A Measure of History

by -SBRS

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Human, Sad, Romance
Length: 31913

A high-school history teacher exchanges stories of his homeland with Twilight Sparkle.

Cancelled
This story will be ground to dust, and possibly rewritten under a new guise and name.

James Volker is a history teacher, dedicating his life to mentoring the youth of urban Brooklyn. With a speckled past such as his, it's no wonder he strives to turn his budding teenage students away from the same mistakes he made as a young man.

After a particular vehicular accident, James finds himself awakening in a certain village's fountain, surrounded by creatures he could have sworn had popped straight out of a child’s storybook.

What, then, happens when Equestria's benevolent ruler decides to engage him in a culture exchange with her student, Twilight Sparkle?

Cover Art by Jdbener.
Edited by Lightning Farron.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-16 23:55:20 UTC

Part I - Chapter One: The Plunge

Important Note:

This story is currently being rewritten. It does not fulfill my own standards. The rewrite will eventually be published under the title

"A Query for the Dream."

November 9th, 2004

Fallujah, Iraq

His head pounded, feeling very much as if someone was repeatedly slamming a mallet upon his temple. His vision was hazy, blurry, and dark—he delved in and out of consciousness, like an overboard sailor tossed through Poseidon’s violent embrace. His hands flailed weakly beneath his body, attempting to grab some sort of safety, some sort of brace, to hold his unsteady frame.

He could not hear; an infuriating buzz filled his ears. He groaned feebly, and his chest ached as he struggled for breath. In and out, in and out, air was sucked into his lungs only to be expunged forcefully, spit and bile flying out between his dry lips as he retched and choked.

Beneath him, the ground felt soft, grainy. His legs kicked repeatedly, digging through the material. Sand, coarse and rough, its surface hot to the touch, filled the spaces between his fingers. He felt the sun above, scorching angrily down upon his face. Where was he?

The world’s threads and oils shifted and melded, and suddenly, he was crouched behind a boulder, a long object of steel and polymer in his grasp as a man, dark-skinned and faint, shouted orders at him. His ears were racked by the sharp cracks of bullets, and the frantic voices of both his comrades and the enemy muddled together like a cacophonous roar. Behind him, men dressed in drab camouflage dragged a charred body out of a vehicle—why was it so familiar?

He felt his head nod, his body rising to a stand. The dark-skinned man before him gave a light salute. He felt his legs pumping up and down as he ran, ever so desperately, to reach a corner. He had no more time—his friends were relying on him!

‘Three,’ he thought, tightening his grip on his rifle.

‘Two,’ he glanced around the corner, failing to spot anything.

‘One,’ time was of the essence—it was do or die.

‘Zero,’ without further ado, he emerged from the corner, his legs pumping him into a sprint. He huffed and puffed, his equipment jangling on his body. He had almost made it—his destination was so close! Faster, faster, quickly, quickly, he had no time to lose! Ten meters, nine meters, eight meters, seven, he was nearly there!

Thwack!

Suddenly, pain flared from his chest, a seemingly magical fist pushing him backwards as force violently clashed against force. A crimson rose, bubbly and shining bright under the light of the desert sun, erupted from his sternum, its stem stabbing through the thin cloth of his uniform. His legs lost their energy and his mind went blank. He fell to the ground, his head thumping against the sand as his brain rolled in his skull like a pair of dice.

What had happened?

He heard a voice screaming, its essence like that of a soul torn from the land of the living. After a moment he realized it was his own, young and fresh, yet terrified and shrieking. Why was he screaming? What had happened? Had he fallen off the tractor? Where was his mother?

His vision darkened, his eardrums deafeningly ringing. Maybe… maybe it was time to take a nap, for a little while. His mother, or his father—either would wake him up soon, maybe? The warm summer sun of rural Pennsylvania felt refreshing and revitalizing on his face. Warm, thick water covered his skin in droplets, its scent coppery. It just felt right to take a nap in the cool, fresh grass. He could wake up before dinner, probably. Perhaps his mother was making those steak and potatoes he loved again…

November 20th, 2015

Eleven Years Later

Brooklyn, New York

James Volker rubbed his face with a low groan, his eyes threatening to close due to his fatigue. Why had he decided to come to work today? His head pounded, and he was plagued by a crippling headache. What inane stupidity from within had decided that it was a good day to work? For Christ’s sake, he worked with teenagers! Loud, rambunctious, chaotic teenagers, on the cusp of their adulthood, wailing day in and day out about relationships, drama, sports, and the like!

Ah, yes. That was it. He loved his students—he loved them dearly. They were innocent, naïve, refreshing from the chilling monotony, repetition, and tedium of his peers and colleagues. No matter how annoying, frustrating, or absolutely terrifying they were, James Volker absolutely loved teaching them, mentoring the next generation as they prepared to thrust themselves into the torturous grasp of real society.

