Have you ever sat across from a horse that was looking at you in wonder, while drinking tea? Of course not, it is a completely bizarre notion which is only found in fiction, a land of make believe where the humble author scribes out situations which could never happen in real life due to either social, cultural or physical restrictions. An example of this would be a thrilling, daring and heroic novel where a single man averts a deadly terrorist attack on, oh I don’t know, the Bank of England. In real life he’d have been shot and killed by the first guy with a gun.
Unfortunately, it has been made quite clear to me that this fiction has become part of my reality, as evidenced by the walking, talking horse sitting on the other side of a very nice marble table, with one of those brilliant glass tops where you can see underneath. Alright, it may be unfair to call her a horse, the following name has been supplied to me by the most regal and condescending Princess Celestia, that word is Alicorn.
I’m sorry, I just realise that I've gotten quite ahead of myself, you see this is no ordinary horse, this is a horse with a horn and wings. The wings are feathered with what looks like marble, however it is simply the normal colouration which these beings seem to have so distinctly assigned to them. As expected the wings are fully functioning, allowing the bearer to fly and I myself had seen some flight mad ponies, dashing through the clouds as I was dragged to this meeting. The horn is also quite spectacular, not due to the ornate nature of the appendage as it rises from the head, with a ring around it every few inches or so. No, the reason I call it spectacular is from their abilities, abilities which to this day still amaze me in both their power and versatility. Abilities which are straight out of what used to be fiction…
Magic.
The first time that I bore witness to this great and, perhaps, terrible power is when I first arrived in this world, not two hours before this meeting that I have been avoiding describing for so long now. That magic was used against me after a act of desperation whereupon I tried to sleep through this nightmare and return home to my flat. That was telekinesis they used to tear me from my bed and drag, well more float, me to the table with a nice glass top.
I have since been informed of many other types of magic, from the staples of all magic in fantasy Teleportation, Fire, Ice, the aforementioned telekinesis, to more unusual types where you can’t really think of a use for it outside of certain situations, for example, a spell which takes these tiny pests and stops them from eating food, considering the amount of food that those things ate that would usually be a good thing. However, this spell had a very dangerous side effect, to be blunt, it made them eat anything, the ponies, as their species normally term themselves, affected by this incident were lucky to have not been nibbled on themselves. I did have the grace to meet a few of them, but that's another story.
I really should start getting around to describing that meeting, but first I think I shall allow you to visualise the area in which it took place. The table, quite obviously was not the only thing in existence and so I shall start by telling you that it was outside, a small courtyard with the castle behind and a balcony giving a brilliant view of the bustling, pristine, very white city below, a view permeated with equal parts mountain, thatch roofs, ponies and the dazzling afternoon sky. This courtyard was decorated with glistening ponds dotted around, each with their very own statue depicting some fallen war hero or another, given how long this country has been at peace, over 500 hundred years, you can imagine how old some of these were. Not to let that say that they were not well maintained, in fact quite the opposite, while the age says five hundred the appearance says ten. There were trees and grass appearing every so often, burrowed into the tiles, if you just pluck some from any old ancient Greek setting, I would be quite pressed to find a difference.
The view of the castle itself was stunning with towers running from the sides and with most of the windows being stained glass, when the sun shone just right it would create the most unimaginable light, creating an atmosphere which I would never hasten to even attempt to recreate. In fact, now that I think about it, I think that my little mentions of fiction at the beginning were very suitable, for I could not think of any other place where I would, where I could find this. So, you can think of my slight awe when I met the person, who owned and had helped oversee its original construction, yes I did mention that it was several hundred years old, I’ll get onto how the hell she survived that long later.
But I have been putting this off for too long, it’s time for you to know what happened. I was being floated through those pristine corridors, sent into the courtyard and placed in the seat, as the horse had promised tea was awaiting my arrival, it was too sweet, I threw it away. That was when our Builder, Architect and Alicorn arrived, the white horse whose name I’m sure I mentioned at least once, no matter, I shall say it again for I hold no fear of it. Her name is Celestia, Princess Celestia, one of two diarchs who rule over this land. She sat down and acted I was some schoolboy who needed teaching, at the time I was rather frightened of the one who held my life in her hands and so I said nothing.
I was asked what I would like to do since I was now there. This can be a hard question, dumped into some impossible world, not given time to get my bearings, here I was being asked what I would like to do, as if I had merely gone to Spain for a holiday. Regardless, for me this question was quite simple, while some people might have used this for a fresh start, an escape from some tragedy, I was simply happy to pick up where I left off, as a writer.