royal Guard thing. Anyway, I asked you if you know why you just got kicked out of the academy.”

“I’m sorry, captain, but I... I really don’t know.” Her eyes fell back to the floor. “I just wasn’t good enough, I guess.”

“You got the boot because you’re trying to be somepony you’re not.”

Summer brought her whole head up this time. “I’m sorry, captain?”

“Why did you become a cadet?”

“W-Well, I wanted to help defend Equestria.”

“Oh, please. You know that’s no answer. You could have joined a police force, or a neighborhood watch, or been a security guard, too. Why the Royal Guard, Summer?”

Summer closed her eyes tightly and slumped further towards the floor. “It’s stupid, really.”

“Hey, you’ve already been kicked out, haven’t you? There’s no reason for you not to tell me.”

She brought a hoof to the back of her neck and scratched at her short mane. “I thought if I joined up it’d force me to learn some discipline.”

The guardspony sighed and shook his head. “See, there’s your mistake, Summer. The Royal Guard doesn’t teach order, they demand it. They’re designed to be predictable, uniform, and efficient. They set rules, and you follow them. You do not ask questions.”

Summer didn’t feel like Quarrel’s tone matched what he was saying. It sounded to her like he was drawing his words from something both important and distant, its edges frayed by age and overuse, rather than reciting a few cheap observations.

“But you can’t make yourself fit that mold. You either do or you don’t. And you don’t, Summer.” She inched her head to the right and glanced at her flank.

“Ah, yes. It’s that cutie mark of yours, isn’t it? A palm tree, blowing in the breeze. That’s you, Summer. You were born to live a carefree life.” She scowled at him. He replied with a smile.

“That said, we keep an eye on the Royal Guard Academy’s cadets, and we think there’s... something else there.” Summer’s ears pricked up and she leaned forward in her stool. The smile stretched a bit further across the guardspony’s face.

“You aren’t quite comfortable in your own skin, are you, Summer?” he remarked, shaking his hoof in Summer’s direction. “And guess what? We like that. So we have a proposition for you.”

With a completely unexpected quickness, Quarrel slipped out from his corner and stopped directly in front of Summer, who nearly toppled over on her stool, clutching at her chest and taking short, shallow breaths.

“Heh. Sorry.”

From this close, she could see firsthoof all the little peculiarities of the Night Guardspony: the tiny, needle-like teeth that poked out from the sides of his muzzle, the featherless bat-wings folded against his sides, and of course those blaring headlights and their black, slitted pupils.

“U— uh... no problem, sir,” she croaked. She set her jaw and took a deep breath. “Hey, um, captain?”

“Yeah?”

She looked up at him through wide eyes. “What was that proposition you were going to tell me about?”

“Oh, yeah. That.” Quarrel wiped at his grinning mouth with his foreleg. “We would like for you to join us, Summer. We want to make you a Night Guardspony.”

For a long time, Summer waited in silence. Then: “I don’t understand.”

The captain tapped at his chin. “Right, I guess you wouldn’t. Not many ponies understand that we aren’t born like... this,” he said, with a prolonged stretch of his skin-bound wings.

More silence.

“Let me put it this way: If you choose to accept our offer, you will be changed. You’ll get wings like these, and you’ll be able to see in the dark. You’ll even get a little bit of offensive magic—frost spells, fire, that sort of thing.”

At that moment she noticed her head had been slowly swinging left and right, and she put her hooves to her cheeks to hold it in place. “But, I... I still don’t get it, captain. Why would you pick somepony like me for this?”

“Oh, I’m not finished, Summer. There are deeper transformations than the superficial that take place here. The spell that changes you will give your personality a little... tweak.” Summer’s heart leapt into double-time.

“It pulls out your deepest frustrations and focuses them, so that you can overcome them. You, for example, would probably come out of it with some discipline.” He brought his hoof in front of his face and stared at it. “It isn’t too much of a stretch to say that you become something of a different pony. I know I did.”

“A... different pony?”

“That’s right. A lot of things change. You go nocturnal, for one. And if you’re anything like me,” he added with a blink—the first one Summer had seen him take, “you’ll lose touch with friends and family before long.” Summer’s mind turned to thoughts of her friends. She remained silent.

“Still, I did it. I wasn’t happy with who I was either. And that was the right reason for me, Summer. I’d never take it back. So if you want my opinion, there’s only one thing you need to ask yourself.” The captain moved in further and bored into her with shining globes of gold. She struggled to make eye contact, squinting against the light from his gaze.

“Would you like to be a different pony?” he asked.

Summer felt a deep chill run down her spine, and her whole body shivered with the question’s coldness. She stared back at the guardspony, teeth clenched tightly behind her firmly pressed-together lips. It took every ounce of her strength to keep her legs from shaking.

