Author's Note

Welcome to Version 2.0! It took me a while, but here it is! This is more of an enhanced version than a complete rewrite. Meaning: most of the things are still the same (more or less), there are some juicy new scenes here and there, improved writing and dialogue and stuff, and some new mysteries that may or may not play a part in a sequel if I ever decide to write one (I do have an idea where to take it, nothing concrete yet, though).

Special thanks to everyone that gave the vanilla version a chance. I appreciate all the feedback I got (even the negative feedback, although some of you can go bounce on a cactus...).

Many thanks to everyone that gave this story a vote up, it helped a lot. Here's to hoping this reaches seven hundred votes as a birthday... uh... 'totally-not-important-day' gift.

And finally, thanks to my friends, PoneFluff, Moterius, and Feeritas. I'd be lonely without you. I mean it. You're my only friends that bother checking up on me.

Part of the rewrite from the 24th of June, 2023. Comments before this date may not accurately depict the current state of the story.

Chapter 001 - Reborn in another world.

So, I kinda died? Well, I don’t know how it really happened. One moment I was on my way home from a visit to my parents and then, snap, I’m dead. I’m pretty sure there was no other person around my vicinity and there were definitely no cars or the likes that could have just crashed into me or gone 'Boom!' and ended my life in a fiery explosion. Besides the possibility of getting killed by a sniper hiding in a ghillie suit for whatever reason, but that's just silly.

It probably was just instant death through a brain tumor, who knows.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be able to think anymore, what with being dead. Or feel anything, for that matter. Sight wasn’t available to me, either, but I could tell I still had eyes (even if they felt weird at the moment). And whatever that sound was, it was slowly driving me insane. It was a constant beating that wouldn’t stop. At. All!

Du-dum, du-dum, du-dum! Argh, it was driving me up walls! If I knew where they were, that is.

But I was getting ahead of myself here. My name is... or was, Rudolph Baker. No, I was not a baker in my lifetime, and yes, people made jokes about reindeer around me. Not that I minded, I kinda found it funny, too. Sometimes. One can hear a specific joke only so much before it gets annoying, after all.

All in all, I lived a rather ordinary life with the usual drama everyone was used to in one way or another. I was a programmer for an indie games company, had a rather nice car (it was my wife's, don't judge me), and was lucky enough to have met the most amazing woman in the entire world (she's a bombshell that somehow fell for a scrawny, nerdy guy like me). We had two kids, one just over sixteen years old and a very special girl that was the jewel of my life. Both of them were, really, but Tabetha was a special kind of child. I swear, sometimes she was just too smart for her own good. It was honestly a challenge raising her while my wife was off to work on her career. My little Star would have started going to university way before what was considered normal next year and I meant it.

She was a prodigy. And not just any kind of prodigy but a true genius, one that only appears once every generation. She literally had the choice to go anywhere and every school tried to get their hands on her. And yet, she wanted to go to one that was close to home and where her sister could join her without too much difficulty. Those two were pretty close with each other and it was no wonder my youngest didn't want to be left alone. Rose was her only friend that understood her, and as far as sisterly bonds go, they were thick as thieves (I've had to put down my work more than once every day because they got it into their heads to play adventurers at home).

I had little hope Tabby would have been able to find friends at university of all things, so I went pretty easy on them and their antics, usually even joining in on them when I wasn't too busy with my code. I had the advantage of being able to work from home and didn't have a heavy workload most days.

Or had, I should say. Same with my little Tabetha. I have no idea how my death would affect her and her plans to go study. I had so much to look forward to with my family, and now? Now it was all gone.

My wife was suddenly a widow, having to take care of two kids all alone. Although my parents and her sister would, without a doubt, help her out, I’m sure of that. Mom and Dad always had a soft spot for my wife and our kids, they are going to worry needlessly over them until they drop dead from exhaustion next, seriously. They were kinda that selfless, at times.

I always tried to make them think about their own health first before committing to such large tasks as buying a farm so they had something to do when they retired. It was quite endearing, though. They would take good care of my family without needing to be asked.

My concern rested with the sister of my wife, though. While she loved my kids more than anything, perhaps a bit too much, she didn’t really see eye-to-eye with my wife most of the time. She and Catherine seemed to have a different definition of when someone was taken or not, constantly getting into fights with each other until I had to get involved and stop their petty squabbles. Catherine managed to win my heart without any difficulty and her sister (sorta) hated her for it.

I had no idea how her jealousy would affect her now that I was kind of(?) dead. I might be in a coma for all I know. Would she resent my wife for what happened? What about the children? How would she feel about them, now that I was gone from the picture?

What about the rest of my family? My wife must be totally devastated by now. And my daughters would certainly miss me a whole bunch, to be sure.

How would they react to my passing? Would they find out what caused my premature death? I’m sure I didn’t have any relatives that had serious illnesses that could give them a clue as to what I had. If I had anything, that is. Maybe it was divine retribution for something I did or someone just hated my guts for no reason and poisoned me.

I still haven’t ruled out the sniper theory just yet. Then again, I don’t think anyone hated me that much to hire a hitman because of it. There was also the fact I felt no pain at all as I died and found myself here. Wherever 'here' was, I mused glumly. The incessant beating never stopped, so I had to be somewhere, at least.

I wanted to sigh in despair, but my body was incapable of such an action. Wherever this place was, it felt like I was submerged in some kind of thick fluid (it had to be thick if I couldn't move, right?). For that matter, I was uncertain how I was still alive with no air to breathe. All that my body could do was twitch a little bit and that felt like a heavy workout already. I must have been here for quite a while before regaining consciousness if my muscles deteriorated this much, right?

Then again, my body also felt really numb. Too numb, to be honest. I couldn’t tell if my limbs were all there or not, so I just prayed I wasn’t drugged on some substance that left me fully aware but incapable of everything else.

