Marble’s hind leg and back hurt; he had most likely a sprained tendon from when he challenged that fledgling guard to a running competition. Regulations stated that he should report to the infirmary, but the doctors always asked too many questions. Besides, those things weren't for the tougher generation. Colts these days couldn't hold their own against a breezie, much less an old veteran like himself, but he admitted that he had been forced to play dirty around the bends.
Still, that colt calling himself a guard needed a lesson in reality; real fighting wasn't a friendly competition where your opponent played by the rules. The fact that he could still beat his fellow guards was proof against all those who were mumbling that he should retire soon. Although he would be feeling the strain from such a run for weeks.
“Good morning, Marble,” said Penny, the cute unicorn maid responsible for this area.
“Morning,” he growled, not meaning to sound snappy, but his aches made him impulsive.
Penny, passing his guard-post on her way to clean one of the guest rooms, gave him a weird look.
Once she had rounded the corner, he was alone in the hallway. It was an isolated post since this wing of the castle barely saw any use during the autumn months, and he wondered if his recent behavior had anything to do with his placement here. True, there had been an increasing amount of arguments between him and the recruits, but he couldn't help himself. They were all so wet behind the ears.
He knew deep down that it wasn't them; his many back and stomach pains kept him on edge. Sometimes, a poorly phrased comment that caught him off-guard was enough to trigger him, even if he actively tried keeping himself under control. Things hadn't always been like this. The change from friendly and outgoing to miserable and reclusive had happened so gradually over the last few years, and he almost couldn’t remember what he used to be like.
As the hours of his shift passed, he found himself parched and continually sweating. Still, he decided not to call out and ask Penny to bring him some water. The mare had work to do after all, and he could take care of himself.
He blinked.
Twice.
His view was suddenly vertical, as he found himself down on his side, left cheek touching the cold floor. It took him several seconds before he realized where he was. He attempted to stand up, only to fall again when his left hind leg trembled spastically.
Standing on three legs, he tried making sense of the situation, only to realize that his helmet had come off and was now lying on its edge below the window on the other side of the hallway. There was a sudden fear that someone might find him in such a state, so he quickly limped over to retrieve it. He was forced to sit unsteadily on his haunches to be able to put on the helmet, then promptly he returned to his original position as if nothing had happened.
Luckily, the trembling subsided after half an hour, and his head cleared up. It was, after all, not uncommon for guards to faint at their post. It could have been problems with low blood pressure, which was strange since he took only half a portion at breakfast. In fact, he had eaten very little these past two weeks.
Penny came down the hallway with a trolley of clean towels but stopped when she caught sight of him.
“Marble!” she said, looking like she had seen a ghost. “You look terrible! What happened to you?”
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just had some trouble with indigestion.”
“You look worse than that,” she said, dropping the trolley to go get a better look at him. “You look like you’ve just run a marathon.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated and tried to calm himself by slowly breathing in and out.
“Right, ‘I’m fine’ my flank,” she replied, moving a hoof to his face. “Your coat's practically gone white, you need to be in bed, and probably a hospital one at that.”
“Look, just leave me alone!” he snapped, backing out of her reach. “I just had some stomach issues, no need to make a big deal out of it.”
She recoiled at his outburst but soon found her backbone. “Only if you promise me that you'll go straight to the doctor when your shift is done,” she said, nagging like most mares did when they brooked no arguments from a stallion. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, yes, I promise,” he said, waving her away with his voice, if not with a gesture. “Now get out of here!”
His rudeness caught her by surprise, and she simply shook her head before heading off with the trolley. Cursing himself for losing his temper, he returned to his post and waited patiently until his replacement showed up an hour later. He stood with his back turned and gave his fellow guard a short ‘everything is fine’ report, before walking off in the opposite direction.
Marble headed straight for the nearest bathroom he could find, threw open the door, then checked to make sure no one else was in any of the stalls. Removing the helmet and back armor, he gave himself a good look in the mirror. He wasn't very pleased with what he saw.
