Everything's Not Lost

>’A loving pony is a happy pony.’ She says.
>You blow away a rogue stand of hair, and continue your strained path.
>’Assistant Officer’ your tired young ass.
>Your breath is already heavy and thick, and you feel the numbness envelop your hands.
>Letting out a quick burst of strength, you manage to stagger yourself to a nearby table, and hoist all the weight on it.
>You let out a relieved sigh, and wipe the beads of hot sweat pooling on your forehead.
>You give your reddened hands a shake, hoping the marks the barrel left would fade away.
>Ah yes, arrow duty.
>You give a quick peek at your burden, a barrel of special arrows.
>Well, they were soon-to-be-special arrows, made and enchanted just for your division of the Equestrian guard.
>Now how’s that for the biggest load of nonsense you’ve ever heard.
>Your rank was just for show (and some extra pay); you did jack shit in the division.
>Maybe peace-keeping work isn’t cut out for a lad of your age.
>Go to the academy, they said.
>You’ll find a good job, they said.
>You hope your adoptive non-human parents are so damn proud.
>”Hey! Assistant Officer! You slacking on the job again?” You hear him yell out behind you, alongside a small kick on your helmet.
“N-No sir!” You scramble to a pose, hand shooting up for a salute.
>Your helmet is still spinning from the kick, only to stop sideways to cover most of your face.
>Even so, you hold your pose, not wanting extra flak.
>”I thought I wanted that new batch of arrows done by lunch! Guess what time it is, guy?”
“Was that a rhetorical question?” You ask nervously, your salute crumbling.
>”Rheto- what? You getting fruity on me, soldier?”
“Pineapples, sir!”
>”Get your flank moving!” The Officer gives you another kick on the shin, prompting you to get moving. “We’re going to need a few more batches today, and I don’t want you mucking up everything!” He adds.
>As if the guards need any more metric tons of this ammunition.
>Still semi-blind from your turned helmet, you dash like a headless chicken with the barrel of arrows on your hands.
>Thank the lords of lifting, you managed to reach your small workshop without causing any collateral damage.
>You push through the wooden door labeled ‘OFF LIMITS’ and find yourself greeted by the sweet smell of your workshop.
>Well, it was more of a sweatshop rather than a workshop, but the overwhelming smell of the enchanting potion made it somewhat bearable.
>The mages say these kinds of potions emit a sweet, nectary scent because apparently that certain smell represents its enchantment the best.
>You believe you once read about mummifying a corpse.
>Some nutjobs thought it was a great idea to cover the body in some resin.
>They say that said resin is so sweet that it triggers a gag reflex.
>You briefly ponder which ingredients might the potions have.
>Anywho, back to the work at hand.
>You set the barrel next to a small fireplace.
>To your left is another barrel filled to the brim with the enchanting potion, and to your right is an empty case for you to fill.
>Dream job.
>Strapping on your work gloves, you pull out an arrow from the pile.
>You then give the tip a quick dip into the pinkish liquid.
>Gently pulling the arrow out, you make sure the base liquid would not drip off.
>No siree, you would not have that vile stuff get all over your workplace.
>Checking once more to make sure the arrow tip is properly coated; you then let the metal tip rest in the fire for a while.
>Not too deep though, you don’t want to burn the entire arrow off.
>The enchantment solidifies immediately, and begins to glow with a faint hue of pink.
>Seems good enough for you.
>You mindlessly drop the finished arrow into the case, and repeat the process.
>Whoop dee fucking doo.

