FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The previous week...

"Thank you for coming, Sergeant Major Steel. Please, have a seat."

Sergeant Steel dropped his salute and settled into the chair before the desk of the Captain of the Solar Guard, Colonel Dauntless Mountain. Straightening the relevant papers on the desk in front of him, Colonel Mountain flexed his deep blue wings as he settled in for the short interview and possible briefing.

"I have an important mission here. Due to various reasons, I cannot pass it's handling off to a subordinate. Based on your record, combat experience, and some other factors, you presently meet requirements," Colonel Mountain began, eyeing the stallion critically. "I have some questions to determine a few remaining factors."

Sergeant Steel's expressionless face stared back at him without reaction beyond a slow blink.

"Right. I recall your file said you try to hold a stony demeanor. Now, due to the nature of this mission, I need to know. You have no listed spouse or foals. Are you seeing somepony you would be reluctant to be away from?"

Steel's voice was slow and bland. "No, sir. I took an oath of celibacy."

Colonel Mountain's brow arched. "That's a bit unusual. Might I ask why, sergeant?"

Slow blink. "To focus on studying Depth of the Mountain, sir. I am on my last contract with the Solar Guard. I felt I should travel the world for a few years. Military service has been good to see more in life. I have more insight into my art now. I will leave to start a school to teach it. It is the love of my life."

Colonel Mountain wanted to shake his head. The blandness that Steel spoke with was throwing him off. He kept expecting a change in tone or inflection, and the sheer lack of any left him feeling like something was missing. Clearing his throat, he decided to move on. "Well, that partly answers my next question. I need an experienced earth pony willing to provide combat training to two earth pony mares on this mission. Do you have any issues doing so?"

"No, sir. I would find it fun," Steel said in the exact same slow monotone.

Colonel Mountain reminded himself the large stallion before him had an impressive record and those that had served with him, be they his commanding officers or the enlisted he took charge of, all left glowing remarks. He couldn't help but wish there was some kind of visible passion. He liked that in a soldier. Steel was just so...bland.

How did a stallion so expressionless inspire so many of the ponies he had served with to praise him so highly even out of combat? His combat record was impressive as it was, and there were some suggestions in the remarks that Steel might be skilled enough even for a Class Four combat ranking. That was almost unheard of for an earth pony.

He brushed his thoughts aside with a twitch of his wings and continued. "The mission I have here is going to involve presently unknown levels of risk. Enough danger is suggested that we have decided to make it volunteer-only if possible, though it should initially be rather quiet. It's also highly classified. I covered the additional aspects and cannot discuss it further unless you agree to it. Sergeant Major Steady Steel, are you willing to accept this mission, knowing you can't be reassigned, and that there are no repercussions for choosing to decline?"

Slow blink. "I am ready to serve, sir. I accept the mission."

Resisting the urge to shake his head again, Colonel Mountain could at least appreciate the professionalism as he reviewed some of the briefing papers. "Good. The rest of what we discuss is considered classified. None of it may be discussed until meeting with your incoming commanding officer for further briefing and material for you to study. The first part of this assignment will involve providing combat instruction to two VIPs. I'm sure you've heard of the Elements of Harmony. You will be working with Miss Applejack Apple and Miss Pinkamena Pie. Both reside in the small town south of here..."

Colonel Mountain carried through the briefing with the unflinching stallion. He couldn't fathom how the soldier was so stock still. Sometimes he wasn't sure Steel was still breathing until he responded. It was like talking to a statue that occasionally blinked.

Once the briefing was over, Colonel Mountain felt the urge to get up and flap a wing at Steel, just to see his mane shift. He had never sat down with a Depth of the Mountain master before, but surely it wasn't normal to be so utterly still.

"That concludes this briefing, Sergeant Major." Colonel Mountain closed the briefing folder he had been going through. "Before you leave, I want to ask you something. I have sometimes wondered what the philosophy is behind Depth of the Mountain practitioners being so outwardly unflappable. Mind indulging me?"

Slow blink. "It is our goal to be like a mountain, sir. On our surface, we are to remain as unchanging as stone. Within us may be all manner of dynamism as with a sleeping volcano. To this end, we also must choose a creative pursuit that is anything but stoic or part of our training." Steel got to his hooves in a smooth, slow shift and saluted, the change almost startling after not even an ear had twitched. "If there is nothing else, I shall depart, sir."

Returning the salute, Colonel Mountain let him go, though he called out as Steel was about to walk out the door. "Sergeant, now you have me curious. What is your creative pursuit?"

Sergeant Steel paused only long enough to hear the question before he resumed his slow pace out the door, his voice as dry and bland as it had been the entire time.

"Raunchy poetry."

Colonel Mountain couldn't do more than stare at the empty doorway for a full minute, unable to decide if Steel was joking or serious.

Finally giving his head that shake he had been tempted to give for most of the briefing, Colonel Mountain settled back in his chair. His eyes fell on Steel's open personnel file, a paragraph on one of the pages of remarks from a past commanding officer jumped out at him that had slipped by him before.

A superb soldier in almost every other area, Steel has a sometimes unexpected sense of humor. Be careful if he is absolutely still. He does that without even so much as an ear twitch for more than a minute or two, it's because he caught his stillness messing with your head. He'll keep it up the rest of the time you talk to him if you don't call him on it. It could cross into insubordination, but he seems to have an uncanny ability to know when an officer will find it funny or not.

Colonel Dauntless Mountain placed a hoof over his face and groaned as he realized Sergeant Steel was screwing with him the entire time. He did like to see sharp minds in his soldiers, and Steel's little prank was a well-planned gambit that took some skill and insight into another pony.

He couldn't help the small smile it gave him.

"Maybe he's not as bland as I first thought."

