Kaffein

by Salespony

Rating: mature
Tags: Violence, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Drama, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Adventure, Fancypants
Length: 15909

A Prussian gets sent to Equestria.

When cornered, does an animal accept its fate or does it fight back? The choices it picks throughout life are of its own accord. All the sins and virtues it carries are its responsibility. It has none to blame for its predicament other than itself. It reaps what it sows.

Kaff is a man who has all and his future to lose. Though over, the Seven Years War is still fresh on his mind as he finds himself in the Americas, standing under another empire's banner. As his Prussian origins are nought but memories, he clings to what little he has left. He struck a dead-end back home, but maybe this time he'll find something different.

A big thank you to my editor jonboss86 for making this story possible. Also special thanks to Stinium_Ruide for extra help in proofreading and general criticism.

This story is a rewrite of Coffee and Gunpowder with substantial differences. I chose to make a different story so that the previous work could still be read freely. I will do my best to follow update schedules, but I make no guarantees. Image by Carl Röchling.

Published 2021-12-31 20:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-08-19 15:03:47 UTC

Nothing You Can Do

In the rhythm and beat of drums and the sound of bugles, men marched in practiced unison to their cadence and their captains’ calls. Red coats blazed under the bright sun as each man stood in line, muskets at their shoulder. They waited, standing proud under the commanding gaze of the Union Jack, unbreaking and ceaseless to the arrows whizzing overhead.

Entire sections of a line, dozens of men fresh and veteran alike, would fall under a single bowmen’s volley. The officers dare not let the enlisted route nor break, their position more valuable than the loss of life incurred by the barrage. The men stood their ground in stillness, waiting for further orders as their brothers-in-arms fell all around them.

If they were struck, all they could do was fall. Their cries of pain would be heard by none. The men still standing were not permitted to help, only ignore. It was the nature of warfare. All the men could do was wait in silence and hope to God they weren’t next to be chosen by fate.

On the other side, the Indians charged, roaring their war cries with great fire and passion as British lines moved and shuffled to compensate for their losses. Halfway through reaching melee distance, grapeshot tore into their ranks.

Thousands upon thousands of tiny metal scraps flew across the battlefield to tear into skin and bone, digging through muscle and arteries and turning the bravest and most skilled soldier into nothing more but a pile of mangled flesh yearning for death’s release.

The shrieking, pained screams of agony halted their advance. All for but a moment they stopped, their battle cries for naught. They could do nothing but let their fallen bleed before them.

They were standing on fields they had once owned, the ground lost and matted with their own people’s blood and gore. They broke, retreating without a single kill to avenge their fallen.

They screamed bloody murder as they ran, sparking fear into the hearts of their comrades who moments ago bore witness to genocide. They were up next. This, all the while the British closed the gap in their lines, forming a solid block once more, an endless sea of red to the Indians’ eyes.

Far behind the lines of infantry, cannon batteries sat under the watchful eye of the unified blue, red, and white of Britain’s flag. Cannons, standing smoking, restless, and deadly to all under their gaze, were manned by those who wasted no time in feeding the artillery gunpowder and shot. The men moved like machines, making sure every volley would cost the enemy more men than the ammunition’s worth in trade. A bloody cog in the great war machine that was Britain.

Some distance away, just on the outskirts of the forest, a soldier on the saddleback of a thoroughbred sighed, breathing in the tangy scent of burnt sulfur wafting throughout the company of mounted infantry. He coughed.

“Do not breathe in too deep, Kaffein, lest you want to end up falling off thy horseback in midst of the gallop behind enemy lines. It’d be a task and a half to carry your carcass all the way back to Europe,'' the man beside him, who he came to know as Frederick, joked.

Wiping his mouth, Kaff took a firm grasp of his mount’s rein and waved the younger man off. “Mayhaps this old bastard’s about to keel over. Give him a minute to recover, and he may just outclass the loud-mouthed neophyte.”

“There’s the old coot I know,” Frederick said, lightly bumping his horse with Kaff’s in a friendly manner, his broad smile not lost under the shade of centuries-old pine trees blanketing the forest grounds of these foreign lands.

The two formed up and fell at attention with the other soldiers. Some fell silent or kept their distance away from Kaff. The few guards that tolerated him would simply nod at his arrival without much banter, understanding that the Captain had let him into his entourage informally. Kaff nodded back.

With the distant sound of crackling gunfire, the company of eighty or so mounted infantry—or more accurately named dragoons—trotted through the forest. The men idly chit-chatted earfuls about the other regiments in the division. News such as the shortage of both officers and enlisted, the midnight raids, or whatever else newsworthy the Indian tribes managed to sprout in the midst of war became the normal topic of conversation.

They casually spoke while roaring cannon and mortar fire boomed across the sky. The sound of those shots would make itself known to its intended targets moments later, pounding enemy lines into submission.

“Good soldier, what do you make of this war?”

“Pardon me, sir?” Kaff asked in response, darting to look the Captain in the eyes while doing so.

Chest puffed with medals worn proud on his overcoat, the Captain reiterated his words, “I’m curious to know what a Prussian thinks of this whole back and forth us Brits and the savages are going through. Surely you have a comment, seeing as your countrymen are some of the most war-torn grunts in the whole entirety of Europe.”

Kaff took a moment to form a reply, as angering his superior was not his intention. “Savages, sir? Surely these locals merit more respect from us after the amount of fighting they’ve managed to put up.”

One of the sergeants spoke up and answered for the Captain, “They don't believe in God, they’re fine with nudity, and they refuse to kneel to both the church and the crown. Need I say more, soldier?”

“Calm yourself, Sergeant. He’s a man of culture! One who is used to serving the nobility. If I required the opinion of a common man, I could have simply asked you instead.” He turned back to face Kaff. “As you were.”

In the corner of his eyes, Kaff could see the other men staring at him after the Captain had made that comment. He strung his next words carefully. “Well, I have to say I did not expect our forces to march this far deep into the Americas. Our supply lines with the colonies are starting to thin. And the locals proved to be far more cunning than what meets the eye, or so I observed.”

While it sustained the Thirteen Colonies, the Americas still left much to be discovered far inland. Discounting the Hudson, this plot of land wasn’t even connected with the rest of his Majesty's colonies. And to think they were marching straight into the heart of the continent, right through Indian territory.

“Hmmph, yes. If those cannoneers were more thorough in destroying their abandoned equipment, I’d say these brutes would’ve never gotten their hands on our twelve-pounders. God knows how long artillery takes to arrive from the factories. The last thing we need are savages firing cannons willy-nilly in our direction.”

Kaff nodded. The Captain didn’t budge with his choice of words so he pressed no further. “Though it would seem we’re nearing a stalemate, sir.”

The Captain was taken aback by Kaff’s comment. “Why would you say that, soldier? We are cutting right through their numbers. I don’t see how a stalemate could possibly happen with how fast we’ve been, how do I say… exterminating them.”

“Well ...wrong word, sir. Pardon my mistake. Numbers are exactly the problem. I meant to say that us spearheading right through their lands didn’t spur that much of a reaction from their forces. One would think they would throw everything they have, but so far we’ve only encountered a fraction of their armies.”

“A fraction? We’ve cut down plenty of these Indians! The other officers and I have only heard victories from every battle we’ve fought on these, soon-to-be-our lands.”

Kaff shook his head. “I’ve sourced and gathered data regarding numerous topics on this continent, one of which being an estimate on the local population. And despite being divided, they do have a common interest, which is a rather unsettling thought.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow. “What are you implying, Kaffein?”

“Well... let us take stock of current events. Cannons missing, midnight raids which lead to the shortage of officers for many of our regiments, and if we also take into account the lack of resistance…”

“A trap? Hah!” the Captain exclaimed, the smug grin on his face overlooked by none. “You’re a fool to think these brutes can even fathom the idea of intrigue.”

The Sergeant from before made himself known once more. “Good to see you’re not taking any advice from the ex-pat, sir.” He turned to Kaff, his brow furrowing. “Here’s a suggestion: how about you leave the actual fighting to the professionals.”

Kaff offered the Sergeant a neutral response, “Aye, Sergeant.”

The Captain, still barely settled from his outburst, added, “Oh, you humour me, Kaffein. Such a waste of manpower and land for one guise. If we hadn’t burned down so many villages, perhaps your proposal would have made the slightest bit of sense.” He waved him off. “I believe that is all I need for now. Thank you, Kaffein.”

“Aye, Captain,” Kaff said, keeping the professionalism in his tone.

Seeing that he was no longer needed, Kaff slinked back to the rest of the company with his head held low to not draw attention, scanning the squadron for Frederick.

It wasn’t until he reached the rear of the formation did he find the man of the hour. On his way, he had received plenty of pushes and jabs, but he heeded them no mind. Like their words, their actions too fell on deaf ears.

“A little disappointed, Kaffein?” Frederick asked. “Chin up, friend. The rain will let up soon.”

Kaff offered him a smirk. “Oh, no. Their words are hollow, but I do appreciate the concern,” he said matter-of-factly. “It would seem that common decency is a luxury for a Prussian.”

A pause hung in the air before Frederick spoke once more. “You know the reason for it.”

Kaff sighed. “Yes, but I have matters more pressing than public image.”

