Purity Ebonshield

---

Huff, puff, huff

'This is -- quite -- a workout!'

The Royal Engineer had spent all of the evening, both before and after the supper, working at his desk. Only when the sky was black and the Moon shone down upon Equestria did he get up and announce that it was time for the physical exercise.

So there First Sergeant Purity Ebonshield was, 'jogging' alongside the Great Lord, having deliberately decided to run rather than fly. With his tall stature giving him a great stride, and his hairless body allowing him great endurance, keeping up with her VIP was quite a challenge.

As he strode confidently onwards, sweating profusely, she was reminded of the early days of her tutelage under the Master of the Shining Stellar Dance, Draxon. She remembered quickly becoming tired galloping alongside him as well.

---

'¡Maestro!', she protested. 'Why do you make me run on my hooves so?'

The old Master simply looked back at the young batpony, the whiskers of his mustache swaying with each step he took.

'Student, how else wilt thou chase down thy prey, thou who wouldst dance among the shining stars?'

Huffing and puffing, Ebonshield struggled to hustle up beside him, kicking up grey moondust behind her.

'Master, why with the wings that the Mother-of-Stars has, in her wisdom, given us.'

Draxon chuckled as he leaped effortlessly over a small crater.

'Ha! But has the Mother not given us hooves as well? Dost thou propose to ignore these gifts?'

She had needed to go around that same crater, believing herself unable to make the jump without flapping her wings and earning the ire of her Master. For he had decreed that she may hold her wings during the exercise as she pleased, provided that you did not at any point use them to propel herself.

And she was certain he would notice even the slightest flutter.

'No, Master! But, having been blessed with these wings, shall we not find better uses for our hooves instead than treading dust?'

The supreme Master of her school nickered.

'¡Pnnggh-h-h-h-h! Thou wouldst do well to stay thy tongue and keep thy mind to the task before thee...'

Once again launching himself across a deep crater that she was forced to circle around, he shouted at her from above.

'But, I can see that thy questions are as numerous as the stars above. So I will speak only this wisdom:'

Landing on his hooves far ahead of her, he looked back over his shoulder and spoke, still coursing ahead.

'When a Dancer fights, he does so without the shackles of rules and restrictions. Therefore, those who aspire to join the Stars high above had best prepare themselves down to the very bottom of their soles!'

And with that, he had found some new reserve of strength and galloped off, leaving her choking upon his dust.

This had not seemed very enlightening at the time, but later, when she finally caught up with him, sitting calmly atop a small mesa, he invited her to sit. Master Draxon then proceeded to critique every aspect of her running technique:

Trying to lengthen her gait instead of keeping to her natural stride;

Throwing her hooves against the ground in advance of her knees, over-stretching herself;

Keeping her wings held too tightly against her flanks, preventing them from serving to cool her body;

Allowing her head to bob, as if that would propel her forward instead of wasting energy and motion;

And, the worst sin of all, trying to carry on a conversation instead of focusing on the race.

---

Just then, the Royal Engineer interrupted her reminiscence.

"I've been thinking, Sergeant."

"Yes, Great Lord?"

Her human VIP swallowed in between hurried breaths. "About the combat training. I was wondering if we're going about it the right way."

"If the Great Lord has concerns, his humble servant will gladly hear them."

The two of them quickly hustled around a corner, keeping the main hedge on her left as she used the rose-garden of the Princess of the Sun for a purpose most unintended.

"Well..."

He gulped, then coughed as some spittle went down the wrong way. It was as if the spirit of Draxon was there, punishing her Great Lord for speaking during a run, just as he would switch her with his stick when she disobeyed him. And what did her ephemeral Master have in store for herself for indulging her VIP, hmm?

"Sorry. I meant to say, I *huff* was wondering if we should go straight into fighting with weapons and armor. Shouldn't we start with, like, more basic exercises first?"

Now, this was a sentiment most curious.

