Knight's Promptby Mister HypotheticalChaptersChapter 1: AwakeningChapter 2: New DiscoveriesChapter 3: Waking up in Someone Else's BedChapter 1: AwakeningChapter 1 -- Awakening -- "Hhhhnnnngg, eh!" Deep within the depths of the Everfree Forest, where the tree canopy shed little to no light, and where the little woodland creatures dare not go for fear of their own survival; a murmuring could be heard. A moment later, a faint stirring could be heard as well, as if a lost timberwolf pup had found a precarious pile of the fallen fall leaves to roll around in. Then, the stirring grew, it began to emanate through the forest, calling to all that could hear that something was moving through the low-hanging vines, and brush. "What the hell happened last night?" The creature asked through the darkness of the most shaded region of the forest. This creature's name was Folan, he was a grad student from the University of Maine, attending his fifth year by the end of the summer. As a final party before the end of the summer, he and his friends decided to throw one of the biggest they've ever had. That's the last thing that he could remember, and it was starting to drive him crazy. Getting up, Folan tried to get on his -- hopefully -- good two legs; however, when he tried to put his weight on one of the limbs, the joint unceremoniously bent backward. After screaming his lungs out for the next twenty seconds, he leaned back and inspected the leg. Though, upon trying to grasp the broken appendage, another bout of screaming commenced as he realized he had no fingers to do so with. "Okay! Okay, calm down!" Maybe it wasn't as bad as it felt, perhaps his hands were just paralyzed or asleep! Yeah, that's what it was, he must have slept on them the wrong way, and the feeling would return any second now. However, instead of feeling returning to his fingers, he only became more acutely aware of the immense lack of any apparent feeling. Deciding that staying in a shady, mist-ridden forest that seemed entirely foreign to himself was a bad Idea, he chose to start crawling, as his legs wouldn't be of much help. Aside from the thick numbness that enveloped the tips of his extremities, Folan found crawling to be astonishingly simple, as if walking on all fours was to be preferred by his body. Relenting to his curiosity, he moved to put weight on his injured leg; unsurprisingly, the limb once again bent in the exact opposite direction to which it was supposed to. Nonetheless, it seemed to be holding, so instead of putting all his weight on his feet, he shifted to place most of it on his forearms, and hands. They too, bent out of place, he was starting to notice a theme. Getting a feel for his limbs, Folan moved with a purpose, putting one extremity after another. First, his right hand, then his left foot, then his left hand, then his right foot. Feeling like an infant learning to walk for the first time, He moved his legs faster, getting into a rhythm. Still not being able to see, Folan soon found himself face-to-face with one of his most feared enemies; one so cruel and daunting that it could instill terror in the most intrepid of people. A tree. After spitting out the leaves of the overgrown vegetable, Folan made his way through the thicket, careful to swipe of the more thorny bushes out of his way with his numb hands, he would deal with the pain later. As he made his way to an open clearing, enough light shown through the canopy for him to make out the remnants of a long-forgotten dirt path cutting straight through the forest. And through the darkness shown a dimly lit hole surrounded by splatters of white, yellow, and orange. It looks like he had found the way out. He staggered forth with a new sense of excitement and desperation, getting to see more and more of the forest as he crawled, one thought kept ebbing at the edge of his mind. That he did not recognize this wooded area in the slightest. The woods in Maine are immense, but he would never go into a forest that he didn't know; inebriated, or not. 'What the hell is this place?' Thought Folan as he walked along the rough and disheveled path through the forest. "What the hell did I do last night?" He asked out loud, too far lost in his own train of thought to care for whatever overheard him. He was nearing the edge of the forest now, all the was between him and the outside, was the treeline. Pushing his way past the surprisingly rough patch of vines and shrubs; he stumbled through and saw the most beautiful sight that had ever grazed his half-drunken mind. He was not on the border of a forest grotto like he had thought. Instead, he was on the edge of a cliff overlooking what seemed to be a lush countryside. The hills appeared to roll on for miles, topped with thick rows of trees laden with bright orange and red fruits ready to be harvested. Over the orchards, lay a wondrous town filled with buildings of all shapes and sizes converging at an other-worldly centerpiece. The castle stretched a mile into the sky, cutting the heavens to ribbons with each of its jagged crystalline spires. In the far distance, cut into the face of a mountain, rested an ivory city, shaded by the early morning's indigo miasma that drifted lazily over the horizon. The world looked like it was shoved into a mix of a kaleidoscope, and an art museum. Never before had he seen so many vibrant colors in one place, nor were they mixed and matched so strangely. He didn't have time to ponder, however. As he soon felt himself grow weightless. In his rush to escape the dark and concealing forest, he had accidentally stumbled right off the cliff's end. Looking down, the last thing that Folan caught sight of, was two round. hole-ridden, black chitinous appendages sticking out right where his arms should have been. Then the ground came up to meet him, and all went black. Chapter 2: New DiscoveriesChapter 2 -- New Discoveries -- Pain. The dull throbbing in Folan's head encased his mind and radiated throughout his body. Not so different, in fact, from a 2-to-4-star hangover. Laying there, Folan opened one of his eyes to reveal that the morning had far ago past, and the sun was now on its ending cycle, barely peeking above the horizon before sinking below the end of