Harmonic Substitution

Austin dreamt that he was flying.  An orchard spread out as far as his eyes could see them.  The trees seemed oddly comforting, as if he had been here many times before.  Which was strange, since Austin didn’t go outside of the city if he could help it.  Being out here would have been strange had he not been flying.

He pulled his wings against his side, allowing gravity to pull him towards the ground.  His flying skill startled him, he wouldn’t have thought that using wings would be a skill that he mastered.  At the last second, he unfurled his wings and flapped furiously, relishing the sudden gust of wind ruffling his feathers.  He felt satisfied.  No one could bother him there, especially not those lawyers from Gayme Tek.  Fuck those guys.  He could practice in peace.

Practice?Austin didn’t know what he was practicing for or why, but a voice in his head urged him to do it.  Do it for glory.  Do it for your chance to shine.  He didn’t want to go against the voice’s will, as that would probably end the dream, and he was having quite a bit of fun.

He fell into yet another dive, repeating the same maneuver he did only a few moments ago.  He was really enjoying the feeling of the wind.  Flying back up into the sky, he was amused to note that the field below him looked little more than a salad plate, filled with various shades of green like it was.

 He loop-de-looped, revelling in his newfound skill.  The same voice that spoke to him earlier told him that not many people could pull off the maneuvers he was performing, even though it came to him almost like second nature.  You are special, it said, You are awesome.

Austin came to a realization that he was building up to something with his maneuvers.  His wings were yearning for something, his brow was slick with sweat and furrowed with determination.  He didn’t know what his body was planning, so his conscious mind decided to take a back seat and hand the reins over to instinct.

With a few strong wing beats, he found himself even higher.  Austin slowed to a stop, and looked down.  The orchard was almost out of sight. The voice was almost screaming at him, Do it now!  Do it now!

Austin swallowed his trepidation, and began a dive towards the ground.  He didn’t open his wings that time.  He had an entirely different plan.  The wind was screaming in his ears, and the air was desperately trying to hold him back.  Small scraps of color played around his vision.  Time slowed to a stop as he felt himself stretched out like a rubber band, and…

“Doctor, how is the patient?”

Wait, what?

        “Her wounds are almost healed.  She should be able to fly very soon.  However, we had to give her quite a bit of medication to keep her from acting up overnight.  She probably feels slightly disoriented.”

        The dream shattered around Austin, the fragments scattered across the infinite of the cosmos.  Instead of flying freely through the sky, he found himself smothered and sweating under a heavy blanket.  He briefly considered trying to chase the receding dreams, but the details were already blurring and fading in his mind.  He stirred, and tried to check his surroundings.  However, his vision was blurred, so he could only make out colorful blurred dots scattered around his vision.  They must be the medical staff.

It all came back to him.  The rainy day, the bungee jumping, all of it.  He especially remembered the abomination that cut his bungee cord.  Even though he viewed it for only a brief moment, he couldn’t shake off the memory.  An evil, calculating glare when it tried to figure out which fiber would make him fall faster if he were to cut it.  A malevolent grin as its rusty hedge clippers found their mark.  A cold, mirthless laugh as Austin fell to the ground.

        It then occurred to Austin that his bungee jumping spectacle wasn’t exactly hidden.  He did jump off of a building in the downtown, after all.  Maybe someone saw the beast, and could point him in the right direction so he could take his revenge.  Yes, that must be it, he mused, I’ll just ask these doctors about it.

        “Mrmph Frrrmph.”

        Much to Austin’s dismay, his ability to use words seemed to have fled him.  Why was that?  His mind went back to what the doctor said about him  while he was stirring.  She needed to be medicated overnight.  Austin wasn’t a she.

Well, as far as he knew.

        “Ah, she’s awake.”

There was that she again.Austin didn’t know why the doctors referred to him as a she, he would have assumed doctors would have methods of checking that.  Maybe he was sharing a room with someone?   He decided he would ask them for clarification.

        “Krrmph Blrmph Frrrgh?”

        “Alright, she definitely is.  Nurse, hand me the syringe.  We need to administer the painkiller for her wing.”

        Austin stopped breathing.  Syringe?  As in, with needles?  Needles?He opened his eyes a bit further, and his eyes immediate focused on the large, pointy needle attached to the end of the syringe.  Nothing else mattered.

        Austin shook.  He was not going to let the needle pierce him.

        In one swift movement, Austin threw off of the heavy hospital blanket and bowled over the doctor.  After doing so, he struck a pose on top of him.

Or rather, that was what Austin would have liked to have happened.  Instead, he tangled himself up in the blanket, and rolled over the doctor. Satisfied by the non-moving lump under his discarded blanket, Austin attempted to stand up, but promptly fell on all fours.  Weird.  Austin tried again, only to land on all fours again.  The medication must have been more severe than he thought.

