Out From the Shadows

Out From the Shadows

Chapter 4

The Great Illusion

Time sure flew by awesomely slowly.

Since Zecora had departed, it had only been about an hour, but I still couldn’t make up my mind about what I should do.

I thought about either taking a walk, staying at a safe distance from the city that was nearby, or trying my luck by going in it with a bit of magic of my own, to disguise myself as one of the natives.

Going back and forth in the zebra’s house, I went over the question over and over again.

Learning more about an unknown species?

As interesting as this prospect might be, there’s a chance I may get caught. Even if Zecora told me the ‘ponies’ living in the city may not try to harm me, I’m not exactly sure what would be their reaction if they suddenly noticed I was trying to hide amongst them. Do they have some kind of anti-caster guard unit? Even if a normal city-guard squad was to arrest me, I’d probably have a hard time explaining my presence here, and I’d probably get questioned a lot.

But…

On the other side, I am getting the chance of a lifetime, having the possibility to learn about a somewhat civilised species, yet most probably unknown to Faerûn. Maybe I could even write a whole book about all this, and then… I’ll become famous, the first explorer to have discovered another…

...Another…

… I’m still not even sure exactly how to call the separation between Faerûn and here.

I think I’ll settle with the word “world” for now, in absence of proof that this land exists on Faerûn. I mean, there are a lot of exotic places, and even strange planes of existences, but all of them are at least quite heavily documented, and I think I’ve already gone reading through all of them a dozen times.

This one… I’ve never heard of.

“You have not moved for a few days, and now you keep ‘taking a walk’ inside this tree. I don’t understand how your specie work, half-elf.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, and raised an eyebrow at my familiar, which was now perched on one of the hanging branches of the structure I was in — apparently my caretaker’s house.

“What do you mean ‘inside a tree’? This is a house, actually.”

She shook her head, which seemed too human-like for an eagle.

“To me, this is a tree.”

As she said this, she sent me the mental image of a large tree, which was isolated in a small glade inside a forest. I didn’t really understood what she was trying to explain to me.

“Well, of course this a tree, what are you…”

I have to admit, I had overlooked the details of what she was trying to show me, but as I focused a little bit more on the larger tree of the image, I realised it had a door… And holes made to look like windows, and I instantly recognised the pattern.

“Wait… You mean this house is actually carved within a tree?”

I did not really give her the chance to answer, as I made a run for the door, and went outside, making some distance between the building and me to see it whole.

While I acted on an impulse, I quickly regretted suddenly running out like that because pain shot through my legs and chest, reminding me that I should not strain myself after what had happened.

After taking a brief pause to recover, I continued my initial train of thoughts, taking in the picture of my host’s house with my own eyes.

As much as I thought this unbelievable, I couldn’t really argue with the fact that I was in front of a house made out of a tree, standing there in the middle of a clearing. Or was it a tree-shaped-house?

Even if the clearing and the tree itself had a gloomy sense to them, I stood in awe in front of the structure. The performance was impressive.

I was soon followed by my familiar who flew out of the door, and came to perch herself on my shoulder.

“I don’t get why this is so special to you, half-elf. It’s just a tree… And there happens to be someone living in it. Most of my specie also live on or around trees.”

I didn’t really press on further, because it would be hard to explain why this structure defied the laws of nature, if only because a carved-out tree should wither and die in only a few weeks, whereas this house is clearly inhabited since more time than that.

“Yes, you’re probably right.”

Putting this matter aside, I however noted I should ask my host about that. I wanted to know exactly how this could be possible.

Now that I was outside I noticed that the beaten path to my host’s house led to another larger, and cleaner one, which itself led in and out of the forest.

Even if the glade surrounding Zecora’s place was a bit dark, it seemed to brighten when looking at the entrance of the forest, while on the contrary seemed to darken when looking through the path leading deeper into the woods.

It seemed there was nobody in the immediate surroundings, and I allowed myself a bit of respite. I breathed deeply, taking in some much-needed fresh air. I rarely felt more alive than at this very moment, even when considering my currently wounded state.

I also noticed that the earth was a bit muddy. It had probably rained recently, but for now the sun was shining high into the sky, with barely any clouds in sight. This already nice setup was added a perfect touch as a slight breeze ruffled through the nearby trees, making their leaves rustle as it passed.

