The Princess of the Moon stands rigid next to her construction, a large machine wrought of magic and black metal, four steel tips pointed down to a white egg at it's center. Sweat dots her brow, and her eyes shine with both anxiety, and excitement.

A pulse ignites from her horn, and the great beast whirs to life, grinding and cracking, groaning and beginning to rotate, it's magical matrix in full swing. The prongs pierce the egg, and ignite with fire in a rainbow of color, with black dominating the majority of the spectrum.

The egg begins to grow in size. It's surface, once white, grows darker, and darker, and begins to glow a soft blue. Soon it encompasses nearly all of the black pedestal it sits upon, creaking with increased mass, and still the machine continues. Lightning flashes behind the surface of the egg, and in the milky darkness, a shape can be seen writhing in torment.

"Live, my creation," the Princess whispers breathlessly, "Fight!"

Well... here it is, Soul thought as he stood outside the door. A double oak wood affair, with a plaque above labeled, "5-E A.U." He didn't know what the A.U. was for, maybe it was something about the part of the castle he was in? It was quite far back, near the western gate, one that wasn't used very often. Taking a deep breath, Soul pushed it open and walked in.

Immediately he was struck by a wall of noise, as the thick doors revealed a large with a wide assortment of ponies. All of them seemed to be just sitting around, on bunks, at tables, in random chairs, all talking or shouting or boasting together with their friends. All of them looked strong.

Soul wasn't too worried about that, he knew he could handle himself in a fight, there was something else that bothered him though, something he couldn't put his hoof on. Then he realized that the room seemed to be off. There were only twenty-odd ponies present, while the room seemed to be built to hold at least fifty, more in a pinch. As a result, the front area near the door was crowded, lively, lived-in, while the back half of the long room was row after row of tidy, untouched bunks. A very strange dichotomy.

As soon as the door opened, the front of the room went almost dead silent, as everypony's head snapped up to see who had entered. All of them stared right at Soul.

Well, that's auspicious, he grumbled to himself, and started to sweat. He hated large crowds, he hated being the center of attention, and he absolutely hated being the outsider, the one without a friend. He felt he could see them already, the groups, the pockets, the gangs. They were always there, wherever ponies went, they gathered with like-minded individuals. Here was no different.

He was eyeing up a particularly dangerous looking group near the back when a brown earth pony stallion called out, "You lost Pointy? Or are you a mute?"

Pointy? Soul shook it off, and smiled, "I'm actually looking for Corporal Larus, I was told to come here."

A yellow earth mare hollered, "Larus is out, but you can come wait with me awhile!"

This was followed by a few whistles and laughs, and the brown stallion shot her a glare, "Yeah Larus ain't here yet. What you need him for, surprise inspection?"

"Uh, no," Soul said nervously, "Actually I was assigned here."

Then things really got quite. Almost every jaw in there dropped, and they stared at him like his mane had caught fire. The brown one was the first to recover, "You mean... you're in E-5?"

Soul nodded, "Sure am, just got in today."

A few more moments of silence were followed swiftly by a massive cheer from those closest, and several fuzzy bodies collided with his own to tackle him into a hug, only to find he was much more substantial than what they were used to from unicorns. He heard one pony shout, "We got our Deavy a buddy!"

The brown stallion was smiling wide as he took Soul's hoof, a smile which Soul eagerly returned, laughing off a little of his nervous tension, "It is just great to meet you Pointy, always good to get fresh blood in 5-E, name's Lay Decker!"

Soul nodded and smiled wider, "I'm Soul Keeper, and I'm very excited to be here as well!"

There was a call of, "Just you wait!" followed by an uproar of laughter and good-natured thumps on the back, before Soul heard a gasp.

He watched as the smiles melted from the ponies in front of him's faces, and their lips seal faster than a cave-in. He knew they were looking at whatever was behind him, and so Soul turned around to face it.

Standing there was a fairly average white pegasus, with a blond mane that looked like it had been sheared short, and dull grey eyes that were the color of rainwater. Soul felt a chill run down his spine, and a deep sense of unease. This man was trouble, without a single doubt. The stallion had on a smart black jacket with silver buttons that jangled as he struck purposefully forwards, eating the gap between him and Soul nearly in a single step. On it was two golden chevrons, proudly polished and displayed over the right hoof shoulder.

