Iponi's World

by Palm Palette

Iponi's Word

The day before she walked out to the hill, Simangele awoke to the sound of an equine groaning in frustration. It was her. She snorted. No matter how many times she heard herself, she just couldn't get used to horse noises.

Kicking off the grungy towel she'd been using as a blanket, she rolled off the schoolhouse's battered, stinky couch and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The fuzziness of her fetlocks didn't bother her as much as it used to, but she still hated her lack of hands. Her peachy hooves were more dexterous than they looked, but they were still useless lumps compared to actual fingers. It was like trying to manipulate things with only her wrists. It was awful.

Everything was awful.

How long had it been since that terrible day Iponi had brought her curse down upon the world? Two, three, four weeks? Most of her time had been spent living in a feverish haze, and the days and nights blurred together. She'd lost track of the passage of time. Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered.

She smacked her pony lips and ran her tongue around her mouth. It all felt so different. What had she done to deserve this? Some urges were still the same, though. She wandered into the bathroom to use the facilities. She swatted the light switch with a hoof and the room brightened. At least the electricity hadn't gone out, though she wondered how long that would last.

A peach colored pony with curly, sky blue hair streaked with navy blue accents stood before her. Its big, glossy eyes were half-wet with tears and it was sad with droopy ears and a big frown. That fuzzy face didn't look nearly as cute when it was the one staring back at her in the mirror.

What was the point? What was the point of everything? She lingered there, hot breath fogging up the mirror. Since this whole thing began, she had locked and boarded herself up in the schoolhouse. Windows were barred and shuttered. She had hoped that she was the only one to get sick, but that hope had long since died.

Nobody had once knocked on the door.

Simangele debated turning on the radio. She had a ham license, but why bother? All she could do was neigh into the device, and all she got back were confused neighs in response. English, Zulu, Afrikaans... What did it matter how many languages she knew when she couldn't pronounce a single word from any of them? Well, that wasn't quite true. She puckered up her lips and blew, “P-p-neigh.”

It was the only word she knew. It was the word that had been taught to her by Iponi herself. Iponi...

Simangele had plenty of time to ponder, and still, she had no answers. The only thing she was certain of was that Iponi had to be a god. Why had she come? Why here, specifically? What was her plan? Did she hate humans? She didn't seem to. Why did she look so young? Why did she bring the disease down upon herself as well? Why did she leave her red bow behind?

Reaching down, Simangele picked up the silky ribbon with both of her front hooves. It was a little dusty, but the bright red was a cheerful color. She blew it clean and tacked it onto her mane behind her head. It looked, well, cheery. She twisted her neck back and forth, looking at herself from different angles. She liked it. In the mirror, she watched the corners of her mouth turn up. That was the first time she'd smiled since she transformed. It ended quickly, though, as she had no reason to be happy.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself away from the vanity and hung her head. Bow or no bow, the world was doomed, and it was all Iponi's doing.

A spot of colored paper behind the toilet caught Simangele's attention. Frowning, she reached a hoof back there and slid it out. She tried to ignore the hairs, dust, and cobwebs lingering there. Her green eyes widened at the sight of a pamphlet. The cover showed two ponies having a grand time sliding down a waterslide, one of whom had a horn on its head. The lettering was colorful, but completely alien to her. Wait, that wasn't quite right. She'd seen lettering very similar to that once before.

She had a hard time coaxing the paper off the floor, but once she'd grabbed it, she stuffed it in her mane and ran out to the classroom. There, on the blackboard, was Iponi's own handwriting. The word she'd written under the pony diagram was still clearly visible. Simangele carefully pulled out the brochure. The style was crude, but she found a matching letter on the pamphlet's cover.

This... was profound.

She was holding in her hooves a message, well, it was more like a symbol. But it was from Iponi. It was from God. This must be the hallowed land from which Iponi had descended. If the ponies in heaven had been able to build a waterpark and print fliers for it, then they were just as advanced as humans! The ponies on Earth had a divine right to their luxuries. Society didn't have to collapse, after all!

