Youth

I stared at the old unicorn mare as she slowly walked back and forth in front of the group. I stood in the middle of a line of foals just like myself. Only one colt in the group already had his cutie mark, which had me all sorts of jealous, even if it was just a hammer and nail. I looked back at the mare as she turned and started back toward my end of the group.

“Alright. Do any of you know why you’re here?” she asked. She looked from the colt who had his cutie mark, then to each one of us, before her eyes finally fell to a rest on me. Her tail snapped behind her, and she squinted. “Well?”

“To learn to shoot?” one filly offered.

“Wrong!” shouted the mare. “You are here to learn to defend yourselves. The Wasteland holds terrible things.” She stomped her hoof, the held it up. “Raiders.” She pointed at the colt with the cutie mark. “Feral ghouls.” She jabbed the hoof toward the filly who’d answered her. “Taint.” She pointed toward the filly on the far end of the line. “Radiation.” She pointed at me.

The group collectively shrunk back, and murmuring began. I knew these foals from around town. None of them were stupid enough to go running into danger without a good reason first. We’d been raised together since the town was formed, and the townsponies were quick to remind us what lay outside the city walls.

“Fortunately for you, that does mean shooting lessons today,” explained the mare. She smiled at us, and pointed over to a collection of small caliber pistols lined up on a bench.

One foal let out a cheer, not that I knew who. I was too focused on getting the one revolver of gun lineup. Three of the five of us foals were unicorns, and I wasn’t one of them. The other was the only pegasus I’d ever seen, and she was fast. I’d need to be quick.

“Now now, I know you’re all excited. But this doesn’t mean that you get to run around playing. These are tools and can kill you if you’re not careful,” said the old unicorn. Her horn began to glow and she lifted a pistol from the bench. Hovering it in the air, she ejected the clip from the bottom and held that up too. “These bullets are just as deadly as the things out in the Wasteland you’ll be needing to protect yourselves from. If I see any roughhousing, goofing off, or pretend shooting at another member of the training class, you will be removed.”

The colt with the cutie mark saluted. Slowly, the rest of us followed suit until each member of the group had a hoof at their forehead.

“At ease, soldiers,” joked the teacher. She slid the magazine back into the gun and pointed it away from us. “There’s targets down around the corner. Each of you go collect a firearm and we’ll head down to practice shooting.” She hovered the pistol she held over to the pegasus foal, who took it in her teeth. I heard a quiet click. “Safeties on. Follow me.” She trotted off.

I ran, as fast as I could. Three different colors of magic wrapped around three guns before I could get anywhere close. They joked and talked amongst themselves casually while they walked toward the shooting range. Halfway there, and I watched the revolver slide through the air to the colt with the cutie mark. There went that. I slowed to a walk and grabbed the remaining pistol. It tasted of rust. Better than nothing, I supposed.

Together the five of us walked around to the shooting range. The unicorn had set up fifteen Sparkle~Cola and Sunrise Sarsaparilla bottles on a fence about ten yards away. She stood at a line painted over the dirt and looked toward us.

“Alright. How about, Shortcake. You first,” she announced. She swung her head to the side and motioned for the filly to come closer. “Stand here at this line.” When the filly did as she was told, the mare continued. “Now hold your gun here.” She wrapped her own telekinesis around Shotcake’s and forcefully moved it so she could see down the sights. “Now, use your magic to fire the gun down range. Use the sights to aim for one of the bottles.”

She looked at the older mare and then back down the range. With a soft voice, she asked, “Which do I-”

“Whichever you feel most comfortable with. They’re not going to jump out of the way,” the mare answered, cutting her off. Her magical aura disappeared and another click sounded as she removed the safety from the gun.

Shortcake spent the next solid minute aiming. Those of us waiting grew restless, but any goading got a sharp glare from the teacher and the threat of being sent home. When Shortcake finally fired, she missed.

“Eeep!” she yelped, crouching down. With a loud pop, her magic fizzled and the gun clattered to the ground. Her yellow coat turned red as she blushed. “It... It has a kick,” she sheepishly announced.

“Better a kick from the gun than a raider stabbing you, dear. Try again,” coached the unicorn mare. “Just take a deep breath, aim with the sights, and fire. You can do it.”

Shortcake fired another shot without waiting. It dug into the fencepost, but missed any of the bottles. They shook, but stayed where they were.

The mare trotted forward and crouched down beside her. “Okay, let me help,” she practically whispered. Her magic wrapped around the filly’s and she adjusted the gun. “See how the sights line up? You can see the second one between the close set? Look at it exactly like that and aim for a bottle.” She didn’t release her magic though, holding the gun steady in the filly’s magical grasp.

“O-okay,” muttered the yellow unicorn. She swallowed, and fired another shot. That one went true, and shattered the top off one of the Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles. She let out a cheer when she hit and danced around, yelling, “I did it! I did it!”

