“Ay, young lad! Rise and shine!”

Forge struggled to open his eyes, making out the earth pony that stood before him. The colt hadn’t managed to get a moments rest, the trouble of the day and night before kept him up until maybe an hour or two before. Regardless, Forge ignored his soreness and tiredness as he pressed himself from off his mattress. Rubbing his eyes, Forge was better able to see the pony who woke him up.

Forge knew this earth pony from the night of where he… Forge pushed the horror of a year before aside. But like Mokosh, this pony was a legend among those who knew about the Iron Order: Svarog, the Hammer of Unity. Svarog and his genius in architecture helped to rebuild those places that were destroyed in the war. He helped smith the armour and weapons that the Princesses Loyalists used to dispel their common enemies from the shores of Equestria.

“Peaceful, ya’ were... “ Svarog chuckled, “still tired?”

“I didn’t sleep much…” Forge complained.

“Best days are the ones where we don’t sleep too much! Sure sign of an active mind, good lad!”

“An active mind?” Forge asked.

“One that’s always looking for an answer for a question!” Svarog explained, “Those are the best nights! Get all the best ideas from ‘em…”

“I wasn’t thinking about an answer… I just wanted to sleep.”

Svarog offered a hearty laugh.

“That’s the problem! Yet you wanted’ a solution,” Svarog responded, “Want develops ideas, and all that thinkin’ leads to an eventual end all answer! But tired lad, that’s the beauty of it all… you pursue something with a clear mind, an’ eventually you’ll find a solution! World is beautiful like that…”

“I guess that’s true…” Forge considered, “you found a solution to sleep?”

“Ha! Have I ever, little lad!” The enthusiastic pony responded, “I know the precise time I oughta sleep, exactly when I gotta get up, down to a science! Hardly an effort any more, just down to scheduling.”

“You can just do that?”

“Ain’t hard to do… just need to learn how to keep a hold of all yer thoughts, and it’ll solve itself! You’ve tried it before, yeah?”

“N-no…” Forge responded, considering how it’d possible help him if he were to just write his thoughts down.

“With a name like yer’s, I would’ve thought that’d be something you’d think of!”

Forge blinked, hopping down from his bed as he carefully wandered through the door where Svarog had been standing. The giant of an earth pony followed Forge, the colt attempting to piece together what Svarog had meant. His name? Why would that be so relevant? He curiously turned his attention to Svarog, who continued with his more than pleasant smile. Eventually Forge mustered enough courage to ask: “What do you mean?”

“Forge, little lad, it’s a special word… ‘specially to me.” Svarog explained simply, “it’s a powerful word: to make something strong and enduring! For a smith such as myself, it means the world to make something that endures, that’s powerful… no matter what it is, smiths want to make sure it’s only the top of quality!”

“Is that what I’m meant to be?” Forge asked, “A smith inside the Iron Order, like you?”

Svarog laughed, though with kindness and thoughtfulness.

“That, little lad, is all up to what you follow! Ultimately, we’re all meant to be smiths… we go in to help rebuild what’s been ruined, and try to correct what needs correction. Simple as it’ll get, but it all depends on yer patience and yer tempering! If somepony is too angry to focus on the task, then how will he build?”

“When he’s not angry?” Forge tried to answer thoughtfully.

“Precisely!” Svarog smiled, “It’s hard work, but an honest work to build… and that’s all the more reason to have a good sense of humour about it, otherwise you’ll get stuck in the smoke an’ the fumes and it’ll just burn you out! So temper yerself like an iron, and you’ll hold the cool needed to make something truly special!”

Forge tried working out what Svarog had just said. All he could figure out from it was that he needed to learn to filter out things that would make him less effective… and if yesterday was anything to go by, then he’d need to learn fast. He couldn’t allow his anger to get the better of him, especially with these ponies that were trying to help him.

Breath, as Mokosh told him. Was it really that simple?

The two ponies turned into one of the few armouries that the castle had, where a series of new crates had been gathered. Sat between the boxes of armours and weapons there was a table that had prepared simple food: some rye bread, a few carrots and a few slices of an apple. Forge blinked, confused as to why there would be such a meal provided in such an odd place.

“You hungry, little lad?” Svarog asked, “There’s your meal!”