"And what," his voice, sharp as glass, cut through the silence like a shiv through arteries, "is all this commotion about?"

Soul remarked on how simply aggressive the stallion's face was, seeming to jut out and attack you before he even said a word, as the brown stallion, Lay, spoke up, "New recruit, sir, just assigned," he pointed at Soul, who nodded, and cleared his throat."

"Sir, I, uh, presume you are Corporal Larus?"

The stallion said nothing, only glared.

Soul withheld a gulp, "I am, uh, Soul Keeper-"

"I know who you are recruit," the stallion said levelly, "and I know why you're here," he said the last part almost accusatorily, then began to pace back and forth in front of Soul, keeping his grey eyes fixed.

"Tell me, recruit, have you ever seen combat?" he said coolly.

"Yes sir!" Soul responded.

"No? Well that's a-" the Corporal stopped and turned, "beg your pardon?"

Soul snapped a sharp salute, "I have been a part of twenty-two combat engagements and suffered exactly eighty-nine injuries over the course of them. Twenty were crippling, one was near fatal. I am trained with a barrel-mounted pike, as well as two-hoof style spear, a glaive helm, tail flail, sword and shield, both bit and hoof styles, and advanced field medicine, sir!" Soul rattled off his accolades with only a tiny bit of self-satisfaction as he watched the eyes of all his new bunkmates widen, and their jaws slowly drop open.

Oh yes, this unicorn's not just a pansy spellslinger!

Larus had stopped pacing, and had simply looked at him with a slightly bored stare, "Are you finished?"

Soul remained silent, he knew better than to take the bait. That seemed to annoy Larus though, he saw the man's eyebrow twitch before he could stop himself.

"Very well then... Private Lay!" he barked.

The brown stallion jumped to attention, "Sir, yes sir!"

Larus gestured to Soul, "You'll be in charge of the rookie for today. Show him around, teach him the basics, make sure he remembers how to use the toilet along with all the other things he's got crammed in that pointy head of his, and drop him off at my office at exactly 21:00 hours. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" both Soul and Lay called out. Again, Larus seemed surprised at Soul's response. Perhaps he'd wanted to catch him unawares and punish him, or at least humiliate him for poor conduct.

That won't be happening anytime soon, Soul thought, his mind's eye slowly turning into a glare as he watched Larus swiftly depart from the room. He'd already decided that he didn't like the man, even though he would try to get himself to over the coming weeks, or else his life would be absolute Tartarus.

Lay was saying something to the Corporal that Soul didn't catch, but it was quickly cut off, and he merely gave a disheartened, "Yes, sir..."

Then, after Larus was gone, everypony just... went back to their business. Card games, chatting, some superstitiously pulled small flasks out from under pillows and took swigs, keeping an eye on the door, and Lay sighed again, shaking his head, before looking at Soul.

"Well, Pointy, you've got me in a right bind now."

Soul cocked his head, "I'm sorry about that. What did I do?"

Lay waved him off, "Aw, it's not your fault. Just bad luck on my part. The Corporal always makes whoever's closest show the rookie around, and today it just happened to be it. It also just so happens to be my day off, which I had planned to spend in town getting drunk off my ass, but life's a bitch I guess."

Soul blinked at the sudden profanity. He hadn't heard anything like it from any of the other ponies in town, nor from the mares he'd met in Ponyville. Perhaps guards here were just a rougher type.

Lay patted him on the shoulder, "Aw, well, nothing for it. Let's introduce you to everypony!"

All told there were nineteen ponies in the E-5 barracks when Soul had entered, four more filtered in while Soul was being introduced around, they were the last of the squad.

"Twenty-three ponies, isn't that a little low?" Soul asked.

Lay snorted, "Yeah, it is."

He wouldn't elaborate further.

Soul met eleven mares and twelve stallions that day. Fifteen earth ponies, seven pegassi, and one other unicorn. And he was a sorry looking piece of work, too.

