Chapter 2

----

Morning came all too quickly, as it always did.

The sunlight was just beginning to slip in through my window, offering a soft golden hue to my room. Outside it, I could hear my family’s barely restrained voices.

At it again.

Stifling a yawn with my wing, I stumbled to the end of my bed, strands of my purple mane slumping over my face. The single flaxen lock was among them. Imagine my surprise when I had found birthmarks could be hair related.

Ugh. If the Goddess had forgotten my brother’s brain, she had also forgotten my looks. Not that I really cared about such things. I would rather beat a stallion to a pulp with my training sword than make eyes at him. That was my gift, after all. Hitting things.

“Dawnfire? Are you up yet, dear?”

My mother. The town called her Starluck. I called her annoying. Sure, she meant well, but there comes a time when you are no longer your mother’s filly. For me, that had been about twenty-some years ago.

“Dawnfire, it’s time for— oh,” she stopped in the doorway where my brother had been, just the night before. Her coat and mane were all properly groomed, clashing with her wide eyes and open mouth. “Dawn, you haven’t even bathed yet,” she griped.

When have I ever bathed?

But like a good little “filly” I got to my hooves and dragged myself over to the wash basin. After all, if my brother had his way, it would likely be the last morning dear Mother got to hover over me. Not that I had made up my mind on the matter or anything.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” She followed me as I stepped into the cloud bin.

Mothers. They never missed anything. It was my own fault though, forgetting to utilize my normal amount of sass and snappy remarks. I wasn’t much of a morning pony, and no, the irony was not lost on me.

“Some privacy, please?” I muttered, looking at her over my shoulder.

She whinnied, “Goodness, Dawnfire, we’ve been over this. I’m your mother, and there’s no reason I...”

I continued to stare at her.

“Fine,” she huffed, backing away. “But I better not see one trace of dirt on you once you have finished.”

Dirt, right. Because the clouds are just filthy as of late. I waited until she had shut the door, then yanked on the rope that dumped a bucketful of water on my head from where it hung on the ceiling.

Dirt, like the kind the Earth ponies lived on.

I stood there for a moment, letting the water drip off my muzzle and suppressing my need to shiver. There was nothing like a douse of rainwater and reality to wake you up. Then jumping out, I carefully avoided the brushes on the floor and rolled on the clouds. A moment later I was all but dry.

I couldn’t imagine how the Earth ponies did it: living on the ground, having to trot anywhere they wanted to go, and waiting for rain. I couldn’t imagine waiting for rain. It was laughable. But yet, there was a chance I was about to find out, all thanks to Roanheart.

Luckily, I didn’t have time to dwell on such things. Training started early, and I didn’t want the Lieutenant in my face, last day or not.

My saddlebag laid by my bed where I had left it the evening before. I bit the strap and tossed it over my back. If I was lucky I could grab breakfast and leave without being stopped, or talked to; by my family or any other pony.

-----

Mother was just scooping out portions of oats when I walked into the room. She cast me a look that scolded without words, her tail smacking me as I went past for a bowl.

“Morning,” I sighed to nopony in particular, plucking a portion of oats away from Mother, despite her glares.

“Indeed it is,” my father replied. “If only your brother could tell the difference.”

That made me stop short. Is that what they had been arguing about? I wondered. Did they know?

I glanced at Roanheart, but he shook his head, looking more than a bit worn out.

My father, meanwhile, continued his rant. “It’s bad enough he threw away his chances at joining the Paladins, but now he’s sneaking off in the middle of the night, for Goddess knows what.”

Mother brought a bowl to the table for the old pony, shutting him up as he stuffed his mouth full of oats.

“As long as he isn’t seeing some mare, I think we should leave him be,” she said. “His time is his own, after all.”

I snorted and almost dropped my bowl. The only mare he would be seeing is Silverglow, and my closest friend had better not be betraying me for my brother.

“Bless you,” Mother said.

I attempted to tell her I hadn’t sneezed, but holding my breakfast might have garbled the message a bit.

She glowered. “Will you take a seat at the table, or are you going to stand there all morning?”

Here we go again, I thought, while Father rose to my defense.

