Alistair looked around the cold stone walls that surrounded him. The chamber was a good size, looking as though it could fit several people within it. The air itself was thick and musty, making it difficult to breath. There wasn't a window anywhere in sight, preventing any fresh air from ever reaching him. Shackles and chains were staked into the floor, he noticed that they were in sets of four for some odd reason. A wooden door was at the far corner, plated with metal and having a square hole cut out at the top, small bars filling in the gap to allow a look within. It wasn't hard for him to figure out he was in a prison.
A few details did make the king scratch his head however. The overall cleanliness was an easy thing thing to spot. Cobwebs blanketed the ceiling and corners of the room while everything had a layer of dust and grime, it looked as though the place hadn't been used in centuries. What also made his nerves itch was the solitude he felt. He would assume that there would be other prisoners, or at least a guard of some kind to watch over him, but there was nothing.
There was no way of knowing how long he had been there, he barely knew how he had gotten there in the first place. All he could remember was running through a castle before being attacked by some strange looking beast. How he even got to the castle in the first place was its own mystery. His captors had taken his sword and shield, though his armor wasn't touched, save for his gauntlets and boots for a reason he couldn't fathom.
All he could do was sit in the silence and grasp at mental straws. Thoughts began to creep into his mind as he remembered a similar experience of imprisonment, locked away in the Denerim dungeon. At least then he had clear head and knowledge as to why he was there, stabbed in the back by his conniving sister-in-law faster than a dwarf takes to ale, and he was also with his good friend who could easily think on his feet. And though it was wishful thinking, Alistair had his doubts that there was a man-hungry guard watching over him at the moment, ready to foolishly enter his cell for a chance encounter with the king.
“Hm,” the Warden-King murmured, the gears in his head turning with ideas, “maybe... this is all a dream.” Eying his bare arm, he reached down and pinched the soft flesh, flinching immediately as he felt the sharp sting. “Ouch... that hurt. Guess I can't be dreaming then. Too bad, that would have made this so much easier.” He stared down at the floor for a moment as he began to think. “Although, I could be in the Fade. You can feel pain in the Fade, right?”
Thinking back, Alistair tried remembering when he and his friends braved the abomination filled halls of the Circle Tower, a good amount of time had gone by since then. There, they had actually fought in the Fade, having been brought there by a powerful demon. It was a strange battle, one that he was certain they didn't go through unscathed.
“Yeah,” he muttered, fully remembering that day, “I remember taking a few blows from that sloth demon. I also remember going 'ahhrgh' when it happened as well, so I must have felt some pain.” Resting a hand on his chin, Alistair raised his other arm up and slowly lifted it up and down in the air as he stared at it. “Really don't think I'm in the Fade anyway, just doesn't feel all that... Fadey.”
Everything became silent once gain as Alistair quietly sat still and thought on the situation. Memories of the confrontation with Avernus were brought to his attention. He could remember riding to the village, meeting his Warden friends and advancing on the cave that housed the blood mage. As he tried to remember what happened further, his mind drew a blank.
“Oh, I know!” Alistair exclaimed, his mood uplifting as he realized what was going on. “We found Avernus, killed his sorry maleficarum ass and went back to the village to celebrate another job well done. We had drinks to enjoy the company of old friends and Oghren did something to mine as a joke, the sneaky dwarf bastard. Now, I am just inside my own mind, creating this bizarre situation while in the real world, I'm running around in my undergarments declaring that the Maker is really a filthy nug named Tessy.” Moments passed as he allowed what he had just said to settle, half-expecting to hear someone chastise him. As he thought on his previous idea, a frown formed on his lips as he heaved a sigh. “That's ridiculous. What am I, stupid? And why have I been talking to myself this whole time?”
Alistair laid back against the wall, staring up into the ceiling as he tried thinking of a better solution. However, his train of thought was derailed as he heard noise sounding off in the distance. Standing up, the king approached the wooden door and listened carefully. The faint sound of footsteps could heard growing steadily louder. From the sound of them, he could only guess there had to be four of them, and they seemed to be wearing wooden shoes.
As he continued to listen in, he heard one of them speak. “But to throw it in the dungeon, that just seems unnecessary. You could have simply brought it to me, or a guard could have watched over it.” The voice was that of a woman, chiming with a melodic tone. Just hearing it made Alistair want to smile, his mind already picturing how gorgeous she must look.
“Maybe I should parade all strange and dangerous creatures down the halls then, sister,” came a second feminine voice, her overly sarcastic tone sounding forced. “The thing nearly attacked me, I had to keep it away from the staff to prevent their harm, you've seen the weapons it had.”
“Perhaps, but we should learn more about this creature before drawing such conclusions. Once I've seen it for myself, I'm certain we will know what we need to.” Hearing the voices and footsteps sounding right outside his door, Alistair quickly backed away from it, preparing himself for whatever was about to transpire.
