A New Everything On Life

BLANK SPACE AND NOTHINGNESS was all I could perceive. An inky blackness that just filled my mind to the brim, pushing out all other cognitive thought and reason. The blackness was soothing and terrifying at the same time. It was calm, yet raging. Smooth, yet rough. It was everything and nothing. All meaning meant nothing in this void. While my brain knew not of what it could be processing, my very soul could, and it brought chills with its revelation. I could feel an outline, an outline of my body. It was cold. So very cold. My fingers burned and my feet ached, my face stung and my chest tried to shiver, shutter, shake and move.

This chill began to replace all things in this black emptiness, and it felt like an eternity of torture. My brain was catching up with what my body already knew, and it began to scream at my limbs to start moving once more, at my heart to start pumping again, to shake off this terrible cold. But in death, nothing can be done. So with body and mind afloat within the darkness that was what I presumed was the afterlife, all actions halted for a while.

Time within the void was a non-existent notion. I could have been floating along for seconds, for minutes, hours, days, years, and I would not be able to tell how long I was there. Though I felt my body, I could not see it. The cold blackness enveloped all of my sight. With nothing to do, what was left of my mind began operating on autopilot.

Suddenly, a dot of white opened up in the distance. A single bright dot, nearly blinding in the eerie void. It began to grow in size at it floated closer to my soul, taking shapes as it did. My disembodied mind easily recognized these shapes; a triangle, a hexagon, an octagon, a circle, then it blinked shut. But only for what must have been a moment, for it reopened into a rectangular form. Colors zipped by and mixed within the box. Bright pinks and violets, vivid blues and greens, unreal oranges and reds, all the colors of the visible spectrum muddled together in an organized chaos. Until...

It began to form a picture... Of me.

My memory, my last memory of when I was still alive. It was me, looking in a mirror in the restroom of my town's Denny's. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, the ones my friend Beatrice told me to get. They were three sizes too big, but I wore a belt and hemmed up the legs a bit. They were much more comfortable than regular pants. There was a hole purposely made in the blue fabric in the right knee, and another purposeful partial hole on the front of my left upper leg, showing off the frazzled white threads of the underlining. My white Nike sneakers, beautifully tied in graceful butterfly knots, covered my black sock-covered feet. The front of my gray hoodie was unzipped, cutting the cartoonish skull and crossbones that adorned the front of it in half and allowing me to see a slice of the black tank top underneath. Beatrice and Sandy said that black looked good on anyone, and that a tight shirt was appealing. I didn't like it because you could see the straps of my bra on my shoulders when I wore it. She would suggest that I don't wear one, but every time I would always insist. My girls may have just qualified for a c-cup, but that didn't mean that a tight-fitting tank top gave me the support I needed.

My face... It looked so different than I could have ever remembered. It was like looking at myself for the first time. My cute shallow jawline led my sight up to my smallish nose. Underneath it was a set of thin lips that were currently split in a smile. I could see my white teeth shine in the reflection, except where that piece of parsley was stuck, and I tried to remove it with a clean fingernail. My cheeks had a faint peppering of freckles, though the left half of my face was covered in a wave of shoulder-length golden brown hair that shined in the mirrors reflection. The one eye I could see was a bright and colorful one, the light brown centering the pupil gave way to a mottled green in a hazel-like appearance. It almost looked like gold.

Once my former self was satisfied with her, my, our teeth, we made our way to the exit. I stopped and paid my bill, stopping a bit longer than anyone really should have, but the current clerk was a friend from school. Janet, the cute one of my circle. Head full of blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a catching smile with a matching voice that just raked in tips. We chatted a bit about school junk, homework, class, Kevin. Kevin moved to our not so little townish city of Warren, Michigan about two years ago. He was cute, smart, not really much of a jock, but still strong enough to take care of himself. He was one of those guys you read about in books or see in movies that was every girl's dream guy. He was instantly popular, and even after two years, still single.

Janet never stopped gushing about how cute Kevin was. The dimples he got when he smiled, his spikey dirty blond hair on top of that super pale face of his, the little scar he had on the edge of his left eyebrow that was somehow lighter than his already white skin, she even said his braces were cute. It was a handful to really get anything out of Janet that wasn't Kevin related. Nearly every conversation ended with her staring off into space, mumbling about how someday, she would be Mrs. Mac Loughlin. Kevin was Irish. She was New Jerseyian. I didn't see it happening.

