"Poland has been a source of trouble for over five hundred years"
Franklin D. Roosevelt
As everyone knows, history is written by the victors. Napoleon was convinced of this when, after a few years on Saint Helena, he was sent to Hell using at least one red-hot crowbar and a few white mice (instead of dying of cancer, as most people believe). Heorian Dubrowski, a noble from Poland, was convinced of this when, twelve years after his death, he was thrown away from history, simply because the Chinese were upset that one man, from such a wild country like Poland, had conquered their empire and rose as a new emperor of the Sarmat dynasty. But you’ve probably never heard of this, have you?
Further into the past, Princess Celestia was convinced of this, when... Well, it is a longer story. Much longer...
And everything started in Krakow, in the XVII century...
* * *
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Poland, there were few young students who were doing everything that good students had to do - drinking, learning, romancing and having a lot of fun. Especially in the nights, in the undergrounds of their university...
“Thou shalt open a circle,” A person in a dark coat and a pentagram around his neck proudly announced. His comrades quietly removed few a chicken heads from the table to fulfill their leader’s will.
Black candles stood around the tome known as “Demonology”, one of the most dangerous books in the history of the universe, creating a gloomy atmosphere in the room. It was strange that this book was found in the library of the strict Jagiellonian University, a place that had always stood high with its morals.
“Pst... Maybe we should finish for today? We can’t summon another demon. Priest Grzegorz wouldn’t be pleased. He won’t absolve us from our punishment this time,” one of the cultists whispered, concerned.
Another cultist laughed and reached down for a bottle of wine hidden under the table, taking a swig. ”Oh, come on. We could at least try this one!”
He pointed to a paragraph within the tome. Without waiting for a reaction, he began to read aloud.
“Demonicus equinus, terrible beast of four monstrous legs, who consumes human souls and enslaves them for the pleasure of her and Satanael. Summoning this monster is an easy feat however,” he called for a moment. “Equinus is very fond of baked goods, particularly sweet bread. Very well, I shall try!”
Before anyone had a chance to stop him, he laid on all-fours, jumped twice and whinnied as a horse would.
“EQUUS POLONUS SUM!”
Purple clouds rose into the air, along with dust from the floor. When the smoke had cleared, much to their surprise, the abecedarians of Jagiellonian University saw a little, blue pony, lying on the floor, in the clothes of their friend. In addition, this pony had a pair of wings.
“We can forget absolution”, the leader retorted with unabashed irritation.
* * *
Ten years later...
“Leave this den, you son of a whore!” Dybachevsky, leader of the foray, shouted. His companions followed his example, but were using much more vulgar language.
“I won’t let any damned Dybachevsky kinsman enter my home! The judge was corrupted!”
Young Michal Vierushovsky, coat Alabanda, was doing his very best to barricade the doors. It looked like the whole world had turned against him and his family since Dybachevsky, one of the most brutal of brawlers in Ukraine, had grown a desire for their large, fertile lands, not caring about the lives he would destroy.
Against the whole wretched rabble he had only his three brothers and his father, two servants, a sabre and his good old flintlock hanging from his belt. The main doors had only one defender - him. The rest of his family were trying to protect other entrances. His father was guarding the women in the pantry.
This bastard claimed that their nobility was fake, and that they were in fact, just a group of very rich peasants. It was a serious accusation in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Perhaps one of the most serious. Would such an accusation go through, penalties included the loss of one’s civil rights, of his honor, of everything. It would mean eternal infamy.
Unfortunately, the reprimanding of their nobility hadn’t gone their way, as “someone” had stolen their documents. Now, the whole estate of the Vierushovsky family, passed down from generation to generation, was, according to court judgement, Dybachevsky property.
“Pssst... You forgot about the rear doors. Your brother did it too,” he suddenly heard near his ear. The young noble tried to turn, but he was too slow - he felt something sharp hit his back and fell to the ground, a scream escaping his lungs.
“Yes, that’s the correct position of a peasant in the presence of Sarmat.” Vierushovsky recognized the owner of this mocking voice. Janusz Dydhynsky, another infamous bandit from Ukraine, a loyal servant of Dybachevsky. The rumors around this man were enough to make Vierushovsky's hair stand on end with fear. In that one, short moment he realised that the death and eternal infamy wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him.
“We will meet in hell, you bastard,” he whispered. A few drops of blood leaked from his mouth. If he only could grab his pistol and shoot this murderous bastard... or himself. Everything would be simpler.
Metal rang when his opponent noticed what Michal was trying to do and without thinking just kicked his weapon. Vierushovsky's last opportunity of having a decent death had just passed. He was praying to Lord to bleed out before... before...
“Turn him over!” Dydhynsky ordered to someone from the other room. Footsteps of a few people sounded in the house. They were preparing for the biggest humiliation a noble could face.
Ponification.
“Please, no-” Michal began, but he was quickly silenced by another kick, this time right into a solar plexus. Servants of forayers, most likely plain peasants forced by them to join this little invasion, quickly filled the orders of Janusz. Meanwhile, a bandit personally destroyed the improvised barricade on the doors and opened them.
“Welcome, mister brother,” He said with pride to Dybachevsky. The new owner of the house, fields and peasants of the Vierushovsky family entered to the room like a victor.
“Welcome to my new house, mister Dydhynsky. Oh, my tongue slipped, I wanted to say to my new pigsty.” Dybachevsky sneered at the home of his defeated enemy. “What about my newest animals?”
“We’ve found three horses, nine cows and, in a moment, we’ll have four new ponies,” Janusz responded with a cruel smile. Bleeding Vierushovsky felt a lot of fear... and anger. Four new ponies? Only four? His parents, three brothers, sister-in-law, sister and two servants had been home. That means that... At least half of them were killed during the foray.
Michal was laying on his stomach. It was the first step - during ponification a man has to have all of his limbs on the ground. Now it was time for the second step - Janusz sat on him, like on a horse. Now he had only to tell “Equus Polonus sum” and transformation would be-
Wait, something was wrong. Really wrong. Vierushovsky could smell... Cherries?
“Equus Polonus sum!”
Everything went dark