Afterglow: Tales of the Royal Musketeers

Afterglow: Tales of the Royal Musketeers

Breakfast in Canterlot

"Everypony must do their bit. I know things are bad right now, but we must face these trials together. Harmony and friendship are imperative, now more than ever." — Princess Twilight Sparkle, at the Summit for Unity; Canterlot, 1005 C.E.

Gemstripe had never met a princess before today—he was excited, if a little unsettled. What could somepony so important want with a crystal farmer like him? For all of Princess Twilight's talk of just being another pony, he still couldn't buy it. Not entirely. Here he was in his best clothes, waiting all alone in a Canterlot restaurant while his coffee grew cold and the melted cheese on his salad congealed, wondering what to say when the princess of friendship finally appeared. He was glad of her lateness. It gave him time to practice what he would say in his head.

The doors to the private dining room opened. Two stallions dressed in the gold-plated armor of the Royal Guard held them, as Gemstripe's current greatest fear walked into the room. Princess Twilight Sparkle greeted him with a smile, as genuine as any he'd ever received from friends or family. Tired but true, and for that he was grateful. Some of the anxiety in him faded away.

"Gemstripe, is it? Hi, I'm Twilight Sparkle," she said and took the seat before him. "Sorry I'm late. I'm still getting used to, you know..." she tapped the base of her horn and shrugged. "Not very good yet at measuring walking distances in my schedules and all."

"It's no problem, princess," he half-smiled and half-bowed, and mentally cursed his awkwardness. "You wished to meet with me?"

"I did." Twilight poked at her cold carrot soup with a spoon. "Wow. How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long, princess. A half-hour at most." It had been two.

"What?" She blinked. "You didn't get my letter? I had to reschedule. Some things came up at court."

"I... must have missed it, your majesty."

"Oh Celestia," she sighed, "I never thought I'd miss dragon fire this much. You don't know what you have until you lose it, right?"

"Of course."

As if on cue a waiter entered the room and swapped out the plates for fresh, hot food, and two glasses full of sparkling grape soda. Gemstripe stared at the soda—he hadn't had any for the better part of two years, maybe more—a relic of a time fast-disappearing. Twilight winked.

"There's a few perks that come with the crown," she said.

They ate in silence. The whole time Gemstripe was painfully aware that she hadn't answered his question, and of the tired look in the princess' eyes. He didn't dare push the issue. Fresh, juicy berries popped between his teeth as he ate, and the sweetness of it meshed with the savory taste of the cheese—all the while sour thoughts welled in his mind. The soda was delicious. He said as much, but Twilight's thoughts seemed elsewhere.

"You're with the militia," she said eventually. He nodded. 1st Canterlot Musket Militia, soon to be deployed across Equestria to garrison the border towns against the increasing number of raids from beyond the frontiers. The regiment would be scattered across the country, and he'd be sent West, to help secure the untamed peninsula.

"What do they say about..." she started suddenly, and it caught him so unawares that he almost choked on his drink, "...about me?"

"Who, your majesty?"

She shook her head. "Please don't call me that," she said, and fixed her gaze on some distant point in space. "They, the ponies in your company. About where they're go– where I'm sending them."

A sudden knot formed in Gemstripe's throat. He stared and licked his lips.

"They're... we're all a little scared, Princess. Most of us have never been very far from home until now." He tried to offer his most reassuring, most honest smile. He found it impossible to do both. "But we want to go. No doubt. Equestria needs us, you need us, and we're happy to do whatever is needed to protect our homes."

Twilight said nothing for a while, she just looked at him—her gaze an unreadable mask.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"West, Princess."

"Do you know?"

The question made him pause. 'West,' he thought. What that meant, only Celestia knew, and the thought suddenly seemed wide and deep, like an ocean that opened up beneath him and threatened to swallow him whole. In Twilight's eyes he saw an urgency that was too frightening to be fake. He shook his head.

Twilight's shoulders sagged. She gave a curt nod and pushed her plate away. "West," she said. "You're going west..."

The waiter came back and swapped out their half-eaten meals for dessert—caramel custard, bathed in a chocolate sauce with mint leaves and a cherry detail arranged in the pattern of a six-pointed star—with two cups of warm, honeyed milk. Neither Gemstripe nor Twilight touched the food, and the smell of it was sickeningly sweet in the stallion's nostrils, like something putrid and evil.

"Can you keep a secret, Gemstripe?"

He wondered if it would be best to say no and leave their strange meeting knowing as little as possible. Nothing she said after that could be good, and that thought was like glass shards moving around in his innards. In the end he nodded.

"West," she began, and the more Gemstripe heard, the further his heart sank. By the time Twilight was done, the silence that fell between them was thick enough for him to choke on. She sat up and in her gaze the exhaustion had gained a new meaning.

"So," she said, "what would they think of me now?"

It was hellishly warm in Canterlot's Earth Pony Gate. Hot and wet, with nothing of the cold gusts of wind that tormented the city proper nowadays, further up the mountain. Gemstripe wished he was still up there—he could handle the chill of the mountain air, but the humidity of Central Equestria was another beast entirely. His sweat-matted fur was alive with mosquitoes everywhere it was exposed, and the thick coat of plates that covered everything else was its own kind of torture. He tugged at the straps of his kettle-hat and tried to think of something else.

"Really makes you miss the trains, don't it?" Sour Snout said beside him. The earth pony mare was in a foul mood, scratching and biting at her sides and forelegs, everywhere the bugs and fleas had gotten her. Her saddlebags, stuffed full of her gear and her musket, were on the floor beside her.

Gemstripe had hoped to forget that trains had been a thing not long ago, but there was no use. The entire company had assembled just outside the shut down Canterlot train station, and the empty tracks and wagons seemed to taunt them from afar. He sighed.

"It's one of the first things they'll fix," he said, and stared at his hooves. A black dot scurried between the hairs just above his left hoof and disappeared up his foreleg. The itching got a lot worse.

Sour Snout scowled as she bit her shoulder.

"If they could," she spat. "It's been two years. They can't fix anything and you know it."

The call came to form up into column. The sergeants—Royal Guardsponies brought to help whip up the troops into shape—strolled down the formation moving ponies into proper order. With them came Colonel Ambershine Arrow, a yellow stallion with white-spotted fur, old enough to be Gemstripe's grandfather.

The procession took their positions within the newly formed column and called the order to advance.

"Your friend's up there," Sour Snout said, as they began the long march to the distant West, and the Gryphon colonies.

Gemstripe already knew. Twilight had been there the day before, when they'd had the parade celebrating the newly formed Royal Musketeers, to officially see them off. Today she actually was here to see them depart for their new objective, the one she'd assigned. Gemstripe knew she felt bad about it. He knew she'd done it out of need, that Equestria and the greater good needed them to do this, but it still stung like a betrayal.

Militia no longer, but a full Royal Regiment, the 1st marched to war and the defense of the Gryphon colonies in Western Equestria.

'West,' he thought to himself as the gravel crunched underhoof. 'Now I know.'