"Pointy, I'd like you to meet our other resident beaker-brain, Knives Deavy," Lay said as they came up to the stallion. He was about a head and a half shorter than Soul, with an anorexic frame to boot. This guy looked like he'd been starving himself to death to get out of the army, but he had hard eyes, harder than most in this room. He probably got picked on a lot. His coat was a darker brown than Lay's, almost like... well, there really only was one other brown object that came to mind when you looked at Deavy. His horn was small, too, barley a nub that stuck out shallow and rounded from his fur. Sweet Celestia, what fate had done to this poor soul.

Soul stuck out his hoof in as friendly a manner as possible, "Good to meat you, Deavy. Glad to see I'm not the only one of us here. Soul Keeper is the name."

The small stallion shook his hoof without a word, eyeing him with suspicion, and a look that bordered more on rabid paranoia. Soul noticed he had bags under his blue eyes, heavy ones, he wasn't sleeping much, but at the same time his eyes were wired with energy. His mane was grey and short, but still somehow unkempt, messy. Soul's heart ached for him, at the same time as his rational mind told him to steer clear.

As Soul and Lay moved back towards the door of the barracks to leave, Lay said quietly, "You didn't have any valuables on you, did you?"

Soul shook his head slowly, "No, I gave the last of my physical bits on a guide to... well, to get some food. Why?"

Lay shrugged, "Deavy's known for making stuff disappear. The only magic he can do."

Soul also got to meet the yellow earth pony mare who'd offered for him to "wait with her" earlier. She was quite pretty, with smooth features and as much plump on the flank as someone who trained constantly was allowed to have. Most of the guards were still in their basic under-armor, a simple heavy cloth tunic that covered the barrel and forearm of each leg, so he couldn't see her cutie mark. She had a wild orange mane that curled at all the ends, and dark brown eyes.

"Oh, the new colt! I'm so glad to have you here, it gets stale after a while in here you know. Eventually you run out of ponies to break up with!" She giggled.

"Private Marshmallow Cascade," Lay said tiredly, "watch out for her, boy."

Soul gave a deep and formal bow to the mare, who gasped with delight, before shaking her hoof firmly, "Soul Keeper, Miss Cascade, a pleasure."

Cascade was beaming at him with a smile as wide as the crescent moon, "Oh, a romantic! Practically extinct your kind are, these days! You'll be fun, I can tell!"

In fact, all of the mares seemed to take to him quite well, and a few were giggling at him as he departed with Lay. The stallions all seemed like solid folk as well, strong and dependable. Except for Deavy, Celestia knows what was going on inside his head.

"Hey Lay?" Soul asked as they walked out of the room.

"Yeah?"

"Everypony seemed a little... tired today. Are they all alright?"

Lay sighed, and remained quiet for a long time as they traveled down the stone corridors of the castle. Soul didn't know where they were going, Lay hadn't told him.

They just walked. The clack of their hooves and the echo it made the only sound, the difference in the torches on the walls the only sign they weren't in the same place they'd started.

"You caught it right away, Pointy," Lay said sadly, "We're understaffed. Not many ponies know a Celestia-damned thing about fightin'. Those that do, even a little, get put in 5-E. A squad with no formal training schedule, and no reserves, because we're already supposed to have had our training. And no matter how small we get because of peacetime, we still do a squad's work. Most of us pull double shifts, any dangerous assignments are handed off to us, we're the last ones to get new equipment or rest days because, well, the up-tops figure we can handle ourselves."

Soul nodded in sympathy. It had seemed to him that some of those in the room, though still looking tough, were a bit on the green side when it came to combat. He'd noticed the way they'd watched him after he listed his skill set, with wariness, and a little bit of awe.

"Truth be told, I'm surprised that a unicorn like you is so physically experienced. Tartarus, my only qualifications were knowin' how to fight off the Timberwolves back home. And don't expect this kindness from none of the others, either," Lay said, pointing a hoof back at Soul, "just about everypony in there'll clam up if you try to ask 'em how they got in. Most of 'em are embarrassed, some just like the secrecy. I've just given up carin', really."

Soul gave Lay a sad look, "Hey, fighting Timberwolves is no easy task, those things are smart, and vicious. Not many ponies I know who fought them escaped with their lives."

Lay just grunted, and kept trotting on. They moved in uncomfortable silence the rest of their short journey.