Kaff gestured a shush and motioned for him and Frederick to put some distance between them and the squadron.

“And it would seem that the Sergeant couldn’t bite his tongue; keyword expatriate. I’ve no doubt he told the entire company everything by now. And though you know I’m no ex-pat, the Sergeant does not.”

Kaff sighed his frustrations, as he eased his shoulders ever so slightly.

Finally calm, Kaff added, “Least enough I encountered a decent fellow back in Nantucket before kissing the book and signing my soul for two shillings.”

The younger man rolled his eyes. “You’re a fool of the highest order.”

A bigger smirk made its way into the conversation. “Well, this fool has a plan.”

“Aye, I know.” Frederick glanced back between them, before looking around to check for any stragglers. “What of him? The Sergeant, I mean. He proved himself to be a loose end in all this. Thus far we’ve been careful, but I still fear the possibility of discovery, for your sake, at least,” he spoke in a hushed tone.

Kaff’s grin almost went unnoticed. “I admire your caution, friend. However, I believe the matter’s already settled. Everything I’ve told them is nothing short of vague, half-truths mixed with schools of red herring. Our tracks are covered for the time being. They may know our origin, but they do not have the full story.”

Frederick held his reins a little less tightly. “Ah, is that the reason why you’ve managed to live this long?”

Kaff chuckled. “Perhaps yes, perhaps not. Oversight has a habit of creeping up on you at the worst possible times.”

“Aye.” Frederick nodded his agreement. “Let’s hope we reach one of the colonies southward before they catch wind of our goals.”

Before they ended their conversation, Kaff added a last note, a much more serious tone befalling his demeanour, “We proceed as planned. Know that our next encounter with the Indians will be the last time our fealty lies to their King.”

The squadron kept on marching as the sun burned through the day. Kaff chatted with Frederick once or twice more, but that did little to distract him from the droplets of sweat racing down his forehead as well as his shirt and uniform. He silently wished his canteen was a little heavier.

He joked to himself that he would’ve reached France by now if he was still in Europe, but the humour did little to keep his mind occupied for long. The forest didn’t seem to have an end in sight either. The endless crisscrossing between heavy tree lines steadily became natural to him, almost requiring no thought to execute.

The men too became restless after the hours’ worth of trudging through dense woodlands. The soreness crept from Kaff’s heels and up to his thighs. Military-grade saddles were never made to be completely comfortable. He reminded himself that they were behind enemy lines, and did his best to remain vigilant.

Kaff trotted by some of the men while staying out of their peripheral. Not so accidentally, he overheard one of them relaying what they had heard upfront. Something along the lines of the Captain refusing to turn back despite many of the sergeants' concerns regarding their current estimated time and position, or rather the inaccuracy of it.

To Kaff’s relief, after roughly an hour more of marching, they soon entered a clearing. He saw a cliff out in the open just across a small valley. Kaff and Frederick were still at the rear when the Captain ordered the men to rally down at the bottom. The open sky was certainly a welcoming sight.

Kaff stopped just before they left the treeline. “Frederick, would you be so kind as to help me off my horse?” Kaff wiggled his left leg. “I think it loosened.”

“Aye.” Frederick was already dismounting his steed. He made his way over quickly.

Finally finding firm footing, Kaff set his prosthetic on the ground with Frederick helping him. He bent down and pulled on where his knee used to be, making sure it was strapped on correctly after the day’s worth of horseback riding.

Kaff wiped off a bead of sweat on his brow and remounted. Frederick made sure the leg was set properly with the saddle before he climbed back up his horse.

Kaff slung the carbine musket back up his shoulder and straightened his uniform once more to look presentable. “Thank you, Frederick.”

Once ready, they marched to where the other men were already standing at attention without much hassle.

The Captain and a few of his men were off on their own moving up the hill opposite to where they came from. The men no doubt appreciated the bit of fresh air and rest after the hours of marching, but it wasn’t until the Captain reached the top and saw the other side when a familiar sound reached the company’s ears.

Atop the hill and next to the Captain, the squadron’s bugler frantically sounded the order. Retreat.

The soldiers below waited for a direction from the Captain as he galloped downhill, hastily unholstering his sabre.

The bugler was a few notes away from finishing his cadence when small mists of red exploded all over his body and the poor man crashed and tumbled downhill, crushed by his neighing and hole-riddled horse along the way. The same fate was said for the rest of the Captain’s entourage as a loud boom roared from behind the squadron.

“Artillery!”

All heads turned behind them. To some, it was already too late, for another twelve-pounder had already fired. The gore of men and horses alike splattered along the grass beneath them as confusion spread throughout the squadron.

The officers who stayed tried desperately to reclaim some semblance of order, but inexperience won as their hesitant and unsure cries of command were drowned out in the panic. The squadron was already cut from the head.

Many screamed, their uniforms tainted with the blood of men who once stood mere feet away from them. A few veterans attempted to form a line but were quickly failed by another volley of cannon fire.

Kaff found himself galloping away from the other men who fled. He wasn’t about to let himself be such an obvious target. He made sure to keep his breathing slow and deep as he wiped his face clean off of Frederick’s blood.

He made a beeline back towards the forest where the cannons would lose sight of him, every second galloping uphill in a desperate attempt not to draw attention.

It took every ounce of his willpower to suppress the decades worth of experience as an officer to not shout and try to claim leadership of the men routing. Even as allies of the Seven Years War, these Brits weren’t his countrymen. They weren’t worth risking painting such a bright red target on his back. And so he fled.

Grapeshot; the bane of every formation.

The wind, brushing against his skin and sending shivers through his body, rustled leaves and bushes around him, bringing sound to the darkened forest grounds. The clip-clop of hooves on dirt echoed aloud, being the only other sound that could be heard, save for the owls, now awake. Their wide eyes watched and followed Kaff in curiosity as they laid in the comfort of their nests while Kaff shivered.

With his stomach groaning and throat scratchy, he stopped for a second, gazing at his surroundings and admiring them, taking a long look at where he’d end up in life.

There was nothing here. No deer, no rabbits, no remotely edible plants he knew of, and no end in sight. The trees were endless in every direction, and all the water murky beyond reason to drink.

There was his horse, but it was his only hope of finding civilization. His frail body was no longer capable of walking such long distances. His leg would probably break halfway in reaching for help if he’d travel on foot.

He contemplated staring down the barrel of his musket before the Indians or the pain of thirst kicked in, but decided against it. He wasn’t about to surrender now. Not after everything he’d done. Not after so much effort.

It was the indescribable feeling of being unknowingly watched or played as a toy that had given him the idea in the first place. He could be captured and tortured at any time, as these Indians were masters of their land. God knows what unholy things they’d do to invaders.

He sighed, looking up to the sky, bright moonlight giving him peace as he traversed the forest grounds, if not a little dreary.

He soon stumbled upon a clearing. A patch of grass in the sea of trees. Fireflies were twinkling about with crickets buzzing all over. He cracked a smile at the sight. Then, he saw it.

Farther off, on the other side of the clearing, there laid a house. Not a cottage, but a full two-story house that could be seen in a bustling city back in Europe. Tiled roofing and such as well. There was even a chimney with smoke coming out the top.

He moved in for a closer look. There was not a chance in hell he’d ignore such a sight.

Peculiar...

Once near, he dismounted and took a tentative step, one foot forward then followed by a prosthetic step slowly inching ahead, searching for even terrain while being sure not to make a sound. His eyes were focused on the house as he listened closely for anyone inside, putting an ear to the door.

Thumping on wooden floorboards. Two people, close to one another by the sound of it, but the walking patterns were at irregular intervals. Amputees as well, perhaps?

Well, he was indeed masquerading as a common soldier, but he still had manners. Wherever he was, this place was still private property.

Knock, knock, knock.

A pause, then rapid footsteps before the door opened up, the resident out of sight, likely hiding behind the door. This was all too surreal.

“Hello?” Kaff put a hand on the doorknob, gently prodding and trying to pull it back gently with little success. “I mean no harm. Do you speak English?”

No answer. And the person was determined to stay out of sight.

Kaff spoke up once more, “Deutsch? Français? J’ai besoin de directions, peut-être que vous avez une carte et une boussole que je peux emprunter?”

[I need directions, perhaps you have a map and compass I can borrow?]

It was no use. Kaff didn’t even know if they spoke French, he just assumed since he was right near their colonial territory last he checked.

Curiosity, or perhaps anticipation, was biting his lower lips. He wanted to greet this eccentric landowner so badly, but he was not foolhardy. If they did not want to be bothered, then he’ll accept their wishes.

He took a few steps back from the door, unconsciously walking deeper into the house. Too late did he notice there was an elevation where he had landed his left leg, causing him to stumble backwards, eventually falling to the floor.

“Ugh… mein bein…”

[Ugh… my leg…]

The door slammed shut with unreal speed. It being locked prompted Kaff to open his eyes, and he gasped.

Standing in front of him was a creature he’d never seen before in his entire life. What it lacked in size, it made up with… everything else.

What Kaff immediately noticed was the mane on its head. It was similar to that of a lion’s, but far more regal and majestic, as if from a work of fantasy. Its auburn form swayed ever so gently.

