The price of impatience
As you stand rubbing your eyes in front of the big mirror, you hear approaching footsteps, the swish of a drawn curtain, and the shopkeeper's voice behind you: "So how are you doing in... Oh, I see. You chose the special deal. We don't get many of those this time of the year."
You turn to shoot him a quizzical look. "Hnurghn?" Now that wasn't particularly articulate, even for you. You try again but only succeed in making more horsey noises.
"Don't strain yourself, dear," the shopkeeper says. "Everyone knows centaurs don't talk like we do." Well, that's certainly news to you, but then five minutes ago you didn't even know they existed! "There is a translation spell available, but it is not part of the standard package. Besides under the special deal it's up to your master to provide whatever he finds necessary."
You stare blankly at him, your mind racing. Master? Deal? You were only trying on a costume - or whatever it is!
Seeing the confusion in your eyes, the shopkeeer continues in a less certain tone: "You... did read the card, right?" Another awkward pause. "Surely you must have seen the sign!"
The sign? Sure, you saw the big garish sign warning customers (or was it costumers, you think) to thoroughly check the contents of the box prior to application or some shit like that. You just didn't pay it much attention. After all, everything is covered with warnings and disclaimers these days; you can't even buy a freaking burger without signing a waiver in case the sauce is too hot for you. Besides you did examine both the skin, the saddle and... You recall a glimpse of white cardstock, but thought that was just part of the packaging.
Turning around, you spot a white rectangle on the floor of the changing room. The shopkeeper holds out a hand, and the card jumps off the floor and flies into his hand, flipping over in the process. Okay, so he's magical too. You should have guessed that much.
"Yes, this is the one," he says after scanning the card. "It must have slipped out of the box in your haste. You can take that as a lesson in patience, free of charge."
You nod and shrug, wondering when he is getting to this deal you are supposed to have made. Fortunately he is on the same track.
"Now these "costumes", which really are full body transformations..."
"Hruuufh?"
"I said these "costumes", which really are..."
Yes, you heard right the first time. Somehow this guy managed to pronounce the quotemarks without resorting to finger gestures. You nod and wave at him to go on.
"They are heathen expensive, so few people can afford them. To increase the customer base, we have this special deal where you pay for the transformation with a year's service in lieu of cash."
Realising one possible meaning of what you heard, you gasp and cross your hind legs.
"What? Oh, not that kind of service. Well, there is a breeding program, but that is entirely voluntary. In short, provide a foal and you're home free."
You snort angrily, flaring your nostrils and hoping that shows just how far out of the question that is. (Though you secretly wonder if you'd have to 'do it' with another centaur, a man or - gods forbid - a stallion.)
But the shop keeper isn't ready to drop the subject yet. "Actually there is a loophole," he confides. "You have to provide a foal; it doesn't have to be yours."
Now there's a possibility. If you remember correctly, you have an uncle who is a horse breeder...
"It does have to be a centaur, of course." Well, so much for that.
"As for how you got into this mess, are you familiar with the concept of the King's Shilling?" You shake your head. "Well, in the old days a man who got recruited as a soldier or sailor would receive a shilling as his first payment. As few people at that time knew how to read or write, accepting a shilling from a recruiter was considered equivalent to signing a contract. The magic kingdoms have a similar problem. In short, you are wearing the King's Bridle."
You shake your head and reach for the last fastener you remember closing. It isn't there. None of them are, it's like the whole outfit is welded together around you.
"There has also been some trouble with breaches of contract, so they have started using enchanted gear. It won't come off until you have fulfilled the contract. Neither will the skin, so you're a centaurette for the duration."
"It's going to be a big change, but it isn't so bad really. Centaurs are expensive to keep, so whoever you get assigned to is unlikely to put you to menial work or abuse you. And if it happens anyway, you can complain and get reassigned. There will be frequent inspections, so don't worry about not being able to voice your concerns."
"Centaurs can get all kinds of work, from war steeds to educators to standing around looking decorative. There have even been some experiments with using them for farm work, but even though they saved a lot on food, they couldn't compete with the prices. Anyway, a young filly like you wouldn't be strong enough to pull a plow in the first place."
"And remember, once the contract is fulfilled you are free to become your old self again, remain a centaur or keep changing at your whim. Take Marla here."
You suddenly become aware that the shopkeeper has been walking around the room with you in tow, and that you're getting accostumed to moving this way. He stops in front of what looks like an ordinary family picture until you realize it's a family of centaurs. Marla must be the adult female, and judging from the markings both the young ones are hers.
"She got lucky. Got hired by another centaur. (He indicates the oldest male) They enjoyed each others' company so much she decided to remain a centaur and stay with him. And now they are married and have, as you see, two fine foals. Born free, as centaurs ought to be."
He turns to the back door. "Speaking of freedom, it's going to take some time to find a position for you. In the meantime you can hang out in the garden. There's fresh fruit in the fountains and clean water on the trees... other way round actually! (And no, neither is magical) Shelter for bad weather, soft quiet places to sleep, open spaces for running, and even some old rotten stumps you can kick into smithereens if you feel so inclined - and you may get some company later. Be seeing you." And with that he opens the door for you and steps aside.
Written by Won-Tolla on 07 January 2011
The end (for now)