When they arrived at their destination, it was another room with a large double oak door, this one labelled "Armory". Inside could be heard the clang of metal, and the scrape of it too. Even from outside, Soul could smell fresh leather and polish, and the ashy scent of fire.

Lay swung the door open without so much as a knock, and the inside was revealed. It was a room almost the same size as the barracks, perhaps forty feet long and about twenty feet wide, with a cylindrical ceiling that reached its highest point at about twenty feet above the floor. There were no torches in here, merely the flickering light of fiery coal, as a small forge sweltered at the back, burning red hot and melting mounds of metal. As that was the only light source, the ambiance in the room was quite dramatic. Soul liked it very much, all of the dancing shadows and flashing colors splaying upon the walls, it appealed to the poet in him. Inside were also about a dozen ponies, four were working the small forge, clad in chain mail vests to protect them from the popping embers, as well as safety gaggles and face plates. Scurrying about were eight underlings, many of whom looked to be teenage fillies and colts, pilling weapons and armor into different stacks and them sorting them onto racks. All in all it seemed a very efficient operation, which Lay ruined almost immediately.

The earth pony tripped up one of the... Soul was just going to call the "Squires", and nearly sent them both tumbling to the ground. The young lad barely managed to hold on to the massive pile of weaponry balanced in his hooves, and let forth a string of vile curses so quickly that he was gone by the time Lay yelled, "Sorry, sorry! Buck off, it was an accident you little shit!" Soul barely stifled a laugh as he wove out of the way of a small filly, and quickly back-stepped out of the path of the offended colt.

Eventually Lay made his way over to the four senior members around the forge, cursing and swearing all the way, before tapping one of them on the shoulder. This caused the stallion in question to drop the sword he was holding into the fire.

"Bucking Celestia damn it Lay Decker! I've told you, I never wanted to see you in my presence again, and yet here you stand!"

Lay made placating motions towards the stallion, "Easy, easy Prawn, I had to this time, orders form above. We got a new recruit that needs fitting."

"Fitting?!" Prawn asked, digging the sword out of the roaring coals, "The only thing I'll be fitting, is this ruined broadsword straight up your tailhole! Go bother one of the interns!"

They both had to yell over the heaving bellows of the fire, even so it was still hard to hear them speaking to each other, even from only a few feet away. Soul tapped one of the empty-hooved interns on the back as he passed and asked, "Excuse me, do you think you could fit me for a new set of armor? Your boss seems busy."

The colt looked over to where Lay and Prawn were still screaming at each other, one of them dangerously brandishing a molten sword, and nodded, "Yeah, my break's almost here anyway, I'm sure old Prawn won't notice."

The young colt led Soul off into a much quieter side room, this was torch-lit as well, and seemed to be the eye of the storm to the hurricane of activity outside. Stored away here were sets of weapons and armor of all sizes, waiting to be requisitioned.

"Is that really the only forge?" Soul asked curiously, as the kid walked around eyeballing him.

"Nah, the Foundry's just not active right now, no need for it really without a war on. Alright, I think I've got you somewhere in here," the lad zoomed off to the back of the room, which was easily as large as the one it was connected to, and got back carrying a set of the heavy cloth, as well as chain mail and the armor set.

"Here," he said, putting it carefully down at Soul's front hooves, "Try these on while I go get you a spear."

"Barrel or hoof?" Soul called to him, but the colt didn't hear, so Soul looked over his new gear. It was in good condition, a few spots of rust that he cleaned off with magic, and a few dents or flaws that he straightened out and molded, but all in all it was much better than he anticipated given Lay's bleak description of 5-E's situation earlier. He slipped the under-armor on and found it scratchy and irritable, so he smoothed out all the inside bristles and still found it a bit heavy, nothing he could do about that right now, though. He put on the chain mail, and that was perfectly fine, only a little long in the legs which he adjusted, and then the armor itself. He didn't... love the color scheme. Gold, white, and royal blue just didn't really match his coat or his eyes, but protection was protection. With his already made adjustments, it fit perfectly around his four legs, flank, barrel, neck, and face. He wanted a mirror to see how he looked, but settled for standing tall with a proud little smile on his face.

When the colt came back, he actually stopped in his tracks, "Wow, I must be good, I got it perfect on the first try! Here's your spear, other weapons have to be requisitioned with approval from your commanding officer."

