Legends of Equestria: Rocky Road to Hayseed Swamp

by The Blue EM2

In the House of the Rising Sun

It was a while before I recovered my consciousness, and all was very dark at first, followed by everything in my eyesight being incredibly blurry. The room in front of me was a featureless, confusing fuzz of nothing, with random colours and lights revolving in and out. It was rather like I was on a merry go round, but I didn't know of any merry go rounds that featured such odd colours or such loud voices. And why were there folk instruments playing in the background? I'm certain that there was a hurdy gurdy somewhere in the sound mix. That was not a usual combination of instruments.

"Oh, my head," I groaned, as I got up, and immediately fell over. I soon found out why. That incident of becoming a horse hadn't been a horrible nightmare, but in fact reality. My vision had returned to normal, and there were large numbers of ponies in this room, full of chairs and tables, complete with many rows of tankerds waiting to be filled with what I assumed to be beer or ale. The sight of alcohol wasn't helping my constitution either. I still had a thumping headache, and my thick tongue revealed I had crooked, misshapen teeth. I trotted forward, trying to raise a concern with another pony.

"Hello?" I asked them, a giant stallion who looked as though he could flatten mountains with his rippling forelegs and mountains of muscle.

"What brings y'all here?" he asked. "Not often that we get Griffish ponies around here, ya know? Ah didn't see ya none before? What's yer name?"

"I'm Stygian," I said, "and I must have collapsed somewhere over there, as this is the first thing that I can recall in any detail. I must have been in a fuddle and tried to huddle by the griddle, but I slipped in a puddle and the world went reeling."

"Puddles are nasty," the pony admitted. "Be glad ya weren't called by the fiddle ta the middle of the muddle."

Why were we suddenly quoting Tolkien? It seemed as if this night was simply going to keep getting stranger and stranger. But I held my nerve. "Stay calm, Stygian," I said to myself. "There's always a light at the end of the tunnel, assuming that light isn't an oncoming train." I was fully aware of my weakened state. I seemed to be a small, frail unicorn, with little magic and no idea of either what my body was capable of or where I was in the world. Not even the air conditioning fans could help me figure out where I was, as most of the United States and Canada had air conditioned buildings (that, or copious amounts of ice or massive ceiling fans, like the ones you see in Old West movies).

We spoke with one another for a while, until I suddenly heard some previously hushed voices become raised. Two ponies had begun to argue with each other, but their accents made it almost impossible to understand. Just as the drink that the other pony had ordered arrived (he bought me one, which I thought was very nice), it became so heated that it turned to blows. One threw his leading hoof at the other, which turned into a return blow, and then the other pony hit back, and so on and so forth until one grabbed his chair and smashed it over the other pony's head.

Somehow, the chair broke, not the other pony's head. But they weren't happy, and they slammed the beer glass down and it shattered into pieces. A huge number of other ponies charged in and began brawling. Bricks, planks of wood, and flying glass shards flew everywhere. One pony was thrown through a table and crashed into it. The table disintegrated upon the impact, indicating it was rather cheaply made.

Another flew through the bar and went sliding onto the floor. Beer kegs went rocketing through the air like missiles, exploding upon impact and drenching those brawling in alocohol. All the while ponies continued to be catapaulted all over the place by patrons and brawlers alike. My new friend had even joined in on the fun, although I had no idea if he was having any success.

I concluded that, as a scrawny unicorn, I had no chance of fighting them off, so I finished my drink and galloped for the door. I went through it, and out into the cold night sky. I looked up, and then realised where I was. I was in a city I had been in many years earlier, as a human.

New Orleans.

"How did I get from Nottingham to New Orleans?" I asked myself. "There's no chance I could have flown there. Was I perhaps teleported here after that fog incident?"

I had little chance to think or even dwell on that, however. Above me, I suddenly noticed that there was something overhead that would be rather concerning if simply left alone. Above me was a building that was still under construction. The pylons and beams were still visible, and much of the superstructure and cladding looked insecure, to put it mildly. I was trying to understand how this building was still standing, when suddenly there was a loud bang, followed by a series of even more loud bangs. As I looked up in shock, the building started to collapse above me, and then began to fall downwards towards my location!

"Good Heavens!" I cried, and galloped as fast as I could towards the edge of the area as I could. I darted across the road, a streetcar slamming its brakes on and screeching to a halt to avoid hitting me, as more masonry and rubble crashed onto the road and the rails in front of it. Most of the structure toppled to the bottom of the canyon of urban buildings, totally blocking the street and rendering it impossible for anything to pass by the mountains of rubbish now blocking the area off from the rest of the city.

"Somebody wants me dead," I panted, and sped off down the street as fast as my little legs could carry me away from the looming danger. Up ahead, there was a turning, and I ignored the shouting from humans and ponies alike as I made my way towards the turning. I skidded round a left hand bend, narrowly dodging a lady who appeared to have gotten lost on her way to a Gone with the Wind reenactment, and then dived into a bush to let some humans walk by, who seemed totally nonchalent about everything happening in New Orleans tonight. First a pony bar fight, now collapsing buildings? I hardly imagined this was a typical night on the town around here. Once they were gone, I made my merry way towards the edge of the Jackson Square district. The place was quiet, barring for the odd scammer and a few people who had apparently blown their minds out in a car (and not noticed that the lights had changed). Once I reached the edge of the water that marked the boundary of the Mississippii River. Sitting on the water's edge was a boat. I dived into it, and then I realised something. I had no idea how to use magic or anything of the sort, not being used to being a unicorn (I had only been one for three hours at best, so that was mildly peturbing).

My horn suddenly illuminated, and gribbed the two oars that sat on either side of the boat. And the two oars suddenly began to row, row, row the boat, gently across the Mississippi. The boat flew along the water and bounced up and down on the small waves being made by passing tankers and other watery vehicles. Life could not be said to be a dream at that moment. More like a nightmare from which I couldn't wake up.

It was quite the perilous crossing, I can tell you, good reader. I floated and rowed for what felt like hours, but at long last I reached the other side. It was hear I realised I had another problem to face. On the other side of the water was nothing but a giant maze of bayous and swamps, which I had no clue how to navigate. As the saying goes, I had hopped out of the frying pan and jumped straight into the fire, and yes, make your Jeff Buckley jokes.

I had to find civilisation in this tangled mess of trees, swamps, and alligators big enough to swallow cars whole. I headed onwards, through the dangling routes of trees and hard to navigate masses of wood and rocks, hoping I wouldn't trip on anything as I went along the way towards what I hoped would be my salvation.

Little did I realise, I was being shadowed. But I paid that no heed as I tried to make my way through the tangled mess of roots.

Author's Note:

The hurdy gurdy is a Medieval instrument built around a wheel and mechanical strings. Known for its melancholic, haunting sound, I thought it was a perfect fit for Stygian.

Comments

[JimmyHook19]

And so begins Stygian's journey :3

[The Blue EM2]

10624722
Bloody hell, you read that lot quickly!

[JimmyHook19]

10624723
Heh =3 Well Moonlight was online recently, so I had to made sure I provided it before Moonlight did. ^^

[The Blue EM2]

10624725
I can understand the logic behind that. I'm currently waiting on that.