‘With all of his might, and all of his will, Gladio Blueblood took his enchanted sword and slayed the Draconequus Discord. It was then, for the first time, the Equestrian banner reigned over a land free of tyranny. This treasured moment came at the sacrifice of our great hero, for he collapsed but moments later, as the enchanted sword drained him of his life as payment for over extending its use. The sword, deemed a cursed weapon, would never be seen again after Her Majesty, the Divine Bringer of Light, sealed it away in Tartarus with the stallion who’d been brave enough to use it to its fullest.

~ Equestrian Legends: Volume I, Bugsy the Bard.’

Upon dragging me into a courtyard, Sergeant Magenta released me, and I hit the ground with a thud. I looked up and saw her scowl looking down at me.

“Get up. I’m giving you the tour,” she demanded tersely.

Wordlessly, I followed her angry instructions.

“Over there is the armory.” She pointed a hoof toward a door on the left. The door itself left no impressions, but on either side stood two empty suits of armor, each colored bright red and yellow. “Guarding it is the Honor Guard. Don’t buck with them. Or do. In fact, please do. I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“I-”

“Moving on.” Magenta, completely ignoring me, pointed at a door on the opposite side of the courtyard, to the left. “That’s the mess hall. They don’t serve food there.”

“They don’t?” I asked with obvious confusion.

“Nope. They don’t serve food anywhere around here. Sorry. No food for the next five-hundred miles.”

I furrowed my brow in further confusion, but Sergeant Magenta’s whirlwind of a tour gave me no opportunities to catch up. Completely ignoring her charge, Magenta pointed to the larger door directly ahead of them.

“Over there’s the training yard and barracks,” she explained curtly. “And that’s about all that matters. Any questions?” She quickly about-faced, raising her brow at me.

“Uh-”

“Great. Tour’s over. Go find some food or whatever Her Majesty said.” With that, Magenta brushed past me and sped toward the door back into the main section of the palace.

“H-hey, Miss, please wait!” I held out my hand, reaching for her as she passed.

“Is that an order?” she asked without even looking over her shoulder.

“Well, no-”

“Good. I’ll be off. Don’t follow me, or I’ll file a section 202 for harassment.”

“Wh-what?”

She didn’t bother for a response, and slammed the door behind her.

At a complete loss for words, and in dizzying confusion, I stood there. My arm was still held up, as if Old Man Winter himself had frozen me there.

‘What is her issue?’ I wondered. ‘I suppose I understand why she’s upset but… no… I suppose I’ll just leave it at that.’ I finally let my arm drop, and turned back towards the courtyard. Despite the recent hostile interaction, the courtyard itself was mostly quiet. Well trimmed grass gently swayed in a breeze that swished through all four quadrants. Small hedges had also been groomed and nurtured, and a marble fountain stood in the center of four converging flagstone paths which the hedges lined.

Tentatively, I inched into the courtyard to gaze at the fountain closer. These marvels of engineering were so rare back home. I had only seen one in Castle Esterfell. Even then, the fountain only bubbled with a gentle trickle of murky green waters, and it had been so damaged and decayed that it’s reservoir only contained at most an inch of water. Usually it was dry.

But this fountain was like a spring of life, gushing upwards with a hiss and raining down with a roar into three more layers of water. Each layer had at least six inches of water, and the bottom most reservoir contained surely a foot. The water was clear too. Far clearer than any stream I’d ever seen. Looking through it, to the bottom of each layer, small coins glowed with a reflection of the sunlight.

Through my helmet, I observed the sight in awe, jaw agape. Stepping closer, I put my hands on the edge of the water fountain, and peered straight downward. Looking back at me, was distorted, rippling reflection of myself.

“You look like you’ve never seen a fountain before,” commented a mature-sounding voice.

“N-no. I’ve just never seen one this clear,” I responded, craning to see whom had approached me.

My gaze met a guard stallion. His armor changed his colors, but it was clear from the way he carried himself that he was an experienced fighter. A scar marred his otherwise well sculpted maw. It ran from his left nostril to the bottom of his chin and left.

