Though my body felt heavy, I awoke surprisingly refreshed; every minor ache appeared to have dissipated, and not even the weakest parts of me wanted to roll back over and just lie there.
I found myself in a simple room, minimalist and immaculately clean. If I’d had to hazard a guess, I would have gone with something akin to a hotel suite from back home, something uncommon but not completely unheard of. After taking a moment to collect myself, I jolted in realization at what my subconscious had already pinned down for me: wherever I was, it certainly was not home.
Was I in heaven?
It seemed likely. Dying on the battlefield was almost a given, but I couldn’t help be flattered by the implicit stamp of approval on my immortal soul. Then again, despite my attempts to remain humble, I had to admit that it was certainly a magnificent way to go. Not only had I managed a feat few non-bearmen geomancers could claim, I had saved a fellow soldier in the process.
This sacrifice had pleased the powers above—if my surroundings were any indication—but I still had to second-guess my decision. Even if I was the better fighter at the moment, I always had had the feeling that Will was more inherently talented than me. I felt I should have been angry at him, since neither of us would have needed to perish if he hadn’t rashly insisted on finishing his fight, with fiery death looming above him.
Or maybe the rash, selfish decision was my own?
In any case, this train of thought was clearly unproductive; this was no time for personal emotion. I just had to count on Will to show me he was worth it in the end.
I remained in bed partly due to indecision, and partly out of measured caution. “Heaven” felt a bit too worldly, and my doubts began to grow. The alternative was, of course, outsiders. With their technology I could already be on another world. If this was the case, I had every reason to carefully plan my every move. After all, if legend held true, a spilled glass of water had caused the bloodiest conflict in what little we remembered of history.
I had every reason to fear getting out of bed the wrong way; what little we knew of alien customs was incomprehensible. Quickly scanning the room, I found a simple lamp, a standard-looking wooden dresser, a nightstand, and a small mounted mirror.
Come to think of it…
I kicked the end of the bed.
That’s strange, I thought. The elders had told us that we were smaller than most, even when compared to other humans. I supposed I had found an exception, since my slightest movement would hit one end of the bed or the other.
The alien hypothesis quickly gaining ground on the Heaven theory, and a quick experiment occurred to me, though I would have limited resources. I sat up and lifted my pillow as high as I could and gently dropped it. Surprisingly, this crude diagnostic sufficed to give me a clear answer—gravity was considerably weaker here. Nevertheless, despite a presumably smaller planet pulling on me, I still felt somewhat heavy.
Shaking my head I chalked this inconsistency up to fatigue before taking a second look around. This time, I noticed the topmost armoire drawer was ajar, and something blue was sticking out.
Was this an invitation? Were they telling me to get dressed? I checked myself and noticed that I had been changed out of my uniform. In its place was an awful mustard-yellow pair of pajamas with an obscene amount of buttons and an unfortunately placed hole in the lower-back. Tentatively confident in my assessment, I put an uneasy foot on the ground and approached the wardrobe; however, a knock on the door caused me to immediately freeze.
“Umm… hello. Are you up?” Came a voice from the other side of the door.
I had already started digging for ways to make myself understood before it dawned on me: they were speaking an intelligible dialect of Lucens! While adequate as a lingua franca, it had the unfortunate property of requiring different species to mix and match sounds according to their means of articulation. I had to take a moment to appreciate my luck in encountering a version that wasn’t entirely guttural sounds and clicks. Now all that was left was to hope I remembered enough of the language to defend myself. Once the enemy had stopped using it in their communications, the need for us to learn it had largely abated. Fortunately, I’d had a standard greeting drilled into me years prior.
“Greetings. I am Aron of Rhod. Through your good graces, I am here before you and humbly submit to your law and your discretion alike. I beg of you to empower me with supplicatory etiquette, so that I may reflect positively on my people.”
“....What?” the voice replied after several seconds of silence. It was a scratchy voice, reminiscent of one around fourteen.
I desperately fished for a response to salvage my first impression in the face of such a dangerously open-ended remark, but he/she/it saved me the trouble, asking, “Can I come in?”