Perhaps this was hell? I mean, it kinda was unbearably hot and loud in here. Being submerged in water and drowning was one of my greatest fears, so this might be a punishment for whatever sin I committed. Not to mention the fear of being trapped within my own mind...

Maybe I should have gone to church while I was still alive? If God just punted everybody to hell for not going to church then I’m not certain I would have gone, anyway. It’s not worth following someone willing enough to do something like that to everybody not faithful to him, in that case.

I wasn’t particularly religious, to begin with, and it just made me stick with my belief in science more. Science was at least something understandable and didn’t care about your morals. I preferred to live by my own morals, thank you very much.

This is what I get for believing in science, wasn’t it? There was no way I could just simply believe in some higher being when science debunked everything the church had to say. At least whatever devil was watching over me, this wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

While I feared drowning quite a lot, I didn’t want to be subjected to physical torture, so I found it to be better like it was now. The constant but bearable suffering instead of the constant and painful suffering. In all my forty years of life, I always thought I was a decent person... so, why was I here, then?

As time went on, nothing seemed to change much. There was the occasional muffled sound reaching my immobile body that I couldn’t quite make out, but it always brought a sense of peace with it. My theory of this being hell was starting to lose its weight more and more.

There could be no pleasant things in hell, could there? I mean, sure, there was the possibility of me being granted a small reprieve and getting it cruelly stolen away, but I don’t think that was what was happening here.

It could be a very elaborate trap, I thought. Perhaps they wanted me to develop Stockholm syndrome? But why go to such lengths if there were by far easier ways to accomplish something like that? Certainly not with the setting I found myself in, submerged in fluid, unable to move, and the drum beat that never stopped.

Du-dum, du-dum, du-dum. On and on it went. Never stopping, never ceasing. Always there.

My perception of time was also slightly skewed, I had no way to count the hours efficiently. One little slip-up had me counting anew and it didn't help that the sound of booming thunder made me lose concentration multiple times in a row, so at some point, I just gave up trying to stave off the boredom like that. Counting time just managed to make me go slowly mad, anyway.

I would take my chances with boredom, then. Lest I go crazy and write strange symbols on the walls (if I ever find them, that is). And any time I actually tried to reach out towards the walls of my prison so I could try and break free from this accursed place, it felt sluggish and oddly different. I tried to put my finger on it, but even that I seemed to lack nowadays. Whatever happened to me, someone decided to steal my hands for some reason.

A strange thing to do by my captor, I have to admit. Why would anyone even go so far as to cripple their prisoner like that? So they couldn't escape? A pair of cuffs would have done the job, too. Most of the time, that is. I didn’t know how to break free from those things, so they certainly would have been enough to keep me contained.

That is what I thought for a long time afterward. There was no way there could have been any other possible explanation but some kind of serial killer going around collecting hands for their sick pleasure. But as time continued on, I noticed my body was not normal. At least by human standards.

Well, I don’t think my captor thought it funny to stitch my hands onto my back and somehow make it possible for me to still feel some amount of dexterity from them. I wish I could actually see something here in my prison cell. I wanted to look at what they had done to me, but my desires were sadly left unanswered.

I also felt something that I shouldn’t have where the end of my spine was supposed to be. I tried to figure out what it was, but only came up with one ridiculous answer after the next. Sometimes, I even got it to twitch, which left me wondering for days before I gave up making sense of it. The only viable theory I had was too ridiculous to be true, and for that reason alone, I wanted to dismiss it by default.

Then, one day (at least I think it was during the daylight hours because I had the vague sense of my prison being moved around), I felt something poke me in my side with a nub of a limb. I assumed it was a limb, it had to be because it gave me the strangest impression of someone kicking me aside for more space.

Dread started to fill my being and I did my best to ignore the most likely answer to my newest theory. I wasn’t as alone in my prison as I had previously assumed, it seemed. Either this was indeed some scheme of a mass murderer going around stuffing people in tanks filled with liquid and somehow keeping them alive, or this was something even worse.

It wasn’t too hard to come to the conclusion that after dying I ended up in the afterlife. Whether it was hell, the psychopath with a hand fetish, or reincarnation, I didn’t feel great about any of those possibilities. All of them were equally bad, in my opinion.

I always thought that after death, there would be nothing that comes afterward. No hell, no heaven, no reincarnation. Nothing but the void of nonexistence. All of those feeble hopes were nothing more than wishful fantasies of people that were afraid of dying, hoping there would be something, anything, beyond life to make it feel less meaningless. I was realistic, though. The body had no such thing as a soul. I always believed that and assumed it to be the absolute truth. We would have found evidence of the soul with science already, would that have been the case.

What even was a soul, to begin with? Some imaginary component that allowed you to live on? Your very being? No, all we were was some data in the brain within our bodies, memories stored away until the time of one's own passing. After that, the brain would start to die, and with it, erase what you were with each memory gone.

I really had a bleak outlook on life, hadn’t I? I swear, normally I’m not this philosophical about it. Generally, I’m quite a relaxed person, open to everything and quite forgiving. My death must have changed that. That, or the boredom, I wasn’t too sure about that, yet. I swore to rein in the bit of depression I found myself in, I couldn't allow myself to fall deeper into it.

No need to get into the mindset of life being a waste of time, after all. I found life to be interesting and worthwhile, it would be bad if that changed. Also, my wife would be so disappointed in me were she to hear my thoughts right now.

I would hold on to my spark of hope as fiercely as I could, I decided. I won't give up on everything I held dear to my heart. Kindness, generosity, forgiveness... the joy of life itself, I won't let go of it, ever. I owed it not only to myself but to all those I left behind. I owed it to Catherine and Rebecca, to Rose and Tabetha... Mom and Dad. Even to my brother, Tobias.

Whatever may come, I will endure it with my head held high. It might get difficult here and there, but I will make it through. Hopefully. Maybe.