It was at least a blessing that his last class of the day was composed of seniors. They were at least somewhat quieter—though not by much.

Shaking his head to at least rid himself temporarily of his headache, James stood up, his pin-stripe suit ruffling. He strolled to the front of the classroom, gazing over his students whilst they conversed, laughed, and gossiped. After a moment, he clapped his hands together, and almost instantaneously, the teenagers ceased their shenanigans, staring attentively back at James.

He always loved to do that.

“Students!” he exclaimed, analyzing each pupil. “Welcome back to AP European History. How are you all feeling?”

He was met with a chorus of “good’s,” “eh’s,” and “alright’s,” and James smiled warmly.

“Now, I understand that because it is the final period of the day, you’re all itching to get home. But!” He turned around, grabbing hold of a metal handle. He pulled down a large map, and Europe sat before him, multi-colored in all of its glory. “Today, we will be beginning our first lessons on Medieval Europe! Now, to start, does anybody here know anything about twelfth-century Germany?”

James noted that none of his students had raised their hands. Nodding to himself, he walked up to the desk of a particular pupil, red-haired and freckled.

“Connor, do you know what the Holy Roman Empire was? One point extra credit if you can give me the correct answer.”

The boy, Connor, scratched his head frantically, eager to gain the one point for his grade, yet ignorant of the answer. “Uh, I don’t know Mister Volker. Some empire in Rome that was religious, or something?”

James chuckled heartily, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m afraid that’s incorrect, Mister Buckley. The Holy Roman Empire is known to have been neither Holy, nor Roman, nor an Empire.” He rapped Connor’s wooden desk with his knuckles, before walking back to the front of the classroom. “It was a nice try, Connor, but I’m afraid I’ll have to withhold that point for now.”

The boy groaned as the rest of the class chuckled, watching eagerly as their favorite teacher continued the lesson. “Moving on, students. I have a small video I would like for you all to watch first, on the early medieval days of the Holy Roman Empire.” A few students cheered, happy at the prospect of a video, before James dashed their hopes and dreams. “But you’ll still have to pay attention. There will be a quick quiz and a class discussion at the end of it, so don’t slack off. Any questions?”

A hand rose from the middle of the room—a chocolate-skinned girl, the end of her black locks dyed a bright brownish red. “Mister Volker, how long is the video? Just wonderin’.”

James smiled warmly at the girl, an almost mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, you can watch and find out.” He shut off the lights with a flick of the finger, and the cool white light disappeared, a television in the corner lighting up. Retreating to his desk in the back of the room, James lounged back, electing to watch over his students.

Hopefully, his headache would be gone by the morrow, when he could properly teach his students. Maybe a visit to the school nurse was in order, before he left, or one of his fellow teachers might have some medicine of some sort.

James Volker winced, holding his temple as it pounded and ached. A truck’s horn sounded off behind him, and the teacher gave a brief flick of the middle finger behind him before stepping on the accelerator.

He had been stuck in traffic near the Washington Bridge for the better part of the afternoon, his headache feeling very much like his old drill sergeant was screaming directly into his ears again. With a quick glance at his car’s clock, James noted the time. 1551 hours, nearly two hours since his workday had finished.

Unfortunately, whatever god that sat above had felt that it was precisely the correct day to shift the daily rush hour sixty minutes ahead, thus pitting James in what was essentially a cage match with every single other commuter that happened to be leaving New York into New Jersey.

The combination of bumper-to-bumper traffic and his splitting headache had made James quite miserable indeed, and he would have given anything, absolutely anything to simply get out of the hellhole that was the New York Metropolitan area.

Approaching the car to his front, James pressed on his brake, slowing his vehicle down to a halt. Eyeing the car to his front, James noted its features. A 2009 Lancer, painted a deep metallic red. It was common enough, and did not garner any special attention, yet James could enjoy the vehicle’s simplicity—the humble pleasures in life were what James enjoyed the most. He had always been a modest boy from the Pennsylvania Dutch Country.

Glancing in his rearview mirror, James noted the flatbed behind him, its driver clearly infuriated by James’ earlier gesture of goodwill. The history teacher rolled his eyes, preparing his hand for another gesture, when a sudden pain pierced his skull, his vision flashing into a checkerboard pattern. James clutched his head, growling in frustration.

Again, the flatbed’s horn blasted from behind him, the driver flailing his arms angrily. The traffic to James’ front had died down, seemingly opening up a large gap up the bridge, and James pressed down on the accelerator, eager to take his chance.

Powering up the highway, James’ car rolled up onto the bridge, following the somewhat sparser flow of traffic to his front. His speedometer steadily increased, the needle cycling around it. Twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty. James removed his foot from the accelerator for a brief moment, checking his rearview mirror once more. To his displeasure, James saw the flatbed truck following closely behind him.