Its body was small, about the size and shape of a filly, but that description was a stretch. It was in no way a horse. It couldn’t be. There were red scales all over its back, hard and shiny. They were what Kaff imagined a dragon’s scales would look like if they were real.

Kaff was staring, and it stared back. With impossibly large eyes, the size of dinner plates, it watched him. No. It studied him. With great curiosity and purple irises that couldn’t be found anywhere else on Earth.

It inched closer, but Kaff didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t force himself to move, every part of him was fixated on the creature. It was bright blue. The colour only complemented the eerie, uncanny aura surrounding it.

Its horn glowed. Before, parts of the creature were hidden in the dark, but now the light revealed a horn. A red, demonic horn that was longer than its entire skull, protruding out its forehead like it was some sort of parasite, like a lantern glowing in the night, calling, whispering to the ears of whoever laid eyes upon it.

Kaff suddenly found himself encased with the same glow as the creature’s horn. It poked and prodded his skin, sending chills down his spine as whatever sorcery grabbed him.

He breathed heavily, eyes bolting everywhere as his heart beat endlessly, badly wanting to leap out of his chest as he slowly ascended to the air by the creature’s sorcery. He wanted to vomit.

“Lass mich runter! Put me down!” His screams were met with deaf ears.

The aura... it didn’t feel right; it was as if he was being drowned in a lake, but yet he could still breathe. It felt like liquid seeping into him, cold, crawling under his skin, and moving through his body like a snake.

The creature began playing him like a puppet, and he was powerless to stop it. His joints were all pushed in the wrong directions to test and gauge a reaction out of him and whenever he would protest, the aura would double down, and push his body to its limits.

Then, all of a sudden, the eeriest thing of all happened. He didn’t feel anything anymore. No, not didn’t. Couldn’t. All sense of touch was lost. Not his uniform, nor his prosthetic could be felt touching his skin. Hell, he couldn’t even feel any phantom pain! It was all gone, just like that.

What came next was a blur; his eyes heavied, and his grip on reality began to loosen.

At first, it was on his forehead, but then it spread to the rest of his skull. It was faint, like a minor headache. Then, he felt something new, something eye-opening. The best way to describe it was a sixth sense. He could feel his surroundings again, but yet it wasn’t physical; not touch, no. It was fuzzy, like a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Then, it snapped. He screamed bloody murder, the greatest pain he ever felt in his entire life. The new sense was gone, ripped apart and thrown away.

When he thought it was over, it started again. It came in waves, repeating over and over until he could no longer think. He wanted to feel numb, but he simply wasn’t. Everything was vividly clear. He was completely aware that something terrible was happening to him. He just couldn’t do anything about it. He was powerless.

It was like his brain was being torn apart like simple pieces of paper. It always kept its onslaught until his mind was just shy of broken, before quickly restarting all over again.

He couldn’t tell when, but it stopped. It could have been hours, it could’ve been minutes. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell anymore. All he cared about was that it had finally stopped after so many times hurting him.

From then on, it was all downhill. Everything inside him screamed in anguish. He could feel his bones and muscles shifting under his skin, all the more pure, agonizing pain to add to his torment. Soon, he couldn’t even feel any fingers on either of his hands.

The worst of all was on his back. He could feel bones from his spine piercing out of him, warm blood dripping on his back and down his legs. He wished for death, but it never came.

When it was all said and done, he hung there in the air, limp, near-lifeless. He opened his eyes, the creature seeming satisfied with what it had done to him. With tears matting his cheeks, Kaff pleaded to the creature for it to end.

But no, it wasn’t done. His twitching body was moved through the air, stopping dead above something hot. He looked down and saw it: a lit cauldron filled with boiling water.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he spoke, “Please… mercy...”

Right after uttering those words, Kaff was plunged straight down into the water.

It was deep. He was completely submerged. Kaff jerked his body, trying, struggling to swim to the surface, but his efforts were futile. He didn’t have hands or feet to propel him forward. His body was foreign, his attempts seeing little success. He didn’t know how to swim like this.

His breath was short, it wasn’t long until he started choking. His lungs clung to the last bit of air inside of him. Everything he did now was in vain, and deep down he knew. There was nothing else he could do, nothing but scream, but even that was a mistake as the water around him drowned and silenced his pleas. There was nothing for him here. Nothing but the absolute certainty of his demise.

He couldn’t fight it anymore. His body gave in. Water flooded his lungs as he could no longer stop his mouth from gasping. But, instead of air, his body was confronted with more and more water that would force its way inside him, filling up his lungs till it could take no more.

Everything began to darken.

How’s Life?

Water.

It splashed on him. Kaff first thought of it as nothing more than one of the men pulling tricks on him as he slept. It would not have been the first time. He couldn’t bother himself to stop them. His eyelids refused to open to whoever came knocking.

Images of the night before started trickling back in. His hearing was muffled, his head also hurting. Though his head could process little, Kaff started to connect the tangled bits of memory strewn about everywhere. It was a slow and gradual process, requiring time to sow together. When the picture was complete, he sprung awake.

Kaff gasped, hacking, drawing deep breaths and forcing air into his lungs. His stomach churned as he remembered how the creature had twisted him. There was hardly any food left inside him to retch.

His head screamed for him to return to slumber, muscles protesting his every action. He was awake, exhausted, and barely alive; anyone would be after such nightmarish torture.

“Mercy be damned,” he thought.

Blurry eyes and a slight ringing in his ear greeted his awakening as he rose and steadily regained his focus. He was lying on a beach, that much was clear. Which beach, he had no clue. This place couldn't be the Hudson. He was too far inland when he encountered the Indians.

Wherever he was, water lapped him and soaked his uniform. His mouth vaguely tasted of salt and his hair was thoroughly drenched while his tricorne uncaringly floated a few feet away.

He pressed a hand against his temple to soothe the headache. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. This god-forsaken headache was going to be the death of him.

He couldn’t quite hold his head the way he used to, so he moved his hand in front of him to see what was wrong.

The realization hit him like a carriage filled with bricks. The reality started sinking in as an all-encompassing panic that he was all too familiar with started flooding back into his mind.

There was no hand on his arm.

Fear started welling up inside him as he looked to his other arm. It was the same. Black fur and white stumps on each end.

He felt up everything on his person with his new appendages, and two words came to mind: wet fur. It was god-damned everywhere. And where there was once bare skin, there was now black fur. Soft, wet fur like a damned soggy dog.

Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to scream internally while still staring at the white-tipped hooves where his hands should've been. This couldn’t be real, it had to be a nightmare. But alas, he was conscious and wide awake. It was like the day of his amputation all over again.

He rose to his… hooves, only to fall flat on his face as his knees now bent in the other direction. At least his prosthetic had been tuned to fit with this new body, matching his other leg in size and length. A pleasant side note in this hellish nightmare.

He inspected his left leg closer. What had once been a wooden stump fitted with a foot for riding on horseback was now akin to an actual equine’s hind leg, and that was when he realized what creature he’d been turned into.

“Verdammt, I’m a horse.”

He dearly wanted to shriek his lungs dry, but that would serve no purpose other than to attract unwanted attention. There could be predators lurking, stalking him for all he knew. And right now, he was utterly defenseless.

It took him a moment, begrudgingly, desperately, and pleadingly, but he soon came to terms with his predicament. Currently, time was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Especially now since he no longer had a horse that could carry him around. He could taste the pure irony straight from the air.

Kaff rose up and attempted to walk. He found minimal success while only using his hind legs. His centre of mass was different from where it used to be, but he was sure he could do it given enough time and practice. But sadly, he currently had neither of those.

After some trial and error that left several prints of his snout on the sand, and sand up his snout, Kaff thought to give walking on all fours a chance. Demeaning as it was, he had little choice if he wished to survive.

He was wobbly, stumbling all over the place, but finding balance was definitely possible. He almost fell a few times, but the keyword was ‘almost’. He could see himself getting used to this.

Though it took him a moment, it proved to be effective. For now, trotting was his only mode of transportation.

One major difference he quickly noticed was that now he had far more balance with his prosthetic. At least, better than when he first started using his replacement leg. That took him weeks to get adjusted to, this took minutes. Another pleasant surprise in this terrible misfortune.

After familiarizing himself with his new body, Kaff checked his surroundings. It was somewhat dark, but there was a fair bit of sunlight blanketing the beach. He doesn’t know how or why, but he could tell that the sun was currently in the east, meaning that it was dawn. Or so he hoped it was.

Was that a saddlebag a few hundred feet away? It looked kind of… different. Not as in different colours, but it contrasted with the sand much more than it used to. It seemed sharper in detail as well. For a quick second, he checked the brim of his nose but found no spectacles there. Strange. Even with glasses, his vision was never one to brag about.

He trotted to the piece of equipment, surprisingly well actually. And sure enough, it was indeed a saddlebag and a carbine musket floating on the water, presumably his since there were no other souls nearby who could claim ownership.

He reached down to grab it with a hoof and he caught a glimpse of himself in the water. The ripple made it hard to see his reflection, but the two bright blue irises staring back at him weren't the pair he’d come to know over his lifetime.

No. Not this. Not right now. Kaff shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and donned the saddlebags without so much as looking. His predicament was already confusing enough as it was. There wasn’t the need to ask questions he did not have the answers to. He couldn’t afford to break down now. Survival came first, non-immediate questions were secondary.