Summer couldn’t deny that the offer was appealing. But her dreams weren’t important right now. None of her friends would accept this, and she couldn’t let them down. She closed her eyes and drew a breath.

The captain, adding teeth to his grin, pounded his back hoof against the table behind him and startled the air right back out of Summer’s lungs. “Good! I’m glad you haven’t answered yet. That means you’re thinking about it.”

“Uh, what?”

“Most of the ex-cadets we approach just reject it without a moment’s hesitation, you know. You’ve already thought about it more than most. So why don’t you think about it some more? You have a week to make your choice, Summer. Make it count.”

And before Summer could manage to force out one miserable syllable, the Night Guardspony was enveloped in an unnatural shadow that reached up from the floorboards and whisked him away.

Summer wasn’t born in Equestria. Back when she was among the littlest of fillies, her father had decided to relocate the family—that is, her and Mommy—from the tropical country of her birth to a small city called Albaneigh. Summer’s grasp of her foalhood memories was weak, but she remembered bits and pieces. Mommy and Daddy were always so tired at the end the day. Sometimes they’d even go to sleep before she did, which was scary. And it was hard work for her, too, even just playing with the other foals from school. She didn’t really know what her new classmates were saying most of the time, and it felt to her like the opposite was true as well.

One night in the second month of the family’s new life in Equestria, Mr. Sirocco stopped coming home. Mommy had tried to shield her only daughter from a reality far too harsh for such a little filly: Daddy’s working late, sweetie; Daddy’s boss asked him to work the weekend, dearie; Daddy’s away on business.

There was no real break or snap to speak of—or, at least, Summer didn’t remember one. But the fabrication had turned on the fabricator early on. And over time, the well-intentioned deceit was distorted into a belief. By the time that Summer had reached an age where the truth would have been manageable for a filly, even for the best, it had proven itself unmanageable for Mom.

Within a week of finishing her very last day of school and with the freedom of marehood in her sights, Summer found the courage to say what she had feared saying for years.

“Hi, dearie, I missed you! Hey, what do you think Daddy’s going to want for dinner when he gets back from Fillydelphia?” her mother had asked her, just as Summer was returning from a night out with some friends. “I want to make sure I’ve got all the ingredie—”

“Mom, no.”

“What’s the matter, dearie?”

Summer put her hooves on her mom’s shoulders and stared hard into her eyes. “Mom, listen to me. Please.” She tried to stop her knees from shaking.

“Goodness, honey, what has gotten into you?”

“Dad is not coming home, Mom. He isn’t coming home.” She searched her mother’s eyes. “Dad is gone.”

Mrs. Sirocco took a step back and laughed with motherly confidence. “Oh, Summer, he’s just off on a business trip! Don’t worry, honey, he—”

Summer’s heart gave an especially hard pump and her eyes widened. Mom’s head was tilted to one side, a touch of confusion unsettling the center of her brow like a pebble dropped into a lake. “...he’ll be home... soon?”

“He’s not coming back!” she cried. “He’s never going to come back, Mom! Please, listen to me! Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he doesn’t love us anymore. But it’s been years since he disappeared, Mom! He’s not coming back!”

Her mother’s gaze slid downward. Slowly, she shook her her head, her jaw trembling as she spoke. “S... S-Summer...” she stammered out, “oh, Summer...”

“Please, Mom...” she said softly, moving to embrace her.

And in a moment that Summer had never been able to forget, Mrs. Sirocco’s neck snapped straight upwards, narrowed eyes replacing the thoughtful, weary ones that had given her daughter so much senseless hope.

“H-How could you say those things about your father, Summer! How hard he works for us! He l-loves us!”

Summer stumbled back a few steps. Mrs. Sirocco strode forward.

“Y-You go to your room right now, Summer! I don’t ever want to hear you speaking that way about your father again!”

Summer turned away. She wiped the wetness from her eyes with the side of her leg and whispered a reply through her gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry, Mom. You won’t.”

Her face burning, Summer moved slowly up the stairs and to her room. She brought her saddlebag over to her bed and threw in a few books and some toiletries. A short while after the last light went out in the house, Summer took all of the bits from Mrs. Sirocco’s purse and dropped them into her saddlebag as well. Then, with a deep breath, she pulled open the front door and stepped out.

And just as she’d requested, Mrs. Sirocco never heard her daughter speak that way about her father again.

“Oh, no! That’s terrible, Summer!”