>You would rather not describe how the rest of the day went, since explaining how a tedious work is can be soul-suckingly boring.
>Long story short, you had a wonderful experience in the fine line of blue-collar expertise.
>If the pay wasn’t good enough, you would have left a long time ago.
>Your job? Well, ‘assistant officer’ didn’t quite explain everything about your work.
>It was more of an over-glorified servant for the senior officers.
>What they do is unclear, but they seemed to be doing a good job maintaining the peace in this lovely kingdom.
>Don’t get yourself worked up, it has nothing to do with fighting or open warfare.
>You’re a lover, not a fighter.
>And funnily enough your division has that as its motto.
>What’s your line of work? Well…
>You’re a part of the Equestrian Love Guard.
>Okay, scratch that on the ‘parents being proud’ part.
>You wish you were joking, but the government paid you to play cupid and enforce free-sex.
>Well, at least that’s what the job description said.
>They seemed to forget to put in the fact that menial labour was a large, if not all, part of this job.
>Oh tragedy, your dreams of becoming the matchmaking Dionysus love doctor would never come true.
>Proudly huffing and puffing, you waddle up the same hallway you passed through previously.
>The package feels heavier now, or maybe it just feels like it.
>Before you knew it, you were beginning to sweat.
>You’d admit; you are not the type to sweat easily.
>But when you did, you’d look like you’ve been through a goddamned thunderstorm; or at least in the need of one.
>This was your sad case now; face all red and hot drops of body liquid running down your forehead.
>You had to say, you looked better.
>You try to find relief by alternating the weight between your hands, as if it was a blind man’s juggle.
>Have you ever seen a blind man juggling? Precisely.
>It doesn’t take long for your plan to come crumbling down, and your barrel of arrows, more so.
>But your mighty agility isn’t entirely up to blame; something had hit your left leg hard enough to stop you.
>A small cry of pain is soon silenced by the hail of arrows falling to the marble floor.
>Here’s what happened.
>As the barrel tipped out of your reach, you panicked and reached forward.
>Your hands managed to hold the barrel, but the momentum it had gained was too much for your brittle arms to handle.
>So, the container tipped forward instead, and its contents gushed out.
>Also, you might have kicked whatever that hit you forward.
>For a second, you stand on spot, frozen in shock.
>You know when a baby gets hit and is about to cry but there is a brief pause where it does not realize it has been hit?
>Well, that is what was happening to you.
>It takes a heartbeat for you to realize you had done fucked up- you had committed an atrocious error- you had just given the captain a reason to chew you over.
>This had ‘no-pay-for-you’ written all over it.
>Glancing back and fro, you make sure no one has heard that commotion.
>Of course they did, you twat- they just haven’t bothered to check on it.
>Ohoho, you know what they were thinking.
>’It’s that human again I swear, what is wrong with him, guardpony faggotpolice?’
>’Oh he’s just awkward with his long limbs and dick on everyone’s face, sergeant faggles.’
>Then the two will have a kerfuffle, guffawing as if their mother in law just slipped on dog shit.
>You begin to gather the arrows quickly, chucking them into their container like there was no tomorrow.
>You make sure that no arrows fall off the barrel entry, and keep an eye over it.
>Your hands become so automated that if there was a contest on chucking arrows into a designated direction, you’d win second prize.
>”Ouch!” You hear the pile say.
>Wait, huh?
>You slowly turn to the arrow pile, still looking un-contained.
>Maybe this dire turn of events could have birthed you an eldritch abomination made out of LOVE arrows.
>God help you all.
>Oh wait no- you spot a small strand of pink mane poking through the arrows.
>Putting on the most annoyed frown you could muster, you reach into the pile.
>Once you manage to feel something soft, you immediately pull it up.
>You manage to unearth a small unicorn, pretty much pink all over.
>Keep up the face, Anonymous, you aren’t done with this filly yet.
>The tiny creature looks confused for a second, before its eyes set upon you.
>You see its pupils widen and take form, taking an awful lot of time to register what you were.
>You wave your free hand about in front of the filly’s face, trying to catch her attention.
>Your actions are not in vain, as this seems to have snapped the tiny being back into reality.
>Its tiny button snout darts about, as it tries to grasp how it has ended up in this position.
>”Hey!” It suddenly shouts. “Put me down!” It orders.
>Giving a relaxed shrug, you obey its command.
>You let go of the tuft of mane, dropping the tiny creature back to the ground.
>The filly lets out a weak pained cry as it hits the hard floor.
>Replacing your frown with a smug smirk, you return to your cleaning.
>Of course, this act won’t go without anything else happening.
>The pink creature shoots up back to its feet, and begins to bark at you in some words you cared not to hear.
>Like an angry puppy, the filly runs in circles around you, throwing all kinds of stone age insults a child might be familiar with.
>Hey, if she (You’re probably sure it’s a she) might kept this up, you’ll actually bother being offended.
>Finishing up the clean, you hoist the barrel and begin to make your way to the storeroom.
>You try to drown away the noise the filly was making, probably with some whistling or loud coughing.
>You’d stop once a while to check if the spark of annoyance is still ther- yep, there it is.
>Trying your darnest best to stay focused on your path, you fill your mind with fantasies with thing you could afford with your next pay.
>Why yes madam, you would love to purchase that pack of used kitchen utensils.
>Perhaps it was your lack of interest- or your body going numb from all the lifting- or even the fact that you had those shin guards on- you had no idea that the little filly had dedicated her time to latch onto your leg in some futile attempt to stop you.
>Another voice catches you off guard, causing you to pause and focus on the source of the speech.
>”Princess!” Says some well-dressed unicorn as he hurries towards you.
“Look buddy, I may be scrawny but was the joke really necessa-“ Your whippy comeback is cut short by the sudden tug at your leg.
>You almost flinch at the suspicion you were getting road raped, but this wasn’t the case.
>You see the unicorn trying to tear the small filly off your leg, and him doing a rather bad job at it.
>The three of you tug in place for a while, with you standing while looking annoyed and bothered like a hippo that had too many pokes with a stick at the zoo.
>The unicorn’s grasp started to weaken, sliding away from the tiny pink body he tried so hard to pull away.
>You think the filly’s still calling you names.
>Oooh, the booger-brain is new.
>Trying his best to hold on, the unicorn begins to grasp at anything his old hooves could.
>He finally manages to find some sort of a vantage point, and held on to it for his dear life.
>Turns out that very point loosened and stretched, and the held up momentum reared the unicorn way back.
>This development caught your attention, as it proved as some sort of proof to the mistake of your initial foresight; this was no ordinary filly unicorn.
>It was a pegasus unicorn, like the over-glorified sun clock and the Apollo 11 re-enactor.
>As its wings flared open, the supposed princess pony shot up to the skies.
>It flew in wow-so-amazing circles, just like how it ran.
>You wonder how many towns were razed by the tornadoes this thing could create.
>”I’m going to get you!” You hear the pegasus unicorn declare, as she charged at you.
>You really had no choice in this.
>You really, really didn’t.
>The light red cannon ball slammed at your face, knocking you down while spreading your arrows everywhere.
>You land with a heartbreaking thump, with the arrows raining down around you like your broken hopes and dreams.
>”Oh my! My apologies, guardsman! The princess is-“ The older unicorn goes to list apologies at you, bowing a few times.
>You sigh and stare blackly to the well-polished ceiling.
>And with the most guttural growl you could muster from the furthest reaches of your hating heart, you let out a single comment.
“Kill me.”

