Chapter One: Arrival
1.1
The multiverse theory holds that, parallel to our own universe, there exist an infinite number of other universes that vary from our own in a myriad of different ways. For instance, there might be a universe two hundred thirty one spaces over where left was right, a universe five hundred thousands spaces over where life never existed or a universe three quintillion spaces over where the laws of physics operate in a subtly different manner that prevents the creation of atoms. All of these exist on the same n-dimensional space, next to each other but never touching.
Some believe in this theory, and enjoy bringing it up frequently, often to the dismay of their colleagues, friends, and family. Others believe that it is complete hogwash, and that the idea of multiple universes is stupid, idiotic, blasphemous, or all three. Many more simply haven’t heard about it or have not wanted to develop an opinion on it, and instead go about worrying about taxes, jobs, and romance, which is arguably a better use of time.
But regardless of what personal opinion (if any) one might hold, the fact remains that, at exactly 7:31 PM one spring day a small hole appeared in the fabric of the universe. It didn’t have a color, exactly-- one might say that it was black, except that would imply that there was something there for light to not reflect off of. No, it was a hole into elsewhere, elsewhen, a terrible hole whose very existence would be enough to strike madness into the hearts of those who looked upon it. The tear came into existence in an instant, ten feet above the ground, deposited something into the air, and then very abruptly disappeared an instant later, leaving all as it had once been, with the exception of one poor Megan Keefe, who suddenly became aware of her surroundings a split second before she slammed into a snowbank.
Megan slowly extricated herself from the pile of snow and stood up. She took a quick look around to try to figure out her surroundings. To her surprise, she seemed to be on the top of a mountain in the middle of winter. This was especially astonishing seeing as she had, until recently, been in the middle of relaxing on the beach. The juxtaposition of recent warm sand and current freezing snow left her utterly befuddled.
Unfortunately, she did not have very much time to stay in this state, as her current attire of a t-shirt and shorts proved completely inadequate for the current situation. She shivered, then frantically looked around for somewhere less likely to completely freeze her solid.
The mountain extended a distance in her vision before it was obscured by the blowing snow. It stretched out both upwards and down, so she knew that she wasn’t at the summit, but besides from that, she had no idea where she was, with respect to the mountain or with anything else, really. Her logical mind screamed at the inconsistency and strangeness of it all, but it was forced to take a back seat to her instincts, which told her that it would probably get warmer as she descended down the mountain.
After a minute of slogging through deep banks, her feet were completely numb. She hadn’t thought to wear shoes to the beach, and now she was paying the price. A minute later and her original starting position was completely lost to the snow coming down in droves. The wind even removed the evidence of her footprints ten steps behind her, caving the path she’d carved and replacing it with the same white plane that existed everywhere else.
After three minutes, Megan could feel the icy fingers of frost climbing into her body. She’d had the presence of mind to keep her fingers tucked under her armpits, but the rest of her body experienced the full force of the bitter cold. She faltered for a moment, feeling her strength start to leave her body. Just then, though, she saw a light shine out toward her, cutting through the falling snow like a shark through the sea. She let out a cry and gathered up the last of her energy, rushing toward the light in a mad dash. It grew brighter as she approached it, but as she approached her leg collapsed underneath her and she lay on the snow, too weak to get up. Still, the light moved closer, and she saw two forms appear out of the corner of her eye. She tried to call out to them, but the words just mumbled and slurred in her mouth.
She knew what was going on with her, although she had never expected to experience it. Megan was a coast girl through and through, and although she had moved from the East Coast to Silicon Valley, she had never spent much time in the continent in between and as such had had never expected to get hypothermia.
She could feel her pulse slow as the frost reached up and tried to claim her heart. The curtains tried to shut but she fought them open. She remembered reading that the surest way to die from hypothermia was to allow yourself to fall unconscious, and so she fought it with every last vestige of her failing strength. Even as she did so, a small part of her mind was still dedicated to logging what happened for future reference, and it was this part that noticed that she was being picked up by one of the forms. The increase in the speed of the air rushing past her exposed skin told her that she was traveling, although it was hard for her to judge how fast she was traveling, or where.
She fought for an eternity, and just when she felt herself losing the battle the wind cut off suddenly. Light streamed into her barely open eyes, jolting herself more awake, and the sound of foreign voices slowly trickled in through her ears. She could tell that she was still being carried, but even in the light the cold had only stopped its advance, not retreated. It wasn’t until she felt heavy cloth be pulled over herself and her blood started to slowly thaw that she let herself give in to the weariness that suffused every aspect of her being.