Summer sat curled around an olive-colored cushion on her dorm room floor and reluctantly accepted her roommate’s sympathy. Zephyr was the sort of pony who was born to be in the Royal Guard: a tall, beautiful pegasus mare raised in privilege, with azure eyes and a pin-straight, navy blue mane that she would have kept short even without the academy’s rules on mane length. Summer still couldn’t understand why somepony like Zephyr would choose to be friends with an underachieving cadet like herself. But even she had to fall upon good luck from time to time, she reasoned.

“It’s okay, Zeph. I’ll... well, just, please don’t worry about me too much, all right?”

“You know I’m always here for you, don’t you? You can talk to me about anything.”

Summer looked up at her. “Hey, Zeph?”

“Hm?”

She cleared her throat. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about.

Zephyr knelt down beside her friend. “What is it, Summer?” she asked, nuzzling the side of her face.

Summer’s mind buzzed with doubts. “Zephyr, t-they asked me to join the Night Guard.”

Zephyr’s ears flicked upright and she drew her neck up straight. “How... how does tha—”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. They use some kind of transformation magic or something.” Summer told her what little she knew about the process: how it would change her appearance, how it would alter her personality, how she feared what it would do to her relationships.

“That’s completely ridiculous. Why the hay would they think you’d want any part of something like that?”

A pained expression crossed Summer’s face, and she chewed on her lip.

“Oh, Summer... but why?” Zephyr asked, her voice flying upwards to reach shockingly high notes. “Everypony loves you, Summer!”

“ ‘Loves me’, Zeph?” she replied with a sideways glance. “No. Everypony thinks I’m fun to be around. But how many of them really believe I’m going to do something with my life?” Summer closed her eyes. “Not even I believe that.”

Zephyr placed her leg around Summer’s back. “No, no, Summer; that’s not what I mean at all. You’re so easygoing and caring, you know? You’re like a breath of fresh air. You could do so much good for Equestria if you embraced that about yourself. It’s your cutie mark, after all. Shade in the desert. That’s you, Summer.”

Summer felt her ears grow hot. “Come on, Zeph, you know I hate my cutie mark. Why would you bring that up?”

“Well, I think it’s wonderful. You should find a job out there that makes full use of it.”

“Zeph,” she called, a bit louder than was necessary, “you’ve always wanted to be a part of the Royal Guard, and you have a cutie mark that’s a pike. Can you see how my situation’s a little different? What am I going to do with a palm tree, Zeph, sing standards at the Caballo Cabana for the rest of my life?”

“Well, you do have a lovely singing voice...”

“Zephyr!”

“Oh, lighten up. I was just joking!”

Zephyr started giggling. Then she stopped. Summer’s head was down, her hooves over her eyes, each exhalation louder than the last. She was not laughing.

“Oh... oh, Summer, I’m sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood—it was a stupid joke. I’m sorry, Summer.” Zephyr moved closer and nuzzled her, and for a long time neither spoke.

“I haven’t made a decision yet, Zeph.”

“That’s good. Take your time.”

Summer looked back at her friend. “Do you know how I got my cutie mark, Zeph?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“I... cut school and went to the beach with some friends.”

Zephyr waited patiently for her friend to finish.

“...And that’s it,” Summer murmured. “It just showed up when we got to the beach.”

“Wow.”

“I had to lie to my teacher about how I got it.”

“I’m really sorry, Summer. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s all right, Zeph. You didn’t know. It’s just... I don’t want to be alive just to whittle away a few decades and die, you know? I want to do something.”

“Yeah.” Zephyr cast her eyes to the floor and bit her lip, nodding her head. “I get that.”

It was hard for a mare just weeks out of school to care for herself without the help of her parents, but Summer got by well enough. She’d crash at friends’ houses until their parents’ sympathy had run dry, and then lather, rinse, repeat. Yet Summer had a limited number of friends. Thus, within a year of setting off on her own, she found herself in nearby Canterlot, roommates and landlords replacing friends and their parents.

On an especially busy afternoon waiting tables, as she was taking a customer’s order, she noticed an open book face-down on the table: Don’t Be Yourself: You’re Better Than That!

But it wasn’t the title that had grabbed her attention. On the cover was a smiling, tan earth pony stallion with a slicked-back, graying mane. Stylish glasses framed a pair of familiar mint green eyes.

But Summer had bills to pay. She gave her head a rough shake, and set back to work.

Packing in the last of his enormous salad, the customer dropped four bits on the table and wobbled his way to the exit, the book poking out from within his saddlebag. Summer saw the bloated stallion through the corner of her eye just as the front door slammed shut, and with a small pout of determination trotted after him.

“Excuse me,” she said, “would you mind showing me that book for a second?”

According to the author’s bio, ‘Desert Wind’ had been a successful bit-trader for Neighman Brothers before leaving the firm to found a small self-help and motivational speaking empire. This was his first published work. He lived in Manehattan with his wife, Candy. Candy.