Despite my encouraging words to myself, I felt the hollowness creep in of a lie told to myself in a desperate attempt at keeping my sanity in one piece. I was doomed to fail, wasn't I? All I wanted was to wake up from this nightmare and go back to my loved ones. I didn't want this. I never wanted to leave everyone behind, I...

There was another poke at my side and this time I poked back, annoyed. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, especially after I was taken from my family so suddenly that I had only this eternal prison as a place to grieve my loss, but the longer time ticked on, the more undeniable it got.

My sibling didn’t help in my grieving at all. That was the only thing that came to my mind that made sense to me, which only proved to put on an even bigger strain on my stressed-out mind. There was no point in lying to myself anymore. Wherever I was, this body was a second chance at life and I would have to content myself with never seeing my loved ones again.

I died and reincarnated. I have to accept that or I won't ever be able to move on. Not that I wanted to move on, in the first place. I was happy with what I had, why did this have to happen to me?

That brought up the question of the soul, again. Perhaps there was some truth to it, something that could explain why I got this second chance. I always thought the brain was the only thing responsible for our memories, but... if I had a new body now, how could I remember my old life? This wasn’t technically the same brain, right?

This new life was a second chance I didn’t want, though. Not if it meant that I had to leave behind my family. And, I had to admit to myself, there was no mistaking it as my body continued to grow within this womb. I had been reincarnated... and I wasn’t human anymore. If the poking of my incessant sibling was any indicator, the limb was some kind of foreleg.

I’m pretty sure we were still mammals in nature. That was at least some kind of relief, even though it was quickly overshadowed by another fear of mine. Was I now in the body of an animal? The original belief of reincarnation had something to do with karma, right? So, how shitty was my karma that I ended up in this position?

That thought filled me with even more dread. I didn’t want to be some sort of dumb animal for the rest of my life. I liked my ability to speak very much, thank you. And what even was I? Something with hooves, going by the shape of said limbs?

Was I doomed to live my life on a farm, being a beast of burden? Would I be robbed of my own freedom? Or would I end up in some dehumanizing zoo, being stared at all day long by little children and their parents?

Please, for the love of all things holy, don't let me end up in a petting zoo. I don't want them to tug on my hair or... or ride on me! Please, I'll take hell over that! Anything but that.

Were those human voices I sometimes heard? Were those my new owners, me being a mere object in their eyes? Or was I destined to live my life in isolation as a lab rat? Constantly being experimented on for whatever reason and purpose...

I couldn’t take that reality, my poor existence wouldn’t be able to live with that. I would break, I knew that with a hundred percent certainty.

Instead of eternal torture in hell, a mass murderer with a questionable fetish for hands, or reincarnation as a human baby (heck, even the petting zoo would be more humane than my newest theory), I was some kind of genetic experiment in some unknown lab out in the middle of nowhere, wasn’t I? But for what purpose would these extra limbs on my back be needed by them? Was it an attempt at breeding a weapon for an obscure and far-off war that was more efficient than a normal animal? Why even use animals in the first place when you had soldiers and machines to do the dirty work for you?

Even more dread started to rise up within me as my mind wandered over to some rich guy wanting an exotic pet, deciding to create a hybrid out of different animals. What have I been turned into? How come no one was putting a stop to this inhumane experiment? Or have I been reincarnated so far into the distant future that this was a legal thing now?

Fuck, and here I thought people were panicking needlessly over the whole designer baby bullshit while I was still a human. Have they found a way to dramatically alter the genes of mammals so that something of this magnitude was achievable?

Suddenly, I didn’t want to ever leave this place if it meant living in captivity by some rich idiot thinking this was okay. Everything was better than that possibility. Fuck, I would take hell over this! Or the damn petting zoo! Or whatever other horrifying fate my mind could come up with, to be honest.

Another poke brought me out of my panic-induced mind. I tried swatting the offending appendage away from me, but nothing came from it. Well, in the sense of getting my sibling to stop, from the outside I heard what sounded suspiciously like giggling and happy mumbling.

That... that couldn’t be right. I was sure the giggling came from the being I was currently taking unwanted refuge in. Was this genetic experiment even more convoluted than I originally thought?

Or... was this something different entirely?

My mind tried to remember every little bit and piece I could about fictional characters being reborn. I had read a lot over the years, most of the books I had were gathering dust in our personal library in our home. And in all the books I had read over the years, there wasn’t all that much about reincarnation to be found in them.

It was either the slow way or some godly force playing favorites with an unfortunate mortal that caught their attention. And since I didn't believe in any of that, it must be a natural cycle of life and death, repeating endlessly. If that were the case, though... why could I still remember who I was in my previous life? What was different now?

Or did I get lucky? I certainly didn't feel all that lucky. Not after everything I went through, every fear and possibility I had to face to arrive at this point. I had frighteningly little information at my disposal. And yet, I knew more than I did at the start of this nonsensical journey. Nothing made sense anymore.

If this wasn’t some kind of experiment and my new mother was apparently capable of speech (or expressing feelings with giggles at the very least), then where was I? What place even had other sentient species aside from humans? Certainly not anywhere from where I came from, that's for sure. Earth was a vast place, but something like that would have been noticed ages ago.

The answer my brain provided me with was far more nerve-wracking than all my previous theories up to this point. While I have never heard of the concept of reincarnating as another creature as smart as humans, my thoughts went to those generic isekai novels my wife liked to read so much (it was almost like a drug to her). She would flip her shit over something like this, enjoying every moment of it. And then do something perverted like seducing her sibling out of grief, but that's another thing entirely.

She has her flaws, okay? I loved her regardless. Thinking about it... she probably is going to try something with her sister now that I am gone, won't she? Besides the multitude of other, even more perverted, things on top of that, that is. Sometimes I wonder what went wrong in her childhood for her to have turned out like that, but I had to admit that I loved her even more for it (not the 'making moves on your own sibling' part, though).

Haah. Anyway, enough of that, back to the topic on hand. Or whatever limb I now had. I wasn't too sold on the hooves idea just yet, even though it was the most likely one.

It was a popular trope in fiction, wasn't it? Reincarnated to a different world or universe. That was the basic concept behind those kinds of stories, wasn’t it? That meant that, not only was I now a child of some creature that apparently had weird limbs on their back, but I was also forever cut off from seeing my family. I couldn’t even see what future generations of my loved ones would have been like, had this been the future. No, I was entirely removed from that possibility.

This was worse than hell, a mass murderer, a petting zoo, some government experimenting on animals, a rich guy wanting exotic pets, and being reincarnated in the future all combined. My anguish lasted for what felt like months. All the while I was being subjected to the annoying touch of someone that couldn’t take no for an answer.

That really reminded me of my wife, sometimes. She also didn’t know when to stop, especially when it came to the topic of sex. It didn't matter where we were, she had no shame at all (seriously, she once asked me if I wanted her to suck my dick... at a restaurant! In front of the waiter, no less!).

Anyway! As time went on, regardless of what I felt about it, and I was left to quietly stew in my anger at the universe, it started to get tighter and tighter in our confines. I couldn’t hold on to my grief forever and I was getting tired of feeling miserable because of that.

Here I was, mourning the loss of something I would never be able to see again, wallowing in self-pity for such a long time my wife would have told me in no uncertain terms to get over it and start smiling again. Then she would have told me to have even more kinky sex, like the perverted idiot that she was. My perverted idiot, though...

I wanted to cry as I slowly began to feel acceptance of my fate. I have to accept that I wasn’t ever going back home, that I wouldn’t get to see my kids grow up into adults of their own right and grant me grandchildren. I knew my wife would move on eventually. Probably. Hopefully...

I felt angry that I was getting over this so easily as time passed on and the day of my rebirth came ever closer. I wanted to have my wife with me, so much. She was my rock, my everything. How could I go on without her? Life was meaningless without her at my side.

And, as I felt my body grow into the being that would see the light of day with entirely new eyes, I felt something even more devastatingly different about my body. It wasn’t the tail, the foreign limbs on my back, or the pointy nub on my head. No, it was what was between my hindlegs that changed my entire perspective anew.

I might have been someone that at some point wanted to know what it felt like on the other side of the fence, but coupled with everything that I had lost? I felt like laughing madly for the rest of time.

I was a friggin’ girl. A girl... pony? I think. I mean, my hooves (there was no mistaking it now that those were indeed hooves) were entirely too small to belong to a newborn horse. I mean... not that I knew how big hooves were supposed to be, I guess.

How was I supposed to feel about this? On the one hand, or I guess hoof now (pony-isms were kinda cute, gotta be honest here), I wanted to rage and kick and scream about the unfairness of the universe, but on the other one, I... felt kinda excited.

Excited to experience what no one before me could. At least, not to the degree of being biologically female from the very start. I felt... happy about this. Was this normal? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. But it felt so... right. As if I was meant to be female in the first place and I never realized it. A deep part buried in my subconsciousness just clicked with the thought and I knew with absolute certainty I would never want to go back.

You know... this reminded me a lot of those transgender people I always empathized with. People don’t deserve to be born with the wrong sex, nor did they deserve to be treated like trash because of it. It was torture in itself that no one should have to go through. Sadly, even with modern medicine, it couldn’t replicate everything a body of the opposite sex had. Those people would never experience the joy of being a parent in the way they wanted. Not without jumping through a lot of hoops and a lot of heartaches along the way.

Bigotry was all kinds of bad for homosexual people already, transgender people had it no easier. If anything, it might be even harder for them to be themselves around idiots that constantly try to force them back into the closet and make them more miserable than before. It takes a brave and strong person to weather that kind of storm and still smile, even as they get denied that which they should have had from the beginning.

It was a hard-fought battle for each and every one of them. The right to be who they are, deep down. And in some ways, they were better off for it. I was envious of those that found the courage to look inside and recognize their true self. It took literally reincarnating for me to be able to do so. To even consider it.

And that was everything I could do, unable to change a thing about my situation. I started thinking. Thinking about everything in my life with a new perspective. A new and enlightened one.

For one thing... I always kept wondering what it would have been like had I been the one to carry our children... or at least one of them. A forgotten memory of a feeling resurfaced, a feeling of jealousy as I watched on as my wife carried our children instead of me.

I wanted to have what my wife had and I never could admit it to myself. I hid my feelings in fear of confronting my own desires, afraid no one would accept me for who I was.

I lived a lie, a farce, and I deluded myself into thinking I was happy with everything I had. That it was 'good enough' and that I didn't need to risk everything for the off-chance of being able to pass after forty years of life. While I wasn't exactly the most manliest man in existence, there was no way anyone could mistake my gaunt face for what it was.

And yet, despite all of that, it wouldn't have been too hard for me to make it work. I knew my wife would have supported me no matter what.

It was like a punch to the face. An ice-cold realization. A wake-up call.

I was transgender and never noticed it, not until now...

That would explain so much about my childhood. Feeling more comfortable around other girls, having an aversion towards fighting, sweat, dirt, and grime most of the boys didn’t overly seem to mind as much as I did, the occasional confused glance at some of the kids around me. Playing girly games and acting more feminine before I lost that spark of hope...

It would also explain why I dreaded puberty so much. The feeling of resignation as I grew into an adult, unable to change a thing as I had no idea what was making me feel these things.

All of that could mean nothing, in the end. But despite that, I was certain that some part of me knew, always knew, that something was different about me. That there was something that set me apart from everyone else.

The feelings of jealousy towards girls and other women as I grew up different than them. The fact that I didn’t think there was anything wrong with wanting to know what it was like to have grown up like they did, too afraid to voice out such thoughts. Sometimes I wondered what I would have looked like, had I been born female from the very beginning. Or if I had voiced out my feelings early enough to my parents. I could have avoided the wrong puberty had I known.