“I have no objection,” I said, heart pounding as the door creaked open.
Among all the bizarre permutations of alien forms I was certainly not expecting… a pony. In addition to being able to talk in a very human manner, the pony was adorned in polished gold armor no less. He wore a golden helmet that ran along the back of his neck, mouthing out into full armor protection on his back. His tail was an outlandish silver that sharply contrasted with a tan coat.
“Hello, Aron,” he said with a dorky smile. “My name is Trusty Stead. I’m a royal guard here in the palace, and I’ve been asked by Princess Luna to show you around. Canterlot’s a really great place. I’ll give you the full tour!”
For some reason, this pony seemed all too happy with this arrangement. He didn’t strike me as an esteemed diplomat, so I couldn’t help but wonder if tour guides were revered among this species.
I decided to start with something basic: “Is my dress acceptable?”
“There are clothes in there, which you are welcome to use,” he said, pointing to the armoire. “You don’t have to worry about fashion too much, though. Few ponies will judge you for it, and I intend to avoid as much as possible those who would.”
I accepted the invitation, wordless, the stallion watching me as I sifted through the drawer. There was a strange variety of clothing available in an ever stranger variety of colors—a dark-blue bathrobe, a yellow vest in the same shade as the pajamas, a bright-green suit jacket, and even a frilly pink dress near the bottom.
Suddenly, as if just remembering something important, the stallion paled and backpedaled through the open door, muttering, “Take your time…”
I breathed a sigh of relief as another fomenting dilemma solved itself. Years in the training barracks had made me comfortable changing in view of others, but nudity taboos may as well be a coin toss in outside cultures. I gave a frustrated sigh, having almost no foundation for this inter-species interaction. It was just further proof of the urgency to reach the Space Age again; we knew nothing of even our closest alien neighbors. For all I knew, these ponies could be the very race that had once enslaved us.
Let’s just hope I don’t say something that’ll get me executed.
--------------------------------
The pony led me through the cobblestone streets of “Canterlot.” Some of the inhabitants waved, though none seemed to notice or care about my presence.
“And this is Donut Joe’s,” Trusty said. “Rumor has it that it’s the Princess’s personal favorite! Though half of us expect Joe himself started saying that just to drum up some business. But I’d say he makes some pretty darn good donuts if me saying so means anything!”
He then turned about and shot me another friendly smile—if I could project human facial expressions onto these ponies that is. “You’ve been pretty quiet, Aron. Feel free to ask any questions. I’m here for you!” he said for the fifth time that morning.
I had naturally chosen to restrain myself, so far only learning that we were some place known as Equestria. Though I was beginning to grow weary of my excessive caution, it was prudent to continue as long as the slow drip of intel continued. Still, he seemed completely genuine when touring me around this Canterlot city, so I hazarded a simple question in order to appease him.
“What do you do here?”
“Me? Well, I’m nothing too impressive, just a normal guard. Haven’t had the job for three months even. They say it’s easiest for us earth ponies to make the E.U.P., but I’m still pretty proud to be a part of it! We do what we can to protect the princess—not that she needs it, mind you, so we mostly just serve her and keep order. Equestria is a peaceful land, but we still give many ponies peace of mind.”
As he explained, I started to lag behind. Despite the low gravity, every motion felt much more taxing. Naturally, I said nothing about this, but the stallion eventually noticed and slowed down, sitting down on a stone bench and gesturing for me to sit beside him. I plopped down on the bench, trying hard not to look too grateful for the break.
“Again, I’m all ears.” the stallion said, twitching said furred appendages. “Ask me anything at all.”
“What is ‘Equestria?’” I ventured, reasoning that I could play dumb if this proved too prying.
“Good question!” he said, rustling my hair with a hoof.
I sincerely hoped this was normal here.
