A Measure of History

“So, shall we begin?”

James looked at Twilight from his chair, a blank look on his face as he gave a slight shrug. “I guess we can—is there anything else on that list of yours?”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head, a miniscule frown adorning her mouth. She held a hoof to her chin in thought. “No, not that I can think of. I cleared my schedule just for this.” She giggled to herself, her cheeks attaining a slight flush. “I’m sorry, this is all very sudden—I didn’t expect Celestia to give me this assignment, with such little notice! I’ve had very little time to plan or prepare!”

James neglected to respond, watching as Twilight paced back and forth. Glasses of water had been placed on the table between the two of them, and a small platter to the side included small little pastries, sugared hearts decorating their frosted surfaces. Sheets of beige parchment, translucent glasses of viscous black ink, and feathered quills began to gather within the unicorn’s lilac grasp, and James could not help but marvel at the evident manifestation of magic.

Indeed, all this still felt very much like a dream to James, and a small part of him simply could not refrain from believing he would wake up at any moment, scoffing at the childish inventions his imagination had crafted from the threads of his mind.

Now, however, was the time for learning—something James truly enjoyed. For, however, fake or imaginary this new land was, it still held things for James to learn. An entire world, fresh and raw, with legions upon legions of books to read through, and supposed millennia of history to navigate. Education was the one familiarity James held in this Equestria, and by god would he hold onto whatever semblance of home he could get. Excitement bottled up within James at the prospect of education, though he did his best to obscure it.

It was, though, clear that Twilight Sparkle shared his excitement. The prospect of an entirely new species and universe, something she had never thought she would encounter in a lifetime—it was absolutely insane, and yet here he was, a representative of such a thing! The pony’s body trembled with excitement as she sat down, eager to begin the mission that her teacher had bestowed upon her.

“How should we start?” James asked, shifting slightly in his uncomfortably small chair.

Twilight tilted her head at the man, her mouth curled into a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Well, how are we going to start this?” James continued. “I mean, there’s just so much to cover, it’s… actually kind of intimidating. So what do we begin with? Culture? History? Any ideas?”

The unicorn sat back in thought, and her gaze angled upwards, seemingly perusing through her ideas. “Hm… well, I guess, for starters, we can begin with a general overview on our respective species—ponies and humans. What we’re like. From there, we can dip into basic history, and then spread out our conversation,” she looked back down at James, smiling warmly at him. “Does that sound good to you, James?”

“That sounds fine,” James responded, nodding his head. “Would you like me to begin?”

“Sure!” Twilight exclaimed, leaning back. She pulled her hooves up to her chair, much like a foal would in preparation for a grandparent’s story. “I’d love to hear about humans!”

James chuckled, shifting into a position he usually reserved for lectures as he cleared his throat. “Alright, I can see you’re excited. Well, to begin…

It’s actually kind of difficult to describe humanity accurately—we’re a difficult species to put a label on, because we’re all so different. But that’s what makes us, us—our differences, our individuality, the way any one person can be completely, one-hundred-percent different than another, yet still be considered human. If there’s one way I can describe humanity…”

James paused, taking a breath. Twilight gazed on in fascination, her mind already racing with what meager details her companion had given her thus far.

“We’re adaptable, we’re individualistic, and we’re incredibly unpredictable. Humanity has this drive, this urge, to always improve itself, through technology, through society, through everything. Because of that, we’re a restless people, relentless and perseverant—curious, almost to a fault. Humans are incredibly ambitious, especially in our curiosity, to the point where we’re some of the most stubborn sons of…”

James trailed off, his eyes glazed downwards and his mouth hung open. Twilight leaned in, unsure as to why he had stopped, keen for even more information on humanity. “Yes? What’s wrong, James?”