the planet, shrouding the land in darkness. Thank goodness. As the darkness filled the valley, the pain in his head began to subside, his fever cooling down in the chilly autumn night. After another few moments, he decided to try his luck in walking, sure enough, he could not feel his fingers... Wait! His fingers! His eyes shot wide open, he looked down to where his hands should be, where they had been all his life. All that stared back at him through the crisp night air, were two pairs of black appendages. He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a shrill whine, where had his voice gone? Inspecting the, legs? Folan found them to be the most alien thing he'd seen in his whole waking – and slightly drunk – life. The limbs were black and hard, almost like they were made from obsidian. Wicked edges and holes carved their way through the legs' entire length, leaving them cracked and crooked-looking, almost as if a stone mason was putting the finishing touches on a statue, made a mistake, and promptly said: "fuck it!" Then proceeded to carve holes into the entirety of the requested piece. But, unlike stone, these holes were carved into the legs of a living, breathing, sentient creature. Not to mention that the joint was bent in the opposite direction to what was intended for a normal, salubrious human arm. That wasn't the only thing that was new, his stomach, in contrast to his appendages, was a sickly green color, only a little bit lighter than that of a lime's rind. Thin lines seemed to be dividing up his gut into multiple parts. Short bands wrapped themselves around the outer-most of his stomach, separating off the many sections from one another. Following the lines with his eyes, he found that they, indeed, wrapped all the way around to his back, upon careful examination, Folan was met with another sight. His back was, wrong. It seemed to carry on past his neck for a good foot, then snap perpendicular to the rest of his neck, 'that's not good.' He thought. Had he been paralyzed in the fall? No, he could still – Sadly – feel the rest of his body, that ruled that theory out; but then, why could he clearly see that his neck was bent the completely wrong direction? Now that he thought about it, his body seemed to resemble that of a horse's, rather than that of a human. That is, if horses were black, hard as a rock, had green stomachs, and cheese for legs. But that doesn't make sense, you don't just get drunk one night and wake up as a horse in a place you've never seen nor heard of before. Much less in what seemed to be a fantasy world, though he wasn't sure on that account, he was sure that his hometown didn't have cities carved into mountains, or ones made of purple and blue crystal. "This is what I get for never paying attention in geography class," He thought to himself, trying to get up on shaky legs. He would have to do more research when he got home; that is, if he ever got home. On that note, where was home? Other than the grassy fields and the unusually large apple orchards, this place looked nothing like his hometown, there weren't even any landmarks to be seen for miles. Not that he could see, it being night, and all. After trying – and failing – to pull himself up to walk, he decided that the best course of action was just to crawl towards the nearest settlement. He had seen one just over the large apple farm, towards the crystal spire. Thinking that, if worst comes to worst, and he wouldn't be able to make it to a hospital; he could wait till the morning for the spire to become visible again, like a beacon for salvation. So, with determination in his eyes, and an ache in his... Well, everything. Folan began the long and taxing hobble to the closest hospital. Hours. It had been hours since he'd started his long crawl, he could no longer see the cliff that he had fallen off of, and was now deep into the thick of the orchards. The moon had made its long track across the heavens, and now, was making way for the sun's light to bleed from the east into the sky, snuffing out the stars' light with its radiance. Over the night, Folan had taken many stops to rest, but, he had made enough progress to catch the sight of the crystal castle, in all of its glory. The spires of the castle rose in jagged angles, scraping against the sun, cutting off rays of light and sharing them with whoever cared to bask in their unladen beams of pure happiness. The ivory city, though he could not see it well, looked even more brilliant in the sunrise, the castle's many tips sparkling in the morning haze, the shadows of the many buildings drawing wicked shapes into the mountainside. They were a sight to behold, that was for sure. Admiring the view for a few more seconds, Folan became unaware of his surroundings, so much so, that it came as a genuine shock when someone barked a shout in his direction. "Hey, you!" Jumping a little at the unexpected noise, Folan hastily snapped his head in the direction of who could have been shouting at him. When his eyes met the creature, his jaw dropped. Standing in the location of where the sound had emanated, was not a human, but instead, a slightly undersized horse. But that wasn't what caught Folan's attention, It would have been entirely reasonable to see a horse here, it was a farm after all. Instead, it was the fact that this Pony? Was a bright orange color, an alternative to the dull grays, browns, and blacks that he had commonly seen. Also, this horse just frickin talked to him! "Ah' don't know what 'yer doin' here, mister, but this here place ain't for the likes of your kind to be wanderin' about." Her voice was as smooth as butter, it came out with no hitch or stutter. The words held such a potent venom in them they could kill a rattlesnake with a mere utterance. It was terrifying. Folan thought of all the things that he wanted to tell her, that it was all a misunderstanding, that he wasn't going to hurt her, that he wasn't sure what she was talking about, that he needed help. All that came out was a measly gasp of air; silence filled the scene, infecting the air with awkwardness and unease. As his mouth lay open, he caught a glimpse of what had only been a mass on the side of his mouth until now. Fangs, his mouth