There are many things I regret in life. I regret staying in an abusive situation for far longer than necessary. Then there's the whole staying in a toxic country, not that I wanna open that can of worms. I regret staggering off into the woods after the accident, since that brought me here to this horse world in the first place. I even regret yelling at the Sun Horse for saving my life. Most of all, though, I regret eating that entire cake.

When she found me at the edge of her lands, lost and barely clinging to life, I was in a bad state. Some of the cuts from the car accident had gone septic, and between the fever from infection, and the dehydration from walking for so long without water, I was probably at death's doorstep. All I really remember was a tall white horse with a mane like the aurora standing over me, a look of pity in her large, expressive eyes as her wings extended to shade me. A winged unicorn?

To my surprise she spoke, but it was like no language I'd ever heard before in all of my life. It was musical, akin to birdsong with an equine aspect to it. She was clearly an intelligent being, but I couldn't understand her. I remember reaching my unbroken arm towards her and pleading. "I don't want to die," I'd cried, not realising that I was getting myself into. "Please, don't let me die alone like this."

At the time, I didn't know how—I'd later attribute it to magic—but she seemed to actually understand me. The last thing I remembered before passing out was a bright light, followed by a warm embrace. I never knew what a mother's love felt like—my father never tolerated any sort of namby pamby shit like that—but that warmth... It was like what I'd always imagined it to feel like. After that, it felt like a mostly dreamless sleep interspersed with bursts of indistinct voices around me.

The next time I woke up, I was on this ginormous four-poster bed in a large marble room. My body wouldn't respond, and there was annoying green thing occupying bottom-middle portion of my field of vision. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was my nose, but it's not like I'm the Incredible Hulk. I don't get stupid strong like that. If I did, I'd be the strongest person in the world, according to my father. Shows what he knew.

"Hey, you! You're finally awake!" Oh god, oh no no no, I want off Todd Howard's wild ride. I want of Todd Howard's wild ride. Wait, that voice is a woman's. I'd managed to turn my head just enough to see a white, horned horse in a maid outfit. "The Princess found you after you crossed the Border of Reality."

I remember thinking at the time that I was hallucinating. Just some brain damage from the car accident manifesting visual hallucinations. There was no way I'd been rescued by a giant white horse with an aurora for a mane, just as there was no possible way that this unicorn in a maid outfit was actually a unicorn; that shit was just fantasy. That I had a traumatic brain injury just seemed all the more rational. I might not have been well educated, but I was well-read.

The second thing I remember thinking about as that maid ran off to grab the attention of her liege lady, was how it was strange that I understood them. When I was found, the winged unicorn was speaking a language unlike anything I'd ever heard. I was in no way a linguist, so it's not like I had experience with conlangs or anything. Could a TBI do that—manufacture an entire language? Assuming this wasn't all some hallucination, then how would I suddenly understand another horse-creature?

The maid said something about a Princess Celestia wanting to speak to me before exiting the room, doing some supernatural glowy shit with her horn and the door. Like seriously, how does the door just open and close like that?

Princess Celestia... is that the name of the winged unicorn that found me? I couldn't help but ponder as the maid trotted off, her horn glowing. The large, ornate door before her swung open to grant passage. And that's... magic? Some sort of telekinesis field?

Just beyond the door, I'd caught sight of more equine creatures. There was a larger horse standing outside the door in what looked to be a winged horse in roman centurion armour. It looked like gold, but it had to be one of those metals that just looked like it... unless the guards here were just ceremonial... but even then, that'd be a lot of money just to decorate some honour guard back home—assuming I'm not on Earth.

But why am I willing to accept this might be a whole new world? I should be a lot more freaked out by all this. Like why nothing is sore, but my body doesn't want to move. Hell, talking fuckin' horses, man! That's pretty fuckin' freaky, right? But I'm just so... calm. Like nothing really matters.

You'd think when she told me that I was under a calming spell and an immobilisation spell, I'd have been a bit more miffed, but given that she told me that some fundamental force of this world had acted through her and turned me into a child of her species, I can sorta understand in retrospect why such calming and immobilisation would be necessary. For the first few days, I was more than a bit pissed and was on a hunger strike, but eventually I calmed down enough to start interacting with the maids and Celestia the odd time that she'd come by to visit. It took a while for it to really all sink in that this was real, but honestly I think it was just too consistent to be anything like a hallucination.

