Based on a True Story!

“Princess!” Applejack greeted.

Didn’t she already say that? I managed to slip my sodden boxers on, only falling headfirst into the creek once, and bowed low before I turned. “Princess,” I greeted, not getting out of my very convenient bow even after I saw Applejack rise.

The princess was a slender white mare, much taller than the other ponies, with a sun mark on her butt and an aurora for a mane. “Hello, and welcome to Equestria,” she said in a melodious voice. “My name is Celestia. Please rise and be at ease.”

The problem with that was that straightening up really wouldn’t put me at ease. After Applejack’s shape-shifting trick, “please rise” was, in fact, somewhat redundant.

Celestia looked over her shoulder as chariots landed around us, each drawn by two barded pegasi, and each with one of the other bearers in it, Twilight excepted. I turned back around and saw Twilight next to Applejack; I guess she’d arrived separately. Naturally, I was going over what I could have possibly done wrong. I’d fibbed a little here and there, sure, but in my experience that had never before required an actual military response. The very serious pegasi, very serious harnesses, and the extremely serious spears attached were helping in their own way, though, as I felt at least one embarrassing problem resolve itself pretty quickly, and I was finally able to straighten up again. “Um...” I hesitated, looking among them. “Is there a problem?”

“There is indeed a problem,” Celestia answered gravely, “but rest assured, it is not with you. Twilight, could you pass the Element of Honesty to Applejack?” I saw a necklace with an apple on it fly to Applejack and fasten itself around her neck. It had an apple on it because... Apples represent honesty? Someone needs to tell Adam and Eve.

Celestia looked grim as she looked between the bearers. “A threat to Equestria has arisen.”

“Again?” Pinkie asked, at which I saw several eyes roll.

“Uh, Princess?”

“Yes, my faithful student?”

“I think the Elements are doing something.” Twilight stopped and gasped as her crown and then her eyes glowed.

A quick glance told me the same thing was happening to the other bearers. I looked to Celestia and asked, “Doesn’t that thing with the glowing eyes hurt?” She just shrugged. I then noticed that the evening light was starting to brighten, but everything looked all kind of, well, washed out. I realized what was happening just in time to do something about it, or would have if there had indeed been anything I could have done. Which there wasn’t.

Oh no.

Imagine someone shining a flashlight directly into your eyes. Now imagine it’s inside your eyes. Yes, as it turns out, it does sting a little when your eyes do the whole glowy thing. Closing your eyes doesn’t help, either, seeing as your eyelids are on the wrong side of the problem entirely. My carefully considered solution to this was to run around in a screaming panic, but I can’t recommend this for others because another problem is that you can’t see. At all. My life being what it is, this is precisely when one of those tricky trees leapt in my way.

By the time I came to my senses, I could see again. I stumbled to my feet twice, then splashed my way back across the creek to where I’d left the bearers. When I saw them all stare at me I slowed down a bit. “What? Big, slavering monster behind me?” Yes, that was the first conclusion I leapt to. Slowly, I learn. A hurried glance behind me, though, revealed nothing.

Twilight pointed a hoof directly at me, though, and I remembered that I’d gotten to my feet... twice. I staggered back to the creek, and there was enough light left in the evening to see the terrible truth in the reflections.

“What the hell did you do to me?” I stepped back quickly, trying to retreat from the black-coated, red-maned image before me. “I’m a pony!” I paused a few frantic seconds to take stock. I’d been changed into a fantastic creature, apparently by accident, by beings who had all gone out of their way to help a complete stranger, all in a world I was profoundly ignorant of. As a modern, civilized human being and a man of the world, my instincts told me precisely how to handle this.

“I’m going to sue!”

“Calm down, please,” Celestia urged me.

“No! This is not a time for calm! There are times for calm and times for, um, not calm, and this is one of the not-calm times!” I looked into the reflection more carefully, and saw muscles that I wasn’t used to having. Admittedly for me, that’d be any muscles at all, but these were ridiculous. “It’s worse than I thought! I look like Mr. Ed as drawn by Rob Liefeld!”