“It’s a…” Forge tried to think of some positive way to put it, “simple meal.”

“That’s life! Everything oughta be simple!”

The colt walked over hesitantly toward the food that was provided, eyeing it with suspicion before he secured a carrot in his mouth and took a bite. It was unexpectedly dry and still run of dirt, as Forge coughed out the carrot and whatever dirt he could. He shook his head in surprise, before turning his attention towards Svarog. The earth pony blinked a few times, before he widened his eyes and laughed heartily.

“I’m sorry!” Svarog chuckled, “I’m not one to wash the carrots! It’s something I always forget!”

“That’s fine,” Forge said as he set the carrot back down, “no worries…”

Forge looked at the rye bread, managing to take a bite from it before spending the next several seconds trying to chew it into a swallowable mush. It was incredibly bland though heavy, as he managed to take a few more bites out of the bread. His mouth was extremely dry at this point, leading the colt to eye what was hopefully juicy apple slices with great want. Running through the apple slices quickly, Forge looked at what remained of his meal: one and a half carrots, and a third of the rye bread.

“I think that’s enough,” Forge replied before looking at Svarog, “what’s next?”

“Oh no, little lad!” Svarog called out, “There’s still food on your plate!”

Forge looked down at it, before he swallowed his pride and finished the meal. In hindsight, he should’ve saved the apple slices for last and saved himself of a bitter and dry mouth by the end of the meal. Finished, the colt turned his attention back to Svarog who stood idly without much care for how long Forge took.

“You ready, little lad?” Svarog asked, “Mokosh and Swift Song are already off to their duty, about time we get there too!”

“Where?” Forge asked, puzzled.

“Why, we’re responsible for helping lay the grounds for a school!” Svarog smiled, “Need to make sure that the young ones are learning!”

“What? B-but, I don’t know how to build! Don’t I need to learn how to do that?”

“Experience is the best teacher, little lad!” Svarog replied, “And yer goin’ to be walking through every single step!”

The sun was oppressively hot.

Aside from Forge’s meager and unsatisfying breakfast, the idea of working for the next who knows how long to build a school under such heat didn’t exactly sit well with him. Walking through the tall green fields of the lands to a decent size clearing, Forge was surprised to see what appeared to be the entire stock of necessary materials aside Mokosh and Swift Song. As Forge walked up to the site with Svarog a definite and sincere insecurity… here he was standing with legendary figures of Equestria, doing something he’s unfamiliar with.

Coming within the reach of the unicorn and pegasus, Forge felt an object lightly tap the top of his head. Looking up, he saw a hardhat that was held upside down suspended in the all too familiar magical aura. Forge immediately turned his attention to a smiling Mokosh, who chuckled lightly: “Oops! Didn’t realise it was upside down!”

Forge responded with a small smile.

“Took you two long enough,” Swift Song said, before she turned her attention to Forge: “breakfast gave you difficulty?”

“Ay…” Svarog laughed, “no need to criticise! It’s what saved your rump back up north!”

“That’s true…” Song shrugged, “it’s really not all that bad. It at least gets you through to dinner, but it’s not a bad idea to invest in taste!”

“He might be a master smith,” Mokosh laughed, “but master of taste would be a stretch, Song!”

The colt stood uncomfortably in the middle of the conversation, trying to piece together what his place is supposed to be in here. Sure he was learning and he was new to the whole relationship, but he didn’t know how to engage with any of them. He was small and insignificant in the presence of legends, no matter how mortal they really were.

“Forge!” Mokosh called out, “You going to stand and watch?”

Forge snapped to attention, looking to the group of three ponies that had set out to start working on the foundation. His little legs quivered as he saw shovels and picks up a perfect assortment. Forge knew immediately what this meant, but he was completely unfamiliar with the concept of anything that was going on… what would he do? He tried to focus, convincing himself he would just watch what the others were doing and do exactly… could he ask how these things work? How--

Breath.

“Ay, the little lad will be helping!” Svarog replied, “Come on! Grab a shovel! Heat of the day is just like the heat of a forge: the greatest!”

Forge dryly gulped.

It had been three hours of inhaling dust and trying to ignore the constant heat that bore down on him. He trembled weakly over the effort of what he was contributing with the hole the other three were digging. They were making all the progress with their little project, yet he was contributing nothing. Mokosh, Svarog nor Swift Song said anything about the fact that he had done very little.

