Spotlight of Stars

Apparently ponies had an adaptation for quite a few human terms, it was enough to make his eyes roll every time he heard another. The true gem of it was how Spate saw this through such a serious lens. From her tone on things she gave a strange impression of almost gratitude. James supposed, as they made way to a pony alien library, that most things he'd hear about from now on would fall into some kind of sense as time went on. James was suddenly much more grateful than he'd realized at the prospect of the library. Nothing should be able to quite help him piece things together like a crash course of the world he ended up in, at least enough to find worthy footing.

It was hard to imagine where to even begin his need to know, how could a likeness be drawn from his past understandings to those he'd now need? Looking over the various illustrations, busts, and general adornments the pair passed by as casually as could be, he wondered how much of what they were seeing now meant to spate. Surely not every statue or portrait he'd ever passed on Earth did he feel compelled to know. He rationalized everything only felt intimidating for now, to not let it unsettle him too deeply. He looked to Spate as she comfortably navigated a magic castle, this place made sense to her, she was ready for what had happened to him, this little horse probably even had a guess on what he was feeling right now. He missed being on that side of things, knowing, confident, so certain his next step would naturally land.

James knew she was trying, that her princesses cared, that he flew over on a wagon pulled by more of her kind, pegasi. There was a wish deep in his mind that he could make this all worth the trouble they've gone through. It was that part of him that had worked so hard back home, the need to have so that he could give. It was an easy thing to fall back on. Owing was a terrible thing for him to do, just being brought here made him feel that he owed so much; the two from before said they didn't know why or how he was here and he wanted to believe the princesses. Needed to, truly. Real distrust at this point of his stay was simply beyond what he felt capable of. Beyond an exposed window on the wall, he found it had no glass in its frame but none of the elements he'd expect from that rushing in, was the city he'd flown over on his arrival. It was easier to overlook a strange city than the halls he was in. So far away it made sense, it could be any of the many places he'd never been before.

It took a few steps for Spate to notice the man had fallen behind. Once she did her heart raced for just a moment before she saw him looking outside. Hurrying to his side her head peered over to see as he did. It was the same shining city with the same busy ponies she'd grown to know as Canterlot. Together they watched an arrayed palette of ponies live, "Do you like the city, James?"

"It's easier to look at," he shrugged, "I needed a break." She accepted the answer and they stood in silence together for a time. Eventually James shook himself back to life and looked to Spate, requesting they resumed their path. Being the current representative of humanity and being held in such regard made him want to rise to the occasion, in some way. This unbidden feeling called much of his sense of self to be called into question, his abilities evaluated and held under the sort of bareness an individual can only put themselves under. As much as he had cursed his luck at finding himself in these lands, after a brief few days to put what he could back together James found he cursed their luck as well that it was merely him they put all this effort into. Of course he recognized the lengths his limited contacts had gone to in order to ensure he understood that the opposite was true. If he could find it in himself to put this in a pretty way they'd like him to view his circumstances as a surprise, all-expense paid lifelong vacation in a sort of paradise, but it still only felt like a mistake. An idea came to him that he clung to, that what couldn't be made right may at least be made better.

In a strange way James realized he'd noticed a change in the halls, shifting from subdued regality to vibrantly intricate detailings along the floor and walls that now met in an archway overhead. Almost predictably now, another curious notion James felt, a large doorway was open before the pair. It felt freshly exposing to make that short walk through the newness of those designs of the castle and it felt as though he was spinning through all the length of the corridor until it was out of sight. Replacing the mystic hall was an equally wondrous view that James had to look away towards the floor from to keep his balance.

Won't this dizzying sense of injustice he felt ever leave? He wanted to adapt, the part of him that sought to survive needed to. The man wondered this and more as he attempted to keep in touch with Spate's attempts at patching up a chasm of ignorance. Their exchanges hadn't stopped until now since they left the cafeteria, minus the window break. He made an observation or asked a question, the pegasus expounded upon it as briefly but informatively as possible, and so much of what she said elicited at least another dozen lines of thought for James, at which he would pick what stood out most to him and the process went on. Sadly, the most relatable and important topic for him, that of his people's history here, was exhausted as quickly as it sparked. It was understandable but disappointing, how does one concisely summarize an inexplicable phenomenon that had existed since before recorded history? The most that could be done for it would be to pour over each of their personal histories, they were at the library even, but then for what?