When she came to, the first thing Megan noticed was how hot she was. Something very heavy, very warm, and very furry was lying on top of her. As she slowly opened her eyes, she realized it was fur of some kind, although she couldn’t tell what type. Her whole body felt stiff, but she managed to push the fur off of herself and get a good look at the room she was in.
Upon further inspection, Megan decided that calling it a room was a bit too generous. Instead, it appeared to be some kind of cave like structure, carved out of the rock. Wooden beams supported the ceiling and a small fire pit, only embers now, burned in the middle. Looking up, she could see a hole situated above the pit, stretching up to the outside world. She crawled over to get a better look but quickly recoiled as she realized that she could still hear wind howling outside. Instead, she just sat next to the embers, their warmth combatting the cold that seemed to suffuse the rest of the room as her mind began the process of coming to grips with her situation.
She remembered deciding to take the day off to relax at the beach. She had just finished a difficult project for an equally difficult client, and figured that she had earned a one day vacation. She could remember getting dressed, going down with a few good books, stretching out on her towel, and then falling face first into a massive snowdrift. Her brain tried to reconcile that last part for a few moments, before finally deciding on some sort of teleportation, time travel, or a planar shift. Fortunately, she had prepared for this kind of situation, and decided to gather more information before she made any moves.
Megan was, admittedly, kind of a nerd. Actually, if she was being totally honest, she was a huge nerd. Between her job as a computer programmer, her hobby participating in roleplaying games, and the veritable library of fantasy, sci-fi, and scientific books she kept on her shelves, it was fair to classify her as such. And, being a nerd, Megan often fantasized about what would happen if she were to time travel or appear in her favorite books. She had come up with a number of contingency plans for these situations as a result, although admittedly a fair number just involved sleeping with the hottest characters.
All this meant that she was not as freaked out as perhaps a normal human would have been in her situation. Instead, she just pushed the blanked off and tried to stand up. It took her a few times, but eventually her aching muscles relented and she was able to get upright. She stumbled toward a small tunnel leading out of the room. Right before she entered it, she slammed into something moving quickly the other way. She fell backwards and landed hard on her behind, but she was too busy staring up at the creature in front of her.
The front of it was covered in feathers and reminded her of an eagle, although it clearly wasn’t. The head was the wrong shape, for one thing, and the eyes that were currently fixed on her were far too big. The body continued downwards, transitioning from feathers to fur, and as Megan dropped her gaze further she could see that the creature had hooked eagle claws for her front legs and lion paws on the rear. What really drew her attention, though, was the massive wings that were tucked against the creature’s back. Her mind belatedly recognized the creature from countless roleplaying games, stories, and myths that she had read: a gryphon.
The gryphon’s mouth moved and she could hear the same vaguely germanic sounds come out as she had heard the day before. He (she could tell it was a he by his voice) casually grabbed her and started examining her body. He peered closely at her head, arms, and legs, and then lifted her shirt to examine her stomach. After a moment he seemed satisfied. Gripping her left arm tightly with his claws, although not hard enough to draw blood, he pulled her forward out of the room and into the tunnel. Megan stumbled as her sore legs struggled to keep up with the intense pace that he was setting.
As she was being dragged along, Megan tried to figure out what was happening. The gryphon definitely seemed sapient. He had spoken, and besides, he hadn’t just torn her to pieces as soon as he saw her helpless form, as other large predators would have. On the other hand, he didn’t seem to recognize her as being sentient, or if he did he didn’t seem to care. Besides, just because he hadn’t immediately killed her didn’t mean that he wasn’t planning to. Either way, it seemed like the safest option to not let him know of her intelligence until she knew more. Everything she knew about gryphons suggested that they were violent creatures, sapient or not.
Eventually, they left the tunnel and entered into another room, a lot larger than the one she had woken up in. She saw three more gryphons, two males and one that she recognized instantly as female, in various states of repose. The room was reinforced by the same wooden pillars she had seen before, and the gryphons seemed to be stretched out on more of the furs. A wooden door was set in the side of the room, barred by a heavy plank, and there were three more tunnels leading away from the room.
The gryphon who was dragging her said something and the other three looked over at him. The female got up and walked over, her predatory eyes fixated on Megan. Megan wilted under the stare and turned her head away. The female asked the male something, which he quickly answered. The female spoke once more and the male bowed his head as the female walked back to her fur pile. Then he turned as well and started walking again, forcing Megan to follow him down a different tunnel.
She heard the others long before she saw them. Whimpers, shouts, and screeches met her ears, growing louder as they walked forward. The gryphon reached out with a claw and grabbed something from a hook on the wall. Then they entered into the cell.
