Luna could feel their presence again. They were watching, always watching, like a cloud of parasprites hovering on silent wings. Few could sense them as they floated in a haze on the other side of waking, peering through the veil. Most ponies lived in peaceful ignorance of these dreamers; only those few with a strong connection to the ways had any inkling they were even there. Celestia knew, of course, but for all her power, she was a poor second to Luna when it came to walking the dark, quiet paths between worlds.
The dreamers' numbers had grown lately. Luna didn’t know where they came from or why their presence was increasing. Though they gave no indications of hostility or danger, their mystery and elusiveness posed the sort of challenge that she could never resist.
The last play of sunset had left the clouds and Luna's moon was proud overhead. She would not be holding court tonight. Instead, she would walk the ways between once more, attempting to solve the mystery of the watchers yet again.
Entering her chambers, she strode to her workroom and settled herself down on a soft cushion at the center of the rune-inscribed floor. She fell into a light trance and calmed herself, focusing inwards, letting go of thought and sensation; becoming one with the night.
Not of the night, but near it, this was a familiar space tread upon but lightly by the waking world. Kin to a dream, this place lay between, where boundaries were ragged and different worlds bled together. Here one could listen to sunshine, smell time or taste whimsy. By nature it was a formless void of shimmering energy; a shining emptiness aligning itself to the few fragmented thoughts that found their way here, forming a tatterdemalion patchwork. A particularly strong mind could mold the landscape somewhat, and over time a series of journeys or travelers might form a path.
Luna found herself standing on one such way; a fuzzy gossamer path that smelled faintly of cotton candy and ran away into an effervescent mist. Luna appeared as she did in life; dark and regal, and her sure mental grip was reflected in her sharp focus and solid substance.
The dreamers she sought, by contrast, were hazy and indistinct with most having no understanding or sense of identity to give them form. That proved to be the perfect camouflage here, however, against the shifting background of mixed and mingled thoughts. The few times Luna had found them before, she had literally stumbled upon them, jolting them back to their unknown origin in the process. Tonight’s journey would likely be as fruitless as the rest, but she was determined to try nevertheless. As in the waking world, Luna could sense their presence, but their diffuse nature in this land of mimicry made them actually harder to find at short distances. In practice, it was like playing a game of 'hot or cold' with a particularly mischievous Discord. Luna was certain they were near at hand, but there was a big gap between knowing they were here and actually finding one.
As she continued to stand on that path of gossamer and cotton candy, however, a new sensation crept up on her. She felt it first as a gentle tingle in her hooves; the echo of a power she had not felt in millennia. Somepony here has a key, she realized. Has one of the ambassadors returned? She stepped off the path and made her way towards it.
As she walked the sensation strengthened, developing into as a gentle warmth in her horn she could follow easily. Finally, she saw a change in the swirling mist ahead of her. Though as hazy and diffuse as the rest of the landscape, a patch glowed with the unmistakable energy of a key, setting it clearly apart. A key. I’d almost forgotten about them completely. It's a shame I don't recognize the ambassador, but after so long that comes as no surprise.
Luna approached closely now, but the dreamer seemed completely unaware of her as she reached out to it. It jolted in confusion at her touch, but the contact allowed them to communicate.
Who are you? Why are you here? Luna asked.
It didn't answer. If anything, it became more confused. Shifting in agitation, it seemed to be in danger of dispersing, as so many others had. It seems no more composed than the others. This may not be an ambassador at all. She thought. Still, it was her only lead so far, and she would have to act quickly, if she wanted to avoid losing it.
Be calm, Luna whispered gently, attempting to soothe it.
Again, it did not answer directly, but it quieted at her voice, and she could see its shape firm. After a moment, it replied, though in images, not words. The perfect cone of a mountain, white and serene. A bustling city on the water, reaching out with a web of steel and light. Islands on the edge of a vast ocean, curving to greet the rising sun. The image of a world - a marble of blue and green suspended alone in an ink black sky.
We know this place! Luna smiled happily. True, it had changed; she did not know the glowing city. Still, the mountain, the land itself, and most importantly, the inhabitants were unmistakable. The quarreling poets! What did they call themselves again? jinrui, runa, anthropos, ren lei, ubinadamu, yaas'áraar, humanae? So many ways to say the same thing - no wonder they could never understand each other. She thought to herself. In return, she showed the dreamer her own pictures of Equestria, and felt its recognition in response.
What is your goal? Why are you interested in Equestria? Luna asked again.
Luna could see its presence was gradually solidifying, though it was not focused enough for its image to take a proper form. Whatever else it might be, it was clearly not experienced here. Her question gave it pause for a time, but when it replied, it finally did so in more than just feelings and images.
Luna first saw again a picture of its world – still green, but browning at the edges. Birds choked on polluted air, while rivers flowed with unnatural rainbow hues and no fish to be seen. She saw deserts grow while oceans were harvested and dwindling woods became quiet and empty. Greed. Apathy. Conflict. It said. We steadily add mouths to feed on a world already past its limits. Overshoot leads to crash.
Are you in danger? Luna asked, concerned.
Danger? No, not me personally, and not today or tomorrow. It replied. Perhaps not at all. But I know the threat is real. Humanity will doubtless survive, but I fear for our civilization and its achievements. Our basic problems of food, energy and population are being ignored. We prefer wishful thinking to unpleasant truths, buy silver bullets instead of preventative medicine and reward exploitation above stewardship. Our growth is consuming its own underpinnings, but we are wedded to it. Still hazy, the dreamer’s form was starting to shake like a flag in a strong wind. Though I cannot predict the future, I fear the worst. How I wish I could escape to a peaceful harmony.
Luna realized she had made a mistake. She had won its attention, but had gone too far. It lacked the experience to maintain control and was losing its tenuous hold on the dream. Luna could already feel it beginning to pull away into the waking world. Its last statement had given her one last idea, however.
You say you are ready to leave? Luna confirmed.
I am eager to. It replied.
The dreamer held the key, but the key only served as a beacon and an identifier. Luna had helped forge both the lock and the complex, interwoven set of enchantments, physical components and ethereal energies it guarded. This magic gestalt represented the combined efforts of dozens of Equestria's most talented unicorns over a score of years in pursuit of an ambitious goal. Still, considering its power and complexity, in Luna's hooves the gestalt proved surprisingly deft. Before the dreamer could unravel completely, Luna had summoned her power, reached out to the key, and turned the lock.
We welcome you, she thought with a smile.
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*
I grumbled as I was abruptly drawn awake by the alarm.
Blindly I reached over to the nightstand to shut off my iPhone, and groaned as I clumsily knocked it to the floor.