>If there was anything more despicable aside the Thursday sloppy joe, it was the Friday unit training (and its surprise soups).
>For some unknown reason, someone higher up thought it would be a great idea to push the training session from the nice, cool morning hours into the noon.
>But hey, it’s just for today.
>Which begs the question why it was implemented in the first place.
>Was it for preparing for the unexpected? Was that the reason? Was it for guards to be alert all the times?
>Well, good to know that plan is working out bloody fucking finely right now, doesn’t it?
>A trickle of hot sweat runs down a side of your helm, wetting your entire face.
>Not the most sparkly way of saying it, but that’s how you felt right now.
>Ironically enough, you would kill for a full-on wet facial.
>And for the sake of the joke, let’s say you’d stay for a cold lick.
>The sergeant over yonder on a platform looks over your bunch with some degree of disinterest.
>You would bet your entire lifesavings on the fact that he did not enjoy this as much as you did.
>The sergeant smirks (there goes your life savings), and does that thing he does.
>He opens his mouth, and proceeds to vacuum the air into his lungs.
>Inflating up like a balloon ready to pop, the sergeant holds the air within him for a second.
>Oxygen levels reaching critical in his tiny brain, he finally let’s ou-
>”TEN-HUT!”
>Every living being within hearing distance (you’re guessing ten miles) straightens their vertebrae and pipes up.
>”Listen up, rookies! This is the roster for street watch this week!” The sergeant clears his throat, and does that thing he always does.
>The pre-talking breathing thing.
>You imagine that his muscles are so well-developed, that his spinal cord is being choked to dysfunction right now.
>”Fleet Hooves!”
>”Sir!”
>”Twinkle Toes!”
>”Sir!”
>The sergeant then goes on to list out a few names, most of them being the same from last week.
>Bullshit on the street watch “circulation”, everyone knew you either have to be extremely outstanding or have friends in high places.
>Speaking of which, that bastard Twinkles- some kid of this noble- needs a good beating over that fucking smirk of his.
>It takes you a second to realize everyone was staring at you.
>You immediately tense up, wondering if you broke some standing rule.
>”Are you deaf, guardsman?!” You hear the sergeant yell, the arteries on his neck beginning to form.
>Confused, you slowly point to yourself.
“Me?”
>”No, Princess Celestia- of course you!”
>Watch that blood pressure, sergeant, you might blow an artery.
>Or three.
“S-Sir?”
>”Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes, private- report later for your street watch duty!” The sergeant replies, shaking his head in a mocking way.
 >”That’s it for today, dis-BAND!” The sergeant screams one last time, setting the guards free.
>You would have thought the Love Guards would be slightly more… Upholding to their cause.
>But never do mind that fact; it was your first run of the street watch!
>This could be amazing!
>This could be fun!
>This could be educational!
>This could be…

>Fukken shit.
>You pace through the empty streets, hauling a bow in one of your hands.
>The arrows in your quiver rattle lightly as you walk, providing some amount of life to your duty.
>You were clad in the usual on-duty armour of the Love Guards, mainly hated for its weight and unnecessary protection.
>You were playing cupid here, what would you be afraid of?
>You potentially had the ability to make ponies fall in love with all kinds of shit.
>Now that sounds great on paper, but in actual duty?
>Nah.
>Street watch was boring and dull.
>Still, it was better than standing like a statue in guest hall or doing mountains of paperwork.
>Or arrow duty…
>On second thought, street watch wasn’t so bad after all.
>You find yourself passing through the richer part of the city, spotting all kinds of restaurants lined up for all kinds of ponies.
>You can’t help but to sneer at all the rich, well fed members of the society, all walking around high and mighty.
>Why can’t they just work as diligently as you? You are the protector of peace!
>In pre or post-marital situations!
>Speaking of situations, you quickly scout out what could be your very first job of the day.
>It was actually rather hard to ignore this couple.
>They were making a large scene in a café, blowing out to shouts and name calling.
>Woah, nobody deserves to be called a fatscnuzzlepants.
>Homing in to your target, you make sure to make an equally loud entry yourself.
“Freeze!” You shout, arrow at the ready. “Love police!”
>Okay, that sounded much better in your head.
>Amazingly enough, they comply, going completely frozen.
>You would admit that happened not because of your authority, but more to your sudden entry.
>After some moment of staring, the stallion begins to speak.
>”Look, guard- I don’t think you understa-“
“OH, I understand it alright. Couple fights, I know, it happens. But I’m here to make it all better.” You try your best to assure the couple that you knew what you were doing.
>You really didn’t.
>Point and click, right?
>”Coupl- wait no-“ The stallion tries to stop the love, but you cut him short once more.
>You do not hesitate one bit, and unleash the enchanted arrow upon the hating couple.
>The enchantment works within a split second, now with the couple apologizing and smooching with each other.
>The once resistant stallion now turns a thankful eye to you, tears welling up.
>”T-thank you, guardsman- I never thought- I never thought I loved her so much, my sister…”
“No problem sir, ju-“
>…
“What.”
>”My sister! Thank you for making me realize!”
“No wait-“
>”I will finally unite with a love I’ve longed for so long, and we’ll have many children together!”
“Dude, that’s kinda gross-“
>”We will love our daughter, and she shall be a musician!”
“Now just hold on a minu-“
>”We’ll name her after a certain noise and that material music is etched on!”
“That sounds like a fucking terrible pony.”
>”Well, we’ll bid you adieu!” The stallion waves, dragging his equally happy sister out of the café.
>Everyone stands shocked, if not horrified.
>Realizing your situation right now, you quickly try to pick up the pieces.
“You know- Equestria really ought to accept love as it is.”
>Ending your quick speech, you make haste to leave the establishment immediately.
>You would like to think that went better than you expected.