In light of her discovery, Summer had asked her boss for an immediate week off. But his understandable need to hear a reason for the request, combined with Summer’s refusal to give him one, put the two somewhat at odds. So with an amiable smile on her face, Summer quit.

“Destination?” sighed the pony from behind his frosted glass window.

“Manehattan, round trip” she said. Summer pulled a few days’ tips out from her saddlebag and tapped each one with her hoof. “Uh, make that one-way.”

Summer knocked on the door to a tiny house on the outskirts of Canterlot, a light rain dampening her coat and mane. There was no real reason for her to worry about this late-night meeting, but two days had done little to dull the sting from Lieutenant Buckler’s remarks. And though Summer appreciated her efforts, Zephyr’s complete lack of experience with failure and uncertainty did not make empathy and support her strong suits.

“Coming!”

Summer smoothed down her frazzled mane as the door handle glowed a deep crimson.

The door swung open, and the unicorn inside reared back and threw his front legs open wide. “Summer!”

Summer was beaming. She stepped into the little house and into the unicorn’s embrace.

“My goodness, what time is it? Don’t you have drills in the morning?” he asked.

“I missed you, dear.”

“You’re a little wet, hon,” he said, taking a step back and rubbing his cheek. “Should I get you a towel?”

“Nope. But you might want one for yourself.”

Summer flashed her coltfriend an impish look, and then shook her short, wet mane as hard as she could.

“Ahh!” The unicorn winced away and flung his leg over Summer’s back, falling to the floor and bringing her with him. The two looked at each other, soaked and sprawled out on the peach-colored carpet, and burst out laughing.

Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, the colt got back up, put a hoof around his mare’s back, and helped her up before giving her a playful nip on the muzzle. “I missed you too, Summer.”

She was home.

There are a few couples in Equestria that are simply picture-perfect. Ponies see them from afar—maybe eating dinner together at a nice restaurant, or out for a trot together just before sundown—and find themselves stricken by how right they seem to be together.

Summer Sirocco and Placket were not one of those couples. In a high school setting, their relationship would have been unthinkable. Summer was a cute, approachable mare, whereas Placket had drawn the unfortunate end of the genetic stick, bearing the purple mane of his mother and the burgundy coat of his father. He’d never had much trouble sleeping, and yet he carried bags under his eyes thick enough to show through his dark coloration. And despite his best efforts, he remained just as lanky a stallion as he had been a colt. But while it was true that Summer had never found herself with much physical attraction to her coltfriend, they worked as a couple anyway.

It took a mare like Summer to bring out the best in Placket. Without a playful special somepony in his life, he’d have long since reverted to the tried-and-tested coping mechanisms of his youth: focusing on work and quietly justifying his loneliness as a cost of living. They were both acutely aware of how much happier he was because of her. And she reveled in his obvious need.

In the back row of a brightly-lit Manehattan auditorium, young Summer Sirocco watched in pained silence as the stallion bounding back and forth across the stage played his audience like a well-tuned harp. They stamped their hooves and yelled and cheered and chanted along each time he repeated one of his signature platitudes.

“Be the you that you want to be!” he said together with the crowd. “Never settle for what you have. You want to be doing something else with your life? Then what do you do, fillies and gentlecolts?”

“Go do it!” the audience roared.

Summer gasped.

“That’s right! Go do it!”

As the seminar drew to a close, the audience transformed itself into a mob, frantically waving books, photographs, posters, pens and cameras at the star of the show as he made his way down the stairs along the side of the stage. And the stallion obliged, smiling for photos and signing everything that made its way in front of him. It was a difficult task for a mouth-writing earth pony, but he was not without practice.

One particular copy of his book caught his eye. Such a slender set of beige hooves held it that he simply had to see the face of the mare they belonged to. Following them upwards, his eyes were indeed led to a beautiful young face.

“You lookin’ for an autograph, honey?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t get anything out. She nodded instead.

“Hey, now, don’t be nervous. I don’t bite.”

He took the book from her and balanced it on one hoof, his eyes never straying from the mare. He tilted his head as he inspected her a bit more closely. “Have you come to one of these before? I could just swear I recognize you from somewhere.”

She shook her head. One of her knees buckled.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, now, isn’t there?” he said, charisma dripping from his chemically whitened teeth like venom. He turned his attention to the book, and gestured to one of his bodyguards for a marker. “So, what’s your name?”

Silence.

The stallion’s mint green eyes peered out from over his stylish glasses. “I need to know who I’m making this out to, don’t I? What’s your name, dear?”

“S-Summer,” she stammered.

Mr. Sirocco raised his head and stared heavily into her eyes. His pupils tightened and he refused to blink. Smile still smeared across his face, he leaned over to her ear.

