Purity Ebonshield

Estellar-- No, for this was the surface of Equestria.

Sergeant First Class Purity Ebonshield struggled to open her tired eyes against the dogged resistance they put up. But the door to the hallway had just clicked open, so she must awaken. A reaction trained over decades, the well-ingrained instinct could not be ignored, even when sleeping in this safest and most guarded of places.

Nearly blinded by the afternoon daylight which streamed in through the open bedroom doors of the Specialists Sparkshower and Glamerspear, Ebonshield saw the gleaming figure of the Corporal Bound stepping into the common area of their quarters. A moment passed before her eyes adjusted to the unexpected brightness, yet still the corporal shimmered and glowed.

Or rather, her armor did.

The corporal sighed and yawned, then glanced to see the batpony lying on the sofa underneath a light blanket. Her gaze passed Ebonshield’s closed bedroom door, from whence muffled speech could be heard.

"Sergeant? Why are you sleeping out here? Who's in there? Is something wrong with your room?"

‘I may as well wake the whole way up.’

Shaking her head, Ebonshield pushed off the cover and sluggishly slid off the sofa to put her hooves down on the ground. "No, nothing is wrong. The Specialists Glamerspear and Sparkshower are merely in there presently."

The corporal raised an eyebrow. "Using your room? For what?"

Bringing a forehoof up to her muzzle as she yawned, Ebonshield stretched her wings. Ay, she felt stiff and cramped from her afternoon siesta -- not to mention the things which she did before. That nap was almost all she had slept in the last twenty-four hours, but she could not go back to sleep yet.

"For the developing of photographs which they have just now taken. This was at my offering."

After considering the situation for a moment, Honour shrugged. "Okay. The Royal Engineer's dismissed me for the day. He said he's still worn out from last night, and won't be taking any visitors or making any trips outside his bedroom."

This was a sentiment the sergeant could certainly understand, multiplied considerably by her late-morning engagement in the Rookery warehouse. But if she was going to be up, she may as well work out the kinks which had built up in her body from the rest somewhat uncomfortable; not to mention the gruelling ceiling work in the Rookery. And since her room was presently occupied, she would make use of the room of the Specialist Sparkshower instead.

But before Sergeant Ebonshield got there, she shot another glance at the Corporal Bound. She was a tidy soldier in general, but despite the signs of tiredness still lying upon her face, her armor today seemed to be an immaculateness especial.

"May I say, Corporal, that your armor shines with a radiance particular at this moment."

A little sluggishly, Honour replied as she took a step towards the sideboard and the communal copper water-jug. "Thanks. I gave it a serious parade-polish earlier; before dismissing me, Anonymous had me deliver a letter to Her Majesty Princess Celestia."

Such a delivery important would certainly explain her appearance.

"Ah, of course! And may I ask the contents of this letter?"

She nodded as she poured herself a cup of water and drank. "It was just him telling Her Majesty about the steam-car, offering a demonstration at Her Majesty's convenience."

Backing up against one edge of the bedroom door frame of the Specialist Sparkshower, Ebonshield extended her forehooves out against the opposite edge, one above the other, and began to work on stretching her shoulders.

"He does this already? I thought we wished to practice a few more times. And I have yet to attempt to command the vehicle."

Honour shrugged, sitting on her haunches and still holding the cup in one forehoof. "I told him that, but he pointed out that with Celestia's busy schedule, it was worth trying to get onto Her Majesty's calendar sooner rather than later. Even asking now, with the Gala around the corner, it could be two weeks before we get a time-slot. That sort of delay will leave us plenty of room to get a few more sessions in."

The batpony nodded in response. "I see."

As she worked on her shoulders and forelegs, Ebonshield glanced inside the bedroom of the pegasus. She and the unicorn had still left quite a mess of clothing and accessories piled up around the floor. And the chambers of the Specialist Glamerspear were no less cluttered, with a trail visible of baubles and trinkets that had been hauled from one bedroom to the other. Clearly they had taken a great many photographs, in a variety of costumes. Surely there will be many of them worthy of...

‘Hmmm, just what does the pegasita plan to do with them?’

