In Another Life III: A Human(e) Retelling

by Bateman66

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Adventure, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Sad
Length: 13984

Forced to recollect on his experiences in the nightmarish Realm of Solitude and beyond, Alistair dwells into a region he’s long tried to forget. But, as the questions take a dark twist, he wonders if something more sinister is afoot.

Given an offer he can’t refuse, Alistair is summoned to the University of Canterlot by a vague letter with an even vaguer pretense. Requesting an official background examination, the scholars of Equestria wish to finally document the details of his presence in the realm and achieve some sort explanation of his odd arrival, the facts of which he’s been reluctant to explain.

Presiding over the ordeal is the stalwart stallion Professor Neuro Paraprax, Director of Human Studies within the esteemed institution and hopeful optimist for the results the examination will yield. With a hardy education under his belt, and an incredible diligence for the facts, it seems that all will turn out well.

But, as the questions take a dark twist, and Alistair find’s himself increasingly unsettled by the answers, the problems of the past may be prove to be the least of his concerns.

Published 2014-01-21 03:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-25 02:05:20 UTC

A Professor's Inquiry

Professor Neuro Paraprax was indifferent to public speaking. Although he’d given several lectures in his past, travelling from the finest institutions in Equestria to research facilities in the Griffon Kingdom, in no way would he ever label these experiences as “fun”.

He did not hate the practice in particular, only finding the necessity of verbally describing scholarly topics unnecessary in comparison of simply reading a textbook pertaining to the topic. Never the less, whenever he was asked by the University to give an orientation or discussion on the several fields he excelled in, not once did he object militantly, only shaking his head and requesting that he would not be asked again.

Now, as he stood professionally in the center of the wooden exhibition stage with the warm white spotlight shinning down at his orange furred face, he felt mildly invigorated as he instructed new arrivals to the University of Canterlot on one of his favorite topics.

“A commonly asked question about the nature of sapient movement,” he announced grandly, “is almost always about their most unusual feature of using two legs to walk instead of four.” He gestured with his hoof. “Granted, other species such as certain dragon geneses or the advanced canine race commonly referred to as “Diamond Dogs” both do posses this ability.”

“However, these races contain other members in their genetic families that are unable of biped movement, were as all humans, every single one recorded within Equestrian history, have always used a single pair of legs to rely on adequate movement.

“But, we must also disregard the case of the third century human Ogelthorpe the Eye, for it’s believed he suffered from a genetic disorder which caused the sprouting of his third leg. But, let’s move on.”

On cue, the large white screen behind him clicked on and displayed a skeletal image of a human leg.

“Now, as most ponies are aware of, standing or moving around on one’s back legs are possible, for a short bit. But eventually, the strain of our weight proves too difficult to support and we most return to our normal quadruped form of movement. Many assume that that is the secret to human movement, that by being lighter they are thus capable of needing only two legs to move properly. This, however; is not true.”

A light murmur went through the audience, a commonly believed urban legend was once again being disproven by science. Paraprax normally would have not tolerated a disturbance to his lesson, but he understood that these were first years and not particularly aware of inter-dimensional organism’s anatomy.

“There have been several cases of a human male or female weighing the same if not more than their average pony counterpart. And yet, they were still able to comfortably suffice without the need of an extra pair of legs. This is all made possible by this single little bone,” he pointed with his hoof towards the white screen at a small circular bone at the skeleton’s knee.

“This is the patella, commonly referred to as the “knee cap”. This small circular composite of several other bones is what keeps our none-furred friends from moving along on the more natural all fours. It acts as a sort of cushion or, more directly, a weight distributor that not only distributes the human’s weight around its legs but also protects its knee joints from trauma or damage.”

He clapped his hoofs together to single the end of his short presentation. “And that my friends, is all we have time for today.” A collective groan went through the crowd, no doubt dissatisfaction among the students with being given less of a lecture they’d been hoping for.

Never the less, the crowd of ponies applauded him graciously as he bowed to them formally.  “Thank you all for coming today. If anypony is interested, we’re giving out pamphlets on the course outlines for Human Studies this semester. You can pick them up by the door.”

The audience quickly filed out of the auditorium exits, leaving him alone on the stage as the spotlight continued to shine down from the balcony. Not bothering to use the tiny flight of stairs, Paraprax hopped off the stage and gathered up his things from a nearby table.

“Wasn’t that bad,” he mumbled as he closed his attaché case shut. “Not bad at all.”

A Child's Inquiry

Alistair stared down at his hands. They were wrinkled and dry, not from age or maltreatment, but from the bitter cold that had seemed to come out of nowhere. Winter had settled quickly in Equestria and even the driest and muggiest of regions felt the biting chill that made even the simplest of outdoor activities feel nearly impossible. He’d dealt with winters before, but it seemed his tolerance had waned over the year he’d been waiting for it to return.

The train jostled slightly, interrupting the normal thumbing of metal wheels against metal rails that had been metaphorically chirping for the past day.

Rubbing his palms together, he scratched the most dried and uncomfortable parts along his thumbs, not feeling much satisfaction in the act.

“You’d think they would’ve cured this by now,” mumbled Alistair to himself.

“Hmm?” said Twilight as she looked up from her book, the only entertainment she brought along the entire trip.

“I said: you’d think they’d cured this by now.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Cured what?”

“Dry skin,” he said as he help up his emaciated palms. “They’ve been bothering me awhile, especially the itchiness.”

Twilight looked back down at her book, not disinterested in what Alistair was saying, but trying to multitask as was her inherent ability. “Why don’t you put lotion on them then?”

“It’s too slimy. I feel like I’m squishing rotten bananas whenever I put it on my hands.” He pantomimed squishing the air, then grimaced at the thought he gave himself.

Twilight grinned, her attention still focused on the book. “Looks like you’re at a crossroads then. On one end are dry skin and the other, rotten bananas.”

He sighed. “When you put it like that both options look unappealing.”

Alistair paused and looked out the closest train window. He had to crane his neck around to get a good view but he could clearly see they were still speeding through the Everfree Forest.

“Looks like we still have a ways to go,” he remarked back to her.

“I wouldn’t say we have too far. I’ve been on the Canterlot Express before. Shouldn’t be too long until we can see the city.”

Alistair’s eyes became wide. “We’re gonna see the city? All the way from the train car?” He paused to fathom such an idea. “Is it really that big?”

Twilight chuckled and put the book down on the seat beside her. “It’s big, no doubt about it. Not on par with Manehattan or Las Pegasus, but still big mind you. It doesn’t look like much from far away, most assume it’s just the Royal Castle along the mountainside. But when you actually enter, the city is very compact and definitely fills the volume it’s in.”

Alistair’s jaw dropped. “A city…built along a mountain? How’s that even possible?”

“Your acting like this is your first day all over again,” she said with a giggle. “Keep this up and you’ll be back to fainting every minute.”

“Hey!” he said objectively but louder than intended, “that just happened…” he paused to count in his head, “three times in a single night. It wasn’t that frequent of an occurrence.”

She put her hooves up in defense, “Joking; only joking. I guess the city’s already getting to me even before we get there.”

“What are we doing there precisely?” he asked.

Twilight bit her lip. “I’m…I’m not sure. Professor Paraprax was very vague on the exact happenings of us eventually meeting up. It could be anything.”

“Could that mean a physical examination?” he said, the answer not satisfying him. “Psychological examination? Blood test? X-ray screening? Something else?”

“I don’t know,” said Twilight evasively. “The letters we exchanged didn’t have all that much substance to them. We just focused on when and where to meet, and that was it.”

“But surely there had to be something more. Maybe a—”

“Please,” said Twilight sternly as she held her hoof up to silence him. “That’s all we talked about, ok? End of story.”

Alistair’s brow furred as his face puckered into an odd mix of hurt feelings and responding anger. “Sure, whatever you say, Twilight.”

Alistair leaned back in his chair, jutting his legs out as far as they could go while puckering his face further into a sulk, the only way he knew to cope with feelings of neglect and indifference.

They didn’t speak to each other for the next few minutes, Twilight staring awkwardly towards the ceiling as Alistair sat with his arms crossed and teeth grit. The train rumbled lowly outside as the silent car occasionally bounced up and down. Breaking the tension, Twilight sighed remorsefully.

“Alistair…I’m sorry. I got too carried away with…um…with—”

“It’s alright,” he said vacantly, not really feeling what he said. “Everything’s ok, no need to dwell on it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” he asserted, “it’s nothing, really. I don’t want our entire dang trip to be soured up by a little argument. I would just prefer to drop it, for our own sakes.”