Soul picked up the long spear and observed it. The haft was close to bending, so he rebound the wood together himself and affixed the head more firmly. He sharpened the point to a razor and again annihilated what little bits of rust there were. Soul then gripped the spear in both front hooves, standing on his hind legs and giving it a twirl. He elongated the back a little to give it just the right balance, and also retightened his armor straps to better suit both four and two-hoof styles. When all four hooves hit dirt again Soul felt like a new pony, more like his old self, before...

Not now, don't think about it now. Just enjoy your moment, Soul took in a shuddering breath, and slowly let it out. The colt had gone while Soul re-adjusted the spear, and Lay walked in a little but later.

"Hey rookie we should- whoa. That... you look really good in that, I'm impressed. Maybe Prawn has finally STEPPED UP HIS GAME!" The last part he shouted back into the room they came from.

"BUCK YOU!" Came the eloquent repose.

Lay shook his head and motioned over his shoulder, "Anyway, let's get a move on, Pointy, we've still got to pick up your schedule and show you around."

Lay and Soul spent the next few hours getting acquainted with the layout of the castle, where all of the important rooms, like the court and bedrooms, were, where the training yard was, where the commanding officers were housed, all sorts of fun and interesting places.

Lay was doubly tired by the time they finished with the tour, the poor stallion had probably been on his hooves for at least fourteen hours that day, and as 21:00 approached, they made their way towards Larus' office.

"So... what's up with Larus?" Soul asked, new armor fitting snug and comfortably around him, "When we met he seemed... on edge."

Lay laughed, "Yeah, you could say that. Larus is... well he's... he wants the best out of his squad. Doesn't matter what squad he's in charge of, he wants 100%, all the time. So, now that you're on the team..."

"He has to find the optimum way to use a unicorn effectively when he hasn't really had to before," Soul finished.

Lay nodded, "Exactly. He can seem cold at first... and once you get to know him. He's just cold in general really, I've never known the guy to warm up to anypony. Still, I think he's an O.K. Corporal to have, he definitely tries to get us to do our best," Lay sounded skeptical.

"Tries?" Soul asked, eyebrow raised.

"Weeell," Lay scratched his neck, "It doesn't always work out so great. Take organization for instance. When it comes time for 5-E to act as a cohesive unit? We're a mess. Since everypony's trying to do the best they can do, oftentimes they screw over others to make themselves look better, and there's a few of 'em that are worse about it than others," the stallion muttered darkly, "Still, it gets results. Dessert vouchers, court or room duty, day-only shifts, there's plenty of ways to reward us when we do well. But you'll find out about that soon enough, I guess."

Lay had stopped them in front of a single mahogany door, a golden label next to it proudly read "Corporal Sterling Larus". He gestured to the door.

"It's close enough to 21:00 that he'll be ready for you. Go on in, and for Celestia's sake, don't, whatever you do-"

Before Lay could finish, the door opened, and there stood the Corporal, looking at Lay first, and then Soul, "Ah, good. Private Decker, you're dismissed, if I'm not mistaken you have a morning shift tomorrow, Private... Keeper, with me."

Soul waved goodbye to Lay and followed Larus into his office. Cramped was the word that came to mind. It was nice enough, made entirely out of wood, which was a sight for sore eyes after wandering marble corridor after marble corridor all day, but it was about the same size as a small kitchen, and crammed with a desk, chair, and multitudes of filing cabinets. The desk was quite tidy, with a quill and inkwell the only thing on it besides a single, blank sheaf of paper.

Larus sat down in the chair behind the desk, and began to scratch notes onto the paper with his quill, "So, for the record, you are Private Soul Keeper, assigned to 5-E for exceptional fighting capabilities warranting an advanced position. That was a direct quote from the recruiter," he said, dipping his pen again, "You have just recently been given a tour of the facilities here in the castle, and feel reasonably certain you can carry out any duties presented to you as described in the Guard's Manual. Do you agree?" He looked up at Soul.

"Pardon me, sir, but I haven't received any such manual during the tour," Soul said with all due politeness.

