Running Out on the Edge

My return to consciousness is slow. I feel, rather than see, things moving around me, but I am unable to tell if I am moving or if they are. I see nothing, but it is hard to tell if the nothing is light or dark. I cannot distinguish colour, brightness or saturation. This is bad, very bad indeed. Deciding on what seems to be the sensible course of action, I attempt to focus my mind on my orientation. Whether or not I am lying down, if I decide my angle to the surface I am on I will be able to perceive the surface as existing, solid, and therefore from there have an existing framework upon which to build my perception of my surroundings. I feel a pressure to my side, my left. And yet, I feel something on my right as well. Both are light pressures, as if wrapped in a blanket. As I begin to focus more and more, I feel it all around me, cocooning me. Perhaps I am in a hospital bed. No, English hospital beds tend to have somewhat hard mattresses, I cannot be. Could it be my own bed? Doubtful, the school would send me to a hospital if I had blacked out and not come round within a few minutes. No, where I am is something that will have to wait.

I am no further forward in deciding my current position, but I am further forward in my own self-awareness. As I become aware that I am unaware of my orientation to the ground below, I realise that my body feels… off. I cannot yet move anything to test the theory, but I feel different. I can sense my centre of gravity is different, as though I would be crawling on all fours. And by that logic, I can take an educated guess that I am face down to the ground. As if reaffirming this, the pressure on my front grows more pronounced. I attempt to open my eyes, but my still shaken mind will not allow me movement aside from the slight shifting of pressure on my front that implies that I am breathing. I accept this and allow myself to regain my senses in my own time.

“Hello?” A voice. A recognisable word in an understandable voice. As if this is the catalyst I require, my other senses flood back to me. I open my eyes, the sudden light burning my retinas. Thank goodness, pain. Physical discomfort. I am not dead. I groan loudly and shift myself, then stop. Again, the feeling that my body is incorrect persists. My legs seem to be facing the wrong way, pointing forwards as if I am sitting with a footstool. My face feels as if it is pointing upwards, as if looking into the sky. Well, looking directly forwards if I am indeed lying on my front. I choose to look around, as best as I can, rather than decide my bodily positioning.

As my eyes adjust to the burning light, I notice something almost directly in front of me. It looks to be a person. The source of the voice? Perhaps. I attempt to speak, forcing a harsh croak from my throat with no words to guide it. This has the unfortunate effect of forcing my eyes to focus almost perfectly, throwing the person in front of me into perfect relief. A horse stands before me. A lavender horse, with wings and a horn.

I close my eyes and welcome the sweet embrace of death.

"Hello? Sir?"

Said sweet embrace is not arriving. I cough once, then open my eyes and speak properly, my voice raspy.

"Where am I?"

"You're awake! Celestia, he's awake!" The horse in front of me tilts her head upwards to speak to someone behind me. The horses can speak. Interesting.

"I am aware, Twilight," begins a new voice, behind me. I tune out the voices and focus on moving my body. This forces me to have to look at my body and realise that things are different. Very, very different. To begin with, my skin appears to be covered in some sort of fine, blood red hair. Secondly, my hand has been replaced with what appears to be a hoof... The realisation kicks in now, and I scramble upwards, gaining my somewhat shaky balance once more on all fours, where a horse would naturally stand. I surprise myself, this stature is somewhat comfortable. Interesting.

"Sir?" I turn to the source of the voice, a huge, brilliant white horse with a long, flowing mane, two enormous wings and a long, pointed horn. I can sense her to be a being of immense power. "I am Princess Celestia, Diarch of Equestria. May I ask, what is your name?

Interesting. I am presented with a choice. Here, I can reveal my true name, or I can pick a new name, one that I feel I can accept. No more Alex. No more human names. Having shed the human form, I can now shed the human classification. I raise my head and stare her straight in the eye.

"I am Kami."

In other words, I am God.

The mare looks at me coolly, then seems to accept the name. "Kami. Twilight Sparkle and I have summoned you to Equestria for one reason. You are required to protect Twilight Sparkle through her journey to Hollow Shade, near Fillydelphia. I chose you because, as a human, you have the raw power required."

"How exactly does the power differ between a human and, let us say, a trained guardsman, like him?" I gesture to a nearby horse wearing golden armor.

"Because, unlike humans, ponies will refuse to kill. However, humans have shown the capacity to kill throughout their history. Is it not true that your species has committed mass genocide on your own species? More than once?"

"I fail to see how this correlates to me specifically. Or did you believe any human would be able to?" The mare falls silent, unsure of how to answer. I press my advantage. "Throughout recent years, humans have become more accepting of each other. The African-American Civil Rights Movement of 1955-1966 has effectively abolished racism and the ongoing Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Transgender Rights Movement is currently succeeding in removing the threat of homophobia around the world, minus several countries."

Celestia is silent as I finish. After three seconds, she stands. "That does not matter. You are not a part of those movements. In fact, you are the pony, er, person for the job." They're ponies, not horses.

Interesting.