On one side of the room, Megan saw a large cage, constructed of iron bars hammered from floor to ceiling. Inside it were around twenty humans in various degrees of undress, speckled with filth, and all screeching loudly. The ground had been covered in straw, but it did little to alleviate the smell. On one side, she could see what looked like a pile of sand, that she recognized as a litterbox, but it didn’t seem to be completely effective.
The humans were all yelling and shouting at the gryphon, although they didn’t seem to be forming any kinds of words. The gryphon let it go on for a few moments before letting out a deafening shriek. The humans all quieted and backed away from the bars, fear evident on their faces.
The gryphon said something under his breath, then brought his claw up to a small lock set in one of the bars. He inserted the key that he had snagged and unlocked the lock. A door formed from four of the iron bars and swung open. He shoved her in and then shut the door, which reformed into iron bars.
Megan turned and stared at the bars. They had warped, twisting on their own accord into the door she had seen. First sapient gryphons, then crazy humans, and now magical doors. She started to wonder for the first time what she had gotten into and realized that the shock was wearing off.
The gryphon turned to leave, but he was stopped by a voice crying out at him. “Hey! Let me go! You can’t do this! Let me go!” Megan turned to look at the source of the voice. On the other side of the room, chained to the wall, was a purple pony with a dark blue mane. She tugged at the chain as she yelled, although even from across the room Megan could see it was firmly manacled to the pony’s leg and then set deep into the wall.
The gryphon turned to look at the pony. “Vhat makes you think zhat?” he said in heavily accented English.
“The princesses will stop you!” she shouted back.
The gryphon laughed cruelly. “Ve shall see about zhat, little pony.” His claws clicked against the stone floor as he left so Megan could hear him walk the whole way back, each fading click signalling the departure of her freedom. Across the room, it was clear the mare was having similar thoughts as she slumped down into her own pile of hay.
Megan watched her, trying to figure out what was going on. Clearly, this pony belonged elsewhere, and had been kidnapped (or sold) into some kind of slavery, probably from the nation of the ‘princesses’ she had mentioned. She spoke English as well, which was a bit of a surprise, although it provided a lot of support for Megan’s alternate dimension theory.
Megan was broken from her musings by one of the other humans getting closer to her. She turned to look at him and was surprised by how short he was. Although he seemed to be the tallest of the other humans, he only came up to Megan’s chin. She was only five foot six, so that would place him at around five two, and the rest approaching five feet. That didn’t seem to bother him, though, as he walked toward her and started to sway back and forth, scrunching his mouth up into a harsh scowl. He seemed to almost growl at her.
It took her a moment before she realized that he seemed to be trying to assert dominance. Now that she was closer, she realized that the humans really didn’t seem that human. They didn’t act intelligent, and had behaved more like wild animals than anything else. They didn’t even look entirely like humans, their foreheads broader and their bodies far shorter.
The quasihuman continued to try to intimidate her, his growls getting louder as she stayed unimpressed. Compared to the terror of a gryphon that stood half a head taller than her and was one and a half times that long, this was downright pathetic. He let out a kind of barking sound that caused Megan to laugh outright.
Unfortunately for Megan, this sent the man into a wild craze, causing him to leap at her and try to claw her with his long fingernails. Unfortunately for the man, Megan had taken self defense lessons three years prior at the behest of her parents. As he tried to claw her, she slammed her fist into his gut, then quickly kicked out at his shins. He gasped and doubled over, and she smashed her knee into his face, sending him scurrying back to the others with a hand over his now-bleeding nose. The rest of the quasihumans backed away from her as well.
She heard a gasp from the other side of the room and turned to see the pony staring at her. Megan stared back at her until the other pony looked away, and then she cleared some of the filthy straw aside to sit on the relatively clean stone. She wanted to panic, but kept the impulse tightly under control. If things went well, there would be plenty of time to do that later, but right now it would just stop her from concentrating on what was most important: namely, getting free, getting information and, ultimately, getting home.
She was glad that she hadn’t said anything to the gryphon earlier. It was clear that the gryphons regarded the other humans as nothing more than animals, but the technicolor pony showed that they weren’t above enslaving sentient races either. Chances were it wouldn’t have changed anything if she had told the gryphons, and she would have lost whatever element of surprise she currently had.
The next question was whether to tell the pony. On one hand, there was no guarantee that the pony’s land didn’t enslave humans. On the other hand, Megan knew she needed help, and it didn’t look like any was going to be coming from the gryphons or the other humans. At least the pony (probably) wasn’t a carnivore.
