One Horn Too Many

He could hear the sound of the heavy rain outside, as a muffled noise that served as a background for the ticking of his old grandfather clock. His coat and scarf were draped around himself, providing an appreciable amount of heat on a colder day. A single aroma floated in the room, and one he started to crave.

Lifting a styrofoam cup of steaming dark liquid to his lips, Edward scanned his papers with a severe look on his face. It just wasn’t quite coming together.

His mouth twisted into a scowl for a short moment, as he tried to figure out what he was missing. He had found the primary sources, the lab reports were completed and detailed, he even had names; so, what was he missing?

He almost jumped, as, deep in his thoughts, he heard a loud ringing.

His phone.

“Shit, I swore I put this damnable thing on vibrate.”

Checking the caller’s i.d., Ed let out a short sigh, “Well, I suppose my dear Frenchmen has news. I hope it’s worth interrupting my blasted work.”

And news he certainly had, if he understood the excited sentence that quickly came out of his phone. “Ed, you won’t believe it!”

“What? You discovered a new way to create putrid smelling cheese?”

“Screw you, again, and my research directors has agreed to fund my project! I’m leaving for my masters in Greece in a week!”

“Greece…” Edward muttered, taking a sip of his coffee, losing himself in his thoughts. “Well that is an interesting spot to travel to. I wouldn’t mind visiting such a place of ancient wonder myself.”

“Ah! Too bad I’m the one that gets to do so, right?”

Now the frenchie sounded insufferably and uncharacteristically smug.

“Oh, cute, you’re pretending you grew a spine, how charming.”

“I see you still haven’t tried pretending you’re not an asshole, how typical.”

“I like me, so of course I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

“Strangely, you seem to be the only one with such a deep appreciation of yourself. I wonder why.”

“Probably, because I’m too sophisticated for their weak palettes.”

On the other side of the line, an obnoxiously loud laugh started echoing. For the first few moments, he could simply roll his eyes, but, as the laughter continued, he started to feel annoyed.

“Oh, what happened?” he asked with a falsely concern tone. “Did you look outside and realized you’re still in France?”

“Yes, yes,” Pierre snorted, still giggling. “That must be it.”

“I’m glad you're big enough to admit you live in the most pathetic land in the world.”

“Oh, you condescending limey, I’m the one that gets to go to the place you wanted to visit, because MY country funds research.”

“You also realize that, right now, Greece is in the middle of a civil war right?”

“Details,” Pierre said, and Edward could easily imagine him shrug. “I’m not going to fight anyone.”

“But, that means nothing to the Nazi totalitarians that want to border off all outside traffic.”

There was a breathy sound, akin to a long suffering sigh on the other end of the line. “... Edward, you’re an asshole in every possible meaning of the word.”

“I love you too, mate.”

“Enjoy loving me in rain country of the decrepit monarchy while I go see the ancient civilization that gave us democracy.”

“Yes democracy, and now it’s under a dictatorship, see how that works?" His gaze went to his window, passing over the wet rooftops of the city slowly. "But I digress, who said I wasn't on to yonder pasture, my good sir?”

There was a long silence on the line, during which he knew the realization was sinking in. “...What?”

“I’ll see you at the airport.”

“No.” He heard the word come out harsher than he had ever heard whispered from Pierre. “No, no, no. You are not doing this to me.”

“Yes!” he replied all too evilly, perfectly capable of seeing the angry snarl, as if his friend was right in front of him.

“FUCK YOU, EDWARD!”

The line went dead, but Edward didn’t feel like caring about that. Not with how hard he was grinning. Time to plan a little trip to Greece.

“This is going to be fun!”

--

The wooden door swung open, swiftly enough to startle them, and behind it, one lone alicorn princess looked to them happily.

“Welcome back,” she greeted them, then moved out of the doorframe, an inviting hoof stretched toward the inside of the library. “Was the tour fun?”

“Yes, it was.” Pierre nodded, hoping to make a better impression this time. “Thank you.”

“If you call Mr.Grumpy here complaining the entire time fun, then yes, by all means, it was a blast.”

“Shut up...”

“Oh, I’m glad to see you both seem to feel better,” Twilight deadpanned. Clearly, things were going well if they were bickering. Still, her tone turned apologetic quickly. “I do want to say how sorry I am for the rough treatment you received because of my suspicions...”

