Sustenance of Hatred

by Wreck some Pense 40

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Princess Celestia, Human, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Princess Luna, Original Character
Length: 37447

Humans are anathema to the world of Equestria. Any arrival of such are unwelcome, but necessary.

In the beautiful land of Equestria, a creature born of darkness and despair from a world where hope long lay dead crashes from the sky. A beast of little more than destruction and fury. His name is Jonas, and he has no idea why all these colorful ponies are talking.

Published 2012-04-09 03:14:07 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-31 22:32:54 UTC

Freaking Talking Ponies

We begin, as always, with the end of another story.

Wind howled across the crags as four dozen of the mightiest earth ponies grunted and heaved, their breath snatched away and carried along the gale to the valley below. The thick ropes looped around each of the workponies led to the massive obsidian cube as they dragged it further up the slope of the mountain. The corners of the cube dug into the dirt and rocks, making the load feel even heavier as the air around the workponies became thinner. For three weeks the cube had been travelling from the Palace of the Two Sisters, watched the entire way by four alicornian eyes that never wavered, never blinked. Now, they neared the end of the journey.

Their princesses stood silent, somberly watching as the cube came to rest at the edge of a hole. It was perfectly smooth, the result of a beam of pure sunlight that had cut down from the heavens as a divine sword, boring straight down into the depths of the mountain. Celestia watched as the work ponies bowed to her, gasping for breath after the incredibly harsh climb. The princesses would have lifted the ponies burden were it not for the dulling powers of the material.

Princess Luna spared a glance downwards, the hole was deep, reaching from near the summit of the mountain to well below the base. In practical terms, the hole was slightly more than a mile deep.

Princess Celestia stood tall beside her sister, magenta eyes lingering on the obsidian cube, ten lengths wide and ten lengths tall. The ponies assembled filed into order, forming four lines, two on each side of the hole reaching down into the earth. A moment passed, no sound uttered besides the coughing of the work ponies and the screech of the wind.

“Today, we cast down what was once a close friend of all those gathered!”

Even using her royal voice, Celestia could only barely be heard over the wind which seemed to grow louder in protest to any competition.

“We entomb the betrayer in the heart of the earth! That neither the Sun nor Moon need bear to see the memories of such despair!”

Celestia’s voice hitched on the word ‘betrayer’, though it was so slight and so quick that none but her immortal sister standing beside her could hear it. Luna would never hold it against her. The ponies bowed their heads, the battle at the Palace still fresh in their minds. So many lives wasted so pointlessly.

“His name shall be forgotten in the records of history! He shall be erased. His crimes will be wiped away with the passage of time! His hatred and madness shall no longer threaten ponykind!”

Had any been looking, they would have seen the slightest hint of tears in Celestia’s eyes. Luna’s wing stretched ever so subtly, brushing at her sister’s side. A brief reminder that she was not alone in her sorrow. That there was no blame between the sisters. There was a shimmer of yellow magic around the princess’ horn, and the ground below the cube shifted, compressing into a ramp below the flat side facing them.

“He falls never to rise again!”

The cube shifted, slowly and ponderously leaning towards the Princesses. For a moment the world froze as the massive block hung between falling and staying, a perfect moment of clarity and focus.

Gravity took hold and the cube slipped into the darkness of the hole. For a minute, all those who had seen it fall stood in solemn silence, heads bowed. The roar of the impact was muted and faded by the time it reached the surface once more, sounding more like the dropping of a wet sack from another room than the permanent punishment of a monster.

There was another glow of magic from both princesses this time, and the world shook briefly and the plates beneath the skin of the land moved and shook. The hole became a fissure became the smallest of cracks, erasing all evidence of any punishment.

Celestia hung behind the procession as they descended the mountain, beginning the journey back to the Palace to finally begin the repairs in full. For a moment she looked back at the burial ground that contained what had once been a good friend.

“Farewell, Roderick the Viking. May you find peace.”

Her back turned upon the mountain, she continued the long journey ahead of her.

Such is the end, of our beginning.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Chapter 1: Freaking Talking Ponies

“Everypony stand back! Whatever that thing is, it’s probably hurt, so please stand back!”

There was a muttering of a crowd, that was the first thing that slithered through his mind as he processed those shouted words. His eyes cracked open reluctantly before snapping shut, as if to say ‘Ha! Shoulda stayed closed, dumbass!’.

He forced them to open, groaning as the pain in the back of his ribs reached his brain. Ow. He must’ve had a hell of a fall to be feeling this beat. Probably hit his head, judging by the dirt on his face.

There was dirt on all sides of him, roots and worms exposed to the air. It smelled warm and cloistered, like fresh-planted flowers. He could hear the voices above the hole, quieter than that first loud one. People were gathering, he should get up, show he wasn’t hurt. No need to get a doctor or anything. He was fine.

His arm raised tiredly, fingers working and gripping at the sides of the hole, easily pulling into the tightly packed dirt. If he were feeling better, he’d find that weird.

As he pulled on his new handhold, two things happened: Pain lanced from his back throughout his entire body, making him spasm and cry out in hurt. His arm jerked towards his chest, tearing his handhold into a large hole, spraying even more dirt all over himself as he writhed in the mud, coughing as dust flew into his nose.

He began hacking and choking on the dirt, more of it was falling from the sides of the wall, and he had to get up. He had to move. He couldn’t breathe.

He thought he saw something purple above him, but disregarded it in favor of rolling onto his stomach, pushing himself up with difficulty, knees dragging through mud (mud?), lifting himself further and with great difficulty. There was more pain, but he bit his cheek and carried on, palms now pressed against one side of this hole. It seemed to be about seven feet deep, a foot and a bit higher than his head at full height. He was on his feet (bare) his bare feet. What?

Jonas looked down to see his pink toes squishing into the mud. There were bits of… was that steel? His eyes were now clearer than they had been. About waist height, there was a pipe, crunched and bent as if it had been struck by something. Like a hammer, or a car. Or something. Whatever. It was gushing water out of a rent, making a puddle. Well, that explained the mud.

He raised his arm up tentatively, fingers reaching for the lip of the hole. He could still hear people. Thankfully no-one had come down to help, they were probably just watching or filming for youtube. He could see it now: “Dumbass Student falls down Hole” 37,879 views. 145 likes, 12 dislikes.

Heh.

Best he could hope for was- ah. Ah ah ah ah ow!

Jonas did his best to not spasm again as pain wracked his body. He’d probably cracked a rib. Oh. Goody.

He felt… angry. It just happened. One second he was pissed off, embarrassed, but okay. It was just an accident, and he just wanted to get out of this hole he’d found himself in, hoping he wasn’t hurt. The next…

It was like a tidal wave. He just felt red. He was so angry, so furious at this entire situation for happening to him. He’d been having a good day. And now…
He just wanted to scream. In equal parts rage and pain.

So he did.

He dug deep into his lungs before letting loose and amazing himself. His roar of fury was louder than he thought it would be, and it felt good. It felt freeing, just letting loose. He flung his hands upwards, reaching over the lip of the hole and digging deep, kicking his feet into the side of the wall and trying to pull himself out, ignoring the lightning pain in his back, the fury coursing through him like warm water.

His hands came free, clods of grass and earth coming free in his hands and he fell back down into the hole, splashing in the mud. He leapt back to his feet, still raging, cussing, it became a blur, leaping at the lip of the hole, feet digging even deeper into the wall as his hands furiously scrabbled, digging deep into the outside. He kept scrambling, clods of dirt flying every which way as he madly climbed like a wild thing out of the hole.

He could feel the anger dying as he gained more traction, and now the pain was catching up to him. He’d stopped screaming, his entire upper body was free of the hole, and so he twisted, rolling onto his back and panting with exertion and pain. White dots danced across his eyes as he was blinded by the pain. He lay there panting and gently sobbing (in a masculine fashion) facedown in the grass. He collected himself enough to roll onto his back with a pained grunt. He looked up at the sky, desperately trying to recover from that unexpected ordeal. That anger... he’d had tantrums before. Been to anger therapy.... That was... weird. That was really weird. Whatever. Hole’s gone now.

“Um, are you okay?”

Hey, it was that voice from earlier, the one that’d been all shouty and such. He smiled, not even looking at her. Sounded like another student.

“Yeah... just gimme... a sec...”

It suddenly occurred to him that he must look like crap. He was covered in mud and soaked to the bone courtesy of that pipe in there. He should probably tell someone about that. Right after-

There was purple above him. Wide eyes looking down at him. His mouth formed a confused “huh?” That was... it looked like a...

He rolled onto his side, looking at the crowd. They were, they all looked like...

Ponies!?

But not regular ponies. They were ponies of all kinds of colors, with large eyes and surprisingly expressive faces. He could see and discern emotions of curiosity, shock, fear, excitement... all he’d ever seen a ponies face make was... a pony face, really. So these were clearly not ponies, but... but what else could he call these things?

“Alright everypony! Let her through! Fluttershy is here to help!”

There was a brash voice, calling through the crowd, and then he saw the next most strikingly impossible thing. It was a pony... with wings. It was flying. Oh, and talking. Right. It was flying and talking, and its fur was blue but its mane... its mane was a rainbow. Its mane was a rainbow. And it flew. And it talked. And its mane was a rainbow.

A confused giggle was all he could squeak out.

“Fluttershy, thank goodness you’re here. It looks hurt, and a minute ago it was screaming in pain.”

It was the purple one. The purple talking pony. That talks. And is also a pony.

“Oh my. I’ll do my best, but...”

He groaned. There was another talking pony-thing. Okay. From now on, he just figured he should assume that ponies can talk now. Right. That’s not weird. Just roll with the punches. Y’know.

Talking ponies.

There was a light yellow one. Yellow. Are ponies usually yellow? He’d seen light brown ones... well, now he’d seen blue and purple ones, so yellow isn’t too weird. Is it? He giggled again. God, he was probably still in the hole, face down in the water. This was probably one of the least applicable dying hallucinations he could think of.

The yellow one came up, carrying a box with a bright red cross emblazoned across the front in her teeth. Oh. A doctor horse (pony). Just what he needed. Proper pony-applied medical care.

The yellow one put the box down, flipping it open with her mouth before pausing, then looking at him and meeting his gaze with her cyan eyes. She smiled kindly, timidly.

“Um, excuse me, do you, can you tell me where it hurts?”

He didn’t... okay. So the pony was talking to him. Not weird. Ponies. Not weird. TALKING. Not weird. Alright. Alright. Alright.

He opened his mouth, managing to squeak out “Back. Right side. Rib.” It was like mentioning the pain reminded it to get to work, and work it did. All of his muscles were on fire and he felt so tired all of a sudden and his neck felt... warm? Just a second ago he’d been cold from the water and mud and... it felt like...

His hand flew, fighting the pain thanks to instinct. His fingers touched the back of his head. It was slick, and sticky, and warm. He pulled his hand in front of his head, he had to be sure. Ah. Blood.

“I t-think I might’vve hit...”

He tried to push himself up as the yellow pony (it had wings. Oh.) squeaked, apparently there was more blood than he thought there’d been.

“mmy heaad”

He slurred, noting that that’s not how those words were supposed to sound as he fell face first back onto the ground.

Freaking talking ponies.

He slipped into darkness.

Twilight Sparkle, favorite student of Princess Celestia, watched as Fluttershy did her best to care for the strange creature that had fallen from the sky. Even out here at Sweet Apple Acres, half of the town of Ponyville had gathered to see just what had fallen, wreathed in fire, and smashed into the ground with such force that for a moment Twilight had feared the dark creature Discord had escaped imprisonment.

But it hadn’t been that. It had been... something. A large, almost two-pony tall creature, with gangly limbs and dull looking claws. No fur, and its mane was a dull brown. It had seemed so... naked. And that scream! When it had roared in rage and defiance, it hadn’t just been loud. It had resonated with the very air, and had scared half the crowd away. The thing had no idea how close it had come to being blasted by the full might of the Element of Magic when it had crawled out of the hole.

It was clearly a strange creature, judging by the fact that, by her senses, it was almost radiating magic. It was not a magic Twilight was intimately familiar with, which was in itself an oddity.She already had a quill and scroll out, jotting down a quick message to the Princess. Perhaps Princess Celestia had some experience with a weird sky-falling creature, and would be better able to allay the fears of the townsfolk.

“Gah! What is this thing made of!?”

Twilight paused her notes to watch as the just-arrived doctor and his assistants tried to lift the sleeping creature onto an improvised stretcher - really two stretchers taped end to end to fit the strange new creature on - but could barely manage to do anything but roll it over onto the cloth. They couldn’t even manage to lift it. It sat like a boulder as the doctor and nurse struggled to lift the ends of the stretcher away.

Twilight decided to get involved

“Rainbow, could you help them move it?”

The Element of Loyalty grinned a cocky grin as she swooped down, wrapping a foreleg around both the handles.

“Stand back. I got this.”

And with a tremendous effort, the creator of the Sonic Rainboom achieved jack squat.

“W-what!? Hey, no. I just... I just wasn’t ready that time. It’s just a bit heavier than I thought it’d be.”

The polychromatic pony did a couple knee bends and squats, before getting her hold again.

“Alright. Now I got this.”

She practically jumped, wings beating furiously as she planted her hooves in the ground, she heaved and groaned, and began to lift her side of the stretcher. Seeing her success, the doctor and his nurses quickly grabbed the other side, all lifting it together.

“What in the tarnation?”

Applejack, the orange earth pony and Element of Honesty, came through the crowd, quickly coming to Dash’s aid before the racer could fall over under her burden, receiving a relieved grin for her trouble. Together, the six ponies resumed carrying the strange beast away.

Interesting... The creature is far heavier, and therefore denser than its size would indicate. That explains how it could survive an impact like that.

Twilight jotted down this observation in her message to Princess Celestia before trotting off home, it was incredibly important that she send this message right away.

He came to on a mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Feeling blank. Well, that’s not true. He felt... something. Something in the back of his mind, bubbling. Bubbling?

“Oh! You’re awake! Ohhhhh Twilight’s gonna want to be here! Hold on! Go back to sleep and I’ll go get her so you can wake up again!”

His ears were ringing around the time the pink blur said “awake”. He rolled onto his side, trying to block out the clacking of what had to be (had to be) high heels on hospital tile. Granted, most women don’t run in high heels, but after the screeching sugar high, the pink blob was clearly not a regular lady.

He wearily lifted a hand, fingers rubbing the crusty sleep out of his eyes as he sat up on the mat, looking around. It was a pleasantly colored room, unlike the usual harsh whiteness of a hospital.
It was a chocolate brown, really. A nice warm brown, at the very least. His hands felt at his back, twisting and feeling... nothing? Not even gauze. Weird. He’d probably just twisted his muscles, is all. Probably.

He stood, stretching and yawning before reaching to the back of his head. He felt a large lump on the back of his head and jerked his fingers back in reflex before gingerly prodding at it. It was sore, and stung like a mother when poked, so he resolved to not poke the lump on his head. He’d probably be fine.

That was when the room started spinning like a tilt-a-whirl.

Oh, he was probably not fine. Whatever, he’d just... leave, find a doctor, talk it out, get better, maybe write about that crazy pony hallucination brought on by his head trauma. He put one foot forwards, focused his eyes on the wall, then took another step. He was moving, thankfully. He was at the door, reaching for its bright yellow handle when he paused.

It was made of wood, and painted bright red. Now, Jonas was no stranger to the hospital, and he knew that no self-respecting hospital would have such a... rustic looking door. It was just off.

He shook his head, then regretted shaking his head as he felt nauseous. Who knew getting out a door was so difficult? He reached out, and grabbed onto the metal doorknob firmly.

It compressed within his grip, folding in on itself in his fingers. He felt a flash of rage, a hot spike of pure fury that flooded through his veins and made him feel so very, very strong, like he could just grab and rip and tear-

He looked down, letting go and just staring at the folded metal. That was... weird. Really weird. He was not prepared to deal with this level of weird, so he just twisted the crushed doorknob, hoping it would work.

It did. He stepped out into the hallway, peering from side to side nervously. He was just going to quietly step out to the front, actually, he felt like going home. He should go home, sit on his couch, and just wait for Caroline to get home and tell her all about the wacky morning he had.

He tip-toed down the hall, barefoot, he was still in the jeans and long-sleeved shirt he’d been wearing this morning, but they were clean, somehow. Like, brand new clean. He filed that detail away in the “meh whatever” folder of details in his brain. His focus was not on the questionable cleaning He was almost at the door, he could see the sun shining outside, and he couldn’t help but smile as he pushed the doors open...

“IT’S ESCAPED! RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIIIIVES!!!!”

There was a hysterical scream from a...

No.

No way.

A pony-looking thing. There was a pony thing pointing at him with one hoof, while another went to its mouth in terror and it stood on its hind legs. It wasn’t the only one, looking around. There were dozens (dozens!) of other pony things, all looking at him in terror and shock.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Uh. What?”

Jonas personally thought that “Uh. What?” was the most non-threatening thing he could have said at the time. The ponies disagreed strenuously and began running and screaming and tripping over themselves. Jonas just stood, wide-eyed, as the plaza cleared itself out in record time.

The streets were now empty, not a pony to be seen. Jonas just numbly walked forwards. This was wrong. If he were at the hospital, the one he knew of, then the street should be clogged and crowded with cars. If he were hallucinating he should get hit by a car right about...

Now.

Oh. He was fine. That’s great. Really, getting hit by a car in a hallucinogenic state wasn’t really something he wanted to happen, but it did remove the (remote) possibility that he had any idea what in the hell was going on. So, there’s that.

“Stop!”

He did. I mean, what was he going to do, run away from the little purple pony?

He turned, confirming that it was indeed the little purple pony he remembered from the hole. She was short, maybe only four feet tall. Was that tall for a pony? Jonas had no idea. He looked, fighting through the fog he seemed to be existing in to watch this new pony. She had a horn on her head. She was a unicorn. You know what? Yeah. Sure. Fine. Talking unicorn. At this point, not weird. She had dark purple hair with a... violet? Violet looking streak in it. Oh, her hair was her mane, wasn’t it? He tried shaking his head again. He felt more nauseous for the effort.

She was standing on the steps up to the hospital, and on each side of her were more ponies. One was a bright pink, and couldn’t stop smiling broadly at him. He pointed at that one, playing a hunch.

“Were you... in my room when I woke up?”

If that smile got any bigger it’d split her head.

“Eeeeeeyup! That’s how Big Mac would say yes if he were here. But he’s not so I’ll cover for him. I’m Pinkie Pie! You must be new! What’s your name? Actually, what exactly are you, because we’ve been wondering what exactly you are after you fell from the sky and were reaaaally heavy and tough to get to the hospital and we triieeeed to put you in a bed, but you broke it because you’re so heavy so we put you on a mat on the ground and Rainbow Dash couldn’t stop complaining about how heavy you are, but I think that’s just because she’s upset that she couldn’t pick you up on her own and she feels embarrassed about how-”

The orange pony elbowed the pink one, drawing his attention. This one had a... it had a stetson. Not weird. Okay. Next to that one was a blue one. Oh! This one he recognized, it was the rainbow one that had cleared the way for... There she was. In the back, the shy one that had carried the first aid box. There was one other he hadn’t seen before, she was a pure white, and had a curled mane. It looked like she also applied liberal amounts of conditioner or something to her coat, because she practically shined. Fancy.

“Um. Alrighty there, talking pony.”

The purple one was looking at him, no, she was inspecting him. There was a terse silence as both sides just kind of stared at eachother. He shifted awkwardly, trying to remain calm in the face of this weirdness. Finally the purple one spoke.

“Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia. These are my friends, Pinkie Pie” - she pointed at the pink one “Applejack” -the orange one “Rainbow Dash” the green one. No, wait, the rainbow one. Sorry. “Fluttershy, who helped tend to you until the doctors arrived” The little yellowish one. “And Rarity” the white one, who flipped her mane in a manner that simply exuded self-confidence. Also prissiness. Same thing.

He nodded to each one in order. No point in being rude, after all.

“Um, I’m Jonas. Jonas Bailey. Nice to meet you, uh, pony... people.”

There was an incredibly awkward silence. The pink one was practically vibrating with excitement while the others were busy sizing him up. He was six feet (5’11 ½, close enough) and they were about... three, four feet tall each. He looked around, noting the complete desolation of the street, then looked back at the six in front of him.

“So... am I dreaming?”

They all looked quizzically up at him, except Pinkie pie, who kept smiling. Creepy. Finally, the purpl- Twilight Sparkle shook her head slowly.

“Oh, yeah, I guess not. I don’t really see why I’d be dreaming of talking ponies. That’d be weird.”

The ponies nodded awkwardly. Wow. Okay. Talking ponies and he was already at the awkward conversation stage. Boy was he handling this well. The more things change, and all of that jazz and stuff. Great. Doing great.

“Ok, so... not sure how I ended up in a hospital filled with ponies. Anyone mind explaining that?”

There was a gleam in Twilight Sparkle’s eye. Jonas knew that gleam. He’d seen that same gleam in Caroline’s eyes. It was the gleam of an academic asked about something they could answer.

“I saw you falling out of the sky, and at first thought you were a meteorite. So I rushed to Sweet Apple Acres where you hit...” she nodded her head at the orange pony, Applejack.

“Yup, crashed smack-dab middle of our field! Sent Granny Smith ‘ta fits ya did. What were y’all thinkin?” Jonas opened his mouth to defend himself reflexively with the time honored defence of ‘I have no idea why I was falling out of the sky’ when the Rainbow one jumped into the story.

“Yeah! I was just practicing my loop-de-loops, saw you go-” She imitated a falling and exploding sound, quite accurately for a pony. “And I was all- Uh-oh, looks like I better save the day again!”

