Day 75, of the experiment

The subject shows remarkable resilience to the outside world, even displaying shell hardening beyond what I had originally intended. Despite my Sister's constant assaults for me to abandon the project and start anew, I still believe this one shows promise. It does consume an inordinate amount of my magic each day to keep it alive, and the process is becoming tiresome, as its brain has yet to fully comprehend that it is without a hydra mother. However, I believe that, in time, it will come to see me as a surrogate, and perhaps more, if the shell is indicative of its other faculties.

- Personal Diary of Princess Luna

"So, the ceremony is really pretty simple," the old ex-guard commented, walking through the doors to the throne room.

Currently, it was empty, the Princesses having taken a recess for lunch, and so Soul had arrived to practice for the next days events. It was an impressive room, to be sure. All of it was pure white marble, with large, stretching columns spiraling to a lofty ceiling, resembling a cathedral. At the room's head was a large central dais, bearing two thrones, one white, and one black. One of which stood out starkly with the room's overall radiant color scheme. They really hadn't done anything to make it easier for the new princess to fit in, had they?

"So, you'll come up through here after they say your name, you'll have an honor guard escort," the graying pony droned. He'd given this talk many times, of that, Soul was certain. It was in the blank expression on his face, how he was already thinking about what he was going to do next, even as his eyes and hooves directed Soul with calculated precision.

"You'll kneel here," he pointed at a small notch at the foot of the dais that wasn't normally visible, "then the Princesses say their bit, and you stand up, give a bow, put the medal on, turn and smile. Any questions?" The old stallion turned to look at him.

"What time should I be here?" Soul asked respectfully.

A huff, "You'll have the day off tomorrow, just stay in your barrack, and you'll be escorted here whenever the Princesses are ready for you."

Soul nodded, "Then really, that's all I need. Thank you, sir, for your direction."

He grunted, and took his leave, grumbling out of earshot, "Stupid kids. Get a medal for anything these days."

Soul knew this to be untrue. He'd looked into it almost as soon as he was released from the hospital. Though there had not been armed conflict with another nation for a hundred years, at least. The Princess, well, Princesses now, still maintained very high standards for awards, so it was very difficult for anypony to achieve them. Soul had just been in the right place at the right time.

The old pony left Soul alone in the huge, empty room. Wondering what to do. For the first time in... well, over a month, Soul had free time. He was off duty, pending his award. Officially, it was designated as a "recovery period", but he had a feeling it was just part of his "good job finding that group of murderers" package. Not that he was complaining. In fact, he felt the sudden desire to find out exactly what all that business entailed. Hadn't Hallow said something about a large sum of money? He would have to seek her out. Where was she?

Soul looked around himself, peering through the stone walls of the castle, the wooden doors, and high, lofty towers. He couldn't See her anywhere, he'd spent enough time around her to know the colors she gave off, even when in disguise apparently. He decided the next best thing would probably just be to wander aimlessly about the city until he found her. He didn't have anything else to do, and an exploration of Canterlot could prove interesting.

Setting out from the castle, Soul realized he'd left his gear on from this morning, and teleported it back onto his bunk in E-5. He looked down at his dark blue fur, ruffled and matted, despite his best efforts. Some things, magic wasn't particularly good at. Knowing the meaning of the word "style", for one. It could clean, it could smooth, just about, but the finer details? That required either a lot of time and precision, or a hoof's touch.

It also occurred to him that he had absolutely nothing to wear the next day, not a hint of formal clothing at all. Should he go in his guard uniform? No, no, one didn't wear workpony's clothing to a board meeting. Many important and interesting ponies would be there, sycophants and court gossips, at least, actual nobles at most, once they'd heard that the scion of the Keeper house had returned to Canterlot. Though his family was so ancient, he wasn't even sure if there was anything left for him there.

It was a brisk, chilly day in Canterlot when Soul Keeper stepped out onto the streets. Though the sky was a clear, crystal blue, with the sun hanging high, chill gusts blew down the corridors of the city, ruffling feathers and manes, making all reach for coats and scarves.

Yep, I definitely need clothing, Soul thought as he fought against the wind, teeth beginning to chatter. It was nothing life-threatening, merely uncomfortable, for those unprepared. But first, he had to make sure that he had the bits to buy anything to begin with. Now where was that blasted unicorn?

Soul sensed something, very faintly, almost at the sedge of his senses. She was on the far side of the city. Great.