The maids—a pair of sisters who were identical other than their differing pink and blue manes parted on opposite sides—were nice. They were understanding as I fumbled around and adapted to quadrupedal life. They taught me how to grip things with my hooves, and they were very thorough in teaching me how to hold things in my mouth without turning it into a slobbery mess. Hell, the pink-haired one was kind enough to start teaching me to read...

Then of course the problems started. I mean, on a fundamental level, I understand what when you're pissed off at someone—such as a racist prince who thinks I, as an earth pony, am worth less than the marble floor he walks upon—lighting them on fire is probably not the sort of action one should take. At the time, I didn't know what I did to light his tail on fire, but apparently I've got some sort of penchant for something called... runic magic? Regardless, I'd apparently somehow etched the rune for fire on the floor while anxiously scuffing my hooves while the prick dressed me down, and the rest is kinda a fiery blur. The first time was an accident, but from then on, every time he got racist, he got a bit crispy.

At first, all the horses around me were angry at what I'd managed. Arson and grievous bodily harm are a universal constant in terms of laws, it seems... but then things changed when they saw that I'd gained one of those butt-marks all the adult horses had. Suddenly, I needed constant supervision and was pushed to study reading and writing more... Nobody would initially explain what I'd done or how...

Then, one of the maids told me about runic magic, and how I kept leaving something called an ignition rune on the floor every time I would set Prince Blueblood's mane or tail on fire, and that I'd gotten my cutie mark from doing it... I had a penchant for a wildly underutilised field of magic that almost anyone could use. The reason it was so important I learn to read was that I was instinctively doing something that was incredibly dangerous without a fundamental understanding of magical theory. I had a talent that should be nurtured, and quickly.

From then on, whenever I would see the Princess, I would be regaled of stories of her star pupil. She'd go on and on about a young prodigy who, as a master of all magical schools, could nurture my ability in the arcane arts and help me better understand how to live among ponies. There was also something about friendship, but in my old life, I sorta just fell into mine.

The rest is just history. I worked hard for two whole weeks, got super hungry one night before dinner, and snuck into the kitchens. Yeah, I knew it was wrong of me to eat that whole cake myself, but it was worth it, ya know? Next thing I knew, I was in the 'Time-Out Crate', and shipped off here.

~ 01 ~

"As for why she calls me Anonymous, I think it has something to do with my actual name having a 'very sad' meaning in one of your dead languages," I explained, eyeing a coffee-pot on the counter. We'd moved into the kitchen for refreshments while I gave the two mares and a young dragon the gist of my background here, but they would only offer me water or juice. Kinda pissed me off, since I hadn't had caffeine in several hours now, most of which were spent waiting to be let out of the box. "Go figure, Nemo means 'nobody' in one of our dead tongues, and apparently means something even worse in one of yours, eh?"

The three just stared at me as I continued to longingly ogle the coffee carafe. It took a bit before anyone actually spoke up, but when they did, it was disbelief they voiced. "So, you just happened to scuff a rune into the floor and channel magic through your hooves into it?" the mare called Starlight asked. "Why were you even doing that in the first place?"

My ears flattened back reflexively as I met her eyes. "Does the term 'stimming' ring a bell to either of you?" I asked, answering her question with yet another question as I glanced from Starlight to the one called Twilight. The former continued to look confused, but the latter, at least seemed to understand. "It's a self-stimulating behaviour that takes many forms, but the baseline is it's a conscious or instinctive action taken to relieve tension, anxiety, or boredom." My gaze returned to the coffee-maker and carafe. "Back when I had them, I'd often drum my fingers or pop the joints... Can't do that with hooves, so I had to find a form that worked... Ended up being fidgeting my hooves in a way that would create scuffs. I'll trace a pattern repeatedly, pause, and feel it with my hoof, etc. It works for me."

"I'm not giving a foal coffee, Anon," Twilight said, following my gaze. Redirecting, she used her magic to make me look her in the eyes. "If you engage in stimming behaviour, would that mean you're on the spectrum?"