As the footsteps stopped, the metallic sound of iron grinding against itself sounded and Alistair watched as the door opened. The king's eyes widened as his expectations shattered, seeing two four-legged creatures stepping into his cell.
Stumbling back, Alistair fell down as he stared up in surprise to the creatures, seeing not another soul behind them. He recognized the smaller one of the two, being the same one that he had ran into within the castle halls. The other was slightly larger, having a contrasting white coat, and a large mass of multi-colored hair that flowed freely in the breeze, despite there being no wind in the windowless cell.
The white one looked down at the surprised king with her own unexpected look. “So our guest is awake,” she said, her voice being the same as the beautiful one he had heard through the walls, making him all the more shocked.
Before anything else could be said, the darker one stepped forward and glared down at the king. “Tell us now, creature, what are you? Perhaps a changeling in disguise? Maybe an assassin sent after one of us?”
“What... what am I?” Alistair asked, bewildered by the question. “What are you? You're the strange monsters here, not me. Are you some kind of spirits possessing the bodies of horses or something?” His eyes ran up and down them for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at. “Hm, you're not ugly enough to be darkspawn or abominations... “
The king nearly swallowed his tongue as the azure creature stamped her hoof down hard, nearly cracking the stone flooring under them, her face was twisted into a glare of unbridled rage as she locked onto him. “THOU DAREST INSULT THE PRINCESSES OF EQUESTRIA?! HOLD THY TONGUE, CREATURE, WHILEST THOU STILL HAVE IT!”
Her voice was loud, booming with enough force to cause an earthquake, creating its own echo that reverberated through the mind and soul of any creature unfortunate enough to be caught in its wake. Alistair was against the wall by now, wide-eyed as he shook uncontrollably. He could feel every hair on his head pulled back, as though it had just been caught in a violent gale. “Andraste's blood!” he gasped. “You could make even the Grand Cleric herself wet her robes, and her viciousness can make an Archdemon reverse its Blight.”
While the two held another staring contest, one looking on in fear while the other held anger, the tallest one eyed Alistair with a look of understanding. “Calm yourself, sister,” she said, comfortingly nuzzling against her as the azure one's face softened to a mild agitation. “I feel that our guest is not familiar with where he is.”
“Oh,” the Warden-King blinked, taken aback by her calm and pleasant demeanor, “well you'd be right in guessing that. Can't say I've ever been in a dungeon owned by strange, horse-like talking animals before. No... this is a pretty high notch on the strange scale, and I have seen a lot... well, several strange sights in my time.”
“What is your name, and what manner of creature are you?” the white one asked, seemingly ignoring Alistairs talkative nature.
Alistair remained silent for a moment, thinking on how he should answer. “My name's Alistair... Theirin, Alistair Theirin. Just a simple, nothing-special human who happens to be locked in a strange dungeon...” Gauging their reactions, he could tell that his name didn't ring any bells with them, that was good. He figured he didn't need to reveal his title just yet, seeing it as one of those details he could put off until last minute.
“Well, Alistair,” the white one said, “I am Princess Celestia,” the princess then nodded toward her company, “and this is my sister, Princess Luna.” Luna nodded subtly in response.
“Nice to meet you, I guess,” Alistair replied. It was hard for him to sound entirely sincere, still technically being a prisoner and all. “I'd probably ask where I was, but according to Shouty over there, it's someplace called 'Equestria'. Can't say I've ever heard of it... then again, I'm not very good with direction and geography.” He scratched his chin as he thought on something. “That's probably why I was never allowed to hold the map...”
Luna took a step forward, her gaze still holding a fierce shimmer as she made herself as intimidating as possible. “Do you expect us to believe such tales?” she asked in a commanding tone. “Tell us now, what is your purpose here?”
“Look,” Alistair replied, being as blunt as possible for the abrasive creature, “all I remember is going after this murderer with my friends. Things went very wrong very quickly, as they seem to always do around us. Then the next thing I know, I'm running through a strange castle before being attacked by you.” His shoulders lifted up as he shrugged out his clueless perspective. “All I have to go on is that you had something to do with this, but seeing the reactions I'm getting, that possibility looks rather bleak. And that's just wonderful for me.”
The azure princess huffed in agitation. “And you still think such lies will be accepted? I suggest you begin telling us your intentions, or else you will be-”
“Now now, sister,” Celestia interrupted, her demeanor of pure serenity never faltering, “we must show patience to this... human. His confusion seems genuine, I feel he is telling us the truth.”
“But, Celestia-” the princess tried to protest.
“Patience, Luna,” the older sibling urged, “he has taken no aggressive action against us, and his armaments are in our possession.” Her eyes drifted toward Alistair. “That is assuming you don't have any other abilities we are unaware of.”