I really was transgender, wasn’t I? My heart told me I was right about this, but my mind rebelled against the idea. I loved my wife dearly, was that just a lie I told myself? That couldn’t be true, though! It couldn’t!

My mind was so occupied that I didn’t notice that something was changing around me. The confusion in me warred with every emotion, throwing me down a spiral of sadness and, oddly enough, happiness.

No, my feelings for my wife were never false, that I knew with absolute certainty. I might have been jealous of her, now that I think about it, but that didn’t change my feelings about her.

It was the body that didn't match my true self at the time. Had I been aware of my feelings in my previous life and gone through transition, I’m certain I would have still loved my wife with all of my heart. In no way could anything less have been the case, she was just the type of character that demanded someone to fall in love with her (much to the chagrin of her sister).

I knew with absolute certainty I would have still fallen in love with her, not only because I still felt attracted to females, but also because my wife was actually the perverted one in our relationship and wouldn’t have been stopped by me being a woman myself.

She would have even loved it, I’m sure.

Some of the things she had me do bordered on dressing me up as a girl so she could at least pretend for a while to be in a lesbian relationship. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed then, but now I knew. I knew with so much clarity, making me want to hit myself for having been so oblivious to my own plight.

Fuck, I’m sure if I had told her I had the suspicion that I was transgender, she would have found a way to be a pervert about it. She would have even made me go through with it, just to sate her fetishes. I couldn’t have gotten mad at her for that, though (even if I wanted to), mainly because her intentions were always well-meant.

A slight breeze fluttered against my face and I felt something wrap itself around me. For a moment I was confused at what was going on, as it was the first real break from the routine of sleeping, being poked at by my sibling, and the constant flood of thoughts. And other bodily functions that shall not be mentioned.

Anything that broke the boredom was a welcome change I embraced with open arms. The feeling of coldness was almost alien now, not having experienced it in such a long while. Was I free now? Have I at last been released from the prison within my new mother?

As I opened my eyes for the first time, I happily noticed I wasn’t in the womb of my mother anymore. And while my newborn eyes were unused to the input of light and everything was kind of blurry, I could still make out a few things. We were in what appeared to be a small cottage and through an opening in the wall that could generously be called a window, I saw the sight of two suns in the sky, about to dip down below the horizon.

The loving faces of what could only be my father and mother greeted me with bright smiles. My mother was a beautiful mare, lacking the weird, fragile appendages I felt flutter at my sides, but a spiraling horn glowed a soft green color amidst a light blue mane. Her twinkling golden eyes looked upon me with pride and affection, while her dark blue muzzle was stretched out in a wide (but exhausted) grin.

“She has my mother’s eyes, dear. Both of them,” the deep voice of my father spoke in a deep commanding tone.

“And they have your color of hair,” my mother smirked and I noticed that yes, I did have his hair color. A bright fucking pink. Seriously? I might have realized I actually wanted to be a girl but that didn’t mean I wanted to go full-tilt feminine. Can I try my luck at reincarnation again? Anything just to be rid of this color scheme...

Argent Star, as I learned was his name, was a very tall stallion who had a pair of wings at his side. Bright white wings that shouldn’t be possible, by any means. I mean, a horn I understand, but what the fuck went wrong with their evolution that they had the possibility to have wings?!

That at least cleared away one mystery for me. Whatever I was, I was a cross between a unicorn and a pegasus. Chances are, my sibling has the same traits. I was a mini version of my father with a pointy nub on my forehead, and I wasn’t happy about that. Not one single bit. I didn’t want to look almost exactly like my new father, for fuck’s sake!

“What should we name them?” he asked her and Lunar Sky (that’s the name of my new mother, by the way) gave out a small hum.

“A good question, dear,” she answered. “I don’t think any of the names we thought of would do them justice.”

Her eyes followed my curious stare out of the window towards where the two suns were setting.

“How about Summer Sol for this little cutie and Celestia Sol for this mischievous filly?” she spoke up, setting me down beside the other bundle of cloth and fur.

“You’re naming them after the suns?” he asked her, a smile slowly spreading in approval. So, that was what they were called here? The Summer Sun, it’s a nice name if I have to say so myself.

“They are our little rays of sunshine, are they not?” she shot back, daring him to say otherwise.

“That they are. They are quite unique, don’t you think so? I don’t think I have ever seen a hybrid between the two tribes like that,” Argent said. “You don’t think they will be ostracized, do you?”

“I have no idea, dear,” Sky said, frowning slightly. “The tensions have been rising as of late. I don’t want to subject them to this unnecessary hatred.”

“We don’t have to fear for their well-being here, we are living quite remotely from any settlement. Should the tension get out of hoof and reach us here then we can always pack up and move further south,” he reasoned, throwing a reassuring wing over her back.

“I hope you are right,” she said, leaning into his side with a little nuzzle and content sigh. “For now, let us just enjoy this moment.”

“Yes, I imagine you must be quite tired after yelling so loud I fear you have scared off every bird in the forest,” he chuckled, ignoring the friendly swat of his wife. As I let out a little yawn, I heard them coo at the sight. “Seems little Summer agrees with me.”

“Her sister seems quite energetic, though,” my mother commented, watching my sister as she broke free from her loose bundles of linen. My eyes shot wide open as I felt her glomp down on my left ear and I began to squirm in discomfort.

The memory of my wife flashed before me, her doing the same in quite a similar fashion during the last few years. It had been a new development of habit that she had gotten after reading one too many adult novels.

She always developed new fetishes just to drop them later once she got bored enough of them. Before that, it was my chin. Don't ask.

Of course, the first thing my new sister did to me left me wanting to cry out in grief, sadness, and mourning. I felt despair claw at my small and very fragile heart, threatening to swallow me whole.

