Nighttide Star [Rewrite Draft]

Fluttershy and I cantered down a dirt path while her rabbit followed close behind. At this point, I had lost enough fluid in my leg that the hydraulics had begun to fail. And that wasn’t to mention how tired I was – whether that was due to the warp drive or slamming against the ground was up for debate. So I was thankful Fluttershy was willing to let me lean some of my weight on her. She held her farthest wing partly off her side, probably to balance our weight, and kept her closest wing wrapped around my barrel.

Trotting at a slow pace, I took in some of the sights and sounds. Birds and bugs of all kinds zoomed about from place to place, filling the air with a pleasant noise. The greenest of trees flanked the path, broken at times to reveal rolling hills and mountains in the distance. From what I could tell, it looked like we were in a valley, but there were no distinguishing landmarks by which I could determine our location.

Not that I really cared. When you’ve spent two years of your life cooped up in air conditioning and fluorescent lighting, going outside anywhere is an otherworldly experience. The crisp air, the warmth of the sun, the vibrant colors – there’s so much to take in that it almost feels surreal. And in my case, walking next to a bright yellow mare with wings, that surrealism hung at the front of my mind.

It didn’t help either that I had been awake for nearly half an hour now, but my systems had yet to pick up a radio signal. I knew there were some rural places that couldn’t receive radio waves, but they were few and far between. And given that I was supposed to be sent digitally from one place to another, it made even less sense that I would end up anywhere other than a pylon, let alone somewhere as backwoods as this.

“Nighttide,” Fluttershy said, making me flinch, “are you sure you can make it?”

I would have turned to look at her, but it was all I could do just to keep our manes from tangling. “How much farther do we have?”

Fluttershy examined the trees to our left. “We haven’t passed the farm yet, so we still have a little way.”

I glanced back at my injured leg. While the fluid wasn’t gushing so much as seeping at this point, that was mostly because I had lost so much. The recovery tanks within my suit had failed to pick up most of the leak, leaving the acrid smelling stuff to dissolve in the dirt and grass. I pinged my system: seven percent remaining showed on my retinal screen, meaning it wouldn’t be long before my leg gave out. My ears drooped at the reading.

Fluttershy must have noticed my apprehension, as next thing I knew, she gave me a light squeeze with her wing and said, “Tell you what: my house isn’t far from here. Why don’t I take you there and tend to your leg, then I can go get my friend and bring her back?”

It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice. Seven percent meant I only had a few yards to go before I became a pony-sized paperweight. And with no radio signals nearby, my distress beacon was little more than a letter in a bottle thrown into an open sea. At this point, I was at Fluttershy’s mercy – which, surprisingly, was not all that distressing. If anything, it was slightly comforting.

“Alright,” I said, turning my attention forward. Out of my periphery, I could see Fluttershy offer me a warm smile before looking down the path ahead of us. I couldn’t help but smile a little as well.

__________

The walk to Fluttershy’s was a struggle – probably more so for her than me, propping up a metal mare like myself – and by the time we arrived, I was ready to sleep the rest of the day off. But I still had enough energy to appreciate the place she called home.

A two-story cottage, constructed with wood rather than concrete or brick, stood on top of a small knoll, surrounded by a forest out back. I couldn’t tell if the cottage was simply old or if it had been built to look old, but either way, to say it was quaint would be an understatement. Vines and budding flowers traipsed up the sides to a roof covered in foliage. A variety of bird homes had been built both on and around the cottage, all of which were occupied with bright, cheery little creatures. In the sunlight, the place seemed to radiate a pleasant warmth.

When Fluttershy opened the front door, I tensed at the sight of animals—squirrels, foxes, even rats—scurrying across the floorboards, their ragged claws scratching the floorboards. Yet, Fluttershy didn’t even flinch; she just sauntered inside, her rabbit in tow. I slowly followed suit, eyeing the various creatures as I entered.