“Yeah, ‘cause calling us changelings is clearly the norm around here,” Ed muttered, crossing his forehooves in annoyance.

“Don’t mind him, Princess.” Pierre smiled sheepishly, trying to get her to focus on him rather than his friend. “We can understand why you did it.”

Apologetic, Twilight closed the door after them. On edges because of her less than forgiving guest, she could not hold in a nervous chuckle. “Hehe… t-thank you. A-and I’m still really sorry.”

Edward merely huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t understand a single crazy convoluted thing that’s happened all day.”

A few steps ahead of him, Pierre whispered something, but quietly enough that Twilight could not pick up its meaning. If anything, it sounded… bitter.

Her heartbeat quickening with that realization, she decided to lead them toward her private quarters, on the basis it would be more comfortable than the library itself.

Neither bicorn raised an objection, though Edward still appeared unpleased. Following her, they trotted upstairs, somewhat clumsily, and reached Twilight’s bedroom.

It stood as they remembered it. Her bed occupied most of the space, but between her mirror and its stand, there was more than enough place to accommodate three ponies. Quickly, however, their host’s horn started to glow with renewed magic, as a trio of pillows floated from a closet and fell in a simple triangle.

“Hum, if it isn’t too much trouble, I would like to ask you a few questions, in general.” She started turning around to fetch her notebooks, but froze in midstep and swiftly looked back to them. “N-nothing like an interrogation, I promise! I just want to know more about you two.”

Sighing, the brit nodded slowly. “I see no reason why not. It’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“Excellent, this will just be a few basic questions, so please take your time.” Twilight smiled, clapping her hooves together in approval.

Clumsily, they attempted to sit down on the cushions provided, but Pierre missed and hit his coccyx painfully. While Edward chuckled at the clear lack of agility in play, Twilight winced in sympathy.

“Are you hurt?” she immediately asked.

“Just in my pride.”

An awkward silence fell between the three of them, only broken by the occasional shift on their seats.

“So... how about we begin with your names? After all they are, hummm, a bit unorthodox, no offense meant, of course.” Twilight assured, turning to the maroon stallion in front of her, before continuing to her point quickly, as to not insult her interviewees. “Pierre? That’s Prench, right?”

“Well, French is the word we use, but yeah.”

“So…” Her voice trailed off, as her gaze went upward. A soft humming then escaped her mouth, but quickly came to a halt when she looked down again, confidently pointing at his form. “Your name would be Street Rock, right?”

“No.” Pierre scowled, suddenly stern. “No, it’s not. Not even close.”

“Oh...” she muttered, her ears lowering in disappointment. She could have sworn she had gotten it right… And judging by her guest’s reaction, it had even been offensive. “Sorry.”

Seeing that was enough to make the stallion cringe. “It’s huh… a French thing, don’t worry about it.”

He had hoped that his reassurance sufficed, but, for another few moments, none of them pronounced a word. Glancing at one another, each of them seemed to be waiting for the other two to speak up. Even then, Edward didn’t appear all that uneasy with the silence either.

“What about you?” Twilight finally turned to him, wishing she could forget her apparent misstep. “I can’t figure out what the nationality of your name is supposed to be...”

Edward took up a proud stance, puffing his chest in an arrogant display. “I’m from the United Kingdom, my dear princess.” He finished, giving an over exuberant bow, to finish his statement.

She blinked, her brain working at maximum processing speed and coming up with a list of countries that could possibly fit that bill. Fittingly, she came up with a blank and an appropriate conclusion.

“...Is that on the map?”

“Nope,” Ed answered plainly.

“So you’re from a kingdom that is not on any map?”

“No, it’s on a map, just not any map on this planet,” he drawled, rolling his eyes, at the fair princess.

“I doubt Princess Luna kept many maps on the moon,” she said in a decidedly deadpan manner, though a trace of annoyance filtered through.

“It’s not on the moon either. If I was from the moon, do you really think Luna wouldn’t have mentioned moon ponies?” Edward quipped back cheerily.

“She was sealed IN the moon, she wouldn’t have known!”

Laughing, he sent her a mocking look. “Hahahahaha! Hey, if I had a bunch of ponies jumping on top of my prison, I’m pretty sure I’d-.”