Twilight nodded, some of her guilt relieved. “Agreed.”

Almost on cue, Alistair jumped from his seat and pointed dramatically out the window. “Look!” he yelled. “There it is!”

And sure enough, there was Canterlot, no longer shrouded by the stretching tree line of the Everfree Forest. The city jutted outwards into the sky, its white castle spire being, as she predicted, the first thing Alistair saw. The metropolis itself seemed to be suspended in midair, its size and scope impossibly being supported by the purple mountain it sat next to.

“We’re here,” she announced warmly as Alistair continued to point out the window, seemingly frozen in place at the magnificence he was witnessing for the first time.

Getting up from her seat, she placed her hoof gently on his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get our things from the storage car. We can look at the city all we want once we have everything.” Tugging against him, he slowly unstuck his eyes from the beautiful city and followed after Twilight.

Knowing One Another

Neuro calmly opened his office door and shut it behind him. Putting his case by the ill-used coat rack, he quickly scanned around the room, something feeling out of place.

The office seemed its normal self, his desk’s cluttered surface of folders, binders and loose papers, his worn leather roller chair, the massive shelf he kept behind his desk with nothing but old encyclopedias and a globe along its top, and of course, his several hanging professorate degrees across his wall.

Scratching his orange furred stubble along his chin, the fact suddenly hit him. “The shades,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the plastic shutters over the large window on the left of his office, leaving only a trace of sunlight creeping out through the bottom.

Moving over to his desk, he began to straighten up the workplace the best he could, moving similar items into piles along the sides while tossing stray pens and pencils into the pits of his desk, never to be seen again until he cleaned the dang thing out again.

As he cleaned hastily, his desk pager rang. Reaching over, he clicked the red receiving button.

“Yes, Honey Dew?” he asked in his professional and neutral manner.

“Ya’ two o’clock appointments a’ here,” responded his nasally secretary with a Balitmare accent thicker than concrete solution.

His face paled. A worried utter fluttered in his chest, sending a shockwave of energy through his body. He felt his hooves begin to sweat with perspiration.

“Profesa Paraplax?”

He shook himself quickly. “Y-Yes?”

“I said ya’ two o’clock appointments a’ here. Miss Twilight Spaukle and tha’ human Mistah Alista.”

“T-Thank you Honey Drew—I mean Honey Dew, send them in please.”

“Yes, Profesa.”

Neuro leaned back slightly, propping himself against one of the walls. He felt a warm feeling of happiness float up through his chest mixed with a frantic nervousness that filled him with an anxious excitement, a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite sometime. Breathing in several times, he slowly pushed himself upwards

“You can do this,” he said aloud. “Stay calm and collected; let the feelings out in moderation, never in bursts. This is what you you’ve been teaching for years.”

Folding his hooves tightly, he paced around the room in anticipation for his guests, not quite knowing what he’d do once they arrived.

Twilight smiled, eyeing the door in anticipation. “Go on,” she urged excitedly, “knock on the door.”

Alistair stood shakily by the simple office door, his hands refusing to even move towards the door. “I can’t!” he moaned dramatically. “You do it instead, please!” He jumped away from the door and cowered behind Twilight, legitimately frightened by what laid behind it.

Twilight chuckled. “I wouldn’t think that a door would be the worst part of this, but if you insist…” She rapped her hooves twice against the hollow sounding door.

“Come in,” called a deep and scholarly voice from behind the door.

Pushing it open with her magic, Twilight stepped through the doorway, followed slowly by Alistair.

They appeared to be in an incredibly messy private office, with stray books and papers tossed around haphazardly, while a magnificent dark oak desk set in the back. Several hanging professorate and doctorate degrees sat along one of the walls, while the other end was a wide glass window that had its shades pulled down almost to the bottom. Thankfully, a large overhead ceiling light lit the space in a relaxing golden glow, making the scattered wreckage of a professor’s office look as safe as ever.

And, sitting behind the large desk in a worn leather roller chair was an older looking orange stallion, with mild stubble along his earth pony chin. And despite his added years, he still appeared in great shape, being able to quickly push himself out of his desk and approach them with a greeting smile.

“Miss. Sparkle,” he said as they shook hooves, “it very nice to finally see you.”

She smiled. “Likewise, Professor Paraprax. Your articles on conscious and unconscious action in Beyond is what really keeps me subscribed to their journal.”

He chuckled. “They’ve realized that, which is probably why they’ve been trying to get more prominent talent regularly writing, but…” he moved over to Alistair, “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself.”

“Professor Neuro Paraprax,” he stated officially, “psychologist, historian, and Head Researcher of Human Studies here at Canterlot University, or CU for short.” He extended his hoof to shake, Alistair returned the favor.

“My name is Alistair,” he responded formally, “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.”

The professor shook his head. “Oh, no need to be so uptight my dear boy! We’re meeting as friends, not as dignitaries.” He leaned over to Twilight. “You’ve led up quite an upstanding fellow, Miss. Sparkle.”

She blushed. “Oh, I couldn’t take all the credit, Professor. Alistair’s always carried his manners with him, from the very first time we met.”

He scratched his orange stubble. “Hmmmm—but please! I can’t leave you two standing here all day. Sit down if you like.” He gestured towards two comfortable looking chairs in front of his desk.

As the two friends sat down, Neuro moved about the room quickly, shutting the still ajar door and pulling a few papers from his attaché case on his desk. Sitting down finally, he looked through the papers he’d gathered.

“Now I understand Miss. Sparkle, that there is a concern that you’ve been having for quite some time. Could you please articulate that, for Alistair’s sake?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, well…Professor, since this is obviously your expertise of study, you understand the importance of recording and documenting history for the sake of knowledge, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Well, that being said, me and Alistair have had some…complications regarding this.”

“Oh no…” mumbled Alistair as he rubbed his forehead.

“He’s so far refused to divulge any information regarding his past,” continued Twilight. “He made slight reference to his homeworld and why he came here when we first met, but from there he’s locked up completely, refusing even to speak on the subject to me.”

She turned to him, her eyes thick with care. “We’re not trying to be prying Alistair; we just need to know, for the good of research.”

Alistair crossed his arms and glared up at the ceiling, not saying a word.

“Hmmmm,” concluded the Professor, “I see. Miss. Sparkle, could you please step out for the moment? I wish to talk to Alistair in private, for his own sake. I can call you back in once we’re ready.”

“Of course,” Twilight got up from her chair, and, with a light squeeze on Alistair’s shoulder, left the room quickly, leaving Alistair and Paraprax alone.

Initial Endeavors

Initial Endeavors

Neuro smiled honestly at Alistair. “I want you to understand that what Twilight Sparkle, your friend, said is absolutely true. In no way is she, the University, or myself trying to personally attack or pry private information from you. We simply wish to catalogue your past experiences for scholarly purposes, as all humans have since this institution was first established.”

Alistair glared at him. “If you don’t want to pry, then don’t ask any questions. We’d both be comfortable that way.”

“But this is for the pursuit of knowledge!” the Professor insisted with passion. “You’d be stifling the study and research of your kind by not telling us what you know. I can see how this doesn't appear very important to you, but the nature of human involvement in our world is one of the longest standing enigmas for all of Equestria. What you tell us could lead the pursuit closer to the truth.”

This reasoning made since to Alistair. The pursuit of truth was a cause more just than any that could come to mind. And if the Professor was only motivated by that, how could anypony go against that sentiment? Alistair’s face softened, feeling a tension now eased slightly. Maybe the Professor wasn't that bad of a stallion.

“But what if I don’t want to then?” asked Alistair half-heartily, not really asking the question but more so just wishing to know the Professor’s response. Neuro caught onto this and smiled at him further.

“Alistair, do you think that every human, every single one from now to over three thousand years ago, wished to divulge their own personal and possibly painful story to one they saw as a stranger?”

Alistair shook his head.

“Well, there you go! I can guarantee that several felt in the same position as you find yourself in today, but that doesn't mean we can use that as an excuse to not face our fears. We all have to eventually, so why not do it willingly?”

Alistair thought about this a moment, running his finger along his chin. The stallion’s logic seemed unquestionably sound. How could anypony argue against something that seemed so assured? “You’re probably right, Professor Paraprax.”

He chuckled. “As I said earlier Alistair, no need to be so formal. Please, call me Neuro.”

“Alright Profes—I mean, Neuro. Is there something in particular you’d like to ask?”