Simangele wanted to kick down her door and gallop out, screaming this divine message of hope to all who would listen. She couldn't, though, because she couldn't speak.

She was a horse.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Why leave behind such tantalizing evidence of a happy hallowed land, but take away the one thing that mattered most: speech? Communication was still possible, but awkward, and only amongst the literate. That wasn't enough to keep society running, especially with the loss of hands too.

Muttering random noises under her breath, Simangele turned away from the blackboard and sat down at her desk. She had to uncomfortably twist sideways to keep her tail from being pinched in chair's seat back. She pushed aside a stack of ungraded papers and dropped the pamphlet on the table. She struggled, but managed to get it open. The more she worked with her hooves, the easier such things became.

The implications of that bothered her, but she pushed away her ever-growing familiarity with her new skin and focused on the message from God. Inside, the pamphlet showed pictures of wave pools, fountains, log flumes, and some sort of rainbow-colored waterfall. There was more text, but she ignored that to look at the ponies. Many of them were partially dressed, wearing only a hat, sunglasses, a saddle, or flotation bracelets. That was odd, but odder still were the strange symbols on their thighs. They looked like icons or brand logos. Only the small ponies didn't have them. What was that all about? And why did some of them have horns and some of them have wings?

Shrugging, she glanced back at her own peachy flank. It was blank, but it still bothered her to look at that body and think of it as herself.

Turning her attention back to the pamphlet, she flipped it over to look at the back. A blue pony with wings was hovering in the air winking at the camera. He had his mouth open to speak. There was black text on a white background drawn in an oval with a line pointed at the pony's open mouth.

Simangele gasped. Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her. The first thing Iponi had done when they'd opened the door was speak to her. She'd dismissed it at the time because she couldn't understand, but now that she knew, she practically shook with enlightenment. What Iponi had been trying to say wasn't what mattered. The simple fact that she could speak was. Simangele closed her eyes. She could vaguely remember some of the noises that Iponi had made.

Taking a deep breath, she tried repeating what she could remember. Her voice sounded alien and equine, but she articulated a large variety of sounds and inflections. She set down the pamphlet and stared up at the ceiling. Wherever Iponi had gone, she gave her silent thanks for leaving behind such hope. Well, hope alone wasn't going to help. She had work to do.

Pulling out a piece of paper, she carefully copied down the word Iponi had written on the blackboard. She put both that and the pamphlet in a safe place. It felt like sacrilege to erase the blackboard, but she needed the space. Grabbing chalk in her mouth, she wrote down each letter of the alphabet. Now, all she needed to do was map a new set of sounds to each letter. It was a daunting task, but it was one that had been given to her by God herself. Simangele narrowed her eyes and snorted. If there was ever any per—, er, pony up for that task, it was her.

---

The next day, Simangele grunted as she carted the blackboard into town. It was large, heavy and awkward. In the back of her mind, though, she pictured the three men who'd installed it; she'd removed it by herself. She paused and shook her head. Sure, she was stronger, but that was hardly worth the price of what she'd lost.

With a final heave, the cart lurched over a pesky rock as she pulled it off the road. She hadn't been in town in quite some time and, to be frank, she was disheartened by what she saw. Some houses were boarded up, except for splinters of wood swaying in the breeze where the doors used to be. Ponies lurked in the shadows, snorting and shaking their heads. She couldn't recognize a single face.

She should have expected that, she really should, but seeing it for the first time drove home just how much everything had changed. It was unnatural. They all looked alien. Who were these ponies? Were they even the same persons they were before? Was she? She sniffled and rubbed at her baggy eyes. Perhaps it was her lack of sleep thinking, but she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Was her effort feeble? Was it all hopeless? Could she even make a difference?

A whimper caught her attention.

