You know, reading is actually quite the relaxing pastime. Granted I couldn’t do much else other than read, plus the material itself wasn’t exactly of the highest calibre, but it managed to keep me from going insane. After all if anything was going to break me, boredom certainly wouldn’t be it. The book I was reading was a copy of “Love and Tolerance; The Laws of Equestria”. It had been given to me by the Element of Loyalty, apparently she believed that an amoral, spiteful, monstrosity such as myself would need to learn some kind of ethics. She even gave me a free bookmark, which would have been kind if the image of Golden Oaks Library wasn’t plastered all over it. Unfortunately for her though, I already had my own ethics, so the book didn’t really help much in that regard. To be fair though, it did give me a hint of respect for her that she cared enough to try and “reform” by teaching me a moral code. It was too bad that I could only read Equestrian with the ability of a five year old.
It was quite a shame too. Aside from the obvious necessity that the ability to read was, Equestrian was a beautifully written language. Their penmanship, or “penmareship” as they called it, was astounding. Though perhaps that was because all the books I had read, or at least tried to, were written by unicorns. Regardless, the Equestrian language had a very unique style to it. The only thing that would come close would be some kind of pseudo Phoenician-Persian hybrid. It did lose most of its charm when they spoke in English though. Seriously, this intricate sixty seven letter alphabet and they spoke in English. They even sounded like they’re from Normaltown, America. Then they told me that English was most likely just a horrible rip off of Equestrian when I brought it up, because apparently I had an accent. If I was from Sydney, or Brooklyn then I’d understand, but no, we shared the same accent, my voice was just different because… I actually didn’t know why. Then again, they’re incredibly racist to zebras, griffins, dragons and windigos, so adding humans onto their list of xenophobic targets wouldn’t be that big of a stretch.
Not only that, but they also spoke French. Sure they called it Prench and added all the pony mannerisms, but it was still the most insulting thing that I had ever heard when they claimed responsibility for it. Then they said that Prench was derived from Equestrian. English, and Equestrian I suppose, were Germanic languages with Latin influences. French, or Prench, was Latin with Germanic influences. You cannot break down the English language and somehow get French! Not to mention that they speak “Germane-ian” here, which apparently is a younger language than both of them! I kicked the end of the bedframe that I was lying on.
The pained yelp I had reminded me that the bed was made out of iron, so kicking it with bare feet was quite the mistake on my part. The bed was designed for ponies, which in itself was idiotic because the amount of effort necessary for them to get into it would make you believe that it was a pony sleeping in a human’s bed, so it was noticeably too short for me. It could have been part of the punishment to make me feel cramped in, which might have actually led me to believe their Princesses had a spine beneath their fur, but the argument fell flat when I had silk blankets and a scenic view from the nearby window.
Perhaps the scatterbrained treatment made sense in their world though. The Everfree Forest, which I thought was pretty homely considering everything, was the most feared spot in the entire nation. The second being a cursed desert with so many venomous creatures that would have Australia piss its pants at just the thought of it. Every scientific principle I knew was broken by their magic and vice versa. I was still trying to wrap my head around the time that I saw Sparkle literally create matter. When God did it, it was supposed to be some kind of grand and awesome cacophony of divinity as the universe was being created. To ponies? Any well off unicorn could do it, fairly simple if they had the magical reserves. Then again, I managed to fry the brains of their brightest scholars with high school level mathematics, so perhaps it worked both ways. Perhaps the notion of imprisonment was just a stalling point to punishment itself? Maybe it was kind of like a last rights kind of thing, so they tried to keep the prisoner comfortable before executing him? Well, perhaps, if the Princess had any gall in that oversized body of hers.
The sound of the multiple locks and enchantments being disabled on my cell’s door distracted me from my thoughts on the situation I was in. A quick glance at the window confirmed that it was indeed dawn, for the oddest of reasons I woke up around four and couldn’t fall back asleep, meaning that it was time for breakfast. I placed the bookmark on the page I was on and left the book on the small bedside table. My chains clinked as I moved, leaving a strange echoing effect in the oddly spacious room. There were only three things in the room, my bed, the table and a cushion for any “visitors” who wished to pay me visit. Then again, the chains that kept me tied to the bed would have prevented me from using anything else in the room should it have been added. From the state of the cell, it was probably a guest room with chains nailed to the wall. Why a nation that gets invaded every month doesn’t have a proper dungeon for terrorists and super powered beings baffled me. Perhaps they were considering turning me to stone instead…
“Your breakfast is ready beast!” Ah great, this little ball of sunshine was back. Hasty Defence, I believe he was called. This pegasus had the worst attitude that I have ever seen. At least Rainbow Dash knew when the time was serious or not. This guy wouldn’t stop prattling on about how “Equestria would put me in my place,” and “my judgement is coming”. He thought he was guard supreme, the one who called the shots around the so called prison. The fact he kept on forgetting was how it was good ol’ Celestia who told him to make sure I live in acceptable conditions and make sure I don’t blow the palace up or something only proved how incompetent he was as a “Royal” Guard. Even with the chains and idiotic guard, Celestia was still upholding the fair treatment of prisoners. She had my thanks for that, whatever it may have been worth.
The tray skidded across the floor, my meal getting thrown around the plates and partially falling on the floor. It was the same meal every day, with the exception of the day being an apple instead of an orange. It was a good thing I liked burned toast and scrambled eggs, because that was all that the Princesses would give me. Until lunch, then I got a salad and baked potato at least. Though something was off with the meal… I squinted at the toast, noticing a good wad of saliva sitting on it.