She made a decision.
Author's Note
So... yeah. Another story. I'm notoriously bad about finishing these, but I still get the inspiration, so here it is. Hopefully I won't burn out on this one, and I have a lot more planned than I had for my last.
Anyways, I've always wanted to do a YHaY story, but I never really had time to write one. I still don't, if I'm being totally honest, but I'll make time. Don't expect regular or quick updates, but I will work on this when I have time.
Finally, if anyone is interested in editing, please hit me up with a PM.
Thanks for reading!
“Sorry you had to see that,” Megan said. Her voice sounded a little hoarse, but that wasn’t a huge surprise considering that she had just been screaming in a blizzard.
As she’d been expecting, the other pony’s eyes flew wide open. She turned to look at Megan, who gave her her friendliest smile, although this only seemed to make the mare freak out more.
“I’m Megan, by the way.”
“Red Cross,” the pony said, almost reflexively. She was still staring at Megan in utter shock and confusion. “Are… are you really talking?” she asked.
“Last I checked,” Megan replied with a cheeky grin. It felt good to be able to crack a joke again. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Cross.”
“But… you’re a human! And humans don’t talk!”
“And yet, I am both a human and talking. Ergo, at least one human talks,” she replied.
“No, I mean it’s impossible! Their vocal cords don’t allow them to speak!” she said, her voice rising as she did so.
“We have a saying where I’m from,” Megan told her, “‘If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true.’” She figured it was just as valid for her as it was for the pony. Here she was, chained up in a cell with a bunch of primitive humans and a talking pony, therefore it was impossible that she was in her own time on her own Earth, but it was only highly improbably that she had been transported to another world.
Red Cross took a moment to process this. Eventually, she seemed to reach the same conclusion that Megan had, namely that freaking out needed to be saved for a better time.
“Okay, so you’re a talking human. What are you doing here?” gesturing with her hoof at the surroundings. The chain clanked as she did so, and she winced in pain. Megan could see that the area around the metal was red and raw, looking like the hair and skin had been rubbed off.
“I was hoping you could tell me that,” Megan replied. The pony-- Red Cross, she reminded herself-- was still looking at her with a mix of terror and fear.
“What do you mean?” Red Cross asked. “Where did you come from?”
“Earth,” Megan said simply.
“You mean, from the ground? Did you just spring up, or what?” Red’s terror seemed to lessen slightly as she realized that Megan didn’t seem hostile, although her confusion remained.
“No, I mean the planet Earth, although I don’t suppose I’m even in the right dimension for that to mean anything,” she said. She was ninety nine percent sure it was some kind of dimensional/multiversal travel, although she hadn’t ruled out time travel or pangalactic teleportation. It was possible, she supposed, although the odds of finding intelligent life, much less mythological creatures, was incredibly unlikely, as was them speaking a version of English, although some kind of Babel-fish equivalent might explain that.
“Wait, what are you talking about?” She was jolted back to her reality by Red Cross’s question. She looked back at the pony, and it occurred to her just how ridiculous her situation was. Here she was, holding a casual conversation with a talking pony. It was possible that all of this was just a hallucination or a dream. It felt incredibly real, but then again so do most dreams while you’re in them. Still, unless she received some kind of really damning evidence, it was probably better to assume it wasn’t a dream. She had nothing to lose if it was and everything if it wasn’t.
“You mean that you’re an- an- alien?” The last word squeaked as Red Cross said it, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Megan said to herself, eyebrows furrowing. She had imagined first contact before, of course, but she hadn’t really considered being on the other side. She looked up and saw the pony staring at her in shock, fear once again plastered across her face. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not here to conquer or probe or anything like that.”
Red’s seemed to calm down again. “Then what are you doing here?
“I don’t know,” Megan admitted. “But I intend to find out.”
Red Cross opened her mouth to say something else, but was stopped by the sound of claws clacking against stone. She glanced toward the mouth of the tunnel, then gestured frantically over at Megan, the chain rattling as she tried to bring her hoof up to her lips. She froze, then put her hoof back down and started to lie down on her much cleaner pile of straw, deliberately not looking at Megan.
Megan took her cue to shut up. She stood and stepped toward the wall opposite that of the quasihumans. The sound of the gryphon coming seemed to rile them up, although the Alpha was still dealing with his broken nose. She watched him as he tried to paw at it and winced as each touch made him flinch from pain. The rest of the humans were at the bars, gripping it and making a chittering sound that slowly grew louder. It was like the sound of a swarm of locusts was being played through animal mouths, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Here was another thing that she had never considered in all of her years of fantasy: humans acting like just another animal.