***

Colonel Spitfire watched the bronze-coated mare lower her salute and have a seat, crisp lines on her sky blue working uniform. It wasn't often that Spitfire needed to handle briefings outside of the Wonderbolts personally, but such was the way of things in this instance.

Clearing her throat, Spitfire got started. "Sergeant First-Class Calm Stitch, thank you for coming. I have a special mission available. Highly classified, so I can only get into detail if you accept after I ask you a few questions. Potential danger involved makes it initially volunteer-only. Now, your personnel file says you've been a medic for a couple of years, and have a bit of combat experience with a cool head. This mission requires a medic willing to instruct a fellow pegasus in the same. Is this something you are willing to do?"

Calm Stitch nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Your file also says you have some combat skills beyond the standard. Iron Wind style, correct? Would you be willing to act as a supplemental sparring partner with the squad being assembled?"

"I have no problem doing that, ma'am," Stitch replied.

"Good. The nature of this assignment is expected to be a year or longer, mostly based in one location, with unknown levels of travel. Initial expectations are similar to long-term assignments, but things will get exciting later on and there will likely be frequent travel. I noticed your file says you've indicated a desire for a long-term assignment, once a viable one became open. As you know, that's not usually something a pegasus medic can get. We can't reassign you if you accept, so I need you to consider the whole timeframe. You can speak freely." Spitfire kept her trained eye on the mare before her, watching the little things that slipped past a professional demeanor.

Calm Stitch twitched an ear at the mention of frequent travel, taking a moment before she responded, "Well, ma'am, I signed up for military service and being a medic knowing I go where I'm told. Until my contract is up and I decide to return to civilian life instead of re-enlisting, I'll keep flying with the wind. Getting to settle down without leaving the service would be nice, though I know it probably won't happen for me."

Wearing a thoughtful expression, Spitfire pointed out something in her file, "You understand that if you agree to take this assignment, you will automatically be re-enlisted if your current contract expires. You have just under a year and a half left, and this assignment might go past that. Would you have any problems with that?"

Shuffling her wings a tiny amount, Calm Stitch otherwise looked like her name. "Personally, ma'am, I never really think about that. If the Pegasus Force needs me to stay for a new contract, then that's the way it goes. Also made it a point in my career so far that if I'm asked to take on a mission, I take it. I can settle down once my time's up."

"Your file says this is your fourth two year contract after your initial one," Spitfire noted. "May I ask why you haven't taken the opportunity to exit the service already? Speak your mind, if you please. An informal response is fine."

Calm Stitch's face had a mix of emotions for a moment before turning thoughtful, "To be honest, ma'am, every time it comes up, I think it over and choose to stay. I'd like to settle down at some point, but I never seem to have a specific reason to. Maybe I'm just comfortable in the military. I moved a lot growing up, so I never really got attached to any one place. Being a pegasus medic, I get moved around a lot, too. Worst that happens if I keep re-enlisting is I get a nice retirement eventually, so that's my plan until I come up with better."

Spitfire nodded, satisfied that the mare's file and responses fit the special instructions from Princess Celestia, giving her the standard line for a classified volunteer mission. Once the confirmation was given, Spitfire gave her a small smile. "Thank you for accepting, Sergeant. There aren't a lot of pegasus medics with the qualifications that we needed. Some already turned this down, and I was starting think it might be necessary to order somepony into it. Your willingness is appreciated. Now to the mission itself, you will be providing training to Miss Fluttershy..."

***

Shining Armor's horn faded as he finished setting the security wards over a spare office at Camp Crucible, the familiar face of an old friend sitting across from him before his desk.

"Alright, the wards are done. Been a while, Boulder. You been good?" he asked with a warm smile, free to all but abandon protocol where none were able to see them for the briefing.

Lieutenant Bergthora Bronzehorn grinned as she shuffled into a more relaxed position. "Yeah, been busy here at the Crucible with the latest batch of two-twig recruits up for combat certifications. You been good, Bubbles?"

Shining gave a snort and a flat look at the name. She never let him forget that day. Or how drunk he'd been. "Life up in the Empire is a little different, sure, but things are steadily improving as the economy is adapting to modern times. How are Slop and little Simmering Stew?"

Bergthora gave him smile and a knowing look when he avoided the bait. "They're doing well. Slop is still making plans for that restaurant we'll open once I'm out. Sim is enjoying his first grade class. Even dragged me in for a family day two weeks ago because none of his classmates believed he really had a minotaur mother. Still amazes me how rewarding being a mother has been." Then she puffed her cheeks out with a noisy exhale as her eyes became a bit more firm. "Let's not beat around the bush though. I recognize top-level security protocols when I see them. How bad?"

Shining let his gaze sink to the polished wood of his desk for several long seconds before looking back up with a resigned look. Technically her security clearance was expired, but considering her record and the situation, she would have to get it renewed anyway. "I can confirm the rumors I know you've heard. The Wonderbolts have been flagged to enter full active status for the first time in their history. Crown's expecting it to be all out when the time comes. We don't want to cause a panic among the populace until we can't hide it. Their foresight suggests we avoid anything overt until then, so buildup is being kept spread out so nopony sees more than a modest boost in military activity in any one area. We're hoping we have at least a year, but we can't count on that. It's going to be bad."

Studying his eyes for a long moment, her voice faint when she spoke. "...Shit. The Princesses aren't sure we're going to win."

Turning his head as his eyes closed, Shining sighed. "You always could read me far too well." He turned back to her. "I would've asked another, but you're the only one with both sufficient skills, and my complete trust."

Bergthora's ears perked up. "Ok, that's a new one. Just lay it out, Bouncer. Don't want to be here all day with your clumsy flank." She gave him a half smile she didn't feel, still absorbing the news she'd just heard.