Pushing her hooves up higher on the door-frame, Ebonshield pondered this question as she worked on muscles still sore from clutching at stalactites for hours.

Finishing her drink, the corporal walked over to the card-table, put down her cup, then stopped to look the batpony over. "You know, Sergeant, I've been thinking -- about what you said last night, about me taking the lead in combat-training the Royal Engineer."

An inquisitive mixture of relief and strain escaped Ebonshield’s mouth in the form of a grunt, as she closed her eyes and pushed her foreleg-muscles closer to their limit.

"Ah?"

Honour removed her helmet slowly, placing the metal armor piece on the table beside her. "I was thinking, if you want me to do that; if you don't feel comfortable being completely in charge of Anonymous' combat education, maybe it would make sense for me to have a little training from you, first."

Sergeant Ebonshield opened her eyes and halted her exercise.

‘That is a question most unusual.’

"Oh? I am not opposed, but why? Is there some skill which you believe that you lack?"

The corporal sucked in on her lower lip, bobbing her head slightly to the side. "It's like I told you last night -- earth ponies aren't the stars of the show in the Royal Guard. I can never get wings or a horn, but... some of the moves you showed off against those shadow-sand creatures didn't seem to depend upon flight. I was wondering if you had any more of them. Maybe you could teach me a few."

‘She is perceptive indeed, to have noticed so fine a detail.’

No fighting art of the Children could afford to use the wings in every maneuver, or in every attack; they were too important as heat-sinks to risk by attack or exhaustion, and so every repertoire included much fighting with the four legs alone, the wings held out or flapped gently to cool the blood and the body. The management of heat, and by extension the management of exhaustion, was at the root of all such techniques. Even the Temples famous for flight, such as the Swarming Meteors, used this flight only to open the battle. An often decisive opening, to be sure, but after such exertion as required to pounce on their foes, the subsequent attacks were preferably terrestrial, intended to finish off an enemy previously grounded by that first charge -- at least until the body was cool and the way was clear to rise up and charge once more.

Ebonshield nodded her head. "You are correct. There is much about the Shining Stellar Dance which does not require wings, especially for one with the fortitude of your kind."

Sighing, she returned to her exercises. "And I am willing to teach you -- but you must understand, ours is a Temple mystical. Our training is very unlike the Royal Guard from which you come." Stepping forward and up onto her hind hooves, she pressed her belly against the door frame, then began to arch backwards. "Even the other Temples, which have their own rituals and rites, all aspire to master the arts of war. But the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance treats combat as a pathway to the enlightenment spiritual."

Ebonshield’s mane spread out on the carpet as her forehooves touched the ground behind her hind hooves, as she completed the 'upside-down bridge.' Smiling as she stared at the carpet, she slowly lifted her left hind-hoof up into the air.

"Without this enlightenment, there can be no learning."

When her weight was properly shifted onto her forehooves, the right hind-hoof followed the left, and she brought them together to grasp the wall, her tail brushing the edge of the frame. Slowly, the batpony lifted herself up, straddling either side of the opposite edge with her hind hooves, with forehooves free before her. Finally, she reached those forehooves to the top of the opening and seized the top of that portal between them, hanging like a drawn curtain from the upper corner of the frame. After pausing there a moment, she slowly bent all four of her knees, thrusting her barrel out and down as far as possible, and arching her neck and head back until her muzzle touched the door-frame and her mane touched her back. She closed her eyes once more.

Corporal Bound grunted. "If it's the kind of enlightenment that allows you to pull off gymnastics like that, I've done a little of it before, believe it or not."

‘Oh?’

Extending her wings, the flexible batpony let go and snapped her four legs and back into their normal positions, releasing the door-frame and landing softly on the ground. A flick of her neck threw her untamed mane back out of her eyes.

"Indeed? I did not know that the Royal Guard practiced such exercises."

The Corporal Bound shook her head. "They don't. It was something I did myself."

Chuckling dismissively, the earth pony inhaled deeply. "...After my divorce, before I joined the VIP section, I spent a little time experimenting with all sorts of stuff outside of work. My life had fallen apart for a bit, you see. I guess you could say I was trying to find myself again."

Getting down to lie on her back in front of the door frame, Ebonshield prepared for the next exercise -- 'shoulders-form-the-seat-for-the-body.' "May I understand from your tone that you felt none of these experiments succeeded?"

Honour nodded as the batpony spread her forelegs to support her withers and began to push her hind legs and quarters up into the air.

"Yeah. A few of them were spiritual adventures of sorts -- funny stuff with candles and incense and strange poses -- but I struggled to get into the same frame of mind as the teacher, or even the other students. Sitting around meditating wasn't for me, I guess. Other experiences were more energetically physical, if still gymnastic, and I got into them a bit more, though none of them really worked or stuck with me."

By now, Ebonshield’s hind legs were vertical in the air above her, her tail draping down inelegantly on both sides of her torso, with only her forelegs, head, neck, and withers still on the ground.

"In the end, jettisoning my baggage by transferring out of my hometown and into the VIP section was what pulled me together again, not any of those esoteric activities."

The batpony was curious to hear the corporal speaking so candidly about her past, even if she skipped over many of the details.

Still holding the inverted pose, Ebonshield answered her. "Maestro Romà de Balj, founder of my Temple, said this about the journey spiritual: 'Enlightenment is like a mountain with the Great Mother at the top. But this mountain is too tall to climb directly, and she is surrounded by ferocious winds to prevent all flight. The only way up, therefore, is to ponderously spiral around or zig-zag across her. When two Children meet each other as they walk on different paths upwards, each says to the other, 'You fool, you are going the wrong way!'"

Finally allowing herself to relax, the batpony slowly uncurled her back until she was once again lying flat on the ground. "But what matters is not the path exact; only that one is always ascending."

Honour glanced down at her prone figure. "Fair point, I guess."

Ebonshield rolled back onto her hooves and stood up as the earth pony continued.

"That quote, and these poses you're doing, reminds me of a few of the more 'philosophical' things I tried. I suppose memorizing the Maestro's quotes is part of your Temple's training? Parables and gymnastics to start, daggers and assassinations later?"

The batpony whinnied amiably, walking her forehooves forwards while holding her hind hooves in place, slowly prostrating herself towards the wall, performing the 'loyal-dog-bows-to-master' posture. "Generally, yes. The Temples take in children to train, and children are always overeager for the energetic practices physical; the learning of wisdoms and the stretches slow and laborious such as these are a way to temper that eagerness. All of the Star-Temples have the strategies similar in this regard. They are distinguished by the details of their techniques, and by the objective final."

With her forehooves stretched out so far that she now stepped them forwards on their heels instead of the soles, Ebonshield continued. "But you are not a child, Corporal. You have already learned restraint. We can dispense with much of the abstract and metaphysical in favor of concrete exercises, if that is what you wish."

"Sure. And when do the smoke grenades come in?"

Ebonshield chuckled, her barrel almost scraping the ground as her forelegs were nearly horizontal, while her hindquarters was still raised up, with her tail held high in the air. "They come when they are necessary. We are assassins, after all. Often we are required to go into places where we should not be, and we have many little tools such as these to assist us in this work."

Honour narrowed her eyes slightly. "I noticed you didn't use any in your fight against Marcos. Or against Ignacio's sand-shadow puppets."

The batpony shrugged, as much as she was able in her outstretched position. "They are tricks, and I treat them as tricks. Against the Ghosts of Ignacio, I was demonstrating technique, not tricks. And I did not need any tricks to beat Marcos."

Slowly, she began to walk her forehooves back, raising herself up. "But I do carry some of these tools with me. If my initiates had not appeared, I might have used something to help neutralize the rest of the Meteors while I dealt with Marcos, in the hopes that they would be unable to overcome you before I could beat their leader -- and that they would then give up once he was down."

Honour picked up her helmet, fidgeting slightly with it in her forehooves. "You know, things like smoke-bombs or whatever else you might have could be of great use to the Royal Engineer. He's learning to fight for defensive reasons, after all."