“Idiot,” James growled, giving the driver a death-stare through the rearview mirror. Hopefully, the situation would not escalate to a case of road-rage—that was simply hazardous on the Washington Bridge. With any luck, the flatbed’s driver would understand the potential danger.

A lightning-flash of pain flared into James’ skull, and his hand flew to his head, releasing his foot from the gas. Realizing his situation, James pressed his foot down once more, slowly removing his hand from his head. Thirty, thirty-five, forty—

“God dangit,” James muttered, watching as the flatbed’s driver changed lanes, speeding past James while flipping the veteran off. It had seemed that James had overestimated humanity—the driver of the flatbed was evidently infuriated by James’ antics, and had clearly had enough. With a loud vroom, the flatbed raced ahead, pulling ahead of James. Behind the veteran, other cars started to honk at the pair, and James growled, stepping down hard on the accelerator in an attempt to appease the drivers around him.

“Never should have driven with this headache,” James mumbled, watching the flatbed. Closer and closer he drove, eyeing the truck for any change in movement. Fortunately, there was no turn or lane-change signal—the driver wouldn’t try to cut him off for the time being.

‘ZZZZING!’

James snarled viciously, his hand flying back to his searing temple. A split second later, he realized his mistake, opening his eyes frantically as he looked back out the front window. James let out a low sigh of relief, failing to see anything wrong—

A deafening roar blasted through the air, an ear-splitting sound of metal screeching against metal, and James was knocked to the side, his vision tumbling. Shouting in urgency, James clutched his steering wheel tightly, the world spinning around him. Horns blared from all around him, yet James paid them no heed—something was going terribly wrong!

James’ eyes widened—suddenly he could only see blue and white. For a second, the teacher was utterly confused—why was his car tipped upwards, towards the sky? But then, a moment of sheer realization and panic filled him, his mouth opening to scream as his car pitched downwards, revealing the deep, muddy blue of the Hudson River. Momentum took his body, attempting to tear him away from the steering wheel as his car began to fall. Clutching the wheel with a death-grip, James Volker watched as the deep water below came rushing closer. He was done for, he was dead—not by bullet, not by artillery shell, not by bomb, but by drowning, of all things.

With a sudden clap and a frightful impact, James’ car sunk below the surface of the water, falling down, down, down, towards the bottom of the bay. Panic quickly took James, his mind racing at a million miles a second, and his breath began to grow short—he could not breathe! There was no water in the car, and yet he could not breathe!

Struggling to take in air, James clutched his chest, coughing and wheezing as his eyes teared up. Water began to pour in from the sides of the car, the vehicle slowly filling up with the murky filth. How would he die, then? Asphyxiation by drowning, or by choking to death?

The water quickly rose to his face, and with a last cough of desperation, James was submerged in the water, completely unable to breath. Small, pathetic bubbles left his mouth whilst the Marine Corps veteran struggled for air, for life—he didn’t want to die!  Not yet! He still had students to teach, teenagers to mentor, future successes to tend to, children to divert away from their troubles—why now, why now?!

Slowly, slowly, slowly, James’ vision grew dark, his attempts to live growing feebler by the second. He felt like he was floating, drifting steadily down into the depths of the bay. His limbs grew weak, his mouth hanging open as he gazed down into the sunken deep. Where was he again? The local country club’s pool? His sister, Alex, would be around, right? Pulling him back up to the surface, giving him a glass of juice as their parents watched from nearby, smiling at the siblings' friendship? Or was he at the beach, on one of his family’s occasional trips to the Jersey Shore, briefly dragged underwater by a particularly large wave? Was he back with the Marine Corps, undergoing deep water training with his platoon near the well-deck of a Navy vessel?

Suddenly, James’ glazed eyes took in something unique, something different—a light, a bright light, beaming down from above. Above? But wasn’t he looking down into the depths? Was up down, and down up, or was up above, and below down? What was going on?

Despite his wandering thoughts, James set his goal—he punched upwards with both hands, kicking his feet and spreading his hands again. Hadn't he just been in the front seat of a car? How were his legs free? Ignoring the matter, James repeated the stroke, slowly yet steadily rising up towards the light. Closer and closer the light came, rippling like a diamond from below the surface of the water. A warm sun gleamed from above, shining a bright orange-yellow. A smile crept onto James’ mouth, and he kicked up again, the light only an inch away from his fingertips. With one final kick, and one final spread of his arms, James hit the surface, rapidly emerging from his watery tomb.

Air! Wonderful oxygen, crisp and clear! With a frantic gasp, James fell onto his knees, his hands in contact with some marble-like tiles. His arms grew weak, however, and James collapsed onto his face. Water filled his mouth again, and with a shout and a flail, he arose from the water again, cool droplets flying from his face. His vision was blurry and his eyes burned, presumably from the salt of the bay water. Rubbing his face with a groan, James leaned back, opening his eyes to see where he was.