Shining nodded, his former squad name bringing back a few memories. "Need a trainer for that male I put through a Proving. To be honest, I suspect he won't be needing near as much as a green recruit in regards to physical combat, but he's also going to be protecting my sister through this. The squad being built is going to need experience like yours. There aren't going to be any sidelines soon enough, but I hate having to ask this of you when you're three years from a Guard retirement. I simply don't have a single other individual that holds even half your qualifications for this. Even that latent minotauran body magic, weak as it is for you, is considered valuable."

Bergthora folded her large arms across her chest. "It is what it is, and you know my so called gift is too slow for live combat situations. I'm guessing this thing is classed as a volunteer-only mission or you wouldn't be so on edge about it. Never let you down before and I won't now, Shining. Nobody can say we haven't lived interesting lives. I'll keep your sister safe. Throw me the mission details."

Pulling a folder up with his magic, Shining set personal feelings aside as he prepped one of his oldest friends for a long and serious assignment. He took some solace in knowing she'd be present to protect Twily, and his sister's powerful magic would be around to hopefully keep one of his dearest friends a bit safer in turn.

Bergthora knew it was one of the times Shining Armor hated his position.

***

Colonel Spitfire passed over the drink before settling back on the couch in her Wonderbolts Academy office, the late evening briefing with Lieutenant Colonel Soarin now over. Briefings were much easier when they both knew what parts they could summarize after working together for so long in the Wonderbolts.

Soarin took a sip of the aged whiskey before speaking. "Never expected I'd end up being Dash's trainer, though I suppose none of us expected she'd get her training away from the home base, either. Heard any new info about the blank spot?"

"Nope," Spitfire replied. "Been years since then, but we still have no idea where she disappeared to for those seven months. She was pretty driven before she left, but when she came back... it was like she had a fire in her like I've rarely seen in a pony. Can't figure out why she suddenly took off to Ponyville shortly after she got back, either. I mean, I know her dad died at the weather factory while she was gone, but she was a total cloud-born. I was half convinced she'd never touch the ground on purpose her whole life."

"Maybe I'll be able to just ask her at some point. Whatever she did, it must have been some pretty amazing training to come back like she did," Soarin added.

He pondered how the Wonderbolts had been watching Rainbow Dash most of her life after her first Sonic Rainboom when she was a filly. They'd kept a good distance, not wanting to influence her life as they observed her development as a highly gifted flyer in hopes she'd join them when she grew up. Yet, in all the time since the blank spot happened, they never figured out where she went for those seven months when she was fourteen.

One day, she had simply vanished. Seven months went by and she was suddenly in Cloudsdale again. She had rushed about for a short time, then abruptly moved to Ponyville to live with her friend Fluttershy. She'd trained like a madmare almost the day after she moved, and joined the town's weather team a couple months later for work. Even began learning the Swift Wing fighting style.

Whatever happened, it turned a potential future Wonderbolt into a probable one. Soarin thought it could have been a secret training excursion, but he couldn't shake the feeling it may have been something else. That it had such an impact on Dash because it was something rough. He knew ponies didn't often transform like she had on purpose, but he'd seen it happen more than once.

Putting hanging questions out of his mind, Soarin glanced at Spitfire with a knowing grin. "Well, either way, don't wear your pipes out yelling at all the new recruits while I'm gone, Spits."

"Luckily, I get to switch out with Fleet and the others to keep them on edge. With all of Team One and half the rest of the Bolts already slated for only a few more shows spread out for the next year, we'll have trainers to spare at first as we figure out how fast we can bring in more. We sure are gonna put a lot of them through their paces," Spitfire mused. "Sure you can handle Dash though? She's a lot like me when I was younger."

"When you were younger, huh? Oh wait, what's this..." he said as he leaned closer. "Is that a gray hair in your mane? Well, I suppose you old nags did have more energy in your-urk!"

The hoof that Spitfire sent stabbing into his side kept him from finishing his statement as he chuckled, rubbing his ribs from from the jab as she gave him a flat look.

"Ha ha, real funny, Clipper." Spitfire's face broke into a sly smile. "Still, knowing you as well as I do, and knowing Dash's track record, I know what's going to happen already. Not if, but when you two start raising each other's wings, be sure not to let her wear you out so bad you can't even get off your cloud by falling."

With a roll of his eyes, Soarin gave her his own flat look. "There a particular reason you always like trying to call it when you think I'll sleep with a mare?"

Spitfire gave him a broad grin. "Tell me when I've been wrong, Soar. I know you well."

Soarin's cheeks gained some color as he looked away with a cough.

After a few moments, he changed topics as he turned back to her. "Think you'll have to resign from the Bolts as we get downwind?"

Spitfire stared into her drink for a time before answering. "Actually asked Celestia that in private. Wouldn't be required of me, but we both agreed it might be for the best for me to focus on the rest of the Pegasus Force if things get hard enough. Even I can't handle that much work at once." She tipped the rest of her whiskey back in one gulp and set the tumbler down on the coffee table.

"Don't know if I want to take over for you, Spits. Not like that, at least," Soarin admitted in a quiet tone.

"If it's hectic enough, I honestly couldn't pick a better second in command to have take over the Bolts for me." Spitfire paused, letting a soft sigh escape. "Honestly, all the crazy stuff being brought up right now has me thinking about the stuff that could have been. You ever regret our decision all those years ago?"

It was Soarin's turn to stare into his drink for a long moment. "I don't think so. We spent a good while talking it out, but I admit I still wonder 'what if' at times."

Spitfire gave a soft hum. "Yeah. Probably be married with a couple foals by now if we hadn't agreed to focus on our careers side by side. Scratch that. Probably a lot of foals. One of us would have to retire at this point. Hmm...you know, there are still times when I miss your dick."

Soarin snorted loudly into his drink as he was taking a sip, getting whiskey splashed across half his muzzle as he coughed and hoped it hadn't gotten on his uniform. The burning feeling in his windpipe was less than pleasant as he tried to glare at the laughing Spitfire.