A small brown colt with yellow freckles blinked at her. Holding a stick in his mouth, he scratched the words 'help us' over and over again in the dirt.

Simangele's heart bled. She hung her head and cried. The poor child was just pathetic; she couldn't help herself. His rust-streaked pink mane was tattered and disheveled and he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in a month. That wasn't right. Nothing was right, but that's how things were.

With a deep breath to compose herself, she gave the child a stern look and grinned. He wanted help? Well, that was exactly why she'd come. Reaching behind her neck, she felt the comforting presence of Iponi's bow. Her Goddess was watching over her, and Iponi had loved her teaching. She knew she was doing the right thing. If the only one she could help was this little pony before her, then all of her effort would be worth it.

Straining herself, she dragged the blackboard out of the cart and leaned it up against a terracotta wall. Walking back, she inspected it to ensure that everything was still legible. Thankfully, her scrawlings had survived the journey intact. Pulling her favorite triangle out of her mane, she held it at hoof's length and gave it a good ring.

The colt dropped his stick and sat down. He blinked his green eyes at her. Other faces appeared in windows, but he remained alone in the street.

Frowning, Simangele rang the triangle harder. A few more children ran out, joining the other one to sit in the street. Three, four, five... five. She rang her triangle again. This time, they finally got the hint. A flood of small equines poured out of the buildings and sat before her. Several adults even came out as well. With one last ring, she waited for those who'd come to settle down. Based on a quick headcount, about half the town had shown up, including most of the children.

She tapped on the blackboard, pointing at the letter 'A' and the phonetic scrawling next to it. She pointed at herself, took a deep breath, and pronounced the sound that she'd chosen to replace it. She pointed at her audience. They sat there, blinking. A tumbleweed rolled by.

Simangele pointed back at herself and repeated her sound. She pointed back again, but this time, she started making that noise from her mouth and drew the sound out slowly. A yellow filly with flat red hair, similar in appearance to Iponi but with blue eyes instead of orange, made a squeaking sound then tried again and matched the noise Simangele had made.

Nodding, the peach-colored teacher repeated her actions until all of the children had joined in. The adults glanced at each other from the back row. Simangele moved on down the alphabet. By the third letter, the adults had joined in too. By the fifth, the noise everypony was making drew out more ponies from their sulking places.

It was exhilarating. Simangele had always loved teaching, but this was the first time she'd drawn such a large and rapt audience. The fact that she'd created the subject matter entirely from scratch was just icing on the cake. With renewed vigor, she repeated the entire lesson from the start. Repetition was a great memory enhancer.

Ponies suddenly gasped, and she was cut off mid 'G.'

Blinking, she couldn't fathom what the disturbance had been. Was there something offensive about her choice of sound for the letter 'G?' The tan colt raised his arm, er, foreleg. She pointed at him. He pointed back, glanced at the chalkboard, and worked out three sounds, the middle one being drawn-out.

Simangele knew the sounds by heart, but it took her a moment to piece together which letters they referred to: 'L,' 'O,' and 'K.' But the middle letter was drawn out, so that probably meant he was trying to say, 'look.' A huge grin plastered on her face. If he was actually able to speak and get his message across then this was proof that her plan had worked.

Oh! He'd said 'look' and he'd pointed at her.

Simangele twisted her flexible equine neck back, and her fuzzy jaw dropped. There, on her thigh, was a picture of a chalkboard with the letters 'ABC' written on it diagonally. It was simplistic, but detailed enough that there was no questioning what it was. She rubbed at her hide, but the picture had seemingly replaced her original fur color. It didn't come off.

A chill crept down her spine. That picture was similar to the ones she'd seen in the brochure. She glanced at her side then crossed her eyes and felt at her smooth, fuzzy forehead. No wings—no horn. Did those things come later? None of the townsfolk had either of those body parts. That mark on her hide certainly meant... something. What, she had no idea. Iponi left many things behind, most of which were mysteries.