“Actually,” he said as he reached down under his desk and pulled out a large reel-to-reel tape recorder, promptly placing atop his desk. “I wish to record our conversation, more efficient than me having to scrawl down notes as you speak. Is that alright.”

“Sure.”

Straightening some papers on his desk hastily, Neuro hovered his hoof over the device’s play button. “Are you ready?”

Alistair nodded and Neuro clicked the machine on. Clearing his throat, he began.

“Let’s begin with some rudimentary matters, just to start things off small.” He didn’t wait for any signal from Alistair this time, now feeling a comfortable anticipation to the boy’s responses. That ability of his normally took form much sooner with most other ponies, but the special circumstances of the situation could no doubt be to blame.

“How long have you been within the realm of Equestria, or do you at least have a rough estimate?”

Alistair pondered for a moment, brushing over the numbers in his mind. “Hmmmm, it was in the spring, so…close to five months currently, maybe a little longer.”

Neuro scribbled something onto a stray piece of paper and quickly “Now, in Twilight Sparkle’s account you gave quick reference to your homeworld when she pressed upon the topic, but you relented from further inquiry. Could you please reiterate and expand on this?”

Alistair shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the dreaded question he’d been expecting finally being asked. “I’ll try.”

He breathed in deeply, feeling a dreadful worry drop into his stomach. “It had no name, at least one that was made clear to me. I’m not sure when I took to calling it “Solitude”; it feels like such a long time ago…” He paused. “Buts that’s what it was mind you, solitude. Never has a single place been more calm, more still than that lovely stretch of forested land.”

“There was life present, a wide assortment as any environment should, but none others like myself. The creatures that dwelt there…were simple in nature. Much like the ones here in Equestria, not only in attitude but appearance as well.”

“And to suit these varying creatures, were varying climates. Everything from thick forests to barren deserts. I did not travel far from my home. I was, and still am, a creature of habit, but I can guarantee there must have been more.”

Neuro nodded his head but did not interrupt, simply gesturing for him to continue.

“In the months preceding to my arrival, it may have been longer, something happened to my home, a plague came across it who’s only purpose was to kill and destroy all it touched. The environment, which I so foolishly believed to be invincible to any passing of time, quickly began to degrade. The local animals turned hostile to my presence, the native plant life began to die, even the ground itself started to blacken and harden, forming a sort of rocky volcanic structure in what was once soft brown soil.”

“As time progressed, as if the withering of life was not enough, massive wind storms began to strike the area, hurling chunks of dead wood and jagged rocks in any direction it chose, ready to smash my face in if I popped my head out for more than twelve seconds.”

“It was at this point that the possibility of the Realm improving seemed more like wishful thinking than an actual possibility. If I stayed there any longer I’d either have my entire dang house collapse around my ears or starve to death from my now dwindling food supply.”

“I always knew I could leave, I’d just never considered the possibility seriously. There were some many ‘what-ifs’ and unknowns with transporting between realms, I had no flippin’ idea how it’d turn out or if I’d even live through the entire process. I’d never preformed the transportation before, never had a reason to. Now, I did.”

“Make no mistake though; I did not leave home for the heck of it, for the sake of ‘adventure’ or something childish like that. It was the only choice I had. Living or dying. And although I’m grateful of how things turned out the end, this was all—” he gestured to the entire room, encircling the whole of the space as large as he could, “not purposeful in the beginning.”

Neuro leaned forward in anticipation, hoping to get more details about a land he’d never be able to visit. However, the silence from Alistair signified that he was done. The possibility of pressing the boy on for more information crossed his mind, but he understood subtlety was his tool at this moment, and that elaboration could be done later, maybe by somepony else.

“That was quite poetic” he commented gently. “Do you feel alright?”

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck. “I…I’m not sure. I didn’t think I really had it in me, to say all of that. It feels weird.”

“How does it feel?”

“Like that was not me speaking, that it was someone else’s story. It felt tiring and strenuous as I spoke, that for just a moment, I was older, much older.”

Neuro nodded. “Most interesting. Perhaps that is satisfaction? Relief? Pain? Whatever it is, you’ve help greatly and I am most appreciative of that.”

Alistair’s face brightened. “Does that mean we’re done then?”

Neuro shook his head. “Unfortunately not, we still have one last thing to discuss and then we’re done for today.”

Alistair tilted his head in query. “What are you wondering?”

The professor nervously riffled through some of his papers until slowly asking his question. “What memories do you have of your parents?”

Alistair’s eyes popped out at this, his face looking like he’d just been punched in the gut by a leather wrecking ball. Struggling with words for a moment, he answered in quiet exasperation. “Kind of jumping the gun there, Professor.”

“I understand how you feel, but this is all in the pursuit of knowledge, I assure you.”

“B-But, I-I…I don’t want to answer the question.”

Neuro smiled and folded his hooves tightly, feeling his fur beginning to sweat. “Alistair, please. We discussed the importance of these answers earlier. I understand if the questions make you uncomfortable, but we must know what you know.”

He stared at his feet and was quiet a moment. Bringing his hands to his mouth, he sighed once more. “I have very vague memories of my parents. I don’t remember names, I don’t locations. Nothing very helpful to anypony.”

“Could you tell me what you do remember? After that we’re done, no more questions.”

Alistair’s face scrunched up in thought, as if he’d bitten down on a lemon while trying to recite something backwards. “I…remember voices, a face. One’s…female—I think—the other male. I see yellow—no, golden—no, blond hair, it’s moving around. Someone’s talking; I think it’s the female. Someone just called my name—”

“What did they call you?” he said with a surge of anxious energy, his heart now beating at an unhealthy pace that most physicians would have diagnosed as “death”.

His face wrinkled in further thought. “I…I…” his shoulders suddenly slumped down, his energy exhausted. “I can’t remember, it’s too hard.”

The Professor looked disappointed, his hopes partially resting open that question. Managing a weak smile to Alistair, he nodded. “That’s quite alright, I understand. Would you care to meet tomorrow then? Around the same time?”

Alistair rose from his seat, not waiting for any permission to do so. “I’d prefer to have a bit of a wider lapse, just to collect myself.”

“Of course, how does the seventeenth work? Three days from now?”

Alistair nodded. “Sounds fine, goodbye.” He turned and quickly strolled out of the office, walking in a way to not appear rude but still get him away from something he feared. Closing the door without even turning around, he left the Professor to himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Neuro sighed as he clicked the recorder off. He hadn’t touched on everything he wished to examine, but there was still time. But in between then…he stared down at the mounds of paperwork he had pushed to the side of his desk.

“I can’t get a moments peace around here,” he mumbled tiredly.

What Lies Ahead

Alistair maneuvered his way carefully through the hotel corridors, an extra sense of worry upon him with the enveloping darkness seeming to surround him through each hallway. He should’ve been sound asleep three hours earlier, waiting for the next day’s exciting tourist activities with Twilight.

But tonight, sleep was an elusive action that seemed almost laughable to him at this hour. His heart thudded quicker than normal and he felt such an overload of energy that he could’ve ran three miles up a ninety-degree incline and still would have felt ready to run three more.

He strafed his teeth across the bottom of his lip as he moved along the corridor walls, watching his shadow creep up and distort in the faint glow of the hallway lights. Seeing a brighter light from up ahead, he silently ran towards it. With each bound he felt his nerves began to unknot themselves until he skidded to a halt within a new chamber he’d intentionally entered.

He looked around the hotel sitting room, its red carpet and low lights giving it such a moody and relaxing feel. Somepony had lit a fire earlier and it still burned away at a fireplace near the back of the room. And in the back of the room, with no pony else around, was a single dark silhouette sitting on a chair near the blistering flames, painting an interesting yet frightful display of what appeared to be hell fire behind it.

Walking slowly towards it, he attempted his best not to be heard, placing his bare feet softly against the floor. Suddenly, only yards away from his target, his cover was blown. The figure spoke.

“Hello, Alistair,” called Twilight from the chair, her face buried deep in her latest evening read. “What are you doing up so late, I thought you were tired?”

He shrugged. “I felt tired, just can’t sleep.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“I think so.”

“Well,” said Twilight as she levitated her book down and turned around to face him, “why don’t you tell me what’s got you riled up?”

He nodded and took a seat by the closest chair to Twilight. Placing his feet down evenly to one another, he spoke his troubles.

“I don’t think I like that Professor Paraprax,” he said plainly.

“What?” asked Twilight with surprise; taken back that anypony would have ill feelings toward the scholarly Professor that she’d been admiring since she was barely a mare. “How could you dislike the Professor? He’s struck me as an upstanding stallion when we both met him.”

