Falling was the last thing Twilight could remember. Down and down she went, but she did not tumble through the air. She was falling to her knees, crashing to the cold tiles beneath. She struggled to lift her head. When she did, the eyes that met hers were empty, cold, searching. Why are those eyes so familiar? Why did it hurt so much to see that face?

Twilight’s vision grew grey around the edges. Only the face remained. It blurred as if seen through thick glass and was gone.

The world was dark and Twilight was falling again.

For well over twenty minutes, Twilight Sparkle did little more than lay on her side and wish her head felt more like a head and less like a walnut in a slowly tightening vice. She knew it was at least twenty minutes because each throb of pain within her skull pulsed a little over once per second and she had stopped counting at one thousand, two hundred twelve. She had not opened her eyes yet, afraid that the light that tinted her vision bright red behind her eyelids would only serve to worsen the pain that seemed to split her skull in twain. Still, being a practical mare, she knew she must get her bearings and cracked one crusted eyelid open just long enough to regret it. The ray of sunlight that flooded her vision did indeed refresh the intensity of her headache, but at the same time, she saw with relief that it was only a narrow beam of light pooling around her face and she gingerly rolled her head to her right, into the shade. Twilight moaned and groggily opened both lavender eyes to see a shadowy canopy of leaves several yards above her. For the first time since becoming conscious, she noticed the pleasant breeze, the gentle rustle of leaves and grass, and a fragrant scent that wafted in on the cool air currents. Long ago, she had learned that the best way to deal with large amounts of physical pain was to embrace it, allow the sensation to encompass one’s entire being so that there was nothing left to contrast the unpleasantness, thereby nullifying it until one felt they could better handle it or the pain itself faded. Having focused on the discomfort for so long, there had been no room in Twilight’s mind to sense the world around her and so the picturesque, peaceful forest she now found herself in was a pleasant surprise, albeit still rather alarming.

She could not recall how she had come to be laying in a small clearing in a strange part of Equestria or even why her head felt like the victim of a steam hammer. She sat up and took in the surprisingly mundane surroundings, yet there was something peculiar about them she could not quite place. Towering oak trees with gnarled roots and twisting branches surrounded her like a crowd approaching something fascinating. She lay on a pale patch of dirt that was slowly being claimed by the surrounding grass. Or perhaps it was the other way around? Above her, leaves occasionally fell from the verdant jumble of branches and leaves as the mass was jostled by the stronger winds above the canopy. As Twilight stared, she observed what she assumed to be a curious optical illusion; upon tracing the outlines of any branch, she could not find where they ended. Leaves sprouted from thin twigs, but even those seemed to continue splitting and curling over and over and over and over and—

“Ye’ll go mad, ye know?”

Twilight whipped her head in the direction of the voice and immediately regretted it as the headache reminded her it had not vacated her skull just yet and it did not take kindly to sudden moves, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut as she winced. The slight whimper she heard then had an odd doubled property and she soon realized both she and whomever had just spoken had made almost identical noises, simultaneously. When she opened her eyes for the second time, she saw something she would later describe to herself as ‘Flutter-bait’.

Crouched behind a particularly thick clump of grass was an impeccably-dressed charcoal colored rabbit with pink eyes. His smart blue blazer was worn over a simple white button-up shirt and similarly blue tie. The lapel bore a small silver pin, but Twilight could not make out the shape through the combined haze of grogginess and cranial anguish, not to mention the crust she had still not rubbed from her eyes. She could make out his hat, however, a tiny, rain cloud grey jeff cap perched neatly upon his head with his upright ears poking up through the sides. She thought this curious until she realized it would probably be difficult for a rabbit to wear a hat if their ears kept knocking it off rather than helping to hold it in place. Effective lagomorph clothing designs aside, Twilight marvelled at the sight of the animal dressed in such a formal manner and peering at her with eyes so full of intelligence. Had this really been the creature that spoke?

