We live during an era of peace unlike those Equestria had ever seen before. Thanks to the Princess and her eternal wisdom, there are few ponies that even know of conflict and fighting beyond their small-time quabbles or what they've read from history books. But, as it should be obvious to anyone reading this document, this peace is not absolute. Princess Celestia, our mighty ruler and caretaker, works day and night to ensure the populace of Equestria can maintain its lifestyle, and it's our duty as members of the Royal Armed Forces to aid her in this regard.
It is in fulfillment of this most sacred duty that some ponies manage to stand out among the rest, but since secrecy is one of our objectives their accomplishments are rarely celebrated, even if they have every right to be. But sometimes secrecy must be ignored, if only slightly, in order to learn as much as we can from experience. It is with this in mind that I've decided to publish these documents, descriptions of some of the greatest threats Equestria has faced in recent memory as told by a renown hero of the crown. Even if reading will be limited to members of the Intelligence Service, as well as a few choice members of the military and royalty, we must not let these stories go untold, lest we repeat the mistakes of the past. Though it may surprise my colleagues to learn about the (apparent) cowardice and most certainly un-heroic thoughts of such a recognized figure, this revelation only shows how much we have to learn about the ingenuity of those ponies that serve with us. Let's remember the old saying, bravery is defined as facing your fears and overcoming them, while a complete lack of fear simply means you're insane. If this holds true, Captain Clover may be one of the bravest ponies to have lived; and, his inner feelings besides, all of his accomplishments are real, tangible things that he achieved despite his shortcomings, definitive proof of his heroic nature (even if he doesn't believe so).
Outside of the occasional footnote here and there, which in my role as editor I've felt in the liberty of adding, this journal is left largely untouched, just as it was found in the archive, and provides a pure (if sometimes confusing) insight into how the mind of a hero works. Let's not allow this opportunity go to waste.
-Agent Mist, Equestrian Intelligence Service.
The first thing civilians picture when you ask them about us is a golden paper shredder in which our Glorious Princess, in her eternal wisdom, decides to dump all of their tax money while giggling like a filly. Either that, or a purely aesthetic addition to the castle grounds, not unlike a group of similar looking, short-tempered statues that Celestia decided to animate in order to amuse herself. And while it's true that the Guard's biggest concern in this day and age seems to be parading around for the occasional celebration, at least as far as the public is concerned, this is far from being our only duty.
But the general populace can hardly be blamed for this lack of knowledge. As is expected to happen, during an era of peace most ponies prefer to ignore the existence of soldiers, reminders of the confrontations they'd rather forget. Especially when what little conflict make the news nowadays seem to be solved by magical ancient artifacts fuelled by the power of love and a lovely bunch of ragtag misfits. One must admit, when faced with the decision to mobilize the entire Equestrian armed forces or send the six ponies that manage to solve everything with rainbows and no casualties, the Princess (or Princesses, as it were) usually make the right choice (beautiful young mares armed with nothing but their wits, love for each other, and magic powers that could give Dischord a run for his money make for much better peace-time heroes, I must admit); and with our rulers being incredibly powerful goddesses themselves, it all comes down to the cold hard truth: that the Royal Guard barely does any "guarding" nowadays. That is not to say we don't face any perils, though, even if our missions differ a bit from the grand battles of old, and even if all of our heroic deeds are marked with a big red "CONFIDENTIAL" stamp and kept in the Royal Archives to rot.
I'm not bitter, though. I did not enlist to become a legend, but rather to serve the crown, and not all of us get to be immortalized in murals at the Palace while getting golden medals (but then again, I haven't stared down two different evil deities and lived to tell the tale, and I certainly don't intend to, as long as I can avoid it). However, unlikely as it would seem, I somehow managed to earn a reputation for bravery and heroism, thanks in no small part to my good luck and a surprising ability to escape, unscathed, from life threatening situations, a reputation which came with some very nice perks, such as regular invitations to take advantage of the Princesses' private cook (which, in itself, was worth most of the trouble I went through), a salary that made senior generals green with envy, and a great ice-breaker for when I met a cute mare while off-duty.
Of course, this fame is a double-edged sword, and as much as I strive to get some peace and quiet while working a desk job, it's surprising how often the brass manage to have me face the biggest threats to Equestria that don't just fall into "just aim the Elements of Harmony at them" territory. But such is the life of a soldier.
My name is Green Clover, Captain of the Equestrian Royal Guard(*), and I've decided to share some of my stories with you, my reader (even if you'll only get to read them in a couple hundred years once they get declassified).
(*): Although he kept his rank and uniform, during most of his adventures (including those told in this particular story) the Captain would act as a special envoy of the crown, effectively removing him from the chain of command and allowing him much more freedom when it came to making decisions and acting them out.
I was walking through the palace barracks, trying my hardest to look inconspicuous, as I slowly made my way towards the exit. What had before been but a suspicion, I had managed to confirm by carefully taking a route that took me straight towards mirrors, windows and other reflective surfaces as much as possible: I was being followed. I had managed to lose my pursuer a couple of times by taking some relatively-unknown shortcuts through the palace as I returned from a quick inspection of the kitchen, all without alerting my tail about the fact that his cover had been blown, but it sure seemed as if my luck had run out. If I had managed to leave the castle grounds I could have disappeared through the crowd that usually gathered in the local market during Fridays, but the gates had been closed and the gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen, probably thinking this was the perfect time for a bathroom break. No use trying to climb over the walls, too: They were quite high, designed to stop an invading army, and it was basically impossible to even attempt an escape through them without alerting every single soldier and guard currently patrolling the yard to my antics, something I'd have a very hard time explaining and that would undoubtedly hurt my (mostly undeserved) reputation as a brave hero. I let out a quiet sigh, and turned around to face this new problem that had presented itself.
The unicorn that had been tracing my steps for what seemed like hours finally reached me, and with a bored expression floated a piece of official-looking parchment towards my face. Below a stamp with the seal of Princess Celestia, it simply read "Captain Clover, Equestrian Royal Guard, you have been summoned to the office of general Strike. Please attend immediately", followed by the senior officer's signature. I looked at the messenger and, putting on my most patriotic face, nodded once in agreement. The aide turned around and started trotting back to the castle, no doubt intending to bother someone else. Well, so much for the weekend. I looked at the sky, hoping that the general wished only to give me some kind of commendation for that nasty business with the dragon(*), and slowly started making my way towards the castle.
As I entered the office I immediately felt the presence of many eyes eagerly staring at me. I turned my head to look around, and noticed that the general wasn't alone, several ponies filling his relatively small room. One of them I recognized as major Seed from the 23th regiment which I had served with recently, and as our eyes met, he made an expression that told me he was as clueless about this ordeal as I was. I continued to scan the room, seeing the pony that moments before had been chasing me around the palace grounds, now serving tea to the general with the same bored expression of a young colt during a particularly uninteresting morning class. Besides them there was no one else I could recognize, the rest of the group consisting on a couple of military officers, a snobbish civilian in an elaborate suit that would not look out of place at the Gala (which made it easy for me to recognize him as a royal representative), and the most interesting sight yet, a dark-blue stallion fitted with the black light armor and black cloak that betrayed him as a member of the Intelligence Service(*2).
"Ah, Captain, please take a sit. We've been waiting for you" the general said, as he motioned towards an empty chair next to Seed. I obliged, and, with the last "guest" finally here, everyone turned towards the general, eager to hear what had gathered us there. The old veteran, seemingly happy with our attention, pulled out a manila envelope from his desk and opened it to reveal its contents: a bunch of pictures, which he scattered across the table. "Has any of you ever heard of the Nox Aeterna cult?"
I never had, but didn't feel like informing others about my ignorance. Luckily, the civilian representative filled the silence, "yes, of course we have. A religious sect founded around the time Nightmare Moon first came into power a thousand years ago, they continued to fight her majesty Princess Celestia's forces for a couple of decades after she banished the dark goddess. But why bother us with a history lesson? They were utterly defeated almost a millennium ago".
Everyone nodded in agreement, so I joined them. History had never been my strength, and while I did have an understanding of it that could allow for a pleasant chat on the matter while sharing some hard cider with my friends on particularly boring nights, I never understood the appeal or necessity of learning the names of ponies that had died centuries before I was even born.
"Well, as you may recall, after Nightmare Moon escaped from her prison recently some fanatic groups decided to use this opportunity of perceived weakness on our part to revolt, though we managed to get that under control as soon as news of Celestia's return to power spread" the general replied, and once again everyone nodded. "But it seems we weren't as thorough as we had wished, because recently members of the intelligence community got these near one of our southernmost settlements" he added, and pointed towards the pictures. They had certainly been taken in a hurry, but the quality was good enough to recognize some figures wearing dark blue cloaks, a crescent moon symbol covering the place where the cloth hid their cutie marks. As I was wondering what this had to do with me (cultists were hardly my area of expertise), the general's aide trotted by and levitated a cup of tea in front of my face. I grabbed it, and the unicorn continued to serve the rest with no apparent interest in the discussion we were having.