As much as could be gleaned from the past of others, it was ever so more important to live his own life. James had no doubt he would look through his predecessors in due time but he had an increasingly anxious pegasus to help him through the now. "Hey, Spate, sorry I keep zoning out." They had arrived at the massive library moments ago and he caught himself standing in the doorway as she led the way in, gallant doors befitting the royal reading reservoir wide open to both sides in welcome for all visitors. A separate, distant part of his mind had been operating nonstop to find objective opinions for his predicament. He did not at all like the feeling it gave him but it kept him grounded and helped him recognize the obvious beauty he was now constantly surrounded with.

Only a short distance away Spate had been closely watching his response, singularly focused to analyze then orient her own internal gauges in anticipation of her expected commitment. "It's no problem, James, take all the time you need." After doing just that a few moments longer, looking up to accept the sight of fine bookshelves stacked high above, unlikely lighting of what seemed to be pure illumination woven into various shapes floating where they could shine the most, and the nearly overwhelming amount of sitting areas, he followed after her, eyes never staying in one place long but an expression she couldn't place. As much as her education had prepped for a range of circumstances, life in motion was ever the balancing act. Knowns, unknowns, feeling, instinct, experience, 'Which mattered most,' she mused. There were certainly more of some than the others for now but that didn't decide anything, only a person could, and now she was one of those ponies whose decisions meant a lot.

Without any particular study needs the mare watched his attentions hop from point to point with what she began to recognize as a now almost ever-present look of resigned disbelief. What a thing that must be, she considered, to be surrounded by too many wonders to wonder at. He followed her well enough as she made their way past a small amount of outermost seatings to an unexceptional spread of what amounted to large floor pillows. Sitting on one herself, James fell onto another, head angling higher as his mind continued to catalogue all that was revealed to it in some capacity that kept in line with its previous understandings. "James," she gently called, "What are you thinking?" While she wouldn't call his stare wide-eyed, perhaps if things weren't so dramatic it would be.

Roaming eyes once again finding her, James shrugged and sunk further into the cushion, "It doesn't make sense, I know it must to you and everyone else here, and that's some sort of comfort, but I still don't get it." He gestured up to a floating light draped across much shelving, in a shape comparable to that of a willow tree unfurling from a single point, "I understand that has to be magic, but saying everything I don't understand is magic doesn't make it feel any closer, do you know what I mean?" Leaning up on his elbows, he still reclines while addressing somepony who would not be the best at explaining magical theory, "It's like I'm floating through here with no concept of anything and I just have to... nod along and pretend I get it. I don't feel here, Spate, I don't feel like I'm anywhere."

She breathed deeply and nodded, not unfamiliar with this line of thought thanks to their Majesties schooling efforts but still at odds with the now very real need to apply the senses they tried to have honed within her. It was a simple thing to know that understanding the other side's perspective was key to peaceful relations, but try as she might it had always eluded her on how to strip away all cognitive recognition from her day to day experiences. 'What would even be left?' Is a question she found herself returning to more than anything else when Spate tried to perfectly envision what it must be like to be in a human's position on their world. To be able to fundamentally recognize the design and purpose of a bed, a tray, or a library but have no worldly way to attach any reflection of self into those designs when pitted against the currently forced metamorphosis of the old understandings dissolving, to reconstruct a new paradigm past those bare fundaments and once again build a comfortable, acceptable world-truth atop them.

As little talent as she had for words, the honest ones always had their use, "Obviously I'm not speaking from my experience, but I ask that you give it time, James. I remember that you mentioned you've flown before so I hope this comparison makes sense to you," a breath's time was given to recollect the sentiment of words she studied that a past human visitor had given to describe their own experience with this struggle, "it's sort of like jet lag, but across worlds rather than timezones." Her wings thoughtfully stretched outward and were given a roll as she thought, fore-hooves tapping into the cushion she sat on, "Now from a bit of my experience, as a pony who has teleported across a couple timezones many times and lost plenty of sleep over it, it sounds like a big adjustment, but not impossible." She hoped she wasn't belittling his plight nor that he was in such a state as to be inconsolable, though his smile gave her hope.