A… a fountain? Why was he in a fountain? Panic began to take James—he had just fallen into the Hudson River, why in the world was he in a fountain?

A gasp of alarm escaped him, and James looked away from the fountain, only to be met with… horses? Bright, multi-colored horses, their eyes huge and their mouths hanging open as they stared at him—in confusion? In terror? In curiosity? And, to James’ immense incredulity, some of the horses seemed to have wings, and others horns!

Was this a dream? Was he dead? Had he drowned in the bay? Rapidly, James’ eyes flicked back forth, taking in the sights around him. His breath grew short, his lungs catching. He was soaking wet, his body cold and frigid, and yet James paid it no mind, sheer terror beginning to fill him.

James's panicked gaze darted around, when one minty green horse caught his attention. It had a green horn and a golden harp painted on its flank, looking very much like it was either smiling or preparing for dinner. Its eyes were bugged out, gazing at James with an almost psychotic stare, and James splashed backwards, retreating as far as he could from the horrifying unicorn. Did it want to eat him? Did it see James to be food?

The thought of horses eating humans filled James Volkers’ mind, and with a choked scream, the hardened  veteran jumped up to his feet, turning away from the unicorn. His eyes flicked back and forth, hysterically searching for a path of exit—there! A gap in the lines, large enough for a truck or two! James retched out a watery cough, beginning to pump his legs forwards.

Yes! The horses, the carnivorous horses, they did nothing to stop him! Rather, they split apart like a biblical sea, making way for the frenzied teacher. Struggling forwards like a zombie, James ran as fast as he could, his limbs flailing around uncontrollably. He was almost there, he was almost out! Ten meters, nine meters, eight meters, seven! Escape was close!

Suddenly, James tasted dirt, his face planting into the ground. No, no! He could not collapse now, he did not want to be eaten by horses! His arms set into the ground, desperately attempting to push himself up, but he did not, could not—his strength had failed him!

With a cry of anguish and terror, James grew tired, his eyes heavy and his vision dark. He could not feel his limbs, and he could only hear muffled sounds and voices. With a final choke, James Volker lost consciousness, his fingers clawing at the ground beneath him.

Part I - Chapter Two: Revival

Twilight Sparkle gazed down curiously at the creature before her, her insides bubbling with excitement. What was this new animal? From whence had it come? Had anypony else ever discovered one before?

The answer to the latter of the three questions should have been obvious—none of her books, guides, or bestiaries had ever detailed such a being before, and although it bore a remarkable similarity to a few already known species, such as minotaurs, apes, or the like, she had determined that the creature on the table in front of her was entirely new, never before discovered!

That, alone, forced Twilight to resist exploding in exhilaration and anticipation. To be the pony to have discovered an entirely new species of animals in Ponyville, throughout the entirety of Equestria’s history! It was a wondrous thought to such a pony ingratiated within research and academia.

But where had it come from? The Everfree, perhaps, or maybe from lands afar? Twilight had no idea, and though the Everfree was a dark and mysterious place of arcane anomalies, she doubted that such a creature could survive in it.

“What do you mean, this thing couldn’t survive in the Everfree, sugarcube?” An orange-coated earth pony, Applejack, questioned, her head tilted at an odd angle as she looked over the strange animal. “The forest is the only place I reckon a critter like this could have come from.”

Twilight shook her head in response, holding up a magnifying glass. “But that doesn’t make sense, Applejack. Look,” she pointed to the creature’s bare flesh. “It doesn’t have any sort of fur besides on its head and on specific parts of its body—the Everfree gets very cold at night, so something like this wouldn’t be able to survive in the forest without heat.”

She trotted over to the other side of the table, her hooves poking at the creature’s chest. “Though, it does look like it’s been in some sort of combat or fight before,” she said, tracing a set of scars. “But that doesn’t make sense either, because these scars look very surgical.” Shaking her head in frustration, Twilight left the body for the time being, turning back to her friends arrayed in front of her. “Do any of you have any idea what this thing is?”

Rarity frowned, raising an eyebrow. “No idea, I’m afraid. But there’s something I don’t get—the poor thing was wearing those drenched clothes, all full of water and mud,” she questioned, her tongue sticking out and her face distorted in disgust. “But it was wearing clothes—why would a random animal from the Everfree be making clothes?”

Indeed, Twilight and her friends had found the strange creature draped in drenched clothing, salty water filling the cloth’s fabrics. Underneath, its flesh had been deathly cold, its bare flesh curious to the touch.

“Maybe,” a soft-spoken voice started, belonging to the demure Fluttershy. “Maybe it’s somepony’s pet, and it got lost.” The yellow pegasus began to fret, pacing back and forth. “Oh, who could have lost the poor thing? It could have gotten hurt!”