Kaff moved to the shoreline and made his way deeper inland, shaking the water off his hooves as he trotted. The sand, warm on his hooves, parted easily as he stepped. He resisted the urge to sit back down and rest.

When he saw what was in front of him however, he couldn’t force himself to continue walking. He just stopped entirely, staring dead ahead with a distant look in his eyes. It was another forest.

Silence. It taunted him. The sense of dread loomed over his shoulders as chills ran down his spine. The overwhelming desire to turn around was enormous. A calm breeze on his barrel. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath.

A flash of yesterday’s encounter passed through his mind. He could hear the sound of grapeshot whizzing through the air and puncturing through skin as red rained all over. Frederick did not live long enough to scream.

He reeled back and shuddered, standing there for a full minute. He did his best to control his breathing. When he found his composure, a sigh escaped him and deep down he pushed away all of his fears.

He braved onward, his destination set for civilization.

There was little to keep Kaff’s mind at ease. He followed the sun all the way east until it was on top of him, but he had yet to find anything that could increase his chances of survival. Thus far there hadn’t been any dangers, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t encounter one later. He never failed to check his surroundings periodically.

Time ticked by as he traveled, and the heat began wearing on him. Sweat mixed with traces of saltwater, a terrible combination, now soaked his uniform and would soon cause rashes if he didn’t do something about them. He’d have to find a clean source of water to wash his clothes. The idea of him walking through the forest all the while nude wasn’t particularly pleasant.

Surprisingly, Kaff rarely took breaks the entire time he traveled. And even when he did, he only readjusted his leg and ‘rested’ for about two minutes before he continued trekking. And by rest, he meant he only stopped walking. Anything could be hiding behind those trees.

While resting, he did inspect his fur closer, however. It was awfully soft and fluffy for someone who had drowned in a vat of boiling water. It was akin to one of his friends’ horses but even finer. He questioned, but ultimately let go of it until survival was no longer a concern.

A few similar questions arose when he trotted. However, Kaff mostly devoted his mind to staying alert for any signs of danger. After all, he was still lost in the woods.

By the time Kaff had enough practice to gallop, he came across a river. If his experience in logistics had taught him anything, his chances of stumbling into civilization would be greater if there was a continuous source of water nearby. He followed the river upstream.

Much later, Kaff found himself trotting up the mountain where the water originated from. Even if there were to be no settlements up there, it would still prove to be a good vantage point. And so he pressed upwards.

After some considerable time hiking, he was met with the top of the mountain and the sun almost setting behind him. There was not a town in sight, unfortunately. Although, the view certainly was lovely. He could see the beach he had woken up on far, far off in the distance. It was frightening how much detail he could make out from this distance. He was impressed he made it through that big of a forest.

Atop the mountain itself was an equally delightful sight. A pristine lake within a sea of grass painted the scene. A surprising amount of flatland way up at this altitude. Patches of trees here and there were scattered throughout the even terrain. He’d check the other side of the mountain after he made a stop at the lake.

He made his way over to said lake, the grass pleasantly caressing his hooves. Kaff kneeled down to scoop up some refreshingly cold water to splash onto his face, ridding himself of his weariness and fatigue. He blinked, brushing away the dust that had gathered under his eyes and yawned as no man could see him.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t take more than a few gulps to quench his thirst. The last time he drank was more than twenty-four hours ago. And even then, that was before he had walked and hiked his way to freshwater.

Looking around, he spotted a single apple tree nearby, its fruits prominently red. He walked up to the lone thing, a few of its apples hung low to the ground. He plucked one for a taste.

Odd. Sweet and juicy. Not what he expected, but was certainly satisfactory. Strange how there were no others of its kind anywhere in sight, but he didn’t have much energy to question it further. He ate a healthy amount and picked a few more for the road. This certainly tasted better than the hardtack he had ran out of by a frighteningly large margin.

Well, seeing as the problem of hunger and thirst were now somewhat satisfied, shelter should be his next priority. But then again, a quick wash wouldn’t do him too much harm. He was right next to a lake, after all. And he couldn’t even recall the last time he could bathe without a dozen other men nearby doing the same.

With his mind made up, Kaff’s saddlebags hit the ground with a thud, and he rested his carbine musket next to it. He took off his uniform as well, finding it wrinkled and smelling like an overboard sailor after months at sea. He felt considerably less naked than he expected to be. Probably due to the fur.

He then proceeded to thoroughly wash his uniform off of every bit of saltwater that stuck to its fabric. He dried and hung them on the tree after. Kaff also took time and did himself the favour of rinsing away the smell of sweat, grime, and gunpowder that had accumulated on his fur and body.

When he got to his back, however, he froze. He stared, asking himself how he could be so oblivious.

For a full minute, he just stood there, absolutely angry with himself for never noticing. For such an important thing to go unnoticed would’ve killed him back in Europe. Here, he was lucky it wasn’t a hazard or a threat that could’ve cost him his life if it went under his nose.

Wings. A pair of them. Predominantly black feathers with white ones at the tips. They looked like they had been hit by a tornado. All day long, he never felt them, not even while wearing his saddlebags.

“Sigh. Scheiße.” All he could do now was take a deep breath, and try to calm down. No use wasting energy on being angry at himself over something already done.

The wings on his back were akin to something found in a child's fairytale. Such a stupid thing to be found on a horse. They were sizable, sure, but they were not logical.

He tried to feel around his back for… something, anything similar to an extra pair of limbs so he could control them. Then, they moved. By his own volition. There was no more doubting if they were fake or if they had been sown to his back. He did a few basic motions to familiarize himself with them.

After a few minutes of practice, Kaff washed them as well. They were sensitive. Very sensitive. Much the same way his foot was ticklish, though a little different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, however. A light caress sent shivers down his spine and blood to somewhere else. He had to be gentle with them.

When he was done cleaning up, he decided to sit down for a while as his clothes further dried, finding comfort under the tree. He sighed to himself as twilight turned to dusk. Never had he found so much peace while so afraid.

Water dripped down from his white and black mane and onto his bare form. The carbine beside him was far bigger than it used to be when he was human. Or more than likely, he had shrunk. He was going to need practice if he ever wanted to use it again. And somehow, despite the many improvements over his old body, he felt weaker. Like he could die at any moment at the behest of any beast that stalked him. He was weak. He was no longer a predator. He was now prey.

He shook his head and ruffled his wings to dry them, causing them to rain water droplets all around him. Kaff doubted they were functional. Mother nature must have made an error. Just the thought of him flying was already an argument to stay grounded. And even if he could fly, he was too tired after the day’s journey to make any attempts.

He took a hoof and felt the skin underneath his fur. They were as smooth as the day he entered university, before the war and before every major event that had happened in his life. It was toned muscle instead of loose skin, and it irritated him to no end.

This body and its every positive only drove home the point that nothing around him was natural. This wasn’t him. Whatever thing he became, he didn’t want it. He didn’t deserve it. He already spent his one life. Call it disposition or even a second chance, this was wrong. A small part of him was grateful, but he was no saint to deserve it.

But then, life was never fair. The world was always arbitrary and unjust. It was true he didn’t deserve such fortune, but there was little sense in throwing away opportunities.

After everything that had happened in the past few days, he could technically say he was successful. But this… this wasn’t what he wanted. But then again…

He put a hoof to his chest and found what he was looking for. He moved it to eye level so he could better admire the object.

A necklace. It resembled the Prussian Eagle as close as smithing could allow. The pure gold glinted the last bit of sunlight dusk had to offer. The chains around his neck were encrusted with enough precious gems to satiate any nouveau riche’s lust to be ostentatious. The Eagle itself was fitted with its own small crown, sceptre, and orb. The piece of jewellery could buy a modest estate in Berlin.

Kaff chuckled, remembering the tale of Midas. If only gold had actual use outside of currency and jewellery for those whose purses are too heavy.

The dumb smile on his face didn’t leave for some time. Perhaps this predicament of his was a blessing in disguise.

He sighed once more and decided he might as well clean his carbine musket and his leg while there was a clean source of water nearby. He was thankful that his cleaning kit had been transported here along with his saddlebag.

Kaff’s mind danced around some questions regarding his circumstance as he did his maintenance. The lion-esque witch he encountered, his new body, Frederick, and even a passing thought about the rest of the dragoon company.

Ultimately, unless those things could cause trouble for him in future times, they were irrelevant. He did his best to learn from them but mostly decided to focus on the present. Far too many of his colleagues were blinded by the past, and so fell victim to the future.

Before he knew it, everything was done and packed into his saddlebags, including his uniform. Kaff was sure that his fur was enough to weather out the night. He’d save his uniform for more dire conditions should the need arise.

His musket, however, was now cleaned but unloaded. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to fire it, so instead, he fixed on his bayonet. Technically he still had his sabre, but a thrusting semi-spear was currently more wieldy than a swinging sword. At least, until he could better understand how his body operated.

The moon glowed a bright white as Kaff double-checked everything. Before he left, he decided to take a look at himself by the lake one more time. Just so he could finally settle into this new body.

One look later and he could now confirm that yes, he was indeed a horse. Huh, a strip of white between his eyes and going down his snout. Didn’t notice that before.