“Clearly she is going out, Starluck,” he said. “Unlike Roanheart, she has duties she needs to perform. At least she has the dignity to stick around until you’re finished belittling her.”

“Bwha- belittling her?” she gasped. “Like you do our son? Roanheart may not be the perfect stallion to you, but he actually spends time with his family. Dawnfire barely sticks around long enough to say hello!”

“Maybe it’s because she’s tired of the constant nagging!”

Oh my word.

“Nagging? You think motherly advice is nagging?”

“Enough!” I shouted, my bowl clattering to the floor. “Both of you. I know you don’t agree with all of our choices, but wouldn’t it be better to accept them and move on, than argue all the time?”

“Not if they are the wrong choices,” Father said, before casually stuffing his face with more oats.

Unbelievable. For all he praised me, my father didn’t even care what I had to say. “He’s only trying to do what he thinks is right,” I said quietly.

I looked to Roanheart once again, sitting subdued in his place at the table. He smiled, in what I knew was his way of saying thank you.

My stomach knotted and I kicked the fallen bowl from my path, making for the door. Even with the oats crunching under my hooves I could hear my mother’s scoff. But what did it matter? Once we were gone she would realize how much she missed me. Sure, she would miss my brother more, but she would want me back too.

Not that I have decided yet. That persistent voice said, just as I passed outside and into the morning breeze. There was always a breeze. Would there be one on the ground, or would leaving take that from me too?

He’s just trying to do the right thing, I reminded myself, as a bright blue Pegasus passed overhead. The stupid thing, but the right thing.

And what was that thing? Throwing away our lives for ponies we didn’t even know?

Augh! I was tormenting myself. There was no way I would feel better obsessing over it in my head. I needed to hit something, and hard.

My wings snapped out and I captured the morning wind, taking to the air. There was only one place to go when I was feeling that way, the same place I always went. The training circle. If I was lucky, Silverglow would be there. She was that trusted friend you could complain to about everything and they would pretend to care. Except, she actually did. Or at least, I thought she did. At that moment I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

The town rolled past, looking the same as it always did; white houses settled in the clouds with open doors and windows. Pegasi took to their air in all directions. Some headed for the rain mill or the misty fields, while others left for the Academy or training ring, like me. I recognized a few, ponies who I had flown by several times before, but didn’t know their names. Ponies I would most likely never meet.

Oh well, their loss, I figured. Not as if I was in the business of making friends anyway. Most new ponies I met were in the training circle, and not too many were in the habit of extending a hoof in friendship after being beaten in the face with a wooden sword. But that’s training for you. You learn the hard way, or not at all.

The towering spires of the Circle were a good reminder of that. They put things in perspective. Whether it was seeing them high above the other clouds, or standing under them as the loomed over you. They proved how insignificant you were. That no matter how hard you tried, there would always be challenges bigger than you could handle.

But not for me. I lived for the challenge; the rush of adrenaline, the crowd of admirers who cheered on my highly refined swordplay. And most of all, I did it for my best friend, who never missed a single fight.

That’s who I was looking for when I flew up to those high and mighty spires. A cream-coated pony with a silvery blue mane, dwarfed by the training circle, but devotedly waiting for my arrival.

Goddess, I should write poetry. But that would mean less time for kicking things. And we can’t have that.

Swooping out of a glide, I alighted next to Silverglow and shook the accumulated dew drops from my wings.

“All hail, the hero has returned,” she said loudly. “May the stars bless her as she blesses us with her presence!”

“The hero acknowledges her subjects and delights in their glowing admiration,” I replied, mimicking her theatrical voice.

We both burst out laughing. It was the same routine we had been doing for years, and somehow neither of us were tired of it yet. Little did we know, it would be the last time we ever did.

“But seriously now,” Silverglow said, after containing herself. “Why are you late this time? Practicing all night long, or is there some stallion I should know about?”

“Ha! That’s a good one,” unless she means Roanheart, in which case, yes, he is the idiot who kept me from a good night’s sleep. Just, not like that. “Come on, we better get in there. I don’t want to keep my next victim waiting.” Oh Goddess, what am I going to tell her? Should I tell her? I hadn’t even considered it.