“EDWARD, JUST SHUT UP!” Pierre roared, both in fear of him pissing off their primary chance of going home and in defense of his favorite character, incidentally. Then, breathing deeply, he turned back to their host. “Princess Twilight… We weren’t kidding when we said we’re not from this world.”

“Buzzkill,” Ed murmured under his breath.

“Why don’t you explain it to me then? Where are you two from? What ARE you if you aren’t bicorns?”

Grimacing, Pierre shot an hesitant look to his companion, but the glare he got in return was enough of an answer in itself. He wanted Edward to shut up, so it was his job to talk now. Nervously, he gulped down.

“Well?” Twilight asked, awaiting his explanation.

T-the words were stuck in his throat. His mouth had gone dry.

What was he hesitating for? He just… he just had to come out and say it! That was all he had to do! Just a few little words and that would be it!

“We’re humans!”

Silence.

Twilight simply tilted her head to the side curiously.

And Pierre could only stare back, still shaking down to his hooves. But none of his greater fear came to pass.

“Or, we were, before that blasted statue did this,” Edward added as a bitter afterthought.

“That would be rather difficult to accomplish though,” Twilight said, amused. “The mirror will not open up the portal for another fourteen months. And the last time it was opened was sixteen months ago.”

“H-huh, we weren’t from that reality, Princess,” Pierre stammered quickly, cringing at Edward’s sudden scowl.

“No, of course not. You were from a different reality also inhabited with humans.”

“Why can’t you just realize, lass, we are telling the truth? Why in the name of all that is decent would we make this up?” Ed groaned, rubbing his face in between his hooves.

“Right, right,” Twilight replied, turning around to take a note, and whispered. “Plausibility derived from the impossibility of the claims.”

“Twilight, we get that you’re a mare of reason, but right now, there are two stallions here that don’t belong. Mostly because we aren’t stallions,” the now irritated limey exclaimed, motioning between himself and his companion.

Humming to herself, she nodded patiently. Her quills continued to scribble on the scroll next to her. If they had been telling her about the fascinating life cycle of the common mosquito, it was likely her interest would have been less faked.

Pierre stared at her, discountenanced. Ears flattened, almost backing away, he didn’t seem to see Twilight in the same light anymore. A slight shaking took over his limbs.

He remained silent.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look into it,” Twilight decided, bringing up her own agenda and adding a few words in an empty space.

Finishing with her menial tasks, she believed it would be more prudent to move on, if not to calm the room’s nerves, even only a little.

“You two will be staying in Ponyville for quite a while, correct?”

“We’re not leaving until you come back with some answers for us, Twilight,” Edward told her firmly, and, for once, Pierre agreed wholeheartedly.

That was the one thing on which they would not compromise. Their futures were at stake here. So, on that issue, they were united and facing a princess head on.

Their answer was delayed longer than they would have expected, the princess lacking the foresight of a rebuttal, or the need for one at this point either.

“Oh, of course,” Twilight finally told them, her tone still a touch unconvinced. “Well, I’ve taken the liberty of renting a hotel room for the two of you. Think of it as an apology for the less than savoury cell you had to visit.”

“Thanks...” They replied, a little hesitant.

“The Golden Stables. Have you seen it yet?” Seeing as they shook their head, Twilight quickly scribbled a note and made it burst into a flash of pink light. “Alright, this should take care of things. Just head to the North of the Plaza, it’s very easy to find.”

“If you say so. Hotel beds never really feel as comfortable as your own. But I suppose beggars can’t be choosers, especially when the beggar is from another world altogether.” Edward sighed, slowly scuffing a hoof against the floor tiredly.

“Well, it’s decided then,” she declared, officially. “I’ve sent everything ahead of you, so you don’t need to worry.”

Still feeling as if they were missing something important, the two bicorns nonetheless waved her goodbye and wished her a good day, Edward less sincerely than he could have. In the end, they would not protest too hard at getting a paid stay at a nice hotel. It would give them time to regroup and unscramble their thoughts a bit.

They did not manage to take more than a few steps outside the library before bumping into an armored chest.

“What are you doing here?” Pierre asked Chainmail, as he rubbed the tip of his now sensitive muzzle.