“Lovely night out ain’t it, partner?”

Kaff jumped at the sudden appearance of a new face on the reflection. He fell and instinctively reached for his musket, but stopped himself before he did so.

Standing beside him was another creature just like him, only without wings. Their colouration and features were distinctly different, however. They were also laughing.

The pony, not horse Kaff just now figured, had a reddish-brown coat with a white mane and golden irises. They did have a white strip of fur between their massive eyes just like Kaff, however, but it didn’t go around their snout.

Now that Kaff saw it, something inside of him told him it was female. He could narrow it down to something related to the muzzle and posture. Outside of that, he could glean nothing.

He didn’t know how he got that information. The most he knew about a pony was when he visited a friend’s estate that raised some. Other than that, it was a mystery how he got this knowledge.

“Startled ya real good there, didn’t I?” the pony giggled. A massive grin was plastered on her face. “Sorry I snuck up on ya there, pal. Thought it’d be funny, and boy howdy it sure was!”

Kaff didn’t know what ‘pal’ meant, but he figured the creature was friendly enough. That, and the fact she was the only sentient creature he had encountered all day long.

“Uh, yes. Rather humorous now that I think about it,” Kaff responded.

The pony offered a hoof. “Here, lemme help you up.”

Kaff took her offer and stood up and was rather surprised by her strength. He was a little taller than her, however.

“The name’s Jace, by the way. Jace Barred.”

Kaff fixed his hat before replying, “Kaffein. Tis nice to meet your acquaintance, Jace Barred.” Now it was Kaff’s turn to offer his hoof.

He couldn’t place what her accent was or where it could have possibly originated from. He was simply glad that she spoke some form of English. Much like the many strange things that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours, Kaff simply didn’t bother to question it. Those answers could wait, survival came first.

“Likewise, friend.” Without hesitation, she shook it, before turning to face the lake. “Admiring the view? I know it’s a ways away from Railcrossing, but it’s always nice seeing folks venturing out all the way here to see the lake.”

Kaff couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. His time up here had been rather pleasant compared to everything else that had happened recently. Finding food and clean water was absolutely better than being toyed by some lion-esque witch.

Not only that, but he also managed to find some help up here. Or rather, help had found him. She did mention that she came from a settlement nearby. To think that proper rest was nothing but some distant, lofty goal he had set when he found himself stranded on a beach this morning.

Kaff looked up. “Yes. Though these stars are foreign to me, they shine beautifully.” Despite not being an avid astronomer, he could still tell the stars were all arranged differently. They did not match with what his memory served.

Just on the corner of his peripheral, Kaff could see the mare looking up to match his gaze. “Yeah.” For a moment she too appreciated the night sky in silence, before abruptly adding, “Wha— huh? Foreign how?”

He sighed. He could feel the day’s worth of walking slowly catching up on him. “I find myself a newcomer in these lands, only setting foot here recently. Just today, actually.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his predicament. “I’d be a liar if I say I hadn’t gotten myself lost as well. Thankfully, rescue appeared seemingly out of nowhere.”

Her face was completely alien to him, but yet he could still tell what was going through her mind as if she was human. Her eyes were distant and her breath paused for a split second; the little details pointing to confusion. He could also tell that it took her a moment to process his words.

There was no mask she was hiding behind. Her reactions were instinctual: too quick to be fake. And any open hostilities she could make right now would be contradictory to what she had already done. If she had wanted to harm him, she wouldn’t have made herself known.

All of that had happened in a little under two seconds.

She was a little hesitant, but she found her words. “You didn’t get up here from Railcrossing?”

Kaffein shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

She stared at him for a second, a slight bit of disbelief crossing her face. “You’re lost …but you’re a pegasus.” She spoke slowly as if he was a toddler and pointed at his wings. “Don’tcha know how to use those things?”

Kaff ruffled them using his newfound muscles, and answered, “Another unfortunate ’no’. Tis a long story, ma’am. Equally as long as the day I just went through.”

“Sigh. Well, don'tcha fret none. I’m sure I can help you get to town. It ain’t that far and I’m just about done up here too.” She held a hoof up. “Oh, and just call me Jace. You probably ain’t even a year older than me.”

Kaff offered her a smile. “Thank you, Jace. I thought myself a deadman before you had introduced yourself.”

“Think nothing of it, pal. I’m happy to help, but we should probably get a move on while the moon ain’t that high up.” She received Kaff’s nod and promptly started trotting, motioning for him to follow. “Next stop: Railcrossing.”

Kaff gladly followed along, putting his three hooves and prosthetic to good use once more.

Before he left, however, he made the connection between the mare’s empty saddlebags and the lone bouquet of assorted flowers resting on the base of the apple tree.

He bowed his head, and journeyed onwards.

Harbour

“So, where are ya from, Kaff?”

Kaff trotted alongside Jace, finding the dirt path easier to trot upon than the swathes of undergrowth he’d gotten used to traversing. Thus far, the walk had been uneventful. Jace had mostly been quiet up until just now.

Kaff did not initiate conversation simply so he could see how friendly Jace truly was. If human body language translated well into these equine bodies, then Kaff would assume the mare had started to feel uncomfortable with the growing silence between them.

By the looks of it, Jace likely didn’t realise what Kaff was doing either. He wasn’t exactly tactless in the way he did these things. There were many things you could catch just from your peripherals if you knew what you were doing.

Other than that, Kaff couldn’t find it in himself to wipe the smile off his face. He was simply overjoyed to find his life expectancy soaring. Because of this, his facade of ignorant joy was all the more convincing.

“Oh, I believe it’s very far from here; way beyond your borders. It’s unlikely I’ll ever go back there. Not if I can help it.” Vague but to the point, just the way he liked his introductions. He still needed to make sure Jace harboured no ill intentions.

“Mind if I ask what you do for a living? I mean, ponies our age still go to school and all, but you get what I mean.”

Kaff stepped over a pothole as he answered, “I have experience in a few professions, both formal and informal in many places. But it’s likely most obvious that I was a soldier at one point.” He motioned his head to his sabre, currently sheathed in its scabbard. “How about you, Jace Barred?”

He had yet to know where he was or what constituted the norm here. Anything from home could very well be taboo to these ponies. After all, he had only met Jace moments ago. Distrust and paranoia went a long way towards security.

“Well, I ain’t got as much experience as you do, that’s for sure. But I’m still pretty happy with what I’ve got. I just help around in my pa’s inn when I can and go to school when I’m not. Should be graduating this year, though.”

He nodded once more. “Education is a very important part of one’s life. Although it may not seem like it, I did spend time attending university at one point or another. It is admirable of you to take part in your father’s business while you enrol.”

She shook her head. “Nah, I ain’t in college. Probably can’t anyhow with how old pa’s getting. I’m still trying to get through high school just like other ponies our age, but sometimes stuff gets a bit hectic at the inn. Wouldn't've figured you for the bookish kinda pony though. Must be a bright one yourself if you’ve already finished college.”

“Tis unfortunate, but no,” he corrected. “I did not graduate. Life dealt me a different fate it seemed. I was forced to… how do I say? Take charge of the helm for the family.”

“Oh.” An uncomfortable pause hung in the air. “Sorry to hear.”

Kaff waved her off. “I spare no love for any of my remaining family members, so do not fret about it.”

He was looking ahead while he talked, so it took him by surprise when Jace placed a hoof on his shoulder. It took a bit of restraint for him to not immediately reach for his sabre. Thankfully, she didn’t notice.

“Now hold on there, pal. I know it ain’t my place to say, but I’ve still got my two Bits to say.” It was strange seeing such concern from someone he met only moments ago. Stranger was the fact that he spotted no insincerity behind her words. That, or Kaff wasn’t perceptive enough. “I’m sure they—“

“They do not,” Kaff cut her off mid-sentence, shrugging off her hoof respectfully. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve made up my mind. Let us leave it at that.” His voice was clear and concrete; it signalled that there was nothing she could say or do to change his mind.

Jace bit her tongue. “Alright. Sorry I brought up bad memories.”

“Tis fine, you did not know. Conversation is how one learns of another's past.”

She shrugged. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

With someone to talk to, it didn’t feel nearly as dull trekking down the mountain as it did hiking up it. A bit of friendly company was always appreciated in Kaff’s travels. It never failed to give him a sense of appreciation for the locales he passed through.

The town Jace called Railcrossing was in view not long after their walk through the forest. It was just on the other side of the artificial clearing some distance away. He could see the town just fine without the spectacles he’d lost.

The hill he was standing on had apparently obstructed his view from the mountain. His previous assumptions had also been correct as the town sat right next to another river. Lucky that Jace found him before something else had.

From here, it was visible that the town was growing. Structures in the midst of construction dotted the outskirts as other bright, newly-painted buildings sat firmly in between cobblestone streets. Brick chimneys spewing smoke scattered about the tiled roofs of the many homes within the town. Most of the buildings were at least two to three storeys high, adding more bulk to the already modestly sized town.

From afar, it looked just like any other town in Europe, architecture including. But when one looked closer, it was as if a nearby estate forgot to lock their stables.

Kaff held nothing against these ponies, but their bright pastel colouration was something to get used to. If Jace had been one of the bright pink ones, Kaff would’ve likely ran away thinking she was poisonous.