Staring through the forest’s edge, I could make out a few buildings from afar, which probably were from the city Zecora had described to me, ‘Ponyville’ if I remembered correctly.

It was quite the change in architecture though. It seemed my host lived like an hermit inside a tree, whereas the city’s buildings in the distance were clearly made out of more strong materials like stone, or their equivalent, with a modern design. With such a distance, I couldn’t really be sure about such details, however.

Now just seeing that from afar piqued my curiosity. I decided to at least get some information about the city.

“Do you mind if I ask you to visit that city for me? I want to see it closer. Having an aerial sight of it could help me understand what kind of civilisation level they have.” I asked to my familiar.

“Oh, you have no idea how I missed flying while you were lying in that bed. Let me do a few checks before I go, though,” my familiar said, with excitement transpiring in her thoughts.

And while staying on my shoulder, she extended her wings one after the other. I felt her sore muscles stretching out, and she quickly looked through her wings to make small adjustments in the feathers pattern with the help of her beak.

After a few seconds of rummaging through, straightening misplaced feathers, she retracted her wings and made a satisfied screech.

“Ready whenever you are, half-elf,” she said.

As she said that, I focused on our empathic bond, allowing its nature to flow more than usual into my being.

I closed my eyes, focusing not on myself, but on my familiar. She did not oppose my presence, and so she shared her vision with me. I could suddenly see through her eyes.

Before I go on, you should know that seeing yourself through another point of view is quite disturbing when you first do it. However once you’ve done it quite a few times, it just stops mattering.

Seeing through an eagle’s eyes is quite an interesting experience. While the vision angle is quite similar to those of a humanoid, colors are slightly dulled. The most visible change however, is in the precision of the vision.

I could make out details in the bark of the trees around us at this distance that would require me to almost be standing with my nose touching it if I wanted to see that by myself.

The motions, notably the leaves shivering slightly into the wind were impeccably trackable, whereas it would have appeared slightly blurry to me if I had not focused on a particular leaf.

I even perfectly noticed a few movements in between some of the trees of the forest. My familiar’s instincts categorised those as “potential prey”. Having already done a few ‘flight’ sessions while seeing through her, this was not exactly new, but the sudden change in vision perspective is always impressive.

I gave her a mental “Ready,” and with that, she jumped off my shoulder, and flapped her wings powerfully to rapidly get some altitude. And so our ascension began.

Already we were way above the dense forest but she kept on going higher. My familiar gave a sideway glance to my position, scanning the area around my still-standing body.

“Safe,” she said, after a few seconds of examination as she caught no movements around.

She then turned her attention toward the city.

From there, I noticed the constructions for the most part had either gabled or cross-gabled roofs made out of what I assumed was straw, or something similar-looking. From this point of view, the roofs were all I could see.

As my familiar continued her approach, I began being able to discern the main design of the buildings, made out of wood for the overall structure and some kind of stone-like material to fill what space was left in between the planks

We were now gliding above the city, and I could see the natives walking around the streets.

What struck me first was not the fact that they were ponies, pegasi and unicorns. That, I could have understood, since those creatures do actually exist. However I was not aware of any sentient group settlements of those races. At least as far as Faerûn’s history is concerned. And so I wondered how such races had developed into a civilised state.

I also noticed they all ran around naked for the most part, which I found quite disturbing at first. Most civilised races put shame on nudity at the very early stages of their development whereas here, it seemed they just didn’t care.

But the thing that actually drew most of my attention was the fact that they were… Multicolored.

Blues, reds, greens, yellows, whites, blacks; whatever color and any of its shades or combination were apparently a valid fur or hair color for these creatures. From what Zecora had described me about them, she forgot to mention that detail.

To my knowledge, unicorns and pegasi both shared a white-only coat, while normal ponies can be… Well, you know… Normal colors like brown, white, grey… I don’t know. I simply was not expecting them to be vividly colored. Unless it was a custom their civilisation shared to paint themselves?

Before I could make out any other details, my familiar turned her gaze toward the forest again. From what I felt, I knew she was trying to look out for any other signs of danger around me, however she was now too far away to spot me in the dense forest.

She was starting to be uncertain about if she should continue or go back to cover me in my temporary blindness.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if anything goes wrong,” I tried to reassure her.

She mentally nodded and her attention was drawn back to the city, enabling me to take more details about the town below. However she still was not convinced about my security.