“And you’re an alicorn,” Rarity breathed.

“No,” Twilight corrected. “There’s a little horn under the big one, pointing off at an angle. He’s a, well, a bicorn.”

Pinkie was suddenly before me, squeezing my nose. “Um, I don’t think so, Twilight.”

Twilight didn’t even blink. “A bicorn, Pinkie, not a bike horn.” At my look, she shrugged. “You get used to her.”

My mind had at long last found an answer. “Panic!” They looked at me curiously. “That’s the not-calm word I was looking for.” Not a very useful answer, but, technically, an answer -- and under the circumstances, I was going to count myself ahead of the game.

“Not just that,” Celestia said, pointing at the necklace I wore. “This is the long-prophesied emergence of the bearer of the seventh Element of Harmony.”

The bearers -- the other bearers, damn it -- looked at each other delightedly as they each made a guess.

“Curiosity?”

“Courage?”

“Resiliency?”

“Beauty?”

“Awesomeness?”

“Pizza?”

“None of these, my little ponies,” Celestia explained. “Drath here represents the Element of... Nitrogen!”

A sea of blank expressions met her.

“It’s an essential element. Without nitrogen, there are no amino acids, and therefore no proteins. Without proteins, there is no life and, therefore, no harmony.” She looked out, smiling, only to find that the vast incomprehension hadn’t gotten any less vast-y. Somewhere, an obligatory cricket chirped. She closed her eyes and shook her head quickly, before letting out an almost inaudible sigh. “Nitrogen represents the... cycle of interdependency among all living things, drawing us together in one dynamic, harmonious whole.”

Comprehension dawned among her subjects; apparently there was a right way and a wrong way to explain things in this world.

“What about his cutie mark?” Pinkie asked. I looked back, and saw a “2” upon my flank.

“What was your purpose in life?” Celestia asked me quietly.

I thought hard about that. Aside from junk food and video games it had to be... “I was the number two in charge of Garry’s Diner.”

Celestia beamed at me. “That would explain it. Your name, had you been born here, would have been ‘Garry’s Two.’”

I was amazed, astonished, and astounded; that was the absolutely stupidest name I’d ever heard. “Please,” I asked earnestly, “Just call me Drath.”

“How do you feel?” Twilight asked with a voice full of concern, apparently now realizing what a shock this had to be for me.

“Oddly enough, the ‘cutie mark’ fits. I feel like number two,” I admitted. For one, I finally realized all this had to be real. I didn’t care how crazy I was, nobody could have been insane enough to come up with all of this. “I’d like to be changed back into a human now, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Rarity agreed. I smiled at her, glad for the support from someone I’d first thought rather shallow. It just goes to show, you can’t judge a book by its cover. “I spent all night on that clothing,” she continued, “and not a stitch of it will fit now. This simply cannot be!”

I only realized I was staring at her when I felt my eyeballs start to dry out. “Thanks, Rarity.” I looked from Celestia to Twilight, and their expressions weren’t encouraging. “Oh, come on! Just, I don’t know, reverse the polarity on the Elements or something!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” Celestia explained with a patience that only seemed infuriating to me at the moment. “The Elements changed you for a reason, and I think you’ll have to help resolve this crisis before they will change you back.”

“All right. I’ll do anything.”

Celestia smiled grandly. “I knew I could count on you. Indeed, as soon as I saw you I knew that danger would be no obstacle.”

Uh oh. “Danger?”

“Grave danger. You and the other bearers will face many obstacles, any of which might result in a horrible, agonizing demise.”

“Agonizing?”

“Even the preliminary struggles will be desperate, and if any of you should make through alive...”

“Any?”

“...even then, only by winning through despite the incredible odds...”

“Incredible?”

