Insanity: In Another Life

Chapter 2: Sun and Moon Part 2

Sometimes, dramatically opening a door doesn’t result in a giant white flash. It just results in you awkwardly standing there, which I did my best not to do.

My hosts, who much resembled the two creatures on the carved door, both wore neutral looks. I calmly closed my the door, hearing a small click as the blue pony/horse locked the door with their magic.

My bad, let me describe the two. One was a pure white horse, with a flowing mane of blue, pink, and green. She had a thoughtful, pensive, yet motherly look about her. On the other appendage, the blue horse was like a starry night. She had a buttmark like other ponies, which I could see, unlike the white one. It was black and had a crescent moon. Her mane was like a starry night. She was lounging slightly more casually than the other horse, but had a more neutral look to her. I imagined her as a horse of arts and drink, kind of like a horseworld equivalent of that uncle. You know, THAT uncle. Anyway.

The white horse gestured to a velvety armchair with silk cushions. I carefully sat in it. As I did so, I noticed my knife floating in the grasp of the blue one, who examined it closely, then calmly put it down on a table next to her chair. I resolved that fighting would be incredibly ineffective, especially with their magic advantage.

The white one spoke first. “Hello Duvet, I am Celestia, and this is my sister, Luna. We are the diarchs of Equestria. We welcome you to our home, but first we need to know your intentions.” As if on cue, a tea set complete with everything you’d need to die of diabetes appeared before me. She served the tea to herself and her sister.

“One or two cubes?” She asked.

“Two, please.” I responded quietly.

I received a small teacup full of warm tea. It was pleasantly warm, but not scalding. I drank it carefully, and like a true British gentleman. Without the pinkie extended.

“My purpose here is unknown to me. As far as I am aware, I was conjured here using some kind of magic. I do have a suspicion that my benefactor intended for my use to be military.” I calmly responded, my face neutral. I was nervous under the shell I put up, but I understood forwardness would be key.

This time the blue one, Luna, piped up, “Then you shall be a boon to the crown’s forces, if you would have it. We will promise to protect you from all possible harm, provide lodging, and assist you in returning home. All you will have to do is take care of some favors.”

Celestia looked at the other. “This offer is, of course, refusable. But if you do, I cannot guarantee your safety outside of this room.”

I considered my options. Be vaporized or stabbed right outside this door, or be a servile little bitch. I decided to play along. For now.

“I accept your offer.” A piece of paper appeared before me, with a pen as well. I carefully read the document. It essentially said that I would do whatever the crown required for the rest of my life in this land. I almost wanted to commit seppuku rather than sign it, but unfortunately my knife was nowhere close enough for that. I signed the document using my fake name, Duvet. It appeared to work as intended, glowing and then shriveling up into dust.

I looked around the room at the many shelves of books. I mentally cursed myself out. Why did I get stuck in this fucked up situation. The white one piped up, “Second Lieutenant Valude, please bow before me and repeat after me.” I did so, and promptly was sworn into office as a second lieutenant commissioned personally by the highest authority in this godforsaken land.

“You may rise, officer. Collect your things and report to Captain Nightshade in the lower quarters. You will be escorted by Ser Light to your new posting. You will be required to report and be ready for action tomorrow.” Luna commanded. I barely knew anything and I was being thrust into some kind of black operations shit already. I quickly grabbed my things and stashed them away.

I rose to my full height, saluted, and then promptly exited. In the hall, I noticed a pony in full plate armor, with a sword sheathed at his side. He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. I assumed this guy was some kind of knight. I frowned, deciding to simply go along with it until I could escape. He spoke to me only a few times on our long walk, clarifying and answering many of my questions. Apparently, those buttmarks aren’t tramp stamps, they’re actually an indicator of a pony’s talent. The other questions were mainly about etiquette, my location, and the post I would be assigned to. It was formally known as ‘agent’ but unofficially known as ‘suicidal fucktard’ in essence. The death rate on this post was 99.9%, and it was common for anyone who didn’t have a family or friends to be posted here, as they often died and were disposed of secretively as to prevent the leaking of state secrets. Most who came off this post were insane, arrested for life, killed on the spot, or simply disappeared. I honestly didn’t know which option was scarier.

We arrived in the lower quarter, which was a rank, cavelike place. Large bat pony creatures hung from the high ceiling. In the center of the room we were in, there was a batpony lady dressed in a light battle armor. I approached, immediately saluting. I sounded off like I had a pair, as that usually helped. “Second Lieutenant Duvet Valude reporting for duty, sir!”

The creature circled me like a shark for a moment. “At ease.” The voice was powerful, yet raspy and feminine.

I clasped my hands behind my back and stared straight forward, almost imperceptibly examining my new commanding officer. I had obviously never been in the military, but I had seen Fullmetal Jacket and read up on the military enough to know much of the lingo and acronyms.

“As you are just beginning in this outfit, you will be performing a standard AWOL soldier retrieval operation. You will be dropped off by carriage near the town of Vanhoover. You will infiltrate the town completely covertly and then gather intelligence as long as needed. Your window of opportunity is only around one month and six days, the standard time of an AWOL unit to escape the country or seek asylum. You will not fail.” She promptly sent me off to the quartermaster to recquisition my gear.

I followed some signs that pointed out the way. Thankfully, the barracks was right next to the quartermaster and cafeteria, so I could grab some food. I approached the quartermaster’s small desk area with a cage separating he and I.

“So you’re the poor bastard they put on suicide duty.” The old, grizzled stallion grumbled. His scarred face glanced me over, before plopping on the counter a bit of armor. I examined it. The armor was a grey metallic color, barely shiny, but still clean. It had black highlights, and it consisted of very light plating. There was also a chainmail shirt and pants there, with a black cloth undersuit. The plate armor went over the chainmail and was actually quite comfortable but protective. It didn't impede my joints at all. Along with the armor was a black cloak which reached all the way down to my ankles.

“It’s a bit hot, mainly due to my forging of it mere minutes ago, but it is decently formfitting, I’d guess.” He said, placing a sword with a sheathe and a cloth bag on the counter with my armor.

“Since you’re the new suicidal bastard, you get a few perks and your quality of life is a little better. Pretty much any mare or stallion will want to fuck you, due to the fact you probably won’t live long or be able to tell about it, because you will be in the field most days. Additionally, you will be able to recquisition anything you want so long as it is not too ridiculous. Also, you can order garrisoned troops under your rank without permission from from their CO. There’s a few more things, but if you come back alive from your first mission I’ll mention them to you.” He finally finished. I proceeded to recquisition some extra, very useful kit. Lockpicks, an invisibility potion, some extra rations, a grappling hook with rope, and, surprisingly, a small .38 pistol. The weapon was warned as a prototype and unreliable, but a gun would even the playing field when it came to unicorns.

I headed next to the cafeteria. The food was good, and even included meat. Most of it had shit I couldn’t eat, like oats or flowers. I saved the oats to make oatmeal later, but the rest of the shit I couldn’t eat I left on someone else’s table.

Finally, after a longass day of bullshit, I retired to the barracks. I took the bunk that had the name “suicidal bastard” scribbled on the nameplate. I fell asleep on the surprisingly comfy mattress very quickly.

I had woken up to being knocked the fuck out of bed by my CO, who yelled at me to get dressed. I never put on armor and shit so fast before. I was at attention in less than three minutes minimum.

The bitch essentially yelled at me to hurry my ass up to the castle chariot pool before I was late. I was still tired, mainly due to it being the middle of the night when I was awoken. I grabbed my things, and recquisitioned some additional supplies on the way out, like food and water and a blanket, which I stuffed in my pack.

I was rushed out to the chariot pool by two solar guards, as they are called. The chariot pool resembled one of those capitol buildings with the high domes, except each floor was open for chariots to exit through. According to my escorts, this was used for military use, unlike the main chariot pool.

I was pointed towards a blue black chariot with two bat ponies as the chauffeurs. I entered it and sat down, sorting out my gear. I loaded my .38 revolver and slipped it into a small leg plate’s buckle. I took my knife and concealed it in my armor. I sorted through the supplies in the seemingly never-ending cloth bag, discovering many useful items. For example, I had a set of skeleton keys. The chariot lurched as we slowly took off. No air displaced my hair, probably due to some kind of enchantment.

In the very bottom of my bag, I found a book and a couple of folders bound by twine. Since, somehow, no air whipped through the open chariot, I was able to examine the folders and the book. The book was a book about general information on the races, plants, infrastructure, political leaders, political parties, and other things. It seemed to update about every minute with information, the page glowing and then rewriting itself.

The files, on the other hand, contained useful information about my target. His appearance was unicorn, male, with a blue coat and a dark brown mane with blue highlights. He was known for having a scar that goes from his lower back to his left front leg. His name is Darts. He was a ranged specialist, mainly known for his work with bows and crossbows. His talent mark was a bow drawing back a dart, with a target in the background. He went missing on the thirtieth of August. Today was September 3rd.

I placed the files back in the bag, then rifled through the bag for other things. I found some useful things, but then I found my favorite substance(s) in a medical case included in my bag. Ibuprofen and hydrogen peroxide! Personal favorites of mine as ibuprofen was my go to source of pain relief after a snack, and peroxide was good for removing bodily fluids and their traces. UV light can suck a fat one!

Anyway, I placed my tools back in the bag, then began reading up on general subjects using the provided book. I learned a few key things about my new environs, which would eventually come in handy.

The ride was long, and I had the inclination to sing a bittersweet country song as we passed over rolling fields and pastures. A farming village or two came under my gaze. I think I even saw a tree being used as a domicile as we flew over. I had a feeling I would be seeing or going to that place sometime later.

I think I should take a moment to talk about myself for a moment. Myself before all this. I was a normal kid with grand dreams. I wanted in the world for myself to find peace, a place as close to heaven as I could find. I dreamed, to no avail, to visit the rolling fields and mountain air of Virginia, see the rural places of the coast of Nova Scotia. I wanted to find that beauty and culture and preserve it beyond what a simple photo could. I wanted to develop a way for people of small standing to experience a small slice of peace in their lives.

But alas, poor pretentious retard, we knew ye little. I had no way of doing that now, so far away from home. As far as I am concerned, my only goal is to survive.

I continued reading.

Author's Note

Right now, I care little about likes or dislikes. I am ignoring the ratio in favor of the ratio of positive to negative comments.

This brainshit is sponsored by Merle Haggard.