Human Shouldn't Pony Pony
The sky is so blue, it almost feels excessive. It's so wide open, I feel like I could fall into it. Every now and then, a cloud drifts past, a pegasus visibly pushing it along.
The hill is a gentle rise, more a hillock. Possibly a tuffet. Some archaic term, certainly. The grass is soft and a little ticklish against my skin. It's slightly springy, enough that I feel like I could lie here forever. Drowsiness tugs at my eyelids, but I know I should stay awake for as long as I can.
I have no idea how I got here, and I honestly don't care. It's all so beautiful. It's as perfect as anything can be.
I know for a fact that it can't last. Aside from the impermanence of all things, one of the cloud jockeys noticed me about... oh, five, maybe ten minutes ago. She just came to a stop, then started descending. I didn't do anything, even when she was barely a hundred feet above me and I utterly failed to recognize her. A greeting, a wave, they might be seen as a threat. She'd probably zip away the moment I started. She did just that by the time it was getting awkward.
And now, here comes the result. A regular rustling comes in on the edge of hearing, getting louder as the source comes closer. "There you are." It's a woman's voice, a bit weary, a bit amused. I think there may be a touch of caution or concern there as well, but I'm not sure. More rustling. I glance to the side, and there's a lighter green against the grass. "You're only a few feet from the incursion point. Have you really stayed here the whole time?"
I sigh and bring my gaze back to the sky. "Well, good to know there's no language barrier to worry about. So, who are you with? CDA? ETSAB? Independent?"
A hoof nudges me under my ribs. I can't help but look, and golden eyes meet mine. "Answer my question and I'll answer yours."
I pull myself up into a sitting position and face the unicorn. I can make out the grain of her coat, the hairs in her white and mint mane. Yet there's still a certain cartoonishness to her, some indefinable aspect that keeps this creature with eyes as big as my palms from plummeting into the Uncanny Valley. "Yes, ma'am, I have."
She brings her head up, still lying on her belly, her eyes about level with my chest. "Why?"
I shake my head. "That wasn't the deal. I answered your question. It's your turn."
She quirks an eyebrow. "You're not exactly in a position to be making demands."
I shrug. "It's not a demand, just a request that you honor our agreement."
She gives a very equine snort. For a moment, I wonder what the proper term for that is. "You seem surprisingly calm about all of this. Drizzle thought you might be dead."
"I didn't want to spook her."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, because nothing builds confidence like an utterly unresponsive alien."
"Look, the way I see it, I have very little control over the situation, so I'm going to take control over the one aspect I can; namely, my own behavior." I turn to the top of the little hill, over which the tip of a crystalline tree-palace peaks out. "I could waltz into Ponyville, panic some florists, start a rigamarole of some kind depending on how familiar they are with humans, and then I'd be swept along by whatever chaos would then ensue." I shrug. "Honestly? I just want to enjoy what time I have here."
"And that entails?"
I look back at her, and I think she's tensed up a bit. Her ears twitch a bit, and I have no idea what to make of that. "In my case? Being by myself with my thoughts, soaking in the ambiance. I want to make some memories without forming friendships that will only be sundered. Assuming I'd even make them. It's said you should never meet your heroes."
She scrunches up her muzzle. It's just as cute in person. "Why are you so certain that it'll all go wrong?"
A sigh, and my gaze drifts to the horizon. "I'm afraid. And you probably couldn't care less about why."
She shakes her head, the motion bringing my attention back to her. I see a ghost of a grin on her muzzle. "No, no, this is fascinating. You're my first Thinker."
I frown a bit at this. "It sounds like you're using that as a technical term. You get enough humans that you can categorize them by behavior?"
"More or less. They're loose groupings, and some people fall under more than one." She shudders. "The less said about Scourge/Charmers, the better."
"I'd imagine." I frown. "You know, you never did tell me who you work for. Or your name."
She barks out a laugh. "You knew about the florists. You're really going to tell me you don't know who I am?"
I feel my lips quirk into a little smile. "And why should I?"
"I see that grin," she says through one of her own. "Come on, I know I'm rather well known among you bronies."
"Well, yes, but it's awfully complicated." I begin counting out the options on my fingers. "You could be Lyra, Heartstrings, Lyra Heartstrings, background unicorn number two—"
She holds up a hoof. "Point made. Let's go with Lyra."
"Lyra it is. So, your affiliation?"
She shakes her head. "Nope, not telling. No human's heard of us yet, and I have no intention of spilling the beans."
I consider this. "So I am going home, then."
"Weren't you expecting to?"
I shrug. "Sure, but I could've been wrong."
Lyra smirks. "Like you could be wrong about how best to conduct yourself in Equestria?"
That gets a scowl. "You're really going to go there? You're the one sending me back."
The smirk only widens. "Yeah, so I have every right to harass you about wasted opportunities."
"I don't think that's how it works." I admit it, I sulk a little.
Lyra folds her forehooves under her and lies her head on them. Going by her Cheshire grin and half-lidded eyes, she's very pleased with herself. "Well, you should've met another pony or two and found out for sure. You were seriously afraid of making friends?"
"Well, also of pathogens, wrong-handed organic chemicals, unbridgeable cultural divides, mutual linguistic incomprehension, grimdark—"
Lyra snorts again. "Those are excuses and you know it."
After a moment's hesitation, I nod. "Yeah. And as I said, it isn't making friends that I'm afraid of most of all. It's saying goodbye to them. I'd rather not have a pony-shaped hole in my heart for the rest of my life, thank you."
"So you'd rather not do anything? That just seems kind of sad."
"Suppose you were in my shoes," I shoot back. "You're in some alternate dimension you've always wanted to visit, but you're utterly unprepared for any kind of long-term stay there. What do you do?"