“Other abilities?” Alistair murmured, not knowing if they thought he was a mage or something. “Well, I don't mean to brag, but I like to think I have a quick wit and amazing reaction speed. I once fought against a witch in a battle of wordplay, trouncing her at every turn. Then again... I think she left while she was still in the lead... Oh, I can also do this.” The king then proceeded to snap his fingers, creating a long silence except for the echoing sound generated by his action. Both princess eyed him with a raised brow, looking at him as though he were crazy. He wasn't really sure why he thought that would impress them.
“Such a strange creature,” Luna murmured offhandedly.
Alistair managed to give a weak chuckle. “So I've been told.”
“Perhaps we should adjourn to a more comfortable setting,” Celestia advised. “There, we can learn more about one another to assess what exactly has occurred.”
“That sounds wonderful,” the king said happily. “Not that I mind conversing in dark, filthy dungeons or anything.”
“Then let us depart,” Celestia said, turning toward the door and ushering the human through. Stepping out of the cell, Alistair followed the white-coated princess as she walked up a nearby, winding set of stairs. Luna brought up the rear, the king could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head.
Again, Alistair was noticing how decrepit the area around him looked. The cold, grey walls of stone were cracked or dirty. Everything looked more fitting to be apart of old ruins rather than a still occupied castle. “You're prison seems a bit aged,” he said, remarking on the sights. “A prisoner could easily break out if they gave enough effort.”
“The dungeons are rarely used actually,” Celestia replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You would be the first creature to be placed there in many centuries.”
“Really,” Alistair questioned, “you know that for certain?”
The princess nodded. “Of course, I was the one who placed them there.”
“Wait...” the Warden-King muttered, finding something off with that statement, “exactly how old are you?”
A smile formed on Clestia's lips as they continued to walk. “One should never ask a mare about her age. Especially when they are a princess.” Alistair's expression immediately deadpanned at the answer. He could remember the last time he had heard such a response. Gaining it from an old women who later turned into a dragon and tried to kill him.
The spiraling stairway soon ended and Alistair found himself being escorted into a large hallway. There, one of the patrolling beasts he had seen previously was standing guard. His stone-faced expression faltered slightly as he saw the princess exit the dungeon with the human beside them
Celestia approached the guard, causing him to straighten his posture even further, making it look as though he was causing himself pain. “Would you please spread the word to the others within the castle that we have a guest with us? He will be staying here for an unknown amount of time, coming from a far off land and they should not worry when they come across him.” Without a word, the guard bowed his head down respectfully before galloping off to do as he was instructed. “That should help prevent any unwanted surprises.”
Continuing down the expanding hallway, Celestia leading the way, Alistair's stride was slowed as he was unable to keep himself from gazing about the area. He could see the beautiful white walls and elegant rug at his feet. Pieces of art in terms of paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, while large windows gave him a view to a vast and glorious land beyond. Looking out into the horizon, he could see an expansive forest that eventually ended, allowing him to see the small dots of what looked like a quaint village in the distance.
“Amazing,” Alistair murmured, “without needing to worry about being attacked or gored by an unknown beast, I can actually see the quality your castle has. Such a pristine look and beautiful architecture, I feel like I'm in Orlais.”
“Do you feel threatened here, Alistair?” Celestia asked, showing a slight concern as she addressed him.
“It's nothing personal,” the king remarked. “I've just never had good fortune whenever I've woken up in a place that was different than where I passed out in. Last time, I woke up in a prison, awaiting my execution under the order of my sister-in-law and her insane father. The time before that, I was nearly butchered before being saved by an old woman who I later find out only did so to advance her schemes in ruling the world... or something along those lines.”
“That sounds... unfortunate,” the princess replied, a worried tone in her voice.
“I've had to deal with far worse, trust me on that,” Alistair reassured. “Fortunately, I had a good friend by my side throughout it all.”
They soon stopped in front an impressively large double door. Alistair noticed that there were handles on it, though he questioned the reason why. It was obvious that the hoofed creatures could operate it, lacking the necessary appendages for it. He could only assume that they pushed against the doors to open them.
Alistair was then shocked to see that Celestia's horn had developed a golden glow, matching the one that engulfed the handle of the door. Just as the handle was engulfed, the door began to move aside on its own, allowing them entrance into the room beyond.
“W-what was that?” Alistair breathed, jumping back in surprise at the feat, pointing a near-shaking hand at the door.
The princesses both looked at him in confusion for several moments, before Celestia's gaze turned upward toward her horn. “Oh, do you not have magic where you are from?”
“Well yeah, we have magic,” the king said, unable to stop staring at the white horn, “but not that kind of magic. Magic's supposed to blow things up, hurt people or on a rare occasion not hurt them. It makes lightning and fire and a whole lot of other bad, nasty things happen. Are you telling me all you horned creatures can do magic?”
“Yes,” Celestia nodded, gaining a shuddering expression from the human in response. “Perhaps... explanations are in order, from both of us.” Without another word, both princesses entered the room, leaving Alistair to continue to stare off at what he had seen, becoming steadily warmer under his collar.