Something was off. I opened my eyes.
My ceiling swam into focus, and I gasped. I could see perfectly! Better than I could ever remember, in fact. This wasn't like the time I had fallen asleep with my contacts in. No, the detail was too sharp, and there was too much of it; my whole field of vision was bigger, but I could focus better as well. Not only that, the contrast was stronger, colors were deeper, and everything just seemed more vivid.
It seemed like I lay there for minutes staring at the ceiling in my half-lit room, tracing the lines of the ceiling, taking in the play of light on the curtains, watching the lucky arrow I'd hung from the ceiling slowly pivot in the still morning air.
Okay, I have no idea what’s going on, but lying in bed isn’t going to get me anywhere. I thought. At least, I need to shut up that blasted alarm. I looked over at the nightstand and saw… my… hoof? Hoof. Black hoof. Attached to... not an arm, no, a leg. A foreleg, my foreleg, covered in a coat of dark blue hair.
I lay there in shock for a few moments, mind racing in circles as I tried to take stock. When I crossed my eyes, I saw a muzzle. Still laying under the covers, I tried to catalog the sensations of my body. Huh. Hair, hair everywhere. It still feels like I haven't lost the family jewels, at least. Toes, not so much. Wait, is this a tail?
The bits of evidence were adding up, but I was having trouble accepting the sum. I was a pony? I had discovered MLP over a year ago, and had gradually transitioned from just enjoying the show, to looking at fan art, listening to fan music and reading more than my fair share of fanfics. The idea of turning to a pony was not new; I'd read the conversion bureau, and figured I would have been towards the front of the line. Still I had never had any problems keeping fantasy and reality straight. Was this all some sort of dream?
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*
Okay, whatever the heck was going on had not made my alarm any less annoying.
I attempted to roll out of bed and stand up, and succeeded partway. On the plus side, lying on the floor in an uncoordinated heap left my nose just a few inches away from where my iPhone lay at the foot of the night stand, and I reached over to pick it up.
I was promptly reacquainted with my lack of hands. Right, new plan. I considered the problem. Pick it up with my mouth, try to cradle it between my forehooves. It doesn’t seem to be possible to push the home button. Great. Let’s try to push the tiny little button on the top instead... damnit…. now I have to pick it back up again. Finally! Now how in blazes am I supposed to unlock it? ... Oh hell, I think I just violated my warranty and my taste buds at the same time.
Blessed silence at last. I could finally try to think.
At this point I realized I was fully awake and rapidly poking holes in my ‘this is all a dream’ theory. For one thing, I could never think this clearly when dreaming. I could also read the covers of books and tell the time. My gut clenched, and I could feel my breath go ragged as I fought to stay composed. If I’m not dreaming, what the hell is happening? I took a few deep breaths, and tried to relax. Whatever’s going on, I don’t seem to be in immediate danger. Actually, come to think of it, I feel great. Not only can I see well, I’m full of energy, and nothing hurts – even my bum shoulder feels fine. After a bad fall from my bike a couple of years ago, I thought I would never be quite right. It seemed being a pony was not without its advantages.
As my initial panic subsided, I was able to think a bit more calmly. I’m going to have to treat this as real, at least until I find out otherwise. After all, if I’m dreaming, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Suddenly waking up standing in the street in my underwear? Actually, that does sound pretty bad, come to think of it. There doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it, though. I need to know more.
I slowly climbed to my feet, and stood wobbling for a bit; my limbs weren't arranged the way I was used to, and my reflexes were all wrong. The morning air was chill, but the cool temperature didn't bother me. I started to walk unsteadily across my room and around my bed, to where I had a full-length mirror.
As I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. I had a horn! I guess it's fairly easy to overlook from the first person perspective, but there it was, sprouting from my forehead. I reached up and tapped it gently with a hoof; it seemed to be solid bone under a thin layer of skin, and the shortest fuzz of hair. It didn't hurt when I touched it. Did this mean I would be able to do magic? I hadn't the foggiest idea where to start. I tried to concentrate on it; now that I knew it was there, I could feel its presence, but I didn't feel anything special about it. I tried willing a book to lift, or my horn to glow. Nothing. Yet another mystery to delve into later, when time allowed. For the moment, I put it aside to continue my self-examination.
In addition to the midnight coat and black hooves I noted earlier, I also sported a mane and tail of the palest blue with a few darker streaks running through them (though not quite as dark as my coat). Coming closer to my reflection, I saw my eyes were bigger, though not as big as in the show, and had dark silver irises.
I still had a pair of plaid boxer shorts more-or-less wrapped around me, and was wearing the same tan socks I wore to bed. The brony artists were right - socks do look kind of neat, even on stallions, though they didn't seem to be very practical. There were a couple things I had to check, though, so the boxers had to go. I shed them after a brief struggle, and turned to look at myself from the side. Well, no cutie mark, but at least I'm not a mare.
I stood there a few moments more, trying to connect the image I saw with my sense of self. I had a surprising level of control over my tail; I wouldn't be swinging lassos with it anytime soon, but I could probably dust a park bench if necessary. My teeth appeared pristine (though now undoubtedly herbivorous), and I had a long, flexible tongue. I also found my ears to be a source of fascination. I always loved how expressive they were in the show. Now that I had a pair of my own, I found them to be surprisingly tricky to work consciously, though they responded perfectly if I didn’t think about it. They were actually quite useful, acting like a pair of directional microphones. I could home in on and track sounds quite precisely, either individually or in stereo. They were a bit worse at picking up ambient noise, however, so I found myself unconsciously sweeping them about. This would take some getting used to. Abruptly, my ears swiveled and locked on, as an unpleasantly familiar sound broke the early morning quiet.
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*
I groaned, as my backup alarm sounded.
At least this time I only dropped the phone twice, and swore half as much. The taste had not improved, however.
Normally, I would have been shaving and getting a shower at this point, but normal and I had parted company sometime the night before. I began to consider the scope of my predicament. At least it’s Sunday morning, so I don't have to worry about work quite yet. I need to know more about what is going on, though. This transformation seems to be the real deal, but am I the only one affected?
First things first, I headed to the window. My apartment was on the sixteenth floor of a tower on Odaiba, one of the artificial islands in Tokyo bay. My room looked out west towards the city, so I could look down at the buildings and roads, and I carefully peeked outside. Well, all the people on the sidewalks are still people. They don’t seem to be excited or rushing about in any particular hurry. No sirens or columns of smoke coming up from Tokyo. Everything seems pretty normal, actually.