“...will you both safeguard the future of Equestria, and, doing so, find your way back home.”

This, I felt, deserved thoughtful consideration. “You know, I may have reacted too quickly back there. I mean, being a pony can’t be all that bad, right? It seems to be quite the fashion around here.”

“The Elements have changed you and made you a bearer,” Celestia said softly. “This could only mean that you are essential for the success of this operation, the failure of which would mean the end of Equestria, and indeed, the world.”

The end of the world. Specifically, the world I was standing on. That made it pretty important.

“Fine,” I heroically grumped. “But if I get killed, I’ll never forgive any of you.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Rainbow Dash asked, “What exactly is the problem we need to take care of?”

Celestia paused,as if deeply troubled. “My sister has once again succumbed to the demon, Nightmare Moon.”

“Surely not,” Twilight cried. “We taught her the true meaning of friendship! She stood guard over Canterlot before my brother’s wedding! She celebrated Nightmare Night with us, and last year even won the prize for best costume!”

Celestia hesitated. “Well, she’s back to wearing her dark armor, has sent away all but her closest night guards, and has announced that one week hence, night will fall once more, and never end. She’s either Nightmare Moon again, or else she’s just gotten very, very emo. Either way, something must be done.”

Twilight stepped forward, not even bothering to check with the other bearers. “You can count on us, Princess!”

Great. Just great.

==========

In the library the next day, all my attention was on a cup of water.

“Feel yourself being where the cup is,” Twilight said in a low tone. “You’re not just in the chair. You’re at the cup, around the cup, and under the cup.” She looked appraisingly at the red aura around my horn. “Good. Good. Now lift the cup gently, careful not to spill any of the water...”

The cup exploded, splashing water everywhere. Twilight sighed, and put another cup in place. “That’s not bad for a first try,” she said.

“But that was my third,” I said, a little grumpily.

“All ponies are used to having magic of some sort, Drath. This is going to be newer for you, and it’s not surprising that it might take a little longer.”

“We’ve got, what, five days before we need to set out?”

“You have something else to do today?” she asked sweetly.

I glared, but my heart wasn’t in it. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Twilight. So far this magic seems pretty dangerous for an untrained pony.”

She smiled encouragingly, “You’ll do fine, Drath. Given your incredible intelligence, you’ll have this figured out in no time.”

Given that my “incredible intelligence” was Twilight’s wishful thinking, that didn’t help much. My horns started to glow again, and as I focused on the cup she continued. “And it’s not dangerous as long as you don’t, for example, direct it at a pony. Just make sure not to think of me or somepony else while...”

“No!” Did you ever try not to think of something? “Why did you say that?”

Twilight backed up frantically. “No, Drath! Don’t think of me! Don’t!”

“Stop saying that!”

“But don’t!”

“I can’t tell you how much that’s not helping! Twilight, just shut up! Don’t say any...” I groaned as I felt the magic start to discharge despite my best attempts to hold it back. It felt... oddly familiar, and on a desperate leap I even tried thinking about baseball. This worked just as well as it normally did. No, that’s not a good thing. I turned my head away in horror, but averting my gaze did nothing to block out the sharp explosion that assaulted my ears, or the ominous silence that followed.

I turned back slowly, dreading the gory site no doubt in front of me. When I opened an eye cautiously, though, Twilight was standing on her hind legs and wedged into the farthest end in the room, chest heaving and eyes wide, as she stared at the remains of the fourth cup.

She looked back at me, still panting. “And that concludes our lesson for the day.”

==========

“Apple buckin’ ain’t that hard, hon,” Applejack assured me. “Ain’t nothin’ more natural.” And here in the orchard, with breezes smelling of fruit, it seemed she must be right.

“Well, I have to admit that it’s probably safer than spellcasting or flight.”

She looked at me curiously. “Which one gave you the black eye?”

“Flight.”

“How’s it goin’?”