"Oh, of course, I give you that," Larus said almost disinterestedly, before turning around and opening two of the drawers behind him, taking out a small booklet and a folder, "In here is all the basics of being in the guard. As of now you have not been assigned to a branch, such as the Royal or Day Guard, but when you are, they will have more specific information for you. This teaches you basic weapon and armor maintenance, includes a map of the castle, and is as up to date as possible on all of the guarding duties you may have in the future. That," he pointed to the folder, "is your specific schedule for the week. You will follow it to the letter, is that understood?"

Larus' tone was icy, but Soul just nodded, eager to read what was inside. He knew it would be nothing glamorous, not for a newbie, but the suspense was still palpable.

"Good, any deviation from your schedule will be met with immediate and harsh penalty, even for one such as you. Now, at the end of each week you will turn in the folder here in the morning, and return after your day's activities in the afternoon to pick up your new schedule. Is that understood?"

Again, Soul nodded.

"... Splendid. Now, with the basics out of the way," Larus shuffled backwards a little, pulling another file from a separate cabinet, pointedly not letting Soul see what was being drawn from where, "I believe you told me earlier, when you were describing your proficiencies, that you were trained in, and I quote, "A glaive helm, and a tail flail," is that correct?"

Soul nodded, "Yes sir, it is."

"Hmm," Larus leaned back in his slightly squeaky chair and gave Soul a suspicious eye, "Curious, seeing as how these weapons were banned three hundred years ago following the Last Griffon War, due to their... barbaric nature."

The room was silent as Soul met the Corporal's gaze. Larus blinked, and quirked an eyebrow, "Well? Have you anything to say for yourself?"

Soul was slightly confused, "Well, sir, I don't exactly know what you want me to say. Is it a crime to know how to use them? I don't posses any, and I don't intend to use them. Where I grew up was extremely isolated from the rest of ponykind, I believe I am the first of my family branch to come to the capital in... what must be at least five hundred years. I apologize if my knowledge is inconvenient for you, sir, but I can't well erase it from my mind."

"Be mindful of how you speak," Larus warned, standing, "No, it is not a crime to know how to handle these weapons. I wanted to make you aware that using them is another matter entirely. That is all, Private Keeper. You may go."

"Thank you sir," Soul said respectfully, before turning and leaving the room.

"Strange," Larus muttered to himself as he watched Soul leave, "I didn't know the armory made unicorn-specific helmets. He better not have had it specially made."

"Come on, let's see it then! I didn't lead you around by the nose all day to be held in suspense!"

"Alright, alright," Soul laughed, "Easy, Lay, I'm opening it now!"

"Agh, you're taking too long, give it here!" Lay snatched the folder from Soul's hooves, who was busy laughing, and tore off the top, revealing a few sheets of paper inside. They were pulled hastily out, and greedy eyes read the words printed on them. Then the eyes grew confused, then worried, until finally they sunk back with disbelief.

"Lay?" Soul asked, seeing his new friend grow dour, "What's wrong?"

Lay handed the papers to Soul and sat down angrily on the bunk next to him. It was a simple affair, one of fifty in the bunkroom, near the back but not the very last one. The sheets were stripped white and green, and the mattress was a cheap spring, the pillow nothing more than a cloth and some spare hay not fit for eating. For Soul, it was a welcome trade in exchange for some normalcy.

Soul looked at his schedule, "Sledge Duty? That doesn't sound good."

"It's not," Lay said with bitter anger, "Sledge Duty is possibly the most fowl, back-breaking work a guard can do. I've never heard of anypony getting more than two days of it at a time, and never double shifts! Night Sledge Duty is the worst job in the entire Guard, everypony know it! It's just not bucking fair!"

"Calm down, Lay, it can't be that bad," Marshmallow said placatingly.

Soul looked with a worried frown at his sheet. For his first week, in its entirety, he had nothing but Sledge Duty on double shifts, Day and Night.

As Lay and Marshmallow argued in the background over the management and fairness of it all, Soul just wondered what he'd said to Larus to make this happen.

Author's Note

Soul Keeper is now a member of the Royal Guard, and has all the perks that come with it. However, it seems that something he's said or done has earned him the ire of his superiors. What will he do? How will he fair under the stress of a week of "Sledge Duty"? Find out, next time.