Her ears waggle. "Do you really think you're utterly unprepared?"
"I'm in IT, Lyra. There's not much I can offer to Equestria beyond biting wit and menial labor." I pause. "Um, are you familiar with—"
She brushes off the question with a wave of her hoof. "Yes, yes, I know what computers are. Go on."
"Given that whatever you work for has seen enough humans to make psychographic profiles for them, I'm clearly not the holy hominid prophesied as the Second Coming of the Megan, and even if there were some legend that I match, you'd probably have said something at this point." I consider this for a moment. "Unless this is the most roundabout test of character I've ever seen."
"It isn't."
"Yeah, I thought not."
A beat, and Lyra asked, "Do you really need to be some great hero of legend to feel worthwhile?"
"At home? No. Here?" I spread my arms wide. "This is a world where destiny doesn't just exist, it makes itself known through magical butt tattoos."
Lyra scowled. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Harpflank." I fall back onto the grass. "It's just... in a world of magic and fate, there must be a reason for everything. Not just a cause, a reason. An intent. A purpose. Logically, I must be here for something, but what?"
"You know what I think?"
I heave myself back up. "What?"
"Firstly, you are a silly human."
I chuckle. "No argument there."
"Secondly," and here her expression darkens, "call me 'Harpflank' again, and I won't be responsible for what happens next."
I raise my hands appeasingly. "Not exactly going to get many opportunities there, but you do not, in fact, fight crime with Bonbon. Got it."
"And thirdly, I think if you had actually gone out and looked for that purpose, you would've found it."
We stare at each other for some time. There's pity in her eyes, but at the same time, she seems to be enjoying her first Thinker. Heck, her tail's wagging. Well, it's a lazy back and forth motion, but that probably still counts. As for me, I'm working up the nerve to ask the question that breaks the lull. "Is that an offer?"
The grin that had been creeping back onto her muzzle vanishes, and I immediately miss it. "Do you have someone who'll miss you?"
I nod. Therein lies the rub. "More than a few. I guess there's no time differential."
The smile returns, and with it a humorless laugh. "Well, there is, but it's one-to-one."
My curiosity nags at me. It had been easy to ignore when it was just me and some distant weather technicians, and I had intentionally quashed it when I was trying to avoid an interdimensional incident. But now that I have a pony right next to me, the questions keep coming. "What happens to those who won't be missed?"
"Almost everyone has someone who'll miss them, even if takes them a while to realize it." She laid her head back down, her ears flat. "The exceptions..." She heaved a sigh. "The exceptions are sent to the Crystal Empire, by Princess Cadence's request. Princess of Love and all. She's there for everyone."
"So what do they do there?"
She shakes her head. "Now you're just stalling for time."
My heart sinks. "Already?"
"Hey, you're the one who chose not to do anything with your time here."
I smile despite myself. "I'm a Thinker, remember? I'd need to give a ten-page soliloquy on the meaning of existence with every step."
Lyra laughs at that, and it's truly musical. Honestly, I didn't think it was that funny, but she seems to disagree. "As lo—" Her own laughter interrupts her, and she struggles to collect herself. I consider running for it, but then what? By the time I think of the fifth reason why that would be a terrible idea, she's regained enough of her composure to sputter, "As long as I don't have to wear a hoodie."
And then we're both laughing, the sort of laugh that comes when you have to choose between laughter and tears. We roll in the grass, sobbing with laughter.
As our mirth dies down, a realization hits me with a cold twist in my gut. "Equestria got me anyway."
"Huh?" Lyra asks as she gathers herself.
I sit back up as she arranges herself in a mildly dignified position. "I just wanted to make some memories. To know it's real, no strings attached. And I'm going to end up missing somepony anyway." I smile again, bitterly. "But I must go now. My planet needs me."
She stands, and we're roughly eye to eye. She walks over and prods me in the shoulder with her horn. "None of that. You're one of the good ones..." She facehoofs. "I never got your name."
I slump, my gaze falling to my lap. "Probably best that you don't know."
Another shoulder prod, harder this time. "Shut up and let me befriend you."
I relent for my shoulder's sake and tell her my name. (And just because I told a unicorn in another reality doesn't mean I'm going to tell a bunch of strangers on the Internet.)
Lyra nods. "Well, you're one of the good ones, nope. At least, you are when you actually do something. People like you are why I took this job." She waggles her head from side to side. A pony shrug, maybe? "Who knows? Maybe we'll see each other again."
"Really?" I want to hope. I know it's unwise, but I want to.
"It's been known to happen from time to time."
"I'd like that." I chuckle a bit. "Just don't open the portal in the middle of the Pacific, or bronies will never let you hear the end of it."
Her expression becomes unreadable, but after a few seconds, she just shakes her head and lights up her horn. "Farewell, my friend."
I'm entranced by the magic aura. It shifts and roils like the ultimate lava lamp. Still, I have the presence of mind to echo "Farewell." Then the same flowing, burbling, liquid gold energy envelops me, and I boggle at my own hands. I can see the bones. Lyra says something else, but there's a rushing sound in my ears, getting louder and louder, and
I wake up.
Blink.
"Seriously!?"
Author's Note
The CDA is the Canterlot Deportation Agency, thought up by Estee.
The ETSAB is the Equestrian Time-Space Administration Bureau, my own creation, and the reason why I picked Lyra to be the pony I encounter. Well, aside from the obvious.
This was basically a thought experiment. "Suppose I'm in Equestria," I said to myself one night. "Then what?" Following the half-dreaming stream of consciousness led me to the basic scenario for this story. Floating down a second one as I wrote it gave me the skeleton. Adin Terim's comment made sure I put some meat on them bones.
Was it all a dream? That's up to you.
And I'm not giving my name. I don't even have a Facebook; you think I'm going to tell you people who I am?