Soul hustled down the bustling, cobbled streets. Past grand facades, and humble shops all crammed together like so many sardines. Here, rich and poor mixed shoulder to shoulder, though most were middle-class. Poverty was almost nonexistent here, not like what he'd heard about Manehattan. Nobles with monocles and tall hats, dresses with pearls and lace, mixed freely with practical working smocks, builder's hats, and artists' easels, all mingling together down the streets and thoroughfares. There was an energy to Canterlot. Like every day was Hearth's Warming Eve, a sense of gleeful wonder that danced and hummed throughout the city like a pulse. Smiles, kind and genuine, were on nearly every face he passed in the sprawling capital, many whistled, sang, and laughed. It all seemed so... very different.

When was the last time I was here? he wondered as he passed several bundled up fillies playing tag near a grey old antique shop, their parents chatting with the aged proprietor in a familial tone, Father took me once, I think, yes? I could have sworn the ponies were more serious, their faces more dour. Surely only a few years has not changed so much.

Whatever the cause was, Soul was glad for it. His spirits, already content and relaxed, became fascinated and excited at the prospect of discovering what the city had to offer.

Stay focused, Soul, he reminded himself as a gust of wind made him shiver, find Hallow, ask where your money is, then spend the day being excitable.

It took him the better part of three hours to stumble his way down from the castle, accidentally down dead-end streets, and past wrong turns, before he got within reasonable range of the dusky blue mare. He was glad for it, though. The chance to explore was welcome, and he had nowhere else to be. Although he didn't want to be where he'd ended up, that was for certain.

The trail took him to what seemed like a much less reputable part of the city. Dingy grey walls streaked with mold and slime loomed, overshadowing the narrow streets. A stray rat or three scurried in packs, eyeing him, turning away when their noses detected nothing of work

She's here undercover, Soul guessed as he sidestepped a pile of... something. Probably had once been food. Even here didn't feel as dangerous as it probably should have. The stained walls and dirty streets bespoke of a lack of time to clean them, rather than a lack of care. Still, one could see small gardens and flower pots in front of homes and stores, meticulously crafted storefronts and display windows. These were hard working ponies, they were tired, run down, and worn. But not dangerous, not yet.

What is she doing here? Soul wondered. He didn't draw anypony's eye as he trotted down the street, from the gaunt and listless cast of their faces, he doubeted anything drew their attention much until they'd slept. Finally he came upon what looked to be a kind of squat tavern, low and whitewashed. It almost seemed as if it had been squished down, there was a sag in the middle, and cracks ran across the white paint like stress lines.

The creaking wooden door leaned dispassionately in its rusty iron frame, screeching open occasionally to disgorge some of its occupants back out onto the street, their spirits high.

Soul walked in between one of the bouts of raucous activity, and beheld about what he expected. A half-grimy lowly lit room with a sagging cross-beam ceiling, and an equally sagging staircase leading up to the second floor. Stains of both blood and beer were spattered about the floor and tables, though nothing about the bar seemed inherently violent. Great howls of laughter arose from every corner in the room, and the atmosphere was merry, if not light.

Soul quickly disguised himself, becoming a burly black earth pony with sparkling emerald eyes. He adopted the same disenfranchised expression that those outside had shared, and loped into the room. He spotted Hallow immediately, however she was in disguise as well, no doubt. She definitely didn't fit in naturally. Her posture did, but not her smooth coat brushed to an immaculate sheen, nor the calculating scowl, or the eyes that sifted through the crowd as one does for gold. She was another creature altogether.

Soul slumped along over to where she was sitting, on a bench in the corner, and thumped down next to her.

She glanced over at him distastefully, "Do I know you?"

Soul turned his head ponderously, the shadows flickering from the room's hearth only deepening the false lines under his tired eyes, "Hmm?"

She rolled her eyes, "I said, do I know you?"

He leaned in real close, an uncomfortable distance, squinting. He saw her hoof go down to a pouch on her waste, before he sat back up straight, "Reckon so."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? And how's that?"

Soul smiled, "Well, you're always easy to spot."

Her eyes went wide, "Damnit Soul!" she hissed, turning so it looked like she was talking to somepony else, "I'm undercover!"

He snorted, "For what? Fleas?"

She growled, "No, private, for the ponies that put you in the hospital."

Soul looked around at the loud, brash, sodden, everyday coral of ponies, "Well, you're not going to find them here."

She sighed, "What do you want, Soul?"

He placed an invisible magic hoof on her shoulder, "Hey," she turned to look him in the eye, which he let shine through for a moment, "I'm sorry. You forgive me?"