A green glow from the horn of my mother separated us two not a moment later. Argent was laughing silently all the while. At least one of us felt mirth at my discomfort, friggin' asshole. But, to be honest, I would have reacted the same way in his position so I didn’t hold it against him. Overly much, that is.

A few seconds later, I was also enveloped in the glow of what could only be magic, making me go wide-eyed at the feat with wonder and fascination. Not a moment later I got to see where she was taking me. My sister was already happily gorging herself on the milk from one of the teats in front of us.

Oh, for everything that was holy, this wasn’t really happening right now, was it? I mean, if my wife were in a situation like this she would happily go along with this, unable to repress the pervert in her. Or stuff herself for a minor piece of comfort, not unlike my new twin sister.

My stomach let out a pang as I was set down in front of one of Mom’s teats and my mind threw a fit at me. I couldn’t really consider doing what my body demanded of me, could I?

This was something I hadn’t even considered all this time within the womb of my mother, always thinking about things that wouldn’t affect me for years to come. How could I have been so foolish? Of course, the essential need for sustenance would have to be addressed as soon as I wasn’t passively leeching off of my mother anymore.

I was admittedly (and shamefully) suckling beside my twin as the hungry god within my tummy demanded to be sated. This certainly wasn’t how I imagined the first few moments of my life to be like. It was degrading and embarrassing, but I shut out the complaining part of my psyche as I guiltily enjoyed the taste of the milk.

Much to my dismay, my sister had no qualms about trying to take away my dinner, either. Were it not for our mother, she would have succeeded at that, too. I could already tell that she would be a pain in the flank to deal with in the coming years. Celestia proved to be just as greedy for food as my wife and it was just as adorable as her stealing bits and pieces from my plate during the many dates we went on.

I shut my eyes tightly and forced myself to stop comparing her to my wife. Going down that road only led to madness. And with me still grieving the loss of my beloved, that was not something I wanted to entertain.

Celestia was going to be her own person, damnit. Not some kind of replacement for Catherine, so I told my mind to take a hike and stop comparing them to each other. It was not fair of me to think like this, to either of them.

Celestia is not Catherine, end of story. I won't let this shadow get in between us and ruin this opportunity to get to know my sister as my sister and not this haunted memory of my wife. I won't treat her as someone she is not. I won't alienate her from me this early on in life. I have to be a good sister for her.

I have to accept the reality of my situation or I won't ever be able to live my new life to the fullest. I can't waste this chance to live life anew. My life on Earth ended, it's time I stop pretending I could go back and be together with my wife again. I can be a child again and learn to love somepony else, eventually.

The hollow feeling in my chest persisted as I made that vow to myself, refusing to fade away. And I fear it never would. I had given a piece of my heart to my wife and I would never be whole again without her.

For better or worse, I would have to learn how to live with that feeling. In a way, Celestia filled that void now and I swore I would never leave her side. She was too precious for me to abandon her only because of a few silly similarities.

After our first meal was over, we were placed in a crib together, and sleep soon followed after. And, as I quickly found out, Celestia was a clingy newborn. I didn’t mind the embrace by her, though. It felt nice and warm. A little smile graced both of our muzzles in our slumber and I felt a little bit more at ease knowing she would be there, growing up with me.

I could do without the wake-up call of my sister nibbling on my ear, though. And in the middle of the night, too. I let out a little whimper, unable to stop the tears from coming as I also felt the pangs of hunger start up again.

Damn this childish body. Damn Celestia for making me cry. Damn me for making her cry in return. Only she was the loud one, not helping my poor ears and stressed-out self.

I might have dealt with my daughters like the loving parent that I was when they cried to the high heavens and not complained about it, but this was an entirely different matter altogether. This wasn’t me taking care of a little baby, trying to figure out what it was that they wanted from me.

No, I was the child now and got to experience these things while perfectly capable of understanding what was happening to me, not like Celestia (or my first time as a baby, even though I don’t remember it). This was me filling the role of the newborn now, unable to properly address my need to the ones taking care of me.

Thankfully, our parents didn’t freak out trying to figure out what we wanted. It seemed Sky had a good mother’s intuition and was able to calm us down in record time. Seriously, I would have loved to have had her with me when I had my first kid. Perhaps it was something ponies knew on an instinctual level?

“You two are so adorable, my little fillies,” our mother whispered fondly after preventing my sister from going after my meal. Again. “Now, if you would just stop going after your sister’s meal, everything would be just perfect.”

After I was done and feeling satisfyingly full, I couldn’t help the little burp from escaping me. It managed to confuse me quite a lot. I thought horses (or equines, I suppose) didn’t do that. Were ponies here different in some way? I mean, it wasn’t a big thing, not like the whole ‘having wings and a horn’ thing or... you know... being reincarnated, but still. What else was different in that case?

As it turns out, ponies were also perfectly capable of throwing up after stuffing their stomachs full. I could have sworn horses weren’t supposed to be able to do that, either. It didn’t help that I now had a half-digested meal from Celestia all over me.

Way to go, sister. Way to go...

That led to us having to take a bath in the middle of the night. I could tell Mother wasn’t too happy with that, but she gave us the bath with a loving smile on her muzzle.

Celestia was having fun with the warm water and a bit later with the end of my tail. I really wished she would stop using me as her chewing toy. At least she left my wings alone as I was sure I wouldn't enjoy being chewed on there.

I guess in some ways she knew more restraint than my wife, huh? Yay for that...

Not long after our bath, we were back in our bed. Celestia managed to somehow drape herself right over my back and I found out that I didn’t quite mind as much as I thought I would. At least she wasn’t squishing my wings or nibbling on my ears this time around. Small miracles, that.

The next morning arrived in no time. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Celestia hadn’t latched on to any part of my body with her mouth. Instead, I saw her with the end of the blanket in her muzzle. The sight was entirely too adorable to resist giggling about it.