“You alright there Dawn?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said, trotting off under the arches of the arena. I needed time to think, and I did my best thinking while hitting things.

Silverglow quickly followed after me. She kept her mouth shut, but I could feel her gaze burning through my mane.

I shook off the feeling and kept going.

We were inside the Circle now, not the center itself, but the hidden halls under the stands; rows of doors drifting past on either side. My room was towards the middle, closest to the gate that led into the arena. Most ponies didn’t want a room like that, being able to hear the battles right before theirs in tournaments and the like. I lived on it. The exhilaration of what was to come. And after all, it wasn’t like it was a fight to the death. It was training. Only, I hadn’t known I was training for war. Was I prepared for such a thing?

We reached my room, and I unshouldered my saddlebag, getting a glimpse of Silverglow’s face as I did. That was a mistake. She was squinty-eyed and biting her lip. Perhaps not the leering gaze I was expecting, but sympathy was far more annoying in my book.

“Later, okay?” I said, then shoved my own face into my saddle and dug out the key to my room. She looked the same when I emerged.

“I’m not asking,” she insisted.

I rolled my eyes and inserted the key. Don’t know why we lock these anyway. A soldier’s fitting room was not abundant in valuables. At least mine was not.

Unlocking the room and shoving my way inside, I tossed my saddle bag into the corner and trotted to the weapons rack. My choice of “lethal” objects were all blunt wooden swords. To the amateur they would appear the same, but in reality they were all weighted differently, some even with varying hilts and lengths. I could only hope they were close to the real thing.

“Stop admiring your toys and get over here,” Silverglow huffed.

There was no point in arguing. Not with the pony who was helping me from getting my flank chewed out, both literally and figuratively.

She already had the steel barding out from my pack, and was tapping her hoof. I reluctantly stepped next to her, waiting for the cold touch of the armor’s metal plating.

She draped the first piece over my back, expertly avoiding my wings as she went about the straps, tightening them under me.

Naturally, I could have done all of it myself; most anypony with the scantest of training could, but the helping hoof of a squire was far easier. As long as it was somepony you could trust. One piece fitted wrong or one strap breaking loose could be the difference between living and dying. If we were fighting with real weapons that is.

“That should do it,” Silverglow said, having fitted the flank and chest pieces in their respective places.

I crossed the room to the single standing mirror and made a quick assessment of my majestic armor. I turned back to her where she sat blushing in the spot I left her. Why she always acted so embarrassed by her work was beyond me.

“Perfect as always,” I said, nodding my approval. But even as I moved away and selected my training sword, I felt her concern washing over me, or maybe it was just the cold metal. And maybe it was only my lack of sleep when I heard; “If you trust me with this, why can’t you trust me with one secret?”

I stared at her with my choice short sword in my mouth, the familiar taste of musky wood filling my senses. Silverglow showed no signs of having said a word.

I’m losing it.

“You’re going to be late,” She said, wilting under my gaze.

“Righf,” I mumbled through my weapon, before sheathing it at my side. “I’ll see you out there?”

“Of course,” She said, as I hurried passed her and into the hall.

I looked back, flashing her a quick smile without slowing down, and almost plowed straight into the stallion galloping down the hall.

“Sorry!” He shouted, but did so without taking his eyes off where he was going. His ocean-blue tail disappearing into an open room moments later.

At least I know I’m not the latest of the late, I thought. It was something to be grateful for. That, and the fact our regulation armor was light enough for a full gallop, not unlike the one my fellow soldier had just been doing.

I turned the corner for the gate and was greeted by the morning sun, already seeping over the last stands of the Circle’s edge. A row of youngish pegasi stallions stood at attention just outside on the cloud cover, their flanks to me, and tails swishing nervously. The ranting shouts of Lieutenant Windhelm could be heard from somewhere beyond them.

Slowing down a bit, I made for the far end of the row on my right. I made sure to keep my head low, ignoring the few judging glances of some stallions that caught my act. Thankfully when I got there, the Lieutenant was about ten ponies down the row, his grey muzzle shoved into that of an especially young soldier. The recruit did his best to look his commanding officer in the eye, whilst cringing and keeping his face from the flying spittle, or maybe the sun gleaming off the Lieutenant’s helmet. Which, I have to note, was the coolest piece of armor a Pegasi could get to wear. The way your mane fit through the back and came alive when taking flight was stunning. The only problem was, you only got to wear one once you passed your training and became a full-fledged Paladin.