I shrugged and flopped my head on the table at which we sat. "Always with the categorisation, never changes no matter what world you live in. Next you'll be asking me what was in my pants before the change," I grumbled. "No, I wasn't autistic. It was a coping mechanism, and that's all I'll say."

If they weren't gonna give me some stimulants, I was probably due for a nap. One thing I'd noticed since waking up as a small horse was that I seemed to require more rest periods. It was like I was five again... and honestly, from what Princess Celestia told me, this new body is probably somewhere between five and seven years old—maybe even eight. Still, time spent napping was time I could've been studying. There was so much I needed to learn to get by in this world. In the end, I was allowed a small cup of coffee twice a day at my choosing.

The Sun Horse found that insistence on learning endearing... Said it reminded her of her pupil—of Twilight—and that a desire for learning was good, but that knowledge wasn't everything. She wanted me to be able to make the most of my second chance at life. I didn't, and still don't, disagree; I want to be able to have the childhood I never got to have... but there's being passionate but carefree, and then there was being willfully ignorant.

If I have to live in this horse world, I don't just want to survive; I want to thrive. That means learning the written script, learning my physical limits, and then my magical limits... I won't let anyone shape my destiny this time around.

"Spike, maybe you should show her to one of the spare rooms," Twilight commented as another yawn escaped me. "Even if she wants to play the grown-up, she's still quite young." I wanted to protest, but in lacking caffeine, I didn't have much of an option but to rest. A nap before dinner might not be too bad.

Hopping down from the stool, Spike beckoned me with a familiar gesture that I could no longer replicate. My body felt sluggish, but I'd probably manage to hold off until I hit a pillow. "Come on, Anon," he said. "I'll show you to your room."

"Are you sure she'll make it?" Starlight asked, watching me stagger towards the door. "I could take her upstairs."

The alicorn in the room shook her head. "Spike can manage," she interrupted, shooting down that though. "I have something I want to discuss with you." She glanced over to Spike, who was ahead of me, by the door. "Put her in the room next to Starlight's." Finally, her gaze came back to me. "Get some rest. After dinner, we can assess whereabouts your studies are."

I nodded numbly and followed after Spike. Damn her and her not giving me my fuckin' coffee. At the very least, I wanna practice the basic sun-glyphs of written Equish. It's no fun being unable to read and having to ask someone to read something to me. Still, aside from these people treating me like a little kid, they seem genuinely kind—maybe a bit eccentric, but really, that might just be the norm for beings of this world.

The—from my perspective—not so little dragon whelp pointed out several rooms as we traveled the castle halls, but I was only partially paying attention. The library would only be useful to me once I mastered the sun-glyphs, and even then, I'd need to learn the moon-glyphs before I went onto magical theory. That said, I didn't ignore him pointing out that she had almost every magical tome under the sun.

When we reached a particular hallway, he picked up the pace and I had to canter after him to keep up. We were in the guest wing of the strange tree-shaped castle, which of course meant that I was able take a nap. The room he brought me to wasn't fully furnished, though it didn't really need to be for me to nap here. The bed was barren aside from a pillow that was just as big as me, and the chest of drawers was empty, its top surface bare.

It was in no way a large room—especially in comparison to the room I'd stayed in back in Canterlot—but I didn't need luxury. I welcomed the smaller space, though. When you spend as much time on the move as I did, you get used to utilitarian spaces. Hell, I don't even need an actual bed. Just give me a comfy surface like that big pillow and I'm good.

"We can get you some proper bedding later," he explained, remaining in the door. "The restroom is at the opposite end of the hall, and the baths are next to it." He turned to leave, but paused while closing the door behind him. "You don't seem like a regular foal—you're different even from when Twilight was young—so I might as well ask if you have any tea preferences."

I shrugged before pulling myself up onto the bed just enough to grab the corner of the pillow with my mouth. "I prefer black teas over white teas," I said, dragging the pillow off the bed. His eyes were watching me intently; I could tell as much without looking at him. "I dunno if these even mean anything to you guys, but Orange pekoe or Earl Grey are fine. If you ponies have a blend of black tea, cinnamon cardamom, cloves, and ginger, that's my preferred flavour profile."

Without another word, I drug the pillow into the furthest corner from the door and wedged it. Doing as I'd gotten used to doing in Canterlot, I hopped onto the pillow, spun six times counter clockwise and one time clockwise before flopping down. I might've been down a few seconds, and then I was out like a light.