“You spit on the toast… again.” I deadpanned. Seriously, you’d think he had better things to do than spit on my food. If I didn’t like it I’d scream my lungs out for Celestia, who’d come down in another couple minutes and order him to get me a clean lunch. Not only that, it was only the toast that he spit on. I mean, at least try the drink or eggs. If he was going to put effort into ruining my meal, he should have at the very least put enough effort in to make it somewhat hidden.
“You’re lucky that you get that, beast,” he replied with all the undeserving smugness in the world. I could only groan in response. It was the same pattern over and over again for the past two weeks. Maybe Celestia would beat her three minute record of pulling herself all the way here from the throne room. Whatever drove him to such stupidity I’ll never know, but unlike Miss Sunshine upstairs, I wasn’t going to deal with his idiocy for the rest of my imprisonment.
“Look,” I said with the most patient voice I could muster, “can’t we just skip the stupid vicious cycle for once and get me a clean lunch on your own? You know how this is going to end, whether you like it or not.” Hasty gave me his best “death glare”, which wasn’t that scary when compared to an innocent, little squirrel, in an attempt to intimidate me. Celestia or Luna might have been able to get me to sweat a bit, but some push over guard? No way. I folded my arms, or to the farthest extend that I could fold them with the chains, and sat back. Apparently not getting the response he was hoping for, he decided to open his big, stupid, fat mouth again.
“Why can’t you just eat the food I bring you?” he responded spitefully, “It’s much more than the likes of you should be getting.” Okay, he was totally asking for a good smack upside the head by this point. I had seen some of the less dangerous prisons in lower Canterlot. Thieves and rapists got better food than I did, and I just scared a couple ponies and caused some chaos. I didn’t even hurt anyone! Okay, okay, I didn’t kill anyone. Okay, I didn’t kill anyone that I knew about. Celestia didn’t actually read out my charges, so for all I know while I was getting captured half of Ponyville could have been set on fire or something stupid like that. Some minds were broken and some bones snapped, though, I’d admit that. Besides, most of the injuries were caused by other ponies. Why half of Ponyville wasn’t in maximum detention was beyond me. Whatever Hasty’s problem was with me, he wasn’t letting on to what it was. I mean he was pretty cool with Discord wandering around the place, but me? He looked at me the same way the Pope would look at Lucifer. The first time he saw me in my cell he tried to strangle me with my chains. His defence was that he believed I had broken in and killed the real prisoner. Why he still had a job after that I’ll never know, why he still had it for two weeks later only confused me more.
Despite what you may have thought, I never hated the Equestrians. Well, most of them anyways. There were a select few that I despised with all my being. The first was that pink fur ball Calamari or whatever her name was, but Hasty was a close runner up. I don’t know why, but the two of us just shared a passion for hating each other. “Love and Tolerance”, sure Celestia. I’ll believe that your ponies believe in the fair and just treatment of prisoners and foreign concepts when pigs sprout wings and breathe fire. Then again, with Sparkle around that would be any day now…
“Hasty Defence, I believe I can take things from here.” The two of us glanced to the door to see Little, or Large seeing as how she was nearly as tall as I was, Miss Sunshine standing in the doorway. Hasty rigidly stood at attention, saluted, then left the room leaving the Princess and myself alone. “Seeing as how nopony decided to come down for Day Court, I thought I should bring you your breakfast ahead of time.”
So Celestia decided to bring me a meal all on her own, eh? Maybe she wanted to be the one to spit in my food. A tray in a golden aura floated towards me, what looked like a large omelet with fruit salad and decently made toast waiting inside. She even remembered the butter, how very kind of her. The large platter gently sat down on the end of my bed, leaving Celestia just standing there with a frown permeating her features. It was a bit awkward really, it was like she was frozen in that spot. Her eyes seemed to flicker back and forth between the food and me, edging me on to eat something. She did realise if she was going to poison me, she could’ve just forced it down my throat, right?
“You’re welcome…” Celestia muttered as she teleported out of the prison cell, the former tray of food in her magical grip. Really? Was Celestia just too polite not to leave without saying it, or did she actually expect me to say for actually bringing me a proper meal for once? As opposed to having to call out just to get a meal that wasn’t spit on or defiled in some way? If it was the former, I’d understand given her character, but the way she said it made it sound like the latter. Regardless, there was a heaping pile of food lying nearby and I was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
What did that saying even mean anyways? I took a bite into an apple as I thought into it further. It meant to not be ungrateful, I understood that, but why was it arranged like that specifically? What did “gift” mean relating to a horse anyways? I wouldn’t normally think about it so much if I wasn’t stuck in a world full of equines. As I continued to think, my mind only became cluttered with more questions.
Why would you look a gift horse in the mouth?
How does looking a gift horse in the mouth mean that you’re ungrateful?
Is Celestia a horse, or just a really tall pony?
Is there a difference between a horse and really tall pony?
Did I just look a literal gift horse in the mouth by not saying thanks?
hl2.exe has stopped working. You can check online for a solution.
I tossed the apple, along with the idiotic questions, across the room. There were far more important things to ponder than several century old sayings from England. For example, what was the situation in the Everfree? What happened to my allies there? How well was the rest of Equestria dealing with the half dozen international crises I had created since I had arrived? Lastly, although more out of stubbornness than anything, am I closer to getting home than I was when I began?