Her concern was still a very present feeling, and so I decided to ease her.

“...Alright, give me a second.”

I cut myself off from my familiar’s sight, and found myself standing again in the pathway to Zecora’s home.

A quick glance assured me that nobody was around, and I went back into the security of my host’s home. After laying comfortably onto the bed (because standing while sharing vision requires some mental efforts I’m more than willing to stop using for now), I projected myself into my familiar again.

“Now, you shouldn’t have to fear anything,” I said. She seemed more comfortable now, and we went back to sightseeing the city.

We hovered over another one of these tree-made-building.

I was now beginning to think that was something those ponies knew how to make at will. While Zecora’s house looked slightly grim and and rustic, this one did not look out of place with glass windows to cover most of the openings. Also the tree looked quite healthy, really fitting the context of the well-kept and decorative vegetations around the modern houses.

Funnily enough, as we passed by, I saw a sign planted in front of the main door depicting an opened book. If I was not mistaken for it being the sign of a library, I could only laugh at the irony of a library made out of a tree.

You know, because most scrolls and book pages are also made out of trees or other natural vegetation.

Also, it was kind of a poor choice if you asked me, considering the chances of everything being burned would a fire start right there.

My familiar’s attention was naturally drawn by her instincts to the part of the city with the most movement. And so, before my eyes appeared a market, with a lot of stalls for wares and products of all kinds, but the most dominant product there was food.

The alleys were crowded with ponies, either simply passing-by or actively conversing with the storekeepers while trading for goods. Clearly this was the most busy part of the city at that moment.

I was fascinated at how ponies had their own ways of carrying things around — those wingless and hornless seemed to have bags on their sides to take things around, while unicorns most of the time used a telekinetic spell to keep objects afloat as they made their way, as could attest the colored aura around their horns and items.

Pegasi shared the trait of their flightless and magicless counterparts to have saddlebags, but I’ve seen a few of them content to use their wings as a way to carry things around, which surprised me.

I also noticed their faces shared some traits I noticed on Zecora, namely the fact they almost resemble what I had been expecting of a pony, except for the mostly flattened muzzle and quite huge eyes.

As my familiar finished flying over the market, her vision turned to another part of the town, and after a few other wing flaps, I could see a few buildings with very distinctive signs hung above their entrances.

While the one with a quill and a couch’s meaning went over my head, there were a few other ones that were universally understandable, like what I assumed was a tavern with a beer-filled mug symbol as a banner, or the one with a bed sign which was probably the local inn.

There was also a distinctive building on that street that looked like it was made out of candies and pastries. Just looking at it was mouth-watering. I hoped I was not drenching my host’s bed with my saliva right now.

This one street had a moderate activity, and I even saw a brown pony stumbling while trying to walk out of the tavern, as it was being yelled at by someone standing in front of the entrance. I found this scene quite amusing.

I mentally noted the location of the tavern if only because that would be my best bet at getting information, namely, my location or any other valuable knowledge. At least, that’s implying those fantasy books were any right about traveling and adventuring, taverns being reputed to be the best place for getting those.

We passed by a tower-like building in the middle of the city. It was the tallest of the area, and it seemed like an important building.

However what led the huge front double-doors entrance to be completely destroyed, I had no idea. A few ponies were working on it though, with a few tools in their…

I did a double-take to make sure I was not hallucinating.

They do that with their mouth? Really? How...

“How else would they do it?” My familiar interjected to my apparently transparent thought.

Much to my disdain, I had to admit after a few seconds of reflexion that I got outsmarted by my eagle. “Good point,” I conceded.

After passing through a few others districts, I had made up an intellectual map of the area, and I began mentally reviewing about what I’ve seen so far about the ponies here.

Up to now, the technology level seemed quite close to what I’d expect in Faerûn. Maybe I wasn’t that far from Amn then?

I thought about this idea, and asked, “I am curious about the surroundings, could you take a look around?”

My familiar executed herself, looking in the distance, and I saw the city was bordered with what I assumed was a farm. There were a few animals going around a barn , and a very large orchard running down a good portion of the plain next to the city.

She turned her gaze, following the horizon I saw yet another forest, and plains sprawling with vegetation. She went on until I saw a very large mountain in the distance. The peak was obscured by the passing clouds making it look very huge, but what made it stand out mostly was the castle embed to its side.