was laden with two long, hard, sharp fangs that could surely penetrate an animal's coat with the slightest pressure. They gleamed in the morning light, shining into his eyes with the might of the angry pony's wrath. He closed his eyes to ward off the blinding beam; after closing his mouth, he opened his eyes to stare back at the mare. *WHACK* Folan was thrown onto his back by a sharp blow to the front of his head, breaking his nose with a sharp crack. He stared back at her with astonishment, in only a second, she had closed the distance enough to rear around and land a single rap to his face with the two back-most of her hooves. Leaving him in a defenseless state, desperately clutching his nose to stop the blood from flowing out. She came closer, pulling a foreleg into position for another quick stroke. "Ah' mean it, stranger! You best get yer sorry flank offa' mah land, or ah'll turn yer sorreh shell into decorative plates!" She hollered in his ear at point-blank range. He lifted the leg that was covering his face in an attempt to shield himself from the inevitable blow. Taking away the limb from his face, he caught an up-close show to what exactly was leaking out of his body. Instead of a light red and runny fluid, his face and leg were covered in a thick, viscous liquid the same color as his abdomen, a sickly green. That was it, his body couldn't take the constant abuse. Blackness crept from the sides of his vision, engulfing his world in a dark haze as he lost consciousness. After a moment, he felt nothing at all, his body relaxed, and he floated into the wonderous and peaceful land of rest. Far away from the waking world, he could think less of his problems, and let his body drift off. Into sleep. Chapter 3: Waking up in Someone Else's BedChapter 3 -- Waking up in Someone Else's Bed -- Gradually, Folan's mind came back to him, the slow and dull ache of a migraine infected his body. Gently, he moved to feel at his surroundings, but stopped almost immediately; with nausea and blindness beginning to peck at the insides of his system, he figured it would be best to hold off on the whole "moving" thing. Instead, deciding to relax his muscles, and sink back into the surprisingly comfortable sheets that now wrapped around him. Wait... Sheets? His mind was awake now, His eyes shot open, causing his head to seize up at the sudden brightness, and make him close his eyes to barely a squint. After his eyes adjusted, he tentatively opened them further and surveyed the surroundings. He wasn't where he'd fallen asleep. In fact, the blank and stainless whitewashed walls were a stark contrast to where he remembered getting pummeled into the dust. His immediate thought was, that he was dead and that this was some sick interpretation of the afterlife. Fearing the worst, Folan looked around for anything, anything to disprove that theory as fast as possible. His eyes fell on the black legs that he had gotten used to looking at for the past day and a half. If he was dead, then why would he still be in this form, this body that had caused him so much pain – most of which he had done to himself – over the last few days. Rather than continuing to jump to conclusions, Folan merely deduced that he had been sent to the local hospital sometime after he'd been beaten to a pulp. That would explain the equipment that came with a standard hospital's patients; the basics, like a heart monitor, and an I.V. Following the tube, he noticed that it wasn't connected to his arm via slow and careful insertion; instead, it looked to have been stabbed directly into his leg with enough force to crack the armor-like substance coating his body. Deep in thought, Folan began to wonder if that was a necessity to get the IV in, or it was just the work of some offensive staff, that orange pony had said that "his kind" wasn't welcome "here." Though whether that meant her land specifically, or the populace of the town in general, was yet to be seen. *Click* In the silence of the room, the small click of the door's inner latch catching was almost deafening. Folan froze, laying as still as possible, keeping one eye open slightly, in case he would need to make a bolt for it. The door opened fully, letting whoever opened it stand in the center of its archway. Tentatively, a white mare, – of average build – approached through the open door with her eyes glued to a clipboard. Slowly, she walked, crossing the spacious room, and came to a stop at his bedside, not stopping to look at him. On the mare's back, was what seemed to be another IV bag, well, at least she's not screaming, yelling, or threatening me, he thought to himself as she reached up to replace the bags. He made a move to thank the mare for her hospitality, and that he was feeling much better. Only for his words to catch in his throat, once again. Instead, he chose the next logical option, poking the mare on the shoulder with one of his black, chitinous appendages. Upon contact with the mare's shoulder, she turned almost full circle to face him, her eyes shot open, and she let out a terrifying shrill cry. Dropping her clipboard and the IV bag, she sprinted out the door, "It's awake! It's awake!" she howled down the halls of the hospital. Sigh... Why was it, that everyone he met here yelled and screamed at him? Sure, he had only ever seen two ponies, but that still didn't invalidate his point! Sighing, Folan made to slip out of the covers but found that the needle lodged firmly in his legs not only penetrated the thick skin he had gained, but also that the layer of flesh just beneath the hard and black chitin, was incredibly sensitive. The slightest pull of the tube that was now firmly strung to the floor filled his leg with excruciating, piercing pain. Not wanting to deal with the pain, he decided to wait for someone to come – that is, if they came – to help him. Allowing his body to sink into the bed, he let his mind start to wander. One thing had been bothering him since the fall he had taken not only a day ago. What had happened to his voice? He had been talking just fine when he'd woken up the first time. So, why was his voice nothing more than a shy whisper of its former self? Not even letting any syllables or cogent sound get by his