A Perfect Day

By: Irongalley

Once upon a time in Ponyville...

I heard the first pony in the wave of colorful creatures before I actually saw it. The little equine gave a shrill cry, somewhere bordering between the sound a boiling teapot makes when ready, and the sound of a pig being butchered, and jumped me.

He sailed for about a meter into the air, eyes closed and legs waving frantically. I would have dodged, but shock and unbelieving made me stare slack jawed. I didn't think of moving to the side; of punching the thing away, or even reaching for my pocket knife. Which, considering, was most likely a good thing.

I remember two things after the first pony collided with me, eliciting a loud oof, and sending me tumbling backwards, making me land on my back with an audible thud.

The first was the pony, shouting madly.

"I've got it pinned guys! Somepony do something!"

While pinned wouldn't be the word I'd use, not more than laying on top of me with all four of its legs being swung and kicking about in a terrified attempt to hit anything, I guess there was some truth in what the little guy said.

The second thing I remember, is thinking how soft their fur was. Right before I was enveloped in a rainbow of furry colors, none the same as the last. My arms and legs thrashed about in futile attempts to keep them off me, but every time I managed to shove one away, two more jumped on top of me, screaming their little pony lungs out and thrashing wildly.

Weirdly enough, I was not getting hurt too much. Neither were they, for that matter. Their hooves were spongey and soft to the touch, unlike horses, and while it did hurt whenever one of them actually managed to land a blow, it wasn't anything worse than a light punch. It also helped that they were hitting each other much more than hitting me.

"Get off me, you things!" I shouted and kicked a mint colored, horned one that was trying to hug my leg. "Off! I have a knife!"

That only set them off louder and stronger than last time. The screaming became high pitched, and the slapping and punching hooves became more frequent and merciless. I was drowned in an endless sea of squealing, kicking ponies. Their soft fur and warm bodies enveloping me completely, barely allowing breath to be had.

"Get... off..." My entire self was soon under the mass of pony. My right hand the only thing visible above them, as if reaching out for help. "I can't go like... not like this..."

A stray hoof connected with my already bruised head, but this one was packing quite a punch. I felt a stinging pain in the back of my head, and everything went black.

I was laying down on a bed when I woke up, the sheets tucked in and the pillow comfortably stuffed and placed. A small candle was lit on a cupboard beside me, and the air smelled of tangerine. I blinked and lifted my head, feeling fresh and rested, as if I had just had the best sleep of a lifetime.

"What... Where am I?" I mumbled and tried to rise, "What the...?" but I couldn't. The bed sheets were tucked in with an iron grip, immobilizing me to perfection. "Oh God no..."

Row after row of little pony eyes stared at me with varying degrees of interest. One of them was sleeping on the floor, while another one looked terrified beyond the grave. The room was rather small, so I had practically no idea how three... Four... Seven... I had no idea how a dozen of them could fit into the same room as I when the bed occupied half the room, and they were still leaving about a meter of space between themselves and me.

"Is it safe?"

"Betty said he wouldn't be able to move..."

"How is the scented candle helping any, Citrus?"

The ponies murmured and talked among themselves, eyeing me oddly all the while. Their varied assortment of colors and tonalities made my eyes sore after looking at them for too long, so I looked at the ceiling instead. The ponies left the room but minutes afterwards, ignoring any attempt to communicate by my part.

Minutes passed, then hours, until many ponies clad in a grey, scaled armor entered the room. They wielded short swords sheathed and attached to their hips. They identified themselves as the local militia, and released me from my bonds.

I tried to talk to them, but they'd kick my shins and stomp on my ankles if I uttered a word. I gave up trying to reason with them after a while, since the armor they wore was not as soft as the hooves beneath.

They tied my hands behind my back with a rope, and pulled me out of the building in silence, hushed whispers following us as I was taken into a carriage.

Imagine my surprise as the winged ponies at the front, these ones clad in golden armor with a crest on the helm, began batting their wings and elevated the chariot into the sky. The militia did not follow, but two horned guards remained inside the chariot with me.

After an hour or so of flight, we reached a gigantic city carved into the very stone of a mountain. I could not help but gawk at its size, and risked asking the guards about it. They did not answer, but at least I wasn't hit anymore.

We landed on a wide and large balcony of sorts, more of a platform. It was devoid of any other carriages, but not of guards. There must have been a few dozens of them, mostly the ones with horns.

We landed and my binds were replaced with iron ones. My captors then led me into a small fortification made from bricks and stone. The parapets and towers were occupied by more guards, and the defenses seemed at the ready. I admired every inch of the fortress. From the walls, to the drawbridge. The moat, and what seemed to be a net that hung between the outer walls and the inner ones. More than likely because of their wings, they'd need a way to prevent an airborne landing.

'Not bad...' I thought as we entered the inner courtyard, and went into a door and up a staircase. Torches illuminated the entire way up, and the small openings used as windows barely allowed the sunlight to enter the cramped place.

The guards kept their silence all the while, and only spoke twice or thrice to identify their unit and rank, as well as their mission. They were apparently, 'Escorting the Prince's Guest'. Not that I'd know anything about that, but it sounded better than just 'Hauling the prisoner, yo!'.

