Arin awoke with a start, heart hammering in his chest. It was dark – black as pitch, in fact, had Erenorn crumbled? Was he dead?

He focused his eyes, blinking them awake. He lay on something comfortable, the world coming into view as his vision gained focus; the moonlight outside the nearby window gleaming onto the marble floors below. Checkered, refined, nearly reflecting the light against the ornate walls.

Stumbling out of bed, he limped to the nearby window, peeking out into the land.

It was a cloudless night, the beauty of the world pouring in through the glass. He was in an elegant curved room of sorts – looming over a city below, the sprawling ornate homes dotted with light. While the colors were muted to soft blues in the dark, he could see the craftsmanship of the white walls through the night scheme; golden sconces and purple roofs melded into an elegance that could potentially rival that of Alma Sol’s ruby reds and golden trim.

He continued to peer as the moon shifted in the sky – from a stillness that was familiar, into a steady descent behind the far mountains in the distance. The sun quickly roused to the occasion, taking its place just above the crest of the hill. Peculiar. It was like the Gods had decided to change the time of day on their own.

The new light brought new beauty to the world, as he continued to scour the lands. The buildings varied in height and build, an elegant familiarity to their neighbors apparent. As if they were designed to an idea, like a collection of colors that fit well together; not to the taste of the sculptor, but a cohesive agreement by the architects to attempt to stay in the same realm. While of course giving little freedoms, like awnings and porches, overhangs and balconies, towers and other ideas. No two buildings were the same, it felt like – but they all complimented each other in a way that was hard to describe.

Perhaps Alma Sol could have learned from this, before the great Cataclysm. Buildings often followed the idea of the architect, and thus, clashing was more common place.

A gentle rasp at the door caught Arin’s ear, as he turned to face it. “C-Come in!” He called, unsure. He clutched the flask to his chest tightly.

I should set this down, he thought, and quickly did so as the elegant handle gave a short turn, popping open. The door swung slowly, cautiously – as the figure of a large, elegant horse stepped inside. Two guards stood just behind the door, on her command it seemed – both horses as well, though much smaller.

She was at height with him, thought a few inches taller. Her magenta eyes took him in, her billowing mane sweeping through the frame of the door with ease. She bore golden regalia, typical for a ruler, a large horn piercing her ethereal mane. She bore an air of authority about her, her head tilted back. Taking Arin in, inspecting him.

He slid back an inch, his anxiety bleeding through. He wasn’t shocked of the horse; he had met many strange, magical creatures in his time. Though a large selection of them often held traits of his kind. Hands, or a face that bore resemblance to the Ascended. Many of which were of higher class than his own. The few oddities that could speak – but were otherwise animalistic, were the great feline hunters of his world. Also known as the common cat.

Of course, great hunters for their size. Mice and other small game were unable to withstand the fury of a cat on the prowl.

And much like a cat, the horse’s eyes inspected him like prey. Her horn glowed softly, emanating a wave of magic across his form. That golden aura washed over him, making his skin tingle.

Her large eyes – once piercing – softened immeasurably, and the tension in the room lessened. She gave a polite cough, breaking the quiet.

“I am Princess Celestia, Co Ruler of Equestria. Welcome to our world, Sir?…” She started, her voice carrying an air of kindness behind it, along with authority. One that didn’t need to be questioned – her posture alone confirmed that.

“I-I’m Arin.” He stuttered in reply, kneeling before her.

Celestia noted the motion; he was much like a minotaur, though definitely smaller than one. His head bent low, in sheer respect.

“Arise, Arin. You may stand at ease. I welcome you to your new home – Equestria, on the world Equis. I believe your King – Leotoln was it? Reached out to me the other day. His brief summary of the events of your world seemed… troubled.”

She twirled a hoof around in the air, as if trying to will her words to come together. While Arin couldn’t detect anything behind the stone mask she wore, he had the feeling that she was curious. And the question was apparent, as well.

He rose to his feet, stumbling to his right as his leg threatened to give out. Celestia’s magic grasped him, stopping him from colliding with the nearby dresser. The motion made her take in his appearance again, studying his torn pants, and worn boots. Dried blood clotted across the simple brown towards his right ankle, and as his hands seize the regal table, his left shot back out of reflex. It was swollen towards the middle.

The Princess’s mind shifted from curiosity, to sympathy. The disheveled being barely seemed conscious as he was, and he was clearly in some form of pain that he quickly hid.

“Are you alright?” She asked quietly. “May I see your arm? Your left one.”

Arin nearly winced at her request, but gingerly presented the damaged appendage. Celestia sat on her haunches, slipping the regalia from her front hooves. Timidly, she took the arm in her grasp – eyeing it quietly. She slid one of her pristine white hooves along the skin, up towards the center of his forearm. She gave it a squeeze, frowning as her guest winced in reply.

“Move your claws, if you can.” Her kind voice held his attention, as he tried to roll his wrist. With limited movement, it swiveled partially to the left – before he hissed through his bared teeth.

“Broken. I won’t have a guest of the crown writhing in pain likehe’s being interrogated for answers; additionally, don’t take this harshly, but you smell absolutely ripe. If you’re not in too much pain to stand, the door to your left is your private bathroom. Relax and bathe yourself. I will call for a medic to tend to your wounds. Do you require any assistance bathing?”