She looked at him a few seconds more, and let out a frustrated sigh, "Yeah, I forgive you. You can get off me now."

He removed the hoof.

She turned to him fully, nopony else was really paying attention to them, "So what do you want?"

He spoke quietly, "I don't really have any civilian clothes, and it would appear that my money's all tied up somewhere."

When he mentioned money, Hallow cast a worried glance around, Soul waved her off, "Nopony can hear us, don't worry about it. So where is this reward you promised I had?"

She was still looking around, "Couldn't you have come to talk to me about this literally anywhere else?"

He shrugged, "I need it, and this is where you were when I needed it. How was I supposed to know what you'd be doing."

She gave him a look, "You're smarter than that, Soul. You'd know that if I was here, I'd be here for a reason."

He nodded, "And now that I know the reason, I have deemed this place an appropriate one to talk about this."

She huffed, "Go to the Royal Treasury and ask for "the third salute". There, now, off with you."

Soul eyed her, and paused for several seconds, "This isn't a prank is it?"

She gave him a deadpan stare, "Soul. Really?"

He shrugged, "Ponies here in the city are generally pranksters. I've found that it's smart to assume until proven wrong. I'm still almost sure Deevy was half trying to kill me when he put grass colored knives in my salad."

Her eyes went wide, "He did what?"

Soul waved her off, "Forget about it. Like I said, pranks and all that. Third salute, got it. Thanks, Board."

She mouthed the word before cursing and slapping him on the back, making him chuckle as he turned to leave. When he got outside he stopped and groaned aloud, before starting his hours long return journey to the castle.

It wasn't a prank, as turned out. Hallow was honest, and when he arrived and spoke the pass phrase to one of the dour, helmeted guards, it fave him a slip of paper.

"Present this to any bank in the city," it said, "thank you for your services."

It was then stamped in strange ink with two different seals, one being the Royal Insignia, and the other being a strange circle filled with a pattern that Soul did not recognize. He did as it said, and headed for the nearest bank, easily distinguishable by the amount of Greed that rose from it, drifting across the winds like a bad smell.

It was a well-to-do affair, with polished yellow marble floors and columns which Soul tilted his head up to look at as he walked past. The tellers all sat behind immaculate glass, talking with dozens of ponies, there must have been at least fifteen different windows. A gigantic golden chandelier lit the place, with a cascading, warm glow.

Soul walked calmly over to one of the lines and waited his turn for the teller, a professional looking light grey pegasus, with hair designed in the shape of a storm cloud, and square glasses over light green eyes, "Welcome to First Equestrian sir, how can I help you today?"

He smiled, "Hello, I'm Private Soul Keeper, I'm here to turn this in?" He slipped the piece of paper over to the attendant, and her smile vanished, replaced by a look of stern concentration.

She hummed as she picked it up, and held it up to a little lamp she had sitting on her marble desk. She then wheeled around in her rolling chair over to a silver keypad on the wall. She punched in a few numbers, and a door popped open, revealing a microscope. She held the piece of paper underneath it, twiddling with some knobs, until it seemed to satisfy her. She then pulled out a pail of milky purple fluid that she dunked the paper in, then held it, once again, under the microscope.

How... long am I going to be here, Soul wondered.

The answer: two hours. Two hours of the mare shuffling around the small interior space like an escape room. Accessing various secret hatches, devices, bizarre techniques, and even a bucket of ice cream. Finally, she handed it off to what looked like her supervisor, a very similar looking mare in a sharp blue business suit, who took it into a back room.

The pegassus returned to him, her smile no less bright, "Well, sir, it appears that the paper is genuine! We're just testing the Royal Insignia now, and then we'll move on to the amount seal."

Soul refused to let his eyebrows raise even an inch, "You have many counterfeits, do you?"

She laughed, a tinkling sound, like rain, "No, not here, but this is standard procedure for any bank that is prestigious enough to be set up in Canterlot proper. All of the equipment is provided by the princess."

Soul nodded, then quirked an ear, "Princess? Don't you mean Princesses?"

She looked shocked, and then blushed, "Oh! I am so sorry, forgive me. Saying "Princess" just comes a lot more naturally. Honestly, a lot of my friends believe that this "Princess Luna" is a myth. Nopony ever sees her. And how likely is it that a figure from mythology would come back now of all times? Tirek will show up next I suppose, or King Sombra," she shook her head.

Soul frowned, "Well, I assure you, Her Highness Princess Luna is quite real. I myself have seen her and heard her speak, though she did not do so with me directly."