From where I was it was difficult to make any other details about the castle, except that there were two waterfalls running along the side or going through the castle itself.

Even from afar the architecture was majestic, and the city around it impressively vast considering it to be built at the flank of a mountain. I would not have been surprised if it hosted some royalty or important personalities of this area. Even the castle I live in looked really pale in comparison to the vivid white structures and their nicely decorated gold-purple spires.

As my familiar redirected her gaze to the next object in the distance, I snapped out of my reverie, and said, “This landscape does not really ring any bells to me. Plus I haven’t heard of a castle implemented on the side of a mountain in my books.”

“I do not remember of this area either, half-elf,” she stated.

She then made a circle around the city, and we were now heading back toward the forest. I also noticed the river I stumbled upon my arrival actually ran out of the forest and crossed at an extremity of the city. How I could have missed this detail on our way to the city, I had no idea.

There was nothing else noteworthy in this decor, and so my familiar proceeded to travel back to my position.

A few wing flaps later, and she was back to the forest. She followed the pathway back to Zecora’s house, simply gliding all the way there using the momentum she had built by being so high in the sky earlier.

I was slightly discouraged to see that Zecora was not on her way back, as could attest the empty paths my familiar went through as she arrived at the tree-house.

Preparing for her arrival, I cut myself from her sight and went to open the door, right as she whizzed past me and gracefully perched on a hanging branch inside, blowing a gust of wind on me as she did so.

Now that she was perched, the first thing she did was to rummage again through her wings.

“Whew, I really needed to stretch my wings,” she said, right as she adjusted a misplaced feather, which caused her to emit a small satisfied caw.

“We should do that more often, half-elf, I find it pleasurable to see that you enjoy the sight while I fly.”

“Probably…”  I half-heartedly said.

Even though I can’t argue with the fact that I really enjoy the experience of following her in her flight, my mind was drifting somewhere else right now.

After closing the door, I pensively put a hand around my chin, and began pacing back and forth, quite much in an imitation of what I was doing before the whole flight session. I thought over what I saw about the ponies and the city. It was clear that this city was peacefully prospering, not having something even remotely close to a slum or a badly maintained district.

Also I don’t remember seeing something looking like a guard or peacekeeper, but maybe that’s just me not being able to make the difference between types of ponies. I mean, in de’Arnise, you wouldn’t miss the fully-armored and weapon-wielding soldiers standing straight at attention at some corners of the streets, or the peacekeepers patrolling through at night with their lanterns.

One thing was for sure: the city did not have any fortifications either.

Thinking over about what Zecora had said earlier about coming back ‘before Celestia’s star could be put-out’, I realised the only visible star in the sky was actually the sun, which meant she probably would be coming back before sundown.

The thought of being alone all day long was not a pleasant one. However the previous facts, and this new-found reason comforted me in my initial idea of going in the city, disguised. I rubbed my hands together at the thought…

...And so, my curiosity won over my rational side once again. Unfortunately, the former seems to win too much lately at the expense of my own security. I only had to think about the events of the last few days for the sad truth to come back up to my mind.

But I didn’t care in the least. Well, for now. I wasn’t in immediate danger, and I’d probably get a few unique experiences I wouldn’t have gotten back home. I was kind of worried about how this will turn out at de’Arnise castle, however. Had everyone freaked out at my sudden disappearance? Yes, probably. But there’s nothing I could do about it from where I stood, which is why I needed to know more about my environment first.

It is also common knowledge that half-elves often inherit, and even over-develop the curiosity of humans, and I was clearly not an exception here. And so, my very first stop as a now-unicorn being had been to go at the tavern I had spotted a few minutes ago.

Those fantasy books I had read have probably influenced my choice here.

First, I should maybe explain how I disguised myself, and what the implications are, as to not get you lost here. I used one of the illusion’s school of magic basics: a glamer.

A glamer works quite strangely, so you might need to know the following before I go on.

Basically, when you apply a glamer to something ( or someone ), you don’t change its physical shape, only how it is perceived by others. The problem with this functioning is that someone can see or perceive minor inconstancies in the illusion, like how the environment or the sounds acts unusually around the modified object.

The best way for you to understand this, is to imagine the following scene: I take a small rock from the ground, and make a glamer to make it look like a boulder. ( Which you’re not aware of ).

Now, if I tossed it your way, you’d probably see a huge rock flying right at you ( and you would probably be wetting your pants at this point ).