“Girls, girls! I know we all have our questions and worries, but for the time being, we need to find a solution to this problem. Spike!” She called, a purple dragon promptly sliding into the room.

“Here, Twilight! Watcha need?”

“Has that letter been sent to Princess Celestia? I think we may need her as soon as possible—who knows what this creature is, and what it’s capable of?”

Spike nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am! She replied pretty quickly, too. The Princess said she’ll be here within the hour.”

Twilight nodded her head in satisfaction, turning back to her meek friend. “Now, Fluttershy, I don’t know if this creature is dangerous, or what it’ll do when it wakes up, but can you do something for me?” Twilight began, smiling warmly at Fluttershy. “You’re good with animals, so can we keep this creature here in your cottage until it wakes up? You could calm it, in case it wakes up confused, scared, or otherwise.”

Fluttershy looked unsure at first, shuffling her hooves before responding. “M-maybe, Twilight. I don’t know?” Fear gripped the pegasus as she looked at the unconscious creature on her dinner table, beginning to tremble. She had no idea what this animal was—she didn’t know if she could handle such a big job!

“I can stay here with you if you need me to, Fluttershy!” A rainbow-maned pegasus exclaimed, holding a hoof around her compatriot’s shoulders. “And if that thing attacks you, I’ll just knock it out!”

At that statement Fluttershy seemed to calm down, somewhat reassured by her bold friend’s words. Turning back to Twilight, Fluttershy nodded timidly, before her eyes caught movement.

The pegasus let out a muted cry, her eyes widening. She pointed towards the creature upon the table, and slowly, and ever so slightly, an arm moved, the digits at the end of the limb twitching madly. Fluttershy’s exclamation of alarm caught the attention of her friends, the arrayed mares turning to face the new development. Twilight gasped, watching closely. The exotic creature awoke slowly, a groan escaping its lips.

James Volker groaned in pain as sensation returned to his body. His arms ached, his skin felt cold, icily painful, and his chest burned in agony. His breaths were short and forced, pained heaves of air pushing out of his lungs. Opening his eyes, James immediately regretted the action, bright rays of light piercing through his eyelids. His mouth tasted like salt, disgustingly so.

He was cold, pained, and confused—where was he?

The deep, dark blue, the coils of bubbles dragging him down into the depths. Death awaited him, the sunken man.

A dry gasp left James’ lips and his eyes snapped open, fear gripping him as he sought to remember where he was. He seemed to be laid down upon a surface, hard, cold, and uneven, soft pricks digging slightly into the bare skin of his back. He shifted his weight, feeling whatever it was beneath him squeak under the pressure. A wooden table, perhaps?

Was he dead? No, he couldn’t have been—the pain he felt seared through his nerves, proving his living status. Then where was he?

Slowly, agonizingly so, James attempted to turn his head, his neck cricking. He seemed to be in a small house, its walls wooden and warm. Holes and gaps filled the walls and floors, small enough for rats or mice, and feathers sat here and there, the room very much akin to a bird’s cage. His gaze blurred, but James gave his eyes a brief rub before shifting his view down to his body.

He was laid upon what seemed to be a coffee table, indeed of cold, dark, wood, and he was dressed in… nothing? Indeed, besides the standard grey of his briefs, he wore nothing and, almost immediately, his senses of modesty took over, his mind blanking. Putting his lack of dress to the side for the time being, James looked to his left, noting the multi-colored figures that stood before him—

Suddenly, James cried in alarm, his eyes widening. Purple, orange, yellow, blue—six animals, seemingly horses of some sort, staring at James with alarmed stares. They almost looked as if they had popped straight out of a child’s picture book, pastel cartoons of a common sort. And yet, they were alive, frighteningly so, and panic began to grip James.

He attempted to scramble off of the table, thoughts of carnivorous horses filling his mind. His breath grew short, urgency and fear apparent in his wheezing. The table collapsed under his strained movement, his body falling to the cold, wooden floor as pain shot through his body. James gasped in discomfort, but he pushed the matter away, clambering to his feet. His hands were splayed out in front of him in an attempt to ward off the colorful creatures, but James tripped over an object, falling back to his rump.

One of the horses, a lavender-coated being with a dangerous-looking horn, gestured to one of the winged ones, pushing it forwards towards James. He gritted his teeth, cornered like an animal, watching the yellow horse with wary. It grew close, and James stared into its eyes, fear and defiance mixed together.

“Um… hello? Are you okay?” Almost immediately, James’ willpower and resolve crumbled, the horse's voice soft and demure.

“It’s okay, there-there. I won’t hurt you.”

James failed to respond, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. The soft-spoken creature seemed to take his cease of movement as a good sign, inching closer. It extended a hoof. “See? There we go, it’s okay. I don’t bite!”

