The stale tale of Cake, the dumbass!

“Where else does one start a story?”

Cake sat in the rocking chair, staring at the pamphlet, eyeing over the propaganda. She knew it was all hyperbole, and that none of the ‘benefits’ would likely apply to her. She was neither poor nor gifted when it came to anything in her life. She was already in middle school and didn't have her cutie mark, though it wasn't uncommon for every school group to have late bloomers.

Suddenly the hoofsteps of a pony coming up the road took her attention away. Dark Oak walked up onto the porch and sat down on the swing a few feet away from Cake, smiling at the mare.

Cake returned the smile and cleared her throat. “Mail’s on the coffee table, same bills and junk mail as usual,” she said as she flipped the pamphlet around.

“And what do you got there, sweetie?” asked the aged mare.

Cake's face changed to a disgruntled look as her eyes skimmed over the basic training segment and the details of long hours with low starting pay. She closed the pamphlet and stuffed it into her school bag on the floor. “Just some junk mail that came in, nothing too important,” she replied. Then she got up and grabbed the bag, and headed inside. She hadn't done her chores yet, so the house was a little messy, but not enough for her mother to raise concern. Cake walked to her room and threw her bag down beside the bed, stretching out on a chair and thinking about how little her life had changed.

She’d expected going into 6th grade would bring at least some changes, especially since she didn't have her cutie mark. But most of the kids in her school didn't seem to care, many didn't even celebrate when they got theirs. Just a simple “oh” and that was that. Throwing a cute-ceañera was for rich or noble ponies.

A minute later her mother called her into the kitchen. Cake rose from the chair. Her mother was looking through the mail and passed Cake a small letter, alongside a package.

Cake went back to her room. She sat down on the carpeted floor and carefully opened the letter. It was an official letter, like one you would get from a noble. She lifted the small white paper out and began to read it

Dear Apple Cake

Due to your family's history of involvement in the Equestrian Armed Forces, you have been selected for enrolment in the Junior Academy for the Royal Guard. Recruits will be removed from public schooling and sent to a training facility in Canterlot, where you will be trained for the next 10 moons. Depending on your natural abilities and instincts we will decide if you should receive training to be a Royal Guard when you come of age.

Cake finished the paragraph and threw the letter onto her bed. She sighed loudly. She knew what the letter was, she had gotten a few others just like it starting a few weeks ago. She hadn't told her mother about them, just said she had a pen pal project for school and would be getting letters occasionally.

She sat up and carefully put the letter into another box with the rest. The white unicorn then carefully inspected the package, looking for its weakest point before slicing it open with her magic, a trick her mom taught her for cutting out the apple core when she was younger.

Inside were a few notes, magical scrolls and another letter. She read where the letter was from first.

“Blah blah, from the Canterlot Castle to Apple Cake from Princess Celestia.”

She hadn't caught it at first, but the moment her subconscious let her know just what she’d read her eyes went wide. A signed letter from the Princess herself. Cake felt her heart begin to pound in her chest as wonder filled her mind. She squealed like any other filly would do in her situation, she squealed and she felt proud.

Dark Oak rushed into the room. “Sweetie, is something wrong? What happened?”

Cake jumped around the room as she showed her mother the letter, causing the mare to cover her mouth and her eyes to go wide, small tears falling down her cheeks while her daughter ran around the room. Dark Oak sat down hard as she re-read the name Princess Celestia over and over.

“Oh ma, A letter from the Princess herself!” Cake hugged her mother as tightly as she could and the mare returned it even tighter, never wanting to let go of her filly.

“Oh give it here, give it here!” Cake chanted as she snatched the letter out of her mother's hooves and calmed down for a second to very carefully open it, wanting to preserve the envelope.

Once she’d pulled the letter out, she began to read it aloud.

“ ‘Dear Apple Cake

As I'm sure you know, the Royal Guard has taken a very high interest in you. I've heard your family's name used more than once in conversations with Captain Eagle Eye about the next generation of Royal Guards, and your family has a very deep history in the Equestrian Royal guard that I'm sure you are aware of.

I’d like to personally invite you to…’ huh, this part is just like my other letters…” Cake trailed off. Her mother, now out of the trance, levitated the other letter on the bed towards herself and skimmed it, then she noticed the small box of letters and put the pieces together. She grabbed one out and read it, then another. “H- how long have you been getting these?” asked the terrified mare.

“J-just a couple weeks now, every 4 days... I wanted them to give me a better offer like you taught me!” said Cake, trying to reason with her mother.

Dark Oak pointed at the letter from Celestia with a hoof. “That's the best offer you could get, a fu- a… letter from the Princess herself…” As the words left her mouth she looked away, ashamed.

Cake laid the letter down on the bed and hugged her mother again. “I won't go mom, I won't leave you!” she said, as she nuzzled the brown mare’s coat.

“I'm so sorry sweetie, but… I Insist you go, a letter from the Princess is… it's your destiny,” the dark unicorn said as she whipped the tears from her eyes. “You’re gonna be a hero, sweetie, a damn fine hero! Just like your Pa.”

Cake backed away and got the letter again. “But- but this letter, it's so artificial. I mean, it's just like the other ones and-”

Oak put a hoof to the filly’s mouth and silenced her. “It's not about the terms, sweetie, it's about the signature.”

Cake looked again at the signature. It was unique, with a heart in the i and a sharp, old ponish C.

“I- I don't wanna leave, mom,” said Cake as tears ran down her face.

Her mother picked her up and cradled her softly. “I don't wantcha to leave either. It'll only be for a little while, sweetie. Then you'll be welcomed back to the town with open hooves! I might even persuade the mayor to throw a parade!” Oak said, making Cake laugh at the thought of a parade in the small town.

The two mares hugged again as Oak got a quill. Both signed the letter, and once they’d sent it off to the post office and returned home, Cake did her chores and the older mare finished some work she had left. Both dreading the day the chariot would arrive to take the filly away and mold her into a soldier.