Looking a little more at ease James laid back to once more survey the room, "Jet lag I can understand."

Spate's ears tuned and turned but it seemed that's all he had to say for now as he went still. It was impossible to follow his eyes from this angle but she could see all the same that he could, besides maybe chewing gum under the bottoms of the desks across from him, would he know what those were? As much as the Princesses had cleared the castle of extras the diplomatic guardsmare found it strange how empty the library was, not a single curator had been visible to her on their short walk from entrance to seats. As with much the rest of the castle the worst thing that could happen was getting lost, but now Spate, at the center of this event and in an inverted exchange now out of Equestria's loop, began to recognize feeling the depth of the unknown she'd waded into gradually raising beneath her.

Past the first few impressions many ponies could be seen soaking in less and less of the impressive architecture, that went for all of Canterlot's vistas truthfully. As a young mare from a thriving coastal city Spate had some acclimation for impressive structures, nothing so bold nor royal of course; perhaps not even as impressive as what James' may be able to share, but enough for her nation's capital to not have dumbly floored her as it did so many other hopeful souls crossing through the shining gates of a higher calling. Now here she was, once more peering around the subdued, smooth constructions designed to instill a studious calm for those seeking a biblio-centric means of pastime as if it were Spate's first visit. While no pony aside from perhaps the eldest of palace librarians could say they had seen every angle of this wing, no pony ever felt the need to map such a thing either. She had marveled for a time then asked for aid to find relevant texts for her classes before moving on.

Looking to James who in all likelihood may be sleeping again she got up to stretch her legs and walk a small circle around their claimed center, hoofsteps alternating between muffled and clipping as she strode over intricate carpeting and the finest stonework. In time she reached a small goal of hers once she became within sight of the man's face once more, indeed his eyes were shut, but was he sleeping? Resting of a sort to be certain. She looked around to cross out another minor aim of hers, nopony in sight. Keeping her responsibility in sight and earshot, she continued her laps around them until she was retreading past hoofprints and leaving a ring of tracks on the surfaces able to host them.

It did Spate well to move again as busy her mind was. The piece of her attentions that watched for another pony and for any signs of need from James was a speck compared to the internal business she attempted to dutifully sort out. She wished the Princesses had direction for her, any word at all. They must have their reasons, busy with their own end of this occurrence, but they've done this before at least. Looking over to the surprise visitor an idea had come to her, she may not have done this before but neither had he. Could this be intentional? Was he a surprise if they expected him? She once more found herself fretting over unanswerable askings. Slowly she closed the rings she made and ended beside James, a forelegs reach away. He slept a lot. She had expected this as well since stress does that to people. A small routine of eating and sleeping was typical for new humans, helping them grow past that was a basic focus of those in Spate's place.

A few moments were spent in still silence as she stood over James before noticing a hovered stack of books sorting themselves away on shelves a short distance from herself. It was the first sign she had of another pony among them and so she carefully took the chance to investigate. Breaking a trace of the circle she'd ingrained from her thoughtful pacing the pegasus kept the purpose of her career in sight as she reached an aisle of shelving the books had come from. She peered down the stretch of well kept sorting but saw nopony, checking the next aisle nearer to her focus and again she found nothing. Not one to pursue a ghost hunt Spate returned to her charge and began to raise herself onto the cushion claimed earlier when she then noticed a swirling disturbance at the edge of vision down the aisle adjacent them.

On closer inspection she found who the mare looked for moments ago, a librarian, this one staring wide eyed at the resting figure ahead of him and his following cloud of literature. There was only the faint sound of flowing air as the tomes moved about before that too hushed to a still hovering stack. Gently the unicorn offered a brief bow before carefully clip-clopping further down the row he had been making way down, eventually turning away and escaping to elsewhere, books in silent tow. Spate had wanted to ask about some things here, in a way that was answer enough.

Unmoving, James spoke up, "It's funny to hear ponies walk."

Only slightly startled Spate replied, "I had noticed something similar about you as we walked here, since you wear shoes it sounded like I was walking on my own. I never considered that before. How long have you been awake?"

It looked like he had tried to raise a hand but lethargy won out, "Not sure, maybe the whole time? I think I heard you walking around a bit ago but I'm not keeping track too closely."