Come to think of it, Austin didn’t feel right at all.  He couldn’t feel his fingers.  He had a dull ache near his shoulderblades.  Looking down, Austin noted that his skin color looked really off from his medication-addled perspective.  Instead of any normal skin color, his skin seemed to be some kind of sky blue color.  He needed to get off of these drugs, and fast.

In his stupor, Austin failed to notice the nurse on the other side of the room until a slam forced his attention to door on the other side of the room.  The nurse was already gone.

Austin wobbled over to his bed, and tried headbutting the cot against the door with his head, since he was feeling uncomfortable with any form of bipedal movement.  He was startled with how well he could handle himself on all four limbs.  He never remembered any aptitude for it before.

His confusion was cut short yet again when an ear-piercing alarm shrieked nearby.  It was doubtlessly the escaped nurse.  He had to put aside his bodily confusion for now, a much more pressing problem had presented itself. The doctor under the blanket wiggled around a bit.  Austin stomped on him. It was better to think in silence. Of course, the alarm didn't help anything at all. Combine that with the medication, and even walking in a straight line could prove impossible.

He eyed a blur on the opposite side of the room that looked an awful lot like a window. Hopefully it was, or the next phase of his plan would land him back in his hospital bed. Maybe I should stand for this. Yet again, Austin tried to stand on two feet, and yet again he fell. He whinnied in frustration.

Whinnying? I must be really delusional. I need to get out of here. He searched around the room for something to use to pry open what he hoped was a window, but he found nothing besides the cot, some medical equipment, and a certain non-responsive lump under the blanket. He would use the medical equipment, but it all looked expensive and really dangerous to handle. In addition, some of the items had needles laid out on them, and there wasn't a way in hell that he would touch those needles.

He heard a few subdued clicks coming from the door. They're trying to sneak in, eh? Well, they won't get anywhere with that cot against the do- The door started to swing open.

It was then that Austin realized that the door opened the other way.

Catching his breath, he turned to face the window. There was no other choice.  He pawed the ground. He heard footsteps behind him. The nurses had broken in. It was strange that they weren't trying anything on him.

“Rainbow Dash? What are you doing? Get back in your cot. You're hurt.” A voice from behind him spoke up, no doubt trying to dissuade him from his plan of action by confusing him. I will not be confused!

He uttered his battle cry, and surged towards the window. The nurses tried to keep up with him, but he was too quick. Austin felt a shudder behind his shoulder blades, only to see that he was shooting across the room two feet off of the ground. What is going on today?

*CRASH*

An explosion of pain and a shower of drywall and masonry told Austin that the blur he thought was a window wasn't really a window. He gritted his teeth at the shards of masonry and splinters of wood now peppering his body. Oh well, a few extra battle scars wouldn't be too bad. I can say I got them from a fight with a bear. A really big, really mean bear. Made of bricks and drywall.

Austin blinked a few times, and realized his vision had cleared up considerably. He looked down, but immediately wished he hadn't. Somehow he had ended up suspended fifty feet above the ground. He craned his head around, and looked around to his back.

...

Wings.  Huh.

…

OH GOD NO

The newly noticed wings locked up, probably because of the attention they were receiving.  He tried throwing them open, haphazardly trying to recall the stunts he pulled while dreaming. He flailed wildly in an attempt to slow down his descent, but he ended up getting covered in leaves.

He hit the ground with a wet schlump and a scream of pain. Muscles he didn't even know he owned ached and throbbed.  Remembering things you dreamed was really hard in high pressure situations.

Well, duh. He tried getting up, but the pain was too much to bear, and he collapsed back onto the ever-so-welcoming ground. Austin had a sinking feeling that he would be well acquainted with it in the next few hours.  He sure as hell wouldn’t try flying again anytime soon.

He caught sight of a puddle a few feet away, and dragged himself over to it to get a drink of water. The water, though dirty, did a lot to moisten his mouth and calm him down. Satisfied, he opened his eyes and gazed upon his reflection.

His panic surged back to its previous levels.

Though it was battered, bruised, bleeding, bandaged, and covered in tree sap, there was something unmistakable about this face.

Suddenly, hospital breakouts and needles seemed to be the least of his problems. Currently, it seemed to be the rainbow maned, bright blue winged horse staring him back in his reflection.

***

        “WHAT THE FUCK?”

        Patrick was angry.  No, he wasn’t angry.  He was livid.How could any single word describe the way he was feeling?  He was puppy-stranglingly, baby-kickingly upset.  If there was a curse that encompassed all of the feelings that he was feeling at that current moment, the word would have been outlawed across civilization, and execution likely for anyone who even dared think it.

        Why did he not trust his instincts? Why did he try to use magic?  And why did he trust someone in a trench coat?  That had to have been one of the tenets of modern society.  If he has a trench coat on, don’t fucking trust him.  Simple rule, really.  But what did I do?  I fucking trusted him.