I went over to my PC and nosed it on. Again, I was frustrated by the unsuitability of my new form for the familiar interface. Even sitting down was a trial. I have no idea how Lyra sits as she does; I managed, but it was not pleasant. Then I got to wrestle my keyboard, with some extra special thoughts for whoever came up with the practice of using special characters in passwords. The mouse was slightly more manageable, and I was able to get to the web without too much difficulty.
The top story was about a spectacular Aurora Borealis from an undetected flare, but other than that all the news articles told the same sad stories as always. Floods were washing away whole cities, while elsewhere farmland was drying up and blowing away from unrelenting drought. Starvation stalked the developing world, while the Middle East armed itself to scrap over the dwindling reserves of oil. Politicians were busy pointing fingers at each other while the media talked about the latest TV shows and movies instead. The health section had plenty on dieting, but nothing about a mysterious outbreak of equine transformations. Science discussed the recent spate of earthquakes in Japan, but there were no nanotechnology breakthroughs or purple ponification goo.
I shifted over to Equestria Daily. Lots of discussion about last night's new episode, a drawfriend, more music than I had time to listen to, but no unusual news items. I'm fairly something like this would make it to the front page in ten seconds flat, so they probably hadn't heard anything. I was briefly tempted to take a picture of myself and send it in, but refrained. Aside from the difficulty involved in working the camera, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to draw attention to myself just yet.
I walked away from my PC, and lay down atop my bed to ponder. Okay, I have a few more clues, but nothing with enough certainty to make a call. There are just too many unknowns still in play, and any of them could unravel any plan I might make. Am I actually an equestrian pony? If so, does anypony in Equestria know, and will they do anything? Am I the only one? Just not being in the news isn’t a definitive answer. Is this permanent? What I did know was that my life, as it had been, was completely and totally upended.
There’s no way I’ll be able to work tomorrow, my train of thought continued. Hell, I can hardly work a computer, and that’s assuming I’d magically make it to the office or past security. Let’s not forget the co-workers flipping out. “Hey, how’s it going. Oh don’t worry, It's just me, John – I just woke up as a pony, that’s all. It's probably not contagious.” Yeah right. I doubt I could convince anyone of who I was right now, not that I'd blame them. So much for all that college. I had spent a lot of time and effort getting to where I was in life, but it was all out the window now. I’d just exchanged a career in telecommunications for a stint at a sideshow, if I was lucky, and a lab specimen if I wasn’t.
Why me? I thought. Sure I’m a brony, and there aren’t many of us in Tokyo. Since when has that actually mattered as far as actually turning into a pony? And why now? It’s not as if I’ve done anything speci- Wait.
I looked around my room again, my eyes finding my backpack, and I sat bolt upright as I actively considered the previous day. I did find something unusual on that hike...
Yesterday had been beautiful; the weather had finally broken after a series of storms and it was unusually mild for February. I was looking forward to getting out of Tokyo. I grew up on the outskirts of mid-sized city in the Pacific Northwest; we had most of the major amenities, but were also close to the countryside. Being cooped up too tightly in the urban jungle drove me a bit stir-crazy, so I liked to take whatever opportunities I could to escape.
This time, opportunity had led about two hours southwest of Tokyo, near the base of Mt. Fuji. A bit outside my usual stomping grounds, but I had heard that the recent earthquakes had affected the local geothermal activity, and that some of the onsens had significantly improved. I had a simple plan: go hiking and then have a nice soak.
Things started well enough; I rode the train to a town called Fujiyoshida, one of the main staging points for Fuji climbers. It was extremely quiet, but this was to be expected since February was way outside of climbing season. I used one of my favorite exploration strategies – pick a bus at random, and ride it to the last stop. It ended up heading towards the mountain, but not going to any the main trailheads. Actually, the final stop seemed rather temporary; just a wide spot on the road, barely big enough for the bus to turn around. This was necessary, however as further progress was blocked off by a couple vehicle blocks covered with warning signs. By now I was the only passenger, and the driver seemed a bit surprised when I moved to get off.
As the bus sped back down the hill, I looked around a bit. The road curved around the foothills, so that I couldn’t see how far it went. Below, I could see a rolling forest – some call it the sea of trees. Above me, rose Mt. Fuji. The ground here was lightly forested, and steep on either side of the road. The winter wind was cold, but I knew I would be comfortable once I got moving. The road barriers were just large concrete blocks; enough to stop a car, but easy to walk between. I wasn’t exactly sure what they said, but I was pretty sure it was just intended for cars, so I continued on foot.
About 200 meters further I found the reason for the barricade – the roadbed had shifted, and a series of narrow cracks had opened up in the asphalt, reaching across the entire width of the road. Though perhaps dangerous for the weight of a car, a person wouldn't matter. Just beyond the cracks, I could see a set of worn steps climbing the mountain behind an old stone Torii gate. Though the road continued onwards, I was curious about the steps.
The climb was just a few flights, but enough that I was not bothered by the temperature once I reached the top. As at the bottom, there was another stone Torii gate, beyond which was a flat courtyard leading to a small Shinto shrine. The shrine was nestled in the entrance of a narrow valley, and was clearly ancient. The building was well maintained despite its age; the paint looked recent, and the grounds were clean. Around it, the trees grew taller than the scrub on the mountain slope, and I could see the grove continued beyond the shrine. I wondered which was older – the buildings or the trees.
I tossed some coins in the altar and made a brief prayer to whatever spirit resided within. 「Thank you for this nice morning, I would be grateful if it continued to be pleasant.」 Not exactly Shakespeare, but my Japanese is still pretty limited.
There was little to the shrine besides the gates and the main building, but I was curious about the woods behind it. Walking around the side, I saw there were indeed some dirt paths leading back into the trees. That looks like it might do for my hike. I thought. There were a couple of signs, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of them, and continued on.
The air was peaceful and still under the trees while the sparse winter leaves let in most of the sunlight. Twigs and fallen leaves covered the ground, along with a few stones. I followed the trail for a few minutes; it stayed mostly flat, though I noticed the valley was gradually widening.
I heard the sound of water off to the side, and was curious. I don’t recall seeing a stream by the shrine. Does the valley have another exit? I cut across the forest, pushing through the underbrush until I reached the source of the noise. It wasn’t a large stream, and I suspected it hadn’t been there long, from the way it was cutting in to the soil. I decided to follow it upstream. It twisted and turned, still settling in its bed, but it flowed steadily and lead me to the head of the valley. There a jet of water poured forth from a narrow crack in the vertical stone wall. The water fell about three meters onto a flat stone where it flowed across the rock in a thin sheet, before collecting into the stream I first noticed.
Something was out of place in the shallow waters on the stone. Looking closer, I saw a small figurine sitting in the flow. I walked forward and leaned out to pick it up. It was an equine, carved out of a black stone and small enough to fit comfortably in my hand. The mane and tail were of a silver-blue fiber. The style was a bit abstract, with the eyes just a line, and markings carved on the sides and forehead. It stood in a tall, regal pose. I couldn’t tell how old it was, but the craftsmanship was quite good.
I doubted it was supposed to be in the water. If it stayed, it would be washed away, so I picked it up and stowed it in my bag. I’d turn it in on the way out.
I walked a little further to the true head of the valley, but quickly lost my way, and found myself back at the waterfall in short order. Following the stream back down the other way, I passed my original point and saw where the water was pooling in a depression along one of the walls. I wasn’t sure if it had found an underground channel to drain into, or if it would soon overflow and continue on. Regardless, there was nothing I could do about it, so I continued out of the woods and to the shrine. I looked around briefly and called out, but I couldn’t find anyone. I determined to return the figurine on another day.
I walked down to the road and back past the barricades. Not waiting for the bus, I headed back down the road, enjoying the walk. I eventually made it back to town, and the onsen was everything I had hoped it would be. To top it all off, I made it back to Tokyo just in time to catch the livestream of the new episode before going to bed. All in all, it had been an excellent day.
This has to be connected. I thought.
Gingerly, I reached down and lifted my backpack up onto my bed. Hoofing the flap open, I looked in at the figurine. It had changed noticeably from yesterday. The material was still black, but now seemed to be slightly translucent, like obsidian. The form had altered as well; the markings on its side had been replaced by a pair of folded wings, and a horn jutted proudly from its forehead. The silver blue hair seemed the same, at least.
I reached in and picked up the figurine, cradling it in my hooves. Though the room was cold, the figurine felt strangely warm and somehow familiar. Something tugged at the back of my mind, it reminded me of... a dream? Yes, I had dreamed about this, and I remembered that I had not been alone in the dream. We had, not exactly spoken, but communicated. About Equestria. Luna. It had to be.
Things were starting to fit together, though they still didn’t tell me what to do. It seemed that somehow Equestria existed, I was an Equestrian pony, and I was probably the only one on Earth. Unfortunately, there were a couple of other pertinent facts I had no doubts about: I was living near the heart of the world’s largest metropolis, and time was running out on my current situation.
I could see only three basic courses of action; stay, run, or go public.
Staying was tempting. I had access to food, water and information. I wondered. If somepony has turned me into an Equestrian, why am I still on Earth? Something could always have gone wrong – should I expect a rescue party? I doubt my apartment is anything special, but this is where I turned into a pony, after all, so it may have some sort of affinity. Odds are they’d start searching here, if they didn’t have some way to track me directly. If the cavalry doesn’t arrive, however, I’m going to have company sooner rather than later. Then I’d end up having to flee or go public without much say in the matter.
Running had a certain appeal as well. I'd have the most freedom of action to investigate my situation and figure out how to connect with Equestria. Admittedly, hiding out in the forest won’t help me to actually do any sort of investigation, but I’d have as much time as I needed. I’m not exactly a survival expert, but my food now grows everywhere, and I have built-in cold weather clothing. I do run the risk of being found or caught, though, which could really suck. Just running off would cause waves, but I’m an only child, Mom has already passed on and Dad remarried. He’ll be okay, and my friends and co-workers would eventually get over it.
Going public would open up an enormous can of worms that I didn't want to deal with. To be honest, though, it’ll probably happen eventually, whether I like it or not. If I take the initiative, at least I can do it on my terms. The last thing I want to do is disappear into some government research facility, and my best defense would be visibility. They’d have a much harder time pulling something if I sought out a camera crew than if I were to be found by the police at my apartment or tracked down somewhere by animal control. Granted, the explanations would still be awkward as hell, but at least I’d have control over the timing, and be starting out bathed and fed. Unfortunately, though it’d help me avoid being a lab specimen, I still doubt I’d have much in the way of control of my life anymore. And while I’m sure a team of scientists would greatly improve the odds of figuring something out, I wouldn’t be the one calling the shots, and I doubt I’d have any say in how that information was used.
I was at a crossroads, I didn’t like my options, and the clock was ticking.
Author's note: The dream sequence that originally opened chapter one was confusing and hard to follow, so I've rewritten it to be more engaging and understandable. It also adds some background information (which aids in understanding the current exchange), so depending on when you read the chapter, you may want to double-check the intro (up until the point where the alarm goes off). Also, apologies for the glacial slowness updating.
The moon sailed slowly across the velvet sky as Celestia sat on the balcony of her chambers. The land below Canterlot was bathed in its gentle silver light, with only a few scattered golden glows picking out denizens of the night. If she looked far enough, she could see the small cluster that was ponyville, and was fairly certain she could pick out the candle of a certain faithful student. Celestia laughed softly; that particular point of light was no sign of a fellow early riser. Celestia settled back and slowly savored a cup of tea as she took in the cool air and early morning quiet.
The stillness was broken by a gentle knocking and a familiar voice, muffled by the thick chamber doors. " 'Tia? Are you awake?"
Celestia looked up from her tea with a smile. "Come in, sis" she replied.
The princess of the night strode in as the door swung silently open. Her head drooped a bit, but her eyes were bright.
"You look tired." Celestia observed. "Busy night?"
"Verily." Luna gave a wan smile. "Fruitful but troublesome. I found our phantom visitors, and I may have caught one."
Celestia gave her a questioning look. "May have? Shouldn't you know for sure?"
Luna answered with a pained expression. "The matter took an unexpected turn. Do you remember the ambassadors?"
"Ambassadors? Of course I do." Celestia snorted. "Are you saying Sharptooth or one of the others is connected to this?"
"Sorry, I should have been more specific. I didn't mean one of the current ambassadors. Do you recall when we were reaching out to other realms across the veil? Back before I, well," Luna looked morosely at the floor, "lost myself." She said in a small voice.
Celestia stood and enfolded Luna tenderly with her wing. "That's behind us, sister. Do not dwell on it. Sit. Have some tea. You were talking of other worlds. "
Luna smiled wanly as she accepted a cup. "Yes. Do you recall the quarreling poets? The ones who looked rather like hairless diamond dogs, but with a flat face and no tail or claws. Creative and inventive, but prone to arguing over the littlest things."
"Ah yes, I recall them. We learned a great deal from each other, but they couldn't survive the ambient magic here. That's why we created the transfor- oh. So you used the transfer gestalt, then? But, if you're talking of ambassadors, what do you mean by saying you caught one? That's hardly diplomatic."