The mare frowned slightly at his tone, but regained her smile, "Well, that's a relief to hear, anyway, from a guard. Do you know much of what goes on in the castle?" She leaned forward eagerly, and batted her eyelashes. Disgraceful could she be any more obvious? And in such a public-

Wait a minute, Soul thought, all suspicion turning to himself, I'm probably the one causing this aren't I? Damn, I really need to turn that off, it's annoying.

Before he could speak, they were interrupted by the supervisor coming out of her room, and walking quickly across the hall. It appeared that whatever she carried i her hoof was on fire. Hot pink fire.

"What the..." Soul muttered as he watched her go.

"Ah! The Insignia is fine! Excellent news, just a few more minutes and you'll be on your way, sir," The mare said, leaning over more, and flashing a bright smile. She had an excellent smile.

Down boy, he thought to himself, "Wonderful. So, how many of these do you usually get, anyway?"

She looked thoughtful, and tapped her chin, "Well, that's an interesting question, because this, so far, looks like a retirement slip, but you're obviously not being retired anytime soon," she cast an appraising look over his body, and apparently liked what she saw, "so I've never seen this before, you must have done something special."

Soul shrugged, and looked past the mare studying the tile work on the walls. He looked down a few seconds later, to find her leaning with cheek on hoof staring dreamily at him.

"Has anypony ever told you, you have beautiful eyes?" She asked, then shot up in her seat, mouth agape, "I-I-I... sir, I am so sorry!"

He chuckled and waved to her, "No offense taken, miss! And no, not may ponies have. Same to you, like the iridescent shimmer of a lunar moth's wings. Green as a sunkissed field, ripe and glistening with the dew of the morning."

It was bad, cheesy, and over the top, and it made her swoon. She sighed dramatically, and went back to lounging on her hoof staring at him. He... didn't mind actually. She was pretty, though not nearly as cute as Halifax, and he wanted to make a good impression. He subtly flexed some of his muscles as she watched, and he noticed small gasps from her as she observed his physique, eventually the gunshow had to end, however.

The supervisor exited the second back room with a different piece of paper, and a small hole in her suit near the shoulder. It looked... melted?

She handed the note to the daydreaming pegasus, who took it and lazily handed it to Soul, who made sure their hooves touched for longer than necessary.

"Thanks for your business, sir," she said in a sultry tone.

He smiled, "Anytime."

Exiting the building, Soul found himself once again on the cold, windy streets of Canterlot, and was resolved in his next destination. He looked at the note he'd been handed, which was a smaller piece of paper, with two different symbols on it, and a number.

100,000

That... that couldn't be real, right? Or- or the currency had devalued? Inflation? 100,000 bits?

That... is a lot of money, he understood now by what Hallow and the teller had meant by this was normally for ponies leaving the service, because the Treasury would soon be empty if they handed these out willy nilly. He saw that the paper was enchanted, no it was the ink. It appeared to keep a record of itself, and would change whenever he bought something. This was a powerful tool, indeed.

Well, I know where I'm going! Might as well get moving.

With that thought Soul bustled down through the busy streets to a shop he'd spied earlier while lost. It was a bit off the beaten path, nut he new fine quality when he saw it, and this had the finest in the city. The building was a bit strange, all the ones on the street it occupied were. they all sort of leaned in different directions, mostly hanging out and over the street so that the road seemed to envelope you, and not in a bad way. All the windows were littered with lamps and candles, casting a bright radiance about, and making the place feel warm, even when standing in the chill. The particular shop he was here to see was a clothing store by the name of Bolt. It was a very simple name, but the storefront told of quite admirable success.

Two stories tall, with an attic, it seemed, the building was made entirely of hard wood, with a large bay window out front nearly cutting into the street. Inside, a rainbow's worth of colors shimmered, promising that which Soul desired most. Scarves, hats, cloaks, woolen socks, the owner clearly knew his audience with the seasons turning from autumn to winter. What had particularly caught Soul's discerning eye was a long, grey scarf that practically shined with how smoothly the cloth was woven together, you almost couldn't even tell it was separated at all, but rather one solid sheet of grey. It looked marvelously smooth, and still claimed to be woolen. Luckily it looked like they still had it, though the hour grew late.

Soul walked into the shop, and a small tinkling bell sang out to alert its master.

"Coming! I'll be there in just a second!" A cheery old voice called from deeper into the shop. Soul stood and breathed deeply in. It was blessedly warm, and smelled like a variety of complementary scented candles.

From the back of the large room, filled to the brim with all sorts of multicolored articles of clothing, came a ruddy-nosed, jolly looking old stallion. His eyes were sharp with intellect, the color of a thunderstorm, though they crinkled up with his wide open smile. His wiry salt-and-pepper mane stuck out at all angles, though it seemed to fit him somehow.

"Welcome, welcome!" he called, his voice boisterous and cheerful, "Welcome to the Bolt! I'm the proprietor and fashioner here, Loomis Bolton, nice to meet you!"

Soul gladly and firmly shook the stallion's hoof with a smile, "Soul Keeper, Mister Loomis, and may I say what a lovely shop you have here!"

The stallion clapped and chuckled, as though Soul had just entirely made his day, "Oh, well, thank you kind young sir! My pride and joy, she is. Built her myself, you know! Way back in 17- bah, but you aren't here for a history lesson," he laughed again, "what might old "Mister Loomis" whip up for one such as yourself today?"

Soul nodded to the man, and looked around, "Well, as I can see you're well prepared for, it's growing a mite chilly outside, and I don't have any winter clothes at all. And then as I was walking, I saw that lovely scarf in your window..."

"Oh, that one caught your eye, did it," he chuckled again. He seemed to do that a lot, "Well, you have good taste young Master Keeper! One of my finest pieces, and I'd be happy to part with it, if it means one more safe from frostbite out there. Some, let's have a look."

The gentle old stallion showed Soul several pieces of similar quality to the display, and Soul picked a lovely silver scarf that brought out the white in his mane quite nicely. It was warm too, Soul was amazed when he looked and Saw that is was in no way enchanted, for it gave off enough comfort to be.

"Now," Loomis said, growing only very slightly more serious, which Soul imagined to be about as far as the man could go, "We must discuss your price range! As I did say, this is one of my finer works, and while I'm happy to see it go around the neck of a happy customer, an honest pony is paid honestly, eh? So, usually something like this would cost fifty bits, but I like you, son, you seem a good lad. So I'll give it to you for forty-five, how's that sound."

Soul smiled, and nodded in thought, "I would be very grateful to you for such a kindness, Mister Loomis, but I must decline. You see, I also like you, which is precisely why I'll be paying sixty and no less."

The old stallion opened his mouth to speak, and then paused, "I must have misheard, because to me it sounded like you raised the price."

"I did."

Loomis peered at him over wireframe spectacles, "You're not very good at this haggling thing, are you, son?"

Soul laughed, and clapped the old weaver on the shoulder, "Sixty, and that's my final offer!"

Loomis looked at him for just a bit more, before joining him in laughing, "Well, it appears you've made me an offer I can't refuse! Alright, if you're sure of it, lad, I'll take your offer."

Soul took out the slip of paper, and showed it to the stallion, whose eyes bugged out and he sputtered, "A hundred thousand?!" he looked to Soul, "Forgive me, but, you don't strike me as a noble!"

Soul nodded, "I'm not, actually, I'm a guard. I received this reward for going above and beyond in the line of duty, or something like that."

The old man actually grew straight faced, and nodded sharply, "Ah, well, I'm glad to serve you. Always had a lot of respect for you young folk that choose to help, rather than hinder. And if you've been given that, then you've helped more than most."

Soul smiled, "Well, I did my best, anyway. Still, I've got more than enough to give some to a new friend, eh?"

Loomis nodded and bellowed a laugh, "Aye, son, that you do! Anything else you wanted to buy at a markup, perchance?"

Soul did, actually. He bought a luxurious new coat that fit him perfectly, colored to go with the scarf, as well as some earmuffs, and a few specialty items that wouldn't be ready for a week or so, yet. He bought a fitted, but still incredibly well made, smart looking suit and waistcoat, of some of the highest quality he'd yet seen.

When finally he bade goodbye to his new friend and walked back out onto the street, Soul noticed how dark i had gotten. Of course, with his new gear, the cold, even amplified by the growing dark, didn't penetrate one bit. He was in his own cocoon of wonderful warmth. It was a shame he needed to get up early the next day for the ceremony, or he'd stay out on the town well into the morning, just... celebrating being alive. He felt like he should be rejoicing, but he didn't quite know why.

Still, duty called. And with it, sleep.

He walked for perhaps another hour back up to the Castle, where he was greeted by the guards at the gate that let him in. It took him a while longer to wind his way down, back to the barracks down in the spooky catacombs, as some overly dramatic members of the guard liked to call it.