Before he could wipe off his face and complain, he found himself frozen as Spitfire slid into his lap and slowly dragged her tongue across the corner of his mouth before smacking her lips. Her voice was in that soft, special kind of husky that used to make him cave in seconds. "Ah...pricey stuff, but it's only smooth when you drink it, Nipper."

Feeling his heart start beating much faster, he stared at her, their muzzles less than an inch apart as the whiskey slowly evaporated. He knew how she could get every once in a rare while, and how tempted they both were. The old pet name made his breath hitch. "Y-you feeling ok, Old Flame?"

She pressed her body closer, taking a second slow lick on the other side of his mouth. Spitfire let her tongue linger longer than she should as she felt a familiar feeling rising against the fur of her stomach.

For over a minute, all they did was stare into each other's eyes without so much as a wing twitch, muzzles a hair apart as they listened to each other breathe. They pushed the limits of protocol a lot farther than they should, but such moments were also their limit. They knew where crossing the line would leave them.

When she finally moved, Spitfire broke their long pattern by settling against him and pretending she didn't feel what was pressed between them, so close yet out of bounds. Soarin gasped as he wrapped his forelegs and wings around her back as they sank back against the couch.

Spitfire finally spoke with her muzzle pressed into his neck. "Don't forget our promise to retire together. You know how much I hate broken promises."

Soarin felt the faint quivers of her wings under his, the temptation so much stronger with them wrapped around each other as they were. His heart hammered in his chest as hard as he felt hers was doing. Each panting breath made them shift a little and he felt himself hold her that much tighter.

He pulled her up, her weight shift far too easily. The move left them just resisting simple gravity, and he couldn't bring himself to care this time. Their shared past exploits danced across his mind as he felt her press her face against his neck a little harder. There was a far too warm touch between them. Both of them trembled, waiting for the other to give in so they weren't the one to start it. So they didn't break their promise.

Spitfire pulled away with a sudden jerk and all but flew to her desk and sat down, visibly shaking hooves coming to rest on the wood surface as she caught her breath, boring a hole in the thing with her stare. She kept repeating their promise in her mind.

This new assignment he was going on worried her. She had never worried about him before.

Stupid Soarin and his stupid smile on his stupid face. He's not supposed to be the one worrying her.

Forcing herself to look up, she found him standing next to her with a calm look. She didn't dare look down to see his state of dress.

"I know, Spits. They said it's gonna be bad," Soarin said in a soft tone.

Spitfire grit her teeth for a moment before taking a slow breath. "Just keep your wings clear, alright? It's been quite a while since we weren't on the same potentially dangerous mission together. Not since we both made Team One."

"You going to be alright? This isn't like you."

"I know more than I can actually tell you, Soar. Also haven't said anything to you, but I've been feeling my bucking biological clock a lot. You'd think that injury that left me unable to ever bear a foal should stop that, but no. I get all the fun parts anyway." She huffed as she flexed her wings for a second and straightened up, managing a devious smile. "Seriously though, have fun with Dash. We both know she's got that fangirl crush on you, and that hot flank we both wanna pinch."

When Soarin moved to touch her shoulder, she jerked away with a warning look. "Hooves off. I'm serious, Soar. I'm gonna be running things from Canterlot all safe and you might be flying right into a tornado full of debris. Thinking about it shouldn't be messing me up like this but it is. It's so stupid. I can't break protocol that bad and you know it. Please just get flying. We'll have lunch or something if I get back before you have to leave the base. Just...not right now."

Soarin twitched his wings and sighed, starting towards the door of her office. "Spits, you know as well as I do that everypony in the Bolts knows our history and has no illusions about it. I still get asked by the occasional recruit if I really had to walk through the Nobles District in Canterlot wearing a mare's lingerie and fuzzy wing-cuffs without the key, with you so drunk off your flank you couldn't walk. I had to put up with you draped across my back, completely ignoring my protests as you yelled your head off about loving my dick and jerking me off in public the entire time back to the hotel. And the following morning where we showed up limping for our first day as official Bolts, too. I'm just glad nopony had a camera for proof."

He turned around in the hallway to see Spitfire moving to close the door, giving her a smug smirk as he leaned close to her. "Besides, think of the story we'll have if we both end up presenting ourselves before Princess Celestia, asking her forgiveness for screwing ourselves stupid."

"Inside of my flight suit was such a mess that day cause we never stopped, even in the shower, until we actually went out the door." Spitfire narrowed her eyes. "Just a flap away from jumping at me too, aren't ya? Too bad. Just...tell me how Dash is, ok?"

Soarin moved closer, his muzzle a hair away from hers. "You've always been so bad, wanting to hear about my exploits with other mares. Bet you enjoy it cause it's like having me vicariously. Just like I do with you and your famous tongue."

Scowling at him, her heart racing faster with every moment she felt his breath brushing over her lips. "You're just playing our game right now. Knowing we're already way past protocol. Knowing our Bolts all think we've been screwing each other stupid for years when we stopped the second one of us gained a command position to be sure we kept 'us' out if how we led our fellow Bolts. Keep your flank safe, Soar. We're retiring together. At least keep a certain piece intact, eh?"

They stared each other down, the ends of their muzzles pressed together, panting.

And then it was over as they jerked away from each other, unable to stand another second of proximity.

They had never broken that rule completely.

Spitfire caught her breath, half closing the door and unable to look at him. "We really shouldn't push our limits like that, Soar. I got nothing left. You so much as push open this door, I'll throw you on my couch and we're not leaving till morning. Yeah, I regret it at times. We made our choice and got the top two spots in the Bolts, just like we planned. It's not just about us anymore, though. They're all our Bolts to look after now. Bad enough we know we're gonna lose some later. Take good care of Dash, alright?"