"Well, it had one of the keys to the gestalt, but I'm not certain it was an ambassador." Luna's ears drooped and she fidgeted with the cup in her hooves. "Time was of the essence, so I was not able to ask it properly, but from what it said, it did want to come."
"Luna." Celestia chided. " You know that's against the principals we created the gestalt for."
"Yes, I know." Luna said contritely. "But it did seem familiar with Equestria. And somepony has been watching us ever since I returned."
"That may be true, but it does not make it right." Celestia was silent for a moment, considering. "Still, what's done is done, and at worst we can always send it back. So where is it, then? We should be able to ask it directly, as I recall." Her eyes widened in alarm. "The gestalt's main anchor is at our old palace - is it lost in the Everfree? I can write Twilight and have her alert the Elements. "
Luna's expression fell further. "I'm afraid that won't be necessary, sister. Location is indeed the crux of the matter, but not as you think. The spell went awry - as far as I can tell, our otherworlder has not gone anywhere at all. When I engaged the gestalt, the transformation functioned flawlessly, but when it was to effect the shift, it abruptly collapsed." She grimaced. "I've spent the last few hours trying to trace the fault, but all I can tell is that it appears to be physically on the other side. I should be able to isolate the problem further, but it may not be possible to fix remotely. I have some ideas, but I'm afraid that we are at an impasse for the moment."
"That could be quite bad." Celestia looked pensive. "You said it has been transformed. I am concerned how it will fare, set apart from its kin."
"I am afraid I cannot say." Luna said, crestfallen. "When the shift failed, it drained all the energy from the spell and broke the connection to the key. Thanks to my conversation with it, I know the world to search, but the actual finding will still be difficult."
"I love these morning visits, Lulu, but you could have brought better news." Celestia sighed. "I'm glad that we have solved the mystery of our visitors, but it sounds like we've caused a good bit of trouble in the process."
Luna looked up resolutely. "Yes, I know. But I will set things right."
"I know you will." Celestia nuzzled her affectionately. "And you really are the best pony for the job. But don't be afraid to ask for help, either. Remember I will always support you, and I know I am not the only one. Don't take this all upon yourself out of a sense of obligation. What matters now is making sure everypony is safe."
"Thanks, Tia." Luna's eyes misted. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. I promise not to take any chances, but I also will not burden anypony else unless it proves to be necessary."
"That's all I ask." Celestia's answered with a relieved smile.
Silence fell once more, as the moon sank serenely towards the horizon.
I don’t know how long I just sat there on my bed lost in thought, but eventually I boiled my choice down to three elements. What was the risk, what was the gain, and how much control did I have over the outcome.
I thought back to the dream, and debated with myself. It seemed like Luna offered me passage to Equestria. Turning into a pony would reinforce that, except, obviously, I’m still here. Something might have gone wrong, but as far as I can tell, the offer was there. Do I want to go to Equestria? Well, yes. Even before I was a pony, that would have been a pretty easy choice. So Equestria is the ultimate goal.
Staying put might increase my odds if they send somepony after me, but I have no real idea what the chance of that is. At the same time, I know for a fact that I’m going to be missed at work, and the longer I wait here, the more ways that could go wrong. Slightly higher reward, but more risk and less control.
I’d be personally safer if I went public. I’m not sure I’d feel right introducing humanity to another planet, though, after the mess we’ve made out of this one. Besides just thinking about the publicity is unsettling. I shuddered. Bunch of fame vampires would drink me dry. Low risk, but I lose control, and what’s the point if I get stuck as a pony on Earth?
So that leaves running. I concluded. I’d risk getting caught, but meanwhile I’d be able to move. Most importantly, if and when I found something, I’d be the one deciding what to do with it. High risk, high reward, and I’d be the one calling the shots – if I can pull it off.
And that’s the real question, isn’t it? A small, treacherous corner of my mind murmured. Can you actually pull this off? Isn’t this just hubris? What do you know of roughing it? Do you even know the first place to start looking with all this freedom? You’re just afraid to deal with the personal fallout. You want to stop juggling and walk away. Let the balls fall where they may and someone else clean up the mess.
It's true, I reluctantly conceded, I am afraid of dealing with all the repercussions. It's not only that, though. This is the one option that most directly pursues my goal. Granted, it has issues, but so do the others. I sighed. This just feels like the right choice, even if it may not be for all the right reasons.
Having finally come to a decision, I now had a direction and a purpose. I looked at the clock, it was still just a little past ten. So much planning and prep, but no time to do it in. My stomach growled. Planning is going to have to wait a little longer.
I wandered into the kitchen of my tiny apartment. I was no longer tall enough to reach the cupboards, and I wasn’t about to try cooking anything without hands. Something simple, with no preparation. Fruit would be good, I mused, or vegetables. After all, I am a herbivore now. I tried to work up a brief pang of loss for meat, but the very thought no longer appealed. I had some lettuce, cucumbers and tomatoes in the fridge. I’d eat those first – the fruit would keep longer, and give me some rations if I took it with me. It also didn’t hurt that the vegetable crisper was at the bottom of the fridge.
Huh, pretty good, I considered. Not the best thing I've eaten, but definitely more flavorful than they used to be. I guess I should have expected it. Better vision, sharper hearing, why shouldn’t my taste buds get worked over as well? The veggies had taken on subtle flavors I hadn't noticed before, and were more satisfying.
I had to restrain myself from sampling the fruits I was planning to take with me. My willpower gave in elsewhere, however. On impulse, I went out to the balcony and sampled some flowers I had in covered pots. Well, I will be leaving anyhow, I rationalized as I nibbled a leaf. It would be simply cruel to just leave them here with no one to water them. At least this way, their juicy buds and tender sun-warmed leaves will not go unappreciated. It would make sense to sample a few more, as well – there may be differences between different plants of the same species. Plus, scientifically, a single sample from each plant may not be sufficient to draw strong conclusions; I should try to be rigorous after all. Oh, and, ah, I seem to be running out of plants, heh. Imagine that.
Right, planning! My mind refocused as I gazed over the denuded balcony. Well, at least I would no longer be distracted by hunger. I also had fewer concerns about provisioning in the wild – assuming I could get there. I trotted inside and lay down atop my bed once more. First things first, I need a goal. The whole point is to get to Equestria, and my best lead is the figurine, so I need to retrace my steps to that shrine. Unfortunately, I can’t exactly hop a train like I did before. After all, the purpose of running is to be able to move with more freedom, but I’m not going to have much luck if I get the countryside up in arms looking for me in the process. Just running won’t be enough. I’ve got to disappear completely, and give no one any clues as to what they’re actually looking for.