Pinkie Pie jumped into the story with even more gusto “And I was at Sugarcube Corner which is the best bakery EVER and I was making cupcakes and thought to myself, ‘Uh-oh! Twitchatwitch!’ because my Pinkie Sense went off so I ran outside and saw you crashing and thought, hey! I haven’t seen Applejack in a while! So I went to Sweet Apple Acres and-”

Pinkie Pie was cut off by the magical purple one. “When we saw you were hurt, we hurried you to the hospital. How is your head feeling?

Jonas took a second to process what she (they) had said, between the sudden overdose of unfamiliar voices and rate they’d interrupted eachother and talked over one another in a great big jumble of voices. . . .

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. So.... what? I fell out of the sky?”

He pointed up at aforementioned sky.

“That sky? All the way up there?”

There was another awkward silence. They all looked at him like he was stupid or not paying attention or both. Twilight nodded again, slowly. She was always moving slowly, like someone handling a mentally challenged kid or an insane hobo and he wasn’t either of those things, damnit.

“Well, yes. We’d like to ask how you got up there, since I don’t see any wings on you. We’d also like to know how you survived the landing, which was really more of a crash when I think about it.”

Nope. Nope nope nope. Jonas was having none of this. He walked forwards, breaking the weird awkward showdown, and just sat on the steps in front of the hospital, put his fingers to his temples, and tried to reason things out.

A couple seconds after he sat down, he felt something prodding at his back. He turned his head to see the yellow one, Fluttershy. She was poking and prodding at his back, right around where the pain had been, actually.

“Um, does it still, um, hurt?”

He smiled. She seemed like a kind enough horse. She was also the quietest horse. Pony. Yeah, he could get used to this one.

“Yeah, it’s a lot better. Thanks for, um. Helping me.”

She smiled, and it was possibly the sweetest and most sincere smile he’d ever seen.

They scooted aside, now sitting in a circle around him as they watched him.

“So...” the vowel was drawn out as he tried piecing things together. Really, after the introduction of talking ponies (wearing stetsons) he was willing to consider anything. He looked at Twilight Sparkle. She seemed like she’d know, if any of them did.

“Yes?”

“Am I dead?”

They all looked at him like he was crazy. Or stupid. Again. Getting old.

“I mean, an hou- How long have I been asleep?”

“About five hours.”

“About five hours ago, I was walking to class. Then I tripped, and next thing I know I’m crawling out of a hole in a land full of magical talking ponies. So either I’m dead, or... I have no idea.”

The first one to start laughing was Rainbow Dash. It was a loud, grating laugh. Next was Applejack, who had more of a friendly chuckle. Pinkie pie started laughing after that, and didn’t stop for a long while.

Twilight tried to reason things out, bless her heart.

“Well, I’m not dead, and I’m talking to you and you’re talking to me, so you’re not dead.”

Bam. Applied mathematics. Great. Coming from a pony who might also be dead. Or a hallucination. Or some kind of purgatory test. He wasn’t an expert on these things.

“Alright. Thanks for that.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ah’m sure anypony’d be as confused as yah in y’alls situation!”

Jonas looked at her oddly, his eyes looking her in her large green ones.

“You mean anyone.”

“No, I said anypony.”

“But you meant anyone.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Ah meant, and said, anypony.”

He engaged her in a staring contest, with neither side willing to back down.

“Alright. Fine. Whatever. Anypony. Ponies. Great.”

Applejack looked pleased. Jonas was amusedly put out.

And like that, the dam was broken. They began talking, at first about his injuries, which were slight, then about the damaged water pipe and how Applejack’s family (The Apple Family. Original) had fixed it and filled the crater back up. Nobody had any idea where Jonas’ shoes were, and really that wasn’t his primary concern. He bounced some ideas off of Twilight, the smart pony (hallucination, drugs, lots of drugs, more hallucinations), she disagreed with each.

After a half an hour of talking pleasantly with magical talking ponies, and learning all sorts of things about them (Pinkie Pie was an assistant baker at the local sweet shop, Applejack’s family owned and ran the largest apple ranch around, Twilight Sparkle was the student/apprentice of the ‘Princess’ who sounded like she’d know what to do and should already be informed of his presence. Rarity was a designer and had her own boutique, Fluttershy was a friend to all living animals and lived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest (Everfree Forest)) he stood when he heard a rumbling in his stomach.

“So, where do you ponies eat around here?”

They followed, Rarity leading him down the street as she replied in that fancy accent of hers “Oh, darling, I know just the place, it’s ‘Le Botte de Foin, and they have just the most wonderful salads.”

A sudden, horrid thought occurred to Jonas. These ponies... were ponies. Ponies were herbivores, not omnivores. If he were stuck here... he may never eat bacon again. His stomach rumbled in protest.

“Hold up, sugarcube. Ah’m happy ta be makin’ new friends, but we ain’t takin ‘im to the most expensive restaurant for a late lunch.”

“Well, where would you suggest? The International House of Alfalfa, no doubt.”

There was a momentary pause. Jonas was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Well, yeah!”

Rarity took a breath, preparing to launch into the argument with full force. Jonas raised his hands in what he hoped were a pacifying manner.

“Ladies... I’m, uh, kinda new here, and don’t really have much money on me, so...” He’d been cut off from home funds about two months ago. He’d never been a fan of ramen quite like he’d become after a week of starving.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear. I’ll happily pay for your meal.”

“Well, thanks, but I’d rather not owe you too much, so if it’s not too much trouble, the... International House of Alfalfalfalfa sounds fine.”

Rarity looked at him quizzically for a moment before smiling and nodding.

“Oh, very well dear. It’s really no trouble, but I suppose it would be easier to get into the House of Alfalfa.”

Thirty minutes later, Jonas had come to the conclusion that eating at the House of Alfalfa was not easier. He was, for lack of a better word, too big. No, not just too big. Everything around him was so fragile. When they’d been shown in and the waitress-pony had been calmed down enough to show the seven to their seats, he’d sat down and kept falling. He hadn’t even felt the chair as it folded in half and snapped like a twig. Rarity sighed theatrically, before promising the manager who’d come in a gallop fearing someone had been hurt, that she would pay for the broken chair. Chair turned to chairs, as even the metal chair they provided simply folded underneath him.

Eventually, he just sat on the ground and ate his lunch, smiling and shaking his head at any offer of a seat. They were all just too flimsy, apparently. Heck, even the cheap tiling on the floor wasn’t able to hold him, seeing as he could feel it twisting and bending beneath him. When he left there was going to be an imprint of his butt, which he found endlessly amusing in his foggy state of mind. He was still dealing with magical talking ponies, and therefore clearly still delusional, but... this was nice. There was a sense of peace, here. He’d been awake for an hour, and he could feel the peace seeping into his bones. The ponies (PONIES!) were nice, and had been nice enough to get him a salad and glass of water, and they’d really begun treating him like he was just some freakishly large guest who’d happened to fall from the sky. He found himself smiling despite his confusion.

For all he knew then, he was there to eat salads and talk to ponies (that could talk).

*Six Hours ago*

Princess Celestia sat in her throne room, reading over the latest requests passed up from her court of nobles. It had been a pleasant start to the day so far. Luna had even come to say good morning before heading to bed. The poor dear was still getting back into the rhythm of raising the moon, and it regrettably continued to take a lot out of her.

On the brighter side, Luna had seen that modern ponies love of the night life. In Canterlot, there were nightly dances and clubs and parties as the young folk rejoiced their lives and made merry. It was a slow and painful process, helping her beloved sister come out of her shell, but it was more than worth the effort. If Nightmare Night was any indication, Luna had already made notable improvements fitting in with the recent pony trends.

It had been a lonely thousand years since she had locked her madness-possessed sister in the moon, and she swore she would never allow such events to pass again.

This is why, when she felt that presence again, she did an honest to goodness spit-take. Tea splattered all over the incredibly important and now forgotten scroll of legislature, which went flying through the air as she tossed it aside. Within moments, the eternal princess was at the window, looking out. Sure enough, in the distance... fire, coming from the sky.

Roderick had escaped. It was the only explanation.

“Guards! Send for my sist-”
“I AM HERE, SISTER.”

Celestia would have giggled at her little sisters constant use of the Royal Canterlot Voice, but this was no time for laughter. The original monster had broken free.

“He’s back. He broke free somehow.”

Luna looked out the window, not just with her eyes, but she cast her senses to the wind and tasted the magic. It was foul, and old, and evil beyond belief.

“IT WOULD APPEAR SO. WE MUST SALLY FORTH TO BATTLE AT ONCE.”

“Luna, is it falling where I think it is?”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, magic channeled through her eyes, tightening, focusing, concentrating her vision until...

“HE’S HEADING DIRECTLY TOWARDS PONYVILLE! HE MUST HAVE DISCOVERED TWILIGHT SPARKLE AND THE ELEMENTS OF HARMONY!”

“There’s no time to lose. Captain Hammer!”

A rose-red pegasus almost appeared next to the sun princess, sitting at attention in perfect posture as if he’d been there the entire time.

“Gather your swiftest flyers; We move to Ponyville at all haste!”

His hoof touched above his eye in a smart salute.

“Yes, your grace!”

In a moment, the throne room was empty of life, the legal scroll lying forgotten at the foot of the throne itself, quality tea soaking into the plush carpet.

In a minute, There were thirty royal fliers, wearing only their official helmets, ornate yet practical bronze helms, the mark of a royal pegasi, the most respected and trusted of the princesses’ escorts.

Celestia marched up and down the line, inspecting each soldier with the critical eye of a princess that had seen unspeakable horrors. She paused before each pony, inspecting them not just with her eyes, but her magic, searching for every flaw in their bodies and souls.

She was satisfied with all but two. She dismissed them with the gently chiding tones of: “Your souls are not prepared for this.”

When the number was down to twenty nine pegasi including Captain Sky Hammer, standing in a perfect line.

“The beast we go to battle is my most feared foe. He will attempt to not only break your bodies, but your spirits and minds as well. Stay true to eachother, and to Equestria, and we shall have victory.”

She turned, wings flaring fully

“To Ponyville!”

And so, Princesses Celestia and Luna traveled to Ponyville, accompanied by their finest warriors, prepared to die in their bid to save Ponyville from the beast undoubtedly now tearing it asunder.

Jonas was considering just leveling the entire town.

He probably could. By all accounts, he was just... tougher than everything here. Everything. Metal doorknobs? Like paper. Chairs? Couldn’t hold up. Twilight had done some fancy magical reinforcement of her scales, and measured him. He weighed almost two thousand pounds now. He weighed a ton, could fold metal like paper, and was just stronger than anything he’d found in this world yet.

Pride goeth before the fall, as... Yoda probably said. At some point.

“How.”

Pinkie Pie looked up from the game of Tic-Tac-Toe.

“How what, Silly?”

His eyes burned into the piece of paper in front of him.

“How have you beaten me this many times in a row.”

Pinkie Pie laughed. Where earlier it had been kind of endearing, it was now the knell of madness in his ears.

“Silly! You just keep making the wrong moves!”

He looked up from the child’s game to stare at her disbelievingly.

“It’s a zero-sum game. There is no winning move without the opponent making a wrong move.”

Pinkie kept looking at him with that GRIN.

“So how... How. HOW, have I lost twenty-seven times in a row?”

She shrugged.

“Well, maybe you should stop making the wrong move and letting me win!”

He swallowed his retort and looked back down at the sheet of paper. His hand went to his mouth as he focused entirely on the sheet. There were only two moves he could make. He could either set up a row of three to be made on his next turn, or he could stop Pinkie from getting her row of three. One was forfeiting, the other was stopping her. Just like the last twenty seven times.

He marked down his X.

She circled the corner.

He blocked her new row of two.

She circled another corner, completing a row of three.

He didn’t even get angry. He just got off the floor, threw his hands in the air, and walked out of Twilight’s library. He was still... really, really, confused. But if this was a hallucination, he could do worse than surprisingly kind ponies (that talked). If he was dead and this was heaven, or hell, then.... wow. The implications were staggering.

It had been two hours since lunch, and after Twilight’s experiments he’d become completely invested in beating Pinkie Pie. Applejack had left to get her little sister from her school, Rarity had gone to her shop for a scheduled customer. Fluttershy, the sweet little dear, had gone to the woods to assure the animals that the screaming hole-crashing thing wasn’t going to come after them. Rainbow Dash had spotted an unscheduled storm in the distance and had gone to push it away, leaving just Jonas, Twilight, and Pinkie Pie.

Twilight had taken the results of her tests, and disappeared into the basement, where Jonas had caught a glimpse from the doorway of a large, comically convoluted computer type of thing. He’d been more invested in beating Pinkie Pie’s impossible winning streak at the time.

“Alright, Pinkie. You win. I’m just... I’m just gonna step outside and ignore the impossibility of what just happened.” He said to the bubblegum pink talking horse.

“Okie-Dokie-Lokie!”

He didn’t even dignify that response with one of his own. He carefully, caaaarefully grabbed the doorknob between a forefinger and a thumb, twisting the knob ever so gently before stepping outside and closing the door as softly as he could. It was now a crumpled twisted hunk of metal. Whatever. It was weird, being this careful about things that usually wouldn’t even matter, but... weird day. Weird events.

He turned from the door to come face to face with what looked like a small army of winged horses. The two in front, a dark purple one with a mane made of... something dark and flowing, and a white one taller than him with a mane of blues and greens. These two, especially the white one, were clad in carefully crafted horse (pony) armor, lending a gorgeous, yet frightening appearance to the two. Behind them, dozens of pegasi wearing bronze helmets stood in four lines of five, each watching him intently.

The two large ones glared intently, magic glowing around them as they stood. Menacingly.

He’d just gotten into a high-noon showdown with almost thirty magical ponies. Great.

Jonas’ eyes flicked from side to side. These ponies were clearly here for a fight, or... maybe this is just how the big ones say hello? He should say something, just to clear the air. His mouth opened, but the white one spoke first. Her voice was like the ringing of a bell on a warm summer sunday.

“You... are not Roderick.”

His mouth clicked shut. He glanced nervously from side to side, noting how empty the streets seemed. Aside from the large gathering of battle-ready (pffft) ponies, of course. He noticed the tiaras atop the heads of the large ponies. Princesses! Twilight’d mentioned that there were two! These were his first words to the magical rulers of this magical horse (pony) kingdom. It was of utmost importance that he be as eloquent as he could despite his situation.

“Uh. What?”

...Jonas had never been good with words. The white princess spoke again before Jonas could continue reciting poetry.

“I believe there has been a... misunderstanding. May we please come inside?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Five minutes later he was sitting on the ground in Twilight’s kitchen, watching Celestia and Luna warily as he delicately (ever so delicately) sipped some of the weird-smelling tea Twilight had kindly given him. The cup cracked, leaking tea on his pants. He barely noticed. It was barely even hot.

He sat a little straighter, looking out the window. There was a red, angry looking Pegasus that had apparently been waiting for this, as it glared at the human intensely. Jonas ducked his head, looking back to the tall princesses as if he hadn’t just been intimidated by a horse (pony) half his size.

“So. Um... Princess Celestia, oh, and Princess Luna, can I ask who this... Roderick person is?”

Twilight nodded her head as well, The faithful student stepped over to sit at the table, clearly also desiring an answer. Nobody had any idea where Pinkie Pie had gone. Apparently that was normal. Talking ponies. Normal. Heh.

There was a long, long pause as Celestia took a sip of tea. A long sip. Ok, there’s no way there’s tea left in the cup at this point. C’mon. It finally lowered, a soft glow of yellow light fading from view. That should probably be weirder. He was probably still in shock. Or concussed. Or hallucinating. Still.

“That... is a very long story, Jonas.”

Ok, that was bugging him. He was comfortable here now, he should probably just point it out. Maybe it’d make things less awkward.

“Um, my friends just call me Jon.”

Another awkward pause.

“A long time ago, Jonas, another human much like yourself came into our world. His name, was Roderick.”

“What is it?”
“Don’t touch it! It’s probably another monster!”
“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby, Celly. Look how pink it is. Pink things aren’t monsters.”

Jonas’ eyes squinted in thought as his hand came up to his mouth. “This the same Roderick you thought I was?”

“Quiet, please. I’m getting to that.”

“Sorry.”

“He was, I believe the term he used, a viking.”

Jonas did a remarkable job just accepting that detail. Vikings. Talking, magical ponies. He at least knew one was real, and the other was a viking. No, ponies. Wait. Oh, he was confused again.

“The world you ‘humans’ come from. It is so very-”

The sun-princesses voice dropped into a whisper. Her eyes were creased in... regret? It looked like regret. Jonas was not an expert.

“-tainted.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your planet. Your very world or plane of existence, is- is saturated in the most pure darkness imaginable. Before Roderick, there had never been such a concentration of rage, and of hatred, and spite, and sorrow and depression and guilt in all of Equestria. He held all those things together, in his heart."

The princess took a moment, along with another sip of tea (How was there still tea in that cup!?) to steady her nerves. Twilight’s eyes were wide at the information, and the dark princess (Luna? Pretty sure it was Luna).

“Where Roderick went, the hatred and rage of the world around him lessened. It became a brighter world wherever he walked, and at first we didn’t know why. We simply accepted it.”

Luna’s eyes, which had been impressively stoic before, looked down at the floor. The princess of the night closed her eyes and did her best not to remember the events of the story.

“He was, in fact, absorbing the negative emotions. Roderick, for all his flaws, was indeed a proud man at heart. He believed our realm to be some kind of Valhalla, a land of eternal war. In those ancient times, as Luna and I united the world to make a land for all Pony-kind, he fought at our sides. He was so... strong. Whatever world you come from is, for lack of a better word, harder. Nothing could hurt him, short of the most potent of magics.”

That explained Jonas’ own super-heaviness, at least. Good to know it was a consistent thing.

“Regrettably, absorbing the negative emotions was eating away at his soul. We had. . .no idea. We- I, saw in Roderick, an opportunity to help the entire nation of Equestria. Over years of effort, we tied his very soul to the world with his consent. Through that, he siphoned away the hatred and rage and enmity of our entire planet.”

Jonas was staring wide-eyed. He didn’t know much about magic, but this sounded like something out of a norse creation myth, or something. Granted, not many creation myths had talking ponies draining the negativity of a planet to create a utopia for talking ponies. At least, none off the top of his head...

“He took all that rage, and all that hate, and he kept it. Within days of this, Ponykind began to flourish. Where once there was petty infighting amongst the ponies of the land, there was co-operation and tolerance. Where before Luna and I had struggled to convince the tribes to unite under us, they now sought us out in the spirit of kinship. Within two weeks, there were no more great wars. The beasts of the land simply marked their territories and passively defended them. No longer would Hydras come rampaging out of the woods into pony towns every other week. Dragons remained grouchy, but would no longer devour entire villages for the sport of it. The world became pacified almost overnight.”

Jonas whistled. People joked about world peace, and he was sitting across from the magical talking pony that had actually accomplished it. With the help of a viking. Honestly, he was a little more certain that he was just pumped full of drugs right now. This was entirely in keeping with what he knew of drug-induced hallucinations. He didn’t know much about drug-induced hallucinations.

“We rejoiced, all of us but Roderick. He became withdrawn and sullen. He was suddenly a warrior with no war, and unlimited fury. He’d always been an... enthusiastic warrior, driven by bloodlust and carnage, but it had always been against his most worthy foes, be they dragons or hydras.”

“On the eve of our celebration, what is now known as Hearth’s Warming Eve, he attacked. He had become some form of monster. Fueled by hatred he battled Luna and I until with the full might of the Eclipse, we struck him down and imprisoned him, deep under the ground.”

Jonas saw where this was going. Probably somewhere informative. Hopefully. He really had no idea where this was going.

“When we felt your... magic. When we felt the deep-seated hate and raw negativity of your world, we were so sure that Roderick had escaped, and so arrived to face him once more. I apologize for the abruptness of our meeting.”

Jonas could only nod.

“I uh, accept your apology, Princess, ma’am. Not like you did anything wrong or something. But, what does ANY of this have to do with me? I mean, I was just walking, and now I’m in a land of magical talking ponies. Forgive me, but that doesn’t just happen, right?”

At first it looked like Celestia was going to answer him immediately, her mouth opened, then shut. She appeared pensive for a minute, took three more sips of tea, placed the empty cup down on the table, then looked Jonas dead in the eye.

“I... have a theory. It shall require confirmation, but the only thought that comes to mind is that Roderick has died after over a thousand years of imprisonment. Assuming this is correct, it would make sense that an ancient bond such as the Siphon would immediately seek a new subject, a new carrier of the burden. I cannot say any of this with certainty. I shall have to open Roderick’s prison to confirm, and I dare not do that without proper preparation. It shall take time.”

Jonas shrugged. Okay. Time. Time with talking horses (ponies). Sure. Great. He’d just stay here with magical talking ponies, while the god-princesses of the sun and moon (who are also ponies) went and dug up his viking ancestor who had apparently lived for a thousand years in magical prison.

“Wait, he lived for a thousand years? I mean, living a hundred as a viking is impossible, but... why would he die if he’d already made it past a thousand? That just seems kind of... arbitrary.”

The Princesses (capital p) eyes focused intently on his own. Well, he assumed Luna was focusing on him. She’d wandered to the side of the room and he could only see her in his peripheral vision.

“Hatred can only sustain a life for so long.”

A couple minutes later, the Princesses were flying back to Canterlot. Twilight walked with them to the door, and Jonas had seen the Princess speaking to her student just outside the front door. Soon after, Twilight was walking back inside. She lifted the tea cups with her telekinesis and set them into the magically powered (he assumed) dishwashing machine. She seemed troubled, but he wasn’t sure.