After my fill of 'Kevin talk,' I bid Janet goodbye, fumbled my wallet, retrieved it in an embarrassed hurry, and left the restaurant. The reason why I had even gone to the wonderful pancake house popped into the back of my mind. I had just been handed back the score of my SAT test from school earlier that day. I scored a ninety-seven percent accuracy rating. Nearly perfect, already within the top ten at the school, and I was number two! Who was number one? Kevin Mac Loughlin. Figures, but still, second place among a school of thirteen hundred strong!

A surge of happiness covered my being as I remembered that wondrous time, and some of the happiness from my memory seeped over to me. I watched on as my former self began to walk home in the dreary overcast afternoon. I finally zipped up my hoodie and flipped up my hood to cover myself from the chilly winds that constantly blew in from over the great lakes. It was a short walk from Denny's to my house. My hand extracted itself from my pockets of my hoodie to reach into the front left pocket of my jeans. My key ring jingled as I pulled it out, and I casually flipped through the dozen keys on the small metal ring.

I heard my voice play over through my memory, and it just... sounded so odd in the void, being the only source of audio. "Hm, garage... bike lock... safe... other safe... Beatrice's house... Fucking come on... There you are, you little bastard." I finally jammed the right key into the lock and turned the knob. At the same time, my phone alerted me through a catchy tune and a vibrating left ass cheek that I had a new text message to read. I watched myself reach back and pull my phone out of my rear left pocket and checked out the scraggly message Sandy had sent me.

~PARTY 2NITE @ BEA'S PLACE! U IN?~ I never got to reply as I opened the door and stepped into a white hole of nothing.

The memory window flicked and faded, leaving me to float alone within the black emptiness once again. Why had it shown itself to me? I'll never know, but what I did know is that seeing my former life filled me with emotions. Happiness turned bitter and formed a more prominent feeling; sadness. There was nothing here in this void for me. In death, I was lost to drift alone. Forever.

After what could have been eons, a stir in the void shifted my attention. The darkness around me began to shimmer, then turn to a very, very dark blue. This new color filled the entire space of whatever purgatory this was, and left my floating within a sea of that one single color. All the sadness I felt about seeing my life began to melt away, and a new feeling replaced it. Security.

Whatever was happening, I felt safe. I felt better. The cold that was stinging my non-existent body faded to nothing. This color was so safe. If I was doomed to float alone through the blank slate of the afterlife like this... I suppose I could be content with this. The feeling of being safe, like when my mother would hug me after a hard day of work. I could almost feel her comforting grasp around me. I could almost hear her whisper into my ear.

"...You are safe now."

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~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

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THE VERY FIRST THING that entered my mind was uncomfortableness. A rumbling deep within my body, one that nearly rattled my bones and shook my brain. My head threatened to split as everything turned on at once. My body felt fabric, soft fabric, all over. My hearing picked up a soft, calm, rhythmic beeping. My nose caught scent of something familiar, something like... snapdragons. A memory of those unique and beautiful orange flowers popped into my mind as I inhaled deeply, letting the wonderful smell calm my body and take the pain away.

I forced my eyes to open a sliver, and I was greeted by dim lighting. I looked to my left and saw my arm on top of the pale green blanket that covered me. An IV tube was stuck into the crook of my elbow, the line leading up to a bag of fluids that dangled from a low-set pole. A plastic cuff was around my wrist, and the wires that stuck out from the side of it led up to a machine. The machine that was beeping at me. A heartrate monitor. I glanced at it long enough to see my heartrate was sitting at a normal seventy-four beats per minute.

I'm in a hospital? What happened? My head turned to the right, and my heartrate started to climb. Beside me was a doctor, I think. He was wearing a white overcoat over a brown tee shirt and blue gloves on his hands. He was idly patting his knees, which were cloaked in a pair of black jeans. A stethoscope around his neck told me he should be a doctor. Black hair sprouted from his head, and his lip, giving him a thin moustache that crawled up the side of his face into his sideburns. His green eyes were locked onto his brown shoes, at least until he spotted me staring at him. He offered me a smile, showing off the gap in his teeth where he was missing his front most right upper tooth. All in all, I couldn't help but think one thing; Handsome.