“A long time ago the three tribes—earth ponies, pegasus ponies and unicorn ponies—couldn’t get along very well. The windigoes fed on this disharmony, and caused a very long winter. The three tribes each set off to find a new land of their own, but all three arrived in the same place. At first, they didn’t get along; however when they learned to live in harmony, the cold, cold winter thawed, and they named this new land Equestria. Today, all three tribes live together under the kind rule of Princess Celestia. She and her sister look after all us little ponies, and guide us along the right path.
After he named the three tribes, I started observing the passerby meandering down the street. A little less than half were wearing clothing of some kind. Closest to us, a pair of unicorns in lace dresses passed, their parasols floating beside them with no visible support.
That’s strange. I thought their technology was about on par with ours.
A look around revealed a cafe filled with mostly unicorns, and the cups and cutlery also floated around on their own, seemingly knowing what was expected of them. Such luxury implied technology above where we once were—and far below where we had been.
Turning my attention back to the street, I tried to pick out the other tribes. The few pegasi who weren’t in the skies above preferred hovering a few feet above, but it took me a while to locate another instance of Trusty’s hornless tribe—perhaps they were the rarest?
My giddy tour guide seemed to have a low tolerance for silence, and half a minute after we had started walking again, he turned and looked at me with a chipper grin. “See anything you like around here?” he asked, gesturing with a hoof between a few vendor carts and the window dressings of small speciality stores. “You’re a guest here, so don’t worry about the price; if you want something I’ll get it for you.”
A landmine! Just as I was getting confident that our cultures were similar enough for me to manage with common sense, he hit me with the deadly blank-check generosity. This one was hard enough to deal with on Rhod, and I had no idea what was considered greedy here, but turning him down could be a bigger affront.
“I… I would like to keep looking around some more.”
“Okay, then! Let me show you the dining district. There’s a lot of yummy stuff there. Follow me!”
We continued along the winding streets, wading through the throng of ponies. I was surprised the constant rumble of hooves didn’t drive these ponies mad. I looked above to a trio of passing pegasi, and I couldn’t blame them at all for wanting to escape it. The fact that they were able to fly at all with those tiny wings further verified my lighter gravity theory. With a little time to accustom myself and recover, I would be considerably more effective on this planet, should things turn ugly.
As the crowd of ponies thickened, the shops became more and more expansive and gregarious—bright hues of every color of the rainbow with some outlandish designs mixed in. One bright purple store had a gigantic replica of a diamond ring on it and sat on a thick black base that turned upward at a ninety degree angle, resembling a jewellery box. Another store had an imitation vinyl record hanging above. It certainly appeared these ponies were not big on subtlety.
Following my gaze, the pony then turned back to me and asked with his usual childlike enthusiasm, “It's a bit early for lunch, so let me know if you want to check out any of the stores!”
Seems like he’s insistent, I thought. Condemn it all!
I searched for the most normal-looking boutique I could find, settling on a geometrical building made of polished wood.
“Is this one okay?”
“Of course it is! Good choice; let’s go check it out!” the pony said.
Surely he couldn’t be this upbeat, but it seemed the guard knew no expression other than that goofy smile of his.
The store was somewhat dimly lit, and the first thing I noted was a rusty set of wind chimes and then a few freakishly large wooden chairs. However, I had no time to think, as a few notes from a trumpet came out of nowhere, and the lights suddenly flicked on. A brown unicorn pony with a short, black mane hopped into view. He slowly began to turn around, and...
We’ve goooooooooooooooooooooooot
Drawers in fours, and shells from shores
Brooms for chores and apple cores
Doors galore and beds for snores
Variety from every pore!
Chairs for bears and flair for mares.
Never will we put on airs!
Pots and pans and cots and flan
Lots and lots of fresh pecans.
Photographs of ancient clans, packaged in installment plans.
Bins n’ pins, and flavored mints.
Spinny things and swimmy fins
Greeting cards for colts and kin
Indulgences for every sin.
We’ve all you adore and much much more, so
Welcome, welcome to our stooooooooooore!
Easel’s Everything Emporiuuuuuuuuuuum!
The suit-wearing stallion scratched his chin. “Maybe I could rhyme it with auditorium... no, that wouldn’t fit. I suppose I could sell tickets to an event in an auditorium, but—Welcome, everypony, to Easel’s Everything Emporium! How may I—wait, where are you going? We’re having a sale today on—well, everything!”