“So... that was the princess-es. Princesses?”

The troubled look flitted away. Probably just shock from meeting a giant bipedal titan. Yeah. Titan. Titans are cool. Jonas would like to be considered a titan.

“Yes.”

Jonas lay back on the ground, arms spreading wide as the floor creaked beneath his weight. It was nice to know that he was just denser than everything around him. Like being in a room of cotton. And also made of brick. And iron. He was a man of iron. heh.

His thoughts were still muddy. He was so sleepy...

“They seemed nice. Bit of a shock. Do you mind if I just go to sleep on your floor?”

There was darkness at the edge of his vision. Everything was so blurry. He heard her calling him Jonas. She looked worried. That’s okay... nothing a nap wouldn’t fix. Jonas... Jonas... Jonas...

“Call me Jon...”

He was asleep.

Time

Time, like all cures, can harm as well as heal.

The Beast hissed and snapped its blackened jaws, indestructible fingers of rage wrapping around the corners of stone as it pulled and tore another section of wall apart and raised itself from the wreckage. Its skin flickered with a dark flame as a grin split its face wider than should be possible. Beneath its foot was the still frame of a helpless orange mare, her forelegs snapped and oozing a sickly bright red. The Beast bent over, a flame-wreathed hand gripping the pony by the neck. A snap sounded over the crumbling of the wall. In another time not yet come, such a brutal death would be enough to shock the princess into freezing. This was not that time.

The Princess of the Sun reared, saying something the Beast could not hear. All it knew was rage. Rage and hatred and death and misery and madness and rage. It hated the tall pony. It’s pure white coat, it’s wings that caught the sunlight and danced merrily in the winds. It hated her loving smile as she watched the lives under her care take form. She had no right. No right. No right to live or to breath or to smile. That smile. That smile. That smile.

His feet dug into the ground, throwing himself towards the princess. There was a wall of golden light, sunlight. He slammed into it with his full might, and cracks appeared in the ordered perfection of magic. Dark cracks of madness and chaos spreading at the speed of thought.

The princess flicked her horn, and a burst of magic speared into the Beast’s gut. The Beast rolled with the blow, black fire flying free of its hide, splashing against the tapestries that still remained within the throne room and igniting them in unholy flames.

The Beast slammed into the stone floor before it stood, raising itself to its full height. Flames reaching ever higher as it inhaled, sucking flame and ash and air into its lungs. It screamed once again and the vibrations shook the air.

The sun shifted in the sky, shining through the holes where the windows into the throne room had once been. As its rays touched the princess' coat, she shone with an even purer light, her eyes taking on a golden glow as she channeled the might of the sun into her horn. Eternal power and might flowed and circled her form as she focused the power to the tip of her body.

The Beast lunged forwards, a growl on its burning lips.

The Princess fired the full might of the sun.

The battle continued.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Chapter 2: Time

A week had passed.

A full week. Seven days, seven nights, since he had been told of Roderick the viking and magical talking ponies had tried to figure out why he was so much denser than everything around him. Apparently, alternate dimensions (his favorite theory so far) could be composed differently, and he was ten times denser than everything around him. It wasn’t that he was stronger than he had been before, so much as it was that the universe he now inhabited was that much... weaker? Looser? Lighter.

That had been the most difficult change to get used to, the density. The entire world around him felt like it was made of cotton candy, like he could just wave his hand and tear it apart. Then eat it. Not the best analogy. But everything was so fragile! Everything he touched he had to hold delicately, lest he snap it in half. He’d begun eating finger-foods as often as he could, so his new pony friends would stop feeling obliged to pay for his wreckage. He hadn’t had any meat for weeks, and was already getting sick of this vegetarian diet. He was not looking forwards to starting that conversation: ”Hey, would you mind letting me kill and butcher and eat one of your apparently sentient friends? I’m getting a serious craving for pig-flesh” No. That wouldn’t work at all.

He did have a serious craving for bacon at this point, though.

The week had passed in a daze, meeting new people (ponies) and trying to keep up with this strange new world. Notably, there was the purple pony Twilight Sparkle, who’d set upon him like a wolf with meat. Except in this case it was a curious pony and knowledge. Not a day passed without her finding him, wherever he may be, and hounding him with questions of Earth. Questions about culture, medicine, science, anything and everything. He always did his best to answer, but... Jonas was not the most scholarly of individuals. Twilight was. He’d seen the rainbow pony around town, and seen Rarity a few times as well. The pink haired (maned) shy one had disappeared after that first day. The pink one... He didn’t want to think of the pink one.

The Apple family had been kind to him, opening the doors to their barn and inviting him to sleep there, on a nice little patch of dirt. At first he’d complained, and asked for a bed. He owed the Apple family a new bed, now. After two days of lazing about, wandering around town and getting used to the fact that he was (probably) not hallucinating, and he was itching to do something. So, he reached an agreement with Applejack, the hard-working cowpony who wore a stetson. It was telling that after a week of accepting the unacceptable, he no longer questioned the existence of pony headware. She’d driven a hard bargain, six days of work a week and rising with the sun, but it wasn’t like he had many other options.

That was how the Apple family got an unreasonably strong human working for them.

“Big Mac! This the last one?” Jonas Bailey, human extraordinaire, hoisted up another large basket of apples above his head as he called out to the red-coated stallion who was on the hill overlooking the orchid. The sun was well past the midpoint, hovering indecisively above the horizon, casting golden light across the land.

“Eeyup!” came the reply. The red stallion arched his back to show his own full basket of apples, showing them off to the human on the hill.

Jonas shrugged, slinging the basket of apples across his back. Before coming to this world, it would have been all he could do to lift this many apples with both hands. Here, it was less heavy than a carton of milk. But... he was getting used to this. Every day, waking up with the sun, which was much easier without the internet. Or television. Or Caroline...

Jonas shook his head roughly, getting his mind back to the slow plod back to the barn. Sweet Apple Acres was a lovely place. It smelled cleaner than any barn he’d ever been to. The family was lively, always smiling and dancing and working and playing. Little Applebloom was incessant in her questions, always asking about things until she had them worked out. Then asking again when it was eventually clear that she’d misinterpreted every single answer. Applejack was... plain. She was simple and wholesome as the pie she sold. Stubborn and headstrong, sure, but... nice. Closest thing to a friend he’d found in the past week. Then there was Big Mac. He and Big Mac had an understanding relationship. Almost no words were exchanged and they spoke mostly in monosyllabic grunts. They got along quite well, if Jonas were to be frank about it.

Things around here were simple. Easy. Weird, but easy. He could be happy if he’d just stop thinking about home.

If.

Twilight Sparkle, faithful student of Princess Celestia, groaned as she scanned the sheets in front of her one more time. Nothing made sense anymore. She’d quizzed Jon about every little detail about his world, and nothing made sense! They knew about magic, but they never used it! They had magic-using-humans, but dismissed them as folklore and old wives’ tales! Nonsense!

She wouldn’t even be this upset if every piece of data she looked at didn’t tell her that Jon was the exact opposite of magic. He had nothing. No magic whatsoever, which was patently impossible. Earth Ponies, often misconstrued as the least magical of ponies, had a connection to the earth at the very least. Dragons were connected to fire and wind. Even a wooden doorway would absorb trace amounts of energy by being touched by a pony. Despite this proven and demonstrable fact, Jon had no magic. Even now, when she reached out with her mind, she could taste his influence all the way across town, which was a sure indicator of magic, but the science said there was none!

Despite all this, she couldn’t quite describe the sensation she got from his... not-magic. It was something so foreign, and just wrong, that she couldn’t work out what she was sensing. Hence the extensive tests, and they told her impossible things!

“Spike! I need another book!” her voice bounced off the stairs, travelling up from the basement to the baby dragon.

“Which one?” his cry came back.

“The ‘Origins of Magical Energies Volume Three,’ please!”

She looked back to her equations, erasing a variable here and then re-adding it three seconds later when nothing made sense. He had to have magic. Had to. She could taste it even from this distance.

“Here you go, Twilight.”

She smiled gratefully as the purple and green dragon marched down the stairs, carrying a book half his size with great difficulty.

She opened the book with a flick of magic, briefly scanning the table of contents for anything that looked helpful... ah, the intrinsic connection between magic and life. Perfect.

“According to the work of Reignes Descoltes, there can be no life without magic. In fact, his work further postulates that the very existence of life creates it. So... it might be that humans project magic, but have no natural system for using it! But that doesn’t explain why none of my tests showed any signs of it to begin with...”

Grumbling, the purple-coated scientist turned around to face her elaborate calculating machine once more.

“Unless it was a mechanical error.”

“Uh, Twilight?”

“Spike. I’m going to need the pony wrench. Again.”

With that, she set to figuring out what was wrong with her machines. For the sixth time that day.

Captain Sky Hammer was a proud pony, and why not? He’d become the captain of her majesty’s most trusted, and not on the merits of birth or wealth. He’d scrambled and clawed his way to the top. The day he’d become a Wonderbolt? A proud achievement. Accepting the Captain position of the Wonderbolts? Even better. Becoming Princess Celestia’s most relied upon guard, the one pony entrusted with her personal safety? The most fulfilling turn of events imaginable. For the past ten years, he had been a step behind, and in front of his princess. When his lady had been banished to the sun by the nefarious Nightmare Moon, he had led the evacuation of Canterlot. When Discord had ruled the land, he had been the last of the royal guard to submit to the madness.

Captain Sky Hammer was a rose-red stallion pegasus. His Cutie Mark was a plain and unadorned hammer. Today, he did not wear the traditional helm of the Royal Guardians. Rather, he wore nothing, behaving as a civilian pony, just ambling about minding his business. Of course, minding his own business was Hammer-speak for “Keep an eye on that freakish pink monster by order of Princess Celestia”.

It had been a dull week. The creature had lazed about the first couple days before deciding to be useful, working on the local apple farm to pay for food and shelter. It was clearly awkward around ponies, especially given how much stronger it was than them. Over the course of the week it had left a trail of minor destruction. Little, easily fixed things. Chairs and doorways, mostly. It had gotten to the point that whenever the human wanted inside of a building, it would wait for somepony to help it open the door. It never went above the ground floor of any buildings. Last time it had, the stairs had simply collapsed underneath it after it got five steps up.

He sat down, watching as the beast finished stacking the last basket of apples. The human dragged a forearm across its brow before looking up at the sun. It bent down, touching its toes. It kept stretching, twisting and bending and working out the kinks in its joints.

Big Macintosh, the large farm-pony, came around the side of the barn. Captain Sky Hammer liked the red stallion. He was softspoken, did his work, and was clearly a family pony. The human turned, and Sky Hammer could see an exchanging of words, ending with Big Mac dipping his head in a nod. The human grinned, turned on his heels, and-

Wow.

The human was just gone. Clods of dirt ripped up from where it had been... it was running. Not just running like it was late to work, or a guard getting to his post before Sky Hammer noticed, the human was sprinting.

It was heading for the forest, so nopony was in direct danger, but orders were orders.

The rose-red stallion stood, bent his knees, and disappeared into the sky.

Jonas had no idea where he was going. He’d been packing away the last basket of apples, when he’d thought of Caroline. How sad she must be. What would she think? That he’d just disappeared? That he’d been kidnapped? That he’d run away? That he didn’t love her? That he was a coward? That he was pointless? That he was stupid? That he’d fallen and fallen and fallen and he was down, and...

He shook his head, he stretched, he had to go. He couldn’t stand still. He needed to not think. So he turned to Big Mac and asked if he was done for the day. He was.

So he ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran. He didn’t worry about the ground, he didn’t take any road, he just felt his bare feet (nobody was really knowledgeable in the art of cobbling in the land of hooves) dig into the grass and dirt, launching him forwards. He pushed himself, faster, faster, faster. He had to run until he was gone. He had to run until he was past all these thoughts, all these doubts and fears. He was at the edge of the Everfree Forest, and logically should slow down.

He didn’t. He’d been in this crazy land long enough to understand that there was nothing here that could hurt him. He was a man of steel in a land of cotton candy. He ran, branches snapping as he plowed straight through them, brambles and bushes parting as his increasingly filthy clothes brushed aside the brambles. It was weird, thinking his absolutely plain t-shirt was as tough as leather (relatively speaking). He was running, the world was a blur and he could feel a burning in his legs. Suddenly, the endorphins of that brief spurt of adrenaline wore off, and he could feel his lungs again. Oh. oh god.

He slowed to a walk as he panted with exertion, bending over, with his hands on his knees, he just took a minute. He felt better. Less sad. That was good.

He’d run into the middle of a glade, with a temptingly cool-looking pool of water in the center. The trees here were imposing, their leaves hung menacingly and densely packed, the only sunlight coming through almost directly onto the pond. It was... nice. It looked so serene and peaceful that Jonas almost regretted his incredibly disruptive panting.

Looking at the pool of water, he had a realization. He hadn’t had a good long soak in three days. The Apples had been kind enough to let him shower outside, using their hose, but no bathtubs in Ponyville were really built for the human-who-weighed-a-ton. But this pond... well, how much damage could he do to a pond, really?

And that was why, five minutes later, he was naked and cold, standing waist-deep in a pond in the middle of an enchanted forest.

He took a deep breath, before plunging his head under the water. It was like a kick in the chest it was so cold. His entire body was shivering as he thrashed underwater, feet touching the mud underneath him as he let the shock run through him. Finally, he threw his head out of the water, splashing water around him as he gasped for another lungful of air.

He couldn’t help but laugh. This world was crazy. It was beautiful. He could do whatever he wanted. Things were simple here. If he wanted to run? He’d just go running. If he wanted to take a bath in the forest, nobody’d say no. He kept laughing, plunging his head under the water and running his fingers through his hair, scratching and working at the knots in his hair. The sweat and grime of working on a farm and wearing the same thing every day was washing off his skin, pulled away by the cold water.

He surfaced again. He wasn’t quite at the center of the pool, but then again, he really didn’t want to test the depths. He could already feel himself sinking in the mud beneath him. He waded closer to the edge of the pond, finding a smooth, flat rock to sit on. He lay on it, squeezing mud between his toes as he looked up at the sky and let his mind empty itself. He missed his home. He missed Caroline. He missed his family and his sister, but he would never see any of them again.

Laying there in that pool, he found that stark truth to be unshakably sad, the unbearable truth of this loneliness. He curled into a ball there, water coming to his belly-button as he wept. Jonas Bailey was not often an expressive man. His father had raised him on the belief that a true man is an island, self-reliant and independent.

But his father wasn’t here. Nobody was here. It was just Jonas and his sadness. So he cried. He screamed and howled in sorrow. Curled up like a ball and sobbing.

He lied there for two hours. The sobs eventually quieting, his tears drying. He stood, breathing deeply and shaking his head. His hair was half-soaked from where he’d lain face-down for a while. ugh.

The sun was halfway towards setting by the time his stinking and stained t-shirt was covering him. He picked up his pants, suddenly ashamed of his nudity and the possibility of being seen, he threw the remaining articles of clothing on in a jiffy.

With a stretch and a refreshed sigh, he started making his way back towards Ponyville. He’d promised the little filly crusaders he’d share some more tales of his ‘homeland’.

Captain Sky Hammer followed at a distance once the human was done with its little crying session. He couldn’t help but judge the tall beast for such a display of emotion. Hammer well remembered his own father’s words, from the first time he’d broken his nose.

“Hammer, fillies have the right to cry and wail because they have stallions watching over them. We protect them, we tend to them, and we care for them as their guardians. What kind of a protector shows weakness?”

The young colt looked up at his father as he sniffled pathetically, now doing his best to stem the tide of tears that threatened to join the fountain of blood coming from his nose.

“A stallion, is an island. We stand alone, self-reliant, and proud.”

Sky Hammer hasn’t cried since.

So watching a human that even his Princess feared sit crying in a pond for almost two hours? Kind of disappointing. Her warnings had made the human out to be a barely contained beast of nightmares made real, of boundless fury and wrath waiting to be triggered, waiting to turn hateful eyes towards the innocent folk of Ponyville, which is when the noble Captain Sky Hammer would intercept, battling the vile monster to a standstill and-

Focus on the job, Sky Hammer.

The human was ambling, positively ambling towards Ponyville. Hammer spied a manticore in the distance, stalking after the strange intruder into the forest, but ultimately it shied away from Jonas. Interesting.

Hammer stopped, Jonas was bending over again, doing some stretches...

He was running again, and if Hammer was listening (which he was), he would have heard laughter (and he did).

“So Luke takes his father’s mask off, and they share a final moment together as father and son before the Death Star explodes, with Luke flying off in the distance. And that’s how the brave rebels defeated the evil empire.”

Jonas was sitting on the floor in Sugarcube Corner, a mass gathering of colorful fillies cheering and laughing and listening as he finished his “Tale of his homeland”. It was really just an off-the-top-of-his head remembering what he could of the plot, but what little ponies don’t know can’t hurt them.

“But- but didn’t that kill his dad!? Why would he do that?”

It was Applejack’s little sister Applebloom speaking with tears in her eyes. She was a nice enough kid, if a bit prone to collateral damage in her quest (crusade) for a ‘cutie-mark’. A cutie mark was apparently those pictures on every pony’s flank. It apparently represented what that pony was good at, or what their true calling was. In fact, Jonas was now an honorary member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, with a little cape and everything.

“Well, yes, Applebloom. But at that point his father was so corrupted by the dark side, he was going to die no matter what. It was Vader’s choice to die as a father, instead of a monster.”

She didn’t seem to understand fully, but then again, having an Equestrian upbringing will do that. Though they enjoyed his stories, most of the conflict resolutions were a bit too... final for the fillies’ tastes. Apparently, ponies were used to conflicts ending without... endings. Weird.

“But he wasn’t a monster! He was just confused!”

Jonas sighed. Great. He was having a debate on morality and its relevance to Star Wars. To an elementary school aged pony. Not the weirdest thing so far.

“He was a monster, Applebloom. That’s the entire point of Vader’s character. He was, at the same time, the hero and the villain. He became evil in his quest to do good, and eventually redeemed himself by saving his son and becoming a good man in his final moments. He’s a classic fallen hero.”

She pouted.

“But heroes don’t faaaaall!”

Well, maybe not around here they don’t.

“Ahlright, little fillies, time ta leave poor Jonas alone, we’ve got some questions of him our own selves.”

Ah, there was Applejack now, followed by Twilight. Story time for the grown-up ponies, it looks like. He raised his hands, shooing the little fillies out of his corner of the room with a wave of his hands.

“Right, you heard the lady, kids. Scamper off! Next time I might tell you of... The Lord of the Rings!”

“You told us that one already!”

“Well then you’d better leave so I can remember another one!”

Ah, youth.

The children scurried out, bantering and laughing with eachother as Twilight Sparkle came to a rest in front of the cross-legged human, eyes full of scholastic determination. Jonas grinned awkwardly, already wracking his brain to guess what she’d want to know. The first couple days had been nothing but questions about magic on earth, and she’d pushed and pushed and he’d told her everything he knew. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much in the mind of the purple coated pony.

“So, what’s the topic of the day, o great scholarly pony?”

Twilight had a scroll and a quill all ready.

“Well, I wanted to ask about your ancestor, Roderick. Princess Cele-

Jonas held a hand up, interrupting the inquisitive pony before she could get to any real line of questioning.

“Yeah, no. Roderick wasn’t my Ancestor. I’m from German, French, and Spanish stock. I have no Viking blood in me whatsoever.”

Twilight stared at him blankly. He’d used to many strange words about a strange land she’d never been to and never would for her to follow his train of thought.

“Ok, we aren’t related. The only connection I have with him, is that we both found ourselves in the magical land of talking ponies.”

“You mean Equestria.”

“There isn’t any other magical land of talking ponies, so, yeah. I guess that’s the one I’m referring to.”

There was an awkward pause. Jonas resolved to stop trying to be clever with words, because that never worked out. Ever.

“Yeah, nevermind. Point is, I’m not related to him, since I’m not a Viking. What’s your questions?”

Ignoring his awkward start, Twilight went right to the first, and obvious question.

“What exactly, is a Viking?”

Jonas shifted, feeling the wood underneath him creak and groan as he got comfortable again, taking the time to think of a properly scientific or Twilightific response.

Twilightific. oh, god. He seriously thought of that. He’s trying so hard to be clever, and he just. god. jesus. ugh.

At that point, he’d recalled what he could of Vikings and their history.

“Vikings are... were... a warrior people from the north. They lived in the cold land by the sea, where the farms didn’t grow food as well as the people on the other side of the sea. So they would pile into their boats, with axes and swords, and they’d sail to those neighbors and burn their villages and steal all their food and kidnap the women to sell as slaves, or keep as wives. I think.”

Twilight couldn’t help but flinch. After a week of long talks with Jonas when he wasn’t earning his keep on the farm or entertaining the fillies, he’d been talking about his homeland to her. It was still unsettling, to consider that a world could be so... callous. In Equestria, murder was almost inconsiderable. It wasn’t just taboo, it was... it was unimaginable. Nobody would get in a fight and say ‘oh, well, now I’ll just kill you then.’ but Jonas came from a land where that wasn’t just a reasonable conclusion, but apparently the most common one!

“Let’s see, they worshipped the Norse pantheon of gods, Thor and Odin and them... uh, they were really proud of their fighting skills, and their skill at sailing. And... yeah, that’s about it.”