That is a concept which had occurred to the sergeant, but one she rejected, owing partially to the secrecy around the Stellar devices, but partially to another reason. Standing herself up properly, she took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders and hips to loosen them up.

"His request was to learn how to fight, not how to be an assassin. Grenades filled with choking gas are for equalizing the odds when one Stellar tries to escape from the bodyguards of a target. In the duel to which the Royal Engineer was challenged, if he should have used one, would that not have been seen as dishonorable?"

The corporal frowned. "Maybe. It's questionable. He is the Royal 'Engineer,' after all. He'd be expected to show some 'ingenuity.' Once we show off this 'Self-Propelled Air Defense' battle wagon of his, anyone going up against him will certainly expect to see him rely on tools to win a fight." Lifting her eyebrows, she tapped the gleaming helmet. "He may even already know how your smoke bombs are made. There's a whole section on chemical explosives in his theory book."

"If that is true, and if they would be useful to him, then why has he not made them himself?"

"Because he doesn't necessarily know the best way to defend himself. And, as you said, you're not sure you do, either. But I think if we make sure to point out all the options, to try to give him the pros and cons, go over scenarios, that sort of stuff, then he's clever enough to figure out the right way in-between."

Defeated by her logic, Ebonshield bowed her head. "That is a fair argument. I regret not having taken this approach."

A clever thought came to mind, and a smile spread on her face as she raised her neck back up again. "Now, if you wish to learn the Stellar Dance, will you not begin by joining me in these exercises? I am curious to see the forms you have been taught."

Honour grimaced slightly. "I'm... a little rusty. I think I can maybe get my forehooves out half as far as you did just now in that last one. I've never clambered around a door-frame like you did, but I used to be pretty good at the on-your-back-hind-hooves-in-the-air pose, though."

Gritting her teeth, she looked around. "It's probably not a great idea to start right now, when I'm still kinda tired, and right here, where there's a bunch of Her Majesty's furniture for me to crash into."

Ebonshield was not entirely convinced that she was refusing. Eagerly, she stepped up towards the corporal, wiping her hooves and setting them on the sofa arm. "Then let us push the furniture away to make more room. I will spot for you, and the carpet will absorb whatever fall I fail to catch."

Honour stared at her, looking a little afraid, so she continued, widening her grin. "Or do you complain that these chambers are too humble? Shall we light candles and burn incense, as you say your other teachers did?"

This joke restored the corporal’s typical dismissive look, though this wasn’t quite as harsh as when either Glamerspear or Sparkshower did something silly.

"Look, no offense; if this is what's involved in learning your techniques, I do want to get into it, and we could even do it here, but with the impromptu libo tonight I was hoping to take a shower and then step out for a bit."

The sergeant raised both eyebrows. "Ah? To see again this Sargento Castlerook, perhaps?"

Honour didn’t answer, so the batpony proceeded with the finishing touch, rolling her shoulders seductively. "...May I point out that these exercises have the applications in the bedroom as well?"

Honour snorted, nodding her head with a small smirk. "Yeah, I know. That's why I got into them; I was--"

Halting to furrow her brow, the smirk disappeared and she waves a forehoof dismissively, turning to go. "...Ah, never mind. You go ahead with your exercises, Ebonshield. If I start spilling my history, we could be here all night."

Ebonshield placed a hoof on her chest. "I have no engagements -- No meeting with my Gilbertito tonight. I am still too tired from something which I had to do last night, in the Rookery."

Stopping in her tracks, Honour’s face suddenly went stern. "Nothing to do with your family, I hope?"

The batpony shook her head. "No. Elsewhere, with my initiates. And your history with the gymnastics?"

Swallowing, the corporal inhaled deeply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. "Well... When it was clear that my marriage was over, even before the paperwork was all finished, everypony was telling me to hit the 'scene' again -- the dating scene, I mean. Catch myself another colt ASAP..."

Flattening her ears, she shook her head. "...The thing is, I didn't feel like much of a catch myself. I never really had, and the Royal Guard isn't exactly known for producing fantastic pony specimens. Fit ponies, sure, but they treat us Earth Ponies as pack-mules. The kind of figure you need to haul fifty kilos for fifteen klicks is a healthy one, but it's not exactly graceful. Nopony's going to put a soldier on the cover of Cosmoponitan."