“And that’s why none of you are ever going to pass your training!” Windhelm yelled ever louder. He stalked away from the freshly berated soldier, apparently content to leer down the rest of us as he spoke. “You’re lazy, sloppy, and have no respect for the Paladin code! Why, I bet my own mother would make a better soldier than any of you, and she’s too old to fly!”

A soldier sneezed, and the Lieutenant whipped around, his golden mane snapping out behind his helmet like a whip.

So cool.

“Do you have something to say, Galerush? Or can you simply not keep your nose from twitching!”

The sea-green Pegasus saluted, though his hoof trembled like a flower. “The twitching, sir!”

Windhelm snorted, as if the very idea disgusted him. Then, he continued down the line, towards me. Our eyes met. His fiery amber gaze locked on and refused to let me go as he approached. A few seconds later and my own violet eyes appeared in his. I felt the slightest pang of sympathy for that first young stallion just then. I knew what it was like, after all.

“Do you see what we have here?” The Lieutenant called out, but not for a second letting me out of his hard stare.

Not this again, I thought. And it took all my effort not to sigh aloud.

“Here we have the one single Pegasus in all the arena that has outshined the rest of you.” He stamped a forehoof with absolution. “If anypony has a chance to make the Paladins, it’s her.”

Lying bag of pony feathers. My mouth quivered, and I ground my teeth to keep from snarling into his arrogant face.

“She is the sparkling example of a true soldier! That is what I tell the Commander each week,” he said evenly, but speaking just as loudly. I could feel the eyes of every stallion in that line on me right then. Either hating me, or drooling at me. It never stopped.

Windhelm gave me the faintest of smiles. “If only one of you could be as good as this… mare.”

Buck off, you sexist pig.

And finally, he broke away, trotting back down the line. “Your training is nearly over! From what I’ve seen, you have learned nothing these past few moons. Today will be your chance to show me otherwise. Pair off to the nearest rings and begin your duels! Paladin Wildbreeze and I will be watching overhead as usual, do not disappoint me!”

With that said, he took off toward an oval-shaped dais that floated at the center of the arena. Another paladin, whom I could safely assume was Wildbreeze, already sat upon it.

“So, want to duel?” A husky voice practically whispered in my ear.

I jumped several lengths high in the air, my wings catching me and keeping me above my assailant. Below, the purple stallion that had been standing next to me grinned stupidly.

Great, a drooler, I scowled, actually searching for some on the clouds beneath him. Then again, drool does not stand out well on cloud cover. After a bit of awkward silence, and the leering stares of other soldiers who saw my episode, I descended.

“Fine,” I snapped, my muzzle as close to him as I dared. The quicker I got it over with this idiot, the sooner I could move to the next. “Follow me.”

“Lead the way,” he said, still smiling at me in a fashion that sent shivers down my spine.

Shaking it off, I started toward one of the raised platforms that scattered the arena, but then I imagined that stallion’s eyes on my flank and decided to fly the rest of the distance.

The platforms were only a few hoof-lengths higher than the cloud cover, designed to create a boundary to remain inside, without constricting your wings, or risking injury if you fell.

And forgot how to fly, I thought, pulling in my wings as I touched down on the nearest one.

The stallion had taken his time, still walking along the cloud cover and looking as content as a bird full of worms. Lots and lots of worms.

I took the chance to sweep the stands for Silverglow. I didn’t have far to look. She sat in the second row, right beside the gate. She saw me find her, and waved with a little bob of her hoof.

I saluted her, which actually got her to smile again. But before we could continue our charades, Drool Face hopped up onto the platform between us and slowly walked to the far end. Which, I should mention, was only about eight pony-lengths across. Both ways, as that is how circles work.

The steam I had built up from my little stare down with the Lieutenant was already fading, and I tried to hold on to the last bit of rage for my spar to come. I yanked out my wooden blade, and planted my hooves in a battle stance; wide and stable, but with enough room to spring. My wings were spread likewise.

