Waking up, the first thing I noticed was that the temperature of my room was quite a bit higher than it was when I had went to bed that evening. Not quite ready to get up yet, I turned over running a hand along my pillow so as not to be left to the vile malice that would be gravity forcing my head to part the small distance between resting position and mattress. Normally, I would have then continued to stay in bed for a while longer,contemplating things that I would have to do the next day, recreational or otherwise. Normally, my pillow is not made of silk, despite my aspirations. The temperature change was not enough to cause myself any true concern, due to the way in which a bed is always warmer when you have to leave it’s cocoon-like embrace, however a change in pillow is another matter completely. It dawned upon me in those few moments after my discovery that not only would someone have to sneak into my room with the new pillow, they would also have to replace the pillow without waking me.
I hope you can see why my eyes soon darted open, slowly adjusting to the light. Already searching for my bedside table in order to retrieve my glasses, I came to another discovery, one which filled me with dread, one which even with my short sight I could see quite plainly…
This was not my room.
Barely remaining calm, I saw out of the corner of my eye, the object of my earlier search, or at least a more pale imitation of a bedside table, on which was perched several objects, but I took no notice of them as I recognised with a start, an object which had been with me for less than a year and yet I would never leave home without, my glasses. A subtle affair of two open bottom lenses, held on by a oynx black band, cut onto the ends with a granite textured end. Hurriedly, I put them on, quickly looking around the mystery room, my mind full of questions.
The room was no small affair for what I assumed was a kidnapping or a very bad prank. With tall walls of what looked like polished marble, there were two windows on two of the walls, currently they were covered by embellished curtains. Large pillars stood at every corner of the room, adorned with a design of purple rings at the bottom with a swirl of lavender connecting the two. The ceiling was similarly impressive with it’s decoration, with swirling, seemingly hand-crafted patterns of purple and white creating a chaotic mess at first glance but then revealing the intricate designs contained within. The floor was a gleaming expanse of polished marble tile, reflecting the room and creating an impressive illusion. The room was furnished by the bed, bedside table, a chair and desk set-up and a sofa. At that moment, my thoughts only glimpsed over the details before making for the part of the room which promised freedom from this room and perhaps a chance to find the person who owned this property and then finding out from them, exactly why I woke up in a different room to the one I went to bed in.
The door barring my path was a double door with wonderfully ornate pull handles, shaped into what I could only assume to be the form of a majestic unicorn bursting from the door, the wood panels themselves that formed the centre of this portal was carved with designs focussed on the centre of each quarter. The problem I encountered was the simple problem of the lock, a ornate keyhole. Pushing and pulling on the door had no effect, not to be outdone, I dashed to the windows pulling the curtains of the first one I came to apart.
The view that greeted me is one that I shall remember always, I had heard people say things like “New York seen from the Queensboro Bridge is New York seen for the first time,” but that had nothing on the sheer amazement I felt when I looked down upon I now know to be called Canterlot. I had to stumble my way to the bed to absorb all that I had seen. If you asked me to describe it now, I would tell you of it’s white glistening towers which hold the promise of fresh starts for the damned and rewards to those who helped create the harmony on which it’s homeland runs.
If you were to ask me back then at that moment, I would have told you none of that, indeed I might not have even commented on the city itself.For as majestic and beautiful as Canterlot was and still is, that was not what captured my attention. As I remember I made my mind set quite clear, by simply uttering a few words, words which spoke of my sheer confusion and desperation in the face of the unknown, “What the FUCK were those.”
You see my attention was not on the city itself, but instead on the inhabitants of that city. I saw small horses, which while musing for a while on the bed I decided were Ponies, with either wings, a horn or nothing at all. The ponies or as they are scientifically known “Equis” are divided into three groups or tribes. First of all there is the Unicorns, this group all possess a horn and the ability to use magic, in the form of spells. There is a trade-off in physical power due to the body devoting more of it’s energy into creating the “mana” on which a unicorns magic runs on. The next group are the Pegasi, these are blessed with wings and the ability to fly under their own power, again they won’t be extremely strong due to the use of energy in the wings. Finally, we come to the Earth group. These ponies hold no special abilities and as such they are commonly stronger as no energy is devoted to mana or the wings. The commonly held belief that they are inherently good farmers is nothing more than a rumor started among the unicorn elite.
Anyhow, after collecting myself from realising that I was no longer in England, I made sure to make note of the height of my prison in relation to the ground beneath the window, long story short I would not be leaving that way. It was as I was pondering this that I heard the large doors swing open and whirling around on the bed, I studied my visitor. This pony was not like the ones I had seen outside, primarily in the fact that she had both wings and a horn, it was then not a large jump to assume that she would hold some position of power. She had a pure white coat, colour matching the vast majority of the walls, floor and furniture. Her wings were long, although at the time this was a hesitant observation as they were currently folded at her sides, her horn was most assuredly long, protruding from her head. Finally was the regalia that she wore, made of gold and jewels, it must have been very costly.
Waiting patiently, the pony allowed me to make these observations before speaking in a regal, yet almost motherly tone, “Good morning, I was hoping you would have tea with me,” At this point my faint grip on sanity left me when a huge, horned “horse” came into my room and invited me to tea. It is for this reason that I started laughing like a madman and turned away from her and went back to sleep.