“Sorry. Wrong store,” I said and turned to leave, barely managing to stop the door from slamming behind me.
I didn’t know what I had just witnessed, but its mind-numbing effects put many forbidden nerve-toxins to shame. I didn’t know quite where I had lost it. Between the bizarre items floating in front of the store owner as they were named, the forced rhymes and the kickline of shop assistants singing backup, it was all I could do to collapse on the steps of the front entrance in disbelief.
It—it caught me completely off-guard. For a moment, I was defenseless...
I felt a hoof on my shoulder; it seemed these ponies were big on touching. “Are you okay?” my escort asked. Somehow his closeness wasn’t completely unwanted.
I nodded weakly. “Yeah, I’ll be all right. What was that about?”
“Well, many say Canterlot is the cultural center of Equestria, and we ponies love singing and dancing. Many shop owners have taken up musical numbers to welcome customers, and it seems to help sales.”
“I don’t think I want to go through that again…”
“Okay, how about something to eat? No singing I promise.”
I nodded docilely and followed Stead. It still baffled me that the ponies passing by barely acknowledged the biped that towered over them. I doubted humans were common here.
Unless...
“Excuse me, Mr. Trusty Stead?”
“Yes, my lit—uh—Aron?”
“Are there any other species besides ponies on this world?”
“Why yes, there are Griffons, Zebras, Minotaurs, Buffalo, and that’s just in Equestria. I’ve never seen anything like you before, but I’m sure you’ll fit in.”
Hmm… I guess they are more accepting than I thought. The way things were going, I figured I would be able to ask the questions I really wanted to ask in no time.
Such as when in the blazes I could leave.
Still, it was too early to turn down their hospitality.
The scents came in full force as we rounded the street: apple pie, fresh produce, cinnamon and others I recognized but couldn't place. I mentally crossed off “killed by toxic foodstuffs” from my offworld travel shopping list of concerns. It was amazing how familiar this would was despite the talking miniature horses. I had honestly expected eleven-headed goo monsters or, more likely, cyborgs of some kind.
“Where do you want to eat, Aron?” the pony asked in a singsong voice.
I wanted to gag at the cheeriness. Fortunately, I then caught sight of a veritable oasis in this unfamiliar land, a red-roofed, wooden building with a picture of an overflowing mug next to a sign written in an incomprehensible script. It was the best cure for weariness I knew of, and I saw no need to make an exception here.
“How about there?” I said, pointing.
“Umm… aren’t you… a bit young?”
Having expected as much, I was only a bit perturbed. “I know we Rhods are a little on the short side, but I’m more than old enough.”
“You don’t look sixty to me.”
“I see. Say no more.”
It was an issue I had forgotten. For all I knew, a day could be longer than a century on this planet.
The stallion’s face scrunched up in thought. He seemed to be under duress with some sort of internal dilemma, though eventually he nodded and we moved on. It looked like following his lead would be my best option most of the time.
“I think I know a place we can go,” he said. “It’s a family-oriented restaurant. The activities are more for little foals and may not be up your alley, but I think the food is good enough for anypony.”
I agreed and followed him in silence. My mind was free to wander for a while, and a new appreciation of this world's strangeness dawned on me: talking ponies, bright colors, strange levitation technology, the list went on.
Five minutes later, we arrived at the restaurant in question. It was fairly spacious with a service counter and a dozen and a half tables on the side closest to us. The opposite side, however, was flooded with children. One group of young ponies was tossing beanbags, while another was watching a young, four-legged bird-thing stagger towards a poster of a tailless pony. In the most distant corner, a young mare dressed in a yellow hat was reading to another collection of young ponies. Adding to this the floral pattern wallpaper, I began to wonder if we had walked into a daycare by mistake.
“Welcome to Happy Hayburger!” every employee in the building seemed to shout.