Soarin swallowed back his first comment about not caring about protocol anymore, and what it would do in that moment. For several tense seconds, he had to force himself not to touch the door of her office. "Yeah... Yeah, I will. I know you've got to head back to Canterlot in the morning, so I'll see you when I see you."

The door clicked shut and Soarin stood there for a few lingering moments, waiting.

With a frustrated growl, Spitfire's voice soon came through the door.

"Gah! Stupid, sexy Soarin!"

Soarin grinned to himself and got to walking like always.

Someday.

***

Shining Armor watched as the green pegasus stallion settled into the chair, running Celestia's unusual instructions through his head for the thousandth time. The things she told him and his two counterparts, Colonel Mountain and Colonel Spitfire, to look for when filling positions for the squad. It reeked of hidden motives. Especially with how she had closed the meeting.

The ones we need shall come to us.

He didn't like the secrecy, though it was expected. Even necessary in several ways, with how reading possible futures worked.

Since becoming a prince himself, the Royal Sisters had opened up more about how they could look into the future and a small bit of how it worked. He now understood more than he cared to know. Past concerns he had faded as new ones took their place.

Learning how to command and lead for the Guard had been trying, but as he learned how to be a ruler, he understood the why of things he had never known. The prices to be paid along the way for the greater good of their two nations and the world.

Shining Armor knew which members of the squad were likely going to die, though none of them were safe.

As he shuffled the papers on his borrowed desk at Camp Crucible, he had no choice but to remain silent. No choice in sending his ponies into harm's way. He had no choice because not doing so came with a price far higher.

Commander or ruler, both have to choose the lowest price to pay to see tomorrow. It didn't matter how powerful a leader was by themselves. No shield he would ever be able to make could protect everything that deserved it.

Yet unlike a military commander, rulers had no recourse. No higher authority to take guidance from in the face of impossible choices.

The true hidden burden of the Royal Sisters was now his to bear in full, side by side with Cadence, for the good of the Crystal Empire and it's citizens.

Depending on the flow of specific events to come, he knew the fate of the stallion he was about to put on the squad.

Clearing his throat as he kept his face clear of his private thoughts, Shining Armor focused on the task at hoof. "Special Sergeant Cactus Root, I have a volunteer-only mission available. Your file says you have a standing preference for more adventurous missions, and you like a surprisingly high frequency of travel. Assuming you meet our remaining requirements after a couple questions, I hope you will accept.

"The first thing I need to ask is this mission will involve a very high probability of frequent travel and uncertainty later on, and plenty of danger, but it will initially be a relatively quiet assignment for several months. You have a history of getting antsy if you stay in any one place too long. If you accept this mission, can you keep yourself occupied during the initial downtime period? While this is a formal meeting, please speak freely. It is important that I know your mind in this, whatever that might be."

Sergeant Root fidgeted a small amount and shuffled his wings, his posture relaxing as he sat more at ease before replying. "Well, sir, Ah know Ah get a might twitchy when Ah get stuck someplace for a while. Just kind of who Ah am. If Ah need ta stay put somewhere, Ah can keep outta trouble jus' fine, if'n that's what yer wonderin' bout. Ah can always put more time inta Cuttin' Feather if needs be."

Shining nodded. "Your file says you grew up near the badlands on an earth pony cactus fruit farm, and that you were born to an earth pony mother. Indications in your file suggest you are somewhat averse to cloud cities. During part of this lengthy assignment, you will have periods of time where you will spend some of it in places like Cloudsdale. I expect you can handle that, considering you've done some missions out of a few, but what I'd like to know is why your file mentions an aversion to cloud cities at all."

Much to Shining's surprise, Sergeant Root gained a slight bit of color in his cheeks as he looked off to one side with a nervous chuckle. "Ah, uh... Ah don't like ta admit it, but Ah got a small fear o' heights. Took a bad spin during a windstorm as a small colt. Ah woulda made a splat if'n Pops hadn't had his eye on me. Ain't never felt quite right if mah hooves ain't touchin' dirt or close to it ever since. Kinda dumb fer a pegasus ta be afraid o' being high up, Ah know. Works well fer Cuttin' Feather, at least. Ain't usually enough dust in the clouds fer me."

Privately, Shining let himself have a mental huff as he realized he lost another bet with Cadence. He had refused to believe a pegasus in the Guard would actually have a fear of heights. She was going to give him that teasing smug smile when he got back to the Empire in a few days. He hoped it would just be something like a pink frilly apron and making her a fancy meal, but it was probably going to be another kinky request like usual.

Sometimes he wondered if she got him to make those bets knowing it helped him manage stress. Her timing without even being present could be uncanny, yet she only smiled and refused to answer when he asked.

Focusing back on the interview, Shining gave another nod as pieces of Celestia's private instructions to him fell into place almost like clockwork. "Well, how we handle our personal fears can say a lot about us. Part of this mission will also require you to provide some combat training support in the form of sparring. Specifically, a few mares involved have no prior military experience. Additionally, in the highly improbable event of a similar gift to yours, you would need to provide Cutting Feather instruction. Are you comfortable with those aspects of the mission?"

"Ah can deal with em, sir. Ain't done no teachin' before, but Ah would figure it out if'n Ah had ta do it," Sergeant Root replied.

Though he didn't know the whole plan behind the Royal Sister's curtain, this stallion was what they expected. The only Cutting Feather pegasus even in the Canterlot region, let alone Camp Crucible, was the one in front of him. He was exactly what was requested.

He hoped the vision Celestia showed him in her private instructions, of what he thought could have been the stallion's body, missing a wing and bloody exposed ribs, would be averted. It had been difficult to tell anything for certain, nor did it have any color. Sending somepony on a mission was so much harder with a glimpse of a possible deadly future. He hoped the vision was a metaphor and misleading somehow, rather than a glimpse of something inevitable.