Drool Face lifted a wing to reveal his own sword. “Ready?” He asked.

I grunted. What about me says I’m not ready, you dolt?

He seemed to take that as a yes and finally put the hilt in his mouth. That was the best part about combat. Your opponent had to shut up.

The second he took his own stance, I sprung.

I dove straight at him, sword outstretched. He went wide eyed, swinging toward me in a panic. My wings snapped forward, bringing me short of his blade and buffeting him with wind.

He backpedaled a step, raising up his hooves to fend off a second attack, but I jumped to the right instead and swung at his hind quarters. The sharp clack of wood on metal echoed in the open air. From the stands I could hear Silverglow cheer.

“That’s one,” I said, unable to keep the smug from my voice.

Drool Face simply stared at me as I walked back to my side, his sword hanging loosely from his mouth.

Clearly he hasn’t seen me fight before. But then, that was the trouble. The smitten stallions didn’t see me as a challenge and thought they could go easy on me. It was over too quickly with them. I preferred the ones that hated me.

I didn’t bother changing my stance. Crouching low, I waited for him to take his own. Not that it mattered.

Eventually, Drool Face sank down, a semi-fierce scowl plastered on his mug, not wanting to lose again. They never liked being humiliated in front of their peers. Could I blame them? Yes, yes I could.

I charged, but this time he held his ground. The problem was, I’m not a one trick pony. I stayed the course, blade forward and he realized too late I wasn’t pulling back. His sword came at my neck, but with no strength behind it. I batted it aside with my own and plowed into him shoulder first, the force sending him over the edge and rolling on the cloud cover below.

My wings saved me again, pulling me up before I could follow him and lose my second point.

Landing, I dropped my sword at the edge and rotated my forelegs, stretching my shoulders and back. Ah yes, it feels good to hit things again.

Drool Face pulled out of his daze to the sound of Silverglow stamping her hooves in applaud.

“You alright there little birdy?” she shouted from the stands. “Looks like you fell from your nest!”

He shot her a look before picking up his weapon and inching back toward the circle.

I laughed. In part because I was putting another smug stallion in his place, but mostly because of Silverglow. She didn’t like what I did. Crushing my opponents without mercy. Leaving them humiliated. But we both pretended she did. And the fact that my closest friend was willing to support me with the gusto of a true fan made me laugh.

Riding that good mood, I picked up my blade and backed away, smirking through the hilt. Drool Face pulled himself up onto the circle after me, glaring all the while.

As I rounded the edge to my side, I caught sight of that blue-tailed stallion who had nearly killed me in the hall. He had only just then galloped through the gate, his armor clearly put on hastily, and by his own clumsy hooves. The speed at which he must have done so was impressive though.

Unfortunately for him, the Lieutenant saw him as well, and swooped down from the dais, much like an eagle after a frightened rabbit. I turned away from the verbal massacre before it could begin. There were more important matters at hoof, like getting Drool Face out of my mane once and for all. I would enjoy adding another stallion to the list of those that hated me.

I got to my spot and turned around when he lunged at me, his wings scooping the air to cross the distance.

My sword met his not a moment too soon, the force almost jarring the weapon from my mouth. A hoof shot out, clipping my armor as I flew to the side, almost tripping me.

It failed. But he was on me again, exchanging blows and shooting out a hoof whenever he got the chance. It was reckless, not something we learned in training, but effective. I quickly realized his sword was heavier than mine, each strike hitting harder than the last. I needed an opening.

When the next swing came, I fell onto my back, my sword parrying his away from my face. He couldn’t stop his momentum, and as he dove over me, my hind legs connected with his exposed belly.

I heard the air go out of him, and rolling to my hooves I jumped after him, my sword striking his flank as he tumbled to the floor.

I sheathed my weapon and spit the woody taste out of my mouth. “And that makes three,” I snarled.

He groaned in response, but I wasn’t sticking around to see if he was okay. If it really was to be my last day in the clouds I wanted to get as much out of it as physically possible.