“You—you can talk?” James whispered, his eyes shifting to the pale-gold appendage approaching him.

The winged horse—a pegasus, perhaps—spoke again, its voice soothing and serene. “Well, of course I do. I—” suddenly, its eyes snapped wide, its mouth dropping open as it stared incredulously back at James. “Did you just speak?”

Like a minor stampede, the horse’s companions rushed forwards, their stares unnerving as they observed James. The purple horned one seemed, to James, to be their leader, standing at the forefront of the group. “Wait, what? Fluttershy, did you just hear that?”

Fluttershy, the one that had originally approached James, nodded meekly, backing away slowly from the pale-fleshed creature before her. “Y-yes, Twilight. It… it spoke!”

Nodding, "Twilight" took the lead, nearing James. “Hello? Sir? Can you… can you understand me?” It asked, its voice distinctly feminine. James, still caught off-guard, took a moment to respond, merely nodding his head. The unicorn, upon seeing James’ reply, continued. “Can you speak?”

James’ eyes flicked back and forth over the small party in front of him, his mind bewildered and his nerves numb. Where was he? Some crude, insane imagination of his? Or could this have been heaven, and he had truly died below the Hudson River? Realizing that this… Twilight, he assumed, was still awaiting his answer, he cleared his throat before beginning.

“Ye-yes, I can speak. Where… where am I?” His throat felt dry, like sandpaper, and his voice came out raspy, croaking through his cracked lips. James watched as the collective horses leaned back in surprise, seemingly unable to comprehend his speech. They whispered amongst themselves, unsure how to deal with this new revelation.

Twilight recovered first, looking straight into James’ eyes. “You are in Equestria, in my friend Fluttershy’s cottage.” She gestured towards the gentle pegasus before continuing. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends. Now, your turn. Who are you, and where do you come from?”

The word, the country, Equestria—it felt foreign, unknown, to James’ ears, and he felt well and truly lost. If this land wasn’t some figment of insanity or death, then the ex-marine did not know what it was. Looking back at Twilight, James replied. “My name is James Volker. I’m from… New York City.” Confusion wrought the equine’s expression, and James continued. “In the United States of America?” Still confusion. “Earth?”

The unicorn's face contorted in confusion, her lips pursed. James continued, his mind doubtful and his brain skeptical at his situation. “Am I dead? Dreaming? Or have I gone insane?” He asked, more to himself than his new acquaintances. Twilight, however, shook her head.

“No, we’re very much real. But,” she began. “What’s this Earth you’re talking about? Is it a country?”

James shook his head, disbelieving of Twilight’s answer, yet choosing to amuse his perceived insanity. “No, it’s a planet."

At his answer, Twilight’s eyes bugged out, her mouth letting loose a short whinny of surprise. “What?! You’re from a different planet? World?” She turned around, her movement frantic. “Spike! Take a letter!”

Much to James’ astonishment, a small creature, purple and green, raced forwards, parchment and a quill in his hands—no, claws. James watched as Twilight dictated a letter of some sort, the small, clawed reptile, of sorts, writing presumably what she spoke. After a few moments, they had finished, the reptile holding the letter up in his claws. What was he going to do?

Suddenly, a bright green flame erupted from his mouth, its light partially blinding James. Shock took him as he fell backwards, his face feeling warm. A dragon? Pegasus, unicorns, talking horses, and now dragons? Indeed, James must have been held within a child’s fantasy book—there was no other explanation.

Looking back at the dragon, James noted how the letter had seemingly disappeared—something to note, for later. The creature looked sheepishly at James, Twilight giving it a hard stare. “Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to breathe into your face.”

And, it seemed, the dragon could speak too. At this point, James was hardly surprised—what else did he expect? He nodded his head in response, merely acknowledging the dragon’s apology. James looked back at Twilight, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“So, Twilight, right?” The purple unicorn looked at James, expecting him to continue. “You—you guys aren’t going to eat me, right?”

Twilight looked horrified at James’ question, her expression aghast. “No, of course not! What makes you think that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” James muttered dismissively. “But, who’d you send that letter to? And why?”

“Oh,” Twilight began. “That letter was for Princess Celestia—she’s the ruler of all the ponies in Equestria. I asked her to come here, to Ponyville, so that we could find out what exactly you are, and where you came from. But, for the time being, you need to stay here, where we can keep an eye on you, until Princess Celestia arrives.”

Oh, of course, princesses—expected, at this point, from a place like this. And, apparently, they were not horses, but ponies. Even better. Now, there was nothing else for James to do but wait for this princess Twilight spoke of, and pray that it—she—whatever this Celestia was, decided to let him live—if he was even alive. Most likely, he could not run, as the pegasus could likely catch him with their flight, and the horns the unicorns bore likely had a use—skewering humans, for example.

Still, James had yet one more question—an important one, very much so. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“I need clothing.”