>Quickly leaving that scene (and possibly the troubles that can come from it) behind, you head out to a different part of the town.
>You convinced yourself that you just needed a new location to sprout your love legs.
>That term was meant to emulate the saying ‘sea legs’ but it just sounds like a really long penis.
>You find yourself in the marketplace, the smell of dirt and all kinds of produce slowly filling your nose.
>You supposed you could find some work here, and if you get bored, you could possibly make people fall in love with potatoes or something.
>Aside from that, you could probably do some matchmaking from all these passing glances.
>Hold on, since when were you an expert in relationships?
>Since that elderly couple fighting in the stalls, of course.
>”You age like milk!”
>”Me, milk? Speak for yourself you dying sack of filth! You’re lucky to have a wife that ages fine like wine!”
>”You? Wine? Well I- actually, yes, you are aging like alcoholic grape juice, there’s certainly a lot of WHINE.”
>”You’re the one to talk about whining, mister where’s-my-pay and me-back-aches-rub-it!”
>”Get off my back, you devilish hag.”
>”I hope you die- wait; you can’t kill what’s already dead!”
>You briefly ponder on what repercussions of your interruption could make, but you decide to jump in anyway.
>Silently taking out another arrow from your quiver, you ready the weapon of mutually assured destruction.
>Pulling back the bow string, you listen in on the noise it makes as it stretches.
>Just gotta aim it just right…
>Wait, who do you hit? You supposed the old mare needed more encouragement on the side…
>Deciding on your target, you draw your breath and ready your bow.
>Just as you were about to let the arrow loose, a small blur enters your field of vision.
>”HEY MISTER!”
>You try to stop, but it was too late- the arrow was already moving.
>You jerk the bow up in surprise, sending the arrow up into the air.
>The arrow passes the blur by a few centimeters, brushing past what you believed was its mane.
>Your vision fixes on the arrow, as it heads right towards a wall.
>It ricochets, shooting towards an exposed pipe.
>There it bounces again, going towards the stone floor, then to the passing cart, then to the lamp post, then to the window panel, then to the mail box, then to…
>You?
>Your legs quickly give out, ducking you away from the coming projectile.
>You feel your head suddenly getting lighter, while experiencing a cooling wind pass through your hair.
>Lucky for you, the arrow finally came to a halt on the wooden support beam behind you.
>Good thing it only took off your helmet, that foot long love maker could have gone through your head.
>Happy that you have avoided a potential death penalty, you turn your annoyance at the small form that probably caused this in the first place.
>Your eyes come to a stop at a small pink filly, who smiles innocently back at you.
>Staring down disapprovingly, you raise an eyebrow at it- expecting some form of apology.
>It just fidgets with its tiny hooves, still smiling awkwardly.
>Suddenly remembering you had a job, you quickly get to your feet.
>You decide that recycling is the best choice in your line of work, and turn to the lodged arrow.
>As your hands grip on the weapon, you finally hear the filly speak.
>”I uh, sorry about that.”
“Riiiight.” You say, jerking the arrow free.
>The retrieval also goes to free the helmet, leaving you to inspect the damage on its surface.
>You see a straight line of two holes on the front and the backside of the headwear, a clean shot.
>For one, you are happy your archery exercises are working perfectly.
>Still, the sergeant is going to chew some ass over the damage.
>’Do you know how much bits does it cost to-’ et cetera et cetera.
>Hell, they probably melt the bits to make this armor.
>”C’mon, I said I was sorry!” The little filly shouts, quickly regaining your attention.
“Yeah thanks, almost getting my head shot off is my favorite pastime.”
>”Does that mean we’re cool?”
“No.”
>You briefly take your eyes off the tiny creature, trying to look for the elderly couple once more.
>To your disappointment; they had moved on, not to mention the crowd making it impossible to locate them.
>”Come oooon, big guy, are you mad?” The filly talks to you in an almost mocking tone.
“Go away.” You grunt as try to wave this annoyance away.
>You hang your bow on your shoulder, and hold its grip to secure it in place.
>Scowling over what should be nothing, you assure yourself the next chance would be the start of your beginner’s luck.
>Maybe you could try your chances at the local bar?
>The alcohol could do some wonders in being a lubricant in smoothing out the flow of emotions.
>Both figuratively and literally, of course.
>”Hey, come on tall guy- lay off the scowl; you’re making me feel bad.”
>You take a quick look at the filly following you.
>It was surprisingly taller than what you expected, this specific pony was much slimmer and taller compared to others of its age.
>Her tri-coloured mane (is that even possible?) shone and bounced in the sun- like every living being in this realm.
>Every being except you, apparently.
>Speaking of the sun, the day was nearing its end.
>And like every 6 PM since you could remember, the sun sets in the most majestic way possible.
>A straight nose dive into the horizon.
>Like you said, over glorified sun clock.
>The street is suddenly blanketed with the darkness, only to be lighted by the lamps of the ponies smart enough to prepare beforehand.
>Almost like a cue, the moon decides to shoot up to the sky, adding its pale illumination.
 >”You know, it is getting late.” The filly goes off.
>Yes, it is getting late to kick you over the head and tell you to shut up.
“Go home then, kid.” You reply.
>”But it’s dark and scary! Could you take me home, mister guard?”
>You take a quick look around.
>The street lamps were already lit, not to mention the glows coming from houses that flanked the area.
>You look up to see the moon just as bright as ever, practically leaving the city bright as day.
>”Are you gonna leave a widdle filley here?!”
>Yes.
>You turn a disapproving stare at the small annoyance, and hold your gaze.
>”How about going with me on your way home?”
>Good heavens, this little thing is persistent.
>What does she want from you, anyway? Is she working with the local mobs or something?
>Maybe you’re right, Anon; she could lead you to a dark alley where ponies could steal your organs.
>You let out a small chuckle.
“My way home? Do you even know where I live?” You ask, hoping she isn’t heading towards the castle.
>”… No?”
“Well, my barracks are in the castle, so I doubt you’ll be heading there, kid.”
>”The castle? Oh wow! I live there too!” The filly exclaims, brightening up a little.
>You freeze for a second.
“What? Ho- wait a minute.” You stop yourself, you know this filly. “I know you. The brat from the castle!”
>”Well duuuh, you big dumb doy.”
>Endangering yourself to even more scowls, you right your body, and march on.
>Perhaps if you ignore the problem, it would go away.
>…
>”So then I was like, that dress is icky! I want a new one! So the Chamberlain sa- hey, are you listening?”
>It’s hard to not to.
>You wonder what they feed the little shit at the castle; she has been running her mouth off constantly for the last hour.
>”And then Twinkle was ugly, but I said she wasn’t, but she really was! And isn’t this romantic?”
“Oh. My. God, would yo- wait what?” You snap for a second, only to be surprised on what you heard.
>”Nuffin. SOOOO, I felt bad and then she wasn’t ugly anymore!”
>It hurts to live.