“H-hello?” She croaked. The rabbit’s ears twitched and he stepped some inches out from behind the green curtain, eyes growing impossibly wider.

“Did ye jus’ talk?” The rabbit stepped fully into the clearing, though he remained a good distance from Twilight. He leaned forward and studied the mare from every angle he could, standing on his toes and leaning side to side as his eyes raked her visage.

“Well, yes, but you spoke to me first, didn’t you?” She was already beginning to feel awkward as the rabbit’s eyes trailed over her body from her dark blue mane and tail, to her lavender fur, to the bright purple six-pointed starburst cutie mark that adorned her flanks. Finally, his eyes settled on her horn and a look of understanding followed by mild disappointment seemed to cross his features.

“Oh yes, but Ah was just runnin’ my mouth, like ye do when ye talk to a tove because ain’t no one else ‘round to jabber at.” The rabbit replied. Twilight did not know what a tove was, but she could now hear an unmistakable Scoltish brogue on his tongue. She began to wonder if she was hallucinating. She had certainly never heard of talking, well-dressed rabbits from Scoltland before. The rabbit piped up again, “Ye’re a funny-lookin’ unicorn. What are ye doin’ layin’ about here?”

Ignoring the rude remark, she flexed her extremely stiff limbs, preparing to stand. She was grateful to find they were not at all sore, as she had suspected. Grunting with the effort of forcing her legs to work, she answered the rabbit’s question in halting breaths, “I—ah—don’t know, I—hng—woke up like—ngah—like this.” She stood on four hooves and flexed each limb, hearing an occasional pop from her bones. Her head still throbbed with each beat of her heart and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain reflexively.

“Are ye...okay? Ye look like you tried to dance with a jabberwock.” He chuckled lightly.

“What’s a jabberwock?” Twilight asked and cracked an eye open to see the rabbit was now looking at her worriedly.

“Oh yes, ye need some help, lass.” He said, his tone suddenly grave. “Ye’d better come with me.”

Twilight considered the rabbit again, checking his appearance and finding nothing had changed since she first looked upon him. This was a sign she was likely not dreaming nor hallucinating the being. She could still not rule out that possibility, but as she glanced about the forest once more, she remembered she did not have a clue where she was. If the rabbit lead her directly to a road or building, she could at least trust he was somehow real despite the fantastic nature of his appearance. Maybe the rabbit is some sort of golem or familiar, Twilight thought to herself. She had often heard of such fanciful forms being used by some of the more eccentric mages in Canterlot in the construction of magical servants.

“Thank you, sir. Where to, though?”

“Ah was jus’ headin’ to my friend’s place. His name is Bill and he might have somethin’ to help.” The rabbit added, “He’s no doctor, mind ye, but he knows a few things about makin’ one right from bein’ wrong.”

Twilight’s feelings toward receiving help from this ‘Bill’ were dubious at best, but at the moment she knew her other options were limited. Limited, specifically, to wandering off into the forest blindly and becoming the victim of any predators that might come out once it got dark.

“A-Alright. Lead the way, Mister…?” She paused to give him a chance to answer.

“Ach! I seem to have lost my manners!” The rabbit said as he brought a paw to his forehead. For a moment, he patted his pockets as if looking for something and Twilight giggled at the joke until he continued to pat himself down, pawing at the insides of his blazer and reaching under his hat. She then gave him a quizzical look and he returned it with a sheepish smile. “Must have dropped them on the trail, somewhere. Anyway, the name’s Blake. Blake Rabbit, no relation.”

“No relation to who…?” Twilight asked, doing her best to remember any famous ponies with the last name Rabbit.

“We’d better hurry.” Blake said and turned from the clearing, gesturing over his shoulder for her to follow as he hopped along.

Twilight rolled her eyes and began trotting to catch up. This day was already beginning to get more and more curious.

Author's Note

And we're off! I know this was a bit short, but chapters should come pretty frequently.

EDIT: Added a little something to the beginning of this chapter to make things more interesting.