When Ebonshield was but an initiate under the Master and his senior estelares, how she thirsted to be allowed the thrill of the true battle, instead of the seemingly pointless exercises and rote individual forms demanded of her instead. Of course, these things had not been pointless at all, serving as the foundation of what was to come later, but that truth was beyond her understanding when she was first initiated. Yet here was her VIP, to whom she had proposed to teach combat in the fullest, and before they had even begun, he expressed the concern that perhaps they were already moving too quickly.

Was he possessed of some wisdom unseen? Ebonshield decided to check. "If the Great Lord would prefer this, this may certainly be arranged."

Grunting as he hustled, step by step, up the long staircase to the terraced central of the rose-garden, the two legs of the Royal Engineer had to work twice as hard as her four. Despite this, he was still close on her heels when she reached the top first.

"I'm not saying I'd necessarily prefer it, Sergeant. I'm just throwing it out there that I'm not desperate to get straight to spears and blades.”

Pausing for a moment, he nodded his head to the right, and they both took off in that direction.

“If I'm going to learn to fight, and I mean to really fight, I'd like to do it properly. So I don't want you to take any shortcuts on my account, even if it means leaving my armor off and doing some boring stuff first."

‘Fascinating!’

How overjoyed her master would have been to receive such a student whose head was already so populated with the wisdom. But then, she also considered that her VIP was a decade or more older than the vast majority of those who appeared at the steps of any of the Temples of the Stars. Still, she could recall a few who entered the School of the Shining Stellar Dance with the knowledge that naturally comes with age, yet without the wisdom or the patience. And a few of them were already trained warriors, having departed another school to learn instead the Dance.

"Of course, Great Lord. Please rest assured that your humble servant shall not allow the appearance of vanity to get in the way of proper training."

As she pondered the source of this apparent wisdom, a thought entered her head.

"But, may I ask, has the Great Lord previously received any kind training in combat?"

A curious smile appeared on the face of the Engineer Royal. "Not unless you count a summer weakly punching air for half-an-hour once a week, as a chubby pre-adolescent, at Master Mike's Midtown Mixed Martial Arts..."

'Master Mike'?

Before Ebonshield could inquire further, he laughed.

“And you shouldn't. So, no, I haven't."

‘Curious.’

"Then may I ask, how do the people of the Great Lord train to fight, to 'really fight'?"

The smile disappeared. "My people don't fight with swords and shields, Sergeant -- not any more, not unless it's for sport. For modern soldiers, physical training is still important, like being able to jog, run, and crawl, all while carrying a heavy load on their backs. And they do a little training in hand-to-hand combat, though it's mostly to build aggressiveness and determination."

Exiting the rose-garden, they both continued to jog back towards the palace.

"My people fight with tools, Sergeant; tools so complex they can take tens of thousands of people hundreds upon hundreds of hours to build. But with these tools, a mere flick of a finger can kill an enemy a mile away -- or worse."

The Great Lord's people were powerful indeed.

There was, however, something about the tone her VIP was using -- it was not just merely exhaustion from running around in the garden. It was a certain seriousness mixed with a kind of sadness. And she felt also as if he was holding something back.

Before she finished processing his statement, the Royal Engineer bounded ahead of her, hustling up to the patio behind his chambers, then coming to a stop.

Doubling over forwards, he placed his hands on his knees, taking several deep breaths. Ebonshield arrived shortly after him, panting as well, with her wings softly beating to clear the heat. There was much humidity in the air tonight, for a mid-spring day, and the sky to the west was beginning to cloud over.

Perhaps the rain could instead wait for tomorrow night?

Alas.

So long as tonight was clear, she would hopefully have success at the clubs once again. Perhaps even see the same colt as this morning! He’d said he would be there. And what a delightful young stud he was...

Ebonshield’s VIP slowly stood up again, exhausted and drenched with sweat, then walked over to the small cocktail-table where he had placed the water jug and two of the glasses from his room. Filling both, he took a deep drink from one even as he handed one to her.

She sat down and refreshed herself, looking up at her VIP. There was something quite attractive about a sweaty colt, panting and tired. She could just imagine gliding back and forth across his slick, steaming-hot body...

‘Hmmm…’

Yes, she definitely must strive to find some companionship tonight. It was not good to leave the appetites unsated.