He gave a low chuckle, waving a hand in dismissal before he continued. “Oh, nothing, just… it doesn’t matter. Anyways, I don’t think even that little attempt at a definition describes us perfectly, and there are always those outliers. But, even so, we’re an interesting kind, Twilight, and there’s no one way to define us. There’s the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly—if that makes any sense. We’ve done a lot of good, and we’ve done a lot of bad—but everything we’ve done, every goal we’ve achieved and every mistake we’ve made, has always been a constant movement to something greater, something that makes ourselves, humanity, even stronger. We’ve had our moments of terror, but we’ve always grown from them.”

James suddenly stopped, his cheeks flushing as he hung his head. “S-sorry, Twilight, I… may have gotten a little bit too into it there. I’m sure that all sounded very corny, like I was trying to sound wise or something.”

Twilight shook her head, beaming brightly at James as her wide eyes glimmered. “No, no, it’s okay, James. Actually, it was kind of… inspirational,” she giggled, leaning forward. “I quite liked it! I’d… definitely like to meet more of your kind, though I’m sure that won’t happen very soon.”

James gave a low snicker, his tongue licking his dried lips. Realizing his thirst, James reached down for his glass of water, grasping the cool surface of the cup. He gulped a mouthful of water, before looking back at Twilight.

“So, any questions? I know that was a lot to take in, and I may have dramatized it a bit.”

“Yes, a couple, actually,” Twilight replied. “You said that your species, humanity—you said you’ve had ‘moments of terror,’ and you make it seem like humanity has gone through some pretty bad stuff. Can you explain?”

James frowned, hesitating to respond. “Well, I… I’d like to leave that stuff for another day, if possible. Some of it isn’t as bright, though I’m sure you ponies have had your fair share of bad moments throughout history?”

“Well,” Twilight began, “not particularly. There are a couple of things, like Princess Luna’s descent into Nightmare Moon, Sombra, or otherwise, but besides those? Not many, to be honest.”

James’ face fell, the man wincing inwardly as he looked away. “Oh, well… okay. I mean, I guess that’s a good thing.” He chuckled weakly, reverting his gaze to Twilight.

“So what about ponies and Equestria? Just the barebones stuff, have you got anything?”

“Barebones?” Twilight questioned, tilting her head in confusion. James coughed, waving his hand.

“Sorry, basic stuff, not too much detail, just a general overview.”

Twilight shook her head, giving a low giggle. “No, I know what it means, it’s just, that’s a phrase used by griffons... we don’t generally use it here in Equestria, and I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh. Sorry. Well, continue?”

Twilight laughed, holding a hoof to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her amusement. “James, you apologize too much. It’s okay! Anyways, ponies…”

“So, you’re telling me that, for nearly three millennia, Equestria has been ruled by a pair of... what are essentially goddesses?”

Twilight giggled, making circular motions with her hoof before she took a sip of her own glass of water. “Well, not exactly. Princess Celestia ruled alone for the last thousand years, but recently, Princess Luna came back. But, what do you mean, ‘goddesses?’”

“Well,” James stuttered, his mind reeling at the revelation of the diarch’s powers. “You said that they—Celestia and Luna—raise the sun and the moon respectively, and they’ve been alive for well over three thousand years. Back home, they’d be considered deities, gods, the stuff of myths and legends.”

The unicorn tilted her head in slight confusion. “Are you saying that your own rulers aren’t the same? Or are there no princesses, princes, queens, or kings?”

“Well, no, the majority of Earth’s nations haven’t had kings or queens for a very long time,” James explained. “Of course, there were a whole bunch of them throughout history, but none of them were immortal, and I’m pretty sure none of them could control stars or other… cosmic bodies.”

“So, then who rules humans now?”

James shrugged, his gaze shifting away. “Well, that depends. All of the nations across Earth have a wide range of governments. Republics, democracies, dictatorships, even the occasional monarchy here and there.”

“And how do those go?” Twilight continued to ask, her curiosity sparked even further by James’ newest revelation. “Sorry, it’s just… kind of hard to imagine…”

“No, it’s okay,” James replied, waving his hand in dismissal. “Some governments and nations have worked, and others… really haven’t. It’s safe to say that Earth’s political history has been a bit volatile.” He looked back at Twilight, a question on his mind. “Why? Aren’t there other countries out there not ruled by the Princesses?”