His mane was sticky at the places where it laid against his coat, and there were damp patches scattered all across from his neck to his hindquarters. He looked and felt like he hadn’t slept for days. Splashing hot water on his face did little to remedy his appearance, but he kept at it until at least some semblance of his former self became evident. He used more water on the sweaty patches, hoping that they would stay hidden beneath the armor and that the smell wouldn't be too pungent once it dried out.
There wasn't enough time to head to the barracks and grab a shower, and it would be crucial for him to be at the Princesses’ side when the Saddle Arabian delegation arrived. The number of threats to their person had been overwhelmingly high these last two years, and he needed to be there to protect them. The idea that the current guards could keep them safe was laughable, as he was still the superior choice, even in his weakened state.
After putting his gear back on, he experimentally tapped the floor with the offending hind hoof. The muscles in the leg spasmed whenever he put weight on it, but the trembling subsided soon after.
Seeing as there was nothing more to be done, he left the bathroom and headed towards the room the guards used for meetings before significant events. The hallways he passed to get there had more servants and guards present, but he turned away whenever someone glanced at him for too long.
Marble increased his pace, walking past both the medical ward and the cafeteria, and only stopped when he reached the meeting room. It was as empty as he had expected, with the other guards more than likely still having lunch. With no one around, he took the opportunity to sit in the corner chair and angled it so he sat with his back turned toward the rest of the room.
Twenty minutes passed as he read The Canterlot Times, while the rest of the guard detail arrived one by one. They all ignored him, and instead discussed the upcoming meeting and any last-minute security arrangements. The only pony he respected in the group was his captain, who came up to him before it was time to move out.
“Evening, Marble,” Swift greeted, with concern evident in his voice. “You alright there? Usually, you're badgering the recruits to toughen up at this point.”
“I’m fine,” he growled back and buried his face deeper in the newspaper. “Go pester someone who needs it.”
The pegasus stallion flinched at his tone, but instead of giving him a reprimand, simply replied, “You know the drill?”
“Of course I do,” he snorted. “I’ve done this a hundred times.”
Swift nodded. “I want to see you in my office after the meeting ceremony is done.”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
“Good,” Swift replied, and turned to address the rest of the room. “We move out in five, get your gear on.”
Everyone stood up at the command, and Marble waited until the last one had left the room. He made sure to stay at the very back of the line as his unit made its way outside. They stopped at the main road leading up to the palace entrance, and at a distance, he could see the delegation party making their way through the city. His unit split in two to stand guard at both sides of the road.
The weather outside was sunny yet cool, and a large crowd had decided to show up on the streets to view the public part of the meeting. Marble took his place in the row of guards, whose focus was on any suspicious behavior from the pony spectators. His fellow guard to the right, a young brat whose name he’d forgotten, gave him a strange look, but soon returned to scanning the crowd after receiving an angry glare in return.
Everything seemed fine, as Celestia and Luna came out of the palace precisely on schedule and walked down the road to convene with the incoming delegates. When the royal sisters reached their position, Marble's guard unit turned to salute them. There would be a short wait here before the diplomatic party arrived, while everyone in the guard stood on edge. Their eyes scurried back and forth in search of any signs of Changeling infiltration, or worse.
Nothing happened as the delegates arrived. He recognized Haakim and Amira from the royal family, but their escorts were unfamiliar to him. There were six of them, wearing grey cloaks draped over their heads and backs, and a Saddle Arabian scimitar attached to their front legs.
There was an exchange of pleasantries between the two parties, though he paid little attention to what was said. Instead, he eyed their escort carefully.
Disaster struck.
Sweat started to pour from his face. It was like his innards were replaced with a black hole. His left hind leg shook uncontrollably, and he felt himself becoming increasingly light-headed.
“We are delighted by such a warm reception,” Haakim said, addressing the princesses in a voice that was loud enough for the entire crowd. “Especially in these troubled times.”
