Hello Again, Equestria

When Nathan’s book was finished, he knew it was time.

The book had been Twilight’s idea: to compile everything he knew, everything he had ever learned in school, every experience and memory he could recall, and put them all to page.  He started with the notes that Twilight had made after Nathan had first come to Equestria, as a “guest” in the royal palace. He expanded on them, refined them, then revised them again and again for clarity and accuracy. It was an autobiography, not merely for himself, but for the entire human race.

When he was at last satisfied with the end result, he gave the book to Twilight to file away in her library, and began making the necessary preparations to end his own life. He made a will that divided all of his possessions and filed it with the clerk at town hall. He then penned his final correspondence to his friends, then arranged for the letter to not be delivered for three whole months later. He packed a minimum of provisions, only what he would need for a one-way trip, and began walking southeast through the Everfree Forest.

His destination was Mt. Wormrest, a mostly-dormant volcano some five-hundred miles away. The train from Ponyville to Appaloosa would have cut his journey by half, but as Equestria’s only human, he would have made a very memorable passenger. He could not afford to leave his friends any indication as to what direction he had gone. Neither did he take the biplane he had constructed with Rainbow Dash’s help. At cruising speed, his machine could have reached the volcano in just a few days, but the noisy aircraft was anything but inconspicuous.

So, Nathan walked. He steered well clear of the few pony towns and settlements on his route, and even then traveled mostly at night to avoid any wayward hikers or other ponies that might have reason to wander the countryside.

It took Nathan two weeks to reach the volcano, and another three days beyond that to hike to its summit. Though it was summer in Equestria, the mountain’s upper reaches were still covered in snow, and it was very slow going. In the afternoon of the third day Nathan finally reached the lip of the volcano’s caldera and climbed down to the inside.

The floor of the caldera had long since cooled and crusted over, but was still warm enough to keep Snow from sticking to its suface, and here and there a few pools of molten lava still bubbled at the surface. Nathan’s plan was simple: he would jump into one of the pools of molten rock, which would instantly incinerate him, leaving behind no remains for his friends to agonize over. Nathan did not suppose he would especially enjoy the sensation of being incinerated, but he hoped it would be a relatively quick death. Besides, the idea of being completely destroyed and leaving behind no trace of his passing was appealing to him. It seemed the next best thing to having never been born.

At the floor of the caldera, Nathan decided that the largest of the lava pools would suit his needs best. As an added benefit, a natural rock outcropping from the wall of the caldera overhung the pool, and would make a suitable diving platform. It took Nathan only a moment to climb to the top of the outcropping. Once there, he walked to the edge of the, looked down at the lava pool, and gathered his courage.

The outcropping was perhaps a hundred feet above the lava pool, but Nathan could feel the heat rising from it even from that height. He nudged a nearby rock over the edge with his toe, watched it fall for a second, and be instantly liquefied as it came in contact with the lava.

After a few moments, he was ready. He backed away from the ledge to get a running start, but just then he heard a sound. It was so faint that at first he was not sure that he had heard anything at all. But then he heard it again: the unmistakable sound of a baby crying, the sound echoing off the volcano’s inner walls.

Nathan climbed down from the outcropping. The floor of the caldera was nearly half a mile across, and it took him fifteen minutes to locate the sound’s origin. At the north end of the caldera, amid a scattering of precious gemstones, Nathan found a newly-hatched baby dragon.

Nose to tail, she was about the length of Nathan’s forearm. Her scales were all white, with soft, pink spines protruding from her back. She was crying loudly, and the sound was almost indistinguishable from the sound a human infant would make.

Nathan gently picked the dragon up and cradled it in his arms. The moment he did so, the infant stopped crying, and nuzzled into his chest. Her eyes slowly opened, and after a moment, sleepily settled on his face.

Nathan cooed at the infant in spite of himself. He opened his jacket and nestled the tiny thing inside, then made for the wall of the caldera, the same way he come down.

Nathan paused his story to look down at the little dragon named Ambriel, who was still contentedly munching gems with her head in Nathan’s lap. He stayed silent for a long moment, caressing her spines with a sad look on his face.

“That first week was bad, Applejack. I couldn’t get her to eat any of the food I brought, or any of the berries or roots I found growing here on the mountain. She almost starved.” Nathan began to tear up again. “Eventually, I took her down to the lower reaches of the mountain, and managed to set up a trap for some of the mountain goat ewes that live there. I took some of their milk and gave that to her, and that was how I fed her for the first few months. The goats here seem to be much more intelligent than the ones we had on earth, and I think they understood the situation. Eventually they started coming by to let me milk them willingly, without my having to trap them.”

“For the first couple months we mostly followed the mountain goats around the mountain, just sleeping right on the grass. But it was almost winter by then, and I knew we would need better shelter. When we found this little valley here, I made the cabin and planted the crops. I had saved the seeds from the apples I brought with me, plus the eyes of the potatoes. The zap apple trees grew just a few days after they were planted, and that one harvest gave us food for the whole winter. Even so, that first winter was rough.”