Twilight shook her head, a sheepish expression on her face. “Yes, but even then, both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have some measure of control over the other countries. And the ones they have little to no influence over, well, they're ruled by other kinds of magical mandate.” She stood up from her seat, her eyes perusing through a series of shelves before resting upon a rather large book. Grasping it with her magic, Twilight floated the book to the table, opening its contents.

“This, James, is a map of the known world,” Twilight explained, her hoof pointing across the pages of the book. Indeed, spread across the large parchment was a map, its colors dulled and its lines blurred from age and use. “As you can see, Equestria takes up a large portion of the map, but there are some other nations. Yakyakistan, for example, or Griffonstone, home of the griffons, if you couldn’t tell.”

James resisted the urge to grimace, his mind scoffing inwardly at the mention of other sentient animals. “Are they ruled by their own… god-kings or queens?”

“No,” Twilight said, drawing a line with her hoof around the two nations’ borders. “They’re ruled by their own monarchs, yes, but they’re just normal yaks or griffons of royal blood. Princess Celestia and Luna, however, hold a large amount of power within their politics—both Yakyakistan and Griffonstone lie within Equestria’s borders, for one, and everypony, yak, griffon, or otherwise relies on the sun and moon, daytime and nighttime.”

“I… guess that makes sense,” James muttered, despite his real lack of understanding on the matter. All of these nations, all of these words, they held little meaning to him, and though he would have liked to learn about them, he simply couldn’t connect the terms to any sort of knowledge.

Twilight briefly took a glance out the window, before gaping in surprise. “Oh, Celestia, look at the time!”

Raising an eyebrow, James followed her gaze outside, noting the darkening skies and the steadily rising moon. “Eh? How long has it been?”

Twilight stood up hastily from her chair, the wooden seat and table squeaking and clattering at her sudden movement. “At least a few hours. Spike!”

Silence followed the unicorn’s call, and Twilight cupped a hoof around her mouth, raising her voice before trying again. “Spike! Are you here?”

After a few moments, a purple and green figure wandered down the stairs, rubbing his eyes with a low moan. “Ugh, Twilight, you called?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, frowning at the dragon. “Spike, have you been sleeping or something?”

“Y-yeah,” he responded, giving a brief yawn before continuing. “We never made a list, or schedule, or anything for the day. You and James just left after breakfast, so I decided to catch up on some sleep.”

“No schedule?” Twilight questioned, worry etched upon her face. “But-but I always make schedules, how could I have forgotten?” She turned towards James, her eyes wide. “No wonder I’ve been so cluster-brained this entire day, I haven’t even set anything up! Oh, James, I’m so sorry, I—“

James coughed, smiling at Twilight. “It’s fine, Twilight, don’t worry about it.” He looked at Spike, slightly tilting his head. “Though, do you two usually make schedules for every day?”

“Oh,” Spike groaned, raising his claws. “You wouldn’t believe it, there’s always a list, or schedule, or something for every day, and every single thing we do that day. Sometimes we make two, or three, just in case.”

Twilight moaned, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, James. It’s our first day, and I’ve already messed up—”

“Twilight,” James interrupted, his voice firm and steady. “I said it’s okay. I’ll admit, a schedule for every day seems a bit… strange, to say the least, but you don’t have to worry about me. You haven’t messed anything up, as far as I know.”

Twilight smiled up at James, beginning to calm down. “Thanks, James, I appreciate it. I just… I guess I got a little excited,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What with you, a new species in Equestria, and all.”

James chuckled, placing his hands on the table. “Well, I guess it’s time for dinner, or something? I am a bit hungry.”

Twilight and Spike shared a laugh, nodding their heads. “Yes, I guess so. Spike, have you got anything planned for tonight?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m sure you guys will love tonight’s meal!”

“Mama, mama, look at me! Look!”

It was a voice, that of a young boy’s, eager and innocent. A familiar voice, one James once knew all too well, and the sound of it made his heart ache.

What had happened to those days?