If the field I landed in was another world, the inside of Fluttershy’s house was like another dimension. The vines that covered the roof stuck in through the walls, curling around wooden planks and floorboards. Large wooden beams, pocked with moss and mushrooms, crisscrossed the ceiling. Small butterflies and hearts were carved into the wall. My internal cooling systems worked just fine, and yet I still felt the humidity.

“Here,” Fluttershy said, redirecting my attention to a sofa on the far end of the room. “You can lie down while I get something for your leg.”

“Thank you,” I said with a nod. Fluttershy walked past me and into another room while I clambered onto the sofa, being careful to keep my leaking limb off the cushion. Stretching out my forelegs, I went to rest my head when I realized just how… smelly the sofa was. Not in that way of course, but it was my first time being somewhere with a bunch of animals, and the odors were pungent to say the least. I scrunched my muzzle at the odd scents, but I got used to them quick enough and allowed myself to relax.

A moment later, Fluttershy trotted back in with a roll of cloth. I lifted my head and arched an eyebrow as she knelt down beside the sofa. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” Fluttershy looked my way, holding out the cloth. “Oh, this is what I use to bandage wounds!”

I blinked. “I, um… don’t know if this kind of wound requires a bandage.” I looked down at the joint in my prosthetic, seeping steaming hydraulic fluid onto her floor.

Fluttershy furrowed her brow and looked at my leg. For a moment, I was afraid she didn’t catch my meaning. But then she said, “Well, a boo-boo is a boo-boo either way, so until I can find you more help, we should stop the bleeding.”

I tilted my head. Surely she didn’t think this was blood? Not to mention… “Boo boo?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy said, wrapping a layer of cloth around my leg. “I would never leave somepony hurt without helping however I can.”

“No, sorry,” I said, waving a hoof. “I mean… what’s a boo boo?”

Fluttershy flinched. She looked up at me with wide eyes, like I had just said the strangest thing in the world. “You don’t know what a ‘boo boo’ is?”

I felt myself wilt, pulling back my head with ears flicked back. “Um… no, I’m afraid not.”

Fluttershy stared at me in silence, studying my expression for several seconds. I couldn’t hold my gaze with hers for longer than a few of those seconds, eventually looking down at my leg and biting the inside of my lip. After a bit, she took to wrapping my leg once more – this time at a rushed pace. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay. As soon as I finish, I’ll go get my friends and we’ll take care of you.”

Take care of me? That stole the wind from my lungs. That’s the sort of thing you hear somepony say before they snuff you out! Or, so I had learned through comics over the years. And yet… the way she said them made it clear: she was concerned, as if there was something inherently wrong with what I had just said.

I still didn’t feel threatened. I felt cared for, although I wasn’t sure why she seemed so alarmed.

Instead of questioning her, I gave a soft nod and let her finish wrapping my leg. A minute later, she grabbed a saddlebag, bade the few animals still hanging around the room a “be back soon,” and set off to fetch her friend – leaving me, a shiny metal mare with a busted leg, on a smelly sofa with a bunch of creatures staring at me from corners of a glorified treehouse.

I may have felt just a little out of place.

The dozens of animals that apparently called this place their home stared at me with beady black eyes. Winged, furred, big and small—no matter the animal, they all shared that same wide-eyed curiosity. And I did too, although my curiosity may have run a little deeper.

I scanned the animals with my suit’s sensors and ran the results against my system. Several pinged back matches, but most were registered as endangered or even extinct. How in the world could that be possible?

Now I worried I had somehow fallen captive to a crazy animal hoarder who dyed her mane and coat bright pastel colors. I probably would have bought that conclusion too, if it weren’t for the feathery appendages the mare was clearly born with.

There was more to all this than mere speculation could solve, so with all the animals scanned, I laid my head across my forelegs and sighed. Fluttershy didn’t tell me how long she would be, so there wasn’t much to do but sit and wait. And considering how exhausted I was, a nap sounded like the best thing ever.