Part I - Chapter Three: Revelations and Greetings

James Volker patted the folded clothing in his hands, feeling the soft cloth with his calloused fingers. The white, button-collared shirt was… warm, he observed, comfortably so, welcoming to the cold flesh of his hands. The pants he had already put on—dress pants, black with blue stripes streaming down the sides—were likewise warm, almost hot, to the touch, its wool trapping heat within the formal trousers. His icy legs had felt absolutely fantastic upon wearing them, and with an absent minded shrug, James pulled on the dress shirt, a small sigh escaping his lips. A lulling warmth entrapped his upper body, soothing his freezing skin. Hopefully, at this rate, he wouldn’t get pneumonia, or anything. In fact, James was still not sure if he was dead, or in an entirely new dimension or world altogether. It was all rather strange, and James had fallen into a state of relative disbelief and fatigue overall.

“Would you like the… jacket too?” A feminine voice asked from James’ front and he looked up, gazing into the lavender eyes of his host—caring, yet cautious. An intriguing combination, to be sure.

“Mmm,” James hummed, patting down his shirt with his hands. “No. I think I’m good, for now, though I’ll keep the jacket myself.” He gave the… pony, he had been informed, a small smile, though his eyes were rather empty, except for a shade of skepticism. It was clear that James had not quite adjusted yet to his new surroundings.

Twilight nodded in response, simply hoofing over the black suit jacket, its blue stripes matching his pants. She turned away, meaning to return outside to where her friends had gathered, but was stopped by James’ question.

“Twilight, if you don’t mind… how did you dry and heat my clothes so quickly?” James asked, his expression much like a curious toddler. Happy to answer, Twilight smiled warmly at James, dipping into her usual lecture-stance.

“Well, James, I used a simple Drying and Heating spell. It’s quite easy, one for beginners.” She explained, watching James with eager. “The spell is really useful for drying yourself off, like after a bath or a rainstorm.”

He raised an eyebrow, a motley mixture of confusion and interest in his eyes. “Spell?” James queried, rolling the word through his mouth like he was testing the taste of a wine. “So… you used… magic, I assume?”

“Yep!” Twilight nodded her head with enthusiasm, her smile growing. “All ponies have magic, but unicorn magic is special in that we use our horns to actively produce magic. On the other hand, Earth pony and Pegasus magic is passive.

James, however, seemed to ignore Twilight altogether. “Magic,” he muttered, testing the word in his mouth. After a moment, James chuckled, a hint of bemused incredulity tinting his laugh—in that sense, it seemed to be more of a sardonic scoff. It was, indeed, somewhat unnerving to Twilight, her smile beginning to fade.

“Why do you ask? Does your… species, I guess, not have magic, James?” Twilight asked, and as James gazed back into her eyes, he could see a bit of innocence within them.

“Well… I guess we do, in a sense,” James began, looking away glumly. “Though, not in the same way you guys do.” Could science be called magic? Technology, perhaps? Or was James simply referring to the smoke-and-mirrors of the so-called “magicians” back home?

Indeed, James realized he did not even know what he was saying himself, and to this extent he sneered at himself internally, though resisting the urge to let it loose.

“Oh, okay,” Twilight responded in turn, her smile returning in full force. ”Well, in that case, I’ll be outside with my friends. Princess Celestia should be here within a few hours, so feel free to get some rest, or something. Call us if you need something!” With that, Twilight trotted out the cottage’s door, closing it softly behind her.

James was silent as Twilight left, a small sigh escaping his lips, and he sat back. His eyes began to wander around the room, absorbing his surroundings.

After their original encounter, James had been moved from the cold, wooden table to a small green sofa, whereupon Twilight had proceeded to return to him his clothing. The rest of Twilight’s friends had left the cottage, leaving the two of them in private for a brief time while they began to discuss James—or, rather, James suspected they were discussing him. Now that he was alone, James finally had a chance to fully observe the cottage he was within. Of course, he had seen the holes and gaps that had filled the floorboards and the walls, as well as the feathers that had littered the area, already. Now, however, James took the time to inspect the room further.

Bird cages, he assumed hung here and there, a variety of feathers filling their padded insides. Within the walls were shelves upon shelves of books, their spines detailing such titles as “Caring for your Smallest Pets,” “Tender Love for Bigger Creatures,” or “The Best Medicine for your Sickly Bird.” Behind James sat a window, small leaves carved into its sides, and further to his left was a painting of a pink butterfly. Vines, both painted and real, hung down from a nearby doorway, and the small tables placed around the living room seemed to resemble carved plants, vegetation intrinsic to their oaken details. Upon one of the tables sat a wooden bowl, a pleasing aroma drifting towards him. He took in the scent of tomatoes, spinach, and white bean mixed together, causing a gentle, easily ignorable rumble to echo from his stomach. All in all, James observed, the cottage seemed to represent nature and wildlife. A curious fact, to be sure. Fluttershy, the cottage's owner, was evidently attuned to flora and fauna.