We entered a large room. The walls were carpeted, and the floors were wooden. Large portraits of a white horse with wings and a horn adorned the walls, each one of them having the animal in a different pose, or doing something mundane. The statues that rested close to the walls were roughly sculpted, the same as the paintings. The basic idea could be understood, but the execution was bad.

At least I thought it was bad. Comparing them to the works in museums across Europe, these things resembled my own attempts at art.

A chandelier of gold hung from the ceiling, which was bare. Needless to say, I was not really impressed with their artistic prowess, but meh. I had bigger concerns than critiquing their paintings.

One of said concerns, for example, was the pony sitting on a throne at the very end of the room. Wearing a long, red cape, with a white border, and a coat of arms sown on it. He sat on the throne relaxed and elegant, looking down at us as we approached.

With an eyebrow arched, the one I assumed was the castle's lord, beckoned lazily with a hoof for us to approach. A small crown adorned his head, I noted as we closed in, and his ears were pierced in several places by golden rings and precious stones.

The guards escorting me took a step back as we stopped before him, and he, whoever he was, spoke.

"Tell me of your journey."

I did. Keeping my eyes low and tone neutral, I made sure to stick to the truth, omitting the diamonds of course, and my car altogether, and changing a few things. By the time I finished my tale, he was with both eyebrows arched, and nodding to the beat of my words.

"So you say. The town, now, what happened there?"

Once again, I spoke, trying to appeal to him, and to embellish the story a little, so I did not end up in too bad of a situation. God helps those who help themselves, after all. A lie is harmless if it doesn't hurt anyone, but a lie is actually good if it stops yourself from getting injured as well.

"I see... So the locals attacked you, by a misunderstanding, you say? What was that misunderstanding?"

One lie, two lies, three lies, what's the difference if your neck's on the line?

"A strange manner of greeting someone, especially a foal... Common in your homeland, apparently? Where do you hail from, again?"

Yes, maybe I was not truthful at all with my original tale. No, I'm not a traveling merchant that was robbed on my way here, and I am not the son of a very wealthy family involved in the royal court of a kingdom that doesn't really exist anymore.

"I can't say I've ever heard of the Aztec Empire... Are their borders in close proximity to the Equin sea? Or further inland on the outer continent?"

Maybe I messed up a little.

"Now, can any of these things be confirmed? At all?"

Oh-uh.

"Show me said document."

I rummaged through my pockets for my cousin's letter, praying to God that these things didn't know how to read Spanish, or translate it for that matter.

"Guard, bring me the wizard. Tell him to bring the language sheets for translation."

You have got to be joking.

The guard saluted and left the room, returning after a short while with an elderly unicorn in tow. The gray unicorn had white hairs for a mane and tail, wearing a red robe and pointed hat. He dragged a very heavy looking scroll behind him.

"Ajox, my court wizard, is very skilled in the translation of foreign texts. He'll be able to confirm the language, origin, and motive of this letter, facilitating your welcome to the castle."

The lord grinned smugly, relishing on the certainty that I was well enough doomed. Sweat, cold as ice, had begun to flow from my forehead and around my wavering grin.

'I am a dead man.'

Ajox, the wizard, had finished unrolling his scroll and-

'Holyshittheycanlevitatethingsohmygod.' I had honestly seen too much already to care.

-was holding my letter magically in front of him. He read one and moved on to the other, flicking his head from side to side rather comically, and I gained a faint grain of hope as a confused frown formed on his-

"Ah! I see..."

'I am doomed!'

Ajox read from one to the other many a time, deciphering the text as best as he could. I hoped that Armando's sloppy writing helped foil his task, but in the end, Ajox just smiled proudly and pointed a hoof at me.

"Folly!"

'NOO-'

"This text is not in any foreign tongue. It's written in a very ancient, very, very, very ancient variant of Equestrian. The same as found in the old ruins, my lord."

'Huh?'

The lord glanced at me, a smirk on his face.

"Who sent you?"

I babbled incoherently, trying to worm my way out of problems, but it was a tad late.

"You are no merchant, no traveler, and most certainly no rich son." The lord said nonchalantly, glancing casually at his hoof. "But you might be useful."

He looked up and met my eyes.

"Ajox, take this plebeian with you and some guards up north to Nienrath Castle, meet with Lady Hallety and tell her we found our chance." He smiled. "You'll help me translate the text in those ruins, or you'll be arrested as a spy."

I looked at him, completely shocked and appalled.

Ajox nodded.

The lord dismissed us.

The guards tossed me inside a nicely decorated room with a plate of rich food and some wine, and informed me that I was now a guest inside Derioth Castle and under the orders of Lord Derioth, and that I better not try to leave.

I stood dumbfounded inside the room.

Later that day, I was told that Lord Derioth, of Derioth Castle, had been arrested for treason, and that I was now under the orders of Royal Wizard Ajox, to do as he saw fit. Sadly enough, Royal Wizard Ajox perished due to old age that same day, and I was to go under the orders of Lady Hallety's successor, Lady Anerith, since Lady Hallety had also been arrested for treason.

I took a wedge of cheese and took a big bite.

"The world's gone mad."

Author's Note

I am trying to get to the story fast as possible, guys. This is the prologue, really. I still haven't gotten the main characters into the tale.