The mare hmm'd and offered what she could, "I had walked for a little while, not anywhere too far away, I'm not sure for how long exactly either." She looked over the narrow range covered on her search, "A librarian had come around, but they left just now, did you hear them?"

"I think so, somewhere over there?" A hand did lift this time to wave in the direction of the aisles. "I thought maybe it was you, but you had sounded so close before, and it sounded like they opened a window over there."

Giving a nod he couldn't see, Spate followed it with words, "Yes that's right, James, and that windy sound may have been the books they carried with... well, magic." As little as she wanted to continue waving the sore subject before him, magic was a deeply common fact of life here. Her decorous seating helped little with finding comfort paired with her uncertainties.

Sighing a laugh James patted his hands against the material he laid across, "I can imagine how that must have looked." A few quiet moments passed again and Spate began to think he might not say anything at all when he groaned full of weariness. Forcing himself into a more upright position he straightened his back before a set of twists coaxed out as much crackling stiffness they could. Looking over Spate with as little regard as someone might view an empty seat, his eyes settled on hers, "I thought our visit here was going to go much differently, it was weird of me to have expectations this early in the first place, wasn't it?"

"Not at all!" The prepared equine asserted, "Goals are important to have, expectations aren't so dissimilar." He was exhibiting every classic early transference symptom, as calculating it may be to analyze him in such a way it was all the more to pull him back from the spirals he teetered on. It was no small feat that he engaged with her at all so soon. Staying firmly in place, attempting to keep her body language as casual as possible, Spate kept sight of her point at the front of her mind, "You may not see the point in achievement anymore, but for what it's worth we've never known a single instance of a human leaving in a similar way to your arrival." James continued to passively focus on her, his eyes no longer jumping around since he'd sat up.

"I didn't have achievements to leave behind anyway, only family and a lot of work for nothing now." It appeared he nearly wanted to fall back again but chose the other direction at the last moment, resting his elbows above the knees, "You say I'm guaranteed to stay here, before this happened though I thought it was already a guarantee." His palms faced up in a gesture she was confident was meant as a form of urging. "I'll try my best, but I keep feeling sick just thinking about it."

Past family was always a hard topic, Spate did her best to suppress the wince she felt surfacing and raised a hoof to her muzzle to express instead a contemplative gesture. So shortly into their acquaintanceship she saw no way to draw out that particular venom, so again she picked the more surmountable subject. "It wasn't what you worked for, but you still have those skills you learned, the ethic you developed. Would you mind telling me what you did?" It was a risk to pry that she knew well, but she hoped she'd read the room well enough for it to pay off.

James looked away and scoffed, not turning back to her as he spoke, "Like my job you mean?" He received a patient confirmation and sighed, still avoiding her, "Towards the end, whatever I could, I had been in some... manual labor a few years steady but then a few things happened and I ended up job hopping a bit." He brought himself to look at her again, "Nothing impressive, nothing worth bringing over here for sure." As he sat he began to look around again, though less intensely.

Despite his vague rundown this could still be considered a victory, "Please don't think of this in terms of what is and isn't 'worthy'." He wouldn't want to hear all the parallels her mind was now almost constantly making between him and many prior subjects of her studies as she heard more from him, and Spate did her best to stay grounded without leaning on the history books too much for support, only some context, "You aren't here to perform, simply being is enough. Your pace, remember?"

She was persistent, James thought, and repeating herself, "Right, thank you." Standing up slowly, he looked around the room to then end his survey back on her, "I don't want to be in here anymore, how far are we from the room?"

Dismounting the seat to stand in a pony's own way Spate looked back to the wide doorway they'd entered from, "Not far at all, you do mean your room, yes?"

It felt out of place to call those quarters his room but it was another adjustment to overcome, "I guess so, could you lead the way, please." He began for the arching frame, sure of how to begin at least.

Once more taking a minor lead the mare headed straight down the hall they'd come from, with only a single turn on the route back to assigned arrangements. It was a quieter return trip. Reaching the room again Spate opened the door ahead of James before following him inside. She had once more taken a spot on the couch as he stepped across over to the balcony she herself had enjoyed only a hoofful of hours ago. Spate watched as he peeked through the curtains, not tossing them aside altogether.

"Is it okay if I go out onto the balcony?" He was too busy taking in the sights of the capital to look away as he asked.