“Ah. They purify the water here every night, so it’s always crystal clear.”

“Really?” I asked, amazed.

“Yeah.” The stallion took a spot next to me and also stared into the fountain. “The fountains in this palace are my favorite of all the land-- and I’ve seen even the most gaudy fountains in Neigh York.” He took a moment and his eyes shifted from the waters to the marble rim that kept the water in.

Setting aside my disbelief of more intricate fountains, I asked courteously, “Why do you say that?”

“Well, every fountain tells a story. Something the sculptor wanted to communicate. Sometimes it’s the depiction of folktales. Others are of some important figure. If I’m being honest… I just like the stories these fountains tell more.” As he explained his opinion to me, he softly smiled with a fondness in his eyes. “But this fountain in particular… This one is my favorite in the palace. You see, it tells the story of a lost foal.”

“What happened to the lost foal?”

“He died.” The stallion replied bluntly, with not a change in tone. The unexpected change in subject caught me off guard and I bellowed a hearty chuckle. The stallion’s grin widened into a smile, though he kept his eyes on the fountain, walking around it. “It’s all in the frieze around the rim of this fountain. The foal is lost and afraid, until he meets Her Majesty. She takes him with her to Canterlot, where she allows him to live in the barracks with all her soldiers. The Princess was kind enough to talk with him every month or so, but she is a busy mare.”

The stallion takes a few more steps around the fountain before continuing, “But the foal is not immortal. And soon, he is no longer a foal, but a stallion, who has dedicated himself to serving Her Majesty through whatever, come what may. She had all but forgotten him though. So he worked hard. Harder and harder, until he was the fiercest warrior in all of the Royal services. He was the wisest tactician. He was the best sword stallion. He was the most accurate archer. He was legendary in every sense of the word.”

The stallion was now on the opposite side of the fountain from me. He craned his neck, and looked into my eyes as he finished his story. “But he had no war. His skill and prowess had gotten him nowhere. He went unnoticed by Her Highness. Until one day, as the stallion-- now the captain of the honor guard-- and the princess were traveling the countryside, they came under attack from monsters. The stallion fought tirelessly against a seemingly never ending horde, giving his all. Some of the other guardsponies ran in fear. Others were killed in battle. But the stallion, took blow after blow in Her Majesty’s defense. Eventually he took one blow too many, but not before single-hoofedly slaying every monster that attacked the caravan.”

He circled back to me, and I watched him as I listened carefully. “When the warrior finally breathed his last, and his armor’s effects wore off, Princess Celestia realized she recognized him. She recognized the lost foal, whom she’d taken in all those years ago. And as she realizes this, a foal lost and afraid wanders up to Her Highness’s caravan. And she takes him in,” he finishes, standing where he stood before.

I mull over the fountain’s story for a while, discerning the meaning. “A monument to those who toil for Her Highness’s recognition, and a promise that one day, you’ll be recognized,” I conclude.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“What do you think it means then?”

“Me? I can’t say. I just like the story.” He smiles, and then looks at me once more. “So, you’ve seen combat before?”

His question made me freeze up. But it was only momentary, and soon I was comfortable to talk about it. “How could you tell?”

“Not many of the ponies around here would laugh when hearing that a foal died,” he says with a laugh. “They don’t have a sense of humor, I say.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve seen combat too?”

He too, for the briefest of moments, tensed up. Then he shared, “Yeah.”

“You carry yourself like a warrior,” I pointed to his hooves, “Legs slightly parted, shoulders tense, head up high, eyes scanning your surroundings.” His sword’s scabbard was rather plain, though clearly high quality. The outside was sheathed in a red cloth, and embroidered with gold, matching the rest of his uniform.

“Respectfully, you carry yourself like you’re afraid.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Look where your hoof is.” The stallion pointed to my left hand. It was firmly gripping the hilt of my sword. “And your own eyes, they’re wild. You’re twitching, too. It’s faint, but after taking a closer look, you look like you’re barely holding on.”