Getting out of Tokyo unnoticed would be a tough order. To minimize my exposure, I would have travel at night and hide during the day. Tokyo can be active surprisingly late, so I had a short window each night; probably just a couple hours between one and three in the morning - after the last train, but before early risers started stirring. I'd want to identify the shortest route available that still was studded with parks or other areas I could hole up in.
I dug out a map and realized I’d have to head almost directly away from my eventual goal. Mt. Fuji is to the southwest of Tokyo, but the only bridges to Odaiba that are suitable for low-key passage are to the northeast. The density also drops off fairly rapidly in that direction, and I recognized it was probably my shortest route to the countryside. I resigned myself to a long slow circle around the periphery once I got out of the city.
Now I had the rough outline of my plan, but I needed to flesh in the specifics, so I hoofed it back over to the computer. I sat down with Google maps for a while, and looked over the area I was considering. It could work. I can follow a couple of the major expressways - there are a few parks nearby, and it looks like there is a lot of vegetation planted along the sides. Those sound barriers could end up coming in handy, if the plantings still have enough leaves to hide me from passing cars. Google street view may not be perfect, but it's still pretty damn useful. Depending on how much ground I can cover in a night, it looks like it could take me five days to a week to just make it to something I'd consider rural. Another few days to make it to a proper forest. Once I do make it out that far, though, circling around the city will be a chore - its tendrils reach deep into the countryside. I guess I don't have much choice in the matter One mistake could screw everything up - better to spend the extra time.
Enough with the computer. Working it was a pain in the ass - literally. I'll save this info later. I took another look at the clock – still somewhat early in the afternoon. Now that I have some semblance of a plan, time to think gear. What do I need, what do I have, and what can I actually take?
One of the often overlooked benefits of living in Tokyo is that the looming threat of a city-shattering earthquake does, at least, encourage a bit more disaster preparedness than most places. In my case, that meant I already had my emergency bag packed. I grabbed the straps in my teeth, drug it out from under my bed and looked it over. It's longer than I am now – that's not going to work. I can take the day pack, though, if I repack judiciously. Passport? Hmm. I'm not sure it'd actually do me any good, and it might be suspicious if it was gone. I'll have my gaijin card, so probably best to leave the passport. I'll grab my emergency cash reserve, though. Leatherman? I can't use it yet, but maybe eventually. Take. Flashlight? Take. First aid kit? hard to use, but important if I need it. Take. Clothes? Ha! Lea– Hmm. Wait. I'm not actually sure if this transformation is permanent. It'd suck if I was out on the road and then turned back without a stitch to wear - especially in the middle of winter. Damn. I suppose taking a few would be prudent. Food? Let's see how much room I have at the end. Pen and paper? Take.
That covered the key items from my kit, so I looked around the rest of my room.
Toiletries? Well, I either can't use them or don't need them. Leave. Camera? I'd never forgive myself if I made it Equestria and didn't take pictures. Take. Laptop? Much as I want it, it's too heavy and might be missed. Leave. Towel? I hesitated. I don't really have room, but I can't violate such a fundamental law. I contemplated my small travel towel. I'll try. Phone charger? Take, though I doubt I'll find outlets very often. I wish I had one of those neat solar ones. Still, occasional electronics is better than none. How am I for money? Let's see... between my cash reserve and my wallet, I've got about 46,000 yen. That should last me a while, considering I'll only be able to patronize vending machines. Thank goodness Japan is a cash society, so I've got a lot on hand – I can't leave a trail by hitting up ATMs. I need something for the cold as well, though not as much as I normally would. My winter jacket and windbreaker should do. That'll give me something to lay on at night, or wear if the weather gets bad. Still room for a couple bottles of water, and a few granola bars.
I assembled my day pack and tried it on. It had a tendency to shift on my back; I suspected proper saddlebags would've been much better, but it would have to suffice.
Back to the computer. I didn't have a printer, so I had to transfer my map data to the phone. This was, if anything, less convenient than trying to turn the alarm off. I did finally wise up a bit in using the phone, however. It turns out that using a stylus in your mouth is much more pleasant and effective than using your tongue. Who would have guessed? After this, I disabled wireless and email, set all connections to manual, and shut it off. Properly vanished folks don't use phones, after all, and I'd have to conserve the battery for the foreseeable future.
It was starting to get dark outside, and I looked at the clock again - a quarter past five. Food o'clock, time to polish off the crisper. I decided to be a bit more adventurous this time, and brought out the sandwich makings. No daffodils, but I can make do with lettuce, cheese and a few condiments. Pity I can't handle a knife to add onion or slice up my last tomato. The finished product was not my finest creation, but it tasted pretty good once I figured out how to go about eating it.
I still had time to kill before it was time to set out. I got up and started to pace the floor. What to do? I should probably clean. Make it look like I just disappeared hiking, and tidy up any traces of pony while I'm at it. I put away all the items scattered from my earlier packing, then checked the bed. Sure enough, I'd left some hair on the sheets. This won't do. Washing wasn't really practical, so I busted out the vacuum and attacked the bed, the floor and anywhere else I could think of. I then emptied out the vacuum into a new garbage bag. I guess I should finally get rid of these socks, too. They're amusing, but just not practical for hooves, I concluded, adding them and the boxer shorts as well. That's all the physical evidence I can think of. I could wipe my hard drive, too, but that'd be suspicious. There may be an embarrassing amount of MLP fan content, but at least there's nothing on there that directly screams 'I am now physically a pony.'
Still too early. I felt like I usually do at an airport; arrive early, rush through security and then loiter at the gate. Hurry up and wait. Might as well do what I always do, waste it on the internet. I spent the next several hours reviewing my planned route, doing various equine-related searches, and generally stuffing my head with as many potentially useful bits of knowledge I could find. Anything to keep my mind off what I was about to do.
Midnight came and went, it was a quarter to one - time for final prep. I went one last time to the balcony and looked out. Tokyo glimmered across the water, a slowly shifting mantle of color, like a landed galaxy. Closer by, the sidewalks were deserted and I could see only a few cars driving in the distance. The trains should be shut down, and most of the cars would be taxis, ferrying the stragglers home. I'd normally be feeling tired, but I was too hopped up on adrenaline. Is it going to be like this from now on? I wondered. I gave my room a last once-over, then worked my jacket on before stuffing the pockets with fruit. Everything is turned off and in its proper place, just like always. I've made my preparations and assembled my gear. Time to do this. 'He who hesitates is lost' and all that. Of course, they also say 'look before you leap'. I guess the ineffably wise don't have to concern themselves with self-contradiction.