"So, a bunch of leftover fanatics? That's not too bad. Can't the local law enforcement handle it?" the civvie said after he had finished examining the pictures. The general, instead of answering, turned to look at the pony wearing black clothes and mentioned that the intelligence agent was supposed to explain all the details. The spook nodded, and started to speak. "Thank you, sir. As the general said, these can be identified as nightmare cultists. The local police force had a couple of encounters with them, though no arrest have been made, but following a series of discoveries we decided to have them stand back, and send in a Royal Guard task force to deal with these insurrectionists. The first revelation that forced our hooves was, as the general hinted at before, that this is not some nameless bunch of anarchists, but rather a very organized group acting under the name and uniforms of the long-extinct Nox Aeterna order. This would not cause us any concern, if it wasn't for the second thing we found".
At this point, he paused in order to pick up the tea cup floating in front of his face by telekinesis, and I suddenly realized he was, in fact, an unicorn, his horn hidden under his elaborate cloak. I also noticed that wings could be hidden just as well, so you'd never know if the intelligence agent in front of you was a pegasus, unicorn or earth pony. Hay, cover the face a little better, and you wouldn't even be able to tell them apart at all!
Taking advantage of this dramatic pause, the agent levitated a new picture from some unseen pocket in his clothes, revealing an image which showed the cultists carrying a large, heavy looking artifact through some kind of forest.
"These traitors somehow managed to get their hooves onto an ancient magical artifact we thought destroyed when the original cult was eradicated all those centuries ago. This piece of stone was blessed by Nightmare Moon herself with her dark powers, and it is feared that, if fuelled with magic from enough unicorns, it would be capable of bringing her eternal night".
A mixture of fear and disbelief could be felt across the room, everyone suddenly reminded of Nightmare Moon's return a little over a year before. I tried to remain calm, but the tea cup resting on my hooves began shaking uncontrollably. Thankfully no one noticed, as they were too focused on the picture.
"Impossible! Nightmare Moon is no more, now that Princess Luna is back among her loyal subjects. She and Princess Celestia are the only ones capable of controlling the day and night cycle! This is preposterous!" the civilian said, his voice showing an angry tone that no doubt was being used to hide the fear below.
"Of course it's impossible" the agent said, an impish grin on his mouth, "up until a week ago we thought the weapon was a myth. If it has, indeed, existed for an entire millennium without being used, then it's safe to assume it doesn't work. Our best bet is that a bunch of the rebels that escaped last year's arrests travelled south and eventually found some very old, abandoned Nox Aeterna ruins. They claimed the name and, fuelled by fanaticism, are attempting to restore this old relic. Even if it's unpowered -if it ever worked in the first place-, this has attracted the attention of cultists all over Equestria who have decided to rally there and join this reborn order. Of course, this is not something we can allow to happen".
The agent finished his cup tea, and turned to me. Even if I knew what was going to happen next, I was unable to think of an excuse fast enough to leave that wretched office before they remembered I existed. "Captain Clover", the agent began saying, as I thought of how hard it'd be to simulate a heart attack and look heroic while doing so, "we have called you because of your impressive combat record and your renown heroism. You are to join a small detachment of the 23th Royal Guard regiment" -as he said this, he turned to look at Seed and nodded, before turning back to me- "and travel south, to a settlement within the Haysead Swamps, where you'll be tasked with recovering the relic and, as a secondary objective, helping the local law enforcement in eliminating the cult. All of this, of course, will have to be done in utter secrecy. While the locals already know about the cult, and the order's return is quickly spreading as rumors through Equestria, the existence of the relic is considered classified as a matter of national security".
I thought of some very creative curses which I decided to swallow, and instead put on my bravest-sounding voice as I smiled and replied. "Of course, it shall be an honor".
(*): Here the Captain is referring to his, until then, most recent mission, leading elements of the 23th Royal Guard regiment during the evacuation of a small colony beyond the Palomino Desert besieged by a fierce hurricane, and the consequent fight against an until then unknown dragon that had laid dormant in a nearby mountain before the storm woke him up, an incident which he describes elsewhere in the archives. Clover was eventually awarded the Colonial Medal of Bravery for his work there, but as he found out (to his dismay), such a celebration would not come just yet.
(*2): Though I do admit our uniform give us the fearsome appearance we need in our rather unique line of work, it would be much better if we could omit the cloak during certain official occasions. The stench of our offices during the briefings held in summer is beyond legendary.