Alistair nodded his head. “He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that how he operates, how he’s asking me these questions. That’s what I don’t like.”

Twilight eyed him sternly. “You know he’s asking you important questions. I hope you responded honestly, for everypony’s sake.”

He put his arms up in defense, a bit annoyed at the notion of being implied as a liar. “I did, I did. Don’t worry. I answered everything exactly how he wanted it.”

Twilight leaned back in her seat. “Then I don’t see how this bothers you then. You answered his questions and that was that. Now your back here and the day is done. How’re you bothered by that?”

“He asked me about my parents,” he said lowly, not hesitating a moment to drop a verbal bombshell that would have shattered even the best poker player’s mask of serenity. Twilight was no exception, whose eyes inflated like airbags while she jolted backwards in an electric manner.

“Yeah…” he said absently while rubbing his forehead skittishly. “It was, uh, it was that...what’s got me sort of…you know, out of sorts…” He paused, now noticing the awkward silence. “I’m sorry.”

“No-no-no,” she said quietly. “There was no other way to put it. You could’ve either beaten around the bust for thirty minutes or just gone straight out and told me.” She grinned sadly. “At least you chose the shorter one.”

He returned the grin while nodding his head. “Yeah…I did.”

For awhile they sat in silence, the methodical clicking of the still glowing fire the only sound dampener that kept an eerie midnight silence at bay. Drumming her hooves shakily against her arm chair, Twilight turned to him.

“What did you tell him?”

Alistair sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I told him what I knew, which was hardly anything to begin with. There wasn’t even a point of him asking.”

“Did you tell him everything?”

“Yes,” he stated with a harsh edge. “Not a single minuscule detail of absolutely pointless information was left out. Yes, Twilight, I told him everything.”

Twilight eyed him sternly, clearly angered by his rude retort. “I’m just making sure that not a single detail was missed. This is an important study that you’re helping with, and I’d be darned if you, or anypony else, mucked it up. A lot of ponies are counting on this.”

“But why?” he moaned sadly, clenching his fists together in exasperation. “Why does everyone here care so much? I’m just a kid, I haven’t even done anything.”

Twilight smiled. “Well, you did get captured by a crazed paramilitary group and derailed a train while making your grand escape. I’d say that’s grounds for public interest.”

He sheepishly smiled, the humor of the statement almost making up for the pride he felt in it. No matter how much he tried, in no way could he shake the heroism that he felt during that fantastic adventure, just months ago. He’d never struck anypony as being prideful, the event was simply too big to turn a blind eye to, at least in his mind.

“I realize that,” he said, trying very hard to sound modest. “But before then, and even to ponies who didn’t here about the story in the papers, they still see me as some sort of…thing.”

Twilight shrugged. “Simple idea of a spectacular. Something looks different or interesting; you want to get a good look at it. Because in everypony’s mind, you never know if you’re going to see it again.” She pointed her hoof towards him. “More so with you than the humans that came before you.”

He nodded, fully understanding what she was referencing. “I almost forgot about that. Those whole forty years, and not even a trace of us.”

“Fifty years, almost,” corrected Twilight. “My parents were born just a few years after Skip Stop passed.” Twilight’s eyes shifted downwards as she sadly shook her head. “Terrible way she went, nobody deserved that, especially not her.”

Alistair nodded silently and looked into the simmering fire. He knew all to well of what had become of the kind and gentle female human by the name of Skip Stop. She’d been incredibly gifted in her speed, being able to outrun even the fastest of pegasi without even realizing she’d passed them.

It was with this unmatched speed, that she was able to relay messages at a lightening pace between the major cities of Equestria, acting as the fastest sort of express mail for only the most important of situations. And when a massive storm seemed to be approaching towards Manehattan to the north, she was already off towards the metropolis, ready to warn its inhabitants of the approaching chaos.

It was along the road, near a nameless backwater hamlet, as she blasted along at a speed never seen by anypony of her day, she collided with a stopped wooden carriage, not even seeing the massive object as it slammed into her like a concrete slab.

It was in this account, Alistair worried about his own mortality. Skip Stop had been older, yes, and maybe a teeny bit more prone to accidents, but she hadn’t been pursued by a group of maniacs with cutting-edge weaponry and a penchant for not making themselves seen. The possibility of him ending up like her seemed pretty low, but being systematically hunted down, captured, and possibly killed wasn’t.

“Alistair?” said Twilight expectantly; her tone suggested she’d repeated herself more than once.

Alistair shook his head quickly, shaking out the cobwebs of thought in his mind. “Y-Yes?”

“I was wondering what you wanted to do tomorrow when we’re out on the town. There’s either the Royal Gardens or the Air Shipyards.”

He didn’t even need think what his response would be. “Definitely the Gardens.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, surprised that the clearly more exciting outing had been chosen over a boring walk in glorified hedge mazes. “Really? No shipyards?”

“Nope,” he answered casually. “I’m already feeling the closing corners of stress descend on this trip, and a nice garden stroll seems like the perfect cure.”

“Alright,” said Twilight offhandedly, not very concerned with however which way their day went. “It’s your decision.”

Alistair stood up from the chair and stretched right in front of the fire, greedily taking in its comforting glow. “Good, just the way I like things. And you know what? I think sleep’s actually calling me for the first time tonight.”

She grinned. “Let’s hope it works then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he called back as he walked out of the room, feeling much better then he had when he’d entered.

Cracking the Mind

Alistair tapped his knuckles against the office door of Professor Neuro Paraprax. Inside he could hear a wild shuffling of papers that seemed to cascade about like a storm. Not hearing a response, Alistair knocked again.

“Come in,” called the voice of the Professor, its baritone lowness and soothing aura slightly muffled through the walls. Opening the office door, Alistair stepped in casually and shut it behind him.

“Alistair!” greeted the orange stallion jovially from his desk. “It’s very nice to see you once again. How was yesterday?”

He made a wobbling motion with his hand. “It was fine. Twilight and I spent most of the day walking through the Royal Gardens, and then ate dinner at the hotel. Pretty mild to be quite honest.”

Neuro smiled. “Well at least you still had an enjoyable time.” He gestured to the vacant waiting room chair that sat in front of his massive desk. “Please-please, take a seat. We have much to cover today.”

Taking his seat as casually as he entered, Alistair folded his hands and leaned back slightly. “So what precisely are we going to be covering today, Professor?”

The Professor pulled the reel-to-reel tape recorder out from under his desk and placed atop a bare section of his desk. Clicking the record button on the machine, he began. “Oh, just this and that. Nothing too important.”

Alistair bit his lip at the vagueness of the answer, half-truths and open ended responses leaving a large possibility of whatever was intended. Never the less, he respectfully kept his mouth shut, opting to stick with the manners Twilight Sparkle had so valiantly instilled within him.

“I’d like to start with something different, though,” continued the Professor. “I’d like to focus on you for a moment. Not your past, not your homeworld, just…you.”

“What would you like to know?”

Neuro rubbed the stubble along his chin gently, seeming to stall for a moment as he contemplated something. “Where does your name come from, Alistair?”

Alistair’s eyes widened in surprise, but quickly receded as a grin spread across his face. “You don’t skip a beat, do you Professor?”

He smiled slyly. “I try. It’s a talent you pick over the years I suppose.”

Alistair laughed. “I would assume so. But still…how do you know about my name?”

“Twilight Sparkle told me,” he answered simply. “The reference you made about the correlation between that book and your name left quite an unanswered hole. What was the book’s title, precisely?”

“Alistair’s Adventures in the End of Time,” he happily responded with giddy pomp. “Definitely one of the greatest books ever written.”

“Quite an interesting title there,” remarked Neuro with a chuckle “invokes adventure, mystery to the mind. I assume that’s why you chose it?”

Alistair shook his head. “It was the only one that was open to be quite honest. I wasn’t particularly adept in the names department. But it seemed like an interesting enough title so I took it, and have never looked back since.”

Neuro looked confused for a moment and held up his hooves to stop him. “Hold on a second. You didn’t have a name prior? No other alias?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t see the need. Nobody else was there to speak to me, so why have a title to go by if you’d never use it? But after reading the book, it did seem nice to have an identifier, something to call or see yourself as. It suddenly seemed odd not to have one so I figured, why not?”

Neuro’s eyes sharpened as he nodded. “Most interesting. I believe your one of the few people to be granted the rare honor of actually choosing your name. A huge liberty is in that.”

“I assume there’s been ponies who haven’t been…content with their birth name?”

