//------------------------------//
// 3) Major Changes 
// Story: A Winter's Tale 
// by WinterPony 
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Chapter 3

        Winter gazed into his mirror. His whole body trembled with fear and anxiety. No, Winter, you made this decision, no chickening out. He resisted his urge to cry, reminding himself of his mother’s words from when he broke his leg when he was nine. “Royals do not cry. You cannot rule a country if mere pain breaks you down.” For all of Winter’s life he smiled at the tears of others. But now he was using all his effort to not bawl.
        Winter reflected on the past two weeks. It was like a rollercoaster. He was down as low as he thought possible, and then Arch Angel, this beautiful, amazing stallion raised him up the hill to the top. But Winter found out that once you are at the top of the hill, you fall much much harder and exponentially faster.
        Reflecting on these events gave Winter the much-needed push to complete his task.

Winter took a deep breath.

He reminded himself that this couldn’t be reversed.

His horn began to glow.

A blue wisp of aether slowly seeped out of his horn and enveloped him. Winter watched in the mirror until the mist covered his face and he could see nothing but the cerulean light of the aura. Suddenly a new sensation occurred within him. It felt like fire on his skin but somehow comforting inside of him. The king tried to take a deep breath, but drew it in shallowly. This process seemed to last an eternity to Winter. And abruptly, everything went black.

When Winter came to a few hours later, he didn’t feel any different. He looked around. His room was still neat and everything was still where it was. However, he couldn’t remember what had recently happened. Winter looked at the floor below him. Must have gotten a little too drunk again. His head ached and he felt a little woozy so he decided to lay in bed and get a little more rest. He climbed up onto the mattress. Was my bed always this large? And then he remembered. He remembered everything. It hit him like a heavyweight boxer. He slowly got down and approached the mirror. For the first time since he was nine, he cried.

The spell worked.

Winter was now a mare.

“By Celestia!” Winter jumped at her new voice. It was soft and delicate, like a rose. Winter examined her new body thoroughly. Her hooves brushed over her new breasts, the feeling that accompanied it feeling odd and awkward. Through the overall shock at the result her own decision, Winter was moderately pleased. She was at least what most stallions called cute: soft, celeste-blue fur, big violet eyes, a flowing mane of teal, gilded with silver strokes.

A new thought occurred to Winter. Getting out. She now realized just how rash her decision was. She never had a plan for if this worked. She never thought about the rest of his life. Her kingdom, her authority, anything. Winter cursed under her breath. She knew is someone found out she would be ruined. Maybe if she found one of the princesses they could fix this.

“Okay, Winter, just think. How am I getting out of here.” She cleared her head. Supplies, I need supplies. She grabbed her cloak she used to hide herself from the commoners. The mare became flustered again in the process, and ripped out every article of clothing from her drawer, until she remembered that it was hanging from a brass hook on the wall.

Winter threw the cloak on and slowly cracked the door, peering into the hall. It certainly seemed clear. She started sneaking down the hall, trying to stay to the darker shadows and corners. She was almost out when she came to the only exit: the door to the throne room. Why did they build this damn castle with only one door! She didn’t take long to dwell on inefficient architecture because she quickly noticed the guards standing attention at the sole exit.
She couldn’t risk them asking questions. If they had been doing their job they would have noticed no one came in. Winter needed more time to think. She turned to retreat to her bedroom. As she hurried away down the hall, she accidentally bumped a table with her flank, knocking over a pot, which in turn smashed into a million pieces with a large CRASH! She heard the guards rushing down the halls just as Winter got to her room and locked the door. She heard the guards running back and forth, up and down the halls for a few minutes and then a knock.

“My lord, are you okay?” He heard a voice ask, sounding quite concerned. He recognized as the captain of the guards.

“Of course!” Winter called back. Then she realized the major flaw in her answer. Winter’s voice had change during the spell and her response was obviously female.

Behind the door the captain, Spear Tip, opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. The captain knew that, while not often, it was also not a rarity for the king to have prostitutes over. He shrugged it off. 

 “I think it was another one of those whores that knocked it over. She must have come in when we were changing the guard at the door.” The captain shouted to the other guard who was down the hall. “We’re good here.” 
The other guard nodded and the two went back to the throne room.
Winter layed on her bed for the next hour until she felt she could try something else. She thought of what she overheard the captain yell. Then it dawned on Winter. All she had to do was “remake” herself into a prostitute and she could get out. Winter knew there was only one place to get the clothing though, and the thought made her heart sink and her stomach flip. When his wife, Blue Sapphire died, Winter kept her closet the exact way she left it. Blue loved fashion and kept her closet coordinated in order of colors, patterns, and a million other things Winter never understood. Now, for the first time in about eight months, Winter opened that closet. Winter once again fought the urge to cry. She quickly skimmed for a red silk dress she remembered Blue wearing on their first date. If I’m going to a prostitute, I might as well be going to be a high-price call mare. It fit perfectly. She also found a pair of heels, tried them on, and nearly broke her leg. She would settle for just a dress and pearl necklace.
Winter tip-hooved out of her room. “What’s your game?” Winter jumped higher than ever before. She turned to find Silver Smith the butler standing right behind her. “I’ve been standing in this hall all day and not a single pony has entered those doors, except the king. Who are you? How did you get here?” Winter assessed her current situation. She motioned for Silver to join her in the bedroom. He awkwardly followed her. 

When the shut Winter began to speak. “It’s me, Winter, and if you can get me out of here I will give you your next five years’ salary today.” Winter hoped throwing money at the situation would work, as it usually did.

The servant was dumbfounded. “Did you really? You didn't really just... Please tell me you didn't.”

“If you shut up right now I will make it the next ten years’ salary.”

That worked. The server nodded, his eyes still wide. Winter angrily grabbed a check from a desk drawer and filled it out for two million bits. “You get this when you get me out the door.” The servant nodded again. Winter went back into Blue’s closet, found a large saddle bag and filled it with as many bits as it could possibly hold. “Now you are going to say I am a prostitute and that you are escorting me out. Do you understand?” Another nod.

Winter’s heart beat rapidly as she walked down the halls, escorted by Silver. They came to the guards. “Just escorting this slut out of here,” Silver said with a slight chuckle in his voice. If Winter hadn’t need Silver’s help, she would have killed him. But what Silver said seemed to work and Winter made it out without so much as a glance.

Now Winter had a bigger challenge to face: life