Arin blinked. Assistance bathing? His cheeks grew red, and he quietly shook his head ‘no’. The Princess nodded.

“Very well. I believe we may have spare clothing that may suit your species. I’ll send to the maids to fetch you what they can. If not, a clothier will stop by your room shortly, to take a few measurements.” Her smile never wavered, as she slowly released his arm from her gentle hooves. Dare he say it, he could feel legitimate affection for his situation.

For another solid moment, he was dumbstruck. No one had ever cared for him this much before; not even his own mother. And she spoke as if it were nothing. It could just be that he was deemed valuable, for this moment. His words could be gold to the Princess, and her budget to mine that gold could be immense.

Instinctively, he put his guard up, nodding. The last thing he wanted was to be indebted to another nation; slavery often followed close behind. The moment he could, he would leave this castle and seek out a home of his own.

“Wonderful. And there’s one more thing I must do before I leave.” She lifted a wing, revealing a scroll. With a flick of her magic, it unraveled. From under the other wing, she withdrew a golden quill. She darted it across the page, signing it in three different locations before turning it towards Arin.

“I hope I spelled your name correctly. Arin. A-R-I-N. Correct?”

She presented the scroll to him, a warm smile filling her features. In return, the Inert looked up to her – confused.

“Oh, yes, of course. You can’t read our language. This is your official citizenship. You are now a fully fledged Equestrian Citizen. I hope that this eases any worry in your heart. I’ll use a translation spell for you. I promise you no harm.”

Her horn flashed, golden string enveloping the document. The magic seeped into the page, before it flashed in a twinkling light. And as the magic faded, he could read the page.

“Is this an illusion?” He asked quietly, reaching out to touch the words with his good hand. “What class am I?”

He could read the whole page – it wasn’t long, of course, and the fresh ink showed a quickly written description of him in the margins. Dated, signed, and lacking one more element – his signature.

Celestia’s eyebrow raised. “Class?”

“Class… below a standard citizen. Right?”

The Princess shook her head, frowning. “Equestria is a land of equality. I would never delegate any to a lesser stature than their neighbor.”

His heart fluttered in his chest. Equality? This is too much to be true. He’s awoken to a dream. Surely this must be false. There must be a catch. He looked into her magenta eyes, as if searching for a lie. Any reason not to believe her.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Arin’s voice cracked in a whisper. He tried to hold back tears – but they streaked down his dirt coated cheeks. “I… you just met me.”

The Princess couldn’t help but feel her heart melt, and her mask drop. If only in the faintest. “No one wishes to be an outcast from circumstances beyond their control. Your destiny shouldn’t be written by the voice of others.” She offered him the quill.

His stony exterior cracked, and for the first time since he was a child, he gave a small sob. His heavy voice wavered, the tears falling freely while his hand slid across the page, signing with a gentle flourish.

“You…” He tried to speak, to form words. Instead, the Princess’s wings reached out – gently embracing him.

“It’s alright, Arin. Breathe. What you’ve must have been through far outweighs this generosity. You are safe now. All I ask is that you relax for the moment, and prepare to speak to the physician. Tonight you will rest, safe here in this room. You may roam if you wish, provided you are escorted by a caretaker or guard. Tomorrow, we will speak again. If you need anything, speak with your guardians by the door. They are here to protect you, not restrict you.”

The Inert cried freely for several moments into her pleasant wings, a wave of emotion taking over him. How could she do this for a stranger? Was he being too pathetic? He hoped he wasn’t staining her coat, and he knew he felt weak. But… it was too much. He was fried, mentally and emotionally.

This had to be a dream.

Her wings fell, and she stood back – regalia slipping back over her hooves with practiced ease. She gave him a nod and a smile, and a bow of her head.

“Rest well,” she hesitated for emphasis, “my subject.”

With an elegant flick of her tail, the Princess turned towards the door. She said something quietly to the guards at hoof, before they both gave a salute; turning to face the hallway.

And with a click of the handle, it slid shut. And the Inert was alone.

He sat on the bed, sniffling. Wiping the tears away with his good hand, heart beating hard in his chest. Just to be safe, he gave his leg a hard pinch through the roughly fashioned cloth. Hard enough to draw blood.

The pain stationed him in this world; he wasn’t dreaming. He was awake. He stared at the floor, letting the tears recede. His emotions swirling inside of him, all of this – it was just so much to take in.

First the great Cataclysm, that eviscerated his world to magma spewing shreds. His town, Milla Serine, wiped clean off the map. All of those he knew, the few he could call friend – dead. Becoming the last of his kind, before the once feared King himself gave him a new life in a new world. And in that new world, he was given hope.

He couldn’t find words to describe the emotional shock. His brain ticked, and one word popped into his head. “Wash”.

Numbly, he stood up – limping to the bathroom. He turned the handle, half expecting to fall into a pit or for the world to implode from such a simple action. Instead, he was met with an elegant tub, an ivory counter with a porcelain sink, and other plumbing typical of a bathroom.

Somehow, this almost made him feint. To see something so real and boring, after a day like this? Too much. Maybe the simple act of cleaning will ease his burnt nerves.