Shining Armor gave him the appropriate line and the stallion accepted the classified mission. "Thank you for taking on this mission, Sergeant. I hope you'll have some degree of relief knowing you'll be spending much of your time for several months in a small earth pony town named Ponyville..."

The future of the stallion was out of Shining's hooves, regardless.

***

Two unicorns met in a secure room hidden somewhere in Canterlot, much of the decor was ancient bas-relief stonework on the walls, filled with scenes depicting a few of the Order's greatest legends that very few outsiders had ever seen. The detailed carvings were also heavily imbued with defensive wards against scrying and any other forms of eavesdropping.

Disciple Bright Spark pranced up and leaned her side against the familiar older indigo mare with a teasing smile, both wearing black robes covering all but their heads and tails. "Heya Tome-Tome. How's my favorite MILF feeling today? Randy and ready for a quickie, I hope?"

Archmage Hidden Tomes didn't bother turning her silver-maned head as her horn lit up and magically slapped the mare upside the head with a loud smack, a mare she had adopted many years ago for a promise to a friend and Bright Spark's father.

She made a casual turn of her head, voice flat and unamused. "Sparky, you know I hate it when you pull that with me. I raised you after your father was KIA. I'm the closest thing to a mother and family that you have beyond the Disciples, and I'm stuck heading our Order. As much as it pains me to see that constant look in your eyes when you drop the act, I can't stand it when you start hitting on me. Especially when you use your foalhood nickname for me at the same time."

Bright Spark gave a small huff as she pulled away and moved to stand in front of Tomes, all traces of humor gone. The edge of a growl in her voice added a sharpness to every word. "I know you hate it. Can't always help how deep in my mask I get, but you know the alternative if I don't keep up a chase for sex so I can vent somehow."

Tomes' eyes softened. "And I don't want you lashing out between missions when you leave our compound ever again. Once was enough. Still couldn't say why Princess Celestia didn't keep you in prison for hospitalizing that mare like that, regardless of what she said to you. At least you have performed every penance asked of you without question since."

"Sorry, Tomes. The conversation I had with her remains private. Now, you called me here. Gonna tell me you finally got a solid lead on The Bitch you'll let me track?" A hint of mad eagerness slipped into her words as she grinned.

With a shake of her head, Tomes saw Bright Spark deflate a tiny bit. "No, we still haven't been able to get any good leads on Lasting Legacy. You know how badly we all want to find her, Sparky. It's maddening how many times she's slipped through our hooves, despite returning to that vile Horn of Truth cult. She'll have that group of unicorn supremacists and all the training knowledge we gave her whenever we do finally track her down. We did have a lead with some potential not long ago, but I won't let you get involved until we have a good idea of her location first. Instead, I need you to serve."

Ears perking up, Bright Spark fixed Tomes with an icy glare, jaw clenched and voice low. "You better not hide it when you do, Tomes. The Bitch is mine! She trained me. Acted like a trusted bucking mentor to me before she stabbed us all in the back when she finally revealed the lies and left so many of her lovely gifts behind. She is getting back every last ounce of pain she gave my husband before she left him dangling in a couple pieces for me to find. He'd still be alive if I had trusted my gut and paid more attention. I won't stop until she dies screaming. If there's anything left of me after that, we'll talk." Bright Spark's eyes held the look again.

Once more, Hidden Tomes was reminded of how much she hated that look.

Eyes of unending fury.

Far too many Disciples earned it during their careers, one way or another.

Hidden Tomes herself wore it a few times before accepting the sacrifice of becoming the archmage. Unlike other Orders, the role was a step down among Disciples. One to give a focal point and manage information, so the rest could keep hunting the shadows. Tomes knew she would never wear it herself again.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hidden Tomes intoned one of their mantras, "We fight the shadows from among them..."

Some of the dangerous edge in Bright Spark's eyes faded as she replied, "To spare those that know only the light."

"Sparky, Princess Celestia needs a Disciple to serve Princess Twilight Sparkle. There's serious trouble brewing, despite the reduction in dark magic use and Tartarus being oddly quiet of late. She asked for you personally to help train Sparkle and her friend Rarity, the one that held the gem for Generosity. Also need you to evaluate and train that human that Prince Armor hammered on a couple weeks ago. You saw him yourself since you were helping manage the shield on the arena. He's a special case for some reason, some sort of unique ability, so use your own discretion. I'm pretty sure the sister's are keeping something from us again, but that's nothing new. Just the price of staying as independent as we are."

Bright Spark gave a grunt. "He did seem to do something out of step with reports on his level of magic training at the end. Whatever. I'll come up with something." She cleared her throat. "Archmage, I accept your task. In the same spirit of our Founder, my life before those I shall serve."

Archmage Hidden Tomes bowed her head in acknowledgement. "May Fate keep you strong on our dangerous path." She let out a small sigh then. "Didn't even let me tell you how it's going to be life threatening, unknown dangers, blah blah. Some parts of being quasi-civilians working under the direction of the military will never make sense. It's like the bureaucrats over there don't even realize who they're sending all that bucking briefing paperwork to. Like we ever do something that isn't probably going to be deadly."

Bright Spark merely gave her a dark grin.

"There's one more important part to this, Sparky. The Princesses aren't supposed to know about this, either."

That earned a curious look as Bright Spark waited.

Her horn lighting up with a deep indigo shade, Tomes slipped a very old-looking black book from the folds of her black robes. Levitating it up between them, she gave it a reverent look. "This is probably our Order's single biggest secret. Embertouch herself created it alongside Starswirl the Bearded. Each Archmage has passed it on to the next since her death with the express instruction to keep it hidden from Celestia and Luna, though we don't know why she said it was of extreme importance to do so. Exclusively been a secret of us archmages to be sure we followed her instructions. Only figured out two things about this book in all that time, too.