Shrugging, she continued. "That's part of the reason I got into all these weird gymnastic things. I was trying to tone myself up, make it so I wasn't just some draft mare with a strong back and nothing else going for me. I had visions of tearing up the dance floor, or even..."

Lowering her voice, a rosiness crept into her cheeks. "...Or even somehow tantric-ing myself a real stud. My ex had been considered one, after all. Part of me felt like partner number two ought to live up to the same standard set by the first."

An interesting proposal, but her last statement aroused Ebonshield’s curiosity. She hoped only that she was not treading on ground which was too delicate.

"How did you meet your husband? Was this before you joined the military?"

Honour sighed, but the sound was almost a grumble. "It was after I enlisted. I met him at a bar near the base."

Bringing one forehoof up, she brushed her muzzle in reflection. "He was stunningly attractive, socially outgoing in a way I never could be, and friendly with everypony he met. And I was lonesome, and growing tired of bunking with a bunch of drunk mares in the barracks. We had fun together. I don't think we dated for more than two months before getting hitched. At the time, I thought I was the luckiest mare in the world."

She shrugged her eyebrows, licking her lips. "That was an impression he made sure to fuel. At first, he pretended like he was the only one who saw through all the boring brown outside to something beautiful inside. After we got married, that romantic facade started to drop away, replaced with more abusive 'reminders.' Saying things like I'd never get it better than him."

Honour puts on a sneering grimace. "I think all he really saw in me was just the easiest mark in the world. Take my salary and do whatever he wanted with whatever mare he pleased when we're out on maneuvers or off on a deployment. I wouldn't be surprised if he was hoping we'd bang out a few kids together so I'd be hooked to him for life."

Grumbling, she shook her head. "That whole experience taught me something, Sergeant. I learned then that 'luck' is nothing more than another name for the feeling you get when you realize things are too good to be true -- and that's usually because they aren't."

Inhaling, she lifted her head up, stretching her neck. "...Sorry. I went off on a tangent there, I guess."

Ebonshield shook her head. "No, no, this is all right. I can understand very much how after such an experience you would wish to explore other opportunities. And..."

She hesitated; Honour had told of her history, yes -- but would the present day be more painful? And yet this might affect her presence of mind when the training begins. There were good reasons for starting the training with children, before the scars of adulthood.

"...And this philosophy of the luck, you still hold to her presently?"

Honour nodded. "Yeah, for better or for worse."

Blanking her face, Ebonshield tried to make clear that she did not ask the next question to ridicule her.

"Is this why you have yet to invite this colt with the voice which speaks passion tempered by wisdom, the Sergeant Castlerook, into your room? Even after he has almost carried you back here, on account of the alcohol?"

The face of the Corporal Bound hardened, but she couldn’t maintain her visage stern against the sergeant’s gaze impassive.

A little red crept into her cheeks. "That's... That thing has its own set of problems."

"Such as?"

The sternness reappeared, so Ebonshield softened her expression. "...I ask because the journey spiritual such as is involved in learning the Shining Stellar Dance is not to be undertaken lightly. These endeavors can be stressful. If you are stressed already in other parts of your life, your days will be more stressful still. I would be concerned for your health."

That explanation, which was truthful, seemed to mollify her.

Honour paused to collect herself, then answered. "It's... It's a combination of factors, there. I guess the luck thing is one of them, but the bigger one is that Castlerook has made it clear he wants to go back to live in Fillydelphia. I don't blame him; it can be a nice enough town, and my mom's there, and so is his family, and all his friends... and all my old friends, too. He said he wants to bring me back with him. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to give that burb another chance. I don't know if I ever will be."

She lowered her muzzle slightly, her eyelids drooping down along with her gaze. "And as for your specific question -- He hasn't asked to be let in; he knows what I went through too well to do that, I think. Part of me wishes he would ask, like it'd give me an excuse to say 'yes.' But because of my other hang-ups, and because I don't want to lead him false and maybe lose him as a friend, I haven't offered, either." Honour sighed again. "Not that I haven't thought about doing it. Or even planned to do it. I just always seem to lose my nerve at the end."