It wasn’t really himself he blamed, though.  Could he be blamed for attempting to pursue knowledge that no man had ever dared pursue before?  Probably, but the real criminal here is Dinsmore.

Dinsmore.  The very mentioning of his name sent  a fresh shot of rage through his system.  If I ever get my hedge clippers back, Patrick vowed, I will change his gender, and give him a heaping helping of Tetanus as a bonus.  What Dinsmore had done to him was unforgivable.

        For what Patrick saw in the reflection of a pail was the horse equivalent of Taylor Swift.

        He didn’t know how to explain it, he couldn’t explain it.  He was some kind of horse.  It sure as hell wasn’t a normal horse.  He had huge eyes and orange fur, for fuck’s sake.  What kind of a normal horse had orange fur?  He had a little Stetson hat on, too.  He was the dream gift for every five year old spoiled brat that happened to live under the Missouri Compromise Line.

        He rubbed his back legs together in anxiety, but stopped immediately.  No.He rubbed his legs together a bit more.  No, this can’t be happening.  He looked down between his legs.  They're gone.  He frantically looked around the room, looking in vain for his genitals.  They were nowhere to be found.

        Dinsmore had beaten him to the punch.

        He bowed his head, shaking with grief.  He was going to miss them.

        After a suitable period of mourning, he could build a hypothesis on where he was and why he was a horse.  There had to be some scientific explanation for it.  Nothing happens by magic.

        Just then, Patrick felt an all-too familiar tingle in his bones.  It felt almost as if years of his lifespan were being drawn out of him and dispersed into the world.  He felt the power of the atom.

        He felt radiation.

        His troubles forgotten, Patrick began rifling around the rubbish in the barn, using the ache in his bones to play a sort of marco polo with it.  If he got cancer, he was getting closer.

        Eventually, Patrick found the source of the radiation.  A barrel of weirdly multicolored apples lay behind some farming utensils.  Patrick smiled.  Jackpot.  Laughing maniacally, he set to work.

***

        Golden Oaks Library had always stood apart from the other buildings.  Of course, a building made from a giant hollowed tree has a habit of standing out.  Situated in the middle of Ponyville, it was considered a botanical marvel that a tree could survive having even a room carved into it, let alone a fully stocked library.  That wasn’t really what made it odd to most ponies in town, though.  It had a reputation around town for being a magnet for strange occurrences.  One of the reasons for that could be plainly seen if one were to look into one of the library’s windows and observe the situation unfolding within.

        “Alright Spike, if you’d set down those books over there, we can begin the field test!”  An enthusiastic purple alicorn paraded into the library foyer, trailed closely by a very upset baby dragon.

  “Just place them on my desk, we’ll deal with them very soon, don’t worry.”  Spike sighed, and staggered over to the desk with a pile of books that dragons his age really shouldn’t be carrying.  He gingerly placed the books on the table, and immediately scrambled away from it.  After he was satisfied that the books wouldn’t fall, he turned to Twilight.

        “Twilight, can’t this wait ‘till later?  I got this letter, like, a week ago.  It looks really important.”  Spike made to take a scroll out of his pocket, but Twilight brushed him off.

        “Spike.  I know it’s urgent, but I have been working on this spell since my coronation.  If I don’t show results, what if the princesses become disappointed in me?  What if they take away my wings?  Can they even do that?”  Spike rolled his eyes as Twilight slid into another one of her self doubtings.  He would have thought becoming one of the most powerful species in existence would have alleviated a few of those doubts.

        “Twilight, it’s only been a week since the coronation.  Relax.  I don’t think the princesses expect you to do this much so soon.”  Spike frowned.  “What is this spell supposed to do, anyway?”

        “Ah, I thought you’d never ask!”  Twilight’s mood backpedaled.  One moment she was lying on the floor dejected, the next she was buzzing happily around the room, picking seemingly random books off of the shelves and placing them in the center of the room.  Spike was suddenly aware of the gravity of the mistake he just committed.

        “Now, you’ve probably seen my attention to neatness.”  Spike scoffed, but Twilight either didn’t hear him or elected to ignore him.  “Now, being neat takes up a lot of time.  Usually, I would be okay with that.  Who wouldn’t be okay with spending most of the day organizing books?  However, the time I’m spending organizing books is severely cutting into my time making checklists.  That isn’t okay, Spike.  Instead, I have opted to create a spell to free up some of my spare time.”

        By now, Twilight had made her way to the center of the room, and had unfurled her wings to make her spellcasting more interesting.  Spike clearly wasn’t impressed, as he had taken to undoing the binding of a rather old looking tome to extract the jewels from the cover.

