A Different World

"Child... what have you brought home this time?"

I shifted slightly beneath the canvas that covered me. I felt the rough planks of a cart, I assumed it was a cart, as well as some tightness from bandages wrapped about my appendages. I couldn't get a very good look in the dim light, it was a very thick canvas, but something felt off. Like I wasn't even in my own body anymore.

"Mother, please, keep it down," the other being spoke in a hushed whisper. "We mustn't let the neighbors hear us."

I don't think I was restrained. Was I being smuggled somewhere? Huh, just like old times... or... was that war just a nightmare? Oh, heaven above and the mightiest powers, please. I don't want to wake up to that nightmare. But... I knew it was too good to be true. I kept silent, trying to find clues as to my situation.

"I sent you to Canterlot weeks ago, Marigold," the mother hissed. "You were just supposed to buy a new machine and purchase the new brand name."

"I did," the daughter, Marigold, defended herself. "I just got a little side-tracked on the way back home."

"Canterlot's only a few days journey away. What could possible add so many extra days? Did you get drunk at a tavern?"

Now that my eyes were adjusting somewhat... crap, I felt like I'd been asleep for a very long time... I could see little beams of light where there were holes in the canvas. I steadied my breathing as I lifted my head ever so slightly to look at the contents as best I could.

Last time I was hiding in a cart, it was full of guns and ammo that me and my friends were smuggling into a small Afghani village to fuel the revolution against the tyrannical regime. Lots of the cool Israeli stuff too, top shit. If we had succeeded, we would have a sure shot at taking over Palestine. It kind of went down hill though... but we still won... in a way.

Hmmm. Tubes, some sort of metal machine, and brown paper packages tied up with string... darn it, I have to... these are some of my favorite things... okay, done now. And bottles. They had words on them... words couldn't read. That was worrisome. They didn't even look familiar. Crap. This was not good. But... I could understand the language.

Was this some sort of code?

"Of course not," Marigold protested. "You know I hate alcohol."

Prude.

"Then what's in the cart?" the mother demanded, sounding closer now.

I took a deep breath. This could go south really easily. I could be the middle of a fortress, surrounded by guns, or in the middle of a city where people could see me. See me. My face was very valuable. I could be in front of a secret police station, or just regular police. Either was bad. And I don't think I had any guns within reach. Not that that would have mattered. I couldn't seem to feel my hands.

"Have you read the papers recently?" Marigold asked, also sounding closer.

"Are you referring to that sensationalist tripe about a male alicorn that can talk?" the mother huffed in annoyance. "Don't tell me you believe that garbage."

"Mother, I saw him," the daughter cried. "I served him gelato. He... he was real."

"Smoke and mirrors," the mother groaned. "Honestly, child. As if a stallion could talk, much less be an alicorn. Now, show me what you brought home. It had better not be another dog."

"But you love Snuffles," Marigold said sarcastically.

"Yes, she's a good dog," the mother admitted. "We just don't need another responsibility while we're just starting out in the new business."

"Well, what I have here will help fix our finances, mother," Marigold said in a smug voice.

Great. Just what I needed. Someone was trying to make it rich off of me. But, I had been given amnesty. So... that reward was nulled… right? Damn it. I hate politicians. Nothing but a load of crooks and liars. If I get out of this I was gonna...

Suddenly the canvas was yanked away and the sunlight beat down on my body. Damn it, I was blind. Flashbangs have nothing on that celestial orb of fire and hate.

"Oh my Celestia," the mother cried in a gasp.

"Think it's just sensationalist now?" Marigold asked in a voice that just dripped smugness.

"Did you kidnap the princesses' consort?" the mother cried in horror.

"Of course not," Marigold said. "Though, it seems you read the papers anyway."

"Well, of course," the mother huffed. "I have to keep up on the latest gossip. What would your aunties think?"

The daughter snorted. "Anyway. The prince is blue. Really blue. This stallion's obviously more yellow. And his mane's white. How cool is that?"

My eyes opened wide. Stallion? What? I quickly rose to ta seated position. This made they two ladies scream in terror. It was then that I got a good look at everything.

Fuck. This was trippy. I was a horse. So were the two ladies. Well, humanish horses that is. Mottled brown and white mares with hands... and hooves where their feet should be. Alright... and I seemed to be a regular horse... save for the wings... and horn.

Hmmm. the ladies were more interesting. I looked back at them. They wore simple homespun dresses... and were rather buxom. Ooh-la-la. Shut up, they're female and sapient, obviously. And probably of legal age too. Hey, I'm a gentleman.

Our surroundings were... countryside. empty fields of emptiness, with forest in all direction. And their house appeared to be a windmill. Old classic Dutch. Neat. Hmmm, was I... stronger than them? Again, I'm a gentleman, get those thoughts out of your head. I just needed answers.

I appeared to be bandaged... I was obviously in a big fight. Couldn't quite remember where though. I needed answers. And I knew just how to get people to talk, especially the ladies.

I flopped onto my side and began crying. "Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I was lost forever. I'm so cold and ever so hungry, could you fair ladies help a poor ma... stallion out of the goodness of your hearts and give me a blanket and some food. I promise I won't eat much. I can even sleep outside if that makes you more comfortable."

And, just like that, they were putty in my hands... hooves. Though, there was a lot of screaming. Within a night, I learned all I needed to know about this world.

And... Selfen Surt was still alive.