I sighed, gustily. “I can hover a few inches for a couple minutes, now. When I try to actually direct, myself, though... Well, let’s just say I’m starting to think the trees in this world have it in for me.”

“The... trees.” She looked at me doubtfully. “How many times did you hit your head?”

“It’s just a suspicion,” I assured her.

“Well, don’t mind it none. I’ve got the friendliest trees I know of. Ready to give ‘er a try?”

“All right.”

“OK, line up a little better. Turn a little to the left. Half a step back. Perfect! Now kick for all you’re worth!”

I let fly with both hind legs. It felt... good, actually, as if I were operating on instinct, and letting this body do what it wanted to do, how it wanted to do it.

My hooves connected with a satisfying thunk, and I could feel the apples shake loose. The small success kindled a long-dampened spark of optimism. I’d actually, genuinely succeeded at doing something in this crazy world. Maybe my luck really is changing for the better.

==========

“Nurse?” I prodded. When I got her attention, and immediately afterward her concern, I asked, “Could I get some aspirin?”

When she looked at me, her expression quickly shifted from bored to dismayed. “Sir, you need more than aspirin. We need to get you into surgery right away.”

I was dumbfounded and alarmed, but fortunately Applejack was a step ahead of me. “Nah, his head’s supposed to look like that. Except for the bumps.”

The nurse looked at her doubtfully. “Even the way that lower horn points off to the side a little?”

“Just some aspirin, please,” I interrupted.

“Are you sure? I’ve never seen anything that weird before, not on anypony.”

“It’s all right, honest.”

“Just looking at it makes me feel like I’ve gone all cross-eyed,” she complained.

“Aspirin,” I grated out, a little more loudly than I’d intended. “Please.”

The nurse nodded, and bustled away uncertainly.

“You know,” Applejack said, “She might actually be able to get that fixed...”

“AJ, please.”

“AJ? Drath?” I turned to see Twilight and Spike. The former eyed me and frowned. Actually, so did the latter, but he always did that. “What happened to your head?”

“What you see before you is the cumulative effect of flight practice and apple bucking,” I informed her tiredly.

Twilight looked from me to Applejack. “AJ, you explained to him that you use your hooves for applebucking, right?”

“I did,” she asserted. “And he did fine, too. The bumps on his noggin are from errant apples.”

“One hit him on the head?”

“All of them did.” Applejack shook her head in wonder. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it before.”

“He’s just lucky it was his head,” Spike said sourly. “Imagine if they’d hit something important.”

“Spike! I keep telling you that he’s smarter than he looks! And he should have the respect historically due an alicorn.”

“Really? Just because of the wings and horns?” It didn’t seem quite right, but I could live with that. I mean, after all the soul-searching and other deep stuff, of course. “Does it come with a title?”

Twilight averred, “Actually, I’m not quite sure I would...”

“I insist. Spike, if I’ve got a title, I insist you use it.”

“If you insist... Princess,” he said with an evil little smirk on the evil little lips on his evil little face. Not that I’m bitter.

My hoof once again developed an irresistible attraction to my face. “Your rulers are all mares?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, as if stating that day was brighter than night. “Though if it helps, sometimes I hardly even think of you as being male.”

It didn’t help. “What kind of system is this?”

Twilight thought about that for a while. “A mare-itocracy.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that, I guess.”

The farm pony, confused by some reason, changed the subject. “What brings you here, Twi?”

“Stocking up on first aid supplies for our trip to the Castle of the Two Sisters.” She turned to me. “I don’t know how our medical science compares to the marvels I imagine yours has, but I’d appreciate any advice.”

“Make sure to bring plenty of aspirin.”

==========

By nightfall, my headache had eased to a nuisance, despite everything that had either hit my head or been hit by my head that day. Evidently this body’s skull was just as thick as the one I was used to. Applejack, Big Mac, and I were sitting in their living room, watching the fireplace; apparently that qualifies as entertainment here.