Applejack watched Nathan’s eyes glaze over at the memory. After a moment, he shook his head. “But, this year has been a lot better. Ambriel is on solid food now, and between the crops and the gems I dig up, we’re doing…we did okay.”

“Slim gem!” Ambriel interrupted, oblivious to the weighty conversation the adults were having. She was triumphantly holding up a particularly long and thin ruby. Then the little dragon furrowed her brow, performing some sort of impression. “Step into a slim gem!” she said with the deepest voice she could manage, then devoured the stone with gusto.

Applejack laughed. “What in the world? Did you teach her that?”

Nathan smiled and shook his head. “It’s…nothing. Something stupid from my world.”

“Uncle, can we play outside?” Ambriel had finished her meal and crawled up to look Nathan in the eye.

Nathan forced a smile at the youngster. “Okay, sweetheart. We can play outside.”

“Yay!” the young dragon scrambled off Nathan’s lap and waited patiently by the door, wagging her scaly tail in anticipation like a dog.

Nathan stretched and stood up. “Well, Applejack, can I give you the grand tour?”

*     *     *

After Applejack assured Nathan that she was feeling better and was in no danger of feinting again, the three left the little log cabin and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. While Ambriel danced and spun nearby, Nathan showed Applejack his little orchard. Though the trees scarcely came up to Nathan’s chest, they were all heavy with huge, sumptuous-looking apples. Applejack beamed with pride as she recognized the various varieties of apples that she had personally helped cultivate back at Sweet Apple Acres, and admired the job Nathan had done of pruning them for maximum yield, just like she had taught him.

Nathan showed her the small lake not far from the cabin that was fed by snow melt from the upper reaches of the mountain. He showed her the system of sluices and trenches he had dug to irrigate his crops, and the little shed he had built nearby where he dried and stored any food that was leftover.

“I help!” Ambriel proudly proclaimed.

“Yes, and Ambriel is very helpful in drying the food.” Nathan smiled as he petted the dragon’s head. “Bam-Bam, will you get us some apples for dinner? Be sure to get a few extra for Applejack.”

“Kay!” With that, the little dragon scurried off on all fours back to the orchard. Nathan and Applejack followed at a slower pace.

They walked in silence for a moment, until Nathan noticed that Applejack was staring up at him.

“What?” he asked.

Applejack gave a little smile. “I think it’s downright decent of you, what you’re doing here for that little girl. I reckon you’ve done right by that little dragon. She sure seem to think the world of ya’.

 Nathan shook his head and looked after Ambriel as she scurried from tree to tree, taking care to select only the biggest and ripest apples. “No, Applejack. If I were decent, I’d have taken Ambriel back to a pony town, where she could live in a proper house where there was always enough to eat, and see a doctor when she was sick, and have little friends to play with instead of just me. But I couldn’t let anybody else see me alive, because I couldn’t bear to face you all again. I’m a coward.”

“But you’re not a coward, Nathan!” A note of exasperation crept into Applejack’s voice. “You didn’t’ have to take in that little girl like you did. What do you suppose would have happened to her if you hadn’t come along? And that little girl looks as happy and healthy as any filly I’ve ever seen.”

Nathan said nothing. The two had reached the little plot of potatoes, and Nathan knelt down and reached into the dirt under a plant and started pulling out small, hoof-sized vegetables.

Applejack knelt down near him and watched him work. “Why do you do that, Nathan?”

“Do what?” he asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant.

“Always put yourself down like that.”

A particularly large potato was reluctant to come out of the ground, and Nathan had to reach in with both hands to wrench it free. When it finally came loose, Nathan sighed and looked at his two dirt-covered hands, then balled them into fists. “I hate humans, Applejack I hate myself.” He put the potato on the pile with the others. “You know that.”

“Don’t mean I understand it,” Applejack said softly.

“Uncle, help!” Ambriel had returned, struggling to carry a half-dozen apples in her claws.

Nathan snapped out of it, and smiled as he took a few of the apples our of her claws. “Bam-Bam, you’re so silly. What did I tell you about carrying so many at once?”

*     *     *

Dinner that night was a simple affair. Over the stone hearth in one corner of the log cabin, Nathan made a respectable pot of mashed potatoes in his little camping pot, with a little goat cheese on top for added flavor. When the three had finished that off, they washed the pot and had a rudimentary applesauce for dessert. They had no sugar, but the Apple Family Jonagolds were more than sweet enough on their own.

They had no proper plates or bowls to eat out of, so the three of them ate directly out of the pot. Nathan and Applejack sat on the bed, while Ambriel sat on the floor, playing with one of the many wooden toys Nathan had carved for her between bites. Applejack did most of the talking, catching Nathan up on everything that had happened in Ponyville since he’d left. The evening wore on, and soon Ambriel began to yawn and rub her eyes.

“Uh oh,” Nathan said. “Bedtime for Bam-Bam.”

“I want a story, Uncle!” Ambriel said, sleepily crawling onto Nathan’s lap.