"Well, well, well, Good morning sleepy head," he said in a calm, soothing voice. Not even a second later, he reached down beside him and brought up a small plastic pail. It was white with a thin, flimsy red handle. Leaning forward, the doctor put the pail on the edge of my bed. "Be a dear and hold onto that for me, would you?"

I nodded slowly, reaching out with my right arm and grabbing the pail. I pulled it closer, basically snuggling it in my armpit, as I tried to form words. The doctor, seeing me struggle to do so, held up his hands.

"Nonono, don't try and talk. Trust me." He stood from his seat and stepped over to me. "Just give it a few minutes." He gave me a reassuring smile, trying to be as calm as possible. I suppose it's normal, him being a person of medical staff, to try and keep me, a patient, calm and collected.

So, I heeded his words and held my tongue for the time being. Seconds ticked by, and he continued to stand at my side, ready for anything that may happen. I began to wonder why he was still there, instead of sitting back in his chair. Maybe he was happy to see me awake? Maybe he was checking me over to see if there was anything wrong? Maybe he was—

I felt my esophagus shorten and scrunch up, pulling my stomach up with it. My first gag clicked with my brain, and it told me to put my face in the bucket, which I did. As soon as I had my body curled over the pail, I proceeded to empty the contents of my gut into the plastic bucket. I felt the doctor pull my hair back with one hand and pat the back of my neck with the other as I heaved a second time, expelling more of my half-digested Denny's dinner special. I arched again as more came flowing out, this time trying to gasp as I lost my breathe with the last one. A few seconds past before I heaved one more time, this time nothing coming out.

I just laid there, my chin resting on the edge of the bucket as bile dripped from my lips into the puddle mere inches from my nose. The doctor continued to pat my neck and back in a soothing manner as I breathed heavily from the aftermath of my episode.

"There, there," he said. "It's all over now." He gave me a few more pats before he just held his gloved hand there on my neck, the cool, sticky feeling of the rubber glove ebbing away at the discomfort I was feeling. I brought my face away from the bucket, and the doctor reached back. When his hand returned, I saw a small collection of napkins between his fingers. "Here, these should help. Just dump them in the bucket when you're done."

I nodded again, taking the napkins from him and wiping my face. Once I got everything, I dropped the crumbled papers into the pail with my dinner and shoved myself into a sitting position, clenching my eyes as I did. I felt the cool air waft over me as the blanket dropped from my shoulders and piled around my waist.

"Feel better?" the doctor asked me. I didn't look at him again, but I nodded once more. "Good to hear. We all know what it feels like to go through that, and it isn't pleasant."

"Where... am I?" I managed to croak. Speaking hurt my throat, and I tasted was acidic and terrible.

"You are in the Canterlot Medical Wing," the doctor stated. "You've just been in an accident. Don't worry, you're fine, thankfully."

"What... ugh..."

"What kind of accident?" the doctor finished for me. I gave a simple hum as an answer. "...Well, let's just say that you were in a traveling accident." I cracked my eyes open and looked over at him.

"...Like... I was hit by a car?" He shrugged.

"Do you feel like you were?"

"...Kinda." I let my head drop again, staring into the pile of blanket surrounding my midsection. My bare midsection. I felt my eyebrows climb as my eyes drifted higher up my own belly until I caught sight of something a bit... disturbing. My left arm snaked down to my legs, trying to feel something that wasn't blanket. A surge of energy rushed through my body, making me feel a bit more normal. I glared over at the doctor as I covered my chest with my right arm. "Why am I naked!?" I managed to yell at him. The sudden change in volume surprised the man, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"You're clothes needed to be washed. When we arrive here, all clothing is riddled with whatever was nearby. Yours were slathered in syrup and paper pulp." He gestured to the bed I was laying in. "Before anything else, your clothes are clean now, and are waiting for you in a bag on the left side of your bedside."

"Aren't I... ugh..." I tried to ask him something, but my stomach threatened to flip again. The doctor, however, was prepared for this. He reached down beside him and pulled up a small plate with a few items. "...What's that?" I asked him.

"Ginger root, banana paste, and a few peppermint leaves." He placed the plate of unusual food items on the edge of my bed, right beside my bucket of sick. "Eat them. They'll help with the nausea."

