//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: New Discoveries 
// Story: Knight's Prompt 
// by Mister Hypothetical 
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Chapter 2



-- New Discoveries --



Pain.

The dull throbbing in Folan's head encased his mind and radiated throughout his body. Not so different, in fact, from a 2-to-4-star hangover. Laying there, Folan opened one of his eyes to reveal that the morning had far ago past, and the sun was now on its ending cycle, barely peeking above the horizon before sinking below the end of the planet, shrouding the land in darkness. Thank goodness. 

As the darkness filled the valley, the pain in his head began to subside, his fever cooling down in the chilly autumn night. After another few moments, he decided to try his luck in walking, sure enough, he could not feel his fingers... Wait! His fingers! His eyes shot wide open, he looked down to where his hands should be, where they had been all his life. All that stared back at him through the crisp night air, were two pairs of black appendages. 

He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a shrill whine, where had his voice gone? Inspecting the, legs? Folan found them to be the most alien thing he'd seen in his whole waking – and slightly drunk – life. The limbs were black and hard, almost like they were made from obsidian. Wicked edges and holes carved their way through the legs' entire length, leaving them cracked and crooked-looking, almost as if a stone mason was putting the finishing touches on a statue, made a mistake, and promptly said: "fuck it!" Then proceeded to carve holes into the entirety of the requested piece.  

But, unlike stone, these holes were carved into the legs of a living, breathing, sentient creature. Not to mention that the joint was bent in the opposite direction to what was intended for a normal, salubrious human arm.

That wasn't the only thing that was new, his stomach, in contrast to his appendages, was a sickly green color, only a little bit lighter than that of a lime's rind. Thin lines seemed to be dividing up his gut into multiple parts. Short bands wrapped themselves around the outer-most of his stomach, separating off the many sections from one another.  

Following the lines with his eyes, he found that they, indeed, wrapped all the way around to his back, upon careful examination, Folan was met with another sight. His back was, wrong. It seemed to carry on past his neck for a good foot, then snap perpendicular to the rest of his neck, 'that's not good.' He thought. 

Had he been paralyzed in the fall? No, he could still – Sadly – feel the rest of his body, that ruled that theory out; but then, why could he clearly see that his neck was bent the completely wrong direction? Now that he thought about it, his body seemed to resemble that of a horse's, rather than that of a human. That is, if horses were black, hard as a rock, had green stomachs, and cheese for legs. But that doesn't make sense, you don't just get drunk one night and wake up as a horse in a place you've never seen nor heard of before. Much less in what seemed to be a fantasy world, though he wasn't sure on that account, he was sure that his hometown didn't have cities carved into mountains, or ones made of purple and blue crystal. 

"This is what I get for never paying attention in geography class," He thought to himself, trying to get up on shaky legs. He would have to do more research when he got home; that is, if he ever got home. On that note, where was home? Other than the grassy fields and the unusually large apple orchards, this place looked nothing like his hometown, there weren't even any landmarks to be seen for miles. Not that he could see, it being night, and all. 

After trying – and failing – to pull himself up to walk, he decided that the best course of action was just to crawl towards the nearest settlement. He had seen one just over the large apple farm, towards the crystal spire. Thinking that, if worst comes to worst, and he wouldn't be able to make it to a hospital; he could wait till the morning for the spire to become visible again, like a beacon for salvation.

So, with determination in his eyes, and an ache in his... Well, everything. Folan began the long and taxing hobble to the closest hospital. 








Hours.

It had been hours since he'd started his long crawl, he could no longer see the cliff that he had fallen off of, and was now deep into the thick of the orchards. The moon had made its long track across the heavens, and now, was making way for the sun's light to bleed from the east into the sky, snuffing out the stars' light with its radiance.

Over the night, Folan had taken many stops to rest, but, he had made enough progress to catch the sight of the crystal castle, in all of its glory. The spires of the castle rose in jagged angles, scraping against the sun, cutting off rays of light and sharing them with whoever cared to bask in their unladen beams of pure happiness. The ivory city, though he could not see it well, looked even more brilliant in the sunrise, the castle's many tips sparkling in the morning haze, the shadows of the many buildings drawing wicked shapes into the mountainside. They were a sight to behold, that was for sure. 

Admiring the view for a few more seconds, Folan became unaware of his surroundings, so much so, that it came as a genuine shock when someone barked a shout in his direction. "Hey, you!"

Jumping a little at the unexpected noise, Folan hastily snapped his head in the direction of who could have been shouting at him. When his eyes met the creature, his jaw dropped. Standing in the location of where the sound had emanated, was not a human, but instead, a slightly undersized horse. But that wasn't what caught Folan's attention, It would have been entirely reasonable to see a horse here, it was a farm after all. Instead, it was the fact that this Pony? Was a bright orange color, an alternative to the dull grays, browns, and blacks that he had commonly seen. Also, this horse just frickin talked to him!

"Ah' don't know what 'yer doin' here, mister, but this here place ain't for the likes of your kind to be wanderin' about." Her voice was as smooth as butter, it came out with no hitch or stutter. The words held such a potent venom in them they could kill a rattlesnake with a mere utterance. It was terrifying. 

Folan thought of all the things that he wanted to tell her, that it was all a misunderstanding, that he wasn't going to hurt her, that he wasn't sure what she was talking about, that he needed help. All that came out was a measly gasp of air; silence filled the scene, infecting the air with awkwardness and unease. As his mouth lay open, he caught a glimpse of what had only been a mass on the side of his mouth until now. 

Fangs, his mouth was laden with two long, hard, sharp fangs that could surely penetrate an animal's coat with the slightest pressure. They gleamed in the morning light, shining into his eyes with the might of the angry pony's wrath. He closed his eyes to ward off the blinding beam; after closing his mouth, he opened his eyes to stare back at the mare. 

*WHACK*

Folan was thrown onto his back by a sharp blow to the front of his head, breaking his nose with a sharp crack. He stared back at her with astonishment, in only a second, she had closed the distance enough to rear around and land a single rap to his face with the two back-most of her hooves. Leaving him in a defenseless state, desperately clutching his nose to stop the blood from flowing out. 

She came closer, pulling a foreleg into position for another quick stroke. "Ah' mean it, stranger! You best get yer sorry flank offa' mah land, or ah'll turn yer sorreh shell into decorative plates!" She hollered in his ear at point-blank range. He lifted the leg that was covering his face in an attempt to shield himself from the inevitable blow. 

Taking away the limb from his face, he caught an up-close show to what exactly was leaking out of his body. Instead of a light red and runny fluid, his face and leg were covered in a thick, viscous liquid the same color as his abdomen, a sickly green. That was it, his body couldn't take the constant abuse. Blackness crept from the sides of his vision, engulfing his world in a dark haze as he lost consciousness. 

After a moment, he felt nothing at all, his body relaxed, and he floated into the wonderous and peaceful land of rest. Far away from the waking world, he could think less of his problems, and let his body drift off.

Into sleep.