>Ever since you met the little filly, she won’t leave you alone.
>She’s following you everywhere, always trying to talk your ear off over some menial task or event that happened to her.
>Is this what marriage is like? You would rather die a bachelor then.
>Turns out, the filly really was living in the castle, a part of the royal family, to boot.
>She was as spoiled and annoying as you would expect from royalty, rich and (somewhat) powerful.
>Still, having her around had SOME advantages.
>One, you’ll always have the best duty, the guard duty.
>The last time the sergeant tried to pull you off the roster, the filly burst such a fit that even Celestia herself had to come down and calm her down.
>Turns out she wanted you to ‘hang out’ with her every day.
>You’re not complaining, of course, that was extremely entertaining.
>You could say you were getting some great bonuses from being annoyed by this filly.
>What was her name again?
>Caddy?
>Caddy it is.
>”Anon!”
>Right on the schedule, there comes your second job of the day.
>Though you must admit, this was more like a babysitting job with some arrow shooting on the side.

>You watch Caddy run at you from a distance, looking extremely excited, for some reason.
>You groan and continue to munch on your lunch, mindlessly stuffing your mouth.
>”Anon! We can’t be eating! You promised you’ll take me on patrol today!”
“I take you on patrol every day.”
>”Yeah, but you promised this time!”
“I recall no thing.” You argue, trying to tease the little creature.
>”But you DID! You did you did you did you did you did you did you did you did! And you’re not doing anything now!”
“I’m sorry, Caddy, I’m on duty.” You say, waving the whine away.
>”No you’re not! You’re eating!” Caddy points an accusing hoof at you.
“I beg your pardon?” You ask in a mock insulted tone. “I am currently uniting two lovers, my stomach and this sandwich.”
>”You’re a big smelly liar, Anon.”
“Hey.” You retort, standing up. “I am not smelly.”
>”And you’re stupid too!”
“I am brilliant; I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
>”You tried to make two stallions love each other!”
“That was accident and you know it.”
>”A big dumb accident.”
>That’s it; you’re not taking this shit from a kid.
>Throwing off what little of the sandwich you had left, you prepare to resume your duties.
>”About time!” The filly comes to life again, running circles around you. “Where’s we heading this time, chief?”
“Hmmm, how about the Southern residential quarter?” You suggest, as you hang your bow over your chest.
>”No, they only have old ponies there. Too boring. Oh! How about- the Plaza?”
“We’ve been there on Tuesday.”
>”Well, I don’t see you making better suggestions.”
“I guess we can hit the markets again.”
>”Sure, if I want to die of boredom.”
“The Markets it is!” You exclaim, half-hoping the filly would be right.
>Mind made up and too lazy to change your course, the two of you slowly make your way towards the Markets.