Let’s imagine I purposefully missed you by a few inches with the small physical rock. You’d still see the grown up boulder going right through you, but it would not physically harm you. The physical rock is still an harmless little stone.

At this point, the inconsistency begins: You didn’t get hit, but you saw the boulder go through yourself. Also, if you had paid attention, you’d probably heard the small ‘thud’ instead of an obvious crash when the rock would hit the ground.

There, two things can happen:

What most people would think would be “He probably missed me,” and choose to think they just got lucky, that the boulder didn’t actually hit them. In other terms, they still think the boulder is real, and so the illusion is maintained.

Or, you could choose to disbelieve what you just experienced, due to the fact that you didn’t get hit by the boulder when you should have taken it right to the face. You pertinently know something is wrong. This leads to the illusion being broken to the viewer who disbelieve the illusion, and so he would now see the boulder as it truly is:

A simple, small rock.

Additionally, such a revelation would probably make you break into laughter at how foolish you were to think it was real, but that’s details. A glamer uses this principle to work, but it can be tricky to the mind.

The better the glamer, the less inconsistencies you will be able to find in the environment interactions with the object or person. The most advanced ones will trick the viewers’ mind into ignoring the most obvious inconsistencies they should normally notice, and also create phantom sounds to cover up the noise side of the object. One can even infuse some of the shadow plane’s powers into his illusions to make them more real, but this however is very magic-consuming.

Of course, countering an illusion is quite easy when you already know it’s here, if only because you can disbelieve it immediately.

However, I am quite proud to say that my capacities at using illusions are good enough to at least trick most of the de’Arnise castle’s guards. For entertainment purposes at least. So I felt confident enough to go as a glamer-pony here… And this is how I ended up in a bar, full of colorful ponies.

Since colors did not seem to be restricted for this race, I decided to make the glamer a simple copy of my usual self, except… more pony. Hence, other people looking at me would see a simple male unicorn, with a metalized-beige fur tone, light grey eyes, and blonde hair and tail.

My hair, or ‘mane’ to use a better wording, was flowing long in my back. I did not make it look like a ponytail because I thought it would be redundant with the fact I would already have a literal one in my back.

Also, even though it seemed natural here, I was not really comfortable with showing myself naked, even if it was as a glamer. So I added a cape covering most of my rump, whose fabric was made of a mono-toned light yellow color to go on par with the white-yellowish robes I usually wear on my real self. The cape would also make me more credible if I was to explain I just arrived here, as a traveler.

While the overall atmosphere of the bar seemed quite nice, in this finely maintained establishment, I sadly ended up being in the company of probably the most drunken one of the crowd.

At first, I thought that the fact I could not understand her rambling was due to a language barrier, even as I had channeled my Tongues spell. But it seemed the grape-colored pony that had found a chair next to me was simply too full of whatever it is they serve here.

“Shooo… n...ewww… here…?” she asked as she struggled to keep herself straight even with the help of the chair she was sitting on. Somehow, she kept her beverage mug perfectly balanced on one of her front hooves. That is yet another thing that intrigued me, as it seemed those ponies were able to somehow keep things attached to their hooves.

Also, I wasn’t even sure if that was a question she had just asked, but it raised a perfectly good point about how I was going to present myself to other people.

I mentally began working on a background for myself.

Being now much closer to these ponies, I noticed a few more things about them. First, it seemed easy to differentiate males from their female counterparts, simply looking at how their muzzle ends: abruptly and square for the former, while it’s mostly smooth and curvy for the later.

Well, it would have been smooth and curvy for my newfound companion if her face had not just met the table when her last effort to keep herself straight was overpowered by gravity.

Tonk.

There I heard a small “Owww…” and considering alcohol’s pain inhibiting properties, I’m quite sure the one that suffered the most was the table her face had met. I let a half-smile cover my face, while I was still trying to understand what that pony had tried to accomplish when she came to discuss with me in such a state.

Suddenly I heard someone almost shout near the booth I was in, and I turned toward the source of the sound.

“Hey, Reds’! Berry Punch is down again!” Was yelled by a mint-colored unicorn. She had white stripes in her hair and tail, and she was followed by another pony, whose fur was beige, while her hair was split into three distinctives dark-blue and pink parts.