“It's always a pleasure to have you vis—” Celestia said, but was interrupted by a loud hoof stamping down on the pavement.
Marble had tried and failed to get his hind-leg under control and had accidentally stomped down with too much force. He looked up to find that almost all eyes were on him. He tried to move forward to apologize, but something hit him like a cart, and he had to fight to remain conscious as dark pools filled his vision. He lost his balance completely and stumbled into the much smaller guardsmare on his left. There was a loud yelp from the mare as he crashed into her, knocking them both to the ground. He heard scimitars drawn by the Saddle Arabian escorts.
“I think I saw something over there!” a voice shouted.
“Get the princesses to safety!” Captain Swift commanded, followed by a cacophony of yells and thundering of hooves. “Get them back into the Palace! Move!”
Marble completely lost his vision at this point but somehow managed to avoid fainting. His body was paralyzed, but he could still hear the mare underneath him struggling to get up. His mind raced. Had a Zebra stun dart hit him? A Changeling incapacitation spell? Were the princesses safe?
He heard himself being dragged away.
“Can you hear me?” a panicked voice asked.
He tried to form words, but nothing came out.
“We need a doctor over here!”
—
Marble woke up and turned off the screaming alarm clock. It was an hour past sunrise, an inconceivable time to wake up only three weeks ago. Standing up, he limped his way to his breakfast table and took out a box of oatmeal and milk, then placed it next to his pill box.
The box contained a chart of the pills he would need to take for the remainder of his life. Three a day. Every day. The doctors had told him that he was lucky; if he had gone with the disease another week, he would have been bound to a wheelchair, or worse. However, it was too late to fully save most of the function in his left hind leg.
The Celestial Medal of Service rested on his desk, its golden surface reflecting the morning light across the room. Celestia herself had given it to him at his last day at work, five days after the debacle he had caused at the diplomatic meeting. Celestia had assured him that it wasn't a big deal, that it happens to even the best of ponies. She had then leaned forward and whispered into his ear that she had actually found the whole situation very amusing.
Regardless, his days as a guard were numbered, and he could never face his fellow guards again after what had happened. He was supposed to have been the best, the veteran who showed the recruits how things were done, and yet he had made a mess of things and embarrassed himself in front of everyone.
The pain in his hip and back was a thing of the past; now that they knew the root cause, the medicine made sure of that. It was amazing to him the difference it had made to his behavior: he no longer lashed out at ponies or got angry outburst over little things. In some ways, he was back to being the friendly pony he had always been.
However, he could also feel something dark growing in him, a sort of depression built up by loneliness. He looked up at the painting of his wedding. She was as beautiful as ever, but she had left them too early. His work had been his life after she passed, and now that was gone as well. Part of him wondered if he still had any reason left in taking medicine.
His dark thoughts were interrupted by something heavy dropping through the mail slot. He left his breakfast to check out what it could be and found an album on the floor. Picking it up, he read aloud what was written on the front in calligraphic letters.
“From the Palace to Marble,” he read, not sure what to make of it.
He flipped the first page and found a picture of himself and Captain Swift during an outdoor military drill. It was an older photo of the two, but he remembered it like it was yesterday, and below the picture was a message in Swift’s writing.
“Thanks for saving my flank more than once. The guard and my flank would never have been the same without you.”
He chuckled at that and turned to the next page. It had a picture of Penny.
“I'll miss you, even if you were a thick-headed yak most of the time. You better come visit if you are ever in the neighborhood.”
Smiling to himself, he kept going through the pages. Most were from the guards he had known and worked with, and even Celestia and Luna were in it. Every pony had a photo of themselves with some form of encouragement signed below.
The last photo was a surprise: the same young guard that he had raced and given an especially hard time.
“Thank you for helping me become the pony I am today, you changed my life,” he read and felt something break inside of him. Tears fell from his eyes as he collapsed with his back against the wall, weeping uncontrollably. There was no telling if he was happy, sad, or both, as he sat alone on the floor, crying his eyes out.