Pack on my back, I nosed my way out, locking the door. The same door, the same quiet click of the lock as always, but this time it had a somber finality. I was headed out, but with a whimper, not a bang. At this time of night, everyone in the building should be asleep. I dropped the trash bag down the garbage chute. They'd collect it the day after tomorrow - I felt that would be soon enough. I risked the elevator to save time; a minor gamble, but it worked.
I was glad my building was old enough not to have any security cameras in the lobby. I'd have to be on the lookout for those from now on. The metal front doors swung out at my touch, and I stepped outside. I shivered, though I couldn't say if it was because of the temperature or the adrenaline. Tokyo is on the coast, so the ocean keeps the temperature moderate and it rarely snows. Still, between my winter jacket and new built-in coat, I hardly felt the cold.
I heard the lock click as the door closed behind me. The streetlights and buildings all around cast pools of light, but the sidewalk was deserted. Glancing up, the sky was slightly overcast, with the city-lit clouds concealing the moon and stars. There was a light breeze, and the only sound was its rustle through the dead grasses and the few leafy trees.
As I ventured forth, I discovered a new wrinkle of pony physiology. It turns out those big eyes are good for more than just melting hearts - they also take in a lot more light. While no night vision goggles, I found could see much better in the dark than I ever could before.
I initially walked east along the concrete paths of the apartment complex, set back a ways from the sidewalk and road proper with a channel of the bay to the side. All to soon the manicured grounds of the apartment complex ran out, and I approached a wide street with an elevated expressway running north and south on the far side. I turned to the north; this was the first of several channels I would have to cross, and I'd be at my most exposed on the bridges. Crossing the intersection, I walked up a winding bike ramp to the foot of the bridge. Fortunately, this bridge was a pedestrian walkway, separate from the adjacent surface street, which was in turn parallel to the expressway further down. Unfortunately, the thin railing of the bridge offered no concealment. I looked around and listened carefully; the streets were empty as far as I could see, and the only sounds were the quiet lapping of the waves on the abutments below and the rapid beating of my heart.
I screwed up my courage and stepped onto the bridge. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I thought nervously, my walk accelerating unconsciously. Soon I was running, but shortly after I had passed the midpoint, my ears swiveled behind me and I skidded to an abrupt stop. Car! I looked back in panic, and was relieved to see that it was on the expressway. Elevated as it was, I doubted the driver could see me, even if they looked. Still, I made myself into a small, still lump of fabric until it passed by. I reached the other side, and darted off the bridge, breathing rapidly.
I'd gone only a few hundred meters, and already my heart was pounding. Apparently a full-body refresh does not necessarily enhance athleticism. I stood there for a few moments, catching my breath. This side of the river sprouted a forest of mid-sized office buildings. A few scattered lights were on here and there in the upper floors, but even in Japan I doubted many salarymen would be at it during the small hours of Monday morning. Looking down the sidewalk, the road was to my right, buffered by a sparse hedge. Dead weeds were on my left; neither affording any significant concealment. I started off down the empty sidewalk.
Fortunately, the offices were set back a little ways from the road; walkways and manicured grounds buffering them from the street. I kept my eyes and ears open, but saw no security guards or other signs of life. I didn't see any cameras either, though I assumed there must've been a few. My only hope was there wouldn't be too many cameras focused on the road, and my passage would be either unnoticed, or ignored. There was precious little else moving at this time of night to attract the eye, but I had no choice but to walk and hope.
After a couple of blocks, the offices ended as an overpass loomed up ahead. The road to my right rose to meet it, while the corporate lawns abruptly sprouted a wrought-iron fence. This is hardly better than the bridge, I realized. All these fences. If anyone comes along, I have absolutely no place to go. I didn't have any choice, though, and at least no cars would be able to see me from the elevated onramp. The bottom of the overpass was another story, however. A lattice of steel beams blotted out the sky, held aloft by massive pillars of concrete. Chain link fences stood on all sides, and the main road once again ran alongside the sidewalk, the onramp no longer a shield. The space was dimly lit by a few streetlamps, their small pools of light picking out the underside of the beams and outlining the heavy chains, joints and shock absorbers that protect the structure against earthquakes.
My footsteps echoed, unnaturally loud and sharp in the sterile acoustics. Twice I stopped, thinking I'd heard something, but each time the fading echoes of my hoofsteps were replaced by only the hollow whisper of wind on concrete. The other side wasn't all that far - just a few tens of meters, but it seemed to take an incredibly long time. Looking ahead, however, I saw open fields on the far side, and picked up my pace.
I relaxed a bit as I reached the fields, expecting this, from my earlier virtual scouting. What I was not expecting, however, was yet another fence, though perhaps at this point I should have been. Nuts. And here I was looking forward to a bit of a break. Still fenced in, and these fields go on a long way. This new fence was a two section job, the upper two thirds chain link, with a thin panel of sheet metal at the bottom. I looked a bit closer, and saw the sheet metal was only held in by a few screws. Well, when all you have is a hammer... I picked a panel missing a couple screws and carefully backed up to it. I've gotten the hang of walking, but this is going to be a bit trickier. Bucking a sheet metal panel at 1AM was exactly as subtle as you'd expect, and the first time I overbalanced and landed on my face, to boot. Cripes. Not working as well as I'd hoped. It took two more bucks to get the hang of it, and then I was through. I thought I might have heard something again, but I wasn't sure, and I had no intention of sticking around to find out for certain.
Even dead, the grass on the other side was a nice change from concrete and asphalt, and I was glad to put some distance between myself and the road as I paralleled it. I wanted to stop and take my coat off; after the previous exertion, I could feel the sweat beginning to dampen my back. Unfortunately, I had no easy way to either remove the coat or carry it. I had to settle for taking a short break, and trying to get as much ventilation as possible before carrying on. The fields went on for a couple of blocks, though and the precaution of going through the fence turned out to be completely unnecessary. Even with the racket I made, the sidewalk was completely deserted the whole time.
The empty fields ended as the expressway came to another intersection, though this one was rather more complicated, with additional lanes arcing overhead. Not wanting to repeat my earlier performance at the fence, I backtracked until I found a panel that had already fallen off. Back on the sidewalk, I again walked the chain-link gauntlet to the overpass. This new overpass was much as the first, but I did my best to ignore my apprehensions, and slunk through as quickly and quietly as I could.
I emerged into an area of low slung retail and light industry. Warehouses, distributors, wholesalers; small cogs in the economic machinery that sprout cheap metal buildings wherever land costs trump customer traffic. I mused. Thankfully as deserted as it is boring.
A little further, and I came to another bridge. I had been expecting it to be a challenge like the first, but after all those fences, it barely fazed me.