Twilight’s quill somehow kept pace with his words as he listed off everything he could, before she pressed him for more answers, how long Vikings had been around, if they were still a nation, if they used any real magic or if they were just more stageponies like the rest she’d been told of. Jonas kept up to the best of his ability, answering each question as best he could and correcting her misconceptions when she got something flagrantly wrong. (Vikings weren’t a unified nation, but a designation of people).

Then the questions turned to other things, like all the nations he’d mentioned earlier, Germany, France, etc. He’d explained the U S of A to Twilight before, as best he could, but he really was not (and he stressed this over and over again) a reliable source of information. Halfway through the latest round of interrogation, Applejack (who had passed the time chatting with the Cakes (the ponies, not the objects. (Duh.))) was kind enough to bring over a metal cup filled with water for Jonas to sip from. He was grateful, and did his best not to bend and crush the thing too much. For the most part.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only one, the questions stopped. They were finally done for the day. Jonas realized he’d been sitting far too long. He unfolded his legs carefully, making sure nopony was going to be in his way as he cautiously shifted his weight to his feet slowly. If he moved too quickly it would doubtless result in a dent in the floor. Finally, he stood at full height, hair almost scratching at the roof. He made his way to the door, hand idly stretching out to grab the knob before he paused. His eyes narrowed at the door before he turned, casting a pleading look towards Applejack.

Applejack wasn’t looking, busy as she was making small talk with Mr. Cake about something Jonas just couldn’t bring himself to be interested in. He looked at Twilight, who was similarly occupied, scratching down further notes and checking them against his own word-for-word account she’d managed to transcribe.

So. It was just him. Him, and the door. In the back of his mind, he heard the fiddling of a banjo and the tumbling of a weed.

He reached his hand out, gently, carefully... He figured he couldn’t do too much damage if he just used two fingers, and despite the logical part of his brain he wanted to do this. He was getting kind of tired of asking ponies half his size to open the door for him. He had all kinds of excuses as to why opening the door on his own was a good decision.

Slowly... his pointer finger rested gently on the top of the doorknob. His thumb, moving as a pincer, gently touched the lower edge. He tried to turn his entire wrist to the side as slowly as possible. He just ended up dragging his fingers around the side. He was turning his wrist, not the doorknob.

Ok. Not a problem. Just a bit more pressure.

He was moving so excruciatingly slowly, it was maddening. But he was committed to this task, and would see it through. in his mind, the knots in the wood of the door were a smirking face, mocking his inability to open a simple door.

The knob clicked open, and he was free. The door swinging silently inwards. He’d done it, without damaging anything or anyone! Ha! Take that, door! After a week of failure, success!

“Yeah!”

He pumped a fist into the air, and that was his mistake. It ripped through the wooden floor above him like it was a wet tissue, and he heard Pinkie Pie’s startled cry come from above.

“Oh. Uh...”

He pulled his arm through the ceiling as carefully as he could, still managing to knock slivers of wood down to the floor despite his caution. In the end it was him standing next to an open door, under a hole in the ceiling from which Pinkie’s excited voice could be heard babbling about the “Magical Fist-o’-Doom” trying to think of a proper excuse to give to the Cakes.

“I can pay for that.”

“Y’know ya coulda asked fer help with the door.”

It was a long walk back to Sweet Apple Acres, when one had to discuss one’s inability to leave a building without causing an unreasonable amount of property damage (read: any amount of property damage).

“I think I can handle a door, Applejack.”

A pause.

“I thought I could handle a door.”

The next several minutes were spent in companionable silence as they walked across Ponyville. Her hoofbeats offset by the strange rhythm of his strides. He watched as the birds sang and swooped through the air back towards their nests. The sun was setting in the horizon, setting the sky afire with a splash of reds and oranges. At the sound of a cough below him Jonas realized he’d stopped in the middle of the road to stare into the distance.

“Uh... sorry.”

She smiled back. There was something strange about it, Jonas couldn’t place the anomaly though. It was an honest smile. It was familiar. Something missing. Whatever. He’d worry about it later, for sure.

“No problem, sugarcube. Let’s just git back before it’s dark out!”

It was a pleasant walk, besides the issue of the smile.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

She was sitting at her desk, a pencil clutched tightly in her fingers. He could see her. He was right here. He was just right here. Turn around. Caroline. Turn around. Caroline?

Tears. She was crying. Shuddering with sobs that she held back. Why? Caroline? Why? Turn around, Caroline. Caroline, turn around. Caroline?

The room was dark. It was their room. It was where he’d spent hours laying with her, hand playing through her hair as they whispered loving secrets and thoughts and desires for hours. Where he’d kissed her atop her head when she’d fallen asleep. She wasn’t asleep. She was crying. The room was dark. There was no room?

He was further away. He was getting further, but those sobs, they were so loud. He had to hold her. He had to make it right. His feet lifted. He ran.

Wind. There was wind. Whipping into his face, catching his brown hair as he struggled, feet digging into smoke and shadow as he ran. Caroline. He ran so fast, but she was so far. Caroline. There was a wall, and he didn’t even pause. His fist was through, he was through. Caroline.

I never forgot.

Caroline.

I would never leave you.

Caroline.

Siphon.
Caroline.
Love.
No.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He awoke with a start, his mouth opened in a gasp, pulling dirt and hay off the floor into his mouth. The next few seconds were spent choking and coughing and spitting, trying to get the taste of hay and dirt out of his mouth. He rolled over. He was in the barn, laying to the side of the mat he’d fallen asleep on. He must have been dreaming. Again. Of home.

It wasn’t like the subject hadn’t been approached, it’s just that nobody had any clue how to help. Even Twilight Sparkle, his go-to source for any and all information about this world had no idea how to break the boundaries between dimensions (Still his favorite theory) and get him home.

One week. He was definitely under the presumed dead section of missing people. Wasn’t it something like seventy two hours before someone was considered a lost cause? He didn’t know. He should get back to sleep, but after seeing...

He wasn’t going back to sleep.

Up he went, groaning as he cracked his back. His face was smothered in a fine layer of dirt, hay was clinging to the side of his mouth which felt strangely wet. He’d been drooling. Great. He needed a bath, a real good bath, just like earlier...

His eyes flicked towards the forest that lurked at the edge of the Apple family’s land.

What was the harm?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Captain Sky Hammer did not hate the human. No. Hate was something the Princesses would never abide. Theirs was a utopia of peace and harmony. Harmony above all else. Therefore, Sky Hammer did not hate the human.

He did, however, hate having to race after the human. Especially after being woken from such a nice dream...

Irrelevant. His duty was to observe and intercept if necessary.

The human was tromping along the same path as last time, obviously heading for the pond. Great. More crying. Sky Hammer flew ahead, finding a more comfortable perch than last time, high above, well shrouded by the leaves... excellent visibility of the target location. Perfect.

His hooves settled on the untamed branch, sure footed thanks to his pegasine sense of balance. He hunkered down, eyes narrowing as the human finally burst into the clearing below. It shed its clothes once again before settling into the water with an indulgent sigh.

For half an hour they stayed that way, the human luxuriating in the water, thankfully not crying.

Then, a disturbance. Sky Hammer’s ears caught it first. Noise, silent but there. Something big, too big to hide entirely. Predator. There was a predator coming to the water... He stood slowly, preparing to dive and do his duty. But...

Observe.

Then intercept.

He sat back down. He’d see how this played out. It was his duty.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

This was the life. Sitting in mildly warm water, watching the first rays of dawn slide through the foliage. It was great. Jonas sighed as he slid even further into the water. He’d found a nice rock under the water, so he didn’t need to worry as much about drowning in the mud. Being dense was nice on solid ground. Water, not so much.

He let the worries just take a backseat. This was nice. He should start every day this way. To just forget worries and cares and slide down till only his nose was above the water... comfort. He liked this comfort of warm water, watching the light catch and play against the green.

A crunch amongst the foliage. Huh. A pony? He opened his eyes and sat up just enough that he wasn’t talking into the water.

“Hey! Don’t come over here, I don’t have my clothes!”

There was a long pause, and for a moment Jonas thought that the pony had left. This was followed by another, closer, crunch. He stood on the rock, the water now coming up to his shins.

“Hey!”

A head emerged from the foliage. A lion’s head.

“Hey...”

It was a lion.

“Shit.”

No. Wait. It had wings. Dark, batlike wings that spread wide behind it, but not wide enough to conceal the... scorpion tail. It was a lion that could fly and sting. Worse, there was anger in its eyes. It reared upon its back legs before issuing a deep-throated roar of challenge.

Twin footprints embedded in the rock as Jonas leapt out of the water, terror filling his legs with strength. Naked and wet and cold he ran. The roar behind him told him the monster was following.

“Christ in a handbasket! Why in the fu-”

Something surprisingly heavy slammed into his shoulders from behind, sending him tumbling down to the ground. Rock and moss scattered as his head slammed into a stone. His arms were splayed wide from the fall, his mouth full with the taste of dirt. He felt saliva drip onto his face as the lion thing... growled.

Nonononononononononono

He felt teeth on his shoulder followed by bright, searing, rage.

“GET OFF!”

He rolled, hands pushing himself and the creature over, his shoulder slamming into teeth and feeling slimy tongue. No no no no-

“GET OFF OF ME!”

He was facing it now, knees and feet scrambling in the dirt as a hand found its way to the creature’s mane. The stinging tail whipping faster than his eye could follow, slamming into his arm three times as he pulled the monster’s face away from him. Its feline eyes, shining a primal gold, met his and for a moment he felt calm.

The moment ended, and his free hand slammed into the creature’s mouth, fingers wide and feeling the sharpness of the teeth as he flailed madly at the creature, his mind consumed by fear and panic and rage.

Four times his hand slapped into the creature’s mouth before he lost his grip of its mane, dark brown hair clinging to the sweat and water of his hand as the beast leapt away from him, disappearing into the darkness.

That’s when he noticed the blood on his hands. Bright red. His blood was bright red. He didn’t know why that was such a surprise, but it was. His hand was covered, shining a bright crimson. That’s not good. He’s not supposed to be staring at his arm and marveling how much blood was now outside his body. He should... Doctors. He needed a doctor. Nearest doctor was a pony. What was that thing he’d thought last week? Proper pony-applied medical care? Yeah. That sounded good now.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Help! I need help! Hello!? I’m hurt!”

Jonas stood outside the homely hospital from his first day in the land of ponies, his arms hung loosely at his sides. As he’d walked back to town, he’d realized that he didn’t feel hurt at all. At first, he’d been relieved to know that he wasn’t going to die... until he remembered the tail of the creature that had attacked him. Scorpion tail. Scorpions were poisonous (or was it venomous?). He couldn’t feel the injuries because of the venom(poison). He tried not to run after that, what with the poison(venom) in his bloodstream.

Thankfully, the pony doctor burst out the door in seconds, stethoscope at the ready. Upon seeing a blood-drenched, panting human, he quickly realized his stethoscope would not be enough for the job.

“Inside! Can you walk?”

Jonas nodded mutely, trying not to worry about the venom doubtlessly pumping through his veins this very second. His legs carried him up through the doors, down the hall, into the white-washed room. He was on autopilot. Just don’t think. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everything- what’d the doctor say?

“-happened to you? Sir? Can you hear me?”

Jonas shook his head. Was he in shock? Is this what shock was like? Why couldn’t he focus? He was so scared. Why couldn’t he focus?

“Sir! I need you to tell me. What happened!”

He found his throat. It was connected to his mouth. He figured it out from there.

“Manticore. In forest. Bit me. Tail stung me.”

The doctors eyes narrowed. The demeanor of a professional accepting the terms of a job. His hooves passed over Jonas’ arm quickly, probing and feeling gently for... Lacerations, probably.

Jonas zoned out again, mind going to a quiet place as he tried to not panic. Minutes passed, the doctor returning with a... showerhead in his teeth?
“What’s the-”

“I can’t find the injuries. I’m going to have to clean the area before I can apply any proper care.”

Jonas’ voice felt very small.

“oh.”

Another minute of warm water on his skin. A pause, a moment of inactivity noticed only in its serenity.

“Doctor?”

“You’re not hurt.”

That got his attention, snapping his mind from the stupor it had been in.

“What?”

“That blood wasn’t yours. You’re fine.”

Relief and confusion were like old friends meeting on a train in his mind.

“But... the sting? I felt so... numb and confuse-”

Classic symptoms of shock. He’d seen it on television enough times to know. It’s always shock. Oh. Oh damn.

The awkward moment seemed to stretch into forever.

“So. If that’s all, I have other patients to attend to.”

“Uh... yeah. Sorry.”

It was the most surreal hospital visit he could remember that also involved a pony for a doctor.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sun was just dawning when their magical excavation was complete. Finding the cube had been no real challenge. A simple probing into the aether and they found the sinkhole of the cube. A place where magic was absorbed and drawn to. A place of ley lines and power. Luna had spent the entirety of last night digging the rest of the way, a task made more challenging by the presence of Canterlot built into the mountain. Labyrinthine side tunnels and sewage drains depositing the waste of an entire city-castle into the other side of the mountain. Now, Celestia was here to raise the cube. The eternal prison of the ancient viking, Roderick.

Raising the earth around the cube was the easiest solution, moving a ton of earth to carry almost twenty tons of cube and Roderick... was not the easiest of tasks. It took her an hour of concentration, during which the slightest lapse would have sent her prize tumbling back into the darkness. In the end, however, she stood atop the mountain facing the cube. It was made of pure obsidian, a material known for its magical dampening qualities. Engraved along the side were two hundred and seventy six names. They were the names of the two hundred and seventy six ponies whose Princesses had been unable to save them. They were the ponies lost in the final battle against Roderick.

Princess Celestia would rather have cast the cube back into the darkness to let it be forgotten once more... but there were answers that she needed contained within that eternal prison.

Her hoof pulled free of her golden slipper. For a moment, she was a thousand and more years back, locking the cube for all of time. It had been so final, then. She had never thought that the ley lines would... irregardless. Her mistakes had been made. It was her duty to deal with them.

Her hoof fit snugly into the impossibly small indentation in the center of the cube. Moving the center a single inch backwards, before turning. A gear shifted with the hoof. Followed by another gear, and another. Soon, a chain reaction was sparked. A hundred gears shifting and moving and twisting within the cube, releasing a hundred more locks. The cube groaned and shifted atop the mountain as its doors opened for the first time in over a thousand years.

The air within smelled of death. As her light found its way into the cube, her suspicions were correct. All that remained within was a corpse. A perfectly preserved corpse of her... friend. It sat against the wall opposite her, as if he had been waiting for the day she would release him. His entire body looked like he had just fallen asleep with his grey eyes open. His lips were pursed together, as if he’d just seen something disgusting. Perhaps he had, in the end. His beard was as bushy as she had remembered it being, though unbraided. The hairs were cloud white with age but no less thick than she remembered. She couldn’t move. He still wore the same fur that he’d been wearing when he’d been thrown into the cube. The fur of his first kill in Equestria. A manticore. The sudden rush of memories from a time she’d ignored for so long was too much. Tears came to her eyes, and for a moment she was a young princess, trying to unite a war-torn and chaotic realm.

“Hello. Roderick.”

The corpse did not answer. She almost expected it to.

She had her answer. The ley lines had been tied to a human soul. With Roderick’s passing, they had sought out another. There would always be a human in Equestria to shoulder the burden forced on them.

It was a less satisfying answer than she hoped for. It was exactly what she had feared.

Her head turned towards Ponyville. She had to talk to Jonas Bailey. To explain... to set things right. She would not have another human turned against her by rage. She would befriend him. She would shelter him and help him to adjust to Equestria. She would...

She would come up with a plan. But first... a burial.

A burial that was a long time coming.

Unreal

Be careful with words. Once said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.

Water. It had always been her favorite element. The wind was fun, but too light and carefree for her tastes. Moving the earth beneath her was an interesting study in will and power, but not what anypony would consider ‘fun’. Fire was her sisters domain, far too flighty and showy. She loved water for revealing things, twisting them and reflecting them. It was the only element to truly appreciate her moon, like fire did the sun.

The moment of peace and reflection passed when she had gathered the strength to lift the river. She was a god, an alicorn descended of the heavenly bodies unto this land as the personification of forces that could not be understood. Even still, lifting the entire river as it flowed, directing it through the air to smash into the Beast was no easy task. It left her heaving for air, sweat dropping across her brow as she maintained the magic. Slitted eyes watched the Beast struggle not to drown, his hands clutching and swatting and fighting, his feet digging for purchase in the mud. Finally it could struggle no more and was blown back to follow the current. The Princess gritted her teeth, twisting the current high, high into the sky, as if reaching to her beloved moon...

She released the spell with a gasp that neither her sister nor her foe could hear. The battle was wearing them, slowly but assuredly towards defeat. They had begun ever more desperate attacks, their previously controlled blows now levelling the land around them. The Court had been torn asunder by the force of the Sun Princess’ blasts and the Beasts furious retorts. The forest around them still burned.

Through agonized breaths, she managed a small “Now, sister.”

The Beast could not scream for lack of air as it fell from the sky, hands flailing as the black fire streaked behind it. As the Beast fell, a white figure ascended on wings of golden flames past it, looping around in a tight arc to face the Beast.

The Princess of the Moon watched as a pillar of holy fire shot down from her sister, engulfing the Beast’s own dark flames as the pillar continued downward, cooking the muddy ground into hard lumps of dirt before the white-hot flame even touched them. It was like the skin of a star distilled through her sisters open mouth. The earth exploded as the Beast crashed against the ground.

For a minute, there was blessed silence, and for almost a second the Princess of the Moon convinced herself that the Beast was not getting up after such a titanic blow.

A moment later a flame-wreathed hand emerged from the ground beneath her, fingers outstretched for her neck.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Chapter 3: Reality

Jonas Bailey, human extraordinaire, sat alone on the grass by the cafe table. He was having a... well, he wouldn’t call it coffee. Another sip. No, it certainly was nothing like coffee. It had a tang to it, as if there was fruit involved. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what he had ordered. The sun was high now, almost midday. He’d spent the morning wandering in a daze after the hospital. Nobody was brave enough to question him on the blood-stained shirt and pants. The ponies simply saw him and went the other way. That was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine.

Another sip.

He was the only one at the cafe. There had been two other ponies, but they’d lost their appetites as he sat down at one of the tables. He’d ordered... whatever this was. The drink had arrived with haste and he hadn’t seen the waiter since. His mind was buzzing. Literally buzzing with... with a headache. No caffeine for a week after living the college life was- no. That was an excuse. His head hurt because... because it did. He didn’t know. It hurt. Maybe it was the caffeine. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been mauled but not mauled. Maybe it was because he still stank of blood that wasn’t his. Whatever. His head was killing him.

Another sip.

So the lion mons- manticore, hadn’t hurt him. Alright. Fine. So... what. He was superman? He was the man of steel in a world of cardboard? Fine. A steel human in the land of magical talking ponies. Heh. Ponies. He’d been here a week, and... ponies. He was living in a land of magical... talking ponies.

“Heh.”

He laughed. It was a dry, choked little thing, but it was a laugh nonetheless. He’d just... he’d just gotten away with being tackled by a manticore and having his shoulder chewed on. He’d... He was...

Another sip. The ceramic cup was nearly empty, and what little of the mystery drink dribbled out of the hairline cracks spreading through the ceramic. Whatever. He dropped the ceramic, and it shattered on the grass. Instinctively, his bare feet (where had his shoes gone?) flinched away from the doubtlessly sharp edges. He could distinctly remember slicing his foot open on the fragments of a ceramic cup when he was nine.

He sat there, rocked back on his haunch as he stared warily at the pieces as if they would spring up and attack him. A strange, daring thought came to him. A realization of fact and truth based on the morning’s experience. For half a moment he considered the madness of what he was doing. The next moment his open palm slammed into the jagged edge of the largest piece. He stared, breath held in rapt fascination as he lifted his hand, ready to see an inch of ceramic wedged into his flesh. Ready to see the crimson flowing from his body and to feel the slicing and tearing of his skin as the shock of his stupidity wore off.

Instead, he was staring at flawless (well, unharmed) skin. The ceramic was... dust. It had shattered even further under his hand. He could pick out the shining remains amongst the grassy handprint in the ground. He wasn’t hurt. He was fine. He was more than fine... he couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t be hurt. Why hadn’t this occurred to him? All those times... the ceiling of the Cakes, the metal cups, the tree branches and ground... he should at least have scrapes and bruises on his skin but he was fine. He was invulnerable.

It’s a strange thing, the moment a man realizes his own strength. For some it is the time they simply pull a door too hard. For others it is the first time they overpower their father in a test of strength. For Jonas it was that moment outside a pony cafe, staring at his hand and the dusty remains of a fragment of ceramic.

He stood, still staring at his hand as it shook. His eyes went to a far-off place and he began walking, the yells of the waiter falling on deaf ears as he simply started walking along the road, not looking back.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was another wonderful day on the edge of the Everfree. All of her little friends were gathered around their morning meals. Even Angel Bunny seemed to be in a good mood today, only throwing his salad at her once, and he’d settled down after that. Her friends had often complained about her little angels personality, but she knew he meant well. Angel just had some issues with letting ponies in. He could be the sweetest most kindest little darling when he was helping her care for all her other critters. As all of her friends ate and she nibbled at some oats herself, she went to all the expecting mothers. Her friends the hedgehog family were expecting another litter, meaning that Hedgemama got extra berries with her breakfast while her sweetheart fussed and worried and kept chirping at Fluttershy to make sure his beloved was healthy and ready.

“Oh, no Mr. Hedgehog, she’s doing just fine. Look! She’s due next week. Oh don’t worry, I’ll have everything all set up for her.”