“This is some stunt you’re pulling, Summer. How much is it going to cost me for you to stay away from me and the tabloids?”

Summer went cold. “What? N-No! Da—”

He threw his head back and burst into spontaneous laughter, his eyes darting around to survey the crowd. He pulled Summer in closer.

“If you blow this for me you get nothing,” he growled through his false grin. “So why don’t you just tell me how much you want and we can go our separate ways.”

Summer swallowed hard. “T-That’s not why I’m here!” she whispered. “I would never do something like that!”

Mr. Sirocco shook his lowered head. His eyes brightened and his shoulders bounced along to a breathy chuckle. “Summer, Summer, Summer.”

She smiled. “I didn’t come here for bits. I just want m—”

“All right, sorry, everypony,” he said aloud, turning his back to her. “Looks like I’m late for another seminar!” Summer stumbled backwards in shock as the crowd responded with groans of disappointment and disapproval.

“Come back next week and I’ll be sure to leave some extra time at the end for you ponies! Remember: if you’d rather be doing something else with your life...”

“Go do it!” the audience cheered.

He turned and spoke to a burly stallion in a dark gray suit, and within ten seconds he’d been rammed past the crowd and through a doorway to the left of the stage.

Summer stayed put and fought the creeping nausea as the crowd dispersed around her, surrounded by photos, pamphlets and books bearing the happy face of the pony whose identity she could no longer deny.

“I just want my dad,” she said to nopony.

She would rather have found him dead. She would rather have found him a broken pony, sparing his former family from the depths of his Joke addiction or alcoholism. But never settle for what you have was what he had said up there on his stage. It was a lesson he could only have taught himself in an abandoned life, discontented with his job and his wife. Discontented with his little filly. So he traded her in for a trophy wife and a taste of fame and fortune. And he seemed to be happier for it.

Summer’s eyes slowly filled and tears tipped out from the corners; the few jaded Manehattanites who had yet to leave the auditorium didn’t give her so much as a second thought. She was broke in a cold, aggressive city, with no way of getting back to Canterlot. She had no friends in Manehattan. She had no job and no job prospects anywhere. She had no parents. She had no life.

“Is there a Summer out here?” bellowed a burly stallion on stage, surveying the room. His eyes met hers. “Hey, you there!”

He cantered down the steps of the stage and stopped directly in front of Summer. If he had noticed her reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks, he showed no sign of caring.

“This is from Desert Wind.” The stallion extended a hoof, balancing five ten-bit coins on top. “He says, ‘just in case.’ ”

Summer stared at the coins, her tears bubbling into seething hatred. “Get that out of my face!” she hissed, smacking away the hoof and sending the bits clattering to the floor. “Tell ‘Desert Wind’ he can kiss his reputation goodbye!”

...Or, rather, that was the scenario that ran through Summer’s head. But she was broke in a cold, aggressive city. She had no way of getting back to Canterlot.

Summer’s eyes were tethered to the floor. She reached out and swept the bits into her saddlebag. “Thank you,” she whimpered, before shuffling out into the city’s brash lights. Her shoulders had never felt heavier.

Every month since, the mailmare brought her a thick, brown envelope containing five ten-bit coins, and Summer would drop them all into a jar she kept just for them. Summer didn’t spend the bits in that jar.

“Mmm, this is delicious,” she said, sipping the rich coffee she held between her hooves as she lay on a cushion in front of the couch. “Thank you, Plackie.”

Seated above her on the couch, Placket brought a hoof down to her forehead and brushed away a stray hair of her mane that hung between her eyes. “Anything for you, hon.”

Summer looked up at him, and the pair sat in easy, comfortable silence.

“You never did tell me why you’re here so late, dear. It’s nearly midnight.”

She looked away. “Hm? Oh, I just missed you, Plackie.” She could tell him about the academy on another night.

“I know how you feel. To go from living together to just weekends... it’s been pretty tough, hasn’t it?”

Summer turned her head and peered through the window at the nearly starless night. Large beads of rain thwacked against the panes of glass. “Yeah,” she said, shaking away thoughts of a new life. “It has.” Summer placed the mug at her side and crawled up to the couch.

“I still don’t think I’ll ever understand why you decided to join the Royal Guard. Can’t say I saw that one coming. But I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Plackie,” she said, turning and flashing him a weak smile before looking out of the window once more.

“You’re following your dreams, my love. There’s nothing more admirable than that.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and rested his head on her shoulder.

“And it’s only for a little while, after all. Two years isn’t so long. Then you’ll come back to me here and move back in again and everything’ll be perfect.”

The corners of Summer Sirocco’s mouth turned upwards. But she was not smiling.

“Then—way, way in the future someday—maybe we’ll get married, Summer. Maybe we’ll get married and we can settle down and move out of the city, somewhere rustic and quiet, or how about somewhere beachy? We could raise a few foals, even. Have a nice, little family, in our nice, little beach house. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, dear?”

Summer did not respond. Her eyes were fixed on the window.

“Honey?”

Summer sat still.

“Honey, I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” He took his head off of her shoulder. “I’m not— uh, I mean, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, Placket?”

“Summer, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he breathed, drawing his hoof up to her cheek. She winced at his touch and he withdrew, his eyes welling up.

“If you didn’t mean anything by it,” she breathed, “why did you say it?”

“Honey!” he cried. Summer’s head snapped around, and she shot him a look of such anger and authority that he retreated backwards on the couch.

“H-Honey. We’ve been together for so long, now. I was just thinking out loud.”

“Oh, were you? Why haven’t I heard these thoughts before, then?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward with hunched shoulders. “Is this the first time you’ve thought about this perfect little happy family you’ve apparently got planned for us?”

Her eyes lost their hardened edge, and her voice began to crack. “Is this what you want from me, Placket, t-to be your doting wife, rooted at home, taking care of a little filly by myself and wasting my life away trying to figure out what you’ll want for dinner when you get back from your business trip?”

Placket waved his hooves in front of his face. “What? Summer, what are you talking about?”

She backed two steps towards the door. “No. No. This isn’t... this isn’t right.”

“Summer? Summer, where are you going?”

“Is this how it’s always been? Is this just...” Palm trees sprouted into her mind. “When did you start thinking we were going to get married and have foals together?”

“Summer, please, I neve—”

“When?”

Her eyes dug into his, and a new silence snaked its way into the room.

“I honestly don’t remember, Summer. A while ago.”

The mare took two more slow steps back, her glare weakening until she had completely lost focus. Now she understood why he needed her. She was his future wife. A palm tree, rooted at home along the coastline. That was Summer.

Suddenly, everything in the house was a threat. The peach-colored carpet. The empty mug at the foot of the couch. The wide-eyed unicorn inching towards her.

“N-No. No, I-I can’t stay here,” she stammered. “I have to go!”

She whirled around, yanked the door open with her teeth and ran outside.

“Summer! Wai—”

Amid the relentless hush of torrential rain crashing upon the Canterlot cobblestone, Summer could scarcely hear her name being called by the unicorn chasing after her.

“Summer!” he called. “Summer, wait!”

Fear forced her head down and pushed her to gallop harder. She had let him get too close, and his opinions weighed heavily on the scales of her identity.

So she galloped, her muscles burning and her heart pounding, fighting for every extra inch of distance from Placket and his dreams: A nice, little family in our nice, little beach house. For every second of distraction from the lieutenant’s words that refused to leave her alone: It’s not going to happen in this lifetime, Summer. For every drop of sweat to be washed away in the driving rain, each taking with it a trace of her father’s cruel calculation: How much is it going to cost me for you to stay away from me?

“Summer, wait!” came the distant cry. “I love you!”

And at that moment, Summer’s eyes fell upon stars, shining in some far-flung part of Equestria where rain was not falling. Their positions were set in the sky, even as she galloped as fast as she could. And though the clouds obscured them, Summer knew that countless more were just above her, each one fixed in its place.

Placket loved her. That was real. She couldn’t blame him for doing so in the only way he understood. And she couldn’t condemn the Royal Guard for judging her by the standards she’d so recklessly submitted herself to, either. But with eyes up there in her distant, indifferent, objective sky, she found a simple truth among its stars: they were both wrong. They were all wrong. And she needed something new, something that was her own.

Summer fell back into a canter, and then a trot. Then, with a shake of her head, she turned around.

Placket slowed to a stop just in front of her, completely drenched from head to toe and wheezing with each breath. “Suh— Summer, I...”

“Placket,” she said, responding to his worry with a somber warmth that held him silent. “Please, just listen.” Placket’s frantic eyes met her weary ones.

“There’s something I need to do,” she said, raising her voice over the deafening rainfall, “and it isn’t because of you or anypony else. It’s because of me. It’s a fresh start.”

She closed her eyes. “There are times when I’ve been happy and content.” A pensive smile played upon her lips. “Sometimes I’ve been really happy.”

Summer fought the rain to look up at the stars, and imagined them watching her from behind the clouds. “But this life is the product of other ponies, Plackie. I need a life that I choose for myself.”

She took two steps forward and put her hooves behind his back. “Plackie, you’ll probably never see me again.” His shoulders jerked upwards, and Summer felt her heart fall into her stomach. “And if you do, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.”