We took our seats, and I noted that the armored pony seemed to sit in an almost human way, but that was far from the strangest thing today. The room smelled sanitized, parents nearby traded gossip. The kid-friendly atmosphere in general was overwhelming. There were no such places at home; there was no place for them. I had to wonder why he had brought me here.
Surprisingly he answered my unspoken query: “I’ve always liked coming here. I brought my cousin’s colt here for his birthday party a while back. I love watching the foals play. I want some of my own some day, if anypony will take me that is.” He gave an awkward laugh before continuing. “I’m an only foal, so I want to have a big family. You know, so they won’t be lonely.”
I didn’t know how to react, so I just nodded and looked away.
The stallion suddenly leaned in and whispered, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Aron. Do you not like me?”
Naturally, I didn't have too high an opinion of the pony soldier, and I feared he would sniff this out.
“No, I just don’t have much to say. I have three brothers, most of them much younger, and an older sister,” I said, before considering how to continue. Fortunately, an approaching waitress saved me the trouble. She had a flowing rose-red mane and a pale orange coat. She carried a pink highchair and was looking around, confused.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Did you see anypony enter with a newborn?”
We shook our heads.
“That’s strange. We just fixed the sensor last month; it shouldn’t be wrong already. That’s what the manager gets for going for the discount detection ward… Anyway, sorry about that. What can I get you?”
I placed an order for a hayburger without hay after a brief discussion verifying the edibility of what would remain. Trusty took a double hayburger and some hay fries as well. Unimpressed with pony gastronomy, I hardened my resolve to negotiate my departure as soon as possible.
The drinks arrived first. Stead, opting for orange juice, had tried to talk me out of coffee. However, I wanted something that could jolt my body into feeling one-hundred percent again. I took a long sip and perked up at the rich taste. It was not what I expected, but very, very good. The creamy texture washed over my taste buds leaving a pleasant aftertaste.
“This is good,” I said. “There’s something… different, though.”
“Could it be the milk or the sugar? I probably should have told that you that restaurants will put them in unless you say otherwise. Most ponies like it that way, after all.
“That’s it. Products derived from livestock are rare luxuries on my homeworld. In fact, don’t think I’ve ever tasted real milk before.” I took another sip, soaking in the taste.
I’ll have to have more of this later. How can it be so good?
The stallion’s smile was the most genuine yet. “I’m glad I found something you like. There are even better coffee shops around I could show you later.”
My smile sunk a little at the implication of being stuck here for much longer, but I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at the messenger. Although he didn’t make a good impression for this nation’s military, he was trying too hard to not earn some credit.
“You were saying you had five siblings. What’s it like back home for you?”
“It’s difficult. We’re essentially fighting a war for our right to even exist. My whole family is involved in the army in some capacity—there just aren’t any other options.”
Trusty looked horrified. “You were forced to become a soldier?”
I shrugged. “It’s what we have to do. Our ancestors originally settled Rhod to practice religious isolationism. It’s a massive world; we only ever settled a third of the surface. To make a long story short, it turns out that this whole time we weren’t alone. The native bearm—”
I stopped.
Should I use their true name instead? I had only spoken the word once after overhearing it, and it had resulted in the second harshest punishment I’d ever received. Then again, if they had heard of the race at all, it’s the name they would know them by.
“—native Ayabna were merely in hibernation for over a millennia, and now, they want us gone.”
I took a long swig. “We ain’t leaving, though. It may be a husk of an arid rock, but it’s our home. It’s us or them. And we will do everything we can to make sure it’s us.”
The stallion’s ears drooped and he looked down. I was shocked he could even call himself a soldier if that alone could get him down. I let the topic drop, and he eventually filled the silence, telling me something about a “cutie mark.” He took off his armor to reveal a dyed patch of fur on his flank that he gestured to at points in the story. He was really into it; to me, it was just a boring story about him filling in as an understudy in his school play. I had zoned out at some point; I didn’t get why he made a big deal out of a temporary tattoo he apparently got as a prize. It was kind of creepy that he would get a permanent version of it, though.
Although, it wasn’t too badly designed, depicting an overhanging light shining down.