maw. Had his vocal chords been damaged in the fall? Had they been shattered? Wait! No, that was stupid. Vocal chords couldn't be shattered. Could they? His mental tangent was cut short, however, by the sudden presence of, not one, but four mares racing into the bedroom with extraordinary speed, before coming to a halt in front of his bed. After recovering from their sudden stop, the mares glued their eyes to him. Fixing his own eyes with glares as cold as ice. He gave a sheepish grin and tried to wave one of his holed hooves, before getting a sharp, and somewhat painful, reminder that his arm was still connected to the floor. He decided that it would probably not be the best idea to move, he didn't want to frighten the mares, or for them to start beating him. He took the time that they were glaring at him to make some observations about the five. There were all – as he had come to expect – mares, all with rather average builds for the typical small horse. The first he laid his eyes on, was a pony of a color roughly between purple and lavender. She hadn't seemed all that different from the orange pony he'd seen the day before; she even held the same venomous stare. To her right and left, stood three more ponies giving equally hard looks towards Folan, burning a metaphorical hole in his not-so-steely resolve. The pony to the purple one's immediate left was a very vibrant pink, with a mane and tail only a slight shade darker. Folan could have sworn that it was made of cotton candy, or maybe that was the immense lack of food he had eaten in the past few days. To the pink pony's left was an all-white mare with a flowing and curling violet mane. Looking just past the hair, Folan was shocked to see that there was a slight protrusion from the front of the pony's head, almost like a horn of sort, more like a narwhale's tusk than anything. Glancing to the other side of the lavender mare, he noticed that she too had this conical extremity extruding from the top of her head. Then, Folan was met with a fantastic sight. The last of the four ponies had a coat the shade of cyan blue; her mane was ablaze with every color of the rainbow after the rain, her tail shared these fantastic colors, but seemed to go in reverse order to a regular rainbow's pattern. This, however, wasn't the only thing that caught his eye. Unlike all the other mares who had been firmly planted to the ground, the cyan pony did not seem to care for the laws of gravity, suspending herself in the air with the aid of two large blue wings. A pegasus. All Folan could do was gape at the strange creature, he had heard of pegasi from his mythology classes, but he had never thought they were real. He must have been staring for a while, but after a good few seconds, the lavender mare was the first to speak. "So, you've finally woken up." The words were dry of emotion; it was only a stated fact that was said, lacking all feelings and bias. Though the weight behind them was clear, this was a dire situation, whether Folan knew it, or not. Finally? Folan thought, making a confused face. Just how long had he been in the hospital? He turned his head to look at the mare who spoke, she still wore that heavy frown, as if she was expecting an answer to the statement. Not wanting to anger any of these ponies anymore, Folan gave a slow nod to the lavender unicorn. She looked about, scanning the changeling's every move and flick, trying to gauge whether or not he could be trusted. She made to say something, but before she could, in walked another pony. Folan's eyes graced the mare for only a second, but that's all it took. It was her. The blonde mane, the orange coat, the green eyes, that dastardly stetson. Folan reeled, she was going to hurt him again for sure, she was going to turn his face into a pulp, he just knew it. He no longer cared for the pain in his forearm, Folan pulled on the IV with all his might, the cored stretched, but held. He pulled even harder until he heard the loud snap of metal tearing in half. Leaping to his arms and legs, planning to hit the floor and make a break for it. He braced himself for the rush of pain, but it never came. Instead, Folan began to feel weightless, as if he had been suspended in space and time. He cracked open his eyes and was met with a bright lavender glow that seemed to envelop his entire body, keeping him aloft. "Applejack! What are you doing in here, I told you to stay outside the room!" the lavender one said in a somewhat sharp voice. "So-Sorry Twilight! It was just gettin' so quiet in here, Ah' got concerned." The orange pony, now known as Applejack, said in a slightly sheepish tone. "And you know how Fluttershy gets when her friends are in danger, she just told me to take a peak is all, honest." She remarked, rubbing the back of her neck with a spare hoof. The lavender unicorn... Twilight, seemed to relax her anger down to the point of mear annoyance. "Well now look at what you've done, you almost scared him out the window!" She barked in a calmer voice. She put a hoof up to her face to caress the bridge of her nose. "Just tell Fluttershy that we are alright, keep her calm, we may need her eventually." She released her nose to look back at Applejack sternly, "and next time, could you knock please?" Applejack once again held that sheepish grin for a second more, before turning a cold glare on Folan, making him squirm in the lavender glow. "Sure thing, Twilight." was the last thing she said, before promptly turning around and departing through the door she came in through. Looking back on the changeling, Twilight dropped him on the bed with a flick of her horn, causing Folan the writhe in agony from the sudden contact of his holed hoof to a hard surface. It felt like the syringe had broken inside his arm, sending little shards and follicles of torn metal throughout the appendage. He laid back on his back, to not hurt his arm any further. Staring back up at the group, Folan was surprised to see that Twilight was ushering out the rest of the group of mares. Leaving only her and the changeling in the sterile white room. Author's Note The original length of this chapter was around 16K words long, so I've decided to break it into a few smaller sections. So, stay tuned for those! Have a good day everyone, and thank you for reading.