It was clear from Red Cross’s reaction that even if other sapient humans existed, they were far less common than these quasihumans, at least to the point where they weren’t common knowledge among either the gryphons or the ponies and their “princesses”. It was a scary thought, and only grew scarier when she considered all the things that livestock were used for back home. Pets, manual labor, experiments, and perhaps worst of all, food…
“Ve hear noises, little pony,” the gryphon called out, his room taking on an eerie quality as it echoed down the length of the tunnel. “Ze other gryphons, zhey say it eez nothing to vorry about, but I vorry still, ja?” His accent was far thicker than that of the other one, and Megan glanced a risk in Red Cross’s direction, trying to judge the danger. The pony was almost trembling with fear, and Megan gulped. Even the appearance of an impossible creature didn’t create this much fear for the pony.
She had a terrible thought then, and mentally kicked herself for not considering it sooner. She had told the pony because it seemed like the best option, gathering an ally against their mutual oppressors. She had failed to take into account the possibility that Red Cross might tell the gryphons anyway, out of pure fear, or in exchange for greater favor or preferential treatment. She had quite possibly staked her life on an alien creature she had met five minutes earlier, and that terrified Megan more than anything else could. She turned away from the tunnel mouth and crouched down next to the wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. Out of the corner or her eye, she saw him enter the room, the smallest of the four she had seen before, a gryphon with a grey plumage and black body. A flask of some kind was hanging from a talon by a leather strap, and based on his unsteady walk she would guess he was fairly inebriated. Or, as her friends still in college would say, “totally slammed”.
“Zhey tell me, vhat eez to be fear of? Zhey say Ironbeak eez scared of ze humans and ze leettle pony.” His accent was far stronger than that of the other gryphon, and she had no doubt that whatever he was on wasn’t helping. “Zhey don’t know ze truth, though,” he said, leaning in closer toward Red Cross. A claw reached out and almost gently caressed her muzzle, making her flinch back in fear. “Zhey don’t know vhat some hope can do to a prisoner. So I am here to destroy that hope, ja?” He struck her with his claw, a vicious backhand that snapped her head around and left three long lines across her cheek.
“You are not hoping, are you, leetle pony?” He whispered, although in the silence the sound carried easily to her ears. Megan realized that the quasihumans had all been silenced. A quick glance revealed that they had drawn back from the bars and were pressed against the wall opposite, staring in utmost horror at the gryphon. Red Cross seemed to be having a similar reaction, quaking and looking down, to the side, anywhere but at the gryphon.
“You are not screaming and yelling, ja? Not hoping for princess to come save you?” She didn’t look up, and he struck her again, this time slashing her shoulder open with his claws. Four more red lines opened up and began oozing blood. None of the cuts looked very deep, but they did seem extremely painful. “Answer me, leetle pony.” The tone of his voice didn’t change at all, staying a soft, sibilant whisper. “Do you still have hope?”
“...No,” she said, her voice tight with fear and emotion.
“Do you still think anyone at all cares about you? Zat zhey are going to come and save you?”
“No.” A tear fell from one eye. He noticed, and the corners of his beak turned up in a vicous smile.
“Good to hear. Now, vhat ve are going to do is I am going to stand over zhere, and you are going to lie down over here, and if I hear something at all from zhat side of zhey room, you are going to wish zhat you vere dead. Good? Good.”
He stepped away from her and crouched down, eyes fixed on her body. Red Cross shivered and lay down as well, tears now streaming from her eyes. Her whole body shook as she cried, but she didn’t let out a single sound.
Megan watched all of this with baited breath. When it was over, she lay down as well, brushing the filthy hay off the stone as silently as possible before lying down. She felt tears running from her own eyes as well. Tears of fear, of sympathy for the pony that was a sister in chains, and of pity for herself and Red Cross and the other humans. She took her cue from the pony and didn’t allow the gryphon to see or hear her crying.
The only sound that broke the silence was the fear-whimpers of the quasihumans and a quiet, cruel purring that was coming from the gryphon as he watched the crying pony with a twisted grin plastered on his beak.
Before long, her exhaustion caught up to her. She hadn’t rested as long as she would have liked, and she got the feeling that the effects of her hypothermia had yet to run their entire course. After a few moments of struggling to keep her eyes open, she nodded off.
Author's Note
Hey, next chapter. Let me know if you guys like this. I'm trying something a bit different here, so let me know what works and what doesn't. Thanks!