“I imagine a local artist decided to start using live animals as canvas,” Kaff joked to himself. “Then again, more lunatic than artist. As if the line wasn’t already blurred enough.”

“Here she is. Smack dab between Las Pegasus and Canterlot and the only stop if your train cabin’s getting a bit stuffy.”

Kaff sighed in relief. Maybe he could finally get a good night’s rest. It would be his first since Nantucket. From Prussia to the Colonies was already halfway around the world. From the beach to Railcrossing felt like the other half. It was safe to say that he was now both a literal and figurative globetrotter.

“Thank you, Jace. I do not think I would’ve made it all the way here without your help.”

Her lips curled to a friendly smile. “Nothing to it, partner. I’m sure a pony like yourself could’ve found your way around.”

Kaff was about to say otherwise, but decided against it, simply returning her smile. “Is your inn perhaps still accepting guests? It would save me plenty of trouble if that’s to be the case.”

She placed a hoof under her chin. “Yeah, I think we do. It is a weeknight, after all. But before we go on, I need to ask you something. Don’t take this the wrong way, but Pa’s a bit strict when it comes down to ponies staying the night. Have you got at least four Bits to spend?”

“Erh…” Kaff had a few Pounds meant for the Colonies, but he doubted the King had any say on how much those are worth here. “No, my money isn’t in your currency, unfortunately. Though, I do have a few items I could sell.”

“I could get you to a pawn shop bright and early tomorrow if you’d like. But for now,” she produced a pouch of what sounded like coins from her saddlebags, before promptly tossing it over to Kaff, “don’tcha worry none. I’ve gotcha covered for tonight.”

Kaff eyed the pouch and then looked at Jace. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. “I… Thank you? I really wish to decline the offer out of simple courtesy, but I know that my options are limited. Are you sure to lend a stranger your money, Jace? I wouldn’t hold it against you if you’d like to have these back.”

She waved him off. “Of course I’m fine with it. What kinda person would I be if I didn’t offer to help the pony I just spent time conversatin’ with.”

Just when he thought his smile couldn’t get any bigger and more genuine, his very rescuer went out of her way to help him and then some. Hospitality-wise, this place was already faring better than the Americas.

“Thank you, Jace. Truly kind of you to lend a hand. I’ll be sure to repay you as soon as I can.”

“I have no idea what a hand is, but I hope you find yourself better here than you did back home. For now, welcome to Equestria, Kaff.”

Unfamiliar stars shone brightly upon the sky as murmurs died and residents turned to slumber. Outliers pranced about the street as magical—so Jace said—lamps illuminated their path. The town was uncannily European in its aesthetics. If he hadn’t known, he would’ve guessed this place to be anywhere between London and Berlin.

Kaff had also drawn his sabre against a lamp post when it flickered alight without the need of a lamplighter. Jace had laughed when that had happened but was otherwise concerned that Kaff didn’t yield until a minute had passed as the pole was unresponsive to his challenge of a duel.

Jace did her best to hide her giggles as Kaff kept steering both of them away from other lamps as they trotted. Frankly, she was not all that covert.

It didn’t take them long to reach the aforementioned inn. It was easy to spot as it was located in the corner of a fairly large street with many other buildings nearby advertising their own businesses with large, eye-catching signs above their front. However, the inn was the only building that had its lights on as well as the lively sounds of patrons socialising from inside.

Again, from afar the signs looked fine, but read them and you’d see the language was not quite English. From Kaff’s perspective, it wasn’t unintelligible, just that it looked like some letters were changed with different symbols and the writing had a more condensed style of calligraphy to them. Strange, but a problem to tackle at another day.

“I’m gonna head inside. You should probably wait a minute or two just so Pa don’t think nothing of us. He can be a bit protective at times. Celestia knows what he’ll think if he sees me with a colt at this hour.”

“Understandable, I’d likely be suspicious as well if I were him.”

Jace offered him a comforting smile. “I’ll catch ya tomorrow morning, Kaff. I’m keeping that promise of mine earlier about getting you to a pawnshop bright and early. See you soon, partner.”

Kaff waved her goodbye as he waited just outside of the inn’s window view. He double-checked everything on him in case anything was unsecure or had fallen off him on the way there. As a precaution, he took off the bayonet from his musket before finally heading inside.

Looking around, the inn doubled as a tavern on its first floor. The place was as lively inside as it had sounded from the street. There were few seats left unoccupied as patrons drank and ate their hearty meals while a single waiter merrily refilled their empty mugs.

He made his way to the counter without much of a fuss where he found a gruff-looking stallion chatting with some of the patrons. There was even a countertop bell like he’d seen before in Britain.

Ding.

“‘Scuse me, fellas,” the stallion said in a strong, gravelly voice, before turning to face him. “Evening. What’ll it be?”

The stallion was far more imposing up close than he was from a distance. A full head taller than Kaff, the brown stallion required little effort to intimidate.

Kaff didn’t break eye contact as he kept up his friendly and approachable demeanour without falter. This pony’s golden irises were clearly shared with his daughter’s.

“Any vacancy in this establishment? A room for the night would be lovely.”

He nodded. “We have one room left available. Four Bits per night, non-negotiable.”

Kaff handed him the coins, noticing a few more left in the pouch, and the stallion placed a key on the counter.

The stallion also pulled out a piece of paper and quill. “Room six, you won’t have a problem finding it upstairs. A name for the receipt, please.”

“Kaffein with a K.” Seeing the stallion grasp the quill and effortlessly write with a single fetlock and no fingers was unsurprising by now.

“Here you are. You have the room until eight tomorrow morning, breakfast not included. Oh, and try to not injure anypony here with that sword of yours.”

Kaff cheerfully nodded and gave his thanks, before finding his way up to his room. Not how he would have handled guests, but who was he to tell these ponies how to run an inn. The most surprising thing out of that whole interaction was the fact that he had let Kaff keep his sabre.

He took a peek at the receipt. ‘Kaffeine. In: Thursday, 74th of Aprimay 999. Out: Friday, 75th of Aprimay 999.’

“Another soul misspells my name.” The door closed behind him not with a thud, but with a loud creek. The key had no problem locking, however. He sighed. “And another night not in my bed.”

He placed his saddlebags beside the bed, and moved to stretch his body. The action wasn’t met with bones aching or muscles screaming, but a satisfied feel encompassing his limbs and a pleasured sigh. How he missed being young and spirited.

Just as his eyes saw better, his nose too improved. And currently, he smelled that the lake’s work had already been undone. He had little energy left to care, however. Frankly, he’d prefer shivering than sweating. His subordinates too were quieter and less foul in winter than they were in the summer.

He sat down on the bed all too happily, finding his head on the pillow not long after. The day’s events, though unexciting, took a toll on him even with this new body.

There were still many questions left unanswered, but yet he couldn’t find himself to care. He was safe and sheltered, everything else was, and should be met with indifference. Let slumber take him and the future to be taken one step at a time.

He was satisfied.

Dawn’s faint rays cracked through the blinds and upon the empty pillowhead. The bed was already made as Kaff dried himself off after using the washroom. Such a luxury came as a surprise as he thought that door had led to a closet and not a properly plumbed latrine and showerhead, an exceedingly hard sight to come by in Europe.

When he stirred awake earlier he thought it had all been a fever dream. Unbelievable as it was, this was all very real. The cold shower assured him so. Even with a clearer head than yesterday, he found more questions than he did answers.

As he continued tidying his belongings, he supposed the only way to find answers was by simply carrying forward. There was no use squandering second-chances. But of course, he could also go look for a library to improve his chances. If they even had those here.

Yes, maybe that was it. He’d spend today just exploring the town and finding more about the world he was in. Finding firm footing as he’d usually put it.

He got himself some light stretching done to prepare for the day ahead. The satisfaction thereafter was almost nostalgic as the years hadn’t all been too kind to his older self.

He had also found a way to better grip his musket. Granted, it required him to be on his hind legs and therefore some effort to balance, but you work with what you have. The same was said for his sabre if he wanted to actually win a duel. Lunging forward while balancing on two and a half legs while holding a sabre was already a challenge in theory.

Everything was stiff and clunky. It was going to take him time and practice to once again be proficient with his arsenal. He wasn’t planning on duelling every pony he saw on the street, but preparation was what separated survivors and carcasses.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He opened it to find Jace all too cheerfully energetic for the time of day. “I see you’ve already got your wits about you. Ready to head out?” said Jace, looking inside and finding everything already neat and tidy.

“Yes. Though, I think I might stay for another night. My legs are still rather sore and the hospitality has simply been stellar.”

The grin on her rivalled the rising sun just outside his window. “Ain’t nopony in Equestria more accommodating than us folk down south if you don’t mind me tooting my own horn.”

He locked the door behind him and donned his saddlebags as he quipped, “By all means, toot-toot away.”

She let out a suppressed chuckle. “Pa’s already on the counter downstairs. I’ll be waiting outside. The weather’s just gonna be lovely today.”

An odd way to phrase it, but perhaps it was just part of her dialect. Nonetheless, Kaff made his way downstairs and handed the stallion the rest of the pouch. Kaff caught the mild surprise on the stallion’s face when he wrote him another receipt.