>Slowly reeling an arrow back, you make sure to take your time matching up to your target.
>Slow and steady wins the race, right?
>A trickle of sweat runs down your neck, cooling the strained muscles.
>Your hand begins to shake lightly; you won’t be able to hold this long.
>But you ought to be careful, just there, just…
>”Just shoot the darn thing!” Caddy shouts, frustrated on your lengthy aiming session.
>You let go in surprise, sending the arrow straight at the cutie mark of your target.
>It lands perfectly, and the sequence of your diabolical love story begins to fall in place.
>Lucky you actually learned to stop flinching every time Caddy yelled, that alone could just wreak havoc in the city.
>Watching the ponies make up for their fight and be generally more pleasurable people bring a tint of satisfaction in your heart.
>You smile, and like a victory pose, you put up a fist.
>Caddy jumps up, and bumps it with her own tiny hoof.
>”Mission accomplished?”
“Mission accomplished.”
>Quickly forgetting about your accomplishment, you begin to look around once more.
>The guard watchtower was a wonderful vantage point, and it eliminated the issue with crowds blocking your way.
>You cup a hand over your eyes, protecting them from the stinging sunlight.
>”Anon, light green mare, six O’clock.” You hear Caddy giving you your next target, with a tap on your helmet.
>You begin on homing in on the supposed target, watching how this conflict is playing out.
>Well, you couldn’t really tell what was going on, you were at least thirty meters from them.
>You suppose the knife swinging and the reddened faces warranted your incursion.
>Aim and release, easy peezy nipple squeezy.
>”Got another one?”
“Nailed it.”
>You and your partner in crime once again salute each other, while taking a quick bite off a lollipop she brought.
>The rest of the day proceeds to go on uneventfully, the two early cases being the only notable work.
>A few stray pegasi stopped by to ask for directions, but other than that, you had the chance to slack off.
>For once, you really felt like you were enjoying this job.
>Rolling the lollipop to the other side of your mouth, you take the moment to sink into a more relaxed pose on your chair.
>Placing both hands on the back of your head, you prepare to slink off into a nap.
>Alas, the heavens would not see to that happen, as would Caddy right by you.
>”Anon, are you asleep?”
“Yes.” You reply groggily.
>”Oh. I’ll get to yo- waaait a minute…”
>You can’t help but to pop a smile.
>Caddy is silent for the moment, but you know she is going to speak anyway.
>There always was this thick air hanging about when she is going to speak.
>You’d like to think the ringing silence is a distant echo to her senseless talking and volume.
>”What do you do when not in duty?” Caddy asks, breaking the silence.
“I’m always in duty.”
>”That’s sad and boring. Don’t you have friends?”
“Not much.”
>”How about a marefriend? Aren’t you lonely?”
“No and no, Caddy.” You say, not giving much thought into your answers.
>”Why?”
>Good lord this filly is inquisitive.
“Because…” You try to conjure up an answer.
>”Becaaaauuusseee?” Caddy echoes you, still eagerly awaiting an answer.
>You feel a light weight on your chest, and open up your eyes to confirm that it is the filly.
“Because who needs mares when I have you to annoy me?” You reply, letting out a small laugh.
>”You’re not getting other mares because of me?”
“Sure, whatever you say, kiddo.” You say, before trying once more to doze off.
>After what only feels like a heartbeat, you are shaken awake.
>Surprise, surprise, it is Caddy once more, looking awfully bored on your chest.
“What.”
>”I’m bored!” The filly shouts, as if her wish is going to be fulfilled this instant.
“You always say that.”
>”Because you’re a borefest! Are you sure an old pony didn’t die just by being near you?”
“How I wish.” You shrug off her poor attempt at insulting, and turn your attention away from her. “Entertain yourself.”
>With an annoyed sigh, the small creature hops off you.
>Caddy frantically tries to search for anything, anything worth of interest and entertainment.
>Taking the chance, you try once more to slink away into slumber.
>”Anon!” A sudden burst of noise catches you completely off guard.
>Caught with your pants down, you jerk in surprise, leading to your fall from your chair.
>Apparently Caddy found this rather hilarious, letting out her shrill laughter.
>Picking yourself and the remnants of your pride back up, you finally give up on the chances of getting any sleep in this job.
>”I want ice cream!” Caddy demands.
>Like you said; a baby sitter.

>Licking your ice cold treat, you lean back on a nearby lamp post.
>Caddy leaves the store soon after, holding up her ill-gotten chocolate ice cream with her magic.
>She happily bites down on the soft surface, taking chunks of the treat within seconds.
>You were more of a licker, as well as being a vanilla guy.
>While you didn’t appreciate the fact that you had to pay for her ice cream, you didn’t mind this cooling break from the sun.
>But seriously, doesn’t she have treasury access or some shit?
>Letting your mind wander on the impact of ice cream prices on your finances, you do not notice a single trail of the melting goodness slip down your hand.
>Cursing the fact that a certain Wednesday lunch might be ruined, you quickly lean down to lick away the rogue strand.
>You take a quick flick of eyes at Caddy, only to discover she had already devoured her own ice cream and is now eyeing yours.
“Don’t even think about it.”
>”But you eat so slooooow!”
“So?”
>”I want to help you eat it.” Caddy says, putting on her best innocent look.
>It might have worked, if not for the fact that you know how she works- as well as the splatter of chocolate around her mouth.
“That’s awfully kind of you.” You say, teasingly turning away from Caddy.
>”C’mon! Just a bite!” Caddy begs, while trying to land a nibble out of your ice cream.
>Caddy begins to jump around, each hop a lunge to earn some of your frozen desert.
>Not letting that happen, you begin to pace backwards, swinging your arm carefully to avoid her relentless assault.
>Her puny wing flapping does little to assist her in attaining her goal, only having the skirmish ending you running away.
>And by god, you ran like a madman, cackling into the sunset.

>”Assistant Officer, a word, if I may.”
>You shake yourself back to attention, return right back to what you were doing.
>It was another Friday, and an officer just stopped you in the hallway.
>You blink slowly; doing your best to conjure up a good reason an officer of the guard would be stopping you on your way to work.
>The officer, not giving much thought to your attention span, continues their speech.
>”We have noticed your work efficiency of the late…”
>Oh god, is it about that gay case?
>You were tired and confused, nothing more, you swear.
>”… And we are rather impressed. You show exceptional success in your line of work.”
>Phew.
>”And for that reason, we are considering to include you for a future project.”
“A project?”
>”Yes, as you see; contrary to what other populace might believe, emotional stability is the best possible way to maintain peace. Sadly, guards in your division are severely undermanned, as well as having little influence outside the capital.”
“How does that involve me?” You ask- in the nicest way possible.
>”We were hoping to send out some of our exceptional members of the guards- to provide training on other settlements as well as keeping the peace.”
>Other settlements?
>”Of course, being part of this project earns you many incentives, such as better pay, improved equipment, chances on gaining promotions, and many more.”
“How long would I be gone?”
>”As long as you are needed.”
>You pause and weigh the options.
>What could you possibly lose? You got chances on moving up the ranks, as well as some experience.
>”We don’t need your answer right now; you can find me any time in my office. Good day, Assistant Officer.” Ending their speech right there, the officer promptly turns to leave.
>Having no hesitation, you immediately call out to the officer.
“Sir, wait-“
>”Yes?”
“Count me in.”

