One month. One month trapped in fetid darkness with nought but the barred slit for a window and burning torch past the bars to illuminate this place. I can only tell how many days have past by counting, each and every day, the thin blade of light that cuts through the window in the morning, ending the night.

I sit slouched against the cruel stone wall, the iron band latched to my ankle connecting via chain to the very same wall. The ragged "shirt" (more of a short tunic) is loose and thin, barely keeping the heat of my body from being sapped away by the dungeon. A couple splotches of dry blood spot the area of the cloth at my neck, evidence of the time that had passed since my last interrogation.

Every so often, a guard will wander down the corridor outside my cell, will look in at my face before turning back forwards. Even after being here for some time, these creatures are still taken aback by me.

My captors are small horses. At least, that is what they resemble. They are nothing like the ones of my world. Their proportions are off and their size is puny. And I have no memory of horses glaring at me from my world.

They've questioned me repeatedly, and have alluded to me coming here on purpose as some sort of scout for an invasion. I told them that I didn't even know I would go to another world all together, let alone this one in particular. But they weren't satisfied that I wasn't an enemy. They even got their captain down to question me, who was the worst. Thanks to him, I have more bruises and cuts than I started here with.

You wouldn't think such cutesy creatures could do much damage, but those hooves are like fists. The dull aches left in my arm and leg are a testament to that.

He demanded to know who I was, and I just said that "my name is Richard, I don't know why I'm here", but he kept asking what rank I was in whatever invading army was coming. I kept telling him I wasn't even in the army, but he just smacked my face and repeated the question. But I could never answer.

I only remember waking up in this cell, so I must have appeared in this world unconscious. So I have no idea how they could have seen a sleeping person without any weapons or armour as such a major threat.

I can tell how they look at me when they walk by my cell, that they have no intention of letting me walk free. I haven't broken any law that could ever deserve a life sentence, but my mind sometimes wanders to what if they intend for the life sentence to be replaced by a worse punishment.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves on stone echoes down the corridor. Just from the hardness of the steps, you can tell someone stern is approaching. Leaving my head hanging down, my knees up and my arms wrapped around them, I hear the lock for my cell open with a "click".

A shadow casts across my eyes, and my vision becomes darker. Lifting my dull blue eyes upwards, I stare with no expression at the captain. He looks down at me, pale blue eyes glaring icily into my lifeless blue. He stands over me, chest pushed out, his four hooves held on the ground firmly. A mane of light and dark blue stripes hangs over his brow as he looks down on me.

A red coat of sorts obscures the fur on the front half of his body, a brown belt keeping it stiff on his waist. Some sort of white harness on his chest embroiled with a pink star, the same from the tattoo on his flank. Such an outfit would look whimsical in another situation, but in the dim light of a dungeon it looks more outlandish.

"Because I'm a fair guy-" His lips part into a dark smirk as he says "fair" and my wounds ache as evidence of past "fairness". "- I'm going to give you one more chance to give up the information of your superiors". He finishes, seeming to loom over me more.

My lips stay sealed, unable to give the answers he wants. After a moment of silence from me, his smirk turns to a snarl as he lifts his hoof to bring it down on my once more. My head snaps to the side as his hoof connects to my cheek, making spittle fly of my lips and onto the stone, my vision blurred for a moment. Mouth open and blood dripping from a cut in my cheek, I look back up at the abuser. His snarl as twisted back into a smirk as he revels in my torment, lifting his hoof back up to deliver another.

"Sir." Speaks a monotone voice from outside the cell. Halting the strike, the captain turns around to face the newly-appeared guard. He wears the typical golden armour that they all seem to wear, with the plain white fur visible beneath the plates.

"Yes?" Asks the captain impatiently, seemingly wanting to return to the beating he wanted to give me.

"The ceremony is ready to begin." The guard finishes, before saluting and wandering off somewhere. The captain sighs with disappointment, walking forwards slightly before turning his head menacingly to me.

"You can wait here until after the wedding, and we can begin disposing of you." He says almost in a whisper, but purposefully loud enough for me to hear. He turns his head back around and makes to leave entirely.

A voice rings out in the darkness of the cell. A hoarse sound more akin to the sound of gravel rolling over hard ground. The traces of seeping from my cracked lips like a faint wind in a graveyard. The words would scar time, and seal the fates of many, without me knowing.

"It may not be in this life..." I say, voice a ghostly whisper. The captain turns with a slightly puzzled expression. He looks to ask what I said, but I continue before he can. "...but no matter what, I will have my revenge. You will all pay for what you've done." I finish, head finally hanging down as a feeling similar to my soul being sapped away by my own words takes over.

Silence reigns over the dungeon as he processes my words, before he finally breaks into laughter. He looks at me, ragged and beaten, and cannot fathom what vengeance I could carry out in such a sorry state. Turning around, he continues his exit without a word spoken. His horn lights up with a pale blue glow, and the lock is replaced on the wooden cell door.

Left in silence, I can only question my words. I had nothing left to lose by saying them. What would be different had he reacted angrily? The only scenario I can imagine is that he would probably have had me die sooner. But why keep my mouth shut just to live for another hour or two in fear of the coming end? No, I would rather it be over and done with. A month of suffering has already been endured.

I bring my dirtied hands together, and give silent prayer for a peaceful departure from this hellish place.

Author's Note

This story's beginning was inspired mainly by the start of "Not What I had Expected" (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/155432/not-what-i-had-expected) by Frosthowl (https://www.fimfiction.net/user/94056/Frosthowl) A new chapter hasn't been released in years, unfortunately.

Regardless, the starting point is really the only piece inspired by another writer's work. I intend to have my own timeline of events following this point.

Thank you for reading.