He pushed past the front door to see Jace leaning on the neighbouring building. Her gaze was not focused on anything, merely watching the streets as ponies went about their day. She started trotting and Kaff followed.

The morning breeze was alien to his clothless form. He got himself a few glances from passersby, but assured himself that it was the missing leg rather than the nudity. Like many things here, this would take some time getting used to.

“Bet you ten Bits half these ponies are headed for the station for the morning train.”

Kaff made himself aware of the people around him. Packs, saddlebags, and luggage all being towed by ponies that had a hint of hurry in their step. It took effort to not stare at the ones with wings despite him having a pair of his own. He couldn’t decide which was weirder, the inhabitants or the town itself which looked extremely European.

The balance was tipped when he saw a unicorn levitating an overstuffed portmanteau behind him. It was hard to keep his eyes to himself to say the least.

“I’d rather not wager against the local’s knowledge about the town she lives in.” Also, what did she call it? Train? Another item he’d need to research.

She chuckled again. “Well then you’d be smart. Judging by the cloth on their fur, I reckon most of them are Canterlotian.”

“Where and what is ‘Canterlot’?” By the sound alone, he’d guess it was a poor attempt at wordplay with the fictional city of Camelot, which bothered him greatly.

“Yeesh, you travelled far, didn’t you? It’s the capital of Equestria. Big city on the side of Mount Canterhorn. I reckon it’d take you a couple of hours to get there if you’re a fast flyer.”

It was worrying statements like those were surprising him less and less.

“By the way. What’ve you got to pawn off anyways? I’m mighty interested in seeing what a pony like yourself might be carrying in those saddlebags.”

He let out a fake worried laugh. “Here I was hoping I was uninteresting enough to fade into the crowd.” He cracked her a smile and shook his head. “Nothing in my bags other than supplies. However I do have this.” Kaff opened the flap to one of his bags so that only Jace could see what was inside.

“Yep, quite an interesting pony, you are.” Jace looked at the necklace Kaff had usually hidden under his uniform. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re not gonna tell.”

“Oh hush, it’s something from home. It took a lot of effort for me to acquire. Thankfully I hadn’t encountered any pickpursers bold enough to take it from my neck. Not that I’d let anyone know of its existence in the first place, you being the exception.”

Jace admired it for a few seconds longer before breaking eye contact to meet Kaff’s gaze. “I reckon it’ll be worth a hefty amount if it’s real.”

“It is. I have and will bet my life that it is real. I only need to determine how much it is worth in your currency.”

“Well, I’ll try and make sure you ain’t swindled by the shop pony. But just so you’ve got an idea, that waiter you saw at the inn makes about half a bit an hour. An average pony’s pay, I’d say.”

“Noted.”

Debts Forgiven

“Hmmh…”

Rays of light reflected on the necklace’s golden surface as the mare inspected it from many different angles. The precious stones glinted back the aura that kept it suspended in the air.

Kaff idly watched as the unicorn fiddled with his necklace. If he still had fingers, he’d be twiddling them right about now. His expression remained neutral while the minutes passed. The ticks and tocks of the clocks on the wall helped him with his efforts.

The same couldn’t be said with the person accompanying him, however. Jace was all too chirpy as she admired the knick-knacks and seemingly random assortment of items the shop had to offer. She hummed a merry tune Kaff didn’t recognize as the two sat on their stools waiting.

Crossbows, jewellery, and instruments were all just a fraction of what Kaff caught on his peripherals. If the item being appraised wasn’t so valuable he would be browsing the many shelves that caught his fancy. For now, he kept all one hundred and ten percent of his attention on the mare in case anything shrewd were to happen.

He did throw in a few fake glances here and there to make sure he didn’t seem like he was staring. Looking too perceptive was all too suspicious for someone trying to sell something at a pawnshop. Especially jewellery.

Jace had helped him earlier by giving him a rough approximation of how much things were worth here. From the prices visible, it seemed that gold wasn't worth as much as they did in Europe. At least, that was what he gathered after converting those numbers to more familiar European currencies. That, or they were all fakes.

“Yup, it’s real, alright. The spell checks out.” She placed it gently on the counter’s glass surface, numerous gold and silver pieces less ornate were proudly presented underneath. “How much are you hoping to get?”

“Thirty five hundred.”

“Fifteen hundred Bits.” She tapped on the glass. “I already got a lot of these puppies on display waiting for a nice pony to adopt them.”

Kaff scoffed, putting all his acting talent behind it. “It’s worth at least thrice that amount back home. And as you can tell, it’s not exactly light nor minimalist.” A rough approximation, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

She clicked her tongue. “No receipt, no nothing. It’s worth less if you can’t prove you didn’t steal it. I’m not a fence, I’m a pawnbroker.”

Actual jewellers would’ve paid much more, but Jace had told him ponies weren’t willing to buy such expensive items unless you had the proof of purchase. Pawn shops being the exception.

Kaff nodded. “Yes, I agree that I do not have the corresponding documents with me. I lost them in the voyage. However, I can assure you that you will not find anything remotely similar in both design and quality. I offer you the opportunity to acquire something completely unique from the lineup you have in there.”

She seemed to chew on the idea Kaff had brought to the table. She didn’t vocalise it and had done a good job of hiding it, but Kaff could tell she agreed. Nothing in her stock came close to the level of craftsmanship his necklace had.

“I will happily part with it for three thousand. If not, I am sure there are plenty of people out there willing to purchase it for what it’s actually worth.”

She frowned. “No, I can’t do three thousand.” She wanted it, but she did her damned best to not look like it. His intuition screamed this at him.

“C‘est la vie.” Kaff took his necklace off the table. “I believe we’re done here.”

She was quick to refute. “Two thousand Bits and not a hundreth more!”

Kaff stopped mid-way reaching the door, a sly grin proudly materialising on his snout.

“Deal.”

“Please, I insist. Kind souls are a rarity in my travels.”

The streets were now bustling with ponies milling to and fro. This was even more true for the School Jace attended. Ponies around her age funnelled into the building as she and Kaff stood outside.

“I-I can’t accept, Kaff. I just wanted to help. You don’t need to repay me none.” Her cheeks grew faintly red as they started to attract attention from students passing by.

On Kaff’s hoof was a pouch of Bits worth five times the amount Jace had lended him. He had prioritised using higher denominations so it would not attract attention. When she looked inside however, Jace grimaced and quickly refused.

“Really, it was nothing, Kaff. You should keep it.”

“I will not accept nay for an answer.” And Kaff was having none of it. “And I don’t see any reason for you to deny. From a grateful soul and the bottom of his heart, please accept it.”

Kaff could have given her back only what she lent him, but that simply wouldn’t do. Kaff wanted to show her his gratitude for what it was actually worth. And right now, it was worth around forty Bits, or about two weeks worth of labour from what Jace had told him earlier.

“Come on, Kaff. You know I can’t accept that kinda money.” She looked at him pleadingly. “I’m sure you can find a better use for them somewhere else. Really, I don’t mind.”

He sighed. “If it’s that much of a burden to you, then I concede. But, I will propose a compromise.” He pulled out a ten coin from the pouch and tossed it to Jace.

She handily caught it, not taking long to discern its value. “Alright, I guess that’s a heck of a lot more fair.” A bell rang from inside. “And I guess that’s my cue. Oh! You're still sticking around the inn tonight, right?”

He gave her a smug look. “That’s what I spent your money on, so I sure hope I will.”

She snickered. “Come down to the tavern if you ain’t got nothing to do later tonight. Pa’s heading out, and I’m in charge of the floor. Keep me company then, you hear?”

He tipped his hat to her. “I’ll keep my schedule clear.”

“Good, looking at ponies stuffing their faces ain’t the most fun thing to do on a Friday night. And you look like you’re a fun pony to talk to, so see you then, partner.”

Kaff tipped his hat again and said his goodbye. A few ponies wove around him and some glanced quizzically at his probably foreign-looking hat.

Not seeing much use standing around, he went off in the other direction. He’d seen a map of the town a few blocks away, and wouldn’t mind giving it a closer look. There were a few things he needed to sort out before day’s end to keep him at ease, and thankfully the day was young. A town like this would surely have plenty of services to offer.

But even with his day set, Kaff really wouldn’t mind overhearing what was said behind him. This body was simply better at everything compared to his old one, and listening to what people had to say about him was one of them.

“Dang, who’s the colt with the cute butt, Jace?” It was promptly followed by the sound of many books falling over onto the pavement.

Kaff made sure to lower his tail further than what he had thought was already appropriate.

Like the pawn shop, the bank’s doors closed with a chime as Kaff left the establishment. That had went quicker than expected. Inside his saddlebags was a dossier proving his ownership of a recently opened account. And now, those packs felt considerably lighter.

His rumbling stomach reminded him now that that was done, he could finally sit down and enjoy a good meal. He already made a few notes on where he was going to spend his day, and luckily this next one was nearby.

He kept up a smile that matched the rest of the pony populace he saw out on the street, and thankfully he hasn’t been mugged yet. Hence why he went to the bank before finding a good meal.

Hunger was one of the things he’d grown accustomed to suppress. Simply not thinking about it was the first step. When you’ve reached that goal, the second step should already be forgotten. If not, try harder and/or die of starvation. Personally, he’d pick the first option if at all possible. So far it has worked and he has yet to die.