It was something that reminded me of my own daughter when she was as little as we were now. She also had the habit of latching on to the blanket in her sleep, causing us to have to wash it every other day.

I even found myself starting to forgive her for throwing up on me last night. Not that I was capable of holding a grudge for long. Already I felt myself growing closer to Celestia, actually enjoying her antics. Who could say no to this cute bundle of fur and feathers?

Just like I couldn’t resist the charm of Catherine, Celestia weaseled her way into my heart in no time. Not in a romantic way, but in a sisterly way. I would do my best to be the best sister I could be to her. She deserved at least that much, and my own family would roast my backside if I ever managed to hurt my own twin.

Even if that meant never being able to deny her anything that she wanted. Celestia could beg me for one thing or another and I would say yes without hesitation. Something I dearly feared she would come to exploit a lot in our later years, and I was sure she would somehow find out about it sooner rather than later.

I was pretty bad at lying, after all. Saying no and meaning it? Yeah, that won’t ever come across as genuine. She would see right through it, I’m certain of that. If my wife was already notorious for doing so, Celestia would be just as able at it, I could tell.

I was an open book, what can I say?

As it turns out, our parents were also unable to say no to us. Over the following days, Celestia managed to break free from the confines of our crib by the use of the little appendages on her back. This also made me curious and soon enough we were absolute terrors to deal with.

I’m not sure how I would have coped with flying children in my previous life, but it couldn’t have been anything good. I mean, I already felt like we should be bound down to our bed so we couldn’t hurt ourselves. How far would I have actually gone to make sure that nothing happened to my children? What would I have resorted to if I was the one having to take care of someone like me?

We were absolute monsters to our parents. Well, more to our dad because he couldn’t do jack-shit to stop us from getting to the most impossible places with our little wings (serves him right for giving me pink hair). It was a miracle he wasn’t frothing at the corners of his mouth by the end of the first week, let alone the first month.

Celestia and I behaved like the curious children that didn’t know any better and lacked the definition of 'No' in our dictionary, constantly getting into trouble. At least, as long as our mother wasn’t there. She always managed to rein me in no matter what. I had to curse my childish body multiple times as I gave in to the urge of playing around like Celestia, managing to drive my father up the wall as he was unable to stop us like our mother could.

I was only slightly sorry for him, still not having forgiven him for inheriting his pink hair. I was fine with the white fur over my body, but I drew the line at pink. Seriously, why did it have to be pink? Paint my walls pink for all I care, I don’t want to live the rest of my however long life with pink hair.

Please, don’t let me die randomly again. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. The thought of leaving my adorable sister behind, too, would break my heart entirely. Let’s not dwell on such dark thoughts again, Summer. Remember the promise you made to yourself. No more 'life is meaningless'. You can do this. No biggie. Take a deep breath and pony on.

Wait... did I just call myself Summer?

I mean, it kinda is my name now. Why shouldn’t I use it? Although, it did leave behind a bitter taste in my mouth. Was I really ready to just throw away my old identity for this? Rudolph Baker was dead, that much was abundantly clear at this point. If there ever was a 'Rudolph' Baker, in the first place, that is. But still, was my old life getting less important to me now? That wasn't exactly my intention when I told myself I would try to move on.

Now that I think about it, in another time and another life, my human mother would have also named me Summer had I been a girl. Perhaps Rose to honor her old family name. It was the reason why I named my little petal after her.

This new body seemed very insistent on adapting to my new environment. When I thought of my mom, I thought of Lunar Sky instead of my human mom. Did that make me a bad person? Pony?

No, I wasn’t throwing away my old life. I was... merely accepting my new one, I decided. I was still the same person I was as Rudolph. I still loved my human family as much as the new one I had here. I just... seemed to latch onto the only source of comfort and safety for now.

My old family wasn’t here to help me through these more than tough times (and literally change my diapers, although I wasn’t mad that I had to wear those considering my body lacked the necessary 'practice' to... you know... keep it in). So, of course, I would feel that Mom meant Lunar Sky and not my old one. She was here right now while I had left behind a grieving family.

Their son was dead, I had to accept that. I couldn’t come back, and even if I could, they wouldn’t recognize me like this (not that I wanted to go back to pretending to be a man). I had a family here and a very loving one at that. Sure, Celestia was sometimes annoying, but weren’t all sisters supposed to be? I loved my family as a human and I vowed to love my new family just as much as a pony.

Now I wasn’t feeling quite as bad about calling myself Summer anymore. It didn’t feel like I was betraying my old self. Rather, I was honoring it. I would uphold the same ideals of kindness and generosity just as much as I did as Rudolph. I would keep that promise no matter what. It was everything I still had, I couldn't leave that behind.

I was still me, after all. Even if I was a pony now. And that pony would be a good role model for my sister if it was the last thing I did! She deserves nothing less of me. The thought of having a sister of my own filled my heart with warmth. If only Catherine was here with me. Everything would have been perfect in that case.

It would be better to not dwell on such thoughts. I know I can do it. I just... have to keep myself distracted from them.

Good thing life was never boring with Celestia around. And there were other things we could focus on to make things a bit more interesting for us, aside from playing with each other.

The first winter we experienced was unlike anything I had ever seen on Earth. Granted, it was extremely cold, that's for sure, but also exponentially more beautiful. Trees that previously looked so ordinary you wouldn’t have given them a second glance were now turned into crystalline sculptures that demanded your full attention and nothing less. It was like a piece of art painted by nature itself.

The small lake by our house was like a perfect mirror, reflecting the breathtaking view of the two stars from above. The glare of the suns that was reflected upon it made the surrounding trees and shrubberies sparkle, shine, and twinkle a brilliant yellowish red the closer it got to evening.

