The sun was sinking beneath the horizon when Gleaming arrived at the palace’s entrance. Coffee in magic and armor clanking against her body, she bypassed the main door and instead proceeded around the corner and towards a small door hidden behind two large thorn bushes. It creaked loudly as she pushed it open, the hinges rusted and in need of a good oiling. It took a great amount of effort to open the iron door, and it was almost impossible to do so without alerting everypony nearby that somepony was coming or going.

It was the perfect employee entrance.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Gleaming made her way down the narrow hall. She sipped at her coffee as she passed several empty offices, eventually emerging into a medium-sized room that contained several couches, along with two dining tables and a small kitchenette in the corner. A dozen or so bulletin boards lined the bare walls, each almost completely covered in papers of various colors and sizes.

The small break room was occupied too. Four ponies were present, each one decked out in golden armor. They barely reacted as Gleaming entered, save for one looking up long enough to see who had just arrived. Upon seeing her, the mare returned to what she had been doing. Namely, playing cards with two other guards at one of the tables. The fourth guard was resting on the couch, her eyes half-closed and an ear cocked.

Ignoring all of them, Gleaming made her way towards the largest of the bulletin boards, intent on checking to see if anything new had been posted since yesterday. It was the news board, and as such the latest changes in policies, available positions, and inquiries about getting shifts covered were all posted there. She always checked once a shift, just to keep herself up to date on the goings-on of work (and maybe get some extra hours in).

Before she could reach the board though, the door located next to it suddenly burst open and a unicorn stallion entered.

He was massive, standing nearly two heads taller than her and clad in a complete set of crimson armor with golden accents. His horn poked through a hole in his helm, the length of it glowing as he held a clipboard in his red magic. The orange of his coat, the fiery blue of his eyes, and the two-tone yellow of his mane and tail all gave testament to his name.

Captain of the Guard, Firestorm.

Upon catching sight of Gleaming, a smile stretched across his muzzle. “Codpiece!”

Cursing mentally, Gleaming immediately snapped to attention and saluted. “Sir!”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now, Codpiece?” Firestorm asked as he stopped in front of her. Due to his size, he had to press his chin against his breastplate in order to look down at her. And at this distance, Gleaming could see his muscular flesh straining to burst forth through the gaps in his armor. It was a miracle the straps hadn’t broken yet.

Firestorm was truly a monster of a stallion.

Gleaming had to bite her cheek in order to stifle the snarky remark she was about to make, her half-asleep brain almost forgetting where she was and who she was talking to. Instead, she simply replied. “Sir! It’s nightfall, sir!”

“Well done, Codpiece. Very observant. You can tell time.” Firestorm grinned, reaching up a hoof to tug at the tuft of hair growing from his chin. “I have to ask though. Why are you running late, Codpiece? What happened? Did you decide to take the scenic route? Get some froufrou coffee along the way? See the sights, smell the roses?”

From behind her, Gleaming could hear the other guards start to snicker. Her ear twitched, and she tried to ignore them. “Sir? I’m early, sir!”

“Oh? Are you really?” The faux wonder in the Captain’s voice immediately set warning bells off in Gleaming’s head. There were many things that Firestorm was known for—his sense of humor was not one of them. If he was playing the innocent card, something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Lifting up the clipboard, Firestorm flipped through it casually before tsking. “Because, unless my eyes are deceiving me, the shift chart clearly states you’re supposed to be posted outside the throne room. In about three minutes.”

Gleaming’s heart skipped a beat. She inhaled sharply.

Firestorm’s grin grew wider as he spoke aloud the very thing she had just realized with growing horror. “And it takes at least three minutes to get there from here…

“At a dead sprint,” they both finished at the same time.

Gleaming’s mostly full coffee (which had cost a little more than she would have liked, if she was being honest) sored through the air and landed with a splash in the trash bin as she galloped out of the room. The laughter from the occupants of the break room echoed in her ears as she raced down the hall as fast as she could.

“Faster, Codpiece.” Firestorm’s words chased after her even as she rounded the corner. “If you aren’t there on time, that’s going to be another demerit for you.”

Cursing loudly, Gleaming put on an extra burst of speed.

She didn’t make it.

Three thousand five hundred twenty-three. Three thousand five hundred twenty-four. Three thousand five hundred twenty-five. Three thousand five hundred twenty-six.

Leaning on her spear, Gleaming repressed the urge to yawn. Her exhaustion was beginning to play havoc with her mental state and she was trying to find something—anything—to do in order to stay awake. It definitely didn’t help that the hallway she was stationed in was in semi-darkness, over half the torches snuffed due to the late hour. Virtually nopony came down this particular hall at night, and those rare few that did were usually either fellow guards out on patrol or a poor clerk pulling a late night.

Guarding the throne room at night was basically a shit post: the one position that was almost more of a punishment than anything else. The Empress never held Court at night, so there was no point for petitioners or visitors to show up. Hence, there was really no point in guarding the room, yet the post remained in the system from some ancient bygone period when it made sense. Nowadays though, you were basically forced to stand at attention and stare at a wall for twelve hours straight. A mind-numbing task when one was well-rested.

On barely two hours of sleep, it was a completely different kind of torture.

With nothing stimulating to keep her mind occupied, there were many times when Gleaming caught herself nodding off, lulled by the soft, crackling flames of the nearby torches. And in the moments she was more aware shadows would seemingly move and dance in the corner of her vision. Unable to tell if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her or if there was actually something there, she’d be forced to leave her post and investigate, chasing after the ghosts until she was satisfied there was really nothing there.

Then it was back to her post again.

With very little to do, she was forced to try and find entertainment for herself or else go mad from boredom. There wasn’t much she could do though. First, she had tried singing a few songs. In her head, of course, for guards were supposed to be silent while on duty. After that was the daydreaming; replaying previous conversations she had experienced throughout her life, only this time with her on the winning end of the arguments instead. And now she was on the counting. Counting anything, really. The seconds that dragged by, the torches on the wall (both lit and unlit), the number of tiles in the mosaic on the floor—anything was fair game.

Three thousand five hundred twenty-seven. Three thousand five hundred twenty-eight. Three thousand five hundred twenty-nine. Three thousand five hundred thirty.

It felt like an eternity had passed already. Surely her shift was nearing its end. Soon, she’d be able to leave and get some much-needed rest. All she had to do was survive a little while longer. Before she knew it, the sky would begin to glow as the sun crept over the horizon. She just had to hold out a little while longer. Several hours had to have passed already. The morning was almost here. She just had to hold out a little while—

Somewhere, the distance tolling of a bell could be heard. Gleaming strained her ears, trying desperately to hear the tolls of the bell. All she had to do was count them and she’d know exactly what time it was. It had to at least be four in the morning, right? Right?!

Gleaming almost bit through her lip as the bell rang out the hour. Eleven chimes. She had to choke back a sob. It wasn’t fair. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. There’s no way she still had that long to go before her shift was over.

I’m not going to make it, Gleaming groaned. Heaving a deep sigh, she gave her head a shake in a futile attempt to clear it before returning to the task before her.

Three thousand five hundred and thirty-one. Three thousand five hundred and thirty-two. Three thousand five hundred and thirty-three. Kill me now. Three thousand five hundred and thirty-fou—wait… didn’t I count that one already?

BUCK!

Author's Note

*Exhausted Debuff Acquired*