“AJ? Is something wrong with Apple Bloom? She hardly touched her meal.” Granny Smith’s cooking was the one magic I’d found that hadn’t backfired on me. In any sense of “backfire,” thank you.

“She’s just worried, is all,” Applejack answered me sadly.

“Eeyup.”

“This would be the whole, oh, going into the teeth of danger, incredibly bad odds, horrible death awaiting us thing?”

This at last got a rise out of Big Mac. His nostrils flared, and he looked at his sister with concern that even I found touching. “Eeyup.” It got a rise out of him, not a lot of syllables.

“We’ll be fine,” Applejack assured her brother. “We’ve got Drath here to take care of us.”

Wait. They’re depending on me? I’m the ace in the hole? I’m the secret weapon? Either they need a glass of water blown up real good, or we’re in even more trouble than I thought. “Applejack, suppose -- just suppose -- that I’m not a super-intelligent being with incredible magic at my disposal? And that I can’t get out of a three-inch hover without planting my head into something.”

She thought about this for a while. “I reckon we’d be in a mite of trouble, then.”

OK, now keeping a secret from Twilight and the others went beyond just my ego. In a clutch, her unwarranted expectations of me -- which basically translated to any expectations of me -- could get her killed. Or one of the others. This was starting to get serious.

Wait, one of “the others” is me. It had officially reached serious. I could come clean. I mean, what little ego I had left versus horrible, agonizing death? That was an easy sacrifice. And then all I had to do was... explain to Twilight how I knew about changelings, when all I’d met was Fluttershy. I couldn’t do it. Shockingly, I couldn’t even do it to save my own skin. The power of cuteness compelled me.

“So,” I began, “The plan is that five, well, closer to four, days from now, we set out and meet Nightmare Moon and whatever defenses she’s established? Kill her and the day is saved?”

Applejack looked at me with outrage. “Ain’t nopony said nothin’ about no killin’!”

“Eenope,” said Big Mac passionately.

“Wait, that’s... four negatives? So we are killing...”

“No we ain’t!” She calmed down a bit, lowering her voice so as not to wake up anyone. “We’re going to bring her back to her old sweet-natured self. Hopefully the days spent while getting you up to speed are worth giving her the time to set up her defenses.” She looked at the door, sadly. “My only regret is the weight, day by day, on poor Apple Bloom.”

“Let’s go tomorrow.” Not easy to say, but it really did give me the best chance of keeping my skin wrapped around all my other stuff, and that was where I was used to having it. By the time I got half-decent at magic or flying, Nightmare Moon would probably have had enough time to build her own Death Star. Best to go after her now, giving her less time than she expected.

“All for Apple Bloom? Drath, your good heart does you a heap of credit.”

Well, I have to admit it’s doing a better job with decisions than my brain is. Big deal -- my pancreas could do a better job than my brain.

==========

I didn’t sleep well. One of the reasons was none of the beds at Sweet Apple Acres was alicorn-sized. The other reason was that I wasn’t alone. I don’t mean that in a good way.

In the darkness, I could feel a presence. I couldn’t see anything, but I there was a malignant presence that I somehow knew was teasing me, mocking me, and keeping just out of sight.

“Pretender.” The voice was feminine, cool, and utterly terrifying.

Pretender? Well, I can’t argue with that. Instead, I used my best debating tactics from school. “So?” Hey, kindergarten is a school.

“You’ll get them all killed. They’ve been nice to you, so very nice... And they will all die. Because of you.”

“Wait a second... This is a dream, right?”

“Yes. And no.” A dark mare appeared to me, her eyes bright with malice. “This is a nightmare.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and my voice shook despite my best efforts. “Nightmare Moon, I presume? You’re fooling yourself if you think this will have any effect.” Meaning, I’m really scared and you can stop now.

“I know you’re scared. And it’s delicious.” She then grinned at me, in the least pleasant way imaginable. “You, however, are changing the subject.”

