Sitting down at the table, not for the first time, in front of a slew of new recruits to the Equestrian Royal Night Guard, or ERNG, I glanced over the new faces before me. Colors from all aspects of the rainbow fanned out as they all sat upon the floor. Weary, tired, trained faces where only a few months ago had been the faces of mare’s boys and fillies, and those of corn-fed rock farmers. A few before me were Bat Ponies, those Children of the Night whom Luna most often employed for their keen night vision and sonar-like echo-locaton abilities. Despite their advantages each pony, be they Bat or Pegasus, had a look of held-back apprehension on their snouts.

And with good reason. I must have seemed somewhat a monster to them. For the past two months, I had been their drive, their fear, their trainer, their king. I had put them through a nightmare in Tartarus, because that was what was asked of me. While most of Equestria lived their lives in relative safety it was with these new faces that, like the many generations before them, that safety would continue to be a reality. Each was now a warrior, or at least well on their way to becoming one. They had made me proud. And how could I be anything but that?

When Fireflight had fallen to exhaustion, Winter Wind and Night Sky had picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. I had punished them all for that. I had specifically told each pony not to help another. So they were punished. I made them do wing-ups for an hour before sending them to their bunks.

I had flown each of them ragged, forcing their wings to strengthen. None had failed to meet my expectations by quitting, even when we flew through Ghastly Gorge, the most dangerous obstacle course nature had ever devised. Many got stuck, and as a result, I’d sent those to the infirmary who had hurt themselves, then put the others through the obstacle course again as punishment.

They had been trained to fly at higher altitudes than most Pegasi or Bat Ponies would even dare to go, for fear of asphyxiation from the low-oxygen content of the upper atmosphere. Not a single Pony had fallen unconscious, despite their wavering in that night sky. I had punished them again for that. A long nights run was the harsh tonic I’d forced them to swallow.

Each time they had been punished. Each time the ponies before me had glared up at me with defiance. They were strong willed, and that was good. That glare of defiance had been the one thing I never punished them for. I pretended not to notice it, which the other trainers often made note of, saying it was my weakness. Maybe that was true, but it didn’t matter. My trainees were strong, and now that the end of the training period was approaching, the time had come to tell them the truth.

So, staring out at the ponies before me, I told them to sit down, because it was “story time.” Some of them whispered amongst each other, while others told them to shut their mouths. Normally I would have forced the group into the ‘front-leaning-rest’ which was code for ‘prepare to do push-ups.’ Not this time.

“Quiet down. Quiet down.” I told them with calm conviction, “It’s the end of your time with me, and this is your last day in training. From this point on, you will be in the employ of Princess Luna and Celestia and anyone under them. You will recieve your duty stations tomorrow.”

Silence reigned as I paused. I had trained them well. A pink pony in the back punched the shoulder of a blue-and-yellow maned stallion to wake him up again. He shook his head. I smiled inwardly because I knew he had been on night-guard all night right after a session of hard physical training. They were still looking out for each other, which was good.

“But, before you go.” I began again, “I want you to know that, despite what you may believe, I am not unfair. You won’t know it until years from now, but every single time I forced you to do push-ups or fly for eight hours straight, I did it for your benefit. Life is not fair. Don’t roll your eyes, it’s the truth.”

I paced a bit, stretching my wings out a little before continuing.

“It may seem like I have been AGAINST you helping each other out this entire time. That is mostly untrue. Each time you helped each other, I punished you, yes. But that was part of the training, to see how far you all would be willing to go before you all stopped helping one another.”

Some of the faces before me seemed unsuprised, while others sighed with relief. A few just frowned, probably feeling like they’d been duped this whole time. I scanned the crowd, the blue-and-yellow one in the back, Lightning Strike, was asleep again. I let it be, he deserved a rest. Lemon Stand, an odd name for a Pegasus, stared up nervously at me. I just nodded in her direction, and she got the message. Lemon Stand was somewhat the group caretaker of her little flight of wingmates. She always made sure everypony had what they needed, and was not afraid to approach me despite the fact that I had forced her to do push-ups every time she had come to me for anything directly for the first month. She was very brave, because I had also yelled a lot, which many ponies initially cowered from, whereas she had not. Some day I hoped she would make a great leader.

I continued without missing a beat, “You all have done me proud, and against what has broken most, you have all succeeded. Against what would have forced most to go ‘everypony for themselves’ you all stood.” I smiled, to which some cowered back just enough for me to see.

I sat down on my haunches, and sighed. “I hope that each of you does our Guard proud. But know that it may not be easy. Yot all are the only thing standing between the chaos of other nations around us, and the safety and security of our loved ones. Be proud in that knowledge, for you are the 1% that is able to do what you have all accomplished this day.” Some of the crowd smiled, including Lemon Stand, who was busy holding up her unconscious wingmate, “Now, though, let me reveal a little secret, to pass the time. Something that a lot of you may or may not know since it’s not exactly publicized at my request. However: You all, because of your effort and strength, deserve to know so long as you keep it to yourselves.”

They all leaned in, eyes wide. I had never offered any personal information about myself aside from my time in the Guard or that of the time I spent in other countries. Such stories were most often used as training aids and explanations where I felt necessary, or when I was just bored and did not feel like yelling and making their lives as bad as a walk through Tartarus. It was something special for them, I assumed.

“I was not always able to fly.” I told them in a slight whisper for effect, “In fact, I was born without wings at all.”

Incredulous looks and furrowed brows populated the snouts and faces of my trainees. Nothing was said however. Either the ponies before me were too shocked to hear such a claim or they were, as I have said before, well trained.

“When I was born, I was an Earth Pony by the name of Air Ramp. I eventually grew to become a pony who worked around the air-equipment we all take for granted nowadays.” I think I became misty-eyed at that point, “Things like Wing-Jets, Tail-Fins, and those magically-lifted, pony-pulled cargo carriers that ferry goods and ground-bourne ponies from place to place faster than a train can...”

I allowed the ponies in front of me to settle comfortably, something I had not be able to allow before. They still had that unbelieving look on their faces, but I assumed they were not about to say anything to break this sudden change I was showing them. They deserved it after all; those brave souls of Training Flight Charlie 3-13.