Walking off the circle, Silverglow’s usual applause was joined in by a few others. The stands were starting to fill with the normal morning rabble, flying in from all directions. Although it was mostly just young ponies looking for excitement, or ponies too old to work and looking for a way to pass the time. I appreciated their ovation none the less, and graced them with a hearty wave, before setting out for my next duel.

Sadly, my journey was cut a bit short.

“Dawnfire!” The Lieutenant hollered. “Get over here!”

You have to be kidding me, I moaned, but picked up my pace anyway.

Lieutenant Windhelm waited expectantly aside the blue-tailed soldier he had apparently just finished berating. I had to give the stallion credit though, despite what he had just been through, he was still standing tall. Perhaps a little out of breath, but not broken… yet.

“Dawnfire,” The Lieutenant repeated, as if there was a need to address me twice. “I need you to tear this soldier a new flank. Show him how seriously we take training around here.”

“Aye, sir,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Great, now I’m doing your dirty work?

“What was that soldier?” Windhelm stamped his hoof.

“Aye, sir!” I saluted. You have feathers for a brain, sir, and I would like to kick them out through your ears, sir!

The Lieutenant took to the air, shouting as he left. “Well don’t just stand there, get a move on!”

Blue-tail shook himself and gave me a half-hearted smile. “You can never catch a break with the old goose around, eh?” he said, before holding a hoof to his chest. “My name is Trotsky, by the way. Sorry for almost running into you earlier.”

I do believe we have another drooler. “Not a problem, Blue-tail,” I told him, then walked away toward the nearest empty training circle. “Try not to take it personally when I beat you to a pulp.”

I absently noted that only a few other fights had finished. It was easy to tell the winners from the losers. Not because they were bruised or bleeding, wooden swords didn’t leave scars to write home about. But when stallions won a competition they had a way of showing it off, chests puffed out, and heads held high.

“What did you call me?” Blue-tail trotted to catch up, his cream-colored coat was already covered in a healthy sheen of sweat.

“Blue-tail,” I said, climbing onto the circle. Was it really still a surprise to them that I didn’t care who they were or what they thought of me?

“Why would you call me that?” He asked, refusing to follow after me onto the platform.

I would have taken that as a joke had his face not been all scrunched up like he had whiffed his own breath. Instead, I pointed a hoof at the a-bit-past-regulation-length clump of hair sticking out of his rump.

“Because your tail… is blue,” I stated. You couldn’t get much simpler than that.

He snorted and jumped up on the circle, starting to pace around me, and I, him. “No, I’m asking why you would call me some made up name after I told you my real one, as if it didn’t really matter.”

That made me look at Blue-tail in a new light. Of most the stallions I had faced, almost every one could be categorized in two ways; as a glory hound, thinking he was better than all other ponies and I was an insult to his honor by challenging him. Or, as a self-conceited flea bag that thought I should swoon over him because he was a true soldier and I was only pretending to be one. But this stallion was different. It was bound to happen I suppose, a stallion with an actual conscience. The only thing was, I didn’t care. I couldn’t afford to.

“I call you Blue-tail, because whether you like it or not, your real name doesn’t matter. Most of you nameless stallions already dropped out moons ago, and even more of you who do happen to make it to the end of training won’t become Paladins.”

His ears flattened at that, but I wasn’t finished.

“Even if I were to learn your name, I wouldn’t remember it after you’re gone. Fact is, I’ve had moons to learn all your names, but I haven’t bothered, and do you know why?”

I didn’t truly care if he answered or not. While it felt good to rant, I was mostly just stalling so he could catch his breath and put up a half-decent fight.

He chose to answer. “I’m guessing you will tell me anyway.”

Bet your bits I will. “I don’t bother learning your names because none of you care to learn mine.” We had circled back to our places. Just a moment longer now. “I see the way you all look at me. To you I’m just the mare. The mare that losing to, means losing your dignity.” I took my stance and watched him take his. “To you I’m nothing more than an obstacle.” I pulled out my blade and gripped it firmly in my teeth, my blood pumping in anticipation. The monologue felt right, I would have to try it more often.

“Perhaps they wouldn’t think of you that way if you weren’t so bent on making them the enemy,” he said, catching me off-guard.