Life was good for her little friends here on the edge of the forest. Breakfast was a morning ritual that all her critters enjoyed. The peacefully chaotic hubbub of so many little friends meeting and chirping and chattering and singing and eating. Oh it just filled her heart with joy! So much that she just wanted to sing! Her opened wide, sucking air deep into her lungs...

Oh, on a day so bright as thi-

She stopped like she’d hit a wall. All her friends stared at her quizzically. They liked it when she sang, so why had she stopped? Fluttershy however was frozen, eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at the trees of the forest. Her little critters saw it next, a lumbering beast stumbling into the front lawn. It was Manfred the Manticore, one of her more reclusive friends, and his face... oh his face...

She was flying towards him, reaching him in a heartbeat. Her hooves caught his faltering paw and she helped guide him towards the side of the house. It wasn’t often she helped the larger friends of the forest, but she’d set aside a nice empty room for such an occurrence. Manfred collapsed into the center of the room, his breath ragged and hot, Fluttershy could feel flecks of his blood against her face. There was so much blood, just gushing from the open gaping wound where half his cheek had been, teeth stained a bright red as the pink tongue shook and twitched behind them... No. She was a caretaker of animals, she would panic later. Right now though, she had to clean the injury.

An hour later and she was finished. His snout was smashed in on the left side, and he’d lost thirteen teeth in total. Four had been knocked free entirely and nine had been too damaged for any dental work to repair. His left eye had been hit and was already swollen shut, but she was sure he would be fine. She had his muzzle gauzed up as thoroughly as she could, along with a healthy application of antibiotics. He regrettably would need a muzzle for the next three weeks to ensure he didn’t re-open his injuries. He wouldn’t be able to feel anything in his muzzle due to the local anaesthetic. But now it was important to find out who or what had done this to him. Manfred was the top predator within the nearest edge of the woods. If something scarier had moved in, she had to know so she could warn all her other little friends.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?”

The manticore weakly nodded his head, a pitiful groan coming from his throat.

“Shhh, there there, can you describe to me what did this to you?”

The visible eye widened as its pupil shrank. Manfred tried to open his jaw, but the gauze and tape held it shut. He whined again before holding up his paw. It bumped against her leg, before holding up two of his fingers.

“It had two legs?”

Manfred nodded slowly.

Fluttershy could only think of a few creatures that only used two legs: Cockatrices, Hydras, Dragons, and... Jonas. She’d just have to narrow it down.

“Did it have a tail?”

Manfred moved his head from side to side.

“Did it have claws?”

He shook his head.

Oh no.

“Was it pink? Taller than a pony?”

Manfred was nodding as vigorously as he could. There was no denying the truth, then. A cold shiver raced up her back at the realization. Her new friend Jonas had seriously hurt her old friend Manfred. If Jonas could hurt a manticore so badly, what could he do to a pony? Manfred’s injuries were fresh...

“Oh dear. Oh dear...”

Jonas had hurt Manfred so badly, and he was in the middle of a town full of ponies! Full of Fluttershy’s friends, Jonas hadn’t hurt anypony before but if he hurt Manfred he might have gone crazy! Why would he hurt her friend so badly? Was he scared? Was he angry? Why did he do this to Manfred?

“I have to warn them!”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sky was blue. That was fact. That was solid, and demonstrable. He could point at the sky and tell anyone that passed ‘That sky is blue’ and they would agree. They would ask why he was pointing out the obvious, but that only helps prove the point. The sky being blue was true for his entire life. When he was five years old on his back at the playground, looking up through tear-stained eyes he saw blue sky behind the head of his tormentor. Blue sky. It was always blue. That was constant.

Grass was green. It had always been green. He remembered walking down the stuffy art museums hallways for hours with Caroline. Seeing green grass in paintings hundreds of years old. He could see it on the field where he’d first been kicked in the balls for not paying up. Grass was green. That was constant.

Trees were tougher than him. That was a constant. When his father had died in the crash, he’d gone out back of the house and broken two knuckles on the wood. The tree hadn’t been dented. There had been no sign of his anger on that tree behind the house. Trees were tougher than him. That was constant. That was a constant. That never changed. Unmovable. Constant.

His fist was lodged wrist-deep in a tree at the side of the path. He hadn’t even put his full weight behind the blow. He’d just snapped out, and the tree had given way. The tree was weaker than him. The tree was no longer a constant. Logically speaking, there was only one situation in which constants became inconsistent. Dreams. Dreams or madness. To the dreamer (or madman) the difference is all semantics, right? So, this was all just a long dream. An impossible dream. With ponies.

His hand extricated itself from the tree. No pain. No blood. Just flecks of bark and wood stuck to his skin. His hand shook four times before coming up to his neck. A week without shaving. Itchy. Hopefully he’d wake up before he grew some hideous neckbeard. That would be just embarrassing.

“Hey buster!”

Oh great. Rainbow Dash. The jock who spent all her time flying around. Possibly the closest to a genuinely abrasive pony he’d met so far. She was speeding towards him at a breakneck pace, wings flaring wide a mere twenty feet from him bringing her to an impressive stop mere inches from his face. Her eyes were violet, he idly noticed. They were also surprisingly large.

“What.”

Normally he’d entertain her with niceties and politeness. Normally he wasn’t aware that the world around him was little more than a dream. Smoke and mirrors of a weird psyche. That’s all. He’d wake up and Caroline would be there, admonishing him for being silly enough to dream of horses. His eyes closed and he could almost see her golden hair.

“-to you, mister!”

Something was touching his shoulders. Trying to shake him, but only managing to budge him. Like being punched by a two year old. Small. His eyes were open and filled with something sad and broken. He spied a shockingly pink mane. Oh. Fluttersky was here. He’d seen her the least of all the ponies. She stayed way out of town, and was rarely on the farm like he and Applejack were.

“What were you saying?”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed even further, her hooves were no longer on his shoulders, instead she was jabbing one hoof into his chest in accusation, poking harder and harder with each word for emphasis. He barely felt a thing.

“You hurt Fluttershy’s friend! You beat his face in and you’re here in lala-land acting like you don’t even know what’s wrong!”

Oh. Her name was Fluttershy, not sky. In regards to the second half of her sentence... Well. That was odd. He hadn’t hit anybody in Ponyville. He’d broken that cup earlier, but he didn’t think he- wait. No.

“The manticore in the woods? Is this about that?”

Her hoof smacked into his head. He heard it more than he felt it. Like being hit with a bag of cotton balls. Soft. Delicate. Weak.

“Don’t act like you don’t know! You beat his face in! Fluttershy told me! Now you’re gonna apologize to Fluttershy, and to Manfred, and then... Then...”

Her words failed her, so she let out a cry of frustration. It was a mix between a ‘grr’ and a ‘aargh’. She wanted him to apologize to that monster? Manfred? Manfred the Manticore? Is that a goddamned joke?

It was like a spark in a box of gunpowder. There was a fire in his belly, scorching his insides as it twisted and coiled. His mouth opened, and he laughed. He laughed right in her face. He laughed so hard he doubled over and gasped for breath, the laugh tinged with a diseased need for release, a tinge of desperation and pain that boiled beneath the surface. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed as Rainbow backed away, her eyes wide with fear and indignation.

She watched him stand, working up the courage to interrupt this madness when the laughter ended. The absence of it was a void that seemed to fill the field, an unearthly chill that seeped to her bones.

“No.” His voice was calm. Unnaturally calm. Not the calm of a peaceful soul. Not the calm of harmony. His calm was that of a terminally ill patient. Of someone gone but not there yet.

“I’m not apologizing to some monster for fighting it off. That’s ludicrous. What’s his excuse? He was playing tag with his teeth? He just wanted a morning cuddle?”

He was advancing on them. Step by step. His calm melting like ice exposed to fire. Fire. Fire was right. That’s what it was inside of him. Twisting, snarling. It wanted out. He had no reason to deny it. Rainbow Dash was crouched beneath him as his madness-filled eyes looked down on her. Her wings were flared out, hiding the cowering Fluttershy from his view. Irrelevant. Weak. Pathetic. Illusions.

He heard her voice but the words were from so far away. Like hearing someone scream as you drowned. Drowning in this fire that had wormed from his heart to his mind to his eyes and ears and throat. His hands. They were reaching out. To what? The blue pegasus beneath him screamed. Hooves hit skin, her wings pushed down, lifting her. He had her. He was grabbing her hind leg and he knew just what to do. The fire whispered it to him and he knew he knew he knew he knew it like he knew how to breathe. The fire had taught his fingers long ago. He knew. Something slammed into his back, his fingers slipped from the pegasus and then-

Green. Light green that cut like ice. Those eyes... they were like blades of frosted steel and venom. Suddenly there was a liquid in his veins, flowing from his eyes to his heart and his arms and then freezing, numb fingers slipping free as the green eyes cut deep into his soul and his mind, bringing numbness. Order. He couldn’t blink. The fire was gone, no longer whispering its secrets into him nor giving him purpose. Instead his body was filled with a powerless pain. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt his mind start to fade away. The eyes were still there. They would always be there and had always been there. There was no before and there would never be an after. Just those terrible. Horrific. Eyes.

He came back to life suddenly. His muscles spasmed and brought him crashing to the ground. He gasped and coughed and spluttered as he sucked in mouthfuls of air, trying to stand on numb legs and failing. He couldn’t feel his arms but he saw them weakly propping him up. Black spots swam across his vision as he looked around. There’d been two ponies, confronting him about... something. Manticore. The manticore! They’d wanted him to... apologize. He’d felt something, and then eyes. Teal eyes. Fluttershy’s eyes. She’d done something to him. Something that had done this to him...

He looked around again. He was alone on the side of the path between the farm and the town. They’d left. He’d scared them, they’d tazed him (with eyeballs?) and run, but that didn’t mean they weren’t coming back. He’d been about to hurt them, and they’d hurt him back. He stood on shaky legs, leaning against the tree for support. They’d be coming back. They’d get all their friends and they’d do some more of that eyemagic, and then he’d be up a famous creek.

For a moment he considered laying down and just letting them. It was all just a dream, what did it matter? The moment passed and he took off running for the woods. If he was dreaming, or having some nightmare, he’d at least be able to give a proper story about it. Because “I let a bunch of ponies experiment on me with magic” doesn’t sound as good as “I ran from a bunch of magical ponies who wanted to magic me.”

That last thought gave him pause. Both options sounded pretty terrible, but at least one didn’t involve being experimented on.

He stumbled off towards the forest, set on avoiding the retribution for hurting the ponies pet manticore and threatening them. He just needed to be alone. He just needed to wake up.

He just needed Caroline.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Captain Sky Hammer was not tired from sprinting all the way to the library while carrying two mares. He was a bit out of breath, but he was far from tired. The blue one, Rainbow Dash, was complaining quietly about her leg. The other one, Fluttershy, was shivering where she lay on the ground in front of the tree. Sky Hammer called out to the librarian, and was met by silence. The human was probably already on its way towards the town now, meaning it was Sky Hammer’s duty to get word to the Princesses at any cost. The cost at this moment included the library’s front door. With a single buck, it flew from its hinges and he was inside.

“Twilight Sparkle!”

He heard the crackle of electricity downstairs. The basement door suffered the wrath of his hooves and bounced down the stairs. He leapt down, wings guiding him to land beneath the startled unicorn in a labcoat. The dragon she kept was wearing goggles and had dropped a clipboard.

“Who are y-”

His hoof was over her mouth. She hadn’t even seen him move.

“No time. Your friends are here. They are injured. Send a note to Celestia, inform her the human has become hostile. Protect Ponyville. I will delay the monster.”

His hoof was away from her face and he was halfway up the stairs before she could respond.

“But- Wait! Why is Jo-”

He was gone. She had her orders and would act on them. Time was more important than explaining himself. He had to buy them that time.

He passed Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash on his way out. They opened their mouths to question him. He simply moved faster, leaping into the sky before they could ask anything of him. They would comply. They knew firsthand what they were facing.
His wings beat against the sky. Time to fight a monster.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jonas stood at the edge of the wood. He’d jogged a good mile at this point, but there was an issue he had failed to consider when he began running. The issue was plain as day before his eyes. Footprints. He’d left size ten footprints leading all the way through the grassy fields he’d been moving through to the point where he’d been hit with the eyemagic. He was leading them right for him, meaning... Meaning he’d have to find somewhere rocky. Somewhere his movements wouldn’t be easy to follow. Ok. Simple enough.

He’d caught his breath a minute later. Standing tall and casting one last look towards Ponyville, he began to turn away. Which is when the red pegasus landed heavily in front of him. This one was almost Big Mac’s size, a lighter shade of red than the farmpony. His eyes were (don’t look) irrelevant. Jonas locked his gaze on the wings. They were larger than the other pegasus’ he’d seen. Odd. His hooves had golden hoofboot-things on them, with what looked like a single spike on the external side. Fantastic.

“So are y-”

His eyes registered the pegasus’ movement, but his body was to slow to react.. The winged horse pounced at him as its wings beat downwards. Its metal covered hoof struck him right in the eye, sending him reeling in pain.

“OW! What the hell!?”

Jonas faced the pony again, pulling his hands away from his stinging eye to see the pegasus crouched low before him, facing away, just like Applejack with the trees...

“What ar-”

It’s hooves came up between his legs, and for a moment Jonas saw white. His legs gave out under him and he collapsed in pain. He wasn’t sure if he was moaning and screeching in pain, but at the moment he didn’t care. He’d just been kicked in the balls by a flying horse. He was well past the point of dignity.

“Surrender, Human. Come along quietly and I will not harm you further.”

Surrender. Harm. Quietly?

Jonas stood on unsteady legs. He was getting tired of this. He was getting tired of being tired. Of being in a world that made no sense. Of being in this nightmare. He just wanted to wake up. He felt that fire filling his belly again. The pain melted away, leaving his legs strong and steady.

He cracked his neck twice. His face slowly spreading into a smile. A sick, twisted smile. The pegasus watched him carefully, standing in perfect alertness, wings spread wide to intimidate and prepare. Meaningless. Weak.

Jonas moved first, hands outstretched for the pest. It rolled away before springing into the air and taking flight. It looped around and around, waiting for the opening that Jonas was not offering. After a tense and wordless minute, the pegasus dove at an incredible speed. It slammed hard into the ground, back turned to Jonas with hind legs raised and ready for bucking.

Jonas was having none of that. His hand grabbed one of the hooves. Unstoppable fingers wrapping around the red fur and golden boot. They tightened, and he could hear the metal giving way. Jonas’ feet planted firmly in the ground, his smile incredibly wide and vicious. He spun. The pony gave a startled cry as it was lifted up. Twice Jonas spun in a full circle before releasing the pony, sending it skidding along the ground. Three times it bounced against the ground, before coming to a rest. Jonas stared, breathing heavily not with exertion but excitement. He wanted it to get up. He wanted to do that again. He wanted to fight. He wanted to win and to break the world. He wanted to grab that pony and rip and tear and fight and kill. But he wouldn’t.

The pony didn’t move. Jonas didn’t know if it was dead or not. He didn’t rightly care. He had to go. He had to find somewhere the ponies wouldn’t find him. Somewhere rocky, or marshy enough they wouldn’t follow him.

He looked at the pony one more time before turning and jogging into the forest.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It had been three hours since the red guard pony had rescued Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Since then, several events had taken place. First and foremost was the arrival of Princess Celestia, nearly sending Twilight into another fit of anxiety. Of somewhat less importance was the return of the red guard pony who had been the one to kick down her doors, looking decidedly the worse for wear. Twilight had seen Celestia looking disappointed before, when she’d learned her student had misused her Want-it Need-it spell. The Princess had had the same severity in her eyes as she did now.

Twilight couldn’t actually hear the conversation of course. She was inside with her friends, fussing over Rainbow Dash’s leg. They’d been going in circles ever since everypony had arrived. Was Jon evil now? Had he been the entire time? Was this normal for humans? Had he been genuinely trying to hurt Rainbow? They kept asking and answering with hypotheses and ideas but no proof. They needed more data. More information. Not that she would be going and getting it, of course. Fluttershy had barely left her curled up position since she’d arrived. No, Twilight was needed here with her friends. That was what mattered now. Plenty of time to unravel the mystery of the humans outburst later.

It frustrated her that Jon had done this. She’d thought he was nice, especially compared to Princess Celestia’s description of humans on the first day. Jon hadn’t been anything like the Princess had made his kind out to be. He’d been passive and a good worker on the farm. He’d answered questions and told stories to the foals.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It had been six hours. Six hours of hiking since the incident. It had been four hours of hiking through marsh, under the cover of the trees before he reached the stony plateau. Twice his bare feet had gotten stuck in the mud, sending flashes of panic racing through his body. Both times he’d successfully gotten out and promised himself he’d stay to more solid ground. The beating of wings above had sent him huddling to the trees, hoping neither the rusty red of dried blood nor the dirty white of his shirt wouldn’t stand out amongst his surroundings.

Now, sitting in a cave a short ways above the canopy of the forest, he could see the pegasi swooping above the forest, scanning and re-scanning as best they could through the canopy. He huddled himself a little closer to the wall of the cave. He’d stripped down to his boxers, leaving the brightly colored and blood-stained reminders of his home lain out on the cold floor deeper into the cave. The last rays of twilight were shining over the horizon. When he wasn’t worrying about the roaming searchers he was admiring the colors as they filled the sky. The last trumpet call of a force benevolent and larger than him. A force that now was hunting him down for hurting one of its own. Great. Just great.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing them up and down. The sun wasn’t down yet, and he wasn’t willing to risk his clothes contrasting against the dull gray of the rocks around him. The thought of a nice fire crossed his mind, before he mentally shouted the idea down, citing a lack of fire-starting tools, dry branches, or even a knife. He’d been in boy scouts for long enough to know that on the list of ten essentials, the knife was #1.

Speaking of, what were the other nine? Maybe he had those. Map and compass were definitely on there... and he definitely didn’t have either. Socks? Were socks on there? He felt like it was either socks or boots, and he didn’t have those either. Maybe instead of listing what he didn’t have, he should list what he did.

He had a pair of blue and white-striped boxers, a pair of blue jeans that were lightly splattered with blood and his T-shirt which was heavily splattered with blood. He also had a cutting wit. Yes. Everything except for the wit part was true. Meaning he was completely on his own. No tools, no food, no water.

He watched the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountains in the distance before turning and walking deeper into the cave. Somewhere further in a drop of water dripped into a pool, echoing all the way to his little flat sleeping area. He curled up, draping the dry but filthy shirt and pants over him. He closed his eyes, trying not to shiver. It was going to be a rough night.

He fell asleep.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Far above, standing atop the cloud they had been waiting upon for the last four hours, two alicorns watched the mouth of the cave. Fifteen royal guards flanked them, golden armor gleaming as the last rays of day glanced from the polished metal.

A moment passed between the two princesses of the world as they met eachothers eyes. There was only one option that would not set their human guest into a frenzy if the madness of hatred had consumed him. It was a less than pleasant option.

The sun slipped down below the horizon, and the dark princess of the night stepped off the soft cloud, falling noiselessly through the sky. Wings angling her descent until she slipped into the cave, gracefully melding with the shadows and racing ever deeper into the cavern. The shadows whispered their secrets to her, guiding her and tugging her mercurial form until she found him, curled and shivering upon the stone floor. Her body emerged from the shadows upon the wall, strands of nighttime breaking as she stepped through the magic that binds the world. For a minute she stood over him, feeling the warping influence of his madness as it gnawed at his soul.

With a sigh, she began the magic. An old and forgotten magic that had once been wielded by the night-zebras of old in the aid of healing. Unlike they, the princess of the moon required no chants, no incantation. Simply a minute of concentration upon her mind and the mind of her human friend below her.

As the seconds passed her form glowed brighter and brighter with an ethereal energy, before her hoof reached out, tentatively pressing against the sleeping humans temple. As the magic grazed his skin, red sparks flew noiselessly against the wall, melting holes into the rock as an acrid smoke hissed into existence. Luna pressed on, her hoof pressing harder and harder until the resistance broke, and her body warped into a stream of silvery moonlight once again, pouring into the temple of Jonas.

The cavern was silent save for the tired snores of the sleeping human.

Dreams

Dreams never really die. We take them to the grave.

Blocks of stone floated through the air with an unearthly grace, two hundred tons of hewn rock gliding steadily into place, wrapped in the golden glow of a divine magic. As they spun, the Princess of the Sun stood below, measuring and calculating with her eyes as she placed the building blocks of the greatest weapon known to pony-kind. Carved into each stone were ancient glyphs of power and war, carved to the core of each massive piece. Her sister sat to the side, her horn glowing with power as she helped to carve the runes with the utmost of care. They had been toiling away for the last two days, ever since they had finalized the design of their greatest failsafe. The need for some kind of secret weapon had been made all too apparent in the battle against the Beast, as the divine princesses were pitted against a foe that pushed them to the brink of death.

No. The next time they faced The Beast, they would be more than prepared. If he ever broke free, he would undoubtedly come for revenge. They would be ready.

Days passed as the blocks and slate and cobblestone slid into place. Forming towers and roads and ramparts, each marked with the runes of power, each placed perfectly within the overall design. The magic coursing through the intricate patterns deep below the surface of the blocks, creating currents of magical energy that flowed into deep pools within the absorption glyphs. This power could at any moment be activated, swirling forth into a veritable storm of magical lightning and death.

It would be the perfect trap, should The Beast ever return. A conduit to magnify their combined powers a hundredfold, the ultimate weapon ever created by ponykind or their gods. A castle high atop the mountain, designed to absorb and convert magical energy. Such a symbol was a powerful tool, for it would serve a far more prosperous purpose. It would be the seat of their government. A new home, for them to rule from, distancing themselves from their beloved ponies that no human would harm innocents in the pursuit of vengeance.