After he pointed these things out, I was rather self-conscious of them. His words led me to fidget more, with a nervous trepidation.

“I-” Before I could lose my wits, the stallion interrupted me with a proposition.

“Say, how about a spar?”

“Against me?”

“Well sure. I don’t know what you are, but I’ve fought bipeds before. They always provided an interesting challenge. I’d like to see how good of a fighter you are.”

“I- I’m hesitant to agree.”

His scarred head tilted in confusion. “It’s only a spar, not a duel or combat. We’ll use blunted weapons. No strings attached to the match. What do you say?”

When he explained this, I felt a slight relief. If it isn’t anything but a spar then, “I’d like that,” I agreed.

The stallion nodded with a smile, “Alright! Come on, let’s head to the training grounds.” He turned towards the set of doors that led to the location in mind, and motioned with a hoof for me to follow. Something about this stallion made me feel at ease. He had a certain charm about him that I just couldn’t shake off.

“Oh! I am Sir Corrick of Es- er- Sir Corrick the White, knight of Her Highness, Princess Celestia. What’s your name?”

“Oh, me?” The warrior-stallion turned back to face me as we introduced ourselves. “I’m Sneezy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sneezy?”

“Yeah, Sneezy Trees.” The earth pony stallion’s easy going attitude left. He didn’t give me his rank, or whatever unit he belonged to, but I supposed it didn’t matter. For now, we are simply two warriors.

“Now that we’re introduced, let’s cross swords.”

“Mh,” he affirmed, leading the way.

The training grounds were no spectacle. Unlike the previous courtyard, no marble adorned this one. For the most part, it was muddy. Not like the rotten battlefields, but done purposefully to soften the ground up some. It was like this in the Esterfell training grounds too. Also unlike the previous courtyard, this field bustled with activity and ponies hard it work. It was very noisy.

Despite this noisiness, as Sneezy led me to one of the pens, I noted some odd chatter from a few of the guardsponies hanging about.

“Oh look, Sneezy’s here again with some new toy to school,” said a stallion with a strange mare.

“Aw, no way, is that the beast who killed some of them shock troopers?” asked a mare.

“Nah, I heard it was getting the death sentence this morning, and that it’s head’d be a trophy by the afternoon,” the stallion responded.

Another stallion chimed in, “What? No! Didn’t you see the trial? Celestia forgave that as an accident. Apparently, he was just trying to impress her with his combat skills off to become a knight, and she was! That thing is a knight now.”

I saw Sneezy’s ears twitch to the sources of gossip, and immediately the chatter from them stopped. I apparently already have a reputation. It seems word spreads quick in Canterlot. I can only hope it doesn’t spread the same way throughout the whole of Equestria. I don’t want to be seen as a monster. I’m not a monster.

My new friend led me up to a pen with a couple of guards who wore dark blue armor, and had cat-like eyes. Their uniforms were completely different than the others, with their colors being mainly greys.

“Hey fellas, mind if my friend and I take this ring once you’re finished?”

“Huh? Oh, sure thing, Sneezy,” replied the mare on the right, “We’re just finishing up here anyways. It’s kinda early.” She sounded very tired as she said this.

The guard stallion on the left was confused. “Wait, we just started a few min-”

“Yeah, and I told you it was a long shift. I’m tired, let’s pack up.” As she explained this, she got his and her things put away and began pushing him out of the ring.

To me, it seemed as though she was afraid of something. And watching her scuffle out of the training pen with her partner only seemed to affirm this to me. She was definitely in a hurry to be away from something. Maybe her training hadn’t been going so well.

And next to me, Sneezy simply held up his now familiar smile. Sneezy himself looked genuinely excited. I can tell he likes training-- maybe even fighting. I can appreciate the art of sword combat, but… If he enjoys the latter too much… I could have made a mistake. I suppose I really don’t know anything about him.

Sneezy walked up to the weapon racks around the edge of training ring.

“What kind of weapon do you like to fight with?”

“Uh…” Like a child, I was nervous to give an answer to that question. It was as if I had no idea what kinds of weapons there were, even though I’ve been practicing with all sorts of martial weapons since I was young. I’m a fool for having agreed to this.

As I was getting second thoughts, Sneezy looked over his shoulder at me, and then at my sword.

“A longsword then. Y’know, usually longswords for larger bipeds like yourself are like greatswords for us ponies. No worries, though. We have longswords for someone like you.”

“O-oh? Is that so?” I replied without much thought. My hands had begun to feel a little numb, and arms felt like they wanted to be doing almost anything but hanging there at my side. If they could sprout legs and walk off, I’m sure they would. I know I’d like to do just that.

“Here,” Sneezy held out a blunted longsword to me. I absent-mindedly gripped it. As soon as I did, the blade-- which had been too short-- adjusted to my size. My astonishment bringing me back to earth, I noted how perfect the blade felt in my hands. “Feels perfect right?” Sneezy asked.

“Y-yeah…” I wanted to be able to point out some slight flaw to show that I at least knew something about weapons, but there were no flaws. The blade was exactly perfect for wielding. Perfectly heavy for my prefered strength, perfectly long for my reach, perfectly balanced for a swing. No imperfections in the steel whatsoever.

“Good, it’s supposed to adjust itself based on the wielder. No magic required, aside from the sword’s construction. It’s made from a magical quicksilver alloy and some other stuff… uhm… I don’t exactly know the whole construction method. But it’s pretty neat, I think.”

I turned away from Sneezy, so I could make a practice swing. My hands still shook, but I firmly gripped the handle. The pommel was rounded, and comfortable to rest the bottom of my left hand on, and the guard of the sword was curved just slightly so as not to be completely flat. With one swing, I could tell that the leather around the tang was all there was between it and my hand. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem, though. My gauntlets are pretty thick. So vibrations won’t be a huge problem.

While I was distracted in analyzing my training weapon, Sneezy had gone to pick out his own weapon. He picked out a pair of horseshoes with what looked like claws on their edges. I raised a brow hidden by my helm.

Either noticing an inquisitive look, or figuring I wouldn’t be familiar, “Steel claws,” he answered. “At least, the pony version of them. The Gryphons were the ones who originally came up with the design, but they already have claws and we don’t, so... “

“So you’ll be fighting with what equates to gauntlets?”

“Yes.” He noticed me faint disbelief, and quickly assauged it. “I’m really pretty good with these, if I say so myself. Don’t underestimate me,” he gently warned.

“Right, apologies. That was rude of me.” I was forgetting myself. I know better too, as underestimating an opponent is one of the biggest follies a warrior can make. I should assume he’s one of the most skilled steel claw wielders in the area.

“Anyways, let’s get in the ring and fight already. I’m getting antsy here. Look,” he grinned with a small chuckle, “my hooves are shaking.”

“Alright, let’s do this. It’ll be a good spar,” I said. The latter part of my words had been more to convince myself, as I remembered that we’d be fighting.

“Mh,” Sneezy agreed, jumping over the fencing and into the ring. Apparently he’d placed his own sword and scabbard off to the side, near one of the weapon racks. I quickly took my own sword off my hip and placed it near his.

The fencing to the ring was low enough for me to just step over it with little difficulty. It went up to the neck of a normal pony, and thus only went up to just below my hips. One of my feet hit the ground inside the ring, and I had to grab the fence, as the mud inside the ring was a bit more slippery than the mud in the rest of the training grounds. It wasn’t hard to get used to though, once both of me feet were inside.

“Okay, what do you want the rules of this spar to be?”

“Er…” I couldn’t really think. It hit me once more that we were going to be sparring and my body kept screaming ‘no’.

“Let’s say any hit on the body or head is a point. Three points to win. What do you say?”

“I believe that’ll work,” I responded, focusing on holding my sword properly.

“Do you want two body hits for a point instead, since you’re bigger?” His politeness in this whole ordeal put me a little more at ease.

“N-no, one will suffice. It shall be fair.”

“Okay,” He got into a stance and put his claws on, before softening after looking around.

“What is it?”

Instead of giving me an answer, he looked around once more, and upon spotting a pony, he shouted, “Hey! Candle! Get over here and referee our spar, will ya?”

“Sneezy? A-alright, I’ll be right over,” The somewhat short mare yelled back. She wore golden armor, and looked like a normal pegasus guard. She quickly fluttered over to our ring. When she got there, Sneezy explained the rules of the match. Then, he turned to me.

“This is Candlestick. She’s got a really good eye, and is one of the most fair referees around. You mind if she’s the judge?”

“N-not at all. I hardly know any better candidates.”

“Oh, Sneezy, what are you doing? This thing got off the train yesterday and murdered…” Sneezy took a sharp glance at Candlestick and her words trailed off. “Look,” she started, getting her thoughts back together, “What I mean is, this thing doesn’t know anything about how you fight. He’s Celestia’s new knight from a very…” She glanced my way, “very far away land. Probably doesn’t know much on fighting ponies. ‘Sides, you know… he’s...”

“Don’t worry about it. He agreed to it. It ain’t like I dragged him here like most of the other ponies I spar.”

“He doesn’t know any better! If you do this, you might make Her Highness mad.” She was rather worried for Sneezy.

“Hey, hey, just keep score and watch us, alright? That’s all. Everything else doesn’t matter,” he told her. She was about to pipe up once again, but Sneezy gave her a look and she surrendered without any more words. “Let’s start then.”

“Okay.” Candlestick took a deep breath. “Are you ready, Sneezy?”

Sneezy shrugged with a relaxed grin, “Always.”

“Understood.” Candlestick turned to look at me clearly for the first time. She studied me for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow with an unimpressed look, “I thought you’d be bigger.”

“I-I don’t know what to say to that.”

At hearing my words, her ears swiveled back and she recoiled. “That voice… were those even words?” Sneezy gave her another glance, though this one was more to tell her to hurry. “R-right, right. Anyways, we’ll start at the clang of this bell. Got it?” She threw a look to Sneezy, to which he responded with a nod. “Okay,” she said, nearly completely ignoring me.

I was now only slightly unsure if she would be a fair judge, but seeing as I couldn’t come up with a suitable replacement, she’d have to do. Regardless, it was too late to begin worrying about that. I had to worry about the opponent in front of me. I once more firmly gripped my training sword.

Inhaling deeply, I lowered into my battle stance, and so too did Sneezy. I tipped the point of my blade toward him, and there was a slight twitch in his eyes. Aside from that, he was perfectly calm. And in this moment, so was I. This spar, this match, this duel, this would be a clash of two skilled warriors. I could tell from looking into his eyes. I could tell by looking in his direction. His pose was unwavering, but relaxed. He contained within him no tension.

I felt unsure. I was having last second doubts. But this was not the time to begin having second thoughts. I needed to be calm, and focused, and collect. There was no room for unnecessary thoughts. There was no room for anything but this battle. And yet, I have this sinking feeling.

Clang!

The bell had rung. Without missing a single beat, Sneezy leaped at me. My eyes widened, as I could barely comprehend his speed. He didn’t come off as the agile type, yet that’s what he was.

Reflexively, I moved my sword in front of me to parry, but Sneezy had already adjusted to counter my parry with a smack from his other steel claw. Unready for his sudden movements, I fell out of the way in an awful excuse for a dodge.

He didn’t give me a chance to get back up. As soon as he could, he kicked the ground with one of his one of his rear hooves, and threw himself at me once again. I had not been able to roll away, and his claws hit my chest.

Clang!

It was all nearly too fast for me to comprehend. And as I was processing it, the bell rang signaling a point to Sneezy. I had no mind to contest the point, it was fair. Though I wasn’t asked. It wasn’t like I could respond anyways, as I had not the air in my chest to speak.

“One point to Sneezy Trees,” declared Candlestick.

“Huh,” he mumbled unimpressed, “Hey are you alright? Get up, we still got at least two matches to go.”