“Oh no,” said Neuro with a smile. “My brother was an Equestria Games athlete, ran the 500 meter sprint about fifteen years ago. Our parents named him Dough Loaf.”

Alistair’s face contorted as he tried to hold back a giggle. “Yeah…I can see how he…wouldn’t like that name. Not very fitting to his persona.”

“Not it was not.” Neuro paused. “But we still have work to do I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright,” said Alistair with a positive lift. “This is definitely getting easier than before.”

A sad frown wrinkled onto Neuro’s face as he nodded slowly. He felt something rushing towards him, knowing all to well what it was going to be, but denying any feelings that came with.  Neuro leaned forward on his desk, his hoofs folded solemnly as his shoulders hunched slightly. Speaking on something slightly above a solemn whisper, Neuro looked at him with weak eyes.

“I understand what happened to you in the days preceding your arrival in Equestria, but I remember you mentioned something about the wildlife. That they turned quite unruly in your final days…could you explain this?

Alistair’s eyes became glazed and heavy at the question, as if a switch had suddenly been flipped. Neuro could tell that it discomforted him, set him off balance. It was exactly what he had intended.

“Well…” began Alistair slowly, his voice wavering with indecision. “They bit me; they would just dash up and bite me. I thought it was rabies or some flu going around but it wasn’t, I…I had no idea what was happening.”

His tone slowly shifted into that of desperate recollection, shooting off details with a frustrated urgency, as if once he started he needed to finish as quickly as possible. “They would just move so fast, some would jump and tear right into my skin. It hurt so badly. These animals, such peaceful creatures, always keeping their distance from me, and then suddenly…”

“Suddenly what?” pressed Neuro, hating the words that were coming out of his own mouth.

“—Suddenly being so mean. This rabbit, a mangy little jackrabbit, bit me on the arm. Tore so deep that it bled, badly. I was so scared, so mad. He sank his teeth so deep in that he just hung there on my arm as I screamed. I had never felt so much pain in my life, not ever. I wanted him to just stop. So I took him by the head, yanking him from my arm and…and…”

“And what?”

Alistair’s face paled. “I killed him, with my hands. Just dropped his body right at my feet, like a bag of garbage. I felt numb, I felt bad. There we’re still others, getting closer…”

“Others?”

“They came from all sides. Teeth snarling. I readied myself. Magic in one hand, ax in the other. I knew what was coming…I closed my eyes as I did it.” He looked down placidly at the floor, his eyes empty.

“You killed them,” Neuro stated, finishing what they both already knew.

Alistair slowly shook his head. “No…that can’t be right, I…”

“You killed them,” he repeated, putting extra stress on his words to sear them further.

“No, no-no-no...I…I defended…defended…m-my…”

“You killed them, Alistair. You.”

“No!” he shouted as he stood up madly. “I…defended…I would’ve…they-they-they…I…” He looked down at his hands, and then grabbed at his hair, terrified, frozen where he stood. His face shocked in a horrid expression of realization and madness.

And then, as if on cue, Neuro leaped over his desk in a single sliding motion and landed right next to him, a syringe now held tightly in his hoof. Stepping back, Alistair gasped and attempted to push away but was too late. The needle bit into his shoulder as the Professor pressed down on the plunger.

His vision turned blurry as his ears rung like church bells. The world moved around him, shifting in and out between two places. He doubled back in confusion and crumpled to the floor.

The last thing he saw was the Professor standing over him, a sad grimace across his long face.

So Close, and Yet...

Neuro stared down at the wide eyed Alistair, who in turn, looked back blankly from the floor. It was difficult to determine if he was staring at him or his eyes were so glazed over that they simply reflected back toward wherever his head was facing. Whatever level of consciousness the boy still had, Neuro would need most, if not all, of it gone for his interview to be completed.

Grabbing the human by the shoulders, he lifted him off the floor with mild effort and placed him back into his chair. Lurching down slightly, Alistair crumpled into the soft office chair, his bones rubbery and misshapen from the sedative Neuro had injected into him earlier.

Moving around his desk casually, the good Professor plopped back down into his worn leather wheeler chair and sighed.

“I didn’t want to do this,” he said aloud to Alistair, who more than likely couldn’t comprehend even a vowel of what he was saying. “I’ve always preferred just to get my answers through verbal means rather than physical. It happens more often than you think, especially with rowdier or deranged patients. But you…” he made a waving gesture with his hoof, “you’re different.”

He eyed the reel-to-reel tape recorder that still sat on his desk, archiving everything they’d been speaking about for the past days. He considered clicking the large circular device off and performing the rest of his operation unrecorded. He shook his head in disapproval.

“Your difference doesn’t rest on your physicality or abilities,” he continued, “it’s your stubbornness, your refusal to go along with given rules. Whether you realize it or not, you hate being told what to do, you hate authority. And trust me, I would know, I’m a psychologist.”

One of Alistair’s eyes blinked as his mouth drooped open, possible recognition that he heard what the Professor was saying. And then again, maybe he didn’t.

“And it’s with this stubbornness that I had a creeping suspicion that you would not answer my final question willingly. I knew all too well that you’d hold out; maybe even walk out, instead of answering a simple question that will better all in Equestria for years to come.”

“You’re selfish, I understand that, we all are sometimes, and I know this is probably an uncomfortable experience for you, but that doesn’t excuse you from doing whatever you want. We must know the final piece of your puzzle, for the betterment of everypony and knowledge as a whole.”

He leaned back and sighed into his hooves, feeling a fatigue within himself. He felt more like he was just speaking with himself more so than the boy. And it was with this that he felt an overarching feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach, making him feel oddly distant from his current surroundings. He shook his head abruptly to try and keep these feelings at bay.

“Alright,” he said as he folded his hooves back across the table. “Last part of this odyssey and then we’re done. Ok? Done. Do you understand?”

Alistair continued to stare off in space, his face frozen in a misshapen state that left his cheeks and lower jaw hanging absently.

“Do you understand?” repeated Neuro sternly. “You will answer my question, yes?”

A rasp came from Alistair’s throat as his body began to restart. Shifting slowly upwards, his upper torso rose as his body slowly straightened itself in the chair. “I will answer,” he said lowly, his voice seeming to come from a great distance despite him being just across the desk.

“Good,” stated the Professor, “that’s very good.” He cleared his throat slowly, a purposeful procrastination to what came ahead, partially out of excitement and partially out of anxiety. “How did you arrive in Equestria, Alistair?”

“I…” he paused. “A magic act was preformed, one that can allow an individual to move between realms. One that requires energy and focus, and can prove harmful if not performed in the proper manner.”

Neuro Paraprax face hoofed in annoyance. “Yes-yes, very good. But what magic did you perform?”

“The spell does not have a name, to my knowledge.”

“For the love of…” muttered the Professor. “Can you at least tell me where you learned it? Any particular spell incantation or tome?”

Alistair’s empty eyes stared directly forward. “I do not know. The spell was always present in my mind.”

Neuro sighed. “This is going nowhere. I didn’t want for it to be this long and yet—” He looked at the standing Alistair, who in turn, stared back blankly at him. He cursed to himself aloud. “Fine, how about this: Can you show me the spell?”

Alistair robotically nodded his head. “I can show you the spell.” He rose to his feet, as if an invisible crane thrust him upwards immediately. “Where should I perform the spell?”

Neuro waved over to the corner of the room. “Do it over there, I wish to get a good view.”

“Yes.”

Alistair marched over to that corner of the room, his strides stiff and unwavering against the carpet. Turning around, as if to do a military about-face, he looked back towards Neuro. Giving him an encouraging nod of approval, Neuro beckoned for him to begin.

Spreading his legs slowly, Alistair brought his hands down to his thighs, equidistant from one another. Exhaling in and concentrating with his dulled senses, he breathed in deeply. Two bright blue auras of energy appeared in his palms, a shimmering light coming from each end as tiny white sparks jumped off the tips of his fingers.

Rising his hands upwards, he slowly pressed them against his chest, immediately being met with a searing light across his torso. Pressing harder, the energy held in his palms gradually transferred to where he held his hands. Within a minute, the blue energy began to spread about his entire body, covering his clothes and fair skin in a blazing blue spectacle.

The light continued to spread until it encompassed the entirety of his body, erasing any trace of who he was before, minus his spiny hair that had been covered in the process. Raising his hands to his shoulders, both arced in a stoic display of wonder, his body began to ascend towards the ceiling.