He really shouldn’t have skipped breakfast, but he didn’t want to keep Jace waiting. She was already giving him plenty of her time. A bit of training in patience wouldn’t have hurt him too terribly.

Not that any of that mattered now. A quick glance at the eatery’s sign, and Kaff had found himself inside the establishment in short order. The guide map had stated the place was good for the budget option, so he stepped in.

The chess-patterned flooring was a bit dizzying, but he found a good table not too far away from the counter. The menu items were worryingly hay-themed and meat wasn’t even an option, but they did serve vegetable soup. It was one of the few things Kaff found palatable enough for his now already low standards.

He made the order, and the waitress was off to shout it into the kitchen for the cook to hear. It was disturbing how greasy the tables' metallic surface was on his arms.

While waiting for his meal, his eyes wandered to a family of four enjoying their lunch on the next table over. Just like him, they were also pegasi. Though, their wings were far more immaculately preened and pristine. A fact which made him shuffle the pair on his back uncomfortably.

It was always a shame whenever he couldn’t meet basic hygiene. The first thing people would recognize and remember you by were your imperfections. Word of mouth could easily make your life harder if you didn’t pay attention to basic norms.

A filly toying and fumbling around with their luggage seemed to notice her neighbour as well. The little girl gave him the sweetest smile and waved to him.

Kaff returned the gesture by giving her a much more subdued smile and a simple nod. Such small interactions were always nice. Especially from people who didn’t have the capability to fake it.

The little colt sitting on an adjacent seat seemed to notice him as well. However, instead of another smile and wave, Kaff was startled to find the boy gasping and pointing a hoof at him.

“Here comes another child letting the world know of my imperfections...” He could feel his prosthetic involuntarily shift below him as the recoil had already become instinctual.

“You’ve got no cutiemark!” the colt bellowed as loud as his tiny little lungs could allow.

The child worryingly pointed at his hindquarters. Kaff didn’t see anything there. If anything, it should be clean from the fact that it had been shielded by his packs all morning. Actually it should be clean in general. Those saddlebags were on him ever since he found them back at the beach.

What came next was a series of profuse apologies from the parents and the promise of a stern scolding for the kid. Kaff told them not to worry so much as the colt was just a curious child, but that did little to dilute the sour look they gave the tyke.

Now that he thought about it, if Kaff had to guess, the colt probably meant those colourful marks all the ponies here seemed to have on their flanks. They seemed to be simple icons of random things from what he’d seen.

If that was the first thing the kid had noticed, then it was safe to assume that not having one was stranger than missing a leg. Well, he supposed that’s another reason to keep his packs close to him at all times.

By the time his food came, the family had finished and apologised for the final time before they took their leave, albeit with a little haste. And again Kaff assured them the faux pas was forgiven.

The food was good enough. Not much else to say other than it was better than hardtack. Kaff hadn’t even concentrated on tasting as his mind went over what needed to be done before day’s end for the umpteenth time. He always found comfort in confronting the day ahead with things already planned.

Kaff only realised the bowl was empty when he didn’t feel anything after putting the spoon into his mouth. The waitress likely thought of Kaff weird as he stared into the bowl with lifeless eyes.

He left shortly after. The door closed behind him as the waitress shouted for him to come again soon. The place was nothing special. He’d probably be back.

Kaff sat down on his bed with a sigh, the aroma of the soap he’d gotten hanging pleasantly in the air. He exhaled a long breath as he let himself fall backwards onto the bed, the ceiling a familiar sight.

The room was dim as shadows danced away behind the candle’s light. The wet towel was fresh on his furred belly. A slight breeze brought fresh air into the room as he had left the window slightly ajar. And the wind whispered sweet nothings into his ears. All was well.

He couldn’t quite remember when he had done this last; laying on his back with an empty mind. There were a few things of note to take care of, but that could wait. He missed having these moments.

He idly swung his prosthetic, gently kicking his new saddlepack resting next to the bed frame. He probably shouldn’t do that, but he didn’t really care. It was supposed to be durable anyways, and he hasn’t packed it with anything yet. His supplies were all still hodgepodge on the table and unsorted. He’d need to double-check in case he forgot anything.

Right. A bed roll.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, tossing the damp towel aside. He promised to himself that he’d be on his feet in the next couple of seconds.

At a one, two, and three. The wooden boards creaked at the sudden force of a human-turned-pegasus rising from bed. A yawn escaped his jaw. He stretched and headed out, reminding himself to grab the box before leaving.

Downstairs was fairly alive. A few families at some tables while one or two others dealt cards and jovial tales. He could spot the waiter from yesterday milling about and taking orders; a light pep in his step.

As if knowing he was being watched, the waiter turned his head and made eye contact with Kaff. A sly look on him. With a face like that, no wonder they gave him the job.

The colt gleamed, somehow brighter and pearlier than the fur on his hide. He gestured at a table where Jace was lethargically flipping through the pages of a rather thick book. He winked.

Kaff didn’t quite know how to respond, so he just nodded. It was his default response, but he hoped it was appropriate. Whatever the colt was throwing, he didn’t catch it.

He walked over to Jace’s table while putting on a smile that nowhere near rivaled the one on that colt’s face. He’d have to work on that later.

Jace looked up from her book as Kaff sat down on the cushioned seat. It was surprisingly soft and cozy; unlike the eatery from earlier. He placed the box squarely on the centre of the table.

Jace eyed the item, tilting her head to one side. “What’s tha… -oh! Thanks for swinging by! Almost dozed off there.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” Kaff shuffled in his seat, trying to get his leg into a comfortable position. He pointed to the box. “And that’s the other half of my gratitude.”

She poked it idly, likely noticing it was still warm. “Ain’t we done settling all that?”

“I said no such thing.” He gave her a coy look. “All I said was that I promised a compromise. And if you disagree, take it as a gift rather than recompense. And if you disagree yet again, I already bought it and have thrown away the receipt.”

“Well, thank Celestia you’re not a lawyer.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “What’s in there anyhow?”

His grin grew twice bigger and thrice more coy. “The answer is staring right at you, and yet you choose to ask the messenger.”

Her brow furrowed, but her smile turned playful. She opened the box to find cookies of many differing flavours inside. It was filled to the top, and Kaff could smell it from the other side of the table. Even if high-quality, thirty Bits was still a lot of money to spend on pastries.

She picked one off the top. “Thankful as I am, there’s no more gifts after this, right, Kaff? I ain’t given to putting ponies into bankruptcy over sweets.” She took a bite with a very audible crunch. “Oh, wow. These are good.”

Kaff took the one with purple icing as Jace slid the box to him. “No, no. That’s all. The bakery smelled enticing when I walked by, and I have yet to meet a soul who dislikes chocolate.” He took a polite bite, finding himself agreeing with the price tag.

She started munching on her second cookie. “I ain’t sure if I can finish all of these, or if I even want to.”

“They are yours. Do what you will with them.” Crumbs scattered onto the table as Kaff wiped his mouth and hooves. They fell everywhere, even as he used a napkin to clean himself.

“It’s family night, I think I’ve an idea.” She waved the waiter over.

Kaff looked up to see the colt already at their table with a notepad at the ready. “Jace. Sir. What can I get you two this evening?”

With a mouth full of half-chewed pastry, Jace answered, “An empty plate would do fine for me, Bloom.”

“I think I’ll have the same, but hold the plate,” Kaff added.

Bloom jotted all that down on his notepad. “Would you like to pay for that in cash or would you like to open a tab?”

“You may need to foot the bill for this one, Jace. I’m not sure if I can financially recover from such levels of spending.”

She rolled her eyes, not offering even a chuckle for the joke. But Kaff could see she was suppressing a smile. “When you come back, I want you to go around some of the family tables and offer these to the kids. Feel free to take some if you want to.”

“Ooh, well isn’t that just sweet and tasty. I’ll swing over to the tykes, but don’t hope there'll be anything left on the plate when I get back.” Before heading to the kitchen, Bloom slid the bill over to Jace. Who, in turn, took one look at it, before crumpling it up. She glared at the colt, but he was already off.

Not far away, a roaring fireplace warmed up the cold air, and Kaff could hear children and adults alike laughing. Townspeople and passersby spent the night cozying up inside the tavern. A few tables sat friends together while those patrons shared banter and jovial laughs. The night was lively.

It had been a while since he experienced this. A long time since his derriere sat firmly inside a Prussian tavern, drinking to good health with the few friends he had.

The few friends that he had.

His mind pondered if they would remember him fondly. There were few he ever connected with. And fewer were the times he ever spent with them with alcohol and spirits in tow. It was usually happenstance and work that would bring him and his friends together.

After long nights sorting through documents and envelopes, a tall mug of sunshine easily numbed the mind. Familiar faces helped. And after he left and rejoined the military, that simply couldn’t happen anymore. He couldn’t even write to them. That would defeat the purpose of him leaving Prussia altogether. Then, could he even call them friends if he was so able to leave them behind?

No. Now was not the time. ‘Never’ was more appropriate. He’d perish the thought and burnt it. None of that would matter ever again. That life was dead.

“Say, Jace, I’ve something to ask.”

She looked up from her book, her ears perking up. “Yeah?”

“What’s a cutiemark?”