With pride, they named the new capitol of Ponykind.

Canterlot.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
He woke up in a bed, the sun shining from an open window as the summer air made the room too hot and stifling to justify the downy sheets. Downy sheets...

He leapt from the bed, legs getting tangled in the treacherous sheets that a moment ago had filled him with joy. His face met the ground and it hurt. It hurt. It was the most wonderful pain he’d felt in so long. He didn’t even complain about it as he rushed out the bedroom door, his shoes squeaking against the hardwood floor as he ran to the kitchen.

There she was, standing at the counter, reading the paper and eating cereal just like every other morning. The sun caught in her golden hair and made her glow like the angel he knew she was. Jonas wasted no time in running to her and grabbing her around the belly, picking her up and laughing and hugging her. She laughed with him and soon they were lying on the couch, watching the news about some economic crap he didn’t care about. She mumbled something in response. It didn’t matter. It mattered that she was here. That he was holding her. That he was home and not in some dingy cave living out a horrible dream about ponies. He was going to tell her, but he didn’t want to be weird. It was just a dream after all.

They lay in eachothers arms for what felt like the entire day. He saw without seeing the stars in the ceiling. They’d always been there. They were just lights. There was something wrong. But there shouldn’t be. Everything should be fine. He’d woken up. He was free. But...

“I’m sorry, Jonas Bailey.”

He leapt from the couch, Caroline behind him. There, in his living room... The dark Princess Pony. Her mane was the night sky, swirling around and above her, stretching into the ceiling to merge with the fabric of the world. She was not as large as the Celestia Princess, Her head only coming up to his chest. He snarled at her, spreading his arms and his stance, blocking Caroline from view. This was his house. He was safe here. He was home. He was home and she’d come after him!

“No. Not yet you aren’t.”

He let it go. All the rage and anger he’d felt growing in that world of ponies. He just let it free of its bonds. Screaming in rage as fire erupted from his hands, the world around him falling away like the shattered remains of a window. Dull reflections of a life he could feel slipping away from him.

The Princess didn’t blink, the fire never touched her. It swirled and flowed around her and into her mane, sliding along the stars like yellow and red veins, feeding into the faint stars within and making them burn ever brighter.

He was screaming still. The air in his lungs unending as he felt black fire creeping along his skin, he raised a hand to grab at her, but the fire was holding him, twisting him, it was crawling up his chest, wrapping itself around his neck, choking him, suffocating him. The last thing he saw was the Princess. Those sad eyes watching him as the fire ate him alive.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
She spiralled and fell even further, half-remembered fragments of dreams slamming into her as if they could harm her blessed form, and through the unreal power of the subconscious they took effect, jagged edges of regrets and memories and sensations ripping at her equine form as she righted herself, asserting her will upon the maelstrom that tore at her. With a surge of godly power, she ripped a path open through the madness, cutting through the clout of foreign memories and minds... minds?

Luna slammed into the ground, mud splattering from the impact as she began to breath through a mouth that was not hers. Dark purple fingers dug into the ground as she crawled forwards, her mind catching up with its place here in the madness of an alien being’s soul. She was on her knees, and then she stood upon the grass, toes gripping the grass that was not real. Eyes that shone like diamonds now sat in her short, round head. Hair that shimmered and danced as the night sky hung down, curling around the stubs that had been her black wings. Her view left her body, scanning herself up and down as her mind spiralled about, seeing all at once in clear violation of physical limitations.

It was... a playground. There was rain in the air, and a small boy on the ground in front of her, one side of his face red and swollen, puffing out as he gritted his teeth, trying not to cry.

Above him was a ring of faces, indiscernible and formless save one, a large boy standing over the small, face twisted into a sneer as he taunted the small one.

“Gonna cry stupid!? Gonna cry!?”

Luna watched the exchange passively. It was clearly a memory, there was nothing to do but learn here. The question was, which child was Jonas? The shifting faces of the crowd and the detail of the two children indicated one to be him... but was he the aggressor? Or the victim?

The world began spinning, the boy on the ground launched himself upwards, small hands clenched tightly into fists, and as the blow landed the children disappeared into a vortex of color and sound, the grass and dirt and rain flowing into one another towards a pure white point of no return. Luna simply sighed and let herself flow through the currents of Jonas’ mind.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was a classroom. A crowd of older humans sitting behind desks in front of a whiteboard, mathematical knowledge scrawled across which in a fashion no being, human or equine, could understand. A young male human, clearly Jonas by his hair, sat glaring at his notes in front of him.

A minute passes, Cyan eyes watching the young man growl and glare at the parchment before him. Occasionally his hand would move, and for a moment hover as if to make some triumphant mark. Inevitably it fell back onto the wooden desk, increasingly exasperated sighs escaping his lips each time.

“Need some help?”

It was an angel. The world brightened and the air around her seemed to glow. Every part of her smile was perf- no. No, that was how she seemed to him. It was important to remember, this deep in his mind, that everything here was only what it seemed to be to Jonas.

Keeping that in mind did little to convince the peeping deity that the girl standing above the student was anything less than gorgeous. Golden hair swaying like a curtain. She never had bothered cutting it...

Luna felt the pull of colors as the room slipped sideways, pulling through the doors like water down a drain. The boy and the golden girl swirled together, fighting the ethereal tugging as best a fragment of memory could, before finally relenting and flowing towards the door into-
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The home is silent. The wallpaper fading with age but not care. A woman sits in a chair, staring at a book with eyes that were watching something a hundred miles away. Jonas says something, but the words simply join the static in the air. Luna followed the memory, floating through the heavy air. The home feels like the life is slowly pouring out, and the goddess spies a ghost of a memory, standing in front of the master bedroom. The young man turns into his own room, backpack carelessly slung aside as he reaches his room.

The boy moves forwards, rough hands placing a framed picture of him and a golden haired girl on the dresser. He stares at it just long enough for the floating, observing Luna to notice the way his eyes smile. He is smiling softly at the photograph as the world spills away beneath him, falling and twisting into angled circles of color, melting into one another as they move from the room-
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
He’s on the floor outside, his foot wide open and with a gash in it. The red liquid was staining the gauze a bright crimson that would scare the small child were it not for his father, kneeling and studying the injury intently. His mother is behind the patriarch, auburn hair shimmering like a pastel cloud as the dreamlike figure moves, her features are blurred, like a painting that’s begun melting. Her blurred form picks up the shattered ceramic plate, stained with the same crimson that now seeps from the gauze. Brocolli and fettucini stain the floor, the forgotten remnants of a meal now over. His father smiles at him, reassuring words coming from his mouth, but they’re overwhelmed by the rush of reality slipping away once again, the world slipping through the open orifice and into his throat where-
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The hospital room is white. A painful white, like exposed bone in the desert. He’s called to his fathers side, the man once full of fire now lying almost comatose, gauze and sweat and death clogging the boys sense of smell. The knots of anxiety and pain and duress swirl around him. This figure. This man. This father. He watches the life flow from him as his eyes blur, the world becoming a haze of emotion and unwanted events. His mind can’t process it and for a moment neither can the observing goddess. This memory is full of pain, but she endures. She endures long enough to hear the words.

“Leave it better than you found it.”

The words echo, scrawling themselves across the walls in a color that doesn’t exist. Gravity failed. His throat was clenching shut and the world was failing. Falling. Fallen. Like a hero.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The princess rose, hooves unsteadily finding their place atop the golden fire beneath her. Above her, undulating above the soul was the poisonous silken threads of the Siphon. The black threads reached down, wrapping lightly around the golden core and taking root, spreading the sickly darkness throughout the pulsing core.

She had arrived.

Her horn sparked with the magic made of dreams as she prepared her spell, judging with eyes that were above and below as she willed them. She could see the corruption from every angle, feel how it warped Jonas’ perceptions, how it twisted his thoughts and emotions. It was too much. It was too malevolent. So she would distance it from Jonas’ mind.

It felt like days. Standing there as the magic gathered around her like a looming thunderhead. Power coalescing around her as arcs of a royal purple, lancing out, dancing across the surface of the soul. The threads of malevolence felt the power gathering, sending hair-thin strands of emotion towards her, cutting her flesh time and time again, severing her legs and wings and cutting her head from her body.

But a moment after those wounds came, she would be restored to her original composure. She was a god, and beyond such minor injuries. Here, in the realm of the metaphysical emotions and dreams, here she was beyond any and all threats. It felt good. It felt right. It was a power she dared not abuse, not since the time in a previous era, when the dreams had turned to nightmares.

The spell burst from her horn like a river escaping the floodgates, ripples of power folding over one another as it rushed to the corrupted pieces of the golden core, the purple power rinsing the sick darkness, casting it away. Purple magic rose from the core, shimmering like a mirror as it solidified into an orb of protective power. The threads of darkness reached out, drawn to the human soul like water pulled by gravity. Luna watched with grim satisfaction as the threads bounced against her magic as they probed for weaknesses. Finding none, the darkness saw fit to wrap itself around the shield, looping over and over until the hair-thin thread had completely surrounded the shield. But it would hold. It had the full might of the Princess of the Night.

Her head bowed, her body melting once more into quicksilver as it faded into nothingness.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Splat.

His eyes flickered, taking in the stone he slept on, noting the moss. What little light slipped through the darkness of the cave reflected from the freshly wet algae. He took a deep breath, the only sound in the silence of the cave. His head was pounding, but he felt good. Better than he had in awhile. For a moment, he entertained the thought that he was no longer in Equestria, that he was just a minute’s hike from home.

But those were the groggy half-formed thoughts of a Jonas waking up. He waved them aside as he peeled his face from the floor, dust and grime coming with him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trading it for the dirt on his knuckles. He looked down at himself in the darkness of the cave, his shirt was still stained with blood, the crimson contrasting strongly against the filthy white it had originally been. His jeans were a little less splattered, though not by much. He felt gross, his neck itched from the scruff that was quickly reaching the disgustingly awkward phase of the path to a beard. He scratched it as he looked around the room, standing naked save for his blue and white striped boxers.

He stumbled over to the pool of water, eyeing the mucky water distastefully before cupping it in his hands and splashing his face, doing his best to rinse the grime and dirt from his face and eyes. The water was cold, helping to jolt him further into wakefulness. He considered using the water to wash his shirt and pants, but without soap that would only result in wet clothes.

Half an hour later he was dressed and sitting on the lip of the cave, staring out into the distance. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue that made the whole world seem just that small bit more joyful. Yet here he was, on the run from a the peaceful talking ponies that he’d attacked and hurt. He didn’t even know why! Sure, the manticore thing had attacked him, but he’d been fine! He should’ve stayed, put up with that flutter...shy? Fluttershy’s accusations. He should’ve apologised. Losing his cool hadn’t helped anyone, least of all himself.

“Ugh. Freaking talking ponies and freaking monsters and freaking... PONIES!”

He leapt to his feet, looking down at the town in the distance. A strange thought had occurred to him. A thought that he did not relish in the least.

He should apologize.

Jonas was a laid back person. He liked to think of himself as friendly, understanding, smart, attractive, and generally all around a good guy. But he knew he was no good at apologies. Not meaningful ones. He’d always been better at the unspoken understanding between friends. However, apologizing for trying to break an acquaintance’s leg and then attacking the police... pony? Who tried to stop him from hurt more ponies... that might have been crossing the line. It sucked, but he’d made a serious mistake.

He eyed the twenty foot drop from the lip of the cave. It hadn’t been that hard to climb, plenty of easy handholds. He jumped without thinking, and for a long second he was cursing himself for breaking his legs this far from proper pony aid.

So when the stone shattered beneath his feet as he landed upright, he let out a laugh. Nothing like the diseased laugh of yesterday, this was a hearty laugh. Like a kid unwrapping a christmas present, but instead of wrapping paper flying it was shards of stone. He leapt from the rock, leaving footprint indentations behind. He landed on the dirt, and felt his leg sink two feet into the dirt like it was a pile of leaves.

It wasn’t hard digging himself out. hard packed dirt came away like dead leaves under his powerful hands, until he’d made enough room for his knees to move. They burst from the earth with a joyful tug, and he was free. With his lesson learned he began the long hike back to Ponyville. He’d find Fluttershy and apologize to her for scaring her. Then he’d find Rainbow Dash and apologize to her as well. Maybe he’d even apologize to that guard, if he saw him. He’d just... turn himself in to the guard and get thrown in jail. Yeah. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t apologize to the guard. It’d be one of those unspoken understandings. That sounded better than prison.

He started walking back towards the town, easily following his trail from yesterday. This time he paid attention to the ground, easily avoiding the muddy traps that were so painfully obvious now. This begged the question, what the hell was up with him the day before? He’d just been so... angry. He’d been angrier than he remembered being in a very long time.

Maybe it was the Siphon? The Princesses had explained that when he’d first arrived, and it was further elaborated by Twilight Sparkle, how he was the new garbage dump for Equestria’s negative emotions. Apparently just by being in this “universe” he was soaking up the negative emotions around here like a sponge. The mechanics of it didn’t make sense, but neither did magical talking ponies, so it probably just came with the territory.

So was he being influenced with magic right now? He felt much more in control of himself now, but was that just an effect of the magic? Had he let off steam or something by having his little meltdown? So many questions, and the only people with answers were probably less than happy with him. Ugh.

Just think of it as apologizing for what you did while you were drunk

Yeah, that could work. It made things easier to think that he’d just been under the influence of alcohol as opposed to the influence of a thousands of years old spell that had trapped his predecessor in an endless cycle of torment and isolation.

Hm. Something odd had just happened, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The hours passed easily as he walked, the forest seemed unnaturally quiet around him. He figured it was because they could smell the manticore blood on him, or something. Maybe he just stank. His neck was getting itchier and itchier as time passed. He tried to scratch it, but that just made it itch worse. So he walked in solemn silence, trying to ignore the disgusting half-grown neckbeard. He’d have to find something to help him shave. The scissors and clippers from the pony barbers hadn’t been able to help him. He needed something sharp from back home, and seeing as the only things that came with him were the clothes on his back.

Maybe Twilight Sparkle would have something? Then again, maybe it’d be rude to come back after attacking her friends and ask for a razor. Scratch the maybe. He was pretty sure that was considered rude.

Eventually the forest thinned and the town came into view, the leaves of the library a green blob on the horizon from here. By habit, he’d wandered to the edge of the Apple Family’s farm. He could see Applejack and Big Mac working the groves of trees. He was content to watch them work from this distance. At least until Applejack’s head turned, pointing almost directly at him. He bolted after that, remembering why he was coming into town. He’d go to Fluttershy first, and apologize to her. Then he’d find Rainbow, apologize to her, and then he’d get the hell out of dodge.

It was all well and good to man up to his mistakes, but he felt his time in Ponyville had run its course. Not that he didn’t like it here. It was quiet and weird but very understanding. The ponies in town had acclimated quite quickly to the human amongst them. He hadn’t dealt so well with the whole “Talking ponies” thing, and that was on him. Maybe he’d send them a fruits basket. They’d be ok with the otherworldly fugitive sending fruits baskets, right? It sounded like a nice thing to do.

The walk to Fluttershy’s cottage was relatively uneventful. He’d seen the town map enough to know the general direction of where to go. Also the fact that here the birds were more than happy to chirp and sing, at least until he came into view.

It was a nice little cottage, right at the edge of the forest, next to a babbling brook and covered in birdhouses. It looked almost like it had a massive shrubbery growing through the top. The surroundings had become deathly quiet as he approached. The bridge groaned under his feet, and for a moment he worried it would break beneath his weight, but the stone held. It was simply complaining at him. He walked to the small door, feeling the weight of the unnatural silence on his back. His hand reached out to the small doorknob, and crumpled it like paper as he turned it.

He pushed the door open slowly, leaning his head in sheepishly.

“Hello? Fluttershy? I’m sorry about your doorknob... I just wanted to come and apologize...”

The house was deathly silent. He took a few hesitant steps inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He poked around, trying not to touch anything that looked fragile. Everything here looked fragile. There were plenty of signs of animals, from little scuff marks in the floor from dog paws and other assorted claw-like appendages, to the smell of almost concentrated nature. Too many animals in one place. There was one stench stronger than the rest, it smelled of copper and the pungency of urine. It led him down a wooden hallway in the back. He walked past door after door, he wasn’t interesting in ransacking or exploring her house. He just wanted to find the pony, apologize to the pony, and get out. That’s all.

This door was different. It was heavier than the others, and the stench was particularly powerful behind it. Jonas reached his hand out, pushing it open. No doorknob, a swinging door.

There it was. It seemed smaller than he remembered it in those moments of terror, but it was still larger than he. The manticore was on its side, breathing through a muzzle strapped around its mouth. The monsters eye swivelled over to him, and widened with realization. It lumbered onto its paws, extending its wings from wall to wall as it faced him. Bruised stinger raised above the beast’s head, ready to strike.

Jonas held his arms out, palms open in a gesture of peace. It didn’t escape either of them that these were the same palms that had crushed half the manticores mouth in. They stood facing each other like this, the air heavy with tension. The manticore half-growled at the human before its threat died in its throat. Nobody wanted them to fight again. The human because it had caused him enough social problems, and the lionesque monster because last time they’d clashed it had lost half its teeth.

“So... Uh, I came here to apologize to Fluttershy, but I guess I owe you a bit of one too, huh, uh, Manfred?”

Manfred the Manticore eyed him suspiciously, beady eyes glaring at him from furrowed brows. It seemed to understand Jonas’ words, but wasn’t able to talk like the ponies were. Or maybe the muzzle wasn’t letting it talk. Probably the muzzle, when he thought about it.

“Look, I uh, I was just scared because you were jumping at me with your teeth. I mean, I’m still not happy about that, you really scared me. And stuff. So... Truce?”

He held his hand out, fully expecting a handshake for half a second until he realized how stupid that was. But he’d committed to the handshake, whether or not he was left hanging was up to the manticore in the room.

It stared at his hand in obvious fear, flinching when he raised it before settling on wondering animosity. They stood like that for several long, awkward seconds. Several more long seconds passed as Jonas stared expectantly at Manfred, biting his lip.

The manticore was having none of it. It was just standing there, tensed and ready to run, despite the apparent lack of anywhere in particular to run to. Jonas let his hand drop.

“Yeah. Ok. Sure. Well, have a good life then. Sorry ‘bout the teeth.”

He backed away from the beast, pushing the swing door open with his back. The manticore didn’t move, wings still spread wide. After a last second of eye contact, Jonas turned and left to find the local weathermare.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As it turns out, wandering around Ponyville (stealthily) wasn’t much of a plan for finding the rainbow pegasus. This simple fact is the cause of Jonas Bailey, human extraordinaire, wandering around the outskirts of the town, trying to spot a speck of cyan against the backdrop of a blue sky. Yeah. Best plan yet. It had barely beaten out trying to shake hands with a manticore to make peace.

Today wasn’t shaping out so good.

He was laying on his back in the middle of a field. Watching the clouds in hopes that maybe, just maybe, Rainbow Dash would appear out of nowhere. Then he’d apologize to her, which she would graciously accept, and then he’d get the hell out of Ponyville. He had less than an idea of where he’d go, but he’d cross that burn when it bridged him. Wait.

Speaking of bridges, where were all the guards? Yesterday he’d attacked two ponies, maybe three, and he’d seen teams of pegasi hunting for him for the rest of the day. Yet here he was, six hours closer to Ponyville than he was yesterday, making little attempt at really sneaking about. Hell, he’d seen a trio of fillies a couple fields back, and it’s not like he was some stealthy commando. He was still wearing a blood-spattered t-shirt for goodness sake.

Jonas stood, grass tickling his bare feet as he looked around the field more warily now. He got the sudden and sickening sensation that he was being watched. He spun around, trying to catch some unknown stalker before they could hide themselves. All this accomplished was him becoming more panicked and dizzy. At least until a thought occured.

“What’re they going to do?”

Logically speaking, he’d shattered stone, and was a walking cause of collateral damage. Really, what were they going to do to him? If it came to violence, they’d just break their hooves on him. So, he should calm down. No need flying off the handle at some ponies that can’t even hurt him.

With this newfound sense of invincibility, Jonas set to walking. He was getting bored of sitting in a field waiting for things to happen, so he might as well bite the bullet and just walk into town. He’d find Rainbow Dash faster that way. He wasn’t sure how the apology would go over, but he hoped it would be better than the apology to the mantic- Manfred the Manticore. Oh. Crap. He still had to apologize to Fluttershy. Maybe... He’d find Rainbow Dash, and ask her to find Fluttershy for him, or maybe she could just carry the apology along? He’d figure it out once he found the cyan pegasus.

He knew of a better way to find the ponies he was looking for.

This train of thought led to the tall, iron-wrought human walking through the town square, arms spread wide with a challenging smile on his face. He made deliberate eye contact with each pony he saw. He heard the dueling banjos playing in the back of his mind as he sauntered past the crowds of ponies. When he reached the fountain, he turned to face his onlookers. His antics had definitely drawn a crowd. Theatrically, he threw his hands out towards the ponies, eliciting a satisfying round of gasps.

“Ponies and... Pony... men. Uh. I’m looking for the ones you know as Rainbow Dash! And Fluttershy!”