“I’ve been assigned to your protection,” the guard said, puffing his chest proudly.

Edward stared back blankly. “Our…?”

“...Protection?” Pierre completed his friend’s thought.

“Great,” the brit grumbled. “Right when I thought we were finally freed from armored stalkers.”

More worrisome even was Chainmail’s complete lack of reaction at the insult. It slid off his back completely, a benevolent smile showing instead. His eyes shone with an almost paternal light, a fact that showed in his protective stance over them. “Please, follow me. I’ve already been instructed as to where to lead you both.”

Reluctantly, glancing at each other, they followed him, albeit staying at a reasonable pace behind. It was enough to make him frown at them, but not enough to bother them about it. That was more or less what they wanted at the moment.

As soon as Chainmail’s attention went back to their destination and the path to use, the two leaned closer to each other.

“He’s not going to lead us to a hotel…” Pierre whispered, keeping a close eye on their guardian angel ahead. “Definitely the asylum...”

“If he thinks he can put me in a cage, he will have a face full of horns to fend off first.” Edward lowered his head slightly, nostrils flaring.

“Seeing as he’s a trained guard, I don’t think it’ll be that much of a problem.”

“I highly doubt this fool is any more trained than a mall cop.”

“We haven’t even managed to run successfully yet, Ed. You’re more likely to headbutt the ground!”

“I put that completely on you, my friend. If we never bother to fight back, we will be doomed anyway.”

On the verge of protesting, Pierre stopped, ears drooping down. “Point.”

Resting a hoof on the discouraged stallion, Edward sighed, looking ahead of them at their warden.“If nothing, we do need some sort of plan.”

“Right...” Pierre mumbled, glancing down with a pensive frown on his face. “Well, how about we start things off by lulling the guard into a sentiment of false security and then...”

Edward quickly picked up the slack, first coming up with a rather interesting counterattack. Mulling it over, they accepted that step, and went on to the next one, which, of course, had to be more extreme to be appropriate. So, as they walked, their ideas hit both a practicality and reasonability snag.

“...And that's when we hit him with the watermelon.” Edward hit both of his front hooves together for emphasis, before dropping back on all four legs.

“Wait, I thought the watermelon came before that,” Pierre interjected.

“We’ve arrived,” Chainmail announced, cutting them off their planning.

Edward’s reply died in his throat, as both bicorns turned simultaneously forward, and thus realized that they were standing in the entrance of what appeared to be a hotel. Apprehensive, the two examined their surroundings, trying and failing to spot a trap of any kind. If this were an asylum, then it seemed like a very well maintained, luxurious and cozy asylum. Red carpets, silk curtains, decorated chandelier, the whole decoration existed only to clash with the very idea of a nice little countryside place like Ponyville.

Blinking, they mechanically followed the guard further inside toward the reception desk. Chainmail seemed only amused by their bewilderment.

“Well, I’m thoroughly confused. Any thoughts, Pierre?” Edward mused, turning and nugging his emotional companion.

Unfortunately, the shock had an even greater effect on him. “W-whaaaaaa…? B-b-but… this is a hotel!”

“Of course it is, where else would I have brought you?” Chainmail asked, after turning and viewing his two shellshocked charges.

“The mad house!” Pierre instantly replied. “At least it would have made sense!”

“I’m sorry, but why in the name of Celestia would I do that?” the soldier gasped in surprise at the response he received.

Before Pierre could attempt to list reasons in favor of their admittance to any medical treatment center in the vicinity, Edward’s hoof roughly pushed him backward and made him stumble on his rump.

“I would thank you very much, not to get us declared crazy, mime boy,” he said, right as Chainmail attempted to go help his friend stand.

“You two must be long-time friends,” he told him in bemusement at their antics, watching Edward examine the paintings on the wall and declare them poor. “Let me guess, you two were from the same herd?”

“Mon Dieu, non.” Pierre quickly shook his head in horror. Oh, the thought of being related to Edward in any way just made him shiver. “We just… met, some time ago.”

“I could have sworn...” Chainmail shrugged, motioning for his charge to follow him.

Quickly, the sound of Edward’s hoofsteps joined their progression, and they made it to the front desk, where a blue mare with a pink mane sat.

“How may I help you?” she asked, keeping her smile inviting and professional.