~ 01 ~

I wanna say that dinner was uneventful. Then again, I also don't want to continue a history of habitual lying. It's one thing if you're using it as a survival mechanism, but it's another thing entirely to just lie because you can. I don't think I'm about to get hit with a beer bottle if I voice my mind here—these ponies just don't give off that vibe. I might not trust them enough to dump my personal baggage, but I trust them to not harm me intentionally.

With that in mind, when they started asking about me over dinner—a salad with alfalfa, fruits, and cheese, served alongside egg-salad sandwiches—I decided to be mostly honest with them. I told them that much of my adult life was spent drifting from place to place taking small jobs wherever I went to get by. I shared my passion for reading, consuming random bits of knowledge, and even confessed to enjoying science. No need to tell them that I was also the sort of kid who often used science for mischief... or that I'd almost been arrested for inadvertently turning an old undetonated car airbag into an IED.

Probably for the best that I did leave out the misuse of the arts; despite emphasising several times that in my old world, I was of sexual and (theoretically) emotional maturity, she expressed doubts as to the veracity of my claims. She seemed to have it in her mind that this force—Harmony, she calls it—that acted through the Sun Horse wouldn't have just changed an adult into a child. You know, despite the fact that it apparently did. Suffice to say, if she thought I was going to misuse magic, she might ban me from the apparently huge library she had and prevent me from unrestricted learning.

Spike, for his part, seemed horrified to find out that I was very much 'like Twilight'. I think maybe he was hoping that I might be closer to what a normal foal would be considered, not that I had any real understanding what that even entailed. Was it like being a human child, but naked and a lot more horseplay? I didn't really have any experience with the former, either. I guess he felt lonely being surrounded by the pony equivalent of young adults?

For that matter, what does just one more nerd and I have a full set even mean?

The unicorn of the group, Starlight, was simultaneously easier and harder to read. Most of the time spent during dinner and the earlier discussion following my unboxing, she seemed to either be either afraid to join in the discussion, or couldn't find the right way in. She clearly wanted to help earlier, too. She could be a friend, but she's got her own demons holding her back.

Then Twilight dropped the bombshell that I would be attending the schoolhouse in Ponyville. Of course I protested; anything I could learn in a classroom for children, I could learn in a library, after all. While that seemed to amuse both Twilight and Spike, apparently that was a no go. No, they wanted me to learn the social side of things... to interact with 'foals my own age'. Honestly, I'd had enough of kids even before I was made into one once more—I was more a parent to my siblings than he ever was.

After that revelation, I didn't really feel all that inclined to talk during the shared meal. It was a childish choice to be sure, but what was I supposed to do? Throw a fit and screech that I was an adult and deserved to be treated like one? Oh yeah, nothing says I'm an adult in a child's body like having a tantrum. Not putting up a fuss just felt like less of a bother than fighting her on it on my first day here.

I don't know who was caught more off-guard when the meal was over. Twilight and Starlight seemed thrown for a loop that I was looking to help clean up, or me at seeing their surprise. I mean, there wasn't much that I could actually do, since the counter was too high for me to clean dishes at without a stool, but I could clear everyone's places and bring the dishes to the counter for Spike to wash. I was even willing to wipe down the table.

After that, I was whisked off to the castle library by the purple pointy pony. "Most fillies and colts your age would put up a fight rather than volunteer for chores," she admitted, laying out a tea set next to a sheaf of papers on a large table in the center of the room. She sighed as she levitated teabags from a box with the tea set and placed them into the cups. "I'm happy that you're willing to pitch in, but I know that you didn't choose to be here. I'm not going to fault you for wanting to take time to acclimate."

As she poured boiling water into the tea cups, a familiar enticing scent began to fill the room. "Oh good, this world does have chai..." I murmured, hopping onto a stool at the table. I watched as she pushed the smaller teacup my way with anticipation. "I know you said you don't wanna regularly caffeinate a child, but can I get you to reconsider? Coffee's been a part of my routine since I was thirteen, and even if this new body doesn't have the same physiologically ingrained dependence, you can't just shed ten years of psychological dependence."