There was only about a mouthful total present on the plate, so... I scooped the whole thing up with my left hand and dumped it into my mouth. My energy was already returning, and I felt like, even though I was a bit queasy, I had just woke refreshed from a nap. I chewed thoroughly, trying to choke down the distinct taste of ginger and mint. Once my small snack was finished, I motioned to the doctor with my free hand.

"...What's your name?" I asked him. He game me another smile.

"My name is Dean Carton. I'm the local nurse."

"You're a nurse? I thought your were the doctor." He chuckled.

"No, just a nurse. I was training up when I arrived here like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah..." Dean trailed off as he looked towards the door leading out of the room. "...But I make due with what I've got here. I was the third to arrive here in Canterlot about two years back. You are number twenty-four."

"...Are there any doctor's here?" I asked him, not trying to be mean, but I kind of wanted a real professional here. Dean nodded at me.

"Yes, there are, but they don't know much about human physiology."

"...What?"

"And comes the hardest part of this job," Dean mumbles. "How do you feel now?"

"Um, better? I guess."

"Good. Do you think you can walk?" The question caught me off guard, but I nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. Why?" Dean just stood up.

"Let's get you dressed. This will go a lot more smoothly if we start moving."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him, concern beginning to knot my now soothed gullet. Dean rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved hand, then decided to take them off. The rubbery snap of the gloves pulling away from his flesh made me cringe both times, but he ignored it and rubbed his neck again.

"When I start explaining, I'll be telling you a lot of things you don't want to hear, and even more things you won't believe. If we walk and talk, I can show you, which would make things easier." He looked up at my questioning face, and sighed again. "Look, I know how this must sound, but it's all for the best. I've done this about a dozen times now."

"...Okay then."

With my agreement now out in the open, Dean walked over to my left side and began his work. He slowly and carefully unhooked my wrist from the heartrate monitor, which flat lined at the absence of my skin, then he quickly turned it off. Dean slid his hand up my arm to my IV feed, and peeled back the medical tape that kept it in place. With the adhesive now gone, Dean, with utmost care, proceeded to slide the needle out of my vein. As soon as he did, a wad of cotton was placed on the small hole, and he applied some new tape-like gauze to secure the cotton ball. Dean gave me a smile as he finished wrapping my arm.

"Can I get your name?" he asked me in a soft tone. I felt myself relax at his voice.

"...Jennifer. Jennifer Hawkins. But most people just call me Jenny." He nodded again as he took my name into his mind.

"Okay Jenny, it's nice to meet you." I felt my snarky side start to surface, and couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the naked girls you meet." Dean, however, simply coughed into his hand and stood up.

"Yes, well, that has been the case with the four others I've helped." Dean bent over and picked up a small brown paper bag and set it between my legs. "Here, let's get you dressed."

"I can dress myself," I said as I grabbed the bag while trying to keep myself covered. I reached into the back and dug around a bit before I pulled out my black tank top. I dug a bit more and found my gray bra inside too, tangled with my white plastic belt. After trying to untangle them with one hand, I glanced up at Dean, who was idly staring at his shoes with his head turned away. "...Can I have a bit of privacy?" I said loud enough to break him from whatever stupor he was in.

"I'll give you a minute," he said rather quickly as he made his way to the door. Dean exited the room, leaving me alone with my clothes.

Finally in the clear, I let my right arm drop from my chest and join my left in untangling my garments. I finally untangled my bra and began to put it on, being careful of my new bandaging. However, a spike of pain jolted through my upper back when I tried to reach back and hook my bra in place. I groaned as I slipped my tank top over it. I'll figure it out later.

I lifted the bag and threw the rest of the blanket off of my lower body. Wasn't I supposed to be in some sort of gown? Even one like on House where it just ties shut at the back? But no, I was stark naked from the waist down now, and truthfully, I didn't care for the fact that Dean had, most likely, seen everything I had to offer. I pulled my legs over the edge of the bed and straightened up. The feeling of vertigo quickly passed as I looked at the floor, and I dug into the bag again to find another article of clothing. And I did.

My hand retreated with my pair of gray panties in tow. A special cute pair I had picked up for the hell of it. They were a simple gray, but on the right side of the waistband, right on my hip, was a white skull with a pink bow resting on top. I looped my legs through the holes and hiked them up just as Dean opened the door and poked his head in.

"Jesus, I didn't think you really meant 'one minute!'" I practically yelled at him as I pulled my underwear up to their respective place.

"Sorry about that," was all Dean said.

"...Whatever," I grumbled. "I need a favor, anyway."

"What is it?" I turned my back on him, but looked over my shoulder.

"...Can you help me hook my bra?"

"Sure."

Dean made his way over to my side again, and placed a clipboard down on my bed. Wonder why he picked that up outside instead of having it in here in the first place... Anyway, I turned my back to Dean and rolled up my shirt. He made quick work of hooking the back of my support piece together. I dressed quickly, well, as quickly as I could while I tried to snake a plastic belt through all of the loops of my jeans. With Dean's help, I stood to finish pulling up my pants and locking them in place.

I turned my face back to the back to start digging for my socks when I saw a familiar glint of purple plastic. I pulled out my phone, somewhat happy that I still had it, and as I did, I saw that it was tangled in the mess of wires that I called my earphones. I gave another soft yank and my black iPod popped into view. But I soon grew annoyed as my attempts to turn it on failed. Dead battery. Same with my phone.

"Yeah, we all get that," Dean said nonchalantly. "There's no signal here, either, so all that is now is a clock," he said as he motioned to my phone. Ignoring him, I slid it into my back pocket with my iPod, saying to myself that I'd untangle my earphones later, and slipped my socks on, followed by my shoes, which were still tied. After a few seconds of maneuvering, I had slipped them over my feet and slapped them down on the tiled floor with a satisfying thwack! "I know I said we should start walking," Dean started, making me look at him, "but we need to do something first."

He picked up his clipboard and pulled a pencil out of one of the pockets of his overcoat. He also pulled out a small black and white plastic thing with a cone at the end of it. He looked at me with pleading eyes, and it clicked with me after a second. I gave him a nod of my head.

"Okay then," he said as he closed the distance between us. Dean held my chin still with one hand as he looked into my left ear with his device. After a few seconds, he switched sides. Dean nodded to himself, wrote something down on the clipboard, then sat on the bed with me.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your knowledge, okay?"

"Yeah, go for it."

"Okay... Let's see..." Dean scanned over his clipboard before looking back at me. "Let me confirm. You are Jennifer Hawkins, correct? Is this how you spell your name?" I looked over his writing, and gave him a nod. "Good. Do you have any allergies?" I put my finger to my chin as I thought.

"...Kinda. I swell pretty badly if I get stung by bugs. Bees and spiders, and that." Dean scribbled on his paper as he recorded my info.

"...What about food?"

"No, all clear there."

"Medication?"

"Don't think so."

"Do you require any type of physical aid, such as glasses or a hearing aid?"

"No, I don't."

"Do you have any sort of disease?"

"What, like AIDS?" My question forced Dean's eyebrows to arch, but he nodded. "...No, clean bill of health... before all this, I mean."

"Any special conditions or disorders? Diabetes, muscle arrhythmia, heavy leg syndrome?"

"Uh-uh, no."

Do you have any physical disabilities?"

"No."

"Any mental disabilities?"

"No, I don't think so."

"I need you to touch your thumb with each of your fingers, one at a time." This got me to cock my head.

"What?" Dean gestured to me with the tip of his pencil.

"When you arrived here, your body was put through a bit of stress. I need you to do this to show me that your motor skills haven't been affected." Nodding to show my understanding, I did as he asked. Dean then had me rotate my wrists and ankles, bend my knees and elbows, ex cetera.

"...If you needed me to do this, why were you going to have me walk out of here?" I asked him after all the touching was done.

"I kinda forgot," Dean admitted. "It's been a while since we've had a new addition. Seven months, actually." Before I could ask him another question, he did it to me. "And before you ask, you were only unconscious for about two hours. Okay, moving on. Do you know your blood type?"

"Two hours?" I repeated, ignoring his question. "What time is it?"

"It's about eight pm. Why?" I just stared at him for a second before shaking my head to clear my thoughts. "...Anyways, blood type?"

I didn't move for a second, mainly because the question caught me off guard. Wasn't he supposed to know this stuff since I was his patient? Slowly, I reached back into the bag and withdrew my hoodie. My hand slid into the pocket and pulled out my wallet. It was a simple little thing, a black polyester thing that folded in two. I flipped it open, grabbed my blood donor's card, and read it aloud.

"Blood type O negative."

"Good." He scribbled down the last of what he needed. "Okay, I think we should get going."

"Where are we going?" I asked him as he helped pull me to my feet. Another small wave of vertigo washed over me as I stood, causing me to stumble. Dean instantly caught me, though it was unneeded.

"Well, since you are alert, it's best you meet the rest of the group sooner rather than later. Being around others in a similar situation will help soften the blow."

"What blow?"

"New friends in a new place. They'll try to be friendly to help you. I'll tell you as we walk." With that, he hooked his arm around my own and led me to the door.

I finished slipping on my hoodie as he closed the door, but my zipper skipped over a tooth, causing it to get stuck. I swiftly yanked it down and fixed it, and turned around to see Dean a few feet away talking to someone. Who he was talking to, I don't know; they were hidden behind the corner Dean stood in front of. He nodded and bent over, way over, to shake his client's hand.

"Thanks for letting me know," Dean said. "But remember, Jennifer is top priority. Make sure Celestia knows she's awake."

"Understood, Sir Carton." Fading footsteps let me know Dean's friend had left. He must have been wearing tap dancing shoes or something, because his footprints clacked in a decently loud way. Dean made his way back to me and hooked his arm around my own once more, then proceeded to lead me down the hall.

"Now, I'm going to be telling you a few things as we walk," he said calmly. "What I'm about to say may sound like a joke, or a prank, like most have thought when we went through this, but I assure you that it isn't. I will tell you things that will, most likely, cause you alarm, become fearful, sad, and or angry. But I want you to listen to me nonetheless and hold your questions and actions until I am done, okay?" The way he was presenting his little pre-speech made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but I gave him a firm nod.

"I understand." He nodded back, keeping his eyes forward.

"Okay..." Dean held his breath as we walked for a time. After around a dozen steps, he exhaled and took in a new lungful of air. "...Have you ever heard of the Multiverse theory?" I cocked my head at him, and ignored one of his rules.

"The theory that for every action we take, there is another universe somewhere alone the timeline or space-time continuum in which it branches off into it's own little world?" My question caused dean to look at me for a second, before shrugging.

"Eh, yes and no. Basically, the theory that there is an infinite number of alternate worlds, dimensions, and possibilities all played by differing factors in said universe." Dean gestured to the ground before us as we kept moving. "This is one of those different worlds." I opened my mouth, but Dean cut me off. "I know what you're going to say. I'm crazy, that's not possible, what kind of joke are you playing, where am I really. Am I right?"

We actually stopped walking as I tried to think of a response. Dean rolled his weight around on the balls of his heels as he waited for me to say something. Eventually, I just crossed my arms under my breasts and nodded.

"Yeah, kinda." Dean gave me a pat on my back as he pulled me forward again, getting me started on walking again.

"I know, it sounds crazy, but just hear me out." Once again, he gestured to the floor below us. "This is Canterlot Castle, basically the capital building in the capital city in Equestria, as it houses the rulers of the continent. Please hold your questions until I am finished." I huffed as Dean shot me down again. "Now," he continued, "this is where it gets really weird.

"We are on a planet named Equus. That's spelled E-Q-U-U-S, two U's. It's a similar planet to Earth, able to sustain life of all kinds. However, it is much smaller. The sentient population of Equus is roughly around one point three billion. And unlike our planet, the surface of the planet is an equal fifty-fifty split between water and land. There is also an abundance of a new spectral element, commonly referred to as 'magic,' in every living being, plant, even the ground and air."

"Magic?" I repeated.

"Yes, magic." Dean waved his free hand around. "I honestly have no idea how it works, but after a while, even we humans can gain special abilities after a prolonged exposure." Dean leaned his face in close to mine. "I warn you right here, right now. When we meet the other humans that live here, don't be surprised is you see levitating objects around them."

"What?"

"Moving on," Dean aid rather quickly as he pulled me down a different corridor. This one must have been around the edge of the 'castle' because windows dotted the wall. A lot were decorated with red curtains with gold trim, and a few were glowing. I mean actually glowing, like, there was a visible aura next to the glass. Dean saw me staring at the windows as we passed one, my rubbernecking making it very clear.

"Ah, yes. There is magic in play firsthand. These windows are enchanted." I decided to just pay along instead of arguing with Dean.

"...What are they enchanted for?"

"So they can't be shattered or broken."

"Why?"

"Our protection." Dean's voice held a tone that told me I wouldn't be getting much more info on that, yet. "There was an incident a few weeks before you showed up. Two, actually." Okay, maybe a bit of info. "Security has been hyped up, so when we reach the end of this hall and meet the others—"

"They'll try and be super friendly?" He nodded at my answer.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind that we've taken the long way," Dean said, nearly apologetically. "I need to explain this a bit more clearly."

For the next half hour or so, Dean spoke to me like I was a kid at summer camp, letting me know in a super cheery voice how my new living arrangements would be. Apparently, all new arrivals are paired with a 'buddy' of sorts, someone to talk to and listen to as well. Partnering up like that, Dean explained, helped us cope with the situation at hand. He then began laying out the castle grounds, basically. The west wing was now dedicated to us; we had a dining hall all to ourselves, a section of the bedchambers, and access to the gardens. Well, technically we had access to most of the castle, but whatever. Once we Dean and I would enter the dining hall, which he informed me had been turned into a bit of a recreation center, I would officially meet the others like me, spend an hour with them to get to know the group, then I would be escorted to my new bedroom where I would meet my buddy.

"—and once everything is set up, we'll all sit down and talk about the future," Dean finished, his long explanation of what may or may not happen while I would be staying here. He looked forward again and smiled. "Well, looks like we're here."

I tore my eyes off of the side of Dean's face and followed his gaze. Before us stood a tall set of dark wooden doors, intricately carved with shapes of all sorts. The doors must have been at least ten feet tall, and with me being five foot five, made me feel pretty insignificant. Dean slowly reached for one of the golden handles and pulls it open, ushering me inside.

The initial sight of the room's interior had me frozen for a moment. It was large, very so, like thirty by fifty feet, and the ceiling hung waaaaaayy up there. A few chandeliers hung from the ceiling to serve as light fixtures. Just a few feet away from me, near the wall of the room, sat three people in large beanbags. Two of them, both men, held gaming controllers in their hands, and were furiously tapping away to make their gun-totting soldier selves on the large television before them move to their will. The third, a young woman about my age (I'll be eighteen in two months) sat with her feet up high on the table with the TV, just watching them with a smirk. Two other young men on the opposite side of the room, with another smaller television, were watching an animated movie. Something about a blue germ and some kind of pill fighting viruses in some dude's body, trying to keep him alive. And even further down the room, near the large table that was covered in dishes and food scrapes, sat the front half of a large orange truck. I could see an older dark-skinned female hunched over in overalls, and only overalls, twerking her wrench on the motor.

But what REALLY fried my brain was the large horse sitting behind the two guys watching that weird movie. It was, like, tall. Real tall. Sitting down as it was, it could have been seven feet easy. A pristine white coat covered its body, and a pastel-colored rainbow mane flowed from its neck, and I literally mean flowed, like there was some sort of breeze. The same with its tail. A strange brand of sorts showed itself on its hindquarters; a large ornate orangish-yellow sun which stood out against the sea of white. A golden tiara sat on top of the horse's head, and it wore similar jewelry like a collar and hoof guards.

The majestic creature and I locked eyes, and I just couldn't help but notice how large its eyes were compared to the rest of its head. And they were so bright, a deep magenta... And then it smiled at me. It rose to its feet and made its way over to me and Dean within four strides. Dean gave a smile and reached forward, and a bit upward, patting the neck of the creature. I know horses were big, but this one just seemed so much bigger up close, though I was wrong about its height before. It was nearly a foot taller than me, so closer to six-in-a-half rather than seven.

"Nice to see you again, Celestia," Dean said ever-so-casually. The horse nodded at him. Seeing it do this, I caught sight of a very large detail I seemed to have failed at seeing before; a long, slender, sharp-looking spiraling horn protruding from its forehead. I couldn't help but looked it over again, and, much to my amazement, a pair of wings sat closely folded to the sides of its body.

"Likewise, Dean." I think my brain may have short-circuited. Did it talk!? "And you must be Jennifer," the equine, Celestia, continued as she gestured to me with a golden-clad hoof. "It is such a relief to see you are unharmed." Her smile was kept small, but the warmth behind it was immense. "I am Princess Celestia. Welcome to Equestria."