“Dear Celestia…” gaped Neuro as he stood behind his desk, the blue cascade shinning him with its glow. Words could not describe what he was seeing before him, an awesome showing of something most ponies had never dreamt of seeing right before their eyes. He sparkled with glee at the spectacle, almost forgetting why he’d commanded Alistair to perform it in the first place. Shaking himself out of his emotional state, he straightened his face back into one of discipline and professionalism.

“Now,” he shouted, suddenly realizing that whatever the human was doing was creating a whirling cyclone of sound within in his office. “Transport somewhere! I wish to see it!”

Alistair, now gracefully suspended equally between the ground and the ceiling, began to gently move his hands back towards his chest. However, he abruptly stopped himself mid-movement.

“No…” he mumbled, his voice coming as a deep roar. “I…no…” Clarity was beginning to pierce through his clouded mind. Whether the chemical Neuro had injected him with was wearing off, or the spell was doing that for him, he felt the pressing control of the Professor begin to slip.

“No!” commanded the Professor savagely. “You will finish the spell and you will show me how you got here, do you understand!?!”

“No…” he repeated, his voice beginning to gather strength.

“You will!” screamed the Professor in anguish. “You are mine to control! You will do as I say!”

“NO!” blasted Alistair’s voice through the room. “I WON’T!”

A shockwave blasted forth from where Alistair hovered, tossing all loose contents through the room in a whirling storm of debris. The blue encompassing energy, as if on a switch, quickly disappeared from Alistair entirely, and he fell to the floor.

Picking Up the Pieces

Neuro somberly looked down at the fallen Alistair, who breathed slowly from where he lay on the floor. A few moments ago the room had been sounding like the vortex of a windstorm, with even the simplest of words being carried away by the swelling force contained within the small space. Now, the entire chamber was absolutely still, with no outside interruption coming from anywhere.

The Professor of over four degrees in education and science had been expecting for a grand revelation to be made minutes before, a final solving of an age old question that been plaguing himself and others for as long as memory could go. Instead, he’d seen his own elated mood rise to an unimaginable level, carried about by his equally rising expectations, only to see both of them quickly spiral downwards into blackness in less than a second.

If he was perhaps younger, or maybe just not as forlorn, he might have tried to resuscitate the situation. Possibly jumpstarting the boy with a stimulate shot, injecting him with a few more ounces of tranquillizer, and having him perform the dimensional transportation tome once more.

But his instincts objected to this notion, common sense ruling it was much too dangerous. He’d pushed his luck about as far as it could take him, and he couldn’t risk any internal complications from giving the child another does of powerful psychoactive chemicals.

Sighing with a dejected look that pained the crest of his chest, he slowly walked around his desk and toward the lying Alistair.

“We could have accomplished such great things together,” he said with an absent disappointment better suited for a co-worker or partner in a profession. “But now…I…we, no longer have the chance.”

He clenched his hooves together aggressively and kicked the edge of the carpet, creating a slight ruffle on it. Cursing loudly, he descended into a hail of obscenities and cusses that lasted well over a minute, their creativity matching with that of a seasoned Badlands raider’s.

Panting from his strained anger, he rubbed a slight trail of perspiration off the center of his brow and felt a tad bit better.

“I don’t blame you,” he announced over his gasping. “At least, I’m trying not to. It’s not fair for me to get mad at you, this is my own fault, and I should fess up to it. It’s just hard, you know?”

“Having to place everything that went wrong on yourself, and knowing that it actually is your fault. You want to reject it, to deny it, to try and push it away and place it upon someone or something. But you can’t, because it’s your problem and you have to take it with you, because no other pony will.”

Neuro sighed. There wasn’t even a point to his confession. No pony, no pony conscious for that matter, was listening to a word he spoke. Still, it felt a bit better to talk to someone, even if that someone was himself.

Trotting over to his wide shaded window, he quickly yanked at the metal pull chain and thrust the shutters open. The dull white light of a cloudy winter day creeped into the room, now adding with the electric lamp light that was already present. He would have preferred a blasting ray of sunshine to lift his spirits, but this would have to do.

“I learned enough from what we did today and our session before. Not as much as I’d promised myself, but enough to suffice for most scholars’ expectations. I set the bar too high, maybe it was unrealistic, I don’t know…”

He moved his hoof along the line of stubble on his chin, gently pushing the stringy orange hairs sprouting up. “I never disliked…Alistair, never had that born hatred that some ponies have for your kind. Something like that is out of line, dumb.”

“I just needed to know your secret. This wasn’t out of spite or anger, just for the pursuit of knowledge, nothing more. And although, I admit, I did stoup lower than I’d be comfortable with, the ends justified the means.”

He moved away from the window and back over to Alistair. Standing above the boy, he inspected him quickly, checking for any visual or facial identifiers to serious injury. Thankfully, the boy looked fine, with nothing more than exhaustion about him and a sunken in expression.

“That’s good,” the Professor said aloud. “Nothing too bad. It looks like all you need is a little something to eat and a nice long nap. I’m not very well versed in injuries resulting from magic,” he smiled warmly, “but you look ok to me.”

“Now come on, let’s get you back up on your feet.” Taking Alistair by the shoulder, Neuro gradually lifted him to his feet until the human was standing wobbly on both of his legs. His eyes still appeared glazed and distorted from the injection Neuro had given him earlier, their focus shifting in and out of whatever was facing.

He didn’t seem as confused and out of it, but he hadn’t spoken in what felt like an uncomfortable lapse of time. If given a few more minutes to recover, his senses would probably be back to where they’d been before, probably.

Placing a hoof on his shoulders, Neuro looked directly into his eyes hoping that somewhere in the boy’s mind, he was processing what he was about to say. “Alright, you look well enough to leave. But before you go, I want you to do something for me.”

Alistair robotically nodded his head, the sedative still giving enough control of his weak conscious.

“I want you to forget what we did today. I want you to only remember that we talked causally, ok? I want you to forget. Ok? Forget. Forget. F-O-R-G-E-T. Can you do that for me?”

He bobbed his head once more. “I will forget,” he said flatly, his normal lively tone being replaced with one that was not his own.

“Good,” said Neuro as he patted him gently on the shoulder. “Now why don’t you get going? Our time together is over. But before you do…” He grabbed something off the top of his desk and then quickly handed it to Alistair. “Take this before you go, it’ll help with your mind.”

It was a simple blue bill he’d given to him, no designs or significant features about it, only the simplicity of chalky vitamin-like pill. Without hesitation, Alistair tossed the medicine into his mouth and chewed slowly.

Urging him to leave, Neuro made sure he’d swallowed the pill before he opened the office door for him. Gesturing out to the corridor, Alistair nodded at Neuro one last time and stepped out into the hallway. Without another word, Professor Neuro Paraprax shut the door behind him.

Turning around, Alistair made sure that the door had been shut fully and he no longer was being observed in any shape or form. Confirming this, he pressed both his hands into his bright jean pockets and strolled down the silent red carpeted hallway, his strides long and harsh against the floor. He held a determination about himself as he walked, feeling a sense of urgency he had not felt since almost being kidnapped a few months prior.

He thinks I forgot spoke his conscious bitterly. Thinks he’s going to get off scot free while I bumble around none the wiser that he did anything to me. He turned around and glared back at the door, a considerable distance already separating them. We’ll see about that.

A Farewell

Neuro stared towards the now shut door, his ears twitching upon his head as they listened intently for any further noise behind it. Hearing nothing, he let out a painful sigh of despair.

Alistair was gone, straight out of his well furnished office and waiting room, and probably never to return to it again. Rolling this over in his mind once more, another weakening twinge hit Neuro again, this one burning more than the last.

He felt strangely sad, and he had no idea why. At least, he couldn’t think of any reason that made sense to him. Yes, he’d conversed with the boy about some pretty touchy subjects, yes; he’d manipulated him more than once, yes; he may have even drugged him forcibly, but he’d been expecting all these things to happen. He knew that maybe, just maybe, he would’ve had to resort to what he did, but after actually performing the deed…he didn’t feel well.

Hanging his head lowly, the orange furred Professor slowly walked over to his desk and plopped himself down in the aged leather swivel chair he’d had since earning his first professorate in anything. Sitting still for just a moment, he hoped back out of the chair and began to pace around the room once more.

“It had to be done,” he murmured out loud while moving around his office in a rapid circle. “Celestia knows he wouldn’t have told me willingly, and then where would we be? No where, that’s where. That invaluable information would be lost to the ages, and the truth would then be impossible to find.”