The recipient of the message, was apparently the bar keeper if her position behind the counter was anything to go by. She apparently lived up by her nickname, literally, as her fur and hair were a bright and light shade of red respectively.

As she looked our way, her expression deadpanned when her eyes met the drunk pony sit in front of me. She sighed and trotted around the bar and as she arrived she shot an apologetic look to me.

“Sorry if she caused you any trouble,” she said with a firm, but sweet voice. “Order whatever you want. Your next drink is on the house to make up for what happened.”

“Oh it is alright, she did not do as much as mumble a few sentences with no heads or tails,” I said. “But thanks for the offer.”

I wasn’t exactly sure how she could make me a heart-warming smile and all the while be doing the almost grim task of taking the passed out pony on her back and walk away.

The two other ponies I noticed before, who I shall refer to Minty and Beigy for now ( because really, my only experience with pony names had been that they have color or fur-texture related names ), took the occasion to come by the booth I was sitting in.

They stopped nearby, and Minty said, with a slightly forced smile, “Hey, sorry about Berry Punch… She kinda, likes her drinks you could say.”

I made a side look at the one she had called Reds’ who was still carrying Berry Punch toward the back-office. Funnily enough, her mug was still attached to her hoof by some kind of miracle as she was being dragged out.

“Yeah, I can sense a great love-story between the beverages and her.”

I looked back at Minty and Beigy.

“Too bad, the alcohol doesn’t seems to agree with this union.”

They both laughed and Minty’s one was heartfelt, while her companion’s was a more polite one.

“Hey do you mind if we join you? It’s rare to see new faces here,” Minty said expectantly.

I gracefully indicated the free chairs across the table with a hand, which probably appeared as a hoof for them. That’s the downside of glamers, you can’t see them yourself, you had to guess how people ‘might’ see those and hope for the best.

“Be my guests, I wouldn’t mind for a bit of chatter with somebody that can actually process thoughts and speech with a minimum of coherence, for a change.”

That sentence, for an obscure reason, earned me an odd look from both of them as they sat at the opposite end of the booth.

After a slight silence, Beigy asked, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

I found it odd that she could jump to such a conclusion, with me trying to actually merge with the crowd, and decided to enquire about what gave that away.

“Do I stand out that much?” I asked, raising a genuinely intrigued eyebrow.

However I thought it would be nice to put to use the backstory I worked on just before. It wasn’t really perfect, but it would probably lift up some suspicions they were beginning to have.

I did not let them have the time to answer just yet, and said, “But yes, I’m a traveler. I stumbled upon these lands after trekking through the nearby forest. I come from much farther away though.”

“You… Kind of have a way to speak that is clearly not from around here.” Beigy answered, and emphasized her point by doing a dismissal movement with her front hoof.

Suddenly she seemed to remember something.

“Oh, but where our manners? I am Sweetie Drops, but you may call me Bonbon,” she said.

She then turned to Minty, and added “And this is Lyra.”

And with that, Minty - or now, Lyra - smiled and noded to me, confirming Bonbon’s claims. Well, so much for my theory about their color-schemed names.

And so, it was my turn to present myself.

“I am Cynder, son of Er-” I began, but stopped dead in my speech  when I realised the second part of that presentation was mostly formal, and should probably not be used in such a context. I opted for a well placed cough instead.

“Sorry,” I said, hoping the diversion had worked.

Trying to cover that mistake, I continued as if nothing had happened, and said, “Nice to meet you both,” I said, extending a hand.

I should have probably foreseen it, but I just handed them - literally - one hell of an opportunity to break the glamer. I’ve seen a few ponies ‘shaking hooves’ as they met in the bar, so I thought it was probably natural to do the same, but now that I thought about it - a bit too late though - if I made contact with their hooves, they would probably feel the fingers around their hooves…

Hoof impacting with hand in 3…

Okay now this was awkward.

If I withdrew now, I’ll very probably look like a huge jerk.

2…

If I still offer my hand, there’s a high chance the glamer will break, due to the strange feeling they will have on their hoof. If that happens, it may freak all ponies around. My imagination even started working on an escape plan revolving around invisibility and running. Very fast running.

1…

Actually running was kind of out of the question with my current state, so all I was left with was one simple question: “What to do, what to do?!”

And on the highest peak of my panic-induced state, a genius flash shone through.

I closed my hand right before it impacted with the hoof.

Tock.

“Ouch!...”