The gathered ponies gasped in an appropriately dramatic fashion, recoiling from him in fear. Then came the long, awkward silence, due to none of them being Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy, and nopony wanted to talk to the unhinged extradimensional supermonster. So, he held his pose while the gathered ponies watched and waited. After half a minute of pure silence, the low mutterings of the crowd began. Jonas held his arms where they were despite the slow burn that was setting in his muscles. He didn’t really know what to do with them. Maybe he should have brought a walking stick or something to fill his hands? This had seemed cleverer and funnier in his head. Also smarter. He didn’t feel really stupid until the grey-haired mayor (mare) timidly asked him if he’d asked Fluttershy’s friends. He felt quite stupid after that bit. Really, exceptionally, quite stupid. Of course he should have checked with the other bunch! Heck, he could have stopped by Applejacks on the way in. She liked him, right? Why hadn’t he done that? That made roughly a hundred times more sense than this plan.

However, the inherent genius of the idea became clear when the cyan pegasus swooped in from above, slamming into the street with a bit more enthusiasm than was perhaps necessary. Her violet eyes bore into him with... fear? Determination? They looked more upset than normal. And it wasn’t the same upset as yesterday. Then it was simple beration, now it looked like a threat. Somehow, that felt comforting. In all the time he’d been in this weird world, nothing had seemed genuinely malicious. Except Manfred. Manfred had definitely seemed malicious. But none of the ponies had seemed rude, let alone violent. They were the farthest from malevolent a culture could get! To see one of them show something so... so human felt comforting.

Jonas snapped out of his thoughts to find all the ponies were still staring at him, but now from a much more respectable distance. There was fear in their eyes. He hadn’t been paying attention earlier, but now it was clear. He scared them. He stood almost twice as tall as them, they were like children to him, and he waltzed in here thinking he was being clever when he must be terrifying to them.

Well. Goddamnit. This wasn’t going anywhere near how he’d thought it would. He was here to apologize. Just apologize, get it over, go. New plan. Pretty much the old plan, except less confident sounding and much more awkward.

He felt these thoughts swimming around his head, and the voice of Rainbow Dash coming to him as if from the other end of a long tunnel... His hand came to his temple, his eyes clenched tightly as he grit his teeth. He shook his head once, twice, before opening his eyes again. The cyan pegasus was still there, a fearfulscaredlonely distance away from him. He didn’t mean to scare her. What was he doing here? He was scaring them. He was scaring all of these poor ponies. They didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. His head was buzzing, like hundreds of flies were hanging near his ears, crawling inside of them.

He didn’t deserve this.

That one thought just brought emotions gushing to the fore, his eyes tearing as he stared at her rainbow mane. It didn’t make sense, but there it was. Rainbow hair. There was a fire in his mind, bouncing and rattling against a beautiful purple wall. What? That thought didn’t make sense. Why did he think of that? Why did he see it so clearly?

Focus. Plan. Stupid plan. Simple stupid plan.

He could feel the buzzing move to the the back of his head, but dismissed it. He needed to focus. Focus on the stupidly simple plan. Focus.

“Look, Rainbow... I uh, I wanted to apologize. About yesterday. With the whole... attacking you, thing.”

She was just standing there, staring at him. How long had he been standing there? How long had this been going on? Did it really take him this long to just stammer out a goddamn apology? Come to think of it, he couldn’t see any of the other ponies that had been there just a second ago... Just Rainbow, and she looked much less apprehensive. Why was that? The apology! Yeah. He’d apologized. So, now he should go, right? Yes. That was probably step 2. He felt like he was in a fog, and could hear clocks ticking behind him and all around. The fuzz at the back of his skull was getting unbearable.

“So... I’ll just, uh, be going. And stuff. Yeah. Uh... bye.”

He turned to leave, only to find himself face to face with the big white pegasus-unicorn from his first night in Ponyville. Princess Celestia. Her coat glowed white, and behind her he could see Twilight, Applejack, There was Fluttershy, at the back of the group, hiding behind Rarity. Jonas blinked hard, twice, they were definitely there. Celestia was saying something, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. The he could barely think over the fuzz reverberating through his head. His head jolted side to side as shivers shot through his neck, like a live current. The princess kept talking, but he was moving already. Moving for the small butterscotch pony. Rarity’s eyes widened as the human moved closer, but she didn’t move. Jonas was on his knees, it was hard to stand. But he needed to. He needed to tell her.

“Fluttershy... I just... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t mean to scare ponies. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to...”

He was on his back, staring up at the sky. He blinked once, slowly, and as if by magic the buzzing was gone. The dark princess pony was standing over him when he opened his eyes once more. He felt as if he was falling further into the ground, everything above him felt so far away, as if at the bottom of a well. A well stuffed with blankets and pillows. Pillow fiiiight. Focus. Focus.

Celestia was standing there, next to Luna. They were talking, and he could hear the words, but they were meaningless. He was so tired. He felt his eyes close once more, before he forced them to open. Something was weird here. Something was wrong with how tired he was. A flicker of flame licked his mind, and he was pushing himself with his elbows, staring at the master of the sun.

She looked down at him with a sad sort of kindness, leaning down to whisper to him in an almost motherly fashion.

“Jonas, we’re taking you with us to Canterlot. We’re going to make this all better.”

There was more, but the simple softness of her tone was enough to lure him back to the comfort of the ground. He closed his eyes once more, and this time they stayed closed.

Learning

You can’t stop a storm. All you can do is wait and hope.

The sun and the moon were hidden by the clouds in the sky. The weather crew had been in the courtroom when the chaos started. That was all Commander Hurricane could think, as her warhorses gathered around her. By the hourglass’ count, it had only been two hours since the battle had begun. When Marshal Roderick had collapsed to the floor, screaming in rage, and transformed into... that Beast.

When the fight had just begun, she’d watched Captain Ironjaw valiantly crash into the Beast, his long spear shattering against its impenetrable hide before it smashed his head into the ground, over and over. Commander Hurricane would have been next were it not for Princess Luna’s skill in barrier magicks. The past hour had been spent rallying the Skyguard and getting the servants and untrained out of the palace, as the Princesses selflessly battled a creature that was beyond all reason. Hurricane paced back and forth in front of her troops. The Bolts stood at attention, spears primed and sharpened to break upon the beasts hide.

The princesses had been battling the monster for two hours. Two hours of pure combat. There was no break, there was no pause. The moment the Beast was knocked down was the moment it stood once more, ready and eager and burning with hatred. The princesses needed a break, and soon. Even now, the sisters were locked in a tumultuous aerial battle against the monster, trying to reduce its offensive capabilities by taking a flightless foe into the last domain it belonged. But the princesses were tiring, their wings flapping slower, their bodies healing slower and slower. Celestia’s pure white coat was stained with the splattered blood of the last five blows the Beast had imparted upon her.

There he was. Commander Avalanche, leader of the steel-hooves. One of the many smaller earth tribes. Hurricane had known him when they were young, before the princesses had rallied the tribes behind this new ideal. This new nation of hope and unity. They’d been rivals as children, bitter foes on opposing sides of a feud that had existed for years beyond count. But his eager grin at her told her of their new, old story.

The plan had been hatched in desperation a mere ten minutes ago.

She was first, to take the Beast out of the situation, if just for a few minutes. It was entirely a Hurricane plan: stupid, reckless, and most likely to work. Then the dirt ponies would hold the Beast while the magick corps did their work to heal the princesses and find some weakness in the Beast’s hide. Then, the Beast would face not only the princesses, but the full might of the unified tribes. The might of a nation forged in blood and trust. Equestria.

But first, Hurricane was going to take this whelp of a diamond dog into her domain. The princesses were powerful flyers. They were magnificent, and hardy, and gifted... But they were not the sky. They had not earned the name Hurricane. They couldn’t hear the sky sing at them like she did. They could not sing to the sky like her Bolts could.

She smiled at the honor guard of the Bolts. Fatalistic grins met her violet eyes. Her troops were well trained. Taught from birth the arts of flying, one Bolt was worth a hundred commoners. Commander Hurricane, Wonderbolt of the pegasi, gave her last order.

“Fly!”

Eighty wings beat, and the warriors took to the sky. The Bolts struck as one, like the fury of nature from which they took their names. Hurricane lead, her spear shattering against the ebon hide of the Beast as it fell from where the princesses had last thrown it. She didn’t blink, her body twisting in an impossibly tight maneuver, slipping beneath the monsters hand. She was moving so fast... She heard a scream cut short behind her. No time to think. She was banking to the left, her wings knew their task. The Beast continued to fall, swatting at the Bolts as they pushed ever upwards, propelled by the most potent of sky-magicks, keeping the monster aloft by slamming bodily into the abomination, carrying it as fast and as far as they could manage before the flames or the swinging claws ended them for every one that lifted the creature and got away, four did not return. Second after bloody second was bought with the lives of her finest.

The seconds ticked away, becoming a minute in an eternity. A second minute. Hurricane had only eight Bolts left, including herself. Her wings were sore, and singed from moving too close to the Beast. Her spear had broken once, twice.

She was lined up, and this time she struck with her hoof-mounted blade. It did nothing against the monster’s skin. But it was a point of contact that was not her flesh. She heaved with her wings, lifting the beast a meter, two, before she rolled away, feeling rather than hearing the impact of the Bolt behind her. She hissed out a silent scream, ripping the quick-release blade from her hoof with her teeth. It was molten, and her hoof was beyond pain. A second longer, maybe two, and her hoof would have been gone. It was killing them just to attack this beast. Damn. Damn this monster. Damn this price.

Two more of her Bolts screamed as they grabbed the monster, holding it aloft to buy more time for the dirts down below. Their screams of defiance soon turned to screams of pain and fear as they felt the burning of their flesh. The black flame soaked across their skin and burned them before unstoppable fingers worked around their throats, ending their screams and leaving only a deathly silence.

The silence was soon filled by the impact of yet another of Hurricane’s Bolts.

“Commander!”

She looked to her side. Grey Winds, her oldest and most trusted lieutenant. One of his forelimbs was gone, the stump still smoldering. His eyes were wide. He’d already seen it. Of course he saw it. She had asked her Bolts to sacrifice themselves, their lives and hopes and dreams ended that others might remain. He nodded at her. He knew. He understood. She wanted to tell him... something. She was sorry? She wanted him to tell her foal how much she loved her? No. Nothing worth saying was unknown at this point. She had no regrets.

They would write songs of this day. She would be remembered as the Wonderbolt who flew against a Beast. Her filly with her father’s rainbow mane would be so proud. He would tell her the tale. She would not be forgotten, and that was all the peace she needed for what came next.

She dove. leaving what few Bolts remained behind to hold the beast ready, to buy time. Just buy time.

Somepony would find the answer, the solution they had bought with their blood. The dirts and the horns were clever. They’d find something.

Her hooves touched the ground, green grass in a once-beautiful garden. The roses were burning, and deep furrows had been torn from the battle between forces beyond mere ponies. Lightning cracked around her as she gathered the magic of a pegasi, the air going still and heavy as if waiting for her word. She was the scion of clan Hurricane. She was the master of the sky. She was the Wonderbolt of her clan. She was power.

Commander Hurricane rocketed upwards in a blur of blue and red, crossing the hundred feet between her and the black-flamed monster in less than a second. She collided with him, and felt her front hooves shatter into fine pieces. But that didn’t matter. She was moving upwards, and felt the screams of her soldiers fade with distance. Higher, higher, higher, she went, carried by the rage and the love and the trust of her Bolts down below. The princesses were somewhere down below, watching the darkened rising star that had been their warrior. She hoped they were proud. She hoped they would be happy. They had given so much to the pegasi. It was time a pegasus repaid that debt, if just a little.

The world exploded into a corona of power. She was flying fast, faster than she’d ever flown before. Like the whole sky was behind her, screaming its defiance at her side, at her back, at her soul. She was grinning beneath the beast, flying higher and higher and higher, pushing her wings so hard, squeezing every ounce of sky-magic from her bones. All at once, the power propelling her upwards ended. That sudden, miraculous boost withered away as she flew high, higher than she’d ever dared to soar. Maybe, if she could fly just a little bit longer, just a little bit higher, she could push this Beast into the stars. She could be the hero.

The monster was screaming, and its hands wrapped around her hind legs, squeezing so tightly. She felt her flesh and bone give way, but that didn’t matter. A pegasus’ magic was stored in her wings. Legs, her face, her coat, her mane, none of it mattered. The black fire leapt from the Beast’s skin to her muzzle, spreading with unholy speed. Her eyes felt hot. So hot. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t see from her remaining eye due to the mass that she now carried on her mangled limbs and her burning shoulder. But she could feel the cloud around her. She could feel the sky singing with her, one last time. It was beautiful. It was a song of joy and hope and fury and redemption.

Idly, she realized the fire was spreading across her whole head, her mane was burning. Sunset Dasher would be so sad. He’d always loved her mane. She was tired. Her left wing suddenly fell away. The fire had eaten through. Oh.

She’d called the Earth ponies “dirts” again. She’d have to apologize to Avalanche for that later.

A weight came off of her, the Beast moved away from her in the air, their momentum setting them to drift apart above the clouds. The sun was so bright. So beautiful, and at its side hung the moon. Far below, a rainbow ring expanded ever wider and wider. Commander Hurricane realized she was falling. The monster was screaming. It had been screaming all the while. They slipped back through the clouds, moving faster and faster and faster as they dropped. The monster screamed ever louder, black plumes of death slipping past its teeth. But it sounded so scared. It sounded so lonely, so pathetic. They’d been scared of this thing? This sad and confusing creature?

Commander Hurricane laughed as the black fire took her eyesight, and she was laughing when she hit the ground.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jonas Bailey, human extraordinaire, was sitting on the couch. It was soft, with a kind of felt exterior that was pleasant to the touch but prone to tear when a human finger became anything less than gentle. He’d spent the first half hour just mindlessly rubbing that fabric as he’d answered the questions. Again. He wasn’t angry, not right now. Well, yes, he was. But not like the other times, like a week ago when he’d woken up in this magical city. He was always angry, it was only the amount of rage that he felt would change. . The doctor was supposed to be helping him with that. The doctor was not very good at his job, in Jonas’ less than unbiased opinion.

“And how does that make you feel?”

Jonas wasn’t even sure what they’d been talking about. But he knew the answer anyways.

“Angry.”

Dramatic. Very dramatic. If this were a film, they’d cut to another scene. He missed film. Everything here was so... not human. It was close. They had cafes, they had markets, they had food and books and buildings and doors and cups. But they didn’t have internet. They didn’t have movies, technology was rustic and spastic. There was some grand mystery behind that, but frankly he just didn’t care.

“Jonas. We were talking about puppies.”

Damn.

“I know. Damn dirty puppies. I bet they’re behind whatever evil is going on. Like genocide. If you guys have that here.”

Scribble scribble, the pen scratched out another note on the clipboard. Probably something about an irrational dislike towards canines. Heh. Irrational dislike. That note and copies of it probably filled his folder. If the doctor had a folder. Or questions about genocide. Was that something he hadn’t wanted to talk about, a week ago? It felt like it had been so long.

Focus.

The doctor was brown, in coat and mane. There was a difference in shade, of course. Early on, Jonas had tried to memorize them all. Their names (Almost all of them were puns of some impossibly specific and relevant kind), their marks, their colors. But all the little ponies cycled away from him. This was his fifth doctor in the last three weeks. It was all just smoke and fog. He still felt crazy, like he had that day in the mountains. But the madness and the rage and the fire wasn’t inside of him. It followed him instead. It was around the corners in the halls that he walked. It was waiting. Waiting for him to snap.

He knew he was restless. But he was terrified of himself. This... Siphon thing. The fact that the last one took over a thousand years to die. The fact that he was now a monster. He was a strange beast in an impossible land. Somedays, he just wanted to snap. He wanted to break and shatter this city, to break the ponies inside of it. He’d said as much to his first doctor. The next day, he’d had a new doctor. And more armed guards, like they’d make a difference.

There were more awkward questions, about his emotions, about how he felt like he was made of glass and yet the world around him was still too soft. How he didn’t like his bed, how he didn’t like how unstoppably happy all the ponies were. How it sickened him on a level that shouldn’t exist. How he was terrified he was losing his sense of self to this poisonous hatred. Finally the clock struck twelve. Jonas stood, and walked to the door without saying goodbye. Behind him was a deeply upset pony, furiously taking notes for the princesses.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sun was shining brightly, as always. His bare feet didn’t leave indentations in the stone beneath him, thankfully. He’d never asked, but he suspected magic was involved in that. Birds chirped, and only a few ponies fell silent as he stalked past them. He wasn’t wearing his jeans and shirt. No, they’d made robes for him, because the ponies here didn’t know the first thing about tailoring for humans, they’d gone with the nearest equivalent, Minotaurs. Regrettably, minotaurs rarely wear pants. Actually, the only article of clothing they’d been able to reliably duplicate had been a tie. So he wore these puffy cloth pants, and a robe over his top half. He felt official and mysterious. Like a kid playing dress up. Hah. If Caroline could see him now.

Caroline...

There was one activity that really helped him. That cleared his mind of thoughts of fire and war and home. Manual labor. He’d been spending the past week and a half working with the local builders on... was it a house? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been paying attention. It was mindless, it was strenuous, it was perfect. He could just stop thinking, stop focusing on this world’s existence, and lift heavy things.

“Jonas! Back again?”

The foreman... forepony, was waving a forehoof in greeting, a nervous smile plastered across his face. Jonas didn’t smile, though he wanted to. He was particularly tightly wound today, and just wanted to get to work. However, there was a ritual to perform.

The forepony offered him a safety helmet. Jonas glowered at it, before putting the oddly proportioned, completely useless piece of metal on his dome. That done, he dropped his cloak on the ground. He’d learned quickly that ponies didn’t care much about clothing, so he’d stopped caring about such details as well. The forepony said some words. Apparently they needed a stack of lumber on the second floor. Jonas shrugged, loosened his arms, and hoisted the entire stack of wood onto one shoulder with a grunt. They felt heavier than the apples back in Ponyville, but it was really not that bad. Was he getting stronger? Worrying. The tricky part was the stairs. He’d learned quickly not to use the middle of a step back in Ponyville. No, he’d use the edges. It was less likely to snap that way, especially with the extra weight. Somepony behind him was yelling his name, saying something. He’d deal with that when he got to the second floor. Stupid noisy pony. He was helping. Just hush and let him help.

He got halfway up before the stairs creaked warningly. He looked downwards in nervous anticipation, then up at the pony worker waiting for him. Their eyes met, and he noted the pony had a bright blue coat. Then the stairs gave out under him. He fell, and slammed his other foot down on a second stair to catch him. It snapped easier than the first, due to his carelessness. The planks on his shoulder then slammed lengthwise against the steps, and luckily the steps gave way before the lumber. So now there was no staircase, and Jonas was standing there in the dust and shattered pieces of wood feeling embarrassed and... furious. He should’ve known better. What a stupid risk. What had that pony been saying? Why was that hard to know? He shouldn’t be so absent-minded. What if somepony had been under the stairs? Unlikely and a stupid question, but still plausible. He’d have killed somepony. He’d be a killer. A monster.

He was shaking. He was here to not think, and instead he was doing exactly that. The forepony was yelling something awful, complaining about the damage in general, always taking care not to blame Jonas. Jonas apologized honestly, even if he mumbled it just a bit. The foreman was smiling at Jonas. Wide and bright and oh so fake. It made Jonas sick to his stomach. Looking at that smile. Nervous... but not scared. This little stupid pony trusted him. Not to perform the manual labor without breaking everything, but that wasn’t fear in his eyes. This little pony had no idea how close he was. How close to black fir-

Jonas wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. These thoughts weren’t right and he was just stressed. He needed air. The workers just got set back in their schedules by several hours, all because some stressed out, insane, stupid, pathetic, angry human decided to... He needed air. He was outside. He needed more air with less ponies.

“Uh, I’m sorry boss, I gotta... I gotta go.”

Yeah. Great. Run away with your tail between your legs.

He started walking away from his mess. The voices were plentiful now, and a crowd had gathered outside the wooden framework. He made extra sure to duck his head and not damage the frame. He could hear the ponies whispering. Great. Perfect. Lunch and a show. He had a sudden horrid temptation to bow to his audience, right before jumping on them until they stopped moving. The foreman was still smiling. He deserved it. If Jonas were to jump on him, he’d deserve it.

Yes

No.

No, that was wrong. This was wrong. It was the Siphon. That’s what this was. He was just embarrassed. That’s all. He was going to take a walk, and everything would be better. His feet moved, and the foreman’s smile followed. So his feet moved faster. The image of the foreman followed him, smiling and smiling, making Jonas’ blood boil. Had the anger been there in the first place? Or was everything seen through a Siphoned filter?

Didn’t matter. Keep moving.

His feet moved faster. Faster. Faster. Soon he was sprinting all out down the street, his feet leaving indentations in the enchanted stone. Upon seeing this, Jonas turned sharply, running across the verdant green fields. That wasn’t any better, as now he was tearing up great tracks of dirt. Reds and blues of the flowers around him blurred together. He was in the royal gardens, surrounded by the most cultivated of natural beauties.

Doesn’t matter. RUN

His lungs were acid. He couldn’t feel his legs. His breath came in agonizing gasps that were too deep but not deep enough. He was doubled over, and he spat from his throat. His lips were dry.

Jonas glanced around himself, not really taking in his surroundings. His head felt clearer than it had in days, and he laughed. This laugh was different than any in the past week. It was light. It was pure. He was happy, pointlessly, stupidly, happy. He felt...

It’s my toy. April’s just gonna break it!