“I did what no pony else was willing to do. What no other scholar would ever even think of attempting. Instead of sitting back and letting him keep his secrets, I was able to obtain them quickly, and with the least amount of struggle.”

He let that last bit hang in the air, feeling a sense of hypocrisy in it. True, no excessive pain had been enacted on Alistair, but the dimensional transportation tome which he almost performed more than likely had put a toll on his frame. And no doubt the aggressive injection of Neuro’s mysterious drug cocktail had injured the boy further. But those were minor altercations, as Neuro tried to tell himself, unavoidable occurrences that he never could have gotten around no matter how hard he tried.

And yet…he still felt a wave of shame crash against himself the more and more he thought this. He knew he was responsible for whatever happened to the boy, and he knew that no upstanding Renaissance stallion would ever stoop to such level, and he knew, deep down, that what he had done, was wrong.

“Oh Celestia…” he mumbled hopelessly while covering his face with his hooves. “What have I done?” His mouth began to quiver, feeling smaller and smaller by the minute. “I…hurt a child, an innocent child…and…”

He looked dismally at his hooves, feeling an un-washable filth about them that he would never be able to cleanse.

Looking back toward the shut door, he uttered a single whisper to where Alistair had once stood.

“I’m so sorry.”

He felt something warm and watery drip against the edge of his cheek, followed by another drop. Smiling shakily, he sat back down at his desk and waited for the day to be over.

By the time he made it back to his flat, it was already late into the night with little flurries of snow beginning to grace themselves down onto the winding Canterlot streets. Unlocking the door hastily, Neuro pushed himself into the equally disheveled apartment of his that matched his University office to a tee.

Closing the door behind him, he walked into his bedroom and quickly came back out with a moderately sized leather suitcase. Flipping it open atop his small kitchen counter, he whizzed around the small enclosed space looking for the necessary items.

Books, toothbrush, toothpaste, spare paper, a few manila folders, extra pencils and a scarf all where haphazardly thrown into the gaping maws of the suitcase. Looking down at it, he felt as if he was missing something then briefly laughed at himself.

That’s everything you fool, he teased himself. What, do you think you need a coat? Some boots? Gloves?

“Heck no,” he mumbled to himself. The mere thought of throwing any extra layers on to his equine physique, no matter how cold where he was going, seemed like an utterly nonsensical notion. He’d never understood why certain ponies insisted on wearing unnecessary garments, typically mares for that matter. It’s not like he was going to freeze to death, he had fur for crying out loud.

Closing the suitcase shut, he it placed over by the edge of the door, ensuring he would not forget to bring it with him when he left early the next morning. Don’t want a repeat of last time.

Now, feeling readily prepared, Neuro trotted over to his kitchen and yanked out a cider bottle from the cabinet. He brought it with him over to his comfortable leather sofa and sat down. Yanking the top off with his hoof, he drank casually from the bottle as he stared out through one of the windows he forgot to put the shades over.

He watched the small snow follicles flutter to the earth for about an hour until his head felt heavy and his eyelids felt even heavier. Slowly pushing himself up off the coach, he slowly dragged himself into his bedroom and collapsed atop his bed, not even bothering to drape the covers over himself.

Another Sour Taste

“C’mon, he might be getting away!” shouted Alistair as he sprinted through the hallways of the University of Canterlot, his arms pumping mechanically in tune with his long and rapid strides.

Twilight Sparkle was farther behind him, gasping for air as she desperately tried to keep up. Her face was pinched and red with exertion, and her hooves were beginning to waver against the carpeted floor she bolted across.

Alistair whizzed by a chatting pair of mares and nearly toppled the large stacks of books they held beside them. Shouting in anguish, he ignored their rude retorts and continued along his way.

Rounding another corner while skidding along the soles of his shoes, Alistair came to a halt in front of a plain looking wooden office door. Inscribed along a metallic plaque to the right of the door was: Office of Professor Neuro Paraprax PHD.

“Neuro,” growled Alistair as he glared harshly at the name, the closest representation he could find of the colt.

Throwing open the door as hard as he could, he slowly stepped into the office waiting room and peered around for the Professor. The room was empty, save for a few vacant black benches, and the dastardly stallion’s nasally Balitmare secretary, who now looked at him behind her desk, half with confusion and half with unease.

“Profesa Paraprax duzzn’t have an appointment with ya’ today,” she blurted desperately.

“I’m sorry then,” called Alistair sarcastically as he hopped over her desk quickly and landed by the door to the Professor’s office. “I won’t take up much of his time.” The secretary squawked another retort, nearly incomprehensible through her growing exasperation and grating accent. He ignored it with a satisfying disposition.

Flinging the connecting door open, he stared down at the last chamber that separated him from the Professor. It was a long cardinal carpeted walkway, one that seemed to stretch itself for miles ahead, with large identical windows to the right which were all equally opened and positioned to the outside.

One would have to marvel why the Professor had insisted on this peculiar decoration design, one that served no conceivable purpose than to be stared it. In truth, that section of the University had formerly belonged to the Alchemy Department, the necessity for stretching hallways in the distillation of potions could be anypony’s guess.

Needless to say, the hallway’s purpose now seemed to be just another obstacle in Alistair’s way, one he was confident to bound over without any significant effort.

Picking up his pace, he dashed down the long walkway, even swifter than his speed in University’s main hallway earlier. He felt a surge of energy course through his veins as he saw the windows, with gleaming afternoon sunlight coming through, whizz past him and his jolting arms.

Seeing the door approach into his line of sight, he smiled to himself with giddy anticipation. Leaping into the air with his already impressive speed propelling him, he outstretched his right leg into a kick, tactically aimed at the door.

He sailed into the weaker section and felt it satisfyingly shatter under the crushing force of his heel. The latches on the door’s side snapped abruptly like firecrackers and the entire door flung open in a single swinging action.

The impact sent him sprawling to the floor, but no sooner did he hit the ground, was he already pushing himself back onto his feet.

Stepping over the door, which had fallen flat to the ground, Alistair searched the small space intently, cocking his head slightly towards the ceiling as his eyes moved back and forth appraisingly.

Suddenly, a frigid chill spread along his spine, and his face began to pale.

“Alistair!” wheezed Twilight as she slowly shuffled to him, her face contorted but still content that she’d finally caught up with him. “What’s the matter with you? Why is the Professor’s door smashed?”

Alistair remained silent as he continued to search the room franticly, his eyes flashing to and fro every available space he could see. The chill in his body grew.

“Hold up der!” called the secretary, who now was also running down the seemingly endless hallway to meet where he and Twilight stood. “Ya’ didn’t lemme finish!”

Alistair turned around, his face drained of all color as he clenched his fists tightly in anxiety. “Where’s the Professor?” he asked weakly, trying to embellish his words with whatever strength he had left.

“That’s what I wuz gonna say,” said the secretary with an aggravation, that only came from one not being listened to. “I wuz gonna tell ya’ that the Professor isn’t gonna be in for awhile. He was asked ta’ join a research group in tha’ Griffon Kingdom. Won’t be back for a few months now. Left justa few days ago.”

Some heavy and painful dropped into Alistair’s stomach, something that choked up his throat, and something that tickled the ends of his eyes. He felt his face begin to quiver uncontrollably, and he knew all to well what that meant. Hanging his head down, he took off running, with not even a glance back.

“Alistair!” yelled Twilight as she began after him once again. “Wait!”

Alistair sat on the steps of the University auditorium, the bright afternoon sun shinning down on his hanging head. Winter was still rearing its ugly face around for the time being, and even as the months seemed to progress, the ugly chill still held in the air.

His cheeks were red raw, the brown canvas coat around his torso not completely keeping his body warm. If he’d been wearing his old mud-colored cloak, the one he’d had since coming to Equestria, he knew its swooping fabric would have encapsulated and shrouded his entire body easily, but he’d been hesitant to ever cover himself once more in its musty embrace for reasons he could not comprehend.

Needless to say he was ill prepared, all thoughtful articles to his winter attire, mittens, hat, scarf, had been disregarded as he made his mad dash to the University (with Twilight in close pursuit) not even two hours earlier.

Lotta’ good that did, he sardonically thought.

Looking out towards the homely snow topped campus of the University of Canterlot, he sighed knowing that he’d be leaving it soon.

Suddenly, he could hear a faint voice calling out to him repeatedly, its volume increasing with each passing call. Knowing all too well who it was, he cursed under his breath. The solitude he’d been longing for wasn’t coming anytime soon, but today did not seem like a day were he’d get his way.

“Alistair!” called Twilight Sparkle once more as she jogged over to him, panting and clutching for breathe all the way but not as pinched as before. “Thank goodness I found you! I ran practically halfway around the University looking for you.” She stood a few paces away from him, taking notice of his lack of acknowledgement. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah…” he managed lamely, “something is.”

“Well—” said Twilight as she sat down close to him, “why don’t we talk about it then?”

“No!” moaned Alistair as he scrambled to his feet and moved a few steps down from Twilight. “I don’t want to talk about it; I just want to leave, to go home and forget this trip ever happened.

Twilight shrugged. “It’s not going to be over with until you talk about whatever is bothering you. That’s what the Princess once told me.”

“You don’t get it!” shouted Alistair as he turned around abruptly, his finger pointed firmly towards her in accusation. “You don’t know what that stallion did! What he almost got me to do and what he’s gotten away with. You have no idea what you’re even talking about!”

“Then enlighten me,” she retorted sternly, standing up as well from the steps. “Instead of telling me what I don’t understand, make me understand.”

Alistair’s eyes began to quiver and he quickly covered one of them with his palm, as his face began to slip back into the state it had been earlier. He felt a tear roll down his face from the unshielded eye, but did his best to respond with out completely breaking into sobs.

“He drugged me, that’s what he did. Manipulated me, fooled me, got me to listen him, and I told him every single thing he wanted to know. Played his little game just like he wanted me to. And then…”

“And then what?” asked Twilight quietly, her eyes wide with concern.

“He stabbed me with something, some kind of drug. It did something to my mind, lowered my defenses. Got me to do whatever he told me. He wanted to see the spell, the dimensional one, the one that brought me here—”

He reached out and grabbed Twilight’s shoulders with both arms, his face frozen in wordless terror. “I almost did it, I almost performed the tome. If it wasn’t for some last minute intervention, something breaking through in my mind, then the spell would have been complete.”

“And what would happen then?” said Twilight, unsettled by his rapid shift in mood, an action that was typically reserved for those classified as “mad”.

His face paled. “I would leave, and I never want to leave, not ever again. I don’t want to be lost, to be without a home, to not have a way back…never.”

He slowly lifted his hands off of Twilight and left them hanging horizontally in front of himself. Staring at them a moment, he quickly jammed them into his canvas jacket’s pockets, and awkwardly moved away from Twilight, his back once again turned away from her.

They stood like this for a moment, silent to each other with nothing but the occasionally whirling wind to fill the void. Twilight pondered what had just been told, and slowly approached Alistair, speaking to him gently.

“I think I understand now. You’re frustrated that he got away, that, as of now, there’s no way for him to get punished.” She paused. “You want justice.

He turned back to her. “Not quite. He could return to this University, but what happens then? I accuse him? Call in the Royal Guards? There’s no proof except for my word. Any evidence of his actions have more than likely been cleared out and disposed of. And even if we were able to set up a case, who’d try to argue against one of the most intelligent ponies in Equestria?”

Alistair sighed. “It’s not just that he got away that’s bothering me. It’s the fact that he planned for this, was able to calculate out every single meticulous detail, and not once was I able to pick up on it. I fell right into his trap just like he expected me to.”

“You can’t predict everything,” consoled Twilight. “Expecting to always be one step ahead is a pretty silly notion. It just sets yourself up for disappointment.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he said bitterly. “The bad guy won, and we lost. No two ways to get around it.”

Twilight placed her hoof on his shoulder. “Then get around it one way by accepting the situation, there’s nothing we can change about it.”

Alistair looked down at the ground and grumbled to himself. “I just hope we got our hands on him someday. Soon, preferably.”

“We can speak further about this later,” calmed Twilight. “For now, we have more important things, such as getting back to the hotel to pack. The train to Ponyville comes later tonight and I doubt you’d want to spend another night here.”

He sighed. “I guess we should get going then?”

Twilight smiled. “You read my mind.”

Epilouge

Several weeks later, as the chill of the winter and the past months events still hung abrasively in the air, the mail arrived as was per usual on that particular Tuesday afternoon. Alistair, being the only one home at the time, got up from listening to a few of Twilight’s gramophone records and approached the front hallway door.

Nearing the door’s mail slot, he scooped the postal contents up off the floor and carried them back over into the front library atrium. Sitting back down on his niche on the floor, as the record player continued to play “State Ceremony”; he casually flipped through the mail.

Most of the envelopes were either advertisements, bills, or flyers, all of which he tossed into a small pile in front of him. The last letter in his hand though, appeared different, with a shinier outer layering and little indentations no deeper than a tack point around the creases. The letter didn’t appear to have a return address, but had Twilight Sparkle’s address written neatly in exceptional penmanship.

Odd.

Taking one of the sealed ends with the tip of his fingernail, he gradually tore the envelope open without much grace and unfolded the equally well written letter inside. It read:

Dear Alistair,

I’m sorry that I had to make such a hasty exit after our time together was finished, but I had both of our best interests in mind. I knew if I stuck around any longer you would have reported me no matter what I told you, but now that time has worked its magic, I believe we can discuss this in a much more relaxed manner.

I’d like to say I’m sorry, my actions were not wholly justified (as I formerly thought they were) and I can only pray that somewhere inside yourself, you can forgive me. I’m not going to try and convince you of my actions, but I would like to explain them.

Never, in any way, shape, or form did I intend to harm. The tranquilizer I gave you was the only forced assertion taken upon you, and I made the utmost care when administering it to be as painless as possible. My actions, while being far from honest, were solely for the pursuit of knowledge regarding your transfer to our current realm, nothing more.

I don’t want to keep on hiding all the way up here in this ice box, but I truly don’t feel comfortable telling you this in person. This is difficult to express through ink and paper, but I truly do feel ashamed of my actions, and speaking with you once again…would be difficult.

I hope we can someday meet together so I can fully explain myself like a true gentlecolt, but until that day arrives, this is next best thing. You are a truly extraordinary young man Alistair, and I want you to remember that for as long as you can. With best wishes, I hope we will see each other soon.

Sincerely,

Professor Neuro Paraprax

Alistair stared placidly back at the letter, which he now held firmly in his hand. The thought of crinkling up the paper and stomping on it crossed his mind, but he couldn’t garner enough hatred towards the letter which, at the moment, was the closest thing he had to Neuro being there in the flesh.

But that didn’t seem right to him, desecrating the offer of friendship Neuro had set across to him, who’d put in the effort (both physically and emotionally) to apologize for something he felt responsible for. There was respect in the action, and Alistair felt it the more and more he rolled it around in his head.

Neuro had tried his hardest to crack an age old secret that no pony else was willing to share. He stepped up, disregarded his own well-being, and risked the consequences all in the pursuit of, not himself, but knowledge.

And in the end, he’d failed, with absolutely nothing to legitimately justify his plight to anypony that understood. He had to live, not only with failure, but also with the guilt of what he’d done to Alistair, and in no way would he ever be able to take back his actions. Neuro didn’t deserve to be arrested, he at least deserved to be left alone, and maybe forgiveness could work its power somewhere along the way.

Alistair nodded and folded the piece of paper into his pocket. Reaching over to the gramophone, he positioned the needle to start “State Ceremony” from the beginning once more. Just as the first section of trumpets blasted away as the tune began, Alistair whispered his response.

“Apology accepted.”

Introduction

ALISTAIR: BOOK IIITHERE AND BACK AGAIN

It is a most unusual time in the history of Equestria. After nearly a generation of silence, a lone human has finally arrived within the nation’s borders, ending the mysterious absence of inter-dimensional activity that had lasted for nearly fifty years.

Discovering the human, dying and unconscious along the road, Twilight Sparkle took it upon herself to nurse and care for him once he was recuperated back to health. However, the decision to continue to care for the human prevailed in her mind and thus, he continues to live in her humble abode of Ponyville.

One month later, while still unfamiliar to the new world around him, the young human by the name of Alistair, was targeted by a mysterious organization bent on his capture for reasons unknown. Escaping from their clutches with the help of Twilight Sparkle and his two recently met companions, Commodore Blip and Jam-Roly-Poly, a sinister plot was evaded, allowing all to walk away unharmed.

However, knowing that the group would not be satisfied with this failure, Alistair wearily anticipates the fateful day when he will be attacked once again.

Now, months since this encounter, Alistair and Twilight Sparkle have been summoned to the University of Canterlot on request of the lead researcher in Human Studies, Professor Neuro Paraprax. Agreeing to the meeting, the two friends board an express train for Canterlot, curious to the Professor's wishes...