The arrival of the food hadn’t done much to slow the one-sided conversation, but it was nice to have a distraction as he somehow segued into another story about a girl he had had a crush on. Unfortunately a hayburger sans hay was little more than lettuce, tomatoes and onion, with some tasteless sauce slathered on.
I heard the door behind me open and turned reflexively to face it. A blond, gray-coated pegasus mare entered with her daughter, a tiny unicorn with a chipped horn. She was practically bouncing on her hooves, running circles around her mother in anticipation.
“Now, Muffin, I want you to take it easy. Your horn needs time to recover.”
“I promise!” “Muffin” blurted out before sprinting over to the activities.
“Come back early so I can rub your ointment on... I don’t want to forget.”
Judging it time to leave, my pony companion pulled out a few shiny coins to hand over to the waitress, and we walked towards the exit. I still would have rather gone to a more mature locale, but all in all, it was better than expected.
Suddenly, I felt a hard thud followed by leftover ketchup splattering , and I tripped face-first to the ground.
Pulling myself up, I turned to spy an enormous blue bull recovering his balance. Large and muscled, he had at least a foot of height on me, and those horns were definitely not for show.
“Watch where you’re going!” he bellowed.
“Me!?” I shouted, standing up. “You stood up after I turned the corner. This is clearly on you.”
“You can’t expect Iron Will to look down and see you, Tiny. I think you owe Iron Will an apology.
Trusty’s pleading eyes insisted I walk away, and my first instinct was to avoid senseless conflict. However, as a soldier of Rhod I couldn’t afford to show any weakness. I needed to demonstrate here and now that I would stand firm.
“I’d like to see you collect on that,” I said, dropping into a fighting stance.
With the weaker gravity, I reasoned I might even be able to win this without channeling my geomancy. My build was actually perfect for our agile martial arts. It wouldn’t matter how strong he is if he can’t touch me. A few precision strikes, and I could probably break bones.
“Your head clearly needs some readjusting if you believe you can get through life just by asserting your size and ego,” I added for good measure.
The minotaur’s eyes flashed red, and for a second I could have sworn they were literally on fire.
“You mess with Iron Will you—uhh—you better make out your will!” he declared, lowering his horns and taking a swipe at me with his left hand.
I jumped backwards barely avoiding it; however, at that moment I knew I had been horribly mistaken. The rush of combat revealed a complete lack of the fatigue I had imagined prior, yet my jump was so weak that I felt myself hitting the ground almost instantaneously. I desperately willed my body to move, but the faster I tried to go, the more it felt like I was trying to swim through syrup.
Intuitively, I slowed my movements down, and this was just enough to dodge my adversary’s right-hook.
It was settled: there no way to do this without playing my trump card. I pivoted on my left foot and stomped deliberately with my right, centering myself and imbibing the energy of the planet. I habitually routed it to the key muscle groups in my legs, shoulders, arms, and chest as well as to my lungs. Seizing the moment of his overextension, I uppercutted the bottom of the minotaur’s extended right arm.
My knuckles crunched as they smashed against Iron Will’s ulna, which may as well have been solid brick. Something had gone terribly wrong. Though I felt the power coursing through me as normal, it felt radically different: rather than the usual river of power that I could dam and redirect at will, this energy was a placid pond whose waters flowed with virtually no resistance.
Time stood still as I cringed in pain, exposed.
Barely bothered by my strike, Iron Will connected with an off-balance kick to my chest, sending me staggering just as Trusty bounded over the tables separating us in order to shield me, causing us to trip over one another and sending me careening into the table of the pegasus mother, where she was obliviously examining an open ointment tube up until I slammed face-first onto the table in front of her, my elbow pressing down on the tube, evacuating its contents onto my head as the world came back into focus with a throbbing pain.
The bull-man start to charge; however, four blurs then sped through the door, tackling him to the ground. It took the combined weight of all of them, just to restrain the minotaur, but eventually he stopped thrashing and let out a sigh, allowing the three stallions and mare relax their hold on him. As soon as he was on his knees, a dress-wearing minotaur calf with gold locks came running and jumped into his arms.
