PianoMareStory02

>The door doesn't open as expected. Narratively, that would be horribly boring. Instead, as our protagonist places his hoof upon the door, everything shifts sideways, in a sense.
>Reality seems clearer, somehow. Less like a narrative, or string of words, and more like reality. Of course, most of this doesn't register to our equine hero, but she does notice that she is a mare, though this strangely does not faze her.
>Somehow, she finds herself aware that she has a dove grey coat and a steel blue mane, though she has no mirror by which to gauge such things. Stranger still, she finds she knows her eyes as “pale teal”, though she's fairly certain she never referred to colors as anything more complex than “reddish-orange” or “greenish-blue”.
>A series of names flicker through her head, including such strange names as “Dove Mollusk” and “Orange Topolino”. She’s fairly certain she saw the name Topolino in a book once. Something about spiders..?
>“Pawn of the Mi…” That name isn't even completed before it vanishes from her mind.
>“Cantrip.” The last name seems more forceful, and the mare feels a sense of identification to it. It's her name.
>Cantrip’s attention is diverted a moment, though by what, she can't say. When it returns, she has a horn spiralling out from her forehead.
>The world seems to shift sideways once again, and Cantrip finds herself taking notice of the door once again. As before, she moves to push it open.
>This time, thankfully, it opens as expected. Cantrip steps towards the door, then pauses. Part of her is telling her something, the writing style has changed. She shrugs and dismisses the odd thought, before stepping through the door.
>Cantrip finds herself in a large, vaulted room, a library, perhaps. Books line the walls, and about halfway up is a walkway with more tomes of knowledge, accessible via a staircase on the far end of the library.
>The mare gazes around the library, and, finding that no one else is present, trots briskly over to one of the shelves, pulling out a book at random and skimming the contents. The text of the book seems to be composed of various symbols, none of which Cantrip is familiar with.
>Suddenly, she is stricken with a blinding headache, as various words, spoken and written, pour into her head, sounding like a cross between German, Latin, and the sounds of Horses. The headache soon passes, however, and Cantrip glances back at the book. It seems to be understandable now. The symbols remain alien, but they now carry meaning.
>The book appears to be on basic spellcasting. Cantrip quickly tires of it, as she somehow already seems to know everything that's written. She replaces the book on the shelf, and hears the sound of hoofsteps echoing through the library.
>Cantrip freezes, her mind beginning to spin in panic. She knows she ought to hide, but where? Should she run? She can't get caught here!