"When the Great Lord spoke of 'boring stuff,' was there some thing in particular which he had in mind?"

The Royal Engineer sighed and shrugged as she took another sip. "I dunno. Physical exercises in general, I suppose. I guess sparring is out since pony hooves are much stronger than human fists. What about grappling? Do ponies wrestle?"

She lowered the glass. "Ponies do wrestle, Great Lord. However, I should point out that the Great Lord has a significant advantage in such an activity, owing both to his hands and to his greater size, stature, and reach. I think he would quickly find it all too easy to seize a pony opponent and wrestle them into submission."

Ebonshield’s VIP looked at her quizzically. "Isn't that a point in favor of it, then? Shouldn't you teach me to wrestle, first?"

Oh, and how she dearly would like to teach him to wrestle! Just a different kind of wrestling; one not so useful on the battlefield.

"I beg the forgiveness of the Great Lord, but I must point out that any pony trained in combat will be certain to strive most strenuously to keep out of the grasp of any enemy possessed of the hands or the claws. We know that such enemies are most dangerous when they can take hold of us. I do not therefore think grappling will serve in any way as a means to fight in itself."

After flapping her wings to dissipate the unbearable heat build-up at her flanks, she continued.

"Since the Great Lord appears to be in a shape most excellent already, and has expressed a desire to remain an engineer first and foremost, I believe that it may be possible to proceed straightaway with the conducting of the training in his armor and with his weapons."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "All right. And I appreciate the compliment."

With a deep, final breath as he fully recovered from the fast pace of the exercise, he looked up at the stars.

"By the way, Sergeant, where are we going to conduct the training? Are we just going to use the palace's grass fields outdoors? Because we should probably get permission from Her Royal Majesty's landscapers beforehand."

Ebonshield smiled. "We shall not be necessary to disturb the gardeners of the palace, Great Lord. While the Specialist Sparkshower was finding for the Great Lord a blacksmith able to provide him with armaments, his sergeant did secure for him a suitable training ground."

"Oh, good. Where?"

Putting down the glass, she bowed. "If the Great Lord agrees, we shall train in the Grand Hall of Stars, in the Night Guard rookery, underneath Canterlot Mountain."

The Royal Engineer's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"A batpony training ground? Hmm..."

As he took another sip of water, she wondered if he was perhaps not so accepting of her kind as he had previously let on. This would be strange since, as the Mother-of-Stars pointed out, he had not been raised with any sort of prejudice...

“I suppose it might be a good idea if you instructed me in your people's ways first. I don't want to make any gaffes in etiquette while we're there."

‘Ah, clever!’

She bowed again. "The Great Lord is most considerate; certainly his manners are already impeccable, but his humble servant shall certainly make such instructions as are necessary."

Lifting her head, Ebonshield looked him in the eyes. “However, as I have planned for us to use these facilities during the day, when the Night Guard normally rests, we shall not likely have many encounters with the other Children. Beyond, of course, the servants and attendants of the Grand Hall itself."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "Alright... Although, with a name like 'Grand Hall of Stars,' you have me expecting a pretty formal atmosphere, Sergeant. And Her Royal Majesty did effectively ask me to try to help bridge the gap between your kind and the rest of Equestria. I'm not averse to some lessons beforehand."

‘Hrm.’

Despite his casual wording, her VIP was insistent on this point. How much should she tell him? This was, after all, an awkward subject.

She had known how Equestrian society functioned, and in the past five days, had the opportunities many to see things first-hoof as well. And it was known to her that the native society of the Royal Engineer functioned in a way far more similar to that of Equestria than to that of the Moon.

Would he understand what she told him?

Would he become upset?

If she had grown up in Equestrian society, she certainly believed that this would upset her. But then again, Anonymous had displayed a certain kind of patient wisdom. And since she was all but forbidden to lie to him, the question was really only how much to try to hide.

Just then, a cloud passed in front of the moon, and the grey patio stones grew dark. As her eyes opened wide, banishing the shadows that would cloud any other kind of pony's sight, Ebonshield regarded her Engineer Royal.