Happy with his continued efforts she assured him it was fine, "If you want to, James, it's your balcony."

She saw him mouth a word before he shook off whatever thought he'd had and look up to the curtains before sliding them wide open, the afternoon light shining across him warmly. Taking a second, unreserved look out his glass doors Spate knew the scene he was met with: a gleaming city full of life, dazzling reflections twinkling back at him from every polished angle, ponies of every shade going about their days, perfect roads that cut across it to deliver all of these inhabitants to and fro. It was what one should rightfully imagine when visualizing the core of Equestria's being.

Unlatching a door, James proceeded to walk out, "Where is everyone?" That put some concerned surprise into Spate's mind, "I thought a place this big would have people everywhere."

Getting up to have a look for herself, Spate walked around the open door and put her forehooves upon the railing to look over the questionable activity below. What she saw would be more befitting a blizzard or some other severe weather, all across from their significant vantage Spate could only identify a scant few ponies rushing along the roads, not a pegasus in the skies even. The Princesses wouldn't have ordered this, it matched nothing she'd ever heard of from their reception services either. Whatever was happening had to be of the ponies below, but the scale of this made such a thing hard to believe. Not even this casual observing could unfold as expected it seemed, "I- actually don't know where everyone is, usually you could hear them from here!" She used a forehoof to wave over the dwindling amount of stragglers, "That's not even a quiet night." She thought to herself for a reason as the two took in the regal ghost town, "I'm sorry, James," she shook her head in disappointment, "I have no idea what's going on."

Not looking away from the pristine model city he waved off her apology, "At least we have that in common, there's a few of them down there at least, looks like most are in a hurry too." They watched a few colorful dots take winding paths to their ends, others occasionally surfacing to run their own certain mazes. "It might not be obvious, but I think this is an impressive, beautiful place. Passing over in that... chariot was too fast to really notice."

His fingers tapped on the stone railing and Spate wondered what that felt like as she looked between James and the city. With such a clear day and the opportunity right there, Spate began to try to point out landmarks, places to see, and her own personal opinions on some recommendations and designs once he'd asked. They had gone on for some time about local architecture in Canterlot versus the varying designs their hometowns had to offer until Spate noticed the altitude's chill was beginning to make itself known through James, he had put his hands in his coat pockets and appeared to scrunch in on himself slightly, "Are you feeling cold, James?" She asked while looking up to him from her spot beside him, still on her hindlegs.

Zipped up as he was, James felt warm enough. Looking to her he answered, "I'm okay, Spate, thanks." His vision panned over the city again, the shadows grew within the city's walls, their elevation allowed them scarce extra daylight as the sun had already set for those below. It was time enough to experience the magical contrast between the last shining rays of light as the moon grew over the horizon. The city played the part of a greyscale image dropped into a halo of colorful walls encircling it, the castle being a sharp, jutting bolt of starkest colors to represent their Majesties from the furthest corner of its mountainous claim. "It doesn't seem right to worry about being cold when there''s something like this."

Only loosely certain she understood him, she chose to trust that he knew his limits. The wind was crisp, feeling as though it blew from the moon itself. Lights sparked on in the streets and homes below them, far outnumbering the few souls they'd been watching while they could still be made out against the stone roads. Flickers however could be made out among the darkening canvas now though, carrying along the same unknown paths they followed with confidence in the light of day. It was comforting to see these signs of life again, Spate felt, still unhappy with the impression those empty roads may have given. She wanted James to see life, society, Canterlot! The possibilities there were, how not terribly unalike things could be. But it was as if they were the only people in the world, on that balcony in those earlier moments. At least there had been the specks of life floating around. Still yet, they persisted their questing from here to there, never seeming to linger at all, wholly mindful of reaching their destinations.

It wasn't surprising, both considered in their own ways, for most life stayed simple and it went on as ever. Before such a line of thought could continue any further it was hard to tell who noticed it first, and what was it they were noticing. The original sprinkling of lights had grown to a point it where it was hard to imagine anyone to be sleeping below, as if the citizens had naturally always been nocturnal. "Is this more of a night city, Spa?" James uncertainly looked from wall to city wall and the pattern held up.