“Ngh,” was all I was able to say in response rolling over and moving to get back on my feet. Once on my feet, I moved to brush some of the mud off of my uniform, but there was none.

“The mud here doesn’t stick, so you don’t get dirty.”

“Oh,” I tilted my head. Magic has the strangest of applications.

“Ready for round two?” He asked.

I shook the thoughts about magic out of my head and took my stance, slowly tilting the blade towards my opponent once more. This time, the blade was shaking. Confused, I looked to the base to see if it was wobbling of flexing for some reason, but as I got to the guard, it became apparent the true cause. My hands were shaking, and I was nervous. There was no time for me to compose myself though, as when I got into my pose the bell rang once more.

Clang!

I struck first. A narrow swing towards his throat. My blade swished through the air inaudibly as my muscles pistoned to make the blow.

Just as my sword near hit him, one of his claws came up and smacked my blade to the side. This time, I was ready though. I wheeled my sword around to parry his other claw, jamming my guard against his hoof with a grunt.

As I had wanted, the claw was caught in such a way that I had complete control over his right hoof. And knowing this, I yanked him into a roll. The sudden jerk left him tumbling in the mud.

He was all too aware of my next move though, and stopped his tumble with a well timed kick that launched him back at me again. His right claw led the charge and I wasn’t sure I wanted to attempt to block or parry such a blow.

So I didn’t. Instead I sidestepped out of his way, bringing my sword down where I projected his path to lead him. But Sneezy also wasn’t where I expected him to be. Instead, one of his claws was about to make a sharp jab into my hip.
Instinctually I would have twisted into a sharp kick. However, I think he’s acting based on his own instincts, and trying to guess my own. Instead of delivering a solid kick into his chest, I swung my sword down over his foreleg.

It was a feint, and he fell for it perfectly. Levering my guard in his claw, I pulled him into a kick.
There was a deep sounding thud as my leg collided with the side of his body.

But instead of sending him flying as I planned, I soon found myself on my back.

Sneezy and anticipated the blow and twisted himself and me around. I tried to roll away, but I felt a sharp pain in my back as Sneezy drove his claw in for a follow-up. The blow sent me rolling across the pen, and again I lost my breath.

Clang!

“Come on! Are you even trying?” Sneezy impatiently asked. “I thought you’d be better than this.”

Instead of answering, I gasped for air. I’ve never encountered someone this vicious. I thought I knew how to fight well, and here I am, being taught a lesson by someone I’d just met. It doesn’t make sense.

“Hey, get up!” Yelled Sneezy. “It was to three wins. You better at least let me have the satisfaction of beating you a third time.”

My opponents sudden change in attitude bewildered me. “H-huh?”

I rolled over and stood back to my feet shakily. My back hurt from the fierce blow he’d just given me, and I rubbed the sore spot with a gauntleted hand. Mail does nothing to soften a blow, but my gambeson should. His kick had been enough to make my back ache despite that. That thought made me feel nauseous. Or maybe it was me getting tossed across the training pen like a ragdoll.

“Hay Bale,” Sneezy said calmly.

Confused, I asked what he meant.

“Jolly Roger,” he continued, ignoring my question.

“What are you saying?” I asked again.

“True Sword, Hot Hooves.”

Instead of pointlessly questioning him again, I simply awaited him to continue.

“Those are the names of the ponies you murdered yesterday,” he said staring into my eyes. “Those are the names of my friends who aren’t able to spar with me anymore, because of you.”

Perhaps it was the light or my own imagination, but I could have sworn I saw glint in the corner of his eye.

“The mission they were to perform was supposed to be easy. ‘Escort six VIPs and one guest to Canterlot Palace from the train station’. They prepared by complaining about how bored they would be, and how they couldn’t wait to come back and just sleep the day off. After all, they’re some of the most battle hardened ponies here,” Sneezy paused to look around at all of the other guards who were now just watching, “They had seen and fought more than any of these useless heaps of armor. And they had a simple mission in one of the safest cities on all Equus. And yet some unknown skilled warrior they were supposed to be protecting savagely murdered them in the streets- and for what?” He calmly continued his rhetoric. “For you to make a show, and impress the Princess.”