Placket’s breathing quickened again. “Summer, whatever I did, I’m so sor—”

A beige hoof pressed itself against his lips, and she brought her mouth to his ear. “Go find a special somepony who loves you for the right reasons,” she said, just above a whisper. “Okay, Plackie? I’ve let you prop me up for too long. You deserve better. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. And...

“I love you, too.”

As the city’s violent reds and rich blues bled out from store windows and into the rain, Summer pulled Placket into a final, breathless embrace. If either was crying, neither could possibly have known.

Mom,

This will be a short letter.

I’m writing to tell you that I’m joining the Night Guard. What this means for you is probably nothing. We don’t speak to each other now, and I won’t speak to you afterwards. But I feel like I ought to say goodbye.

You should know I’ve tried to get you help. I’ve spoken to more doctors than I can remember. But you eat, you sleep, you bathe, you even have a job. Nopony believes me when I tell them that you’re sick, Mom. I’ve been keeping some bits in a jar and saving them in the hope that someday you’d have a moment of clarity and ask for me to help you. I’m not sure what I’ll do with them, now.

I’m nothing like you, Mom. I’m not willing to accept a life that isn’t mine or an identity I’ve given too many others too much control over. But I’m not my father, either. That’s why I’m writing to say goodbye; to give you my thanks for the things you did manage to do for me; and to remind you that I will always be your daughter, and that even if I don’t like you, even if I will never forgive you for a childhood spent taunting me with a terrible lie, I will always, always love you.

—S

“Does it hurt?”

“What if I told you it does?”

“I’d still do it.”

“You didn’t even ask how much.”

“I’d still do it,” she repeated, turning to face the captain.

Quarrel pulled his lips back into a toothy grin. “It doesn’t hurt, Summer. Don’t worry.” Summer looked back towards the castle.

By the light of the moon, captain and civilian trotted through the tall, iron gateway that surrounded the estate of Canterlot Castle. With each hoof that fell upon the pristine brick walkway, the castle rose higher and higher above her.

“Which one is it?” she asked.

“That one,” he replied, taking to his wings briefly to gesture towards a two-tone spire of gold with a black spiral running top-to-bottom, a small silver orb resting upon its point.

Summer and Quarrel stepped through the castle’s titanic marble archway and into its emptied Great Hall, weakly lit by the traces of moonlight that barely made it through the hall’s dark stained glass. The beating of hooves against stone echoed through the hall, out of sync with the beating she heard in her ears and felt in her chest. Summer clenched her teeth.

The two worked their way up the wide set of stairs before them and, upon reaching the main landing, the long and winding staircase to their right. By the time they had reached the delicately carved, wooden door at the top, adrenaline was the only thing keeping Summer on her hooves. Quarrel slammed his hoof against the door three times.

“Come in,” called a mare’s muffled voice.

The guardspony grabbed the iron ring pull at the side of the door, twisted it, and then forced the door open with his shoulder. The giant structure slowly gave way.

Behind it was a room of blues and violets and darkness thick enough to hide the walls from Summer’s eyes. The faint light that shone through the opened door revealed the floor near the entrance to be made of gray stone. And in the middle of the darkness, lit by two tall torches of cobalt flame, stood the great Princess of the Night; her star-speckled, midnight mane caught the light from the flame and took on an indigo sheen as it billowed and flowed at her back.

Summer froze in her place.

“This is where you bow,” said the captain, and Summer hastily complied, her wide eyes shooting to the floor.

“P-Princess Luna, Your Majesty, forgive me,” she said. “It’s an honor.”

Luna lowered her head and smiled. “Please, come in.”

Summer crossed—hoof by trembling hoof—through the darkness of the room. She stopped and bowed again.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” said Luna, placing her hoof on the shaking mare’s shoulder. “It’s just the first time.”

“Your M-Majesty, I’m sorry but, I— I don’t quite understand why I’m here.”

Luna shot a glance at the captain. “You didn’t explain it to her, Quarrel?”

The guardspony’s bright, wide eyes grew even wider, and he slapped his hoof against the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry, Your Majesty.”

Luna took a moment to shake her head and breathe a heavy sigh. Then, refocusing on Summer, her smile returned immediately.

“Summer Sirocco, right?”

Summer’s eyes gleamed. “Princess...”

“Mhm?”

“Princess, you know my name! You even pronounced it right!”

“How else would anypony pronounce it?” she replied with a wink.

A giddy grin burst across Summer’s face. Her shoulders lost their hunch, and her back stretched and straightened.

“Anyway, Summer, you’re here because the Night Guard transformation spell isn’t an easy one. It’s really only my sister and I who can do it, and she has to try a few times before it works. You don’t want to see what happens when it doesn’t work. But it’s usually fixable. Usually fixable.”