My now-closed fist had met Lyra’s hoof, and I had to suppress an urge to cry out in pain as I had clearly not anticipated the hoof’s surface to be so hard. But in the end, it was probably for the best, and a sore fist was nothing compared to what could have happened.

I shook her hoof up and down with my fist, and found it somewhat strange that my hand would literally be attracted by the hoof, just like if there was some invisible force holding it. That probably explained how the mug had kept itself attached on Berry Punch though.

At least, Lyra did not seem to notice anything, and as we were done, I mimicked the gesture with Bonbon, but taking care to hit the hoof a bit more softly. Both of them greeted me in their own way.

Over the course of a few minutes, I learned from an enjoyable conversation with my two companions that the reason why Berry Punch had just not been kicked out of the establishment was because she was the bar keeper’s sister. That explained the reason she was sorry about her behavior, going as far as offering me a drink.

I also learned the reason she had done that was to ( quoting Lyra’s own words ) “Not to frighten a rare stallion customer.”

Repressing the strange feeling about being referred to as a ‘stallion’, which in a way made sense, but was still bizarre to me; I also did not question why the male portion would not be majoritary in such a tavern, though I was slightly taken aback by that very fact. Bars are supposed to be a man thing.

In between a few other meaningless exchanges, I learned Reds’ was a nickname for Redbud. Speaking of which, she had come by our booth to take our order. I ordered a simple beer, while Bonbon took a ‘Lemon Drop’ ( which I had no idea what it was made with, but my guess would be that there’s lemon in it ), and Lyra asked for a small cider bottle.

I did not really get how those ponies could already talk so casually to me when seconds before they were apparently suspicious about me not being ‘from around here’.

Well, I probably was not the first ‘traveler’ to come in this city I guess.

The conversation continued, and our drinks had been served. The beer tasted quite good for a bar. I had already seen a lot worse, notably in the few times I had been travelling with my family to go see acquaintances.

Some towns we went through during our trips had some really cheap beer they served, who was harsh and all around tasting bad. I’m clearly not a beer connoisseur, but I can appreciate a good pint. And as the conversation went on, they began asking more about who I was and where I was from. It was in a lighthearted type of conversation, so I was much obliged to answer.

Very much like a politician doing a speech, I spoke while using my hands to emphasis my points and giving an aspect of grandeur to my narration.

And like a true politician, I lied.

A lot.

“I found interest in travelling around the world. Seeing new peoples, new landscapes and discovering new societies seems to have been my life’s call. So I drift around, from city to town, or camping alone in the longest of my journeys simply in the hope of seeing something new.”

They were both glued to every word I spoke, and even though I had to make up most of my story on the fly, the river of words I was serving up was clear, and with no interruptions which made it a believable story.

Before they asked, I decided to bring up the ‘home’ part of my fake background if only because it would prevent awkward questions I might not be able to answer on the move later.

“My homeland, Rufena,” yes that’s Faerûn rearranged if you’re wondering, “is very far away. So far, that I have been travelling for almost a year now before ending up here. It is a prosperous and beautiful region, home of a lot of wonders, and it has its share of secrets.”

“I live in a city whose primary source of revenue is trading, and it is acting as shelter for travelers and merchants alike on their way to their destinations. The city also provides its own guards to keep the nearby roads safe.”

If they had never heard of that place or city, they did not bother to show it, most probably enthralled by my recital. Though I made sure to make the description as vague as possible to prevent them from trying to link those semi-imaginary places to real existing ones.

“Seems like a nice place,” said Lyra with a convinced tone.

“Hmhmm,” agreed Bonbon.

“So, do you like it here?” Lyra asked me. “Or is Ponyville just… another town you happen to pass through?”

I felt there was an opportunity I could use here to get some more data about where I was, and I went on with it. “Oh, actually, it is one of the few towns I would gladly come back to visit someday. The environment is charming, and the city itself is quite a sight with its well-constructed and maintained buildings. It also is kind of how I like cities: Not too much crowded, and yet livingly enough.”

I directed a smile to my audience and added, “Also, the company is quite enjoyable.”

The compliment seemed to hit home, as they both had a small fit of laughter while I took a sip of my beer. I had learned from a few diplomatic events that courtesy goes a long way, even if you audience knows it is a forced one. It sometimes open a few doors that would remain closed else.