Svarog kept on encouraging him, Mokosh kept offering a smile from time to time and Swift Song just kept on digging. But Forge didn’t feel adequate at his task… he was hungry, tired and hot.

But he couldn’t stop, could he? This was the expectation that he worked alongside the other three.

There was a sound, as if there was a collection of voices that seemed to be approaching… young voices, just like his. But why would there be other fillies and colts coming through to this place? It didn’t make sense.

“--heard that the Iron Order was back! The four ponies to stop the apocalypse!” A familiar voice cried out.

“You think they’ll actually talk to us?” Another asked, “I heard they talk to nopony but the Princesses!”

“I heard they’re royalty now!”

The three didn’t seem to be concerned with the fact that there were ponies approaching the site, and continued in their ceaseless work. Forge couldn’t help but be distracted between the two things, before he immediately set back to digging what he could when Mokosh turned to look at him. In those eyes weren’t the mean eyes the day prior, nor the kind eyes of the day now… rather they bore a new expression: concern.

“Look! Here they are! The… four?” The familiar voice exclaimed until it was claimed by clear confusion.

“Forge? What are you doing here?” The second asked.

Forge looked up at the collection of eight or so fillies and colts that stood at the mouth of the hole, peering in and staring at him. The heat of embarrassment rolled over him, he now felt very uncomfortable… even more than he already was with his ravaging hunger and tiredness. He tried to put something together--a reason--he could offer.

Nothing came to mind.

“You’re buddies with the legends?” Asked one of his friends, Cobalt. One of the first friends that welcomed him, that helped him when he first came into the royal city.

“I-I…” Forge glanced nervously at the three legends, seeing that they didn’t stop working. Did he follow their example? Or did he answer the question? Forge spoke in a soft voice: “well, it is complicated? I’m working with them.”

“Working with them?” The second asked. Red, an obnoxious though friendly pony, Forge’s second friend.

“It’s sort of a new thing…” Forge cringed, “I… I am helping them build a school.”

“You don’t know how to build!” A third cried out, “Why would they let somepony who hasn’t built a thing in his life help them?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Forge looked over to Svarog, praying that he would say something… but Svarog hadn’t even turned his head. He then looked over to Mokosh, who was looking at him but wasn’t saying a thing. He finally turned his attention over to Swift Song, who had completely stopped digging and kept her attention completely concentrated on the fillies and colts standing over Forge.

“You don’t know?!” Cobalt sighed, “Doesn’t look like you’ve done a thing! What are you doing down there!?”

“Look--” Forge attempted to say.

“Just forget it--”

“Yes, how about you forget it?” Swift Song suddenly said, “It’s going to be a long day for the little one… fortunately for him, it is going to be a learning experience.”

The ponies immediately fell silent, Forge swinging immediately toward the pegasus who walked over to the group. The entire group was astounded, completely unprepared for Swift Song stepping into the situation. Yet there she was, as proud and as dignified as any warrior could be before standing right beside Forge. She didn’t look down at him, rather she concentrated solely on the small gathering.

“If there is nothing left to say, then it’ll be best for you all to head off…” Song continued, “as much as we’d love to talk, we’re busy.”

The group stood still for a moment, before they turned and walked away. Forge stood confused, looking up to his group of friends as he saw the final expression that rested on Cobalt’s face: suspicion. Forge stood petrified for a moment, before he felt Song’s wing wrap around him… another thing he wasn’t expecting either. He turned back to Song who simply offered a stern expression before her wing retreated to her side.

“Forge,” Song simply stated, “ignore them.”

“W-why?” Forge asked, “They’re my friends--”

“Yeah, they were.”

“What?”

“You’ll figure it out… now, about that hole we’re digging.”

Song slapped a shovel back into Forge’s chest before she walked away, leaving the confused colt in his small hole. He looked down at the spade that he was supposed to be using, waiting for a moment as he continued to listen to the other three dig. Forge struggled to put what he was told together, it didn’t make much sense to him… these were ponies he trusted, why would that change? Why would being with the legends--the heroes--change that?

Slowly he returned to digging. No matter how slow of progress he made.

Author's Note

Thanks for TeddieAtWork for the prereading!