Chapter 1: AwakeningChapter 1 -- Awakening -- "Hhhhnnnngg, eh!" Deep within the depths of the Everfree Forest, where the tree canopy shed little to no light, and where the little woodland creatures dare not go for fear of their own survival; a murmuring could be heard. A moment later, a faint stirring could be heard as well, as if a lost timberwolf pup had found a precarious pile of the fallen fall leaves to roll around in. Then, the stirring grew, it began to emanate through the forest, calling to all that could hear that something was moving through the low-hanging vines, and brush. "What the hell happened last night?" The creature asked through the darkness of the most shaded region of the forest. This creature's name was Folan, he was a grad student from the University of Maine, attending his fifth year by the end of the summer. As a final party before the end of the summer, he and his friends decided to throw one of the biggest they've ever had. That's the last thing that he could remember, and it was starting to drive him crazy. Getting up, Folan tried to get on his -- hopefully -- good two legs; however, when he tried to put his weight on one of the limbs, the joint unceremoniously bent backward. After screaming his lungs out for the next twenty seconds, he leaned back and inspected the leg. Though, upon trying to grasp the broken appendage, another bout of screaming commenced as he realized he had no fingers to do so with. "Okay! Okay, calm down!" Maybe it wasn't as bad as it felt, perhaps his hands were just paralyzed or asleep! Yeah, that's what it was, he must have slept on them the wrong way, and the feeling would return any second now. However, instead of feeling returning to his fingers, he only became more acutely aware of the immense lack of any apparent feeling. Deciding that staying in a shady, mist-ridden forest that seemed entirely foreign to himself was a bad Idea, he chose to start crawling, as his legs wouldn't be of much help. Aside from the thick numbness that enveloped the tips of his extremities, Folan found crawling to be astonishingly simple, as if walking on all fours was to be preferred by his body. Relenting to his curiosity, he moved to put weight on his injured leg; unsurprisingly, the limb once again bent in the exact opposite direction to which it was supposed to. Nonetheless, it seemed to be holding, so instead of putting all his weight on his feet, he shifted to place most of it on his forearms, and hands. They too, bent out of place, he was starting to notice a theme. Getting a feel for his limbs, Folan moved with a purpose, putting one extremity after another. First, his right hand, then his left foot, then his left hand, then his right foot. Feeling like an infant learning to walk for the first time, He moved his legs faster, getting into a rhythm. Still not being able to see, Folan soon found himself face-to-face with one of his most feared enemies; one so cruel and daunting that it could instill terror in the most intrepid of people. A tree. After spitting out the leaves of the overgrown vegetable, Folan made his way through the thicket, careful to swipe of the more thorny bushes out of his way with his numb hands, he would deal with the pain later. As he made his way to an open clearing, enough light shown through the canopy for him to make out the remnants of a long-forgotten dirt path cutting straight through the forest. And through the darkness shown a dimly lit hole surrounded by splatters of white, yellow, and orange. It looks like he had found the way out. He staggered forth with a new sense of excitement and desperation, getting to see more and more of the forest as he crawled, one thought kept ebbing at the edge of his mind. That he did not recognize this wooded area in the slightest. The woods in Maine are immense, but he would never go into a forest that he didn't know; inebriated, or not. 'What the hell is this place?' Thought Folan as he walked along the rough and disheveled path through the forest. "What the hell did I do last night?" He asked out loud, too far lost in his own train of thought to care for whatever overheard him. He was nearing the edge of the forest now, all the was between him and the outside, was the treeline. Pushing his way past the surprisingly rough patch of vines and shrubs; he stumbled through and saw the most beautiful sight that had ever grazed his half-drunken mind. He was not on the border of a forest grotto like he had thought. Instead, he was on the edge of a cliff overlooking what seemed to be a lush countryside. The hills appeared to roll on for miles, topped with thick rows of trees laden with bright orange and red fruits ready to be harvested. Over the orchards, lay a wondrous town filled with buildings of all shapes and sizes converging at an other-worldly centerpiece. The castle stretched a mile into the sky, cutting the heavens to ribbons with each of its jagged crystalline spires. In the far distance, cut into the face of a mountain, rested an ivory city, shaded by the early morning's indigo miasma that drifted lazily over the horizon. The world looked like it was shoved into a mix of a kaleidoscope, and an art museum. Never before had he seen so many vibrant colors in one place, nor were they mixed and matched so strangely. He didn't have time to ponder, however. As he soon felt himself grow weightless. In his rush to escape the dark and concealing forest, he had accidentally stumbled right off the cliff's end. Looking down, the last thing that Folan caught sight of, was two round. hole-ridden, black chitinous appendages sticking out right where his arms should have been. Then the ground came up to meet him, and all went black.