He was greeted heartily, and made fun of for his swanky new clothing, by the members of E-5. It was also there that he learned he had to wear his armor for the ceremony, so no to the lovely outfit he'd planned. After all was said and done, he gratefully collapsed into bed with the rest of them.

It was only then when he got a little nervous about the fact that he'd be standing in front of both Princesses, all his friends, and a large crowd of strangers the next day. That made it a little harder to fall asleep.

Soul faced downward, head leaning on the wooden haft of the spear, the butt grinding into the rough stone of the barrack floor. Torchlight reflected off of the polished wood, shining in his white hair. His stomach was roiling with emotion, and he did his best to quiet it.

"Congratulations, Soul!" Pocket Rocket called as he exited the barrack for room duty. Soul waved a hoof, still staring dead-eyed at the floor.

Control, control, I need to control it, he breathed deeply in through his nose, squeezing his eyes, and locking his jaw. It did nothing to help the nauseous anxiety that bubbled and lapped in waves at his throat.

What is taking them so long? he thought savagely, a growl almost escaping his throat. Something needed to happen, before he drove himself insane with nerves. He needed to be moving, acting. Waiting quietly as he was about to be reviewed by the highest, and most beloved, authorities in the nation did nothing for him. His eyes opened, and fixed on the training dummy in the corner with a glare so malicious he could have sworn the wood actually buckled slightly.

Soul stood, and walked over in a combat stance on his back two hooves. He needed to act, needed to move... needed to fight.

"Nervous, eh?" Knives Deevy whispered from his bunk as Soul glided past, "figures you would be. What happened out there was probably just a-"

CRACK

Soul struck the dummy with a force that sent it spinning, nearly knocking it off of the iron pole that held it set into the floor. Then he went to work.

He spun, and danced, strike after blow after cleave, pounding the dummy. Soul let himself be lost in it, following a form he had learned... so long ago... in a time he barely remembered...

Soul knew not how long he fought against his imaginary opponent. He knew only the whistling of the wind in his ears, the subtle clinks of his armor whenever his movements were just barely off in his control of momentum, and the scuffs of his back hooves striking the floor as he danced.

"... Soul!" Someone shouted, and Soul spun into attention, slamming his spear down, and cracking it in half, splintering in three different places.

In front of him was a very shocked looking Lay Decker, and Marshmallow Cascade. He then turned slowly to his broken spear, still breathing quickly from the action. With a flick of precious magic, the wood snapped perfectly back into place, not a groove out of line. Soul looked back at the two, "Yes, what is it?"

"Celestia almighty..." he heard another guard whisper. It was Skelly, a nickname earned by the zebra's unique coloration. Nopony could pronounce his real name.

Soul turned to what he was staring at, and blinked when he saw that the training dummy had been torn apart. It was split, broken, bent, and knocked silly in at least a dozen spots, far removed from the proud pony-like figure that had once stood there. If it were real, it would have died several times over due to concussions, bone breaking, and loss of internal organs.

"Is the honor guard here?" Soul asked a little sheepishly, wishing to get away from the awkward subject of what he'd just done.

Lay nodded slowly, "We... uh... ahem, we are the honor guard, Soul."

He gestured to the armor they were wearing. Different from a normal guard's attire, this had many more ribbons and sharp edges. It was clunky, but pretty and showy, polished to a mirror shine.

"Yeah," Marshmallow seconded, "they asked for volunteers, and we singed up. Who better to walk you down the isle, eh?" she laughed. Good, it was good that she could laugh about things like that, it showed that she wasn't bitter.

Soul chuckled, "I suppose it would have to be you two, wouldn't it? Alright, I'm ready. Let's get a move on."

"Stop shaking."

"I'm not shaking, you're shaking!"

"Nice comeback. You're not even the one going up there, why are you so nervous?"

"I don't like small spaces!"

Lay looked around the massive, practically open-air throne room. He turned back to Marshmallow, "What?"

Her teeth chattered as she surveyed the murmuring crowd before them, "You know what I mean!"

Soul shook his head and turned back to face the throne room. He waited in the wings, while the Princesses dealt with court matters. At least, he thought so. He hadn't looked at them yet. Just Celestia's voice was almost enough to make him shiver every time she spoke. It was angelic, it had to be magical, nopony could speak that way without help. Not even alicorns should have that power.

"And now, my sister and I would like to make a special commemoration. Private Soul Keeper! Please, step forward."

Soul felt ice clamp down both his spine and stomach, keeping him calm and collected, and he thought as if in a dream. Everything was foggy, and a little... rapidly sluggish. He went smoothly forward, and for a moment the stars seemed to align. His armor gleamed in the morning light streaming through the windows, his cloak billowed at just the right moment, his steely eyes locked resolutely ahead, and his white hair drifted dramatically across his brow. It was the perfect moment. It was when he saw them up close.