Ebonshield nodded considerately, but the corporal just looked away and put one forehoof in her mouth to nibble nervously upon. Then she swallowed, returning to a seated pose.

"... Sorry to dump my problems on you, Eb."

The batpony shrugged amiably. "There is no trouble, Honour."

The earth pony nodded, sighing once more. "It's, uhm... It's kinda nice to talk to somepony about this. It's sort of been building up in me a bit." The Corporal inhaled deeply, then puffed up her cheeks as she exhaled. "...Thinking about tonight has got me all tense again, and this after I was feeling pretty relaxed about things after that massage in the Rookery's 'Well of Life.'"

‘Of course they were taken there; this was only natural for Carmen to do so.’

"Did Carmen massage you herself?"

Honour chuckled and shook her head. "Her? Me? No way; she thought I was just Anonymous' consort. He got the personal treatment from the Reverend Mother Superior. I got hoofed by 'Sister Lucretia.’" She licked her lips. "...Not that I'm complaining; it was incredible. I wouldn't have signed up for it myself, but you won't hear me say 'no' if they invite me in for a second go."

Ebonshield shrugged. "Nopony would. That is the whole point of the Vestibule of Priests: a place where desires are satisfied, and some Children would do anything, even kill, if thus allowed to enter once more."

"I figured. I'm pretty sure I heard a colt having his 'desires' satisfied around the corner as they led us in." She raised an eyebrow. "They really make deals like that in there? Murder this pony for us, and we'll let you in for another go around the nubile young 'Reverend Brothers and Sisters'?"

Ebonshield took a deep breath. "Yes, but usually not to extract such violence. For this kind of work, there are the Stellars. But in each Rookery, all sorts of deals are brokered in front of and behind that curtain of water. Including the ones involving my Temple."

Honour narrowed her eyes. "The Lunars are your brokers? Why? Why not take contracts all by yourselves?"

Ebonshield lifted her eyebrows, sucking on her lips so that they smacked when she opened her mouth. "This is the deal that Maestro Roma de Balj struck with the Lunars, when the phases were first arranged. We would be ranked among the Stars, and allowed our 'little' heresies, and sanctioned to practice our disreputable profession, but only if a Lunar was present at each deal. This was their way of ensuring that no darker-phase Child would dare employ us to strike down the priests, who in their structure must be held inviolate." She grinned. "Of course, that did not prevent the Lunars of one House from paying us to attack those of another. But this was a pact made before the rise of the Great Houses themselves."

Honour nodded. "Of course."

Suddenly aware of the mess behind the batpony, the corporal tilted her head slightly to peer around Ebonshield’s head and into the two open doors. "Just what kind of photos were those two idiots taking? It looks like they've trashed both their rooms. I hope for our sake nopony drops in to conduct a surprise inspection."

The sergeant struggled to find an acceptable answer, when the door to her bedroom opened and the Specialist Glamerspear stepped out, a dimming red orb glowing above her head.

As the Specialist Sparkshower followed around her, she stopped to rub her eyes. "Whew! It's nice to be back in daylight again. Any more red light and I think I'd go blind -- or get hairy hooves."

The pegasus turned to her unicorn comrade. "Sorry. I guess maybe we shouldn't have developed them all in one go--"

She suddenly noticed the sergeant and the corporal in the far corner. "...Oh, Corporal! You're back early. And Sergeant, sorry -- we're all done with your room. I've opened the window to air it out; I just have to put away my supplies and the film. Did you want me to clean that up right now?"

Turning to face her, Ebonshield shook her head. "No, I have no need for my room at present. Shall we have dinner first?"

The pegasus was visibly excited by her proposal. "Oh, sure, Sergeant! Absolutely!"

Behind the batpony, the Corporal Bound narrowed her eyes. "Just what have you two been up to all afternoon?"

Glamerspear had turned off her light magical, yet still the cheeks of Sparkshower showed red. "Uhm. Just some photos, Corporal... Personal photos."