“Good job. Let’s let somepony else have a try,” said the mare. You go wait with the others. “Tumble. Your turn.”

My ears perked when I heard her call my name. I smiled around the grip on the gun and trotted forward. Finally!

“You ready for this?” asked the teacher when I got to the line.

I couldn’t really answer with a gun in my mouth, so I just nodded. Holding a gun like this made it a bit easier to aim, since I couldn’t really hold it away from my head like the unicorns could. I stared down the sights like I’d heard her explain to Shortcake.

“Okay, same thing I said to her. Just look down the sights and aim for whichever bottle you want to shoot,” she said. Her magic aura wrapped around the gun and the safety clicked off. “Go ahead.” She took a step back to let me do my thing.

It didn’t seem that hard. I could do it, easy. I kind of wished that we didn't have to learn this stuff, but, it was now or never. Why couldn't the wasteland just let us be foals? We had to grow up too fast, and this was my first step.

I fired.

The shot went wide. It shattered a bottle on the far right. I’d been aiming for the middle one.

“Nice shot!” announced the teacher.

“Good one,” yelled the colt. The others offered their praise as well.

It felt like I didn’t deserve the cheers though. How did my aim go that far off?

I wasn’t a markspony, that was for sure. Was it a lack of practice or just not something I was meant to be good at. I looked back at my haunches, wondering if ‘being a bad shot’ could be a special talent. No cutie mark.

“Be careful. Don’t point the gun at others,” said the teacher. She grabbed the gun in her magic and forced it toward the ground. “The last thing we need is a misfire.” The gun wretched to the side and back toward the bottles downrange. “Two more then we switch again.”

Blushing, I aimed again.

Two shots later and another bottle lay in pieces behind the fence piece. The rest of the lesson went in a blur. I couldn’t tell if I was happy or upset. Praise I didn’t deserve for the shooting, and a rush of excitement making me shake.

For the first time I shot, I’d done pretty good right? Maybe it wasn’t me that aimed bad, maybe the gun just had bent sights? Or it might just be that I needed more practice. It took years for the city guards to get good, according to mom and dad at least. They’d explained several times, after each attempt to get my cutie mark and failing, that it would show up when it was ready. I didn’t want to wait though.

I sat on the town wall, overlooking the Wasteland with my dad. He’d offered to do a shift of guard duty to show me the ropes. We were on a ledge a ways below the top of the wall, the place where guards would pace to keep their eye out for dangers.

“So, how was the lesson?” he asked. Another earth pony like me, he had a gun strapped to his side with a battle saddle. He looked almost like a soldier in his guard getup, but with his light blue eyes, red coat, and green mane, he was still dad.

“It was okay, I guess,” I said nervously. I wanted to talk to him about what happened, but I didn’t know how to talk about it.

He looked back and forth across the barren fields and to the distance. With nothing dangerous on the horizon, he turned to me. “Just okay?” he asked.

“I hit the target, but not the one I was aiming for,” I explained. I shuffled my forehoof and looked at the ground.

“That’s better than I did my first time,” he said with a smile. “You’re still a foal, right? You can’t expect to be amazing at everything the first try.” He wrapped a leg around me and squeezed.

I hugged back. “I guess so, I just really wanted to... to...” I said, stopping when I realized I didn’t even know what I’d wanted out of it.

Dad sat next to me. He looked over the Wasteland once more, always remaining watchful. With no threats coming, he looked over at me. “Youth is supposed to be a time for fun, not worrying about death. Take this time to try things, to learn, to explore. Your mother and I will be here to protect you. The walls are here make sure we’re all safe.” He hugged me again, then pointed a hoof out over the Wasteland. “Out there is where it’s dangerous, but you won’t need to be traipsing around the Wasteland for a while yet.”

“I know dad,” I muttered. I hated being treated like I was a little foal. I was old enough to get a cutie mark, dammit.

“Just promise me you won’t try and grow up too fast?” he requested.

“I promise, dad...” I admitted. He had a point. If I grew up too fast I’d end up with a lot more chores to do.

“Thanks. I’d be all sorts of broken up if I lost my little girl,” He said. He ruffled my short mane with a hoof, but stopped and looked up past the wall. “Go inside. Now.” I started to ask what he’d seen, but he just repeated, “Now.”

I knew that tone. Dad wasn’t in friend mode anymore, he was in dad mode. I jumped from the ledge of the wall and ran to our shack.

He was right. I should just enjoy the time I had as a foal. If I spent all my time growing up, I might miss what I actually had. I’d just end up with work and grownup problems. Even this right here, overthinking what I’d learned today, was a bit too grown up for me. Once whatever was going on outside the wall ended, I’d go find the other foals and play.