Celestia, could she even be described? Larger than even him by at least a foot, her kind and wise face knew no age, only timeless and eternal beauty. Her figure was legend throughout the Gryphon Kingdoms, The Dragon Lands, and even as far as distant Chineigh. Her hooves shone magnificently, clean and polished with a rainbow sheen. Her magenta eyes bubbled with mirth, and retained a serene aloofness granted by her absolute authority. Her smile was kind, genuine, and weighty, it was an addictive smile, made you feel like you needed it to survive. And her famous mane, drifting in prismatic waves in a nonexistent wind. Their ripples and folds melding and snapping playfully in the air was almost intentionally mesmerizing.

Beside her sat her sister, smaller, and in no wise less beautiful. She was... rather cute, actually. Her gaze remained collected, but you could see an inward awkwardness that made her immediately likable. Her body was almost as perfect as her sister's, with just a hint less of the curvaceous heaven, and a little more danger. She seemed on edge, ready to pounce, but that only made her all the more exciting. Her sister was the face, and she was the steel behind the words. These thoughts about the Princess of the Night made Soul a little uncomfortable, they were probably related, after all.

Regardless, Soul proudly walked up unto the dais, and stood so close that, were it not for the chill that gripped him entirely, he would have started hyperventilating. He kneeled heroically with a flourish on the designated spot, and heard several murmurs of appreciation from the crowd, most were notably female.

Then Princess Celestia stepped even closer, she must have been right over his head!

"This loyal subject, and a member of the distinguished elite regiment of the Royal Guard, honored all of Equestria three weeks ago. While supervising the menial labor of the prisoners in the Royal Quarry, Soul Keeper performed an act of extraordinary strength, bravery, selflessness, and kindness. He noticed that one of his fellow guards had fallen ill with exhaustion, and rushed to save her, risking life and limb to carry her on his shoulders to the top of the mountain, where she could be saved. He nearly lost his life in the process, but was astonishingly able to pull through, and save them both. For this act of unquestionable good, we, the Royal Princesses of Equestria, Celestia and Luna, Diarchs of the Sun and Moon, do hereby award him with the Equestrian Seal of Kindness, the element of harmony that his thoughtful actions embody wholly."

Well, it could have also been considered Generosity. He'd read up on the awards given out, and they tended to match one of the legendary Elements of Harmony. Unsurprisingly, the line between Kindness and Generosity was quite blurred in principal, he wondered what had been the deciding factor.

Soul stood, coming level with the Princess of the Sun, not daring to even look at her before giving a deep and long bow, again eliciting whispers from the assembly. He then stood full, and lowered his head, whereupon a soft weight settled on it, and a sense of swelling pride. He turned to the crowd, and gave another, although less deeply respectful, bow.

"Hail, Private Soul Keeper, the Kind!"

"HAIL!" the crowd roared, and then a great cheer arose from the throng, deafening Soul with its cacophony. He saw his friends wildly gesticulating, whooping, and laughing. He smiled wide, and actually felt a tear welling. He made sure to stop that before it got anywhere.

"Please wait a short while in the antechamber to your left," Soul heard a velvet whisper tickle his ear. A weaker stallion would have shivered, but Soul remained stock still, clenching his jaw, "My Sister would like a word with you, privately."

"As you command," he said quietly, bowing once more to the cheering crowd, and heading of to the side. He entered through a worn oak door, set into the wall about a foot so as not to be immediately obvious. As soon as the door shut behind him, it seemed all the energy and zeal of the past half hour abandoned him with a fury. Soul slumped down in the corner, face pressing against the stone, and breathed a shuddering breath. He felt so tired! Was that normal for things like this? He supposed he might have to get used to it, if he continued to perform as well as he had two weeks ago with the assassins.

Struggling back to his feet, Soul continued down a narrow stone hallway. This section was quite different from others of the castle, he noticed. The walls and floor seemed to be made from the same type of stone, a smoky grey, literally it looked like smoke. And as far as he could tell, there were no seams where block met block, or mortar where a crack had been sealed over. It was utter and entirely smooth, and gave off a very alien sensation.