Of course, they had thought he was an animal at first, amusingly enough. James scoffed, an amused smirk creeping up his face. There was, however, not much else for him to do. His muscles ached with fatigue, his eyes already heavy—the situation of a new world altogether was a weighty burden, and James did not know how much longer he could cope with the pure insanity of his state. Laying back into the sofa, James closed his eyes with a low sigh, letting his dreams take him.

It was white—all white, it seemed, almost blindingly so to James. Depth and distance seemed to have no hold, and the ground below him—if it could even be called ground—felt much like marble under his feet. Opening his mouth in mild shock and curiosity, James gazed around his newfound surroundings. Where on Earth was he now?

“You have no idea where you are, do you, Volker?” A voice, a deep voice, familiar and easily recognizable to James’ ears, rang from behind him. A fearful chill scrambled like a tarantula down his back, and James whirled around, his eyes wide with shock and dread.

James’ mouth fell open, his body leaning back involuntarily. A dark-skinned face, sand-caked lips and a soft nose adorning the spots below two orbs of emotion, equally spaced. Brown irises stared back at James, alight with amusement and care.

“No, no, what?” James muttered, his eyes continuing downwards. The being wore a uniform, covered in dirt and mud, and a mark, a triple chevron over a rocker encapsulating two crossed rifles, sat on the shoulder. A nametag, a white nametag, glittered with mud, sand, and grime, gleamed back at him, but its text was still clear, still legible, and beside it sat a gaping hole, a dark, angry red splattered across. James read the nametag, and astonishment filled him. He stepped back once, twice, his gaze snapping back to the face.

“Sergeant Winston?” James tested, his voice sounding meek and timid. “Sarge?”

He was met with silence, as the dead man in front of him merely smiled at James with warmth.

James tried again, his right hand raising up. His fingers extended towards the man. “Winston?”

Silence.

“C-Christopher? Chris?” Slowly, ever so slowly, the calloused tips of his fingers made contact with the dead man’s chest, feeling the worn texture of the uniform. “Is that you, Chris?”

“Indeed it is, Volker,” the corpse spoke again, its voice deep and gravelly. “Who the hell did you think I was, James?” Its mouth slowly curled into a smile, grains of sand falling from its lips.

“But,” James stuttered. “You’re—you’re dead, Chris! You’ve been dead, since Iraq—how the hell am I talking to you now?”

The cadaver, Chris, merely tilted his head and shrugged, his smile slowly morphing into a smirk. “Can’t tell you that, James.”

The two men remained in silence for several seconds, before another question popped into James’ mind.

“Then… if you’re dead… and I’m talking to you… does that mean that I’m dead too?” Though his question was solemn, it carried with it a shade of hope, nearly unrecognizable.

The deceased sergeant did not respond for several moments, merely looking sadly into James’ eyes. “I’m afraid not, James. You’re still very much alive,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry.”

James’ eyes sparked with incredulity, his hand falling from Chris’ chest. “Sorry? You’re sorry?” He shouted, his voice growing cracking with anger and regret. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I got you killed! I, I, I screwed up, I friggin’ screwed up, and got both you and Johnny killed! Why the hell are you sorry?”

Chris raised an eyebrow in response, his eyes sorrowful. “You nearly died yourself, James. Aren’t you thankful? That you got to live?”

James stared back at the dead man for a few moments, before dropping his gaze altogether, a hand reaching for his face. “Yeah, I did live. Barely.” James muttered, his frown growing. “But I don’t even know if any good came out of it. Besides, I can barely breathe anymore. Lungs are all messed up.”

The two men relapsed back into silence, both of them looking away into the endless white. After several lengthy moments, Christopher spoke again, turning back to James.

“How’re you doing, James? Everything alright back home?”

Though James was not quite sure about speaking with his deceased friend and mentor, he decided to entertain the sergeant, nodding slightly. “It’s been… alright. I decided to become a teacher after getting back to the states,” he said, shrugging. “I want to get kids away from the same mistakes I made. I told you about my youth, right Chris?”

The dark-skinned man nodded, a grin reaching across his lips. “Yeah, you did. Hard-headed kid, did some bad stuff, got into trouble, and later joined the Marine Corps. Typical story, I got you.”

“Yeah,” James began, continuing on. “So I became a history teacher at a highschool in Brooklyn. Good kids, lemme tell you. Don’t think I’ll see them ever again, though.” James muttered, looking down.

“And what about now? Do you realize where you are now?”

James turned to face Christopher, his brows furrowed. “I have no idea where I am now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I, uh, recently woke up in some… fantasy land, almost like it came out of a little girl’s television show or something. