Thirty Minute Pony Stories

The morning seemed rise slowly. As Shining Armor lifted his head towards the window, he let himself stare straight into the arcing curve that pushed through the mountains. The Sun was still dim, orange, as if waking from a restful slumber.

It’s still early. I can take my time.

With a slow lifting of his body, he slid out of bed. His legs were sluggish, causing himself to lean forward for an extra push of momentum to begin walking. His steps were hulking and forceful.

He stopped as he approached a cupboard. He pulled the doors open, revealing a suit of armor on a wooden display. It was a purple-hued cuirass, outlined in gold paint. His helmet matched, an open-faced headgear with a slot for his horn.

He pried the cuirass open with magic and let it cover his chest. The plates of armor fit his underbelly and back neatly, as they always have. The cloth straps that held them together tied themselves as they glowed a faint purple.

He took the helmet in his hooves and checked for any blemishes. A guardstallion with a dirty helmet was a lazy guardstallion. Dust was pushed away by a heavy breath and a forceful rubbing. The plates of purple steel shined like the morning Sun.

Shining Armor shook his head to move his hair to one side and put on his helmet. He used his hooves to tie the leather straps along the neckline. Shining Armor never liked using his magic to tie his helmet, as there was something that reminded him of his uncle as he tied the straps into a knot.

He stepped away from the cupboard and walked in front a mirror hidden behind the cupboard’s door. He inspected his cuirass for any scratches or untied harnesses and made sure his helmet was positioned squarely on his head.

Glancing back at the cupboard, he noticed a hauberk and lance rest were still on the display. A sheathed saber and a thin lance rested on one corner as well.

Today’s not a sparring day, right? I can leave them.

Shining Armor glanced back at the mirror. He spied a square, dog-eared photograph in between the mirror and the wood of the door. He plucked the photograph and took a closer look at the winged unicorn that smiled warmly at him. Shining Armor winked at the picture and slipped back into the slot. He took a deep breath which puffed his chest and straightened his posture. He nodded at his reflection.

He closed the cupboard and walked out of his bedroom. He hurried to his station; the guards needed changing, and the night guards don’t like waiting.

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Bookman’s Comments

A nice introspective piece. I was drawn in by Shining Armor’s intriguing thoughts and routine. It was very interesting to see his routine. Nice work!