All Simangele could do was shrug. She tapped on the chalkboard and resumed her lesson.

---

By the end of the day, Simangele could barely stand. Her flanks heaved. She panted and flopped down under the stars in a grassy field. The townsfolk, while not exactly talking, were certainly making noises at each other. It was a start, but it would take far more than a single day for her new set of phonetics to sink in. To make things even sweeter, one of her children had been recording her lecture and was probably posting videos online, assuming that the internet still worked, of course. She wished that she knew the colt's name.

Tomorrow, she would get them to pronounce their names.

This... new life of hers. She hadn't asked for it. Nobody had. Turn all the humans on Earth into colorful ponies? Who could ever want such a ridiculous thing? Yet... it had happened. All she could do was make the best of it.

No. She could do more than that. Way more.

Despite her aching weariness, she forced herself to get back up and wandered to the top of a nearby hill. Staring up at the stars, she knew that she'd been given the opportunity of a thousand lifetimes. She'd been visited by God herself, and had the duty to spread Her message, whatever that might be.

The sky was clear enough to see a hint of the Milky Way, the very galaxy in which she resided. But even that was just a blip compared to the enigma of the Divine Pony. Iponi had only ever said one word. It was a word that heralded destruction, but it was also proof of redemption. In the years to come, it would form the backbone of their new religion. Disciples of Iponi would chant that word with reverence, for it was the word that changed the world.

Simangele took a deep breath to shout that word out to the whole of existence. Were the Gods above watching and listening? They were, but Simangele did not know that. Had she known, she would have yelled even louder.

“P-P-NEIGH!”

---

“GO FUCK YOURSELF WITH A CACTUS!”

The incredibly offensive, yet highly-specific curse word carried loud and clear through the toilet and bounced through the room like flaming popcorn. All four princesses of Equestria dropped their jaws and reared back in shock. Twilight had asked if the transformed humans had wanted their assistance, and, well, she'd gotten an answer. She quickly jiggled the handle and turned the connection off lest that word be repeated.

“W-well...” Luna adjusted her neck piece and straightened up her crown. “That sounds like it's more up thine alley, Cadance.”

“My alley?” the pink pony princess perfunctually probed.

“Of course. Thou art the one adept at all forms of love. Shall I send somepony to fetch thee a cactus?”

Apple Bloom suddenly tensed up. “Not me! Ah'm through with cacti! Find somepony else to carry them!”

Apple Bloom's outburst broke through the tension in the room. Applejack giggled, and soon, everypony was laughing. The situation was far from humorous, but it was hard to swallow the fact they were both responsible and powerless to help. The mirth was a good outlet for their anxiety, and chests heaved while fuzzy ponies snortled on the floor. Even Lyra managed a smile.

Celestia was the first to get back up. With a sigh, she pointed at the toilet. “Well, you asked for a sign, and we received one. Rude as it was, I think it's best that we respect the former human's decision. Our meddling, after all, is what caused this whole problem in the first place. We'll continue to monitor this world, but if no further crisis develops over the thirty moon interval, we'll let them work things out for themselves.”

The others nodded, deferring to Celestia's wisdom. For better or worse, the Earth was on its own.

---

Humanity might have been broken and replaced, but in the end, what they were was close enough. They could still adapt, learn, and grow. Pants, or no pants, the world was theirs. All they had to do was pony up and take it like a man.

Comments

[Wacky]

An interesting tale. Glad I got to read it all in one sitting.

Hope Applebloom doesn't smite any more dimensions...

[Thought Prism]

Awesome. Too tired for criticisms.

[Terracath]

I don't understand why this story has the comedy tag. While there was an occasional bit of comic relief, for the most part it treated everything pretty seriously.

[Aotrs Commander]

Well, any story that see the extinction of humanity is a good one in my book!

(Even if being turned into ponies is more then it deserves..)

[SpiritOfDancingFlames]

I love it! Brilliant job! Fantastic! ^-^