There were no torches in the corridor, which wasn't a problem for him, but he did notice it, and find it odd. As he reached the end, he understood why. An octagonal chamber sat at the end of the hall, with eight braziers flickering with both blue and orange fire arrayed around the corner walls. The middle was covered in a large pelt rug, that seemed to be made of the stars themselves. On it were unceremoniously stacked some very comfortable looking pillows and blankets, with very low-set tables where fruits and sweets rested, as well as an extensive wine and tea selection. A break room for the goddesses, it seemed.

Soul walked over and sat on one of the pillows, finding it very suitably comfortable, and popped a few green grapes into his mouth, though they mostly tasted like ash. It would be strange for him to eat and do nothing as he sat waiting.

It took the better part of two hours, but Soul wasn't about to complain. He had nothing but time. He listened to the cases presented to the Princesses, and nodded at their judgement. He ate a few more grapes. Swallowed an apple for the fun of it, and downed a keg's worth of wine, which had no effect on him. Until eventually, the Night Princess' powerful magical aura slipped through the door he had come through, and soon the sound of shod hooves could be heard echoing on unbroken stone.

As Luna entered, she would find him contemplative, facing off to the side, playing with his medal in both hooves absentmindedly. It really was a pretty thing, a bronze and silver butterfly, intricately detailed, with jade antennae, Soul was impressed.

"Private," the diarch called out, and immediately Soul was standing at attention, hoof to his temple, staring straight ahead.

"At ease," she waved to him, and Soul relaxed, settling back into his chair. Her teal eyes bored into him as she stepped forward.

"Greetings, Private... Keeper. We- I am Princess Luna, of the Night. How art- er, how are thee?"

Soul regarded the luminescent pony, shining like a distant star, with absolute awe... and not a little bit of pity. Standing there, in the hallway, she didn't seem so large, nor so imposing. No less beautiful but... uncertain, lacking the stiff-backed confidence she'd had before. It was incredibly jarring, and made him stumble.

"I'm... I'm well, Princess. Er, and yourself?" Was he being irreverent? Should he speak differently, in the old way?

Surprisingly she seemed to find his diction pleasing, a small smile played across her ebony lips, "We... ahem, I am... well."

She was very hesitant to speak, but she seemed to be warming up.

Stepping forward, she settled down onto one of the larger pillows. Soul didn't even look at how soft her fur was, or how smooth and bubbly her flanks appeared, or how she smelled of supple lilacs. Nope. Didn't think about that at all.

She looked both nervous and in command of the situation at the same time, glancing away from him yet keeping a strong posture, again a strange juxtaposition from in the court, "W- I, have asked thee here to- wait," she scowled, "Pardon me, Private, it is difficult for me to adjust my speech."

Strange, he thought, She didn't used to have a problem with that.

...

Wait, what?

"I have called you here to discuss one thing only," now she seemed fully in control, and once again her mesmerizing aura of authority returned.

"Anything, Princess," he said, bowing his head.

She breathed in, "Once, long ago, there was a house that went by the name Keeper. They were... dear to me. I wished to know if..."

Soul stood, interrupting the princess and gave a long bow, so deep his nose almost touched the floor "Althos adenadem althriass, my Princess."

When he looked up, her shimmering eyes were wide with both shock and excitement. She leapt to her hooves in a very unprincess-like manner, disrupting the illusion of control, "So... it is true?" she asked eagerly, "The brood of Sable has lived so long?"

Soul looked at her, and nodded, "Much of the knowledge we were given was lost when we fled, but our legacy remains. In me."

She blinked, and looked confused, and then sad, "You... are the only heir?"

He nodded again, "As far as I am aware, my Princess, though I cannot speak of my cousins whom I know to have fled north so long ago."

She nodded, and turned away, clearly thinking deeply, before shaking herself, "Well. Know today, Soul Keeper, that you have made an old mare very, very happy. And made her feel not quite so... out of place."

He bowed again, "My Princess, if there is ever anything I can do to ease your burdens, on my family's great name, it will be done"

Then Princess Luna smiled at him.

"Nalthrilass adomon althesi, good Private. You have given us- me, much to consider. You are dismissed. Go, and enjoy this day of celebration. My sister and I thank you for your services."

Soul bowed his head, and left the room respectfully, leaving the Princess of the Night to think, almost overflowing with pride. It did not ever occur to him that the Princess felt somehow familiar, and that their meeting was not as awkward and stilted as it was for all others.

This fact was not lost on her. Nor her sister.

Author's Note

Soul has finally been rewarded for all his good deeds, and it appears he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon. What is the next opportunity that will present itself for him to rise? How will he be treated now that he is recognized as a minor hero? And have those sinister assassins really been stopped for good?

Find out, next time.