"The first is a defensive ward we've never seen equalled before or since, designed to make it impossible to read except by the individual it's keyed to. How it's keyed we can't tell until it unlocks for them, if we even get to study it after that. The second thing was because Shifting Sands the Mad, the 92nd Archmage of the Order, thought his talent for wards and withstanding madness-inducing entities would let him peek. He got a peek alright, and he nearly succumbed to it. The strange nature of the ward seems to act like an Outsider to an untrained mind for as long as you can stand to look at it, but it uses you against yourself. It's almost like an unreality ward somehow, which was never supposed to be possible. He made it two pages before 'soup fading to column' was the most sensible part of it. And he stopped frothing at the mouth. Couldn't even say or write what he read directly. Just that it's a spellbook on stuff no single mage could ever cast. He never said what he meant or if he knew why.

"And that's not even touching the fact that whatever it is, it's permanent. Nothing short of an artifact should be capable of that, but it isn't one. Enchantments aren't supposed to last more than a few years, even if you planned it perfectly and had all the power necessary. This ward hasn't faded one measure in two thousand years."

Bright Spark waited some more.

"Anyway, Embertouch said to touch the cover with a hoof to know whom it belongs to. That we'd know when it happens." Tomes levitated the nondescript black book in front of Bright Spark. "Touch it and see for yourself."

Eyeing the book for a moment, Bright Spark lifted her foreleg. The heavily enchanted steel vambrace and hoofguard she wore slipped from under her robe and gleamed in the torchlight. The magic of the book activated as her hoof touched the ancient cover.

Images flashed in her mind's eye. Many of them vague, with lingering impressions of meaning that flitted at the edge of her awareness, just beyond a firm grasp.

The image of an indistinct stallion with a white mane somehow passing back and forth between two stormclouds crackling with lightning.

A five-fingered gray hand grasping a sword buried in an ancient stone pedestal, then a brilliant flash of magic came from the blade. An impression of vengeance.

A city being swallowed by the ground, above it was a beacon of light surrounded by countless smaller lights before the beacon blinked out and left the rest, filled by an impression of defiance.

The symbol of a particular thaumic array, with an impression of impossible power and death in the center. There was a sense of acceptance.

A scattering of colorless damaged feathers fallen over a pool of blood and gore. It carried a disturbing sense of failure and desperation beside incredible sorrow.

There were countless scenes and images that did not make much sense together. All she knew was that they were visions, given in metaphors and flashes in time. The one that caught her attention the most was the image of a dragon's head beside a dove, separated by a sword, and imposed over the image of a shining heart.

Her armored hoof lifted from the book and slipped back beneath the folds of her robe, putting a stop to the visions as she met the archmage's eye. "One of them matches that chest tattoo on Guardian Drayce."

Tomes gave a slow nod. "Embertouch and Starswirl somehow knew he was coming. That they went to this much trouble to get this book to a being from a whole other world, it makes me wonder what shadows are coming our way."

"Think he's a threat?" Bright Spark's tone was direct in her meaning.

Tomes paused before answering, "Difficult to tell, but it's possible. No way for us to know how deep he'll tread, but he's been noble-hearted so far. Try to make it quick if things ever get that bad. All I can tell you with any real probability is that he's very likely going to be as much of a shadow as we are. Each Archmage has studied the visions from the book and destroys their personal notes once shared when it's time to pass the mantle. Not enough context for most of the visions, but they all seem consistent between viewings, and focus around the one this book is meant for."

Bright Spark lifted the tome in her her own soft yellow magic and slipped it into her robes. "When I think the time is right, I'll give it to him. I want to feel him out first. If he'll be a shadow like us, I want to be sure we can trust him to stay with the light. Considering Princess Twilight treasures him so much, here's to hoping I don't have to take him down someday. She's still so innocent, even now. I'd hate to take that away when she's served the light so much herself and earned our respect. Anything else, Tomes?"

Without another word, Hidden Tomes moved forward and slipped her own armored foreleg around Bright Spark's neck to hug her close. "Just...give me a reminder the filly I love like a daughter is still in there."

For a long minute, Bright Spark did not so much as flinch as she stared at the wall. The constant presence of her fury tempting her to shove the older mare away.

One of the few memories of her father came to her, his words ringing through her mind.

Sparky, protect your own light harder than all others. Lose that and you're the worst shadow you'll ever know. Doesn't matter what it costs you. Do not join the shadows.

He never came home after those final parting words, but his team did because of him.

She saw her husband's shattered body in her mind's eye again. Heard his voice and laugh. Recalled the feel of his cheek with, and without, the tender warmth she'd so treasured.

Would you still love what's left of me, Cayenne?

Eyes remaining fixed on the wall as her jaw tightened, Bright Spark's own foreleg slowly reached up and returned the hug just as tight.

***

Major Thunder Breaker strode into the private meeting room with quiet steps once he was admitted by the door guards.

For many thestrals, other moonborn, and those rare others that grew up in their cavern enclaves, service to the Night Mother was both an honor and a priority. To a point, it was in many ways almost like but not quite worship. Most felt indebted for the past, joining the Lunar Guard when they came of age for at least one term of service. The Night Mother had once said in the early days of their enclaves that the military was a valuable opportunity to broaden one's horizons, to see a great deal of things that the world had to offer for only the price of a few years in service to others. It long ago became a matter of personal pride for most.

The Major held to a slow, confident stride, not even needing to think about holding to his best posture as was befitting when in the Night Mother's presence.

For the more zealous, service to the Night Mother was a calling for life. She had but to say the word and they would bow down and treat Her as a goddess openly as they felt She deserved, yet had always refused in a demonstration of Her humility since returning to them. Lifelong service in Her Lunar Guard was the closest they were permitted, fanatical in defense of Equestria when She asked them to be. Her wisdom had said they could do much more good by aiding others in Her name.