Our dad laughed at us as we pawed away at the falling snowflakes, gently drifting down from a single, large cloud up above. He had been gone all morning, doing whatever it was that he did in his free time. As he came back, though, he told Mom he had a small surprise for her and bundled my sister and me up in as many layers of linen as we needed to not freeze to death.

And then, he showed us the view we were all admiring now, steaming mugs of tea in front of him and Mom.

“Thank you, dear,” Sky said, resting her head against his. “It’s wonderful. And the fillies love it.”

“Of course,” he nuzzled her, a small smirk on his muzzle. “Anything for you.”

“Anything~?” she giggled, fluttering her eyelids at him. He let out a blush and I wanted to gag. Of course, they just had to go lovey-dovey on us and I’m sure I would hear them do it later in the evening after my sister and I had been fed and put to bed. “What do you say to lighting up a few candles and...”

A slimy tongue invaded the inside of my ear as Celestia managed to tune their conversation out and for once I was glad that she did so. I let out a squeal, squirming around in her grasp, and she continued to abuse my ear to her heart's content even as I felt the chill of the air make my fur stand straight up. Pretty sure that was also something that ponies shouldn’t be capable of, but I didn’t care at the moment. Maybe we were part cat?

Celestia let out a happy hum, making me giggle from the vibrations running through my ear. I gave up on breaking free from her after that and stayed still in her embrace, quietly suffering through her affections. I might have been tempted to think she did this on purpose, but that was just a ridiculous thought, wasn’t it? That would imply she was way smarter than I gave her credit for.

All the other times she acted like any other child would have spoken against it, and I desperately held onto that notion. Otherwise, it would mean she knew perfectly well what our parents were talking about and that was in no way okay in my mind.

She hadn’t seen them do... that... had she? Oh, please, don’t let her be traumatized by that, already! I’m not certain that she could even understand what that act meant, but I have been wrong about so many things concerning ponies, for all I knew they knew what reproduction and sex meant at an early age!

I wanted to throw up. I needed brain bleach, seriously. And then I needed brain bleach for my twin because that shouldn’t be something she should have memories of. Fuck, those were memories I never wanted, either!

I felt myself get lifted off the ground by the familiar humming sound of our mother’s magic aura and we were brought back into the house where it was cozy and warm. Mom settled down in front of the fireplace, presenting her teats to us as she had done so often by now. I’m not sure when we would finally get to drink from bottles, I couldn’t wait to stop myself from feeling embarrassed each and every time we had to eat.

Celestia had no qualms about greedily sucking down the liquid from within them, though. And if I didn’t hurry, there would be nothing left for me and my hungry tummy. Or the angry god that slumbered within.

“Not so hasty, little one,” Mom giggled, eating from her own plate Dad provided for her. Argent had put one of his large wings over her back as they watched us with pride and fondness. Celestia disregarded her warning, still going at it like she was about to starve and then some.

“You will have to watch out for that one, dear,” Argent snickered, munching on whatever he and Mom were having for their meal. It looked a bit like fish, but I wasn't sure. Ponies don't eat meat, do they? Or this was another one of those weird differences I have noticed so far. “If she continues on like that, she will throw up again.”

“Not on my watch, Argent,” Sky shot back, looking back at him with an upturned muzzle. Thankfully, Celestia didn’t throw up on either of us, so there was that.

Speaking of throwing up, though, the thought of a pony with their muzzle buried in the guts of a poor deer did make me queasy, quite a lot. I could do fish if I have to, but cute little innocent animals? Those I could not do. At least... not when I have to watch them die... begging me with their big eyes to have mercy on them... not knowing if they had children of their own to look after...

While there were some fish that looked nice from afar, up close... those soulless eyes were unnerving me to no end. I would lose no sleep over eating those. Not that I was a fan of fish, in the first place. The taste was... kind of weird. Maybe my new pony tastebuds might change that.

And fish rarely cared for their offspring, so... they are soulless monsters. End of story.

Anyway! The days were thankfully quiet following our little day trip to enjoy the snow while it lasted, the only thing that managed to break the monotony was Celestia continuing to harass my ear. Thankfully, neither of us ever witnessed our parents have their... ahem, alone time... and I was immensely glad for that.

What I wasn't thankful for was the lack of noise-canceling headphones. I really do not need to hear their passionate cries, moans, and grunts every other day. I made sure to be an extra difficult child whenever they got a bit too out of hoof with their fun time, just to enact my terrible vengeance on them.

It ended up being more cute than anything, making them d'aww and chuckle at me. I gave up on getting my revenge pretty soon after that. What use were my tantrums if they didn't see them like that?

Another notable thing that happened was Celestia lighting up our bed with bright blue flames soon after that, causing our parents to panic for a moment. The giggling coming from my twin managed to calm them down (somewhat) and seeing that the flames didn’t actually consume us in a fiery blaze was cause for relief.

That begged the question though, how did Celestia do that? I had no luck with accessing my own magic (yet), so I wondered what she did differently than me. At least Mom was able to extinguish the flames before they actually grew out of control and started to burn things.

And continuing that disaster, Celestia turned our cushions and toys into plush versions of ourselves because random bursts of magic were apparently more prone to show in early foalhood once you started using your horn. Mom was giggling for days at the sight of our bed having been flooded with stuffed plushies looking so much like us you had to search through all of them to find our giggling selves.

After that, I actually got the hang of some basic telekinesis, as well. It was surprisingly easy and instinctual, requiring only the desire to hold something aloft that made my horn light up in a golden aura.

That brought about an entirely new era of mischief on behalf of my twin and myself. Dad had no chance against us as I levitated the plushies around that Tia created with the stuff I offered her.

Our army was vast. Our army was strong. Our army was endless! Mwahahaha! None shall stop us!

Suffice it to say, our mother put a stop to the antics of me and my sister after it started to get out of hoof. I was left pouting grumpily to myself while Tia happily returned to munching on my ears again.

There goes all my fun...