Indium slammed a hoof onto the table.

“I can’t believe you’re just accepting this!” Indium shouted at his father, his wings twitching in anger. His father raised his head from facing the ground, facing not a colt that he had to provide for, but now a stallion fourteen years of age. “The Knights Vigilant are just blatantly stealing from us—it’s not just unfair, it’s downright wrong! How can you expect me to just sit here and idly wait for them to take our harvest again, and tell me that it’s the ‘natural order’ of things?” Indium sucked a deep breath in, his chest quivering. “We’re—”

“I know.” The reply was sharp. “But we cannot change the way things are. Period. We are just trying to survive. That’s what the S—”

“Survival? Is that what you call this? Scraping by with what little we have while these so-called ‘guardians of honesty’ steal the literal fruits of our labor? This is not survival; this is submission!” Indium spat, pointing his hoof accusingly. “And don’t get me started on—”

“They are not stealing!” his father roared back. “Think of it as an exchange. By providing them with the produce that they want, we get the peace and quiet for us to live out our lives comfortably. It’s as simple as that.”

“That’s it? An exchange?” Indium’s voice grew louder, incredulous. “It’s extortion. How can there be peace and quiet if they come knocking on our door every month or so? How can we live our lives comfortably if they are gouging on our hard-earned harvest while we are threatened with starvation and malnutrition by the elements day in and day out? No, it is not as simple as you say. They have had you brainwashed to think this way!”

“You don’t understand, don’t you?” his father fired back, his expression hardening. “You are not seeing the full picture. The Knights Vigilant maintain order in Equestria, and we, as peasants, play our part in that balance.”

Indium scoffed. “What balance? There is no balance! We’re barely surviving with what little we have!”

His father’s eyes flared. “What are you talking about?! We should be grateful that we have what we have! Our kind had lived like this for generations without any complaint, while you whine at every little detail of it. If you have trouble with this order of things, then I invite you to get out. Right now.” He threw a hoof at the front door.

Indium remained where he was. “I won’t live like this. I won’t be a slave to their unjust ‘order’. We deserve better, and I won’t stop until we get it!”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” his father questioned. “Face it. We are peasants. You are a peasant. They have the right to clamp down on us at any opportunity. You can’t do anything. I’ve seen what could happen. But if you want to be foolish, leave my family out of it.”

Indium’s lips trembled. “Dad—”

“Get out.”

“Dad!”

“I said get out.”

“Fine!” Indium shouted defiantly. “I’ll just take my things and go.” He headed straight for his room and began extracting what little possessions he had out, throwing them into his saddlebag—his diary, his Book of the Saints…

He clipped his bags shut and ambled right past his father, heading straight for the door. As he opened it, he turned back for the last time. “When I’m back, I’ll make sure you will never have to suffer like this ever again.”

“Indium—”

The door slammed shut.

Indium marched out of the family’s homestead, his nostrils steaming with rage. Soon, his march evolved into a gallop, and the shed he had once called home faded into the distance.

“Indium, what’s happening?” a familiar voice rang from the expanse.

It was his mother. She galloped over with a half-filled basket of carrots on her back.

“Mum. I’m leaving,” Indium said, rage burning in his eyes.

“What? You can’t just leave!” she exclaimed, her eyes collapsing into pinpricks. “We’re a family.”

Indium froze, his heart tightening into a gripping knot. “Not to dad. And I won’t—”

“You are to me!” his mother wailed, tears beginning to stream down her eyes. “Please, Indium—”

“Mum.” Indium’s expression softened. “I’ll be back. Believe me. I promise.” He sucked a short breath. “And when I do, we will not be living under the whim of some Knight Vigilant anymore.”

He turned and ran down the long familiar path.

“N-No!” his mother cried out. “C-Come back…Ind-Indium…”

He bit his lip hard as his mother’s shrieks continued ringing in his ears, the bitter taste of his metallic blood seasoned with saline tears lingering in his mouth, his heart tearing with desire and past familial bonds.