"How personal are we talking here?"

Honour looked over at Glamerspear, and the unicorn shook her head and shrugged dismissively. "Nothing we could get in trouble for." Then a mischievous smile appeared. "Except maybe that last roll, eh, Sparks?"

The eyes of Specialist Sparkshower were as wide as the sun, and her cheeks as red as the ring of an eclipse.

Glamerspear elbowed the silent pegasus. "C'mon, centerfold. Why don'tcha bring out a few strips and that loupe. You wanted my opinion on every shot, why not get a second or third, hot off the presses?"

The unicorn nodded in Ebonshield’s direction, and the Specialist Sparkshower looked over at her. The batpony smiled, trying to hide her eagerness at the prospect of seeing their results.

"If you wish me to give my opinion, I will do so gladly -- and you may trust that I will keep shut my muzzle to anypony else."

Attention fell on the Corporal Bound, who paused for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "All right, sure, yeah. I'll take a look at your 'reading material' if you want me to, and I won't tell anypony either."

With some little trepidation, the Specialist Sparkshower re-entered the sergeant’s room, rummaged around, and soon emerged with several small strips of film and a magnifying loupe, all of which she placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Okay. Uhm. Here's... Here's the strips with most of the best shots, at least I think so -- and Lily thinks so too. They're just negatives, so the light and dark parts are reversed. I wasn't ready to print anything yet."

With a wave of her forehoof, Ebonshield indicated for the corporal to go first. Cameras were an Equestrian invention, and she wished to see how these 'negatives' were used first.

The Corporal Bound sat on the sofa, holding with one forehoof the loupe against one eye with the other eye closed, and the other forehoof holding the strip. In front of her, the Specialist Glamerspear had made appear a very bright white ball of light, into which Honour stared with the loupe and strip of film.

"Interesting..."

She slid the strip along, stopping at the next photograph.

"...I see..."

Again, the next image.

"...Huh..."

And the final one of the four.

"...Okay."

These words inconclusive did not suffice for the Specialist Sparkshower.

"What do you think, Corporal?"

Honour Bound cleared her throat. "It's a little hard to follow in the negatives, but I see what you were going for."

With the loupe now retained against her eye, she lowered her hooves in order to trade the first strip of film for another. "You know, you've got a pretty toned plot, when it isn't all encased in armor."

"You really think so?! Oh, gosh! I'm so relieved..."

At that moment somepony knocked at the door. And once again, the eyes of the Specialist Sparkshower went wide and her cheeks burned with red fire, her forehooves shaking excitedly in the air.

"HurricanesThunderstormsAndTornadoes! HideThemHideThemHideThemHideThem!"

Once the photos were hastily gathered up and then tucked unceremoniously underneath the stack of the magazines, the Specialist Glamerspear went to answer the door. To the surprise of all of them, their guest was none other than the Engineer Royal, who stood on the other side wearing his dress shirt, vest, trousers, and shoes, but not his jacket.

Only the Corporal Bound, with the loupe mistakenly still pressed into her eye, overcame the confusion to answer him.

"Sir?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I know I previously dismissed you for the day. And I know I'm not really supposed to be up on the servants' floor..."

Then he held up a cream-colored scroll, the red ribbon already undone and golden seal already broken. "...But this appeared moments ago in a puff of smoke on my dining table."

He looked at each of them, and swallowed deeply, appearing somewhat disturbed. "...It's from Princess Celestia. She wants us to do the demonstration for her tomorrow morning."

‘Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!’

‘No siesta for the weary…’

Suggested interlude music: BenDan Productions - 'Battlefield Theme Acoustic Cover (Mariachi Style)', original composed by Joel Eriksson)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbC5mUU_z8s

115 chapters! How about that? It's been a long journey getting this far, and I'm very grateful to have such a wonderful audience!

We're starting to get close to the end of the existing, written content for the story. To stave off the drop-off, we'll be moving to an every-third-day schedule. Sorry for applying the brakes some more, but I'd hate to cut everyone off abruptly. Chapter 116 will follow on Tuesday. Stick around!