The cup and saucer froze just outside my reach. "In Equestria, we call this particular blend Manipuri, but it's interesting to hear that there are parallels between our worlds," she said, noting something down on one sheet of paper with a quill. Not just the tea bit, though. Oh... Oh hell no. "I'm willing to use it as a reward for milestones, but you've given me a pretty good reason to withhold access to tea."

I glared at her, gritting my teeth. I wanted to lambast the mare, and give her a piece of my mind. That said, I get the feeling that she would take my being vindictive as a challenge. "Please, Twilight," I said softly. "I know for a fact that the maids the Princess had watching me were probably doing more than just watch and teach. I bet they have a full psychological profile built up from observation if you need it for reference. It'd save you time, and pressing the wrong buttons, if you just requested it in your next communique."

When I was sure she wasn't about to yank the saucer out of my reach, I stood upon the stool and reached out to grab it. "Now, you wanted to assess my studies, right?" I asked, taking a sip of the glorious cuppa without breaking eye-contact. She actually looked a bit nervous now. Oops, did I show my fangs too much? "I think I had about thirty-nine of the sun-glyphs memorised, and was getting ready to move on to the last thirteen."

Author's Note

1. I'm a big proponent of magics that everyone can use with the right studies. As such, I always like to have fields of magic in my Equestrian settings that don't require one to be a pointy pony to use. Alchemy/potions are a canon form of magic that I've expanded upon in previous works, but there is also stuff like runes and rituals that I'd like to touch upon.

Runic magic can be considered a component of ritual magic, which is surprisingly low-level in what it can achieve, but it can also stand on its own as a sort of... physical programming. If you can inscribe the proper runic 'commands' in the correct order you can achieve effects comparable to any horn-cast spell. The downside is that it requires a lot of preparation time and a very thorough understanding of runes and moon-glyphs.

1. Modern Equish is broken up into two character sets. First is the sun-glyphs, of which there are 52. Much like the latin alphabet, sun-glyphs can be broken into the two sets of upper case/greater glyphs, and lower case/lesser glyphs. These are used in every-day reading, as well as writing a pony's name when their moon-glyphs are not known.

Moon-glyphs, on the other hand, are a bit more complicated. They are used as a means of expressing concepts or entire words in compact formats—not unlike the Kanji of Japanese—and are used to represent proper nouns in writing. It is also heavily used in magic as operators or in place of runes a user is unfamiliar with. With its heavy use in magic, this also means that names have power, so to speak. If you could write out the command to conjure bees and string it together with a command to direct/guide the bees and an attack command for a targeted name in range, you could quite literally build a basic short-range bee-attack. To this, runic magic can often be linked to wands, which have a 'spell' inscribed on parchment and sealed inside.

Finally, Anon's cutie-mark contains a moon-glyph that ironically enough resembles a certain moon-rune: 子(ko, child). This is coupled with a star (and we all know stars relate to magic in horse marks) beneath it in a configuration that resembles the standard ? question mark cutie mark of an Anon horse. Another homage I couldn't resist.

1. It's often seen as a joke that where a 4chan Anon is involved, autistic behaviour is sure to follow. To that effect, homage was paid to this through stimming [an act often misattributed to being purely autistic behaviour] and Twilight's recognition of the existence of the spectrum.

There is more to this exchange that you might've picked up on, however. Anon also notes that people always like to categorise things before mentioning that next Twilight might ask what was in their pants before their transformation. Typically, when you get a depiction of an Anon turned into a filly, they are rather upset about losing their junk [and humanity, but usually more importantly their junk]. This usually relies on the Anon character being a straight, male-identifying character, but what happens when an Anon is nonbinary, or if they eschew the concept of gender completely? Maybe they're an Anon who chooses to be whatever they need to be at that moment. Why should straight dudes get all the fun of being turned into a horse-child?

1. As you've no doubt noticed, this story is tagged dark, sad, and slice of life. Much of the dark/sad tie into one of the themes of this story: trauma and moving on; Nemo/Anonymous didn't have the best sort of life, and much of this story revolves around their struggle to make the best of this new life, while working through the things they had to do to survive in their previous life. For those who have read a certain past work, you've probably seen the dark tag and assume this might go the same way as that story, down the path of 'Cerebus syndrome'. This tag is purely in reference to the exploration of Anon's 'past sins'.