        “Now, with the addition of new magic reserves given to me by the alicornization, spells like this are now possible.  Now, books, prepare to meet your fate at the hands of the Poney Decimal System!”  Fierce battle cry in place, Twilight channeled her magic into her horn, bringing it to a nearly bright white glow.  An opaque purple sphere covered the stack of books, shielding it from view.

Thunder was heard outside, and Spike rushed to the window to see a dark, rolling vortex of clouds forming above the library.  He silently crossed himself and hoped Twilight knew the extent of her powers.  This could very well end badly.

        By now the room was shaking, and Twilight was showing signs of overexertion, even though the spell had only just begun.  Spike hung onto a table leg for dear life, and watched helplessly as books fell from their shelves, sprawling all over the floor and creating a mess almost unheard of in the library.

        But, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped.  The mini-hurricane surrounding the tree subsided, and Twilight collapsed onto the ground.  The sphere lasted a little longer, but it too disappeared, leaving a neat pile of books amid the ankle deep ocean of fallen literature.

        “Did… did it work?”  Twilight barely managed to stand up.  She wobbled over to the books, which Spike had been eagerly inspecting.  Spike nodded.

        “Yup, it worked great!  All of the books are in alphabetical ord-  Twilight, why are your eyes like that?”

        “Al-Alphabetical?”  Twilight’s eye twitched.  Spike immediately scrambled backwards to the far side of the library.  He knew the signs.

        “U-Uh, yeah, alphabetical order.  Are you ok, Twilight?”  Spike only asked the question out of habit, anyone that was “ok” definitely wouldn’t be convulsing like Twilight was.

        “NO!”  The force of Twilight’s yell probably would have caught the attention of the neighbors had they not been used to her shenanigans.

“I am definitelynot okay, Spike!  Do you see these books, Spike?  These terrible, alphabetically organized books?”  Spike was afraid to answer.

        “Isn’t that what you wanted?”  Spike had gradually made his way over to Twilight and attempted to comfort her.  “A way to easily organize books?”  Twilight smacked away his hand with her hoof.

        “I wanted them organized, Spike.  Alphabetically doesn’t cut it in a library!  What if I wanted to look up a book about Starswirl?  It could be titled, ‘The Amazing Adventures of Starswirl’, or ‘101 Facts about Starswirl the Bearded’s Beard’, or even ‘Chronicles of Starswirl’!  How would I find all of those, Spike?”  Twilight towered over Spike, her wings spread out in a hostile pose.  He was thoroughly spooked.

        “We don’t use the alphabetical system in a library.  We use the Poney Decimal System.  Much more efficient.”  Twilight relaxed her wings, and slumped into a sitting pose.  Spike took this opportunity to hesitantly lay a hand on her shoulder.

        “Don’t worry, Twilight.  You’ll get the hang of it eventually, you always do.”  Twilight lifted her head a bit and gave Spike a grateful glance.

        “Thank you Spike, I needed that.  Now, what was that letter you wanted to show me?”

Relieved at the opportunity to finally deliver his mail, Spike procured the document and presented it to Twilight.  “Here you go!  It has to be interesting, it has the Royal Seal!”

        “THE ROYAL WHAT!?”  Twilight immediately shot back up and snatched the scroll from Spike’s outstretched palms.  “The Royal Seal?  That means it from one of the princesses!  Spike, why didn’t you hand this to me earlier!?”

        Spike rolled his eyes.  “You were kind of preoccupied…”  However, Twilight paid him no mind as she read out the letter.

        “Dear Princess Twilight,

I suppose I should call you Princess instead of Faithful Student now.  The superb way you’ve handled yourself in every situation I’ve handed to you is remarkable.  I chose well when I made you my student all those years ago.”

Twilight blushed a little and continued reading:

“But I digress.  More important matters require attending to.  I am more than certain you remember Discord, our friendly god of chaos.  Unfortunately, he is no longer as friendly.  We are under the assumption that he has made a full reversion back to his chaotic state.  As it can plainly be assumed, that is unacceptable.  I beseech you, please keep a wide eye open to watch for anything that looks chaotic in nature and intent.

We are also receiving reports that subtle parts of reality are breaking down near some of our frontier towns.  Appleloosa has reported that a large percentage of their apple crop has turned into mangos.  Even in Manehattan, we are receiving reports of dramatically increased chaotic outcomes in the Equestrian Market on Palisade Street.

I will keep in contact with you and will send a letter if I require your assistance at Canterlot.

Please be safe,

Celestia.”

Twilight looked up from the paper in shock.  “Discord?  After all we did for him, after all Fluttershy did for hi-”  a shadow passed over her eyes.

“Oh.  Fluttershy.  We’d better tell her first.  We can’t risk anyone else telling her the news before we do.  Oh no, I don’t know how she’ll take it…”  Twilight got up and beckoned Spike to follow her.  She made her way out the door and made her way towards Fluttershy’s cottage.