The smile faded. “Wh— what?”

Luna’s eyes widened and she again placed her hoof on Summer’s shoulder. “No, no, no, Summer. I’m sorry. That was a little joke.” Turning again to her captain, the princess scolded him. “I told you she wouldn’t find it funny, Quarrel.”

The guardspony, a hoof over his mouth and cheeks full to bursting with air, dabbed at his watering eyes with the corners of his wings. “Sorry again, Your Majesty,” he forced through swallowed laughter.

“I apologize for him, Summer. This is how the Night Guard likes to welcome their new recruits.” She rolled her eyes.

But Summer too had her hoof over her mouth, trying and failing to hold back her own giggles. “Actually, that was a good one, Your Majesty! Who knew a princess could have such a sense of humor?”

Luna’s indigo cheeks went purple. “Oh! Well, I— thank you, Summer!”

Summer brought her hoof back down to the stone floor. Her smile had come back in full force, and her eyes had a special crinkle in the corners. “Don’t mention it, Princess. I give credit where credit is due. And don’t be too mad at the captain, either,” she added. “He was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Okay, it was pretty funny,” Luna conceded, before abruptly shaking her head and loudly clearing her throat.

“Yes, well, I’m happy to see that you’re in good spirits, Summer. But there’s one more thing I must ask of you.”

Summer took in a full, quick breath. “Anything, Princess.”

“The Night Guard transformation is not reversible,” Luna said, the tone of her voice distinctly lowered. “I need to know that you aren’t making a mistake.” Summer nodded.

Princess Luna blinked deliberately, and stared into Summer’s eyes. “Why are you going through with this, Summer?”

Summer returned Luna’s stare. “It’s really very simple, Princess. I’ve given too many ponies a say in how I see myself, and I need a fresh start. That’s it.”

Luna lowered her head to Summer’s eye level and examined her, lips pressed tightly together. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Lines formed between Luna’s eyes. “I... I’m not so sure about that one, Summer. You’re giving up all your friends and family just because you want a fresh start? That... um... isn’t a very good reason.”

Summer shook her head. “No, Princess. You’re wrong.”

Luna drew herself to full height and ruffled her wings against her back. “I’m sorry?”

Her gaze held strong. “Maybe you’d have a point if I were a mother, Princess. But I’m not. I’m Summer Sirocco, and I don’t belong to anypony but myself.”

She motioned to Quarrel. “You and the Night Guard made this offer to me. That was your choice. The decision to take it is my choice. And the only pony’s judgment that matters in that choice is mine. It’s not you who needs to know that I’m not making a mistake; it’s me. And I’m convinced.”

Summer straightened herself and looked up at Luna. “So I appreciate the offer, Your Majesty, and I’m going to take it. For my own reasons. To meet my own standards. Because I’m my own mare, Princess, and this is my right.”

Luna sighed as her wings resettled themselves, and she and Quarrel gave each other a quick glance. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her hoof up to the side of her head. “Well,” she said, “it does seem as though you’ve put a lot of thought into this. What do you think, Quarrel?”

The captain blinked. “Can’t really argue with that, can you, Your Majesty?”

Luna let her head drop. “No. I suppose not.”

Her eyes flicked open and fixed themselves on the recruit. “I really can’t endorse your decision, Summer. But I will respect it.” The princess took a step forward. “As you said, the decision is your own. I just hope you’ve made the right one.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Well then, Summer Sirocco, are you ready?”

She took a long, slow breath. “I am.”

Luna brought her head low to the ground and pointed her horn directly at Summer. And as a flare of violet light slowly built across the length of it, Summer surprised herself. Without thinking, she whispered a quote that both brought a smile to her face and shocked her heart into skipping a beat:

Never settle for what you have, Summer. Never settle for what you have.

Acknowledgments:

Very special thanks to Uma for working with me through every step of—and in all facets of—the editing process, but especially with bringing the main character to life. KitsuneRisu provided the cover art and helped me in cleaning up some of the supporting characters. And Pascoite and Zay-el gave me insightful advice on late drafts.

Further thanks to: RogerDodger: Master Organizer, Demetrius, Eustatian Wings, midnightshadow, Thanqol, Dublio, G&P!Trixie, Sparky, Filler, presentperfect, Kurbz, Ezn, Vimbert, MintyRest, Raharu, minjask6572, and everyone else who wrote, commented, and voted in the April /fic/ Write-Off.

Do you hate the main character? Love her? Think she’s brave? Cowardly? An idiot? There’s no right answer. I’d love to hear what you think! Please comment, use the FIMfiction mail feature or send an email to chocolatemilkmlp@gmail.com. It’ll help me to become a better writer.

The June /fic/ Write-Off is coming! Click for more info.