>Your teeth gently push through the cold surface, freeing a nice, bite-sized chunk of the frozen food for you to enjoy.
>You take a moment to savor to taste of vanilla melting away in your cheeks, only to find yourself wanting more.
>Caddy stares up to you expectantly, silently licking away her chocolate ice cream.
>”So, what’s got you all riled up?” She finally asks, looking up curiously.
“Hmmm? Oh, I got a new job offer.” You say, briefly waking from all the day dreaming.
>”So you can stop being such a lame guard?”
“Har-har.” You do a mock laugh, as you direct your attention back to the city.
>It has been two days since you applied for the project.
>During those two short days, you’ve been promoted to a lieutenant and met with your team.
>This new rank brought you a better room, a shiny badge to pop on your shirt, and most importantly, better food.
>Not that you have time to get used to this, you were informed you would be leaving in a mere week.
>You won’t be getting much free time as well; you had some training to do to suit this new line of work.
>You doubt you’ll be able to enjoy the ice cream any longer; life was catching up to you.
>You supposed Caddy should do well without you around; at least she won’t be crying about how boring everything is.
>”Sooo, what’s with the doodad?”
“Hmmm?”
>You feel a slight tug on your collar, as Caddy slowly frees a badge half- hidden within your uniform armor.
“Oh, that? I got promoted a while ago.”
>”You? Promoted? But you’re a horrible guard!” Caddy argues, letting go of the collar.
“Tell that to the brass. I’m leaving for duty next week.”
>”You’re leaving?”
“Yep. To Manehattan, I think.” You give Caddy a teasing push with a finger. “Now you’ll have to entertain yourself, Caddy.”
>Caddy goes silent for a while, for once ignoring her ice cream.
>”When are you coming back?”
“When my work is done, I suppose. Give or take two years?”
>”W-When are you leaving again?”
“You’ll need some new friends, kiddo.” You say, not hearing her question. “And stop bothering everyone.”
>”Yeah…” Caddy trails away, and goes silent.
>Surprisingly enough, the silence is kept, leaving you to some last minute rest for the coming week.
>Bracing yourself for the inevitable, you wince silently and contract the muscles on your stomach.
>Turns out the weight of a filly landing on your stomach is still somewhat painful.
>Seconds pass uneventfully, which in turn catches your interest.
>Opening your eyes, you begin to examine your surroundings.
>Caddy is still on her spot, staring silently into her melting ice cream.
“You okay?” You ask, starting to worry for the little pony.
>”Yeah…”
“You sure? We can go for another ice cream.”
>”I’m fine.” Caddy replies solemnly.
>The two of you soon drift into a stalemate once more, and the rest of your shift goes as such.

>You went into the special training the very next day.
>Whole new schedules were laid out for you, completely occupying your days.
>The entire exercise wasn’t too bad, but you would argue that it was a whole you level of tedium.
>Laps around the fields, mandatory exercises, it’s like you were back on your PE days in grade school.
>The officers said it was to fit you for all the moving you’d be doing, as well as physical prep for the coming tasks.
>Unless you were planning on knocking down ponies and forcibly sending on dates, you’d say this was somewhat redundant.
>You gradually forgot about Caddy, and focused more on the coming future.
>She came up on your head once in a blue moon but you believed it was for the best.
>After all, she was part of royalty; she could find as many friends as she could want.
>Days passed quickly, and you never knew about a certain princess awaiting her guard after school.
>She sat on waiting, just like before.
>Too bad you never showed up.
>And you believed that was a sad goodbye between the two of you, as you would not see her again until the coming future.

>”Woooow, are you really a guard lieutenant, sir?” A pair of blue saucers look up to you hopefully.
>You smile and nod down to the tiny white colt under you, flashing your badge.
>”That’s so cool! Are you on a mission?” He asks once more, ever curious and excited.
“You could say that.” You say, throwing your duffle bag over your shoulder.
>”Sorry if my cousin’s bothering you.” A fellow guard pony say, smiling apologetically.
>So this was Shooting Star’s excitable cousin.
>Kneeling to his eye-level, you converse with your comrade’s cousin.
“So, you were the cousin I heard so much about.” You say, ruffling his mane. “What’s your name, kiddo?”
>”Shining Armor!” The small thing replies eagerly.
“You wanna be a guard?”
>”Yep! One day, I’m gonna be a captain and go on my own super secret missions!” The colt shouts, crouching as if he was on the said mission.
“I’m sure I’d send you my recommendation, Shining.”
>”Wow, Really?”
“Sure thing, guardsman.” You say, saluting the colt.
>The child returns the gesture, puffing out his chest in pride.
“Anyway, I’ll put down my stuff outside, alright?” You alert your team, standing up.
>That’s right, it was your day to go.
>Everyone could bring a bag full of their belongings, nothing more.
>It’s noon now, the train to Manehattan was set to leave at seven.
>The plan was to have lunch and one final ceremony before the hoping guards would leave.
>You had an awkward brunch, so you were filling the spare time by packing your things early.
>Leaving Shining Armor and the barracks behind, you set out to drop off your items in the designated spot.
>Lucky for you, being an officer meant someone else would move your stuff for you.
>Benefits.
>The path to the drop-off was mostly unpopulated, just the same old dead spacious hallways of reflective beige surfaces.
>You soon exit through a door, leading you to the side-lobby of the castle.
>A cart was stationed there, which served as your drop-off point.
>What you failed to anticipate was another visitor to the location.
>To your surprise, it was no fellow guardsman; it was that filly you knew.
>Caddy.
>”Hi Anon.” She greets you flatly, trying to feign a smile.
“Hey, how’re you doing?” You greet her back, with slightly more enthusiasm.
>”Are you leaving today?” Caddy asks right away, ignoring you.
“At seven, yeah.”
>”But you can’t go.”
“Why not? Come on Caddy, you know this is best for me. New job, new experiences- you know?”
>”B-but, I like you a lot…”
“Hey, friends come and go, right? And besides, I’ll be-“
>”No, I mean I really really, really like you!” Caddy begins to speak up.
“You could find a new friend-“
>”Anon, I like you like you, okay!” She shouts, slightly flinching at her own speech.
>You freeze.
>The little girl had a crush on you?
>”S-So, you can’t go, Anon. I think you’re cool and stuff.” Caddy admits, digging a hoof into the ground nervously.
>You can’t help but to look away and clench your teeth.
>How will you get out of this situation now?
“Come on kiddo, you just know that can’t-“ You pause.
>You really can’t help the filly in anyway, maybe perhaps if she just-
>Wait a minute.
>That just might work.
>Smiling gently, you turn to Caddy, who was in the verge of tears.
“Okay Caddy, I won’t leave. But only if you will go to grab ice cream with me.” You offer, still keeping your smile.
>”Really?!” Caddy replies, suddenly bright and excitable.
“Yep, you go on ahead, I’ll grab my things and catch up with you.”
>”Sure thing, Anon!” Caddy returns, before quickly dashing off into the distance.
>Good kid.
>A bit selfish, but still, a good kid.
>Though you must admit, you weren’t really in the place to talk about being selfish.
>Goodbye, Caddy.