Chapter 2: New DiscoveriesChapter 2 -- New Discoveries -- Pain. The dull throbbing in Folan's head encased his mind and radiated throughout his body. Not so different, in fact, from a 2-to-4-star hangover. Laying there, Folan opened one of his eyes to reveal that the morning had far ago past, and the sun was now on its ending cycle, barely peeking above the horizon before sinking below the end of the planet, shrouding the land in darkness. Thank goodness. As the darkness filled the valley, the pain in his head began to subside, his fever cooling down in the chilly autumn night. After another few moments, he decided to try his luck in walking, sure enough, he could not feel his fingers... Wait! His fingers! His eyes shot wide open, he looked down to where his hands should be, where they had been all his life. All that stared back at him through the crisp night air, were two pairs of black appendages. He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a shrill whine, where had his voice gone? Inspecting the, legs? Folan found them to be the most alien thing he'd seen in his whole waking – and slightly drunk – life. The limbs were black and hard, almost like they were made from obsidian. Wicked edges and holes carved their way through the legs' entire length, leaving them cracked and crooked-looking, almost as if a stone mason was putting the finishing touches on a statue, made a mistake, and promptly said: "fuck it!" Then proceeded to carve holes into the entirety of the requested piece. But, unlike stone, these holes were carved into the legs of a living, breathing, sentient creature. Not to mention that the joint was bent in the opposite direction to what was intended for a normal, salubrious human arm. That wasn't the only thing that was new, his stomach, in contrast to his appendages, was a sickly green color, only a little bit lighter than that of a lime's rind. Thin lines seemed to be dividing up his gut into multiple parts. Short bands wrapped themselves around the outer-most of his stomach, separating off the many sections from one another. Following the lines with his eyes, he found that they, indeed, wrapped all the way around to his back, upon careful examination, Folan was met with another sight. His back was, wrong. It seemed to carry on past his neck for a good foot, then snap perpendicular to the rest of his neck, 'that's not good.' He thought. Had he been paralyzed in the fall? No, he could still – Sadly – feel the rest of his body, that ruled that theory out; but then, why could he clearly see that his neck was bent the completely wrong direction? Now that he thought about it, his body seemed to resemble that of a horse's, rather than that of a human. That is, if horses were black, hard as a rock, had green stomachs, and cheese for legs. But that doesn't make sense, you don't just get drunk one night and wake up as a horse in a place you've never seen nor heard of before. Much less in what seemed to be a fantasy world, though he wasn't sure on that account, he was sure that his hometown didn't have cities carved into mountains, or ones made of purple and blue crystal. "This is what I get for never paying attention in geography class," He thought to himself, trying to get up on shaky legs. He would have to do more research when he got home; that is, if he ever got home. On that note, where was home? Other than the grassy fields and the unusually large apple orchards, this place looked nothing like his hometown, there weren't even any landmarks to be seen for miles. Not that he could see, it being night, and all. After trying – and failing – to pull himself up to walk, he decided that the best course of action was just to crawl towards the nearest settlement. He had seen one just over the large apple farm, towards the crystal spire. Thinking that, if worst comes to worst, and he wouldn't be able to make it to a hospital; he could wait till the morning for the spire to become visible again, like a beacon for salvation. So, with determination in his eyes, and an ache in his... Well, everything. Folan began the long and taxing hobble to the closest hospital. Hours. It had been hours since he'd started his long crawl, he could no longer see the cliff that he had fallen off of, and was now deep into the thick of the orchards. The moon had made its long track across the heavens, and now, was making way for the sun's light to bleed from the east into the sky, snuffing out the stars' light with its radiance. Over the night, Folan had taken many stops to rest, but, he had made enough progress to catch the sight of the crystal castle, in all of its glory. The spires of the castle rose in jagged angles, scraping against the sun, cutting off rays of light and sharing them with whoever cared to bask in their unladen beams of pure happiness. The ivory city, though he could not see it well, looked even more brilliant in the sunrise, the castle's many tips sparkling in the morning haze, the shadows of the many buildings drawing wicked shapes into the mountainside. They were a sight to behold, that was for sure. Admiring the view for a few more seconds, Folan became unaware of his surroundings, so much so, that it came as a genuine shock when someone barked a shout in his direction. "Hey, you!" Jumping a little at the unexpected noise, Folan hastily snapped his head in the direction of who could have been shouting at him. When his eyes met the creature, his jaw dropped. Standing in the location of where the sound had emanated, was not a human, but instead, a slightly undersized horse. But that wasn't what caught Folan's attention, It would have been entirely reasonable to see a horse here, it was a farm after all. Instead, it was the fact that this Pony? Was a bright orange color, an alternative to the dull grays, browns, and blacks that he had commonly seen. Also, this horse just frickin talked to him! "Ah' don't know what 'yer doin' here, mister, but this here place ain't for the likes of your kind to be wanderin' about." Her voice was as smooth as butter, it came out with no hitch or stutter. The words held such a potent venom in them they could kill a rattlesnake with a mere utterance. It was terrifying. Folan thought of all the things that he wanted to tell her, that it was all a misunderstanding, that he wasn't going to hurt her, that he wasn't sure what she was talking about, that he needed help. All that came out was a measly gasp of air; silence filled the scene, infecting the air with awkwardness and unease. As his mouth lay open, he caught a glimpse of what had only been a mass on the side of his mouth until now. Fangs, his mouth was laden with two long, hard, sharp fangs that could surely