I was, because she was right. “So you can read my thoughts in my dreams. I have an answer to that. It’s called ‘waking up.’”

“Fine. You can do that. I won’t stop you. But you can’t answer my question, and you can’t stop asking it of yourself. How will you live with yourself, after they’re all dead?”

“I won’t have to,” I responded reasonably. “Without them I’d last like five seconds, right?” Yeah... I really suck at pep talks.

Despite this impressive logic, she laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And, eventually, mercifully, I woke up.

==========

“So,” said Twilight as she finished packing. “We’re leaving ahead of schedule? You do realize this throws off like twelve different checklists?”

“Some sacrifices have to be made,” I intoned, trying to sound wise beyond my wisdom.

She looked around. “Well, it looks like everypony’s here but Rainbow Dash. I knew she’d be the hardest to get out of bed early in the morning.” There was a loud thud from upstairs and the entire tree shook. “Sounds like she’s here now, though,” Twilight said happily. “Fluttershy, would you be so kind as to bring her in?”

“I’d be happy to,” she said sweetly. Which was the only way I’d ever heard her say anything. Damn it. In some ways, the world would be so much easier to deal with if it weren’t for how confounded nice they are.

“We’ve all remembered water, right?” Twilight asked. “And food -- low residue is best.”

Pinkie raised a hoof. “Low residue?”

Twilight stared at her half a second, obviously searching for the right words. “Pinkie, you know how after you eat, something else happens?”

Pinkie nodded. “I know exactly what you mean, Twilight.”

“That’s a relief,” Twilight said happily.

“I feel less hungry!”

The alicorn sighed in resignation. “Just let me check your bags before we go.”

Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash entered, and the bit of a limp Rainbow Dash had left me wondering if I was really learning flight from the right teacher. I crash into things more than she does, though. Does that mean the student is now the master? I briefly visualized myself giving Rainbow Dash lessons on the proper techniques for running into a tree face-first, before I decided I should listen to Twilight just in case the genius with actual experience in these matters had something useful to say.

“Spike will be taking care of our pets while we’re gone. Right, Spike?”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “We’re leaving the fire-breathing dragon behind?”

I saw a new look of suspicion on Spike’s face, instead of the gratitude I’d expected. Yes, the old look was suspicion too, but this was a different suspicion. I’m so used to having varying notes of this in people around me that I’ve become a virtual connoisseur in degrees of distrust.

“He is just a baby dragon after all,” Twilight said, and that apparently closed the subject.

“Don’t worry about Gummy, Spike, I’m bringing him along,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly.

“Gummy?” I asked the closest pony.

“Her pet alligator,” Applejack replied.

“Hey, big scary alligator? I am so...”

Pinkie held Gummy up in her hooves and nuzzled the baby alligator before announcing, “He’s always wanted to go on an adventure!”

“Pinkie,” Twilight grated out.

“Aw, come on!” Pinkie showed Twilight her big, cute eyes, and Twilight rolled her own.

“Fine.”

I cannot tell you how much this built up my confidence in our odds of success. “Well, I guess he could take off somebody’s toe. If anyone here had toes.”

“He’s toothless,” Rarity told me, then looked at me a little harder. “Darling, are you feeling well?”

“I’m just hoping Twilight took my advice about our medical supplies.”

==========

All our own saddlebags packed (Rarity had done a really nice job with mine, complete with the red-on-black “2” emblem) full, we set out, with Spike’s “Good luck, Princess!” trailing after me. Adventure lying before us, and any hope of safety lying behind.

I missed safety.

==========

What horrendous monstrosities will our heroes encounter in their valiant fight to save the world? Will they succeed? Do they get hazard pay for any of this? Will the OC be faster than Rainbow Dash? Will he out-magic Twilight? Actually, those are all really good questions. Now I wish I’d thought of them ahead of time. Find out if I thought of answers, too, in the next plausibly-exciting chapter of Based on a True Story!