The far side of the bridge was the most welcome sight of the night so far. The bank ahead was a riot of trees and other greenery. The path was set back from the road as it bordered against a sprawling park. With trees to my side, and some bushes between me and the road, I was finally able to walk comfortably. I was tempted to sample some of the greenery, but refrained. I've got to keep up the pace. There will be plenty of time for a rest and a snack when I get there.
Halfway through, the park was bisected by a small road. A footbridge arced above, but I ignored it to dart across the deserted road. On the other side, I reached a small plaza and stopped dead in my tracks, pawing the ground in irritation.
Ahead lay a choice between hedged paths, and somehow, these hedges were the last straw. Arrrgh! Will these walls never end? Concrete pilings, chain link fences, brick walls, iron bars and now hedges. It's like I'm a drop of water. As long as I went with the flow I never noticed the riverbed, but as soon as I try to move in a different direction, I encounter nothing but barriers. I don't know where the line is between guidance and control, but I can tell I'm on the wrong side of it.
I sighed and picked the one closest to the road, again keeping a paranoid watch on the path and road. This was not helped by the rustling of the trees around me. I may have been hemmed in again, but my luck held, and I was relieved to finally make it out of the park. A short walk and I reached the final bridge of the night.
I take it all back, the hedges and fences were great compared to this. I thought as I trudged along the gently arcing sidewalk. Any way I looked at it, this bridge was harrowing. The walkway was wide, straight, well-lit and bare. The guardrails bordered the road directly, offering no concealment whatsoever, and the expressway and feeder roads were all directly adjacent. Most importantly, however - it was long. The better part of a kilometer, judging by how long it had taken to reach the halfway point. There had been a couple of cars that came by on the expressway already, but I had crouched low against the railing, and huddled into a lump under my jacket. The wind was stronger here as well, plucking at my mane and running icy fingers through my coat. Hot as I was, I didn't mind much, and the heavy scent of the sea was refreshing. At the crest, I could finally see the lights of the Ferris wheel. At last, my goal was in sight.
Nearing the far end, I could see the path descend from the bridge on a spiral ramp. It was there that the odds caught up with me. I'd done my best to reduce the chance of any encounters, but given enough time, even the unlikely becomes inevitable.
I heard the bicycle before I saw it. Looking back, I could see the light from the lamp cresting the top. By now I was very near to the end, and broke into a run. I ran a ways down the spiral before huddling up against the inside wall, hoping the rider would cut wide and overlook me.
I could hear the bike come closer and closer, circling down from above, until suddenly it was on top of me, I heard a yell and- OUCH my tail! I cried out involuntarily at the unexpected pain, and my eyes flew wide just in time to see the bike slide down on its side, impacting the wall. Looking back, I realized the rider had lost traction on my tail. They never seemed to have this sort of problem on the show. I thought through the pain.
My attention was quickly drawn back to the scene before me, where the rider seemed stunned, but not badly hurt. Well, he was breathing, and I didn't see blood or joints bending the wrong way, at least. I can't stay. I realized. The less impression he has of me the better. As he shook his head groggily, I took off again down the ramp before he could regain his focus. Much as I wanted to, I couldn't afford to help. I couldn't even apologize.
Fortunately, I was practically at the park now, and one last footbridge to cross the expressway was just the final irritating hurdle of a long, arduous night. Murphy seemed content with his handiwork, however, and I passed over to the park without incident.
Entering the park was a huge relief. After kilometers of concrete and asphalt, it was nice to feel grass and dirt underhoof again. Despite the chill air, it felt somehow warmer here. That was a mixed blessing, though, given my exertion. The sky was dominated by the Ferris wheel, illuminated with green standby lights. Pretty and all, but it's bad enough trying to hide myself from the ground. Better to avoid having to hide from the air as well. I moved deeper into the park.
The park appeared well forested from the satellite photos, but the heavy summer tree canopy generally didn't translate into good, concealing thickets of brush in the winter. Fortunately there were enough different varieties of vegetation that there were bound to be a few that still had leaves.
My improved low light vision helped immensely, but I still had a very hard time gauging the daytime visibility in the dark of the night. Still, I finally found a thick stand of bushes that met my needs. I eased myself into the depths of the foliage, until I found a small hollow at the center. It was with some relief that I finally took off my jacket. My back was sodden with sweat, and it felt good to just stand there for a time, the steam roiling off of me. I'd have to be more careful - I didn't want to overheat or catch chill, and it was clear I wasn't familiar with my own limits anymore.
It was there in the dark shadows of the grove that it really began to sink in. As the adrenalin slowly drained away, my body cooled, my mind churned, and I reflected. I was adrift and alone. I had hurt others. In one day, the bedrock of my life had turned to sand. I chose to take a leap of faith, and now I was falling blind, with only the hope that someone, somepony would catch me.
Somehow, in the midst of all that chaos, I had been able to keep my cool. I had been the eye of my own hurricane; while there was planning and preparation to do, my thoughts were directed, focused. Collect. Analyze. Execute. No time, no need for second guesses. But here in the dark shadows, the weighty thoughts I'd been evading hit home with dreadful finality. My doubts reasserted themselves a hundredfold, and I could practically hear doors slamming and feel the heat as my bridges burned. How can I ever explain to my family and friends my cowardice in running away? My lack of faith in not confiding in them? That in my hour of need I chose to hurl myself off the precipice alone. I'm a terrible son, and a lousy friend.
I seldom cry. Not because of machismo, family influence or any such reason; just that few things ever struck quite deeply or accurately enough. I suppose I've always felt a bit out of step with the status quo - I've looked at the world from a different angle, not shared quite the same vision. It made it easy to tell myself things didn't matter, and if you don't care about the pain, you're not really hurt, right? But it's a short step from not caring about the ideas to discounting the people or events. To not spend the energy to honestly engage others, never finding those you are in step with, not working to bring out the positive traits, or being unable to respect in disagreement. It's seductively easy to skim through life, just skating the surface. Living as a splendidly independent hedgehog, bristling in emotional armor.
It turns out that such isolation only seems easy when it's voluntary. When life is forgiving and you are still reaping the benefits of belonging. When you can don or drop the mask and blend in as needed. I no longer had that luxury. When it really mattered, the choices became hard. I could no longer claim dispassion, and the strongest set of armor meant nothing to a blizzard. I can't keep making the same mistakes. I have to do better.
My throat grew tight, and my breath caught as the dam crumbled. When wordless tears finally fell, it felt like they'd go on forever. But even as I poured my heart out into the night, sleep crept up on silent feet and stole thought away.