What? I’m not making them out to be any more than what they are. After all, they are the ones who-

He dove at me faster than Drool-face had ever moved. I didn’t have time to counter, so I rolled to the side.

I felt the air sweep behind me, his sword barely missing my flank. When did he even draw it?

But I didn’t have time to think, only act and react.

His next swing came low, so I vaulted away, spinning to face him while I did.

My sword was up just in time for his furious attack, each blow was different from the last. One high, another low. A thrust, then a full swing. But each one came just as quickly as the last.

I was panting for breath and losing the grip on my own blade. Somewhere Silverglow was yelling her encouragement, but I had lost all sense of direction in our mad little dance.

Another thrust was barely reflected in time, our wooden swords scraping together and our faces sliding inches from each other’s.

He snatched himself away, wings spread, and that’s when I saw it. A loose strap on his chest piece. It would need some help coming undone, but I would only get one chance at it.

I chased after him, going for the throat as he landed.

He batted it away easily, but as I reared away as well, my hoof shot out, catching the loose strap.

For a moment everything stopped, my hoof keeping us locked together. His eyes went wide, suddenly aware of my scheme. He shifted his stance, maybe to try and move closer, or maybe to fly out of it. But in that single movement, it didn’t matter anymore.

I felt it give way before I saw the chest place shift, falling off his shoulder as I fell on my back. The metal hit the platform with a soft thump, but it wasn’t over yet.

I rolled to the side, his sword striking where I had been seconds before. On my hooves again I deflected another blow, and as his blade swung away I pressed forward, aiming for his exposed chest. My sword hit home. It was over.

Immediately Blue-tail’s attitude changed. He stepped away and sheathed his sword, a big stupid grin on his face.

My own weapon hung limp in my mouth. He does know getting struck without armor is a loss, right? Silverglow was cheering from the stands behind me, which meant we had completely changed sides during the engagement. Then I realized, my friend was not the only pony that had seen the duel. Several other soldiers had gathered around the platform, most with looks of frustration or disappointment, though a select few stared up at us with appreciation.

“Well fought,” Blue-tail said, picking up his fallen armor and tossing it on his back. “You are a most deadly obstacle. Let’s just hope the Lieutenant doesn’t kick me out for losing to a mare.”

A hot flash of anger surged through me as the stallions around us laughed. I had to resist the urge to hit him again as he walked past me. But as I hesitated, he stopped and leaned in close.

“Not everypony who is against you is your enemy, Dawnfire,” he whispered. “Oh, and thanks for the breather. Don’t think for a moment I didn’t notice what you were doing there.”

He winked at me, which got a round of whinnies from those watching. Then before I could think of what to say, he left the platform.

I watched him leave, flanked on both sides by Twitchy-nose, and a lanky grey stallion I did not recognize.

You are a strange stallion, I thought, as Blue-tail glanced back at me one last time.

If only I had understood him better then. Perhaps our paths might have intertwined differently. Maybe he would have changed my mind. Maybe he would have saved me from many of my own mistakes. I will never know for sure.

What I did know, was that the large red stallion climbing onto the circle was ready for a fight. I doubted he would be giving me the same reprieve I had given Blue-tail, even if it was training regulations to have five minutes between each fight.

He snorted fiercely and spat on the floor, as if it was supposed to impress me. It didn’t, but it did earn him his nickname, Big-spit.

I turned back to the stands and cast Silverglow a look that I’d hoped said something along the lines of; “Get a load of this idiot.”

I’m guessing it did, because she gestured a noose around her neck and played dead.

I had to smile a little at that, which wasn’t easy to do with a sword in your mouth. I faced Big-spit again, and swallowed my own, working my teeth against the hilt to get a better grip. Finally, the day’s sparring was back to normal everyday stallions who hated me. Now I could mindlessly beat them into a pulp. Goddess, I love being a soldier.

Author's Note

And so our journey begins. Thank you so much for reading so far, and I hope to see you again in the future. After all, this story is going to be a long one, if I ever get around to finishing it. Also if you have any questions for me, feel free to post on my profile page or send a private note. I hope you all have a great week.

Cheers!