Eventually, the howling spring breeze consumed the echoes of his mother’s pleas. As the moon began to cast its ethereal glow over the imposing landscape, he continued to soldier down the well-trodden path, his hooves pounding against the damp, forsaken earth.

Fatigue and hunger began to set in. The dull thud of his hooves against the ground echoed a rhythmic weariness, punctuated by the occasional stumble here and there. His stomach, deflated and empty, groaned in protest against his will.

But his mind refused to stop. He could eat grass off the land. He could drink water from the streams. He could rest whenever and wherever he wished. He could always reunite with his parents again. Food, water, rest, family—these are nothing but secondary needs. They do nothing to quench his inner desire that fuelled his every step. Neither do they serve to fulfill the last promise he had made that justified his run from home.

His eyes flashed in the moonlight.

The Saints willed it.

A flash of light erupted from his flank.

He didn’t care.

Sunhaven.

Baggy eyed, Indium trudged into town, exhausted. He paid little attention to the rancid stench emanating from the back alleys or the vibrant colors around the marketplace. He had only one target in mind—the garrison building.

He stumbled from street to street, seeking out the location of the garrison, before finding it by the wholesalers’ market. It was a menacing structure of two or so storeys tall, dwarfing the young, disheveled stallion. Reinforced with strong, concrete pillars and made of chiseled stone bricks, it stood in stark contrast to the shoddy, decomposing wooden buildings surrounding it. A pair of guardponies, each equipped with a rifle, stood at attention, watching every and any creature that passed by.

And their eyes were on Indium.

“Sir,” one of the guards called to him, his hoof trained on the safety of his rifle, “what is your business at the Sunhaven garrison building?”

“I…” Indium fumbled as his sleep-deprived mind attempted to formulate some kind of response, “I’m looking for Inquisitor Red Remark.”

“What for?” the other challenged, eyeing Indium with contempt.

“He…he told me to come,” Indium admitted. He prayed that the inquisitor remembered him, or even the promise of returning the favor that he had given to him years back. He sighed. There was no going back now.

“Your name?”

“Indium Indigo.”

“Noted,” the other guard replied. “I will escort you to his office.”

“Thank you, sir,” he answered, before attempting to brush himself off at the entranceway. “I appreciate it.”

The guard sighed, beckoning him with a swing of his rifle towards the interior of the garrison, “Follow me.”

Indium dutifully followed. Stepping in, he found himself in a small featureless room painted in gray with various tables, lockers and chairs about. It appeared to be some kind of resting area for the knights and guards, with a designated dining area on the right. A small contingent of ponies dressed in full military regalia around a dining table munching on their morning breakfast: cereal. They failed to pay him any notice as they continued eating their rations.

The guard led him to a corridor on the right. Indium followed, eyeing the white, imposing doors on either side that presumably led to a knight’s office.

Suddenly, the guard stopped in front of one of the doors and knocked. “Inquisitor, sir. A stallion by the name of Indium Indigo wishes to see you, sir.”

Indium gulped.

“Come in,” came the voice from within.

The guard swung the door open, revealing the same, cerulean red coated pegasus sitting on an office chair he had met once before. A dark brown mane accompanied his features, as did his purple cloak embroidered with the cutie mark of Saint Twilight Sparkle—a sign of his duty to the Knights Mystic. His orange tinted eyes gazed back into Indium’s own, seemingly judging him from without.

“Ah, Indium Indigo,” the inquisitor remarked, his voice nonchalant. “Sergeant Ivory, you’re dismissed. Please close the door behind you.” Indium could only watch the sergeant saluting, as did the inquisitor after, before leaving and closing the door shut.