“And so, I might need a few geographical points of references if I want to come back someday. Do you happen to know where I could get such information? Like, a map of the local area, and even a regional-scale one? It might be of use.”

Lyra and Bonbon looked at each other for an instant, eyebrows raised and mouths twisted in reflection.

The former was the first to look back at me saying “You should try to see if Twilight Sparkle got any of those. She runs the local library, but even though it isn’t related to books, she should have what you need.”

A strange sense of déjà-vu struck me when she said the name of ‘Twilight Sparkle’. It was even stranger because it mutated into a strong repulsion, and anger feeling.

Suddenly, I found myself asking the following,

“Could you give me directions to go see that ‘Twilight Sparkle’?”

The tone used felt much more like a command than a question. It was clearly not how I would have acted by myself.

What just...

I was starting to think that feeling had come from my familiar, but Bonbon reacted before I could process what had happened, and said:

“It’s easy. From here, exit to the right of the bar, and go straight until you arrive at the town hall. It’s the tallest building here so you won’t miss it. Then take the street that goes through the market. At some point you should encounter the library, easily recognisable as it is a tree building.”

Seems my tone change went unnoticed by my audience. Or they did not acknowledge any discomfort to it. Putting the matter aside, I took a few more minutes with the two ponies to finish the conversation properly. Since I had introduced myself ( in blurry details ), I asked a bit more about themselves in return and so the conversation was now centered on the mares in front of me.

This is how I now knew that the one called Lyra was a professional musician, playing oh so unexpectedly the lyre as an instrument. How she could do it with hooves, I had no idea, but I did not press on more about this detail since there were still a lot of things that I didn’t really get about this land.

Also, I am trying to not raise any suspicions about myself, so asking about things that seemed mundane for them was probably not the way to go.

Bonbon on the other side was a confectionery maker. Both of their profession seemed to correlate with the tattoo they arbored on their rumps. Now that I thought about it, most ponies I had seen so far had this kind of tattoo, depicting… something. I did not really give it as much as a second thought at first, but was it related to their profession? Very probable from what I’ve seen from Lyra and Bonbon, but it might need some more investigation to confirm this.

I couldn’t just ask why they had these tattoos since nearly all of them had one. Again, it may raise suspicions; unless it was something that was unique to this city, but I couldn’t really take any chances. Maybe I should just ask some of those who don’t have one yet if I have the chance…

…Or I might just put that on the list of things to ask Zecora about when she comes back.

After the last comments were exchanged, I bidden farewell to my interlocutors with a formal bow, before leaving the bar.

Like when I first went inside the establishment, I had to duck slightly to pass through the front door. I guess someone looking at me would wonder why I had to do so, considering they’d only see a regular pony whose size was more than small enough to pass. Glamers being what they are, I couldn’t exactly correct this behavior.

Once outside, I reminded myself about what Bonbon had indicated me, so I took to the right and went on to the town hall. Sadly I had not made a few steps that my right foot sunk into a mud puddle with a small splish sound.

I reacted with an “Urgh,” and shook the shoe a bit to get rid of most of the small muck amount that was now dripping from it.

With a defeated sigh, I went on with the rest of path to the library. At least, nobody could see that my footwear was covered in soon-to-be-dry mud, the glamer concealing that particular view with a pony-unicorn image instead.

However I still would have to clean this shoe up after returning to Zecora’s.

I passed by the first landmark, namely the town hall. Like I had seen before, it looked like something had rammed into the front double-doors, breaking them apart.

It was still being worked on, and I simply passed by.

I took to the market as advised by Bonbon, and soon the sound of chatter began to fill the air. While it had been lively from above, it seemed even more crowded from that point of view now, and I gracefully dodged my way out of most ponies, trying to avoid any kind of contact that could endanger my disguise.

As I passed by some fruit vendor, I heard a pony bargain with the merchant in a monetary unit called ‘bits’ and with a quick glance toward the stall, I could see it looked simply like gold coins with a few minor differences that I had not the time to inspect further as I continued to go by.

Well, if my gold coins had the same value here, I could probably use the ones I brought with me to get a few services, like catching a ride to someplace that is closer to my home. I could even maybe rent a few books from that library.

And so, the library I was looking for soon appeared right before me, the tree-house towering over myself quite a few times. The door was, like most buildings I had passed by, slightly smaller than myself, but that would not stop me.

I knocked three times, and waited...