I smirked at the thought. Rarely did I get a chance to do anything like nap back home. It was such a silly thing, but it almost felt dangerous to even consider. I could imagine the Colonel catching me snoozing on the job, only to wake me up with a shake and a shout and a couple dozen orders to fill. But there was no such stallion around to do that now, let alone anypony else from DIRE, and the warmth of the sunlight streaming inside was already threatening to lull me to sleep.

Biting my lip, I fought back a giggle and closed my eyes, shutting everything off save the passive sensors in my suit. If anything were to threaten me, my systems would automatically wake me up. But for now, I felt safe – strangely safe, in a unfamiliar place out in the middle of who knew where. And that was all I needed to make up my mind:

I’m gonna take a nap!

__________

By the time I awoke again, my suit felt like a furnace. Even with my eyes closed, I could tell the sunlight was now shining directly on me from a window behind the sofa – though that didn’t fully explain why I was so warm.

Shifting around on the cushions, I felt something coarse brush against my neck. I peeked an eye open to see a patchwork quilt lying over me. The red and brown patches of the quilt glowed with a warm hue beneath the sunlight, and little dust particles danced off the surface with each breath.

A sound across the room caught my attention. Peeking her head out from another room, Fluttershy looked over at me, then turned back inside. “Twilight,” I heard her murmur, “she’s awake.”

It didn’t quite register that she was addressing somepony else; I was still a bit groggy, and the warmth from the quilt and sunlight begged me to fall back asleep. But, curious, I sat up a little and called out. “Hey Fluttershy… when did you get back?”

Fluttershy ambled over and said, “Just a little while ago.” She stepped into the edge of the sunlight and gave me a soft smile, meeting my gaze with even softer eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

I hummed in thought – or a drowsy lack thereof. “Mmm… yeah.” Glancing at the quilt, I mumbled, “Did you do this?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a nod. “It’s early spring, so the house can still get a little cold at times. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

That was awfully sweet of her. I wouldn’t figure most ponies would think throwing a blanket over metal would do anything, but as it stood, Fluttershy seemed as unfamiliar with my anatomy as I was with hers. I was already surprised by how kind she had been, even after I nearly hurt her. But a little gesture like this really carried the message.

That said, now that I started to wake, it began to sink in just how friendly this pony was. Up until now, the gestures had been nice, if not a little unusual. But now I had too many questions to ignore, and Fluttershy’s behavior struck me as simply unnatural – after all, who would want a stranger sleeping in their house?

Furrowing my brow, I looked up at her and said, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

Fluttershy giggled. “It’s no problem. I hope you didn’t get too warm?”

“No, not at all,” I said with a weak smile. “But, um… really. You’ve been very kind, and we’ve only just met.” I opened my mouth to continue, but hesitated. When she returned a patient smile, my ears folded. I didn’t really want to question this mare, but it was my responsibility as a DIRE unit to assess the situation – something which, until now, I had done a poor job of. “So… maybe it’s a dumb question, but… is there any reason why—”

“Fluttershy?” somepony called out from across the room.

Fluttershy turned to look while I leaned over to get a better view. Walking up to us was yet another exotically colored pony – a purple mare with a tri-tone mane, sheared off in a straight line at the bangs beneath a…

I blinked. Sitting more upright, I squinted at the mare’s forehead. A small pointed object, much like a horn, protruded from her skull at an angle, parting through her mane. She looked at me with violet eyes, just as curious as mine must have been. We met gazes, but neither of us said a word.

Fluttershy, now standing off to the side, gestured to the pony. “Nighttide, this is my friend Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, this is Nighttide.”

Twilight and I continued to stare at each other, wide-eyed and wordless. After a moment, Fluttershy cleared her throat, jolting Twilight out of whatever train of thought she was in. “Right, sorry,” she stammered, glancing over at Fluttershy before looking at me with a rigid grin. “So, uh… Nighttide, right? It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hoof.

I looked down at her hoof. Pulling out one of mine from beneath the quilt, I reached out to shake hers.

Instead, she jerked back with a gasp, staring at the metal limb in shock. I immediately pulled back and said, “It’s okay! Just, you know. Prosthetic.” When she shot me an arched eyebrow, I said, “You, um… you do know what those are, right?”