“James Richard Volker, you get down from that tree right now!” another voice cried out. Usually, it was warm and loving, but right now, it was stern, scolding. Impatient, even. His mother.

A pity that very voice had later been wrought by disappointment, depression, and the soft chords of one who believed they had failed.

“But mama,” the boy whined, his hands tightly gripping the apple tree. “I can see the entire farm from here!”

James’ mother interrupted him, her voice growing impatient. “You will get down from that tree this instant, young man, or else! And I’m sure you know exactly what ‘else’ is.”

The young James Volker groaned, before nodding in reluctant affirmation. “Okay, ma.”

He began to sidle down the tree, lowering himself branch by branch. Step by step, James carefully climbed down, his mother alert and watching for his safety. Fine, James thought, his young mind brash and reckless. If she won’t let me have my fun, then I’ll make a game out of her rules.

James began to climb down even faster, his once cautious steps now quick and carefree. His mother’s brows clenched, impatience and stern anger taking root as she stepped closer. “Young man, be careful, or you’ll—“

Too late. His foot had slipped, his impetuous step placing him upon a wet, slippery fruit and branch. With an alarmed cry, James lost his grip, his body tumbling from the tree like a lead balloon. Before his mother could react, he had landed, rather roughly, upon the ground, the jade grass barely cushioning his fall. Pain shot through James’ body like arcs of lightning, and tears began to well up in the young boy’s eyes.

The young child could not help himself any longer, and he began to cry, his small whimpers and bleats steadily increasing in volume. Suddenly, a warm body wrapped around his small form, a tender, comforting hand clutching his cheek. His mother’s chin rested upon his head.

“Shh,” Emily Volker crooned, her presence helping to dull James’ pain. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay. Mama’s here, you’ll be fine.”

James sniffled, his small arms holding his mother’s body. He found comfort in his mother, and his cries slowly dwindled.

She continued to whisper and murmur, her voice now soft and loving. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you? You’ll be okay, right? Remember, big boys don’t cry.”

The young James slowly released his mother, his eyes shining with the vestige remnants of his tears, before giving a pained smile. “Okay, mama,” he said, trying his best to appear tall and strong. “I can be okay.”

“That’s a good boy,” his mother replied, her hands still holding his own. “You want to head back home? Papa is probably back from town, I’m sure he’s got plenty of stuff he wants to show you.”

James nodded, watching his mother stand up. “Um, mama, before we go?”

She turned, her head tilted. “Yes, James?”

“I’m sorry, mama,” James said, his head hung in shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

His mother smiled warmly, shaking her head. “It’s okay, James. As long as you remember to listen to me from now on.”

The two began to walk back home, across the farm. In the distance, the sun began to set, the horizon shifting into a moody purple along the pastoral scene. A veil of stars began to appear in the sky, the white moon watching like a sentinel over James and the Earth.

“I’m sorry.”

With a strained groan, James Volker slowly opened his eyes, a shade-less white light shining from above. Confusion gripped the man, and as he rubbed his eyelids with his fingers, James’ thoughts drifted to the dreamscape that he had been pulled away from. Curious, indeed, to have dreamt of such a time.

Yet, he was not awake, James realized, and when he rolled over onto his side, he saw a pair of tan boots, sand and mud caking its surface. With a start, James crawled backwards, a low gasp shooting out of his mouth.

“Private Volker. It’s nice to see you again.”

James shot up to his feet, his eyes taking in those of Christopher Winston. Dead, yet alive—an interesting dichotomy.

“Chris, I…” James trailed off, his head swiveling madly as he looked around. White, white, white—it was all rather white. “I… we’re back here? Wherever this is?”

The deceased soldier turned around, his arms spread. “Yes, this place. Not sure what to call it, really, but we’re here.” He faced James, raising an eyebrow. “Again. And I’m sure you don’t quite know why.”

James shook his head slowly, his frown growing. “No, I really don’t. Am I dreaming? Is that what’s going on?”