“Princess Sparkle has made a reservation earlier today.” Chainmail leaned over the counter, pointing to the two stallions behind him. “I believe it was a two beds room on the second floor.”

To her credit, she did not even so much as twitch when the species of her clients became obvious. As a receptionist in a Ponyville hotel, she had to control her expressions perfectly. And Celestia knew how many oddity she was given to see.

In little time, she had found the note magically sent by the resident princess, with a purse containing the exact amount of bits needed for the two bicorns’ stay. Clearly, somepony had done her research on the Golden Stables before making her choice.

“Ah, here it is,” she exclaimed, placing a set of keys over the register. “You have been given Room 206, on the West aisle. Do you need somepony to show you the way?”

“No thank you, Miss,” Chainmail replied with a confident grin. “We’ll be able to find it on our own.”

Wordlessly, the two bicorns moved after him, a nagging thought still making them wonder if this could be an elaborate ruse to get them imprisoned. Though, they had to admit, this would be quite the prison to be stuck in. The atmosphere of grandeur only increased with each step.

The stairs only tripped them four or five times, at most. And no, they did not trip on the giant flower pots in the hallways before getting to the door with the appropriate number.

“I’ll be standing in the corridor if you need me,” Their guide pointed to a spot nearby with his rusty orange hoof. “But the room is soundproof. So, if there is anything you need, you’ll have to open the door beforehoof, got it?”

“You know, you might as well die right away. You’ll starve to death before we call you,” Edward stated with one last glare, slamming the door behind him.

Well, he thought, at the very least, our room is decent.

For a moment, his gaze simply followed the tasteful furnitures filling what was to be their place to rest for the time being. Certainly, his friend was a bit of a sore sight in such an environment, his coat almost merging with the rest of the room’s colors, but it was not all that bad. Besides, Pierre didn’t seem keen on staying standing for much longer.

As predicted, he let out a long sigh and dropped down on his bed, not even bothering with the covers. Eyes half-closed, he rolled on his back, staring at the decorated ceiling of their bedroom. Albeit his breathing remained calm and steady, a tension danced underneath the surface. His thoughts were a jumbled mess.

He barely noticed when Edward sat down near the window, his gaze still on the streets below. “I know you’ve been holding it in all day. So, just go ahead, let it out, but don’t scre-.”

“HORSES! HORSES!” Pierre threw his legs in the air, shaking all over. “WE’RE HORSES!”

Edward rolled his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath at the excessive noise produced when he was just as drained from these events than his friend. So, he used the method he probably would have used anyway, but with a bit more enthusiasm.

The smacking sound of a slap cut through the panicked screams like butter, and a blinking maroon stallion was left massaging one half of his face. A stinging hoof-shaped area on his cheek throbbed with pain.

“We’re more like goats, bro.”

“Die in a fire,” Pierre hissed darkly.

“Rational retort, my dear friend, because you are perfectly capable of dealing with this problem alone.”

“Like you are?” he shot back, snorting in disbelief. “You’ve been taking shots at everyone that doesn’t roll over for you.”

Unfazed, Edward rolled his eyes. “I’m still a tad more calm than you are at this time. Attacking me serves as little point as whining about the situation at hand.”

“It’s great stress-relief though.”

“So is me slapping the piss out of you.”

“Enfoiré,” Pierre mumbled, burying his head in his pillow.

With a casual shrug, Edward left his friend to his sulking, in favor of a few books he had noticed underneath their bedside tables. Picking them all up in a pile, without even knowing how he managed that feat, he went back to the far side of the room. The work table that awaited him there would do nicely. He simply needed to… balance these...

After a few minutes of worldless struggle, the surface of the desk had become littered with books. It was certainly annoying, but the important thing was that they were opened and he had access to their content!

In any situation, it always paid off to gather some information beforehoof. And he had a feeling they would need it.

--

The large set of ornate doors slowly fell shut, behind the departure of Celestia’s last tenant. The day court had been, once more, an exhausting duty, and she would have been relieved of its end, if not for another piece of news she had received. At first, the sight of the characteristical sparks of dragonfire mail had made her heart warm, but that warmth left her quickly. The inked words certainly spoke of a most important situation. Two mysterious bicorns arriving from seemingly nowhere, and saying they hailed from another world, worried the solar princess greatly. If the two stallions were not within the known selection of Bicorns, then where had they come from? And why had she not known about it sooner?

Perhaps, as her student had speculated, they indeed were from a neighboring nation. At a first glance, it seemed like the obvious answer. Unfortunately, she knew for a fact that it was rather unlikely. The populations outside of her kingdom had blended in with the other tribes and disappeared outright.

If the answer to this question was not mundane, then there would only one other being in her castle that could bring light to this.

Sighing, she stood, resolve shining in her eyes. The idea did not please her, but, at the very least, it would be instructive, one way or another.

After trotting past her guards, allowing them to follow her through her short journey, she followed the path leading to the object of her inquiry.

Opening the door to Discord’s personal suite within the palace, Celestia was met with a sensation of disorientation. Her sight had momentarily blurred and spirals of yellow and black had emerged in a tidal wave of ghostly constructs singing loud opera. With a shake of her head, she advanced forward into the room, only to feel her hooves sinking half a foot into jelly.

Her delicate brows furrowed together, but she looked past the last remainders of the swirling mist. If there had been any doubt as to the owner of this suite before, they would have been destroyed with extreme prejudice by the sight that awaited one of the rulers of Equestria.

A bipedal feline walked peacefully on the jelly floor, from one end of the bright pink room to the other, where a strange device that squeaked like a mouse hid behind a larger bird that seemed to function as a clock of sorts... Celestia was almost captivated by this new, unknown intelligent lifeform, but knew enough of Discord to stay focused. She went past the miniature portable theater, the rows of dancing cacti and the philosopher penguins without a pause. No amount of inverted lollipops or broken reflections within intacts mirror could truly shake her. This was important, and she needed his knowledge, whatever madness he summoned.

Appropriately, the Draconequus himself was in the center of it all, hovering in mid air, in an upside down position.

Stepping forward and swinging the door closed behind her, the princess addressed the god of chaos. “Discord, we need to talk.”

“Oh hello Celly, how are you on this glorious day, hmmm?” He chuckled, rotating around to meet her gaze.

“Twilight recently sent me a very interesting letter, that I thought you might know something about,” Celestia commented casually, silently floating the scroll that until now had been at her side into view of the king of disharmony.

“Oh, well I always enjoy one of “Princess” Twilight’s little lessons. What’s today’s problem, disaster, calamity, cataclysm, catastrophe, debacle or mystery, and how could I possibly be to blame?” He laughed heartily, going so far as to wipe a fake tear from his eye.

Celestia merely floated the scroll closer, to which Discord happily scooped it out of the air and proceeded to quickly skim the text, mumbling unintelligible words beneath his breath. After finishing, he simply tossed the letter aside, which combusted before reaching the ground.

“I can say without a single itsy bitsy doubt.” Discord shrunk with each of his words. “I had absolutely nothing to do with this exact case of chaos,” he finished his declaration by popping back to his original size, a large grin plastered to his smug muzzle.

“You’ll forgive me, if I have a hard time believing that. You may act as if everything you’ve done is by chance or coincidence, but we all know you always have a plan in motion,” Celestia retorted cooly, never once losing her air of composure.

“Oh, come now Celestia, Plans? If I bothered with Plans, then I wouldn’t be chaos incarnate would I?” Discord reasoned, circling the princess lazily.“It was a whim! I created the Bicorns because one of those silly little rebels had the audacity to laugh at my goatee. Well, he and his thousand neighbors sure enjoyed the irony of becoming goatie themselves.”

Magenta eyes narrowed dangerously as the draconequus let out a loud laugh, amused by his own joke. Still, it did not last long, as the lack of reaction from his least favorite princess soured the humor of the situation for him.

“Oh fine, you were always such a party pooper, Celestia.” Discord rolled his eyes, dropping down on the floor for the first time since she had invaded his quarters. “No, I did not create more bicorns. Do you want me to swear? On my own head, if you so wish it.” His paws went to his neck, and with a popping noise, he lifted his head toward her. “There, satisfied? It was not me. And I’m pleasantly surprised. Can you imagine? There is someone else out there as crazy as me. Or at least... someone idle enough to challenge nature itself.”

Celestia shivered.