Bewildered by the life she saw now much more than its absence earlier, nothing was making sense about this city today. "Hardly, I don't know what this is, James." The pair continued to watch as growing darkness highlighted the thousands of nightlights. Among the splashed night sky at their feet and hooves rather than the one twinkling into life above their heads, the earth was alive with motion and purpose. A shimmering pool shone up at them, blinking, moving, arranging, individually coming to life and dying out in such a display it couldn't be followed with mere eyes. It was dazzling as were the shadows it played across the castle, Spate noticed other royal balconies holding their own guests, a few even with lanterns of their own.

Once the sun was tucked away, seeming to skip away under the horizon as the moon boldly took her rightful turn above, it was almost hard to tell it was night out if one focused only below. Spate wondered what this must look like from beyond the walls, probably like the city was on fire. James remarked on another point of intrigue among the lights, "They're going out." He said with more than a little disappointment. With no precedent to draw from Spate figured that may very well be true, but with no demanding schedule they continued to watch what was left of it. As they both began to notice however, for all the lights which had gone out a cluster grew brighter. Eventually shadows covered most of the city in a more expectable manner but for those enclaves of breathing light.

This she knew for certain that she caught onto first and allowed herself to soak in the deep sense of Equestrian pride that she felt recognizing her kin doing their part as steadily the stage was set and footing was found. Confident in what to expect now, Spate decided she'd rather watch his reaction once enough came together. It didn't take much longer for a gasp, stolen by the wind, to escape James as the pony-made constellations came together to make shapes, and those shapes into letters, then words. It didn't read much, but still it said everything: 'WE'RE HERE FOR YOU JAMES. The starry imitation stayed illuminated for a good few more minutes, throughout which the named human never looked away from it. As Spate looked between his face and the amazing outpouring of communal support she almost wondered why her position was even needed when so many ponies down below cared enough to put together something like this. At the same time, the face he wore was sorely indecipherable for her between the poor lighting and plain inexperience. He didn't look upset by it, but she felt like if she were in a similar position she would be a mess by now. Many times over in fact.

As the lights finally went out in sweeping batches for night to officially settle for good James breathed deeply, realizing he'd been taking entirely too shallow breaths the entire time. He blinked, looking over where just moments ago an entire city of strangers had a candlelight vigil for him. Much like earlier in the day he found his eyes jumping across the scene, this time between the faraway lights who stayed on. Slowly the late lights went out in time, but not all. He took his hands from their pockets to grip the barrier before him as he leaned forward, trying to replay the view in his mind. If Spate had told him it hadn't happened he'd be too ready to believe it.

Sensing a change in James, she opened with the easiest topic, "That was beautiful wasn't it? I don't think I've ever heard of something like that happening outside of... shows before." Some hard facts came back to her with strands of understanding. It was a beautiful display and she hoped it helped James.

Overlooking the muted tones of his guide the man was just glad to have that experience vouched for, "I bet, and yeah that was more than I could have expected." James tilted his head Spate's direction, "And you didn't know they were planning this?" He felt she was transparent enough that she obviously was as caught off guard as he, but it all came together so perfectly.

"No way!" Spate asserted, "No one ever mentioned anything like this to me before!" She pushed off the ledge to land on all fours so that she could face James head on, "A lot of ponies are glad you're here," she swept a wing over the direction off the balcony, "a lot, please don't think we're trying to- to work you over in some way."

Putting his hands up in acceptance, a gesture Spate followed closely, James relented, "Okay, I believe you." He threw a look back over the edge before tucking them once more in his coat pockets, "I don't know how they knew I'd be out here at this moment when, from all I've been told, I could be anywhere in the world, but I believe you." They headed inside and this time he noticed a set of folded clothes on his bed with a note addressed to him. Looking to Spate before grabbing the note it described how the writer hoped James enjoyed the lights, the writer had several lit themself, and they had received some rough estimates for the human's size when that load of his arriving set had been dropped off to be washed. The note concluded with should James want a more tailor fit all he'd have to do was ask. It was signed with a sort of embellished diagram James couldn't make sense of.

The note was handed over to Spate who looked it over with an intense curiosity. "It must be a cutiemark." Spate reasoned as she looked over the filigreed signature. Turning to the neatly stacked apparel she voiced a thought they both had, "Do you think these were here when we first came back?"