>’A loving pony is a happy pony’, she says.
>Your short work as the Love Guard had you doing many things.
>You made and broke relationships; you brought people together and apart.
>Though you must admit, majority of your work did not involve much of the said parts.
>Most of the time, you were observing.
>You never took part directly; you were simply a third party that served as a catalyst to a brewing situation.
 >Simply put, you just watched.
>You just watched and gave the right push.
>That’s all you’ll ever do, you thought.
>And this situation was no exception.
>If the equation was falling apart, then you’d need to isolate the cause.
>So you did what you have always done happily.
>You fell back, and you watched.
>You watched the little pony waiting for you at the ice cream shop.
>Her name is Cadence, and she is a rather energetic child who had taken an interest on you.
>While you did not require or ask for her companionship, it was appreciated.
>You watched the eager look on her eyes, the bright gleam that came with all hopeful beings.
>You were not sure why she had felt that way towards you, but it was an effort for naught.
>All for the shallow and obvious reasons, you did not feel the same way.
>So you only watched from afar, preparing your own personal intervention.
>If you knew Cadence any better, it was the fact that she was a persistent, arrogant child.
>No amount of denies would change her mind.
>Call it a panic move, or even a cowardly way out.
>You just worked with your own line of expertise.
>You watched as she met your would-be replacement, Shooting Star’s little guardsman colt.
>Shining Armor, a colt with the dreams of being the guard.
>He seemed like a nice kid, he would do just fine.
>While the guilt of tricking the kid into this entire situation weighed hard, you thought it could do the two some good.
>Silly you, you completely forgot about the two being unfamiliar with each other.
>To your surprise, the two greeted each other like acquaintances, talking to one another rather naturally.
>Perhaps they share the same class in their school.
>It doesn’t really matter, the fact only helped to strengthen the chances of your success.
>Waiting for the right moment, you watch on- holding back for the right timing to make your push.
>And just when their eyes meet…
>Grasping your bow firmly with your left hand, you gently pull out a single arrow with your right.
>Settling the thin base of the arrow on the string, you pause for a moment to take in a deep breath.
>Pulling in the air, you straighten your spine as you reel back the arrow.
>Instantly locking your muscles into place, you take aim with an already pointed index finger of your bow-hand.
>Your middle and index finger holds the shot steady, keeping your weapon at the ready.
>Finishing up your mental calculations, you settle for a single angle.
>And finally letting out the drawn breath, you loosen the two fingers.
>A single glowing projectile shoots out into the air, rapidly flying towards its intended target.
>You witness the scene wordlessly, still frozen in your aim- as if it would keep the arrow on its course.
>The pointed tip of the arrow quickly buried itself on Cadence’s back, only to poof away in a split-second.
>The effect was immediate, as Cadence suddenly took an overwhelming amount of interest on the colt next to her.
>Confirming the success of your handiwork, you put away your bow and begin nearing the two fillies.
>You easily ‘apologize’ about losing your way, and proceed to buy the treats the children were promised.
>However, it was not necessary; as the two began ignoring you, only diverting more focus in one another.
>You watched as Caddy made Shining promise to be her personal guard.
>You watched them walk side by side.
>You watched them smile and joke.
>You watched them wave you goodbye, as your train neared the station.
>Turning back to give your final, ignored goodbye, you head in without any hesitation.
>Finding your reserved seat, you find yourself quickly blanking away, only to be awakened by the melting chocolate ice cream in your hand.
>Wanting to wave for another time, you turn to the window next to you.
>Though your effort was in vain, as Cadence and Shining Armor were being led away by their respective guardians.
>Placing a hand on the cold glass, you can’t help but to feel a dull ache in your chest.
>It was of your own doing, and the results cannot be any more satisfactory.
>Perhaps the sight of a friend going away was too much for you to burden.
>Even when the train had started moving, you could not help but to freeze in the same position.
>Cupping away the ache and the thoughts of doubt, you silently watched them as they faded away.
>You stayed the same for as long as you could remember-
>Because they sure didn’t.

http://youtu.be/0IywjWWlxF8