Connected. That’s how it happened. Like striking a lighter in a dark room. It stung, but not badly. It was a shiver or a shake through his system, something that rippled across his skin and cut through his organs. He felt it. The Siphon... He felt it through his eyes. For the first time since arriving in this messed up land of mishmashed puns and ponies... he felt it. It slipped away almost instantly, of course. But he’d felt it. It was... it was like a second heart, that sat a foot behind him. Like a hundred thousand fragments of voices, stuck in a blender and all whispering poison. Some of them screamed. Some of them were so loud, but it was the whispers. The quiet little resentments that he felt now. The sting of a toy taken. The misunderstood insult. The hurtful rejection. He turned and looked, maybe a magic thing...? No. No, that was the Siphon. He knew it was. He knew it with the same certainty that he knew his left hand was opposite his right.

He tried to reach out, tried to find it once more to know that it wasn’t just insanity settling in. To know that maybe he could start to work on something that wouldn’t shatter before him. To somehow have a hand in the madness that had become his life. But it was like telling a toddler to grab something with their tail. It didn’t make sense and also was impossible because that’s not a thing that humans do. But he knew. He had a tail, metaphorically speaking. He knew he had the tail. Now he just had to come up with a better analogy.

He was smiling, but he didn’t know why. In the far back of his mind, he wondered if this was how insanity felt.

If it was, he didn’t mind.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dinner was always interesting, except for when it was horrendously, mind-numbingly boring. Tonight was an interesting night, thanks not at all to the princesses’ frequent, less than subtle glances. Well, in Celestia’s case they were actually rather subtle. It only happened when he suddenly reached for the pepper. Pepper actually didn’t really help the taste of the shrubbery he was being fed. Shrubbery and gems. Gems weren’t as awful as he’d originally thought when he came to Canterlot. They were the only thing that had a bit of crunch to it. The leafs and salads and vegetables all tasted too soft. Too squishy. Like eating a foam ball. Gems had the texture of chips. Rubies were a bit spicy, and he really liked the sapphires. Sapphires tasted like oranges. Who knew?

Princess Luna was far less subtle. Her watchful gaze seemed to take in his every move. He was ignoring the both of them to the best of his ability, instead trying to feel the Siphon. Now that he knew how it felt... it was surprisingly easy, if extremely disorienting and weird. Each time he touched it, he heard something. Sometimes there was sadness, sometimes he heard sobbing, but often he heard a roar, like something had been screaming for years and never really stopped. It was scary, but it felt more right than happy pastel ponies.

“-nas? Jonas?”

His head shook as he brought himself back to the present. Luna was staring at him, all pretense of subtlety gone. He looked to the side, and saw Celestia was also staring at him with an intensity he hadn’t seen since that first night. Odd. They were usually at least non-threatening.

“Hm?”

Luna nodded her head to his own. Immediately he looked to his hair. He hadn’t spilled anything into it... was it growing too long? He liked to keep it shorter, but here in this weak world, nothing had been found to properly cut his hair. No? Not the hair? Lower. She was motioning for something lower. His hand moved to his chin, where the scruff was growing out of control for similar reasons. Oh. It was wet. His entire chin was wet, actually.

He looked down. Somehow he’d completely missed his mouth entirely, and poured the entire glass of grape juice down his front, starting with his forehead. Amazing. Simply amazing.

“Oh. I’m sorry...”

Celestia laughed, filling the overbearing silence with the musical tone of her merriment. It shattered the tension, and let Jonas breath just a bit. He quickly grabbed at his napkin, a piece of cloth that for some reason had embroidery in it. Did human royalty have this? It seemed silly to embroider with finery something meant for mopping up messes.

“And what has you so distracted, Jonas?”

He looked to the princess, and made the mistake of eye contact. He didn’t like looking the princesses in the eyes. Not since the day they took him away from Ponyville. Too many ponies had weird ocular powers. It was unfair and weird. Her pale eyes always looked so sad, and so... maternal. It was uncomfortable for him to meet her gaze. Especially because doing so felt like letting her into his head.

He broke eye contact after a fleeting second, to look at the princess of the night’s wings. Yes. Wings didn’t have a track record of messing with his head. Wings are good.

“I uh, just had a weird experience today. In the gardens? I think?”

For some reason, the princesses seemed to tense up at that one. What, were they keeping weird stuff in the garden? Secret stuff? No, that’s stupid. Well, talking ponies. Ok, it would be ill-advised considering Jonas was able to get into the gardens by simply strolling in. At a sprint. Totally normal, all things considered.

“Yeah. Just some... magic stuff, I guess.”

Yes. Good one Jonas. They’ll never get concerned over ‘magic stuff’ good work.

The princess of the night leveled a look at him, almost as knowing and condescending as the ones her elder sister had a tendency to throw around.

“Uh, I just, I think I... hm.”

His hands were gesticulating, waving vaguely in the air as he tried to grasp how to describe what it was like, sensing a big ball of poisonous emotions that existed in tangent with your own mind.

“Perhaps it would be easiest if you started with the beginning, Jonas.”

He sighed, reaching for the weird goblet-cup that had gotten him into this mess. His robe was wet now. Dandy. Did the ponies have dryers? Or were they more rustic? The technology was so haphazard, sometimes it seemed like a jet plane wouldn’t be out of place, but then nope they have balloons for that. Sometimes the balloons had rockets.

Oh, the princesses. Right.

“So, I finished with the doctor who was just great. He’s great. I think he’s a he. Anyways, so I went into town, which was fine. You know, I just wanted to work with the construction ponies. Anyways, I got there, and the boss guy was just... grinning at me. And I dropped some wood, and it broke. The stairs broke too. So I got upset, cause I messed everything up and the boss pony kept grinning but, I could see he didn’t want to. He was scared.”

Jonas was mumbling at the last part, his chin nearly to his chest. It made him sad, incredibly sad. The boss pony was grinning and it was just so false. It was wrong and stupid and Jonas did not like it. It was sad. Sadder than when Star Song stole his favorite book and-

Hold up. Hold up. Nope. Go back.

Star Song?

Jonas’ eyes were wide as saucers, now staring at the wall behind Princess Luna with a wild breed of intensity. He couldn’t see the wall though. No, Jonas was far and away, his mind staring at a glowing orb of... emotions? But he was staring with his skin and the hairs on his arms. He could feel the voices in his bones. He was tripping right the hell out.

But this was it! This was... This was what he was looking for since that moment in the garden. Clearer, though. It was clear. A thread connected to his mind, now receding. His mind? Or the thread? Details. He flowed towards it, chasing the thread, but it remained far away. Distant, slipping and sliding and now it was back in that orb. That massive orb he could neither see nor hear nor touch and-

And he was back. Gone from wherever that place was inside of his soul or mind or madness. He was once more sitting at an elaborate oak table, with two pony princesses growing impatient with his silence. He blinked his eyes. They felt dry, annoyingly so. He coughed.

“Um. That... uh, I’ll... I’ll just finish what happened, now.”

The silence was beyond awkward. He felt that at any moment if somebody had the gall to sneeze, the entire castle would burst into flames just to get out of dealing with the scene transpiring in the private dining room of the royalty.

“Uh, so I got upset, and started having one of my usual episodes, and stuff, so I decided to run away.” Because Jonas was the pinnacle of maturity and self awareness, yes.

“Anyways, so I ran for a bit, and ended up in the gardens. While I was there I... ok, here’s the magic stuff. So, I was in the gardens and thinking and trying to not be so upset and then... it’s... I think I felt the Siphon.”

Wow. And he thought it was silent before.

Jonas paused, wanting to gauge the reactions of the princesses before continuing. Silence. Stony silence, and level stares that weren’t... angry. Nor were they disappointed. They seemed almost... confused? No. An angrier version of confusion but without any anger. Yeah. That sounded right.

“Uh, but it wasn’t really a feeling like most of my other senses, you know? It was... It was like knowing something but not knowing how? But also like... I could see things with my bones instead of my eyes. And it was confusing and I really didn’t know what to make of it until just now when it happened again while we were talking and yeah that was my day how was yours?”

It was still silent, but now the princesses looked across the table at each other, making eye contact and silently communicating. Jonas let them. He was really quite done with this entire situation. Seconds turned into a minute. The lone human tried to eat his food, but really, the only thing on his plate that was at all edible was the lone potato that had been brought at his request. Absentmindedly, he reached out, grabbing the potato with a full hand. All the while watching the princesses, anticipating some form of an outburst at his sudden yet slow movement. Nothing. Nobody minded him and his potato. Tentatively, he began moving once more, slowly bringing the potato to his mouth. So far, so good…

He took a bite. It was mushy. Or, no. It was like everything else on this planet. So thin and weak and… fluffy that it had no real crunch. He’d tried eating some of that little purple dragon’s gems back in Ponyville. That had been ok. Tastier than he’d been expecting, and gratifyingly crunchy. This potato though. It was like it was already mashed. It had all the taste of a potato, but… it was just too light. Too fluffy. Blech.

As one, the princesses turned back to look at him. He made eye contact with the Princess of the Sun for one second, before hurriedly looking somewhere else. Wings. Wings are established safe places to look.

“Jonas. This is a worrisome development, and we are disappointed that you did not come to us sooner with it.”

He didn’t wince, exactly. But she had that maternal “Oh you let me down how could you guilt guilt guilt” tone down pat. Almost like she’d had centuries of practice or something. The other one, Luna, remained silent.

“Well, I got distracted. Doing stuff. You know? And I was a little worried because I thought I could be going crazy and I’d really rather not have to be thrown into a crazy house or whatever you ponies do, plus I mostly forgot until dinner.”

“Jonas. These are matters of vast importance, for the physical safety of the ponies around you, as well as your own mental well being. I must insist that next time you find yourself in such a position, please come directly to the court. My sister or I will be happy to assist you in any way we can.”

Her words felt warm and light, easing the tension in the room until it was just a memory. Jonas shrugged, and offered a small statement of agreement before turning back to his potato. The dinner dragged on, time passing slower and slower as he tried to eat another of the pony salads. It was worse than the potato. Much worse. He would have asked for another potato, or maybe some gems, but the serving pony was gone before he got a chance. When had the serving ponies come in? Had they been here the entire time?

. . . Whatever.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He was home. He was in his bed, and wrapped tightly in his sheets. Jonas’ eyes darted from the clock, digital analog, to the ceiling. His fan was there. The old beat up thing that squeaked ever so slightly every four minutes. Jonas reached below, and set to work on disengaging himself from the sheets. He was home.

No. No we’ve done this before.

Jonas reached the kitchen. She was standing there, newspaper in one hand, spoon in the other as she took another spoonful of cereal. Same as every morning before his life turned to madness.

“Jonas.”

He turned. A large dark pony princess. Yup. Yup yup yup. Great. Of course she wass here. Why wouldn’t she be? Can’t let Jonas have a night of peace, can we? Can’t let him find some quantum of solace. Heh. Movie reference.

“Jonas. Calm yourself.”

His arms crossed, and they felt angry and huffy. The television caught fire in the corner, and the corners of the room began to twist and rot with black smoke.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I would if I could have my dreams to myself. Y’know? I put up with freaking talking ponies all day, the least you can do is let me dream without having a talking horse burst in!”

Her eyes turned to the color of disappointment as she- They turned to the color of disappointment…

“Is there a problem, Jonas?”

His finger impudently lifted to point straight at the princess’ eyes.

“That is not a color. That is not a real color. We are not talking until you put your eyes into a color that exists. I have had it up to here with your crazy mumbo jumbo and I draw the line at colors that don’t exist.”

There was a moment of silence as the human glared indignantly at the pony. The princess’ shoulders began to shake. A smile came to her eyes which were still the color of disappointment. Then she began to laugh. It was a clear sound, like the ringing of a dozen small bells. Jonas stood there in silence as he watched the princess laugh.

“Jonas Bailey. We are here to assist you in a manner our sister cannot. We would like to show you something, if you would permit us to perform more of our…”

She smiled like a kid with a new toy.

“Pony mumbo jumbo.”

Jonas stared for a moment. This princess was so different from the one he’d been dealing with on a day to day basis. She wasn’t uptight, she wasn’t brooding. She was smiling and laughing at his situation. His situation which sucked but maybe was funny from an outside perspective? He could see it being funny.

He turned. There, frozen in the corner of the room, was Caroline. Frozen in time, with a kind look on her face. That was his dream. To see that look again, to reach out and…

It’s just a dream.

“Yeah. Sure. Do your thing.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

WHAM

That had hurt a lot less than it probably should have. Jonas struggled upwards, digging his feet into the golden flame beneath hi-

Ok he was literally standing on fire. Pony mumbo jumbo indeed. The fire was licking at his feet, making them feel warm. Not hot, not burnt, but warm. He tried to get a sense of how large the fire beneath him was. It seemed to reach a limit, an orb shaped limit that curved away as far as his eyes could see.

WHAM

A purple human(ish) figure stood beside him. Eyes the color of a private joke, with one hand stretched out and pointing to the sky. He looked up. Above them, hanging like vines draped against a glass ceiling, was black tendrils of fire. Every so often one of the tendrils would dart forwards, lancing towards the golden orb of flame. As fast as the black tendril moved, a dark blue triangle would appear, lancing out and slicing the tendril to pieces, letting the black flame disperse and pass into nothingness.

Yet some of the tendrils were too large or fast to be erased completely before reaching the golden flame. Fragments and embers would touch down upon the golden flame, and in those areas Jonas could feel a… a corruption. A wrongness. He was staring at something primeval and raw. Something that beat beneath the skin of the world.

He turned to the princess in the skin of a human.

“Alright. One question. Why are you a human?”

Yeah let’s get that one out of the way.

“We are deep within a human mind, Jonas. It is only natural to take a form more accommodating to your subconscious.”

“. . . Whatever. How about the whole…”

A glance.

“Fire thing? I’m sure it’s a metaphor. Possibly for daddy issues.”

The princess began to walk along the surface of the golden flame. Jonas followed without moving.

“You know of the Siphon. You know how it corrupts a heart and soul.”

She gestured upwards, indicating the tendrils, and then to the golden flame. Yeah. Pointing and two sentences an explanation makes. Fantastic.

“Ok, uh, sure. So the triangle that’s cutting up tendrils is… what, my faith in humanity? Power of friendship? True love?”

The princess cast him a sharp look. Too sharp. He was bleeding. He was literally bleeding. Dreams suck.

“You speak of the greatest forces in existence as if they are mere trivialities. How blind you are, Jonas Bailey.”

It was his turn to laugh.

“Yeah, ok. Sure. So the triangle is… my razor wit?”

Hey that was a quip that came out okay. Go Jonas.

“No, young one. The… ‘triangle’ is a representation of my magics. I have cast them upon you since the night you slept in the cave. The Siphon has begun to take its root upon your soul, Jonas Bailey. I have cast this magic to keep your mind your own.”

He didn’t have anything witty to say about that. They’d talked about what happened to his predecessor. Two hundred and sixty seven dead, and one viking locked away for a thousand years, waiting for the release only death offered him.

“Well. That was nice of you, I suppose.”

For several long seconds, he watched the black flame, the purple triangle, and the golden fire on which he stood.

“So. What now, princess?”
She looked down at him. When had she started floating?

“Now? It is your dream. I led you here, you may go wheresoever you choose.”

Like that, they were standing on a field. A large field, stretching out into forever. Green grass that shone with morning dew. He couldn’t feel the grass through his shoes. Odd. His shoes weren’t any real color, because he couldn’t remember the color they had been. It hadn’t seemed important.

The human-looking Luna was sitting in the grass, looking at the three suns that hung in the distance.

“So, not that suddenly dream-porting to someplace nicer than freaky fires and triangles… I really meant what’s next for me? When I’m awake.”

She smiled a sad smile, shaking the stars out of her hair before answering.

“We will be spending more time around you, Jonas Bailey. If possible, we would assist you in centering yourself. Together, we shall discover a way for you to suppress if not control the Siphon.”

He nodded, as the suns in the distance began to crumble. The trees followed suit, turning into vague geometric patterns as the color and solidity of this fake world shattered. Cracks in the ground raced towards him and the princess, who was already less than she had been. The color had left her body, leaving her a two dimensional piece of curved lines and short angles.

“I’m waking up, aren’t I?”

The curved lines and angles that was the princess smiled with teeth that had left the world of dreams.

“It has been a pleasure speaking with you, Jonas Bailey.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The princess was true to her word. The entire next day was spent in either her company or her sisters. After his daily talk-session with his pony therapist (which naturally got nowhere because seriously, pony therapist?) he spent several hours meditating in the gardens with Princess Luna. Sitting in silence, listening to the birds singing at a distance. Several more times, he would vanish and be before that great ball of fire, hear the fragmented voices of a billion pony souls, each crying out in frustration or sorrow. Some cries were small, some were large.
Several times he heard the thoughts of a pony on the brink of death before he latched onto the thread of emotion, following it to the source. The ever burning thing at the center of the Siphon.

A pony had sailed too far into the ocean. His boat had sprung a leak and his last hours were spent sobbing, desperately trying to plead or bargain for a princess, for a boat, for a chance to survive. Jonas had heard his thoughts through the Siphon, but it was easier this time. These thoughts were not his own. They felt like they were a voice on the radio. Still real, but not his. Not his. He wasn’t drowning. Jonas listened and forced himself to stay. It was… it was horrifying. But try as he might, there was nobody else to hear True Course’s last moments. The cute mare from down the street had been flirting with him, ready for their third date. He’d liked her. He’d liked the sun in her mane. She wasn’t going to know. Nobody would.

Jonas had stayed floating in the Siphon for what felt like hours. Listening with solemn intensity to the dying thoughts of True Course. He felt the wind of the incoming storm. Had felt True Course’s rage against the sky. Had felt his acceptance as the undercurrent grabbed his legs.

All too soon, the thread ended. Jonas clung to the feelings, the last burst of defiance from a pony he had never met, but soon they were merely smokey tendrils, fading into the aether.

He stopped trying to meditate for the rest of the day, staring out the window, imagining that if he stared long enough he could see the storm he knew was far, far in the distance.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It had been a full week of the meditation, a week since True Course had died. He’d sent flowers, anonymously, with the help of Princess Celestia. She hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t asked why. He’d told her it was a Siphon thing, and she’d nodded with an understanding look.

One notable benefit to his meditation: Jonas felt more clear-headed than he had in a month. Maybe two. How long had he been in ponyland? He’d have to ask the princess when he was done here.

Jonas was in a large, mostly empty stone room. There was a nice rug in the middle, on top of which he was sitting. In his hands was a book on Equestrian architecture. He’d picked it up out of curiosity, and now he was sitting in a room that had been occupied by a couple of magic students. The students had found excuses to leave within a minute of Jonas joining them. He didn’t blame them. To be fair, he was hardly reading. He was feeling the Siphon, without leaving his mind. He wasn’t in front of the ball of fire, he was still present, but he could hear the Siphon. Like having earphones in his brain. Except instead of the greatest hits of the 90’s, he was listening to the complaints and angst of a planet’s inhabitants.

He hadn’t gotten angry in almost four whole days, and he was getting better at controlling that anger. Progress was progress.

There was a knock at the door. He ignored it, instead flipping the book over and looking at the back. Ponies made such nice artwork for the books. How did they do that without thumbs? Was it magic? Wouldn’t that put Unicorns in a position of undue control over the education syst-

The door opened. Odd, normally he was aware enough to hear the clop clop of hooves. Four royal guards flanked the annoying red guard who had tried to stop Jonas from leaving Ponyville those weeks ago. By kicking him in the balls. Oh. Joy.

“Human. You are required in the courtroom.”

Well. That was new. It was barely restrained resentment. Jonas could feel it even without the Siphon. Cool. He picked at the thread more. There was resentment, but beyond that was the soggy feeling of fear. Fear? Interesting.

The Red Pony (Sky Hammer) coughed loudly. Right. Less pony mumbo jumbo, more real world pony issues.

“Yeah? What for?”

No. Don’t pick a fight. Just cause the pony in the back of your head is pissed at the red-maned idiot for forgetting their anniversary. Again. Wow did that thread show up a lot.

Why was the red pony smiling? He never smiled.

“The Minotaur ambassador is demanding your extradition. It’s time to go.”

The human in a land of ponies sat for a moment, staring blankly at the red pony who had a fondness for kicking humans in testicles (Which is just not okay).

“What? Why, what? How can they extradite me? I’m pretty sure I’m not a minotaur citizen, or anything. Right? How the-”

Sky Hammer had just turned and left, the other guards remaining in place to ensure the human followed, which he did out of pure frustration and confusion.

“Hold up. Hey, they can’t extradite me, can they? I mean, the princesses wouldn’t let that happen. I’m pretty sure it’s safer if I don’t leave Canterlot, right? Hey!”

Finally, the less than friendly pony whirled to face Jonas, glaring him in the eye.

“I was sent to retrieve you the instant the minotaur made his demand. You’re going to walk into the room, sit down, shut up and do what you’re told. If you attempt any violence, if you embarrass the princesses, I will end you. If you even so much as try to be clever, I will end you. Are we clear?”

Jonas almost rose to the bait. Without a doubt, to be threatened in such an overt way two weeks ago would have resulted in a decidedly undesirable result, namely one pony with little bone pieces where his big bones used to be. That was then. The new, more in-tune with the mystical nonsense surrounding him Jonas was in control enough to not slap the glare right off the short bully’s face.

“Clear.”

“Good. Move.”

They walked in tense silence all the way to the throne room.

Author's Note

I profusely apologize for the wait, but the first half of this chapter gave me no end of trouble, and then the last half grew up watching the first half and following its example.

I find solace only in the statement of "Better late than never" and only by muttering it over and over as I cry myself to sleep do I find the will to carry on.

Once more, infinite thanks to Cyberbanjo for his endless amounts of support. You can find him on youtube, where he does all kinds of cool voice-acting for this fandom and others. Check him out, you'll be glad you did.