Despite lacking the iridescent eyes of a batpony, he still looked calmly back at her with wide retinas, as if able to see just as well in the gloom as she could. And, most importantly, completely unafraid of the encroaching shadows.

---

Suggested background musicMark Morgan & Richard Band - 'Bones of the Night', from 'Planescape: Torment' [1999]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWkEKhK2CXs

---

"Such lessons have not, to my knowledge, ever been given, but since the Great Lord asks, I shall try."

She took a deep breath and tried to find somewhere to begin.

"The first thing that the Great Lord should know is that from the moment we enter the rookery, he shall be a Great Lord no longer."

The Royal Engineer raised an eyebrow, and she carried on. “You are not a warrior, Great Lord, and neither can you claim to be a Priest. Therefore you are beneath both, so, unless you wish to issue a challenge, you must yield completely and utterly to anyone of such ranks."

She did not have to wait long for the inevitable rebuttal.

"My title was given to me by both Princesses. Doesn't that mean something?"

Licking her lips, she continued. "That means a little, yes. Being so recognized, you shall at least not be treated as an outsider, a Shadow. And some of the Children may see you as more than what you appear to be. They may choose to show you respect, but this is not required. Therefore, you must prepare to be disrespected. Although I am sworn to defend you, under the mountain, I shall outrank you. If you see me yield to another pony, you must yield as well. And you should not speak unless I invite you to do so."

"What about the other members of my quaternion? Are they outsiders, too?"

‘Ah! He catches on quickly; very perceptive.’

"They are my comrades-in-arms, my battle-siblings. Therefore they are not Shadows, either, but are Stars as I am."

The Royal Engineer bent over and put his glass down on the low wall that enclosed the patio, then wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead.

"'Shadows' are outsiders, 'Stars' are warriors... These sound like social classes, or even castes, and you mentioned 'priests' distinctly as well. What class do I fall into, if I'm not a Shadow?"

Ebonshield blinked. Her VIP was far more understanding than she’d thought. Perhaps his world was not so homogeneous in its societies. Or, perhaps his people once behaved as her kind still do.

At this point, this would be easiest to tell him everything.

She took a breath and cleared her throat. "As the Moon has five shapes, so there are five ranks among the Children, Great Lord..."

Understanding implicitly that she had more than just a few things to say, the Royal Engineer stepped over to the wall and turned around to sit down, still listening attentively.

"...When the moon is dark, the Shadows cover the land. Those who dwell in the darkness are outcasts, and count among their number outsiders, exiles, those whose work is foul and impure... and, at the very bottom of this darkest pit, anyone not of the Children."

Before she could continue on, her VIP whispered a word.

"Untouchables."

Forgetting her place in Equestria, Ebonshield nodded, rather than bowed. "Yes, Great Lord. A succinct description."

"Go on."

"The slim crescent moon belongs to those who work her thin soil, and so they are called the Dust. They are farmers, miners, laborers, and the failures unworthy of being banished quite so far as the Shadows."

The Royal Engineer nodded silently, and Ebonshield continued.

“A half moon is something greater, as when the moon-dust is collected into something greater, into the Rock. These are those who work with skill; artisans and artists, tradesponies, smiths, tailors, and others."

The clouds blacking out the moon finally passed by, and the white semi-circle shone down upon them both.

"When the moon is stronger still, gibbous and great, she shines in harmonious accordance with the Stars, and calls warriors to her banner. I count myself among their number."

"These classes -- sorry to interrupt again -- are they assigned at birth?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "No, Great Lord. We do not have the concept of 'noble birth' as here in Equestria. A Child's place in society is determined by his profession, and he may change this by his actions or have change forced by circumstance."

"But where does he start?"

Drawing a deep breath, she glanced up respectfully at the almost-full moon.

"He starts where he is taken; when the time is nigh to leave the guardería, the nursery-crèche, the different classes of his House will bid for him, making him different offers and promises based on his apparent value to them. He may accept whichever bid he pleases."

"Houses? This is more involved than just class, isn't it?"

Of course he immediately picked up on that; perhaps she should have left this out.

‘Oh, well.’

She remembered to actually bow this time.

"Yes, Great Lord. But as the distinctions of House are moot outside of the Moon, we need not discuss them at this time. All of the Children who are here in the Rookery have sworn to serve the Mother-of-Stars without regard for their House."

"I see."

Clearing her throat, she completed the lesson. "The final phase is when the moon is full and brightest, and in this brief moment she outshines the Stars and truly takes the center stage in the night. As the League of Stars supported the Mother-of-Stars, so the Lunars are her priests among the Children, and they serve as the guardians of the next generation, as well as the ambassadors and messengers between the Houses of the moon."

The Engineer Royal nodded.

"Shadow, Dust, Rock, Star, and Lunar. And where do I fall?"

Ebonshield inhaled sharply.

"As the Great Lord is an engineer, a worker of fine things, he should number among the Rocks. But if you learn to fight as a warrior should, you may be counted among the Stars. And, because of your endorsement by the Mother-of-Stars, particularly as a kind of ambassador to the Children as a whole, this is also possible that you may be a Lunar..."

She licked her lips. “However, such acknowledgements are normally made by the members of a House. Since the Great Lord is not formally a member, this complicates matters."

"But you belong to one, don't you?"

Ebonshield bowed.

"Sí. And, if the Great Lord wishes, I would gladly endorse him as a Star when I feel this would be appropriate. This would, however, have certain implications that we may discuss at a later date."

There was another option for his class as well, but best not to overwhelm her charge with too much information at once. In any case, despite the obvious similarities he bore to them, this was unlikely that they would welcome him among their number.

The Royal Engineer sighed. "I think I'm getting the idea. A strict hierarchy of social classes, but fairly fluid movement between them. And I'll need to bow and yield to soldiers and priests."

Ebonshield gathered up the two empty glasses and flew over to the water-jug to fill them both back up.

"Neither of which we are likely to encounter during the training, Great Lord. But, yes, you must do this. And you must do likewise with other members of the Rock caste, since, without any specific acknowledgement among their number, you must count yourself as the lowest apprentice."

Her VIP laughed as she hoofed him his glass. "Hah, of course! Well, it's all right. I don't mind kowtowing to bigwigs if that's what's needed to get my work done. I did it when I first arrived here, too -- and I'm still a little uncomfortable with the social promotion I received as a result. I still apply what Chancellor Strings calls an 'oversupply of humility.'"

Ebonshield bowed. "A most practical attitude, Great Lord."

Another shadow passed over the patio as another cloud -- bigger, and puffier this time -- moved in and obscured the moon, covering the whole sky.

‘Yes, there will be rain tomorrow.’

A breeze came sweeping in across the gardens, rustling the trees and shrubs that were just reaching the peak of their efflorescences.

The Royal Engineer took a sip and looked over the grounds. "Looks like we're due for some rain. You might as well call it a night now, Sergeant. I'm going to take a shower and turn in."

She bowed. "Gracias, Great Lord, many thanks. But I will remain at my post until the shift is formally ended."

Corporal Bound had asked that they all not give in to his requests for early dismissal -- at least not for a little while, lest he accidentally make a mistake.

"Sure. Come on, let's get inside before the heavens open up."

'Heavens open up.'

What a curious turn of phrase.

And yet, how appropriate.

With an unusual new sense of appreciation for the wisdom and intelligence of her VIP, Ebonshield entered his chambers behind him, shutting and latching the glass door behind his desk as he trundled off to the washroom.

She was in need of a shower herself, to be sure, but she could wait another hour or two until midnight.

Perhaps the Royal Engineer would have more questions once he emerged from his bath. At the very least, this would give her time to consider what else she should tell him.

As Ebonshield settled in at her post in front of the main doors, she was reminded of something Master Draxon always liked to say.

'A Dancer must not settle into one form; he must adapt and build his own, and let this grow. He must become like water.'

Surely, if she was the first batpony to walk openly in the streets of Canterlot, she was considerably liquid already. However, lubricating the graceful entrance of her VIP into batpony society...

Now, this was a task requiring a fluidity most supreme.

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