He knew the Night Mother's gaze was upon him as he approached, his presence requested this night. The reason did not matter, only that the Night Mother had called for him.

Then there was a very small number that had earned the unique position of being counted amongst Her Favored. Ones called Her Children of the Night. Those few ponies that were said to have done great deeds in Her name, but it was a misnomer. The truth was more complicated. Her Favor was not granted lightly, nor discussed by those that earned it beyond acknowledging their official status, required only by those in the military, for the rest was between Her and them alone. Few earned such honors.

Major Thunder Breaker sat down in front of the Night Mother, placing his cobalt steel helmet at his side as he turned his eyes to Her own. He still felt that same moment of reverence for being allowed to meet Her gaze as he did.

What those few Favored knew, the truth of it all, was that while Princess Luna was mighty, filled with power most mortals could not even fathom, She craved understanding and equal treatment. It was not that those called Favored accomplished great things, or had worshipped with the most fervor. They knew the former was recognized enough by other means, and the latter was generally discouraged.

Rather, they had experienced a moment of serendipity with Her. A moment when both realized the truth of understanding was there.

Most remained in service to Equestria afterward in various positions for life, for the sole reason that She needed them near. In turn, She granted them special privileges, including the power to shadow dive for those that fought for her, to help them excel in their duties. Duties that often entailed constant risk to themselves beyond the usual call for the sake of the nation and the ponies within. The Favored remained in Her service not for duty, but for the love of family. Princess Celestia had her own small secret collection of ponies for, and through, similar reasons.

Thunder Breaker had been on patrol during his brief time with the Royal Guard at Canterlot Castle, when passing near the gardens brought a sound to investigate. That was the night he'd found his goddess trying not to cry in private just weeks after Her return. She had grabbed him when he drew near and broken down, himself stunned as he cradled Her head.

They had sat together many nights since, talking about anything, and acting as a source of mutual comfort. It was a profound moment for him when he realized She could be vulnerable like any other pony.

As much as they were Hers, they also knew She was theirs, in almost any manner desired by either. If it had mattered to him, nearly anything was his on request by Her own word. Tea together under Her stars was all he ever asked for, save one thing.

Princess Luna's wing came up and touched the tips of her feathers to Thunder Breaker's cheek with an affectionate, familiar gesture, "Thank you for coming so quickly, my Favored Son of the Night. If you are willing, I need to pull you away from the Shadow Hammer teams. I have a very important task for you. You have heard of the human that appeared in Ponyville, correct?"

Thunder Breaker's midnight blue eyes flashed with deep disappointment for a moment even as he sat up a bit straighter and bowed his head in response. One did not hide their emotions from the Night Mother out of respect. "I am forever at your service, Night Mother. I have heard some tales. And how he has twice come to Princess Twilight Sparkle's aid at personal cost since his sudden appearance."

With a nod, Luna continued, "He has been named a Guardian, drafted into the Guard with rank equivalent to a Colonel, and requires somepony to teach him the duties required of an officer of Equestria. Though he is barred from giving orders at this time, and is under mine and my sister's direct command, there is much he must know. I would like you to be the one for this task, though it is far from all you will be doing in due time.

"Though only rumors at present, Equestria is approaching a time we shall know open war. You are to lead the team being assembled to protect the Bearers of the Elements, alongside this human that has appeared for this very purpose in a much larger game. This assignment is perhaps the most important you could ever undertake. It will likely be the most dangerous, for what I know of the future to come.

"You are the one I trust above all others of my Favored," Luna paused with a pained look as she stroked his cheek with the feathers that never left. "Though I know your heart and why you strive so hard, why you have volunteered for every mission no matter the danger, yet still succeed and return to me... Please, put aside your singular pursuit for this. They will need your strength and skill to help them see things through to the end. I will finally grant your wish when this task is done, if you still desire it so. You ask so much of me in that.

"In the few years since my return, you have become the one I treasure most. Ever since I learned of you, of what happened to you on the Hearth's Warming Eve before my return, I have sought to bring you some measure of comfort. Though I have never had such of my own, and though you are grown, I have even come to think of you as my own foal of the Moon," Luna paused again, now cupping his cheek with a hoof as she leaned closer. "Will you do this for me...my son?"

Thunder Breaker's eyes closed at the mention of the night he lost his wife and unborn foal, his face an empty calm as his eyes began to burn just a touch. They had been dry a long time now, nothing left to give to his sorrow. All that was left now was a numbness as he pressed his cheek to Her hoof.

The Night Mother doing him such an honor pained him deeply after the depth of his failure. At the same time, the Night Mother was the one pony he found true solace with since that terrible night. He leaned closer as She nudged him towards Herself in a rare gesture.

Thunder Breaker thought of how he had grown up orphaned at a young age, taken in by a zealous mare that taught him her fanatical devotion to the Night Mother. Then he bumbled his way into love, his wife opening his eyes to so many things and how blind he had been. For three far too short years, she had helped him come alive. Made him truly whole, until that fateful night.

Now, military service for the Night Mother was all that mattered. It was his best chance to finish his goal before old age. He had made his wife a two-part promise as she died in his embrace, and he would see it through.

I miss you so much, Soft Step.

"I..." Thunder Breaker felt his forehead touch Her neck and felt the warmth of Her presence, knowing how much trust She just placed in him by calling him a son.

Various emotions made him give a faint shudder as he leaned into Her embrace to bury his face against Her neck. She was his only comfort left. He could not deny Her wish, nor his own to accept Her in such an intimate way as he sat with his face pressed into Her fur, "I will serve as asked...Mother."

As a former zealot, he still considered his life as Her property to begin with.

He could wait to complete his promise a little longer.