“You want a story?” Nathan narrowed his eyes, accusingly. “Didn’t I just tell you a story last night?”

“Story!” Ambriel protested with a smile.

“Well, alright.” Nathan bit his lip and looked around for a moment while he thought. Then, he looked back to Ambriel and smiled. “There once was a beautiful baby dragon named Ambriel.”

Ambriel giggled and pointed to herself. “Bam-Bam!”

Nathan continued. “Ambriel lived on the slope of a great volcano with her uncle. Uncle loved Ambriel with all his heart, and Ambriel loved Uncle just as much. The two laughed and played in their little valley on the slope of the volcano, and they were happy together.

“One day, a wicked witch was flying high overhead on her broomstick. When she saw Ambriel and Uncle, she was jealous of their happiness. So she cast a spell on Uncle, and turned him into an apple tree.

“Ambriel was sad for Uncle, and she began to cry. But the Uncle tree said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a tree is much better than being a man. I can give you apples to eat, so you will never be hungry. When it is hot, my leaves will give you shade. When it is cold, you can use my branches to make a fire. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel wasn’t sad anymore, and she and Uncle were happy in their little valley.

“When the wicked witch saw this, she became enraged, and she used her magic to turn Uncle into a cloud. Ambriel was sad for Uncle, and she began to cry. But then Uncle cloud said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a cloud is much better than being a man. Every day I can bring you water from the sea, so that you will never be thirsty. If you are hot, I can block out the sun. And if you are tired, you can rest on the top of me. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel wasn’t sad anymore, and she and Uncle were happy in their little valley.

“When she saw this, the wicked witch became even more engraged, and she used her magic to turn Uncle into a star. Now Ambriel was even more sad, because she did not know where he had gone, and she cried all day long. But as the sun set and the stars came out, Ambriel heard Uncle’s voice coming from the sky. When she looked up, she saw Uncle star smiling down at her.

“Uncle star said, ‘Don’t cry, Ambriel. Being a star is much better than being a man. I can give you light to see by, and if you are ever lost I can help you find your way home. I will visit you every night, and I will always look after you. Now we can be together forever.’ After he said this, Ambriel was not sad anymore, and she danced and laughed all through the night in Uncle’s starlight.

“When she saw this, the wicked witch became even more enraged. She wanted to turn Uncle into something else, but now that he lived in the sky, she could not reach him.

“Years went by, and Ambriel grew up to be a beautiful dragoness, as big as the tallest tree. The wicked witch grew old and died, but the Uncle star kept his place in the sky. And just as he promised, he visited Ambriel every night and watched over her while she slept. And the two of them lived happily ever after.”

Fresh tears spilled from Applejack’s eyes as Nathan reached the end of his story, and she smiled. Ambriel just clapped her claws together and squealed with delight.

“Uncle star,” Ambriel repeated. Her giggle was cut short by a yawn, and she began to rub her eyes.

“Okay, bedtime for Bam-Bam.” Nathan scooped the little dragon up in his arms and carried her around the corner, to her little bed of stone and pine needles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night-night, uncle,” Applejack heard her say from around the corner. By the time Nathan returned, the little dragon was softly snoring.

Nathan sat next to Applejack on the bed. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. Nathan’s little log cabin had no lamps or candles, so the only light came from the little fire in the hearth that was quickly burning down to embers.

It was Applejack who finally spoke. “So what happens now?” she asked.

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know. I assume the dragons use this volcano during their migration, and Ambriel’s egg somehow got lost during the last one. My plan was to take care of Ambriel until the next dragon migration, but…” he shook his head, puzzled. “It’s been two years now, and I haven’t seen even a single dragon flying overhead. I don’t understand.”

“Nathan, darlin’,” Applejack said, patting his knee. “The dragon migration only happens once every forty years. We’re not due for another one for another thirty-five or so.”

There was another long silence. “Oh,” was all Nathan could think to say.

They said nothing else after that, just held each other as they stared into the fire. Before long, Applejack began to yawn as well.

“Guess we ought to get some sleep,” Nathan said, rising to his feet. “You take the bed, I’m fine on the—"

Before he could finish, Applejack wrapped her forelegs around his middle and tackled him back into the soft pine needle bed.

“Ah…” Nathan began to protest.

“Shh.” Applejack pushed Nathan flat on his back. She removed her hair band, gave her long blonde mane a few shakes, then settled into Nathan’s shoulder, letting one hoof drape across his chest. “Lunkhead,” she said, with no small amount of anger in her voice.

They lay like that for a long time. Though Nathan could no longer see Applejack’s face in the dying light from the fire, he occasionally felt the wetness from her tears on his chest.

“AJ?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Can you forgive me?”

Applejack sighed. “Maybe.”

Nathan supposed that was the best he could hope for. He began to pet Applejack’s coat with one hand, eliciting a contented sigh from her.

Another moment passed, then Nathan decided it was a good a time as any. “Applejack?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her reply came without hesitation.

Nathan tilted his head forward and softly brought his lips to hers.