penetrate an animal's coat with the slightest pressure. They gleamed in the morning light, shining into his eyes with the might of the angry pony's wrath. He closed his eyes to ward off the blinding beam; after closing his mouth, he opened his eyes to stare back at the mare. *WHACK* Folan was thrown onto his back by a sharp blow to the front of his head, breaking his nose with a sharp crack. He stared back at her with astonishment, in only a second, she had closed the distance enough to rear around and land a single rap to his face with the two back-most of her hooves. Leaving him in a defenseless state, desperately clutching his nose to stop the blood from flowing out. She came closer, pulling a foreleg into position for another quick stroke. "Ah' mean it, stranger! You best get yer sorry flank offa' mah land, or ah'll turn yer sorreh shell into decorative plates!" She hollered in his ear at point-blank range. He lifted the leg that was covering his face in an attempt to shield himself from the inevitable blow. Taking away the limb from his face, he caught an up-close show to what exactly was leaking out of his body. Instead of a light red and runny fluid, his face and leg were covered in a thick, viscous liquid the same color as his abdomen, a sickly green. That was it, his body couldn't take the constant abuse. Blackness crept from the sides of his vision, engulfing his world in a dark haze as he lost consciousness. After a moment, he felt nothing at all, his body relaxed, and he floated into the wonderous and peaceful land of rest. Far away from the waking world, he could think less of his problems, and let his body drift off. Into sleep.
Chapter 3: Waking up in Someone Else's BedChapter 3 -- Waking up in Someone Else's Bed -- Gradually, Folan's mind came back to him, the slow and dull ache of a migraine infected his body. Gently, he moved to feel at his surroundings, but stopped almost immediately; with nausea and blindness beginning to peck at the insides of his system, he figured it would be best to hold off on the whole "moving" thing. Instead, deciding to relax his muscles, and sink back into the surprisingly comfortable sheets that now wrapped around him. Wait... Sheets? His mind was awake now, His eyes shot open, causing his head to seize up at the sudden brightness, and make him close his eyes to barely a squint. After his eyes adjusted, he tentatively opened them further and surveyed the surroundings. He wasn't where he'd fallen asleep. In fact, the blank and stainless whitewashed walls were a stark contrast to where he remembered getting pummeled into the dust. His immediate thought was, that he was dead and that this was some sick interpretation of the afterlife. Fearing the worst, Folan looked around for anything, anything to disprove that theory as fast as possible. His eyes fell on the black legs that he had gotten used to looking at for the past day and a half. If he was dead, then why would he still be in this form, this body that had caused him so much pain – most of which he had done to himself – over the last few days. Rather than continuing to jump to conclusions, Folan merely deduced that he had been sent to the local hospital sometime after he'd been beaten to a pulp. That would explain the equipment that came with a standard hospital's patients; the basics, like a heart monitor, and an I.V. Following the tube, he noticed that it wasn't connected to his arm via slow and careful insertion; instead, it looked to have been stabbed directly into his leg with enough force to crack the armor-like substance coating his body. Deep in thought, Folan began to wonder if that was a necessity to get the IV in, or it was just the work of some offensive staff, that orange pony had said that "his kind" wasn't welcome "here." Though whether that meant her land specifically, or the populace of the town in general, was yet to be seen. *Click* In the silence of the room, the small click of the door's inner latch catching was almost deafening. Folan froze, laying as still as possible, keeping one eye open slightly, in case he would need to make a bolt for it. The door opened fully, letting whoever opened it stand in the center of its archway. Tentatively, a white mare, – of average build – approached through the open door with her eyes glued to a clipboard. Slowly, she walked, crossing the spacious room, and came to a stop at his bedside, not stopping to look at him. On the mare's back, was what seemed to be another IV bag, well, at least she's not screaming, yelling, or threatening me, he thought to himself as she reached up to replace the bags. He made a move to thank the mare for her hospitality, and that he was feeling much better. Only for his words to catch in his throat, once again. Instead, he chose the next logical option, poking the mare on the shoulder with one of his black, chitinous appendages. Upon contact with the mare's shoulder, she turned almost full circle to face him, her eyes shot open, and she let out a terrifying shrill cry. Dropping her clipboard and the IV bag, she sprinted out the door, "It's awake! It's awake!" she howled down the halls of the hospital. Sigh... Why was it, that everyone he met here yelled and screamed at him? Sure, he had only ever seen two ponies, but that still didn't invalidate his point! Sighing, Folan made to slip out of the covers but found that the needle lodged firmly in his legs not only penetrated the thick skin he had gained, but also that the layer of flesh just beneath the hard and black chitin, was incredibly sensitive. The slightest pull of the tube that was now firmly strung to the floor filled his leg with excruciating, piercing pain. Not wanting to deal with the pain, he decided to wait for someone to come – that is, if they came – to help him. Allowing his body to sink into the bed, he let his mind start to wander. One thing had been bothering him since the fall he had taken not only a day ago. What had happened to his voice? He had been talking just fine when he'd woken up the first time. So, why was his voice nothing more than a shy whisper of its former self? Not even letting any syllables or cogent sound get by his maw. Had his vocal chords been damaged in the fall? Had they been