It took her a second to shake off the shock before answering. “Yes, I… I’m sorry,” she said, running a hoof through the back of her mane. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just haven’t seen one up close before.”

I smiled a little at that. “Well, I hope you’re ready, ‘cause you’re about to see four.” Pushing myself upright, I let the quilt slide off my barrel to reveal the rest of my suit.

Twilight’s eyes somehow managed to widen even more. Stepping closer, she looked over the alloy surface of my suit, softly reflecting the sunlight. “I told you she looked a little different,” Fluttershy said from aside, grabbing her attention for a moment.

“I know,” Twilight said, looking back down at my suit. “I guess I just didn’t realize how much.” She glanced my way and said, “Is this armor of some sort?”

“Well…” I shrugged. “Not the kind you can take off.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “Wait. You mean to say this is all permanent?”

I nodded.

In the time it took Twilight to formulate a response, I let my eyes drift over the mare’s body. She too bore a set of wings, just a little larger than Fluttershy’s, and etched into her flank was an abstract symbol that resembled a star. Apparently flank tattoos were a common trait of this society.

“So…” Twilight cleared her throat. “Fluttershy said you were hurt?”

I met her gaze for a second before glancing down at my injured leg. “Right. Some damage to this one,” I said, giving the limb a little shake. “I don’t suppose you ponies know any mechanics?”

Fluttershy tilted her head, but Twilight seemed to brighten a little at the question. For a brief moment, I thought I was about to get a lead, until she said, “You mean how machines work, right?”

I pursed my lips. “Well, I meant someone who’s trained to work with machines. Like, you know… DIRE stuff.”

And just like that, I lost Twilight. “Dire stuff?” she said with a skeptical tone.

“Yeah. Daedalus equipment.” I stared at her flatly. “Usually, mechanics have a license to work on prosthetics like my own.”

Twilight returned a blank stare. “I… have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I furrowed my brow. “You mean, you haven’t heard of Daedalus?”

Twilight slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

I blinked, rearing back a little from her statement. It was one thing to live in a rural place, but it was quite another to have not heard of DIRE. “Okay… how about Tanis?”

Twilight shook her head again.

I gulped. Looking over at Fluttershy, I said, “Where did you say we were again?”

“Just outside Ponyville.”

“In the land of…?”

“Equestria,” she finished.

I looked back at Twilight, who appeared to be just as confused as I was. “Um… wh-what are the neighboring lands, if I may ask?”

“Well,” she began, letting her gaze drift in thought, “there’s Griffonstone, Yakyakistan – though we’ve been out of touch with them for a while – a little farther is Saddle Arabia—”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about Roanne?”

Twilight paused. “I can’t say that I’ve heard of it, no.”

That seemed impossible. Unless you grew up on a deserted island, there was no way somepony couldn’t have heard of Roanne. Then again, I was amongst colored ponies with wings and, apparently in this mare’s case, a horn, so a deserted island didn’t seem so far-fetched.

And with that realization in mind, what fog of sleep still lingering vanished.

Now it hit me: I was lost. Truly lost. Unless this was all just some vivid dream, I was lost amongst strangers who knew nothing of me or where I was from. Like a tidal wave, the unfamiliarity of everything hit me at once. Up to this point, the experience had been nothing short of exciting – just being away from DIRE was like a dream come true.

Now, all I wanted was to go home.

Drawing a shaky breath, I nudged the quilt to the side. Panic swallowed me, like a filly who’s just realized they’ve lost their parents in the middle of a crowd; surrounded by strangers in a strange place, I had no idea where I was or how to get home.

But I forced my nerves to steady. I had gone through years of training for emergencies just like this. Well, okay, maybe not just like this, but still – I knew that as long as I trusted in logic and reason, I would survive. At the least, it was certainly better than breaking down and crying for help.

Meeting Twilight’s gaze, I took a deep breath and mustered some strength into my voice. “Guess I have a few questions, then.”

Twilight gave a weak chuckle. “Yeah. Guess I do too.”