“Iron Will’s sorry about embarrassing Iron Jill like that. Can Iron Jill forgive Iron Will?” he said, stroking the child as he rested his enormous head on her tiny shoulders.
Stead trotted over to me and asked, “Are you all right, Aron?”
“Yeah,” I said, wiping the ointment off my head, “besides getting covered in this stuff, I’m pretty much fine.”
Truthfully, my right hand felt broken, but I wasn’t about to lose face by admitting my attack had hurt me the most. With my good hand, I continued to wipe the ointment away, and as I rubbed a finger across my forehead, it seemed to melt off my finger and sink into my skin.
“I’m sorry about that ma’am,” Trusty said to the blond mare. “I can compensate you for the prescription.” Reaching into a saddle bag at his side he produced some money.
She accepted the coins with a giggle. “I probably would have done something like that myself at some point. My muffin’s horn definitely needs it, though, so thank you. I’m just glad it happened while we were still in Canterlot to get some more.”
“Don’t mention it. Have a good day, ma’am, he said to her before turning his attention to me, revealing the first serious expression I had seen from him. “Aron, I’ll need you to apologize.”
“No, I refuse to blame when there is none. He was clearly outside my peripheral vision when he decided to get up without looking.”
“I doesn’t matter who started it,” Trusty said condescendingly. “Unless you two would rather spend a night in jail for this disturbance, you two should reconcile.
Every fiber of my being protested at this further humiliation, but I forced through a nod. In the end, imprisonment was far too risky a prospect.
Pleased at my acquiescence, the stallion lightly steered me from behind with his muzzle, towards the minotaur. Iron Will, meanwhile was nervously twiddling his thumbs with his tail hanging limply, the calf girl at his side.
“Iron Will is sorry Iron Will yelled at you,” Iron Will began. “Iron Will’s business hasn’t been doing too well, and then Iron Will had to cancel a seminar ‘cause Iron Will’s ex-wife told Iron Will at the last minute to take Iron Jill here out for Iron Jill's birthday, and I guess Iron Will took it out on you.”
It was much more than I had expected from him, but returning the favor was still bitter. “And I’m sorry too. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I lied.
Though the guards looked less than pleased with my side of it, they apparently wanted to end the theatrics, as nearly everyone was now staring. Trusty Stead gestured for me to follow him, and I happily left Happy Hayburger behind.
We walked in silence, back the way we came. At several points he turned his neck back without breaking pace. Each time he would turn his head back, saying nothing. We were nearly back at the castle before he had the courage to finally say, “Don’t you think you lost your temper a bit back there?”
I scoffed. “And you would have me turn the other cheek? I guess that’s the difference between you ponies and me.”
“...I see,” he said.
Only the clopping of hooves on stone steps filled the void of silence.
I was prepared for whatever reprimand they would have; though these ponies did seem to be non-confrontational creatures. Still, my father or any of my brothers would have surely done the same. As the only one of my kind here, I had to stand in for us all. Still, I felt a strange pressure building in my skull. Was it guilt?
At any rate, the pony led me back to the room from before. He said, “The princess will see you as soon as she is available. Please feel free to bathe and change your clothes in the meantime.” I nodded, and he left with a contemplative look on his face.
Finally alone, I sat down at the bed and centered myself. Everything was wrong with this world—its energy refused to fade from when I had absorbed it before, and the headache had grown to be nearly overwhelming. To make matters worse, my vain attempts at fighting through that strange force, had tired me greatly.
Come to think of it, I’m moving better now than I was before. Has the restrictive force vanished?
But I couldn’t pursue that line of thinking, as the pain in my forehead suddenly erupted. I grabbed the throbbing area and writhed on the bed. Quickly the pressure grew to be unbearable, and I felt it focus on a single point, pushing outward. It was all I could do to stuff my mouth with a pillow and scream.
I felt my skin break and a single drop of blood run down my nose. My arm shaking, I brought a hand up to the still weakly throbbing area and ran my hand over it to find a bumpy, bony nub.