His speech’s words sank in, carving open a deep wound in my soul. I felt nothing but remorse, yet here I was all the better for the lives I took. And why? Because I’m special? Because I was brought here by some powerful being with a purpose? These ponies are still people. But I couldn’t control myself. I’m such a tragic mess that I made others suffer for it. Hay Bale, Jolly Roger, True Sword, and Hot Hooves all lived short lives because I brutally maimed and slaughtered them in a fit of madness. How am I supposed to be a saviour when I’m down in a hole like this? Why am I here? I drank dirty spring water like a fool and was transported to a nonsensical land to be some sort of god? What rubbish! What absolute nonsense! What filth I am!

“And now, after proving yourself to Her Royal Highness, you can’t bother to put in the effort to prove to anyone else how capable you are. You’re disgusting. If you had the barest of appreciation for what it means to be a warrior, you’d at least honor the dead and treat me with the respect to fight at your fullest.”

As I ashamedly stared into the lower face guard of my helm, I heard a small thump. It was my own training sword, which had fallen out of my grasp into the mud below. My hands trembled. On the verge of tears, I heard Candlestick utter the words,

“Pick it up.”

When I turned to her, she only said once more, “Pick it up,” looking at my sword.

Without thinking, and with shaking hands I slowly knelt down to pick up my blade.

“Are you ready?” She asked Sneezy.

Sneezy only nodded once more in reply.

“W-wait,” I protested meekly, “I-I need to think…” I was not given a chance though.

Clang!

Once more Sneezy lept at me, one claw in front of the other.

Without thinking, almost mechanically, I brought my sword up. This time, I swung as hard as I could into the already airborne earth pony, sending him off course and crashing into the mud with a slick noise.

“I said wait, damn you!” I shouted to Candlestick.

Candlestick, shocked, turned her gaze to Sneezy who’d already recovered.

“There it is!” Sneezy exclaimed with something akin to joy. “Fight me with that! I’ll see if you’re really worthy to lead us!”

“I don’t want to fight right now!” I shouted in return, stabbing my training blade into the ground before me. “I-I’m a fool, a coward, a madman, just leave me be!” I stormed my way to the edge of the pen to leave, but as I arrived at the fence, Sneezy pulled me back in and threw me to the ground. I heard a loud tear, as he’d assumedly torn my tabard.

And while I was on the ground, defenseless, Sneezy pounded away at my body. It felt like multiple ponies were beating away at me like I was a war drum. Maybe it was multiple ponies. There was a lot of shouting and noises as the merciless beating seemingly continued for ages.

Until it stopped. All of the shouting voices went quiet, and heavy hoof steps trotted around nearby.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sounded a familiar feminine voice.

My helmet was still ringing and the pain everywhere seared my body. Bruises were already beginning to form no doubt, and maybe even some bones were cracked. I felt a terrible pain in my chest, it sharply struck whenever I tried to breath, threatening to pop my lung.

“Shameful,” she commented, after observing the situation.

“You two, carry him to the infirmary. I’ve just convened with my generals, there’ll be a this evening in celebration of his knighting, and other news I’ll deliver to him there. Try not to rough him up again today.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Sorry, Your Majesty.” Too voices that sounded awfully like Candlestick and Sneezy Trees answered in unison.

“Don’t apologize to me,” replied the voice dryly. “The chain of command exists for a reason,” she warned, before exiting.

And so, wordlessly, I was hauled away. My head was spinning, my body throbbed dully, and the pain made me writhe. I felt something warm and wet somewhere, and the pain in my lung made it hard to breathe, for fear of death.

But what hurt the most was not of a physical nature, but the words that hung onto my chest, and a new one, “Sh… Shameful...” I gargled out.

Author's Note

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I think this is much higher in quality than the last few chapters. You Agree?

Sorry for the year long hiatus.