“Indium Indigo, what brings you to my humble office?” the inquisitor asked, placing a hoof on his desk, with files neatly stacked by the side and quills neatly on the right. “Before that, I must thank you again for your help a few years ago. We had managed to unearth a heretic plot from the wholesalers’ market thanks to your intel. Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Indium nodded respectfully. After a short pause, he tried to move as gracefully as he could to the chair opposite despite the soreness in his hooves. “It’s the least I could do.”

The inquisitor smiled. “So today, I presume you wish to ask a favor from me?”

“Sir, if I may…” His voice faltered with nervousness. He quickly attempted to remedy the situation by clearing his raspy throat. “I would like to become a Knight Mystic.”

The inquisitor leaned forward, crossing both hooves on the table. He turned away from Indium’s gaze, contemplating. “Why?”

“...Sir,” Indium tried to maintain eye contact with the inquisitor by following his gaze, “after that day when we met, I was trying to piece together what was happening on that day. I realized…that the ponies at the marketplace were trying to suppress the price of the produce, so that they may resell it at a profit.”

“Yes,” the inquisitor said, shifting his chair closer to his desk, “which profit was used to fund a cell of heretics.”

Indium’s eyes bulged, fire raging in his pupils. “So they were profiteering over our hard work, our labor, our sweat and toil for their own nefarious uses to spread disunity among us.”

“Indeed, Indium,” the inquisitor remarked in a mellowed tone, “so I presume you wish to play your part to quell these plots to take advantage of humble farmers like yourself?”

“I do.” Determination rang in his voice. “I can’t—I can’t sit idly by when the common pony who just wishes to make a decent living has to suffer the greed of heretics.”

“That’s fair,” the inquisitor stated. He turned to his left, his eyes fixated on a portrait of Saint Twilight Sparkle by the side of the room, his mouth closed. “What about your family?”

Indium’s chest visibly quivered. “Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” the inquisitor asked.

“My father…he couldn’t comprehend my purpose.” Indium clenched his teeth. “He thought that I just wanted to find an excuse to stop working in the fields.” He clasped his eyes shut. “So…my father cast me aside.”

“That is disappointing,” the inquisitor replied, shaking his head. “I always thought that parents would always be supportive of their colt.”

“But…” Indium pressed on, his lips trembling as he sought the right words. “I know I can do better. For a higher purpose beyond providing sustenance for the populace. To fight against these heretics who wish to extort from us.” He locked eyes with the inquisitor. “Inquisitor, sir. I humbly request for your guidance as a mentor for me to join your ranks as a Knight Mystic.”

“I wholly understand, Indium,” the inquisitor answered. “But the journey to become a knight is fraught with challenges. From the start, there will be ponies who will see nothing but your background as a humble peasant; those who will try to stunt your growth because they do not think you deserve what they do.”

“I’m used to it,” Indium stated firmly.

“As I can imagine,” the inquisitor nodded slowly, “though, even if you successfully pass out as a full-fledged knight, there will still be those who will try to veer you off your chosen path and lead you astray.”

“I understand, sir,” Indium affirmed, straightening in his seat.

“Excellent,” the inquisitor remarked. “One more thing, Indium: as a Knight Mystic, your aspiration should be for the greater good for all of the Diarchy; for it is the same reason why unicorns are dehorned for the peace and prosperity of everypony else, and the same reason why I dealt with the heretics at the marketplace for the benefit of the humble farmer such as yourself. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Indium nodded sharply, his heart fluttering.

The inquisitor smirked. “As I saw in myself fifteen years ago, I see what is in you. Well then,” he glanced at his watch, “the train to New Canterlot City is leaving this evening. I’d recommend you to board it. I’ll ensure you have the monies for your travel, lodging and other related expenses for the Ivy Seminary to start your journey as a knight.”

Indium could hardly contain himself. Jumping to his hooves, his heart blossomed with palpable gratitude and excitement. “T-Thank you, sir!”

“May the Saints guide you.”

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I had the pleasure of writing it. Hopefully, I can keep up with weekly chapters, but time will tell.