“Kind of,” Christopher replied, chuckling lowly. “Though, I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do either, really. I’m dead, you’re alive, yet something keeps bringing us together.”

James raised an eyebrow, curiosity setting within his bones. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Winston replied, shrugging lazily. “But, for now, I guess we can just talk.”

“About what?”

Christopher shrugged again, a smirk upon his features. “Whatever we want. How’s Equestria?”

James Volker grimaced, looking away. “It’s… strange, really. The inhabitants, these ponies, they’re an interesting bunch. Yet, I kind of…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I kind of like them. Though I'm not sure they feel the same way.”

“And you seem to have shacked up with a particular unicorn. What was her name? Twilight Sprinkle? Highlight Snorkel?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” James corrected him. “She’s nice, though a bit eccentric, to say the least. The ponies have this… goddess, I guess. She’s called Celestia, or something, and she controls the sun. Or at least, she says she does.”

“And what about her?”

James gave a sardonic chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “Well, she’s having me do this culture exchange with Twilight, so we can learn about each other’s respective species, society, whatever.”

“You don’t like doing this, James?" Christopher questioned, tilting his head. “I thought you liked history?”

James shook his head, waving his hand in dismissal. “No, it’s not that. It’s actually kind of interesting, I like it. It’s just… I never expected to do this kind of thing with these adorable little ponies I’d expect to find in a little girl’s toy closet.”

Christopher laughed, his loud bellows familiar to James. “I don’t think any of us in Iraq would have expected to. Though, I guess if anyone is the most likely to fall into your situation, it’s you. Not Paul, not Rickson… maybe Ybarra, but not sure about that one.”

The two men laughed together, before falling into silence. Christopher looked into James’ eyes, placing a hand upon his shoulder.

“James, can I ask you something?”

James nodded, giving his friend a solemn smile. “Anything, Chris. Shoot.”

Christopher hesitated for a few moments, before speaking. “How… how are they? My family?”

The smile on James’ face disappeared, the teacher looking away. “Uh, right. Well, Marla is great, she’s doing fine. She was really down in the dumps after… the news, but, she’s doing well. Last I checked, Marla was working as a waitress at Granger’s Steakhouse. You know the one, right? We stopped by there on our last leave?”

Christopher nodded, a smile creeping across his features. “Yeah, that’s the one. Granger’s treating her alright, I’m sure? And how’s Junior?”

“Donny,” James began, his eyes brightening. “Donovan is doing really well, I’m sure you’re glad to hear. When he and his mother got the news, he was devastated. Crying all night, stopped speaking to his friends. But…”

“Yeah, James?” Christopher asked, leaning closer to James. “What happened?”

James smiled, nodding his head. “I… I helped them, or at least tried to. After a while, Donny began to do really well in school, he made tons of friends—volunteered at the soup kitchen, tutored his peers, everything.” He clasped a hand on Chris’s shoulder, holding him tightly. “He’s a real smart kid, Chris. Last I checked in, he had just turned eighteen, and he told me he was going to Harvard. Full scholarship, academic, full honors—he has these dreams, sarge. He wants to make the inner city a better place, for everyone. And I’m right there with him. Or… at least I was.”

Christopher Winston nodded, backing away from James, beaming widely. “That’s… that’s real good to hear, James, I…” Tears, moist tears of joy, began to well up in his eyes, the man evidently elated. “Thanks, James. I… I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Chris. I did what I can, considering the—“

Suddenly, a low, ominous roar interrupted James, the white landscape shifting and fading around the two men. James straightened in alarm, his eyes darting around.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?”

Again, a roar boomed from some other-worldly place, the room threatening to crumble around them as the white shifted into a rainbow of colors.

“It’s time for us to go, James.” Christopher replied, the man steadily backing away. “Though, I’m sure we’ll be back. Something keeps calling us back here every so often—we’ll be back.”

James nodded towards Christopher, watching the man disappear as the white room continued to collapse around him. The colors faded, mixed, and divulged, the roar continuing as James was pulled away.

With a final rumble, James disappeared, his mind thrown back into reality.