shattered? Wait! No, that was stupid. Vocal chords couldn't be shattered. Could they? His mental tangent was cut short, however, by the sudden presence of, not one, but four mares racing into the bedroom with extraordinary speed, before coming to a halt in front of his bed. After recovering from their sudden stop, the mares glued their eyes to him. Fixing his own eyes with glares as cold as ice. He gave a sheepish grin and tried to wave one of his holed hooves, before getting a sharp, and somewhat painful, reminder that his arm was still connected to the floor. He decided that it would probably not be the best idea to move, he didn't want to frighten the mares, or for them to start beating him. He took the time that they were glaring at him to make some observations about the five. There were all – as he had come to expect – mares, all with rather average builds for the typical small horse. The first he laid his eyes on, was a pony of a color roughly between purple and lavender. She hadn't seemed all that different from the orange pony he'd seen the day before; she even held the same venomous stare. To her right and left, stood three more ponies giving equally hard looks towards Folan, burning a metaphorical hole in his not-so-steely resolve. The pony to the purple one's immediate left was a very vibrant pink, with a mane and tail only a slight shade darker. Folan could have sworn that it was made of cotton candy, or maybe that was the immense lack of food he had eaten in the past few days. To the pink pony's left was an all-white mare with a flowing and curling violet mane. Looking just past the hair, Folan was shocked to see that there was a slight protrusion from the front of the pony's head, almost like a horn of sort, more like a narwhale's tusk than anything. Glancing to the other side of the lavender mare, he noticed that she too had this conical extremity extruding from the top of her head. Then, Folan was met with a fantastic sight. The last of the four ponies had a coat the shade of cyan blue; her mane was ablaze with every color of the rainbow after the rain, her tail shared these fantastic colors, but seemed to go in reverse order to a regular rainbow's pattern. This, however, wasn't the only thing that caught his eye. Unlike all the other mares who had been firmly planted to the ground, the cyan pony did not seem to care for the laws of gravity, suspending herself in the air with the aid of two large blue wings. A pegasus. All Folan could do was gape at the strange creature, he had heard of pegasi from his mythology classes, but he had never thought they were real. He must have been staring for a while, but after a good few seconds, the lavender mare was the first to speak. "So, you've finally woken up." The words were dry of emotion; it was only a stated fact that was said, lacking all feelings and bias. Though the weight behind them was clear, this was a dire situation, whether Folan knew it, or not. Finally? Folan thought, making a confused face. Just how long had he been in the hospital? He turned his head to look at the mare who spoke, she still wore that heavy frown, as if she was expecting an answer to the statement. Not wanting to anger any of these ponies anymore, Folan gave a slow nod to the lavender unicorn. She looked about, scanning the changeling's every move and flick, trying to gauge whether or not he could be trusted. She made to say something, but before she could, in walked another pony. Folan's eyes graced the mare for only a second, but that's all it took. It was her. The blonde mane, the orange coat, the green eyes, that dastardly stetson. Folan reeled, she was going to hurt him again for sure, she was going to turn his face into a pulp, he just knew it. He no longer cared for the pain in his forearm, Folan pulled on the IV with all his might, the cored stretched, but held. He pulled even harder until he heard the loud snap of metal tearing in half. Leaping to his arms and legs, planning to hit the floor and make a break for it. He braced himself for the rush of pain, but it never came. Instead, Folan began to feel weightless, as if he had been suspended in space and time. He cracked open his eyes and was met with a bright lavender glow that seemed to envelop his entire body, keeping him aloft. "Applejack! What are you doing in here, I told you to stay outside the room!" the lavender one said in a somewhat sharp voice. "So-Sorry Twilight! It was just gettin' so quiet in here, Ah' got concerned." The orange pony, now known as Applejack, said in a slightly sheepish tone. "And you know how Fluttershy gets when her friends are in danger, she just told me to take a peak is all, honest." She remarked, rubbing the back of her neck with a spare hoof. The lavender unicorn... Twilight, seemed to relax her anger down to the point of mear annoyance. "Well now look at what you've done, you almost scared him out the window!" She barked in a calmer voice. She put a hoof up to her face to caress the bridge of her nose. "Just tell Fluttershy that we are alright, keep her calm, we may need her eventually." She released her nose to look back at Applejack sternly, "and next time, could you knock please?" Applejack once again held that sheepish grin for a second more, before turning a cold glare on Folan, making him squirm in the lavender glow. "Sure thing, Twilight." was the last thing she said, before promptly turning around and departing through the door she came in through. Looking back on the changeling, Twilight dropped him on the bed with a flick of her horn, causing Folan the writhe in agony from the sudden contact of his holed hoof to a hard surface. It felt like the syringe had broken inside his arm, sending little shards and follicles of torn metal throughout the appendage. He laid back on his back, to not hurt his arm any further. Staring back up at the group, Folan was surprised to see that Twilight was ushering out the rest of the group of mares. Leaving only her and the changeling in the sterile white room. Author's Note The original length of this chapter was around 16K words long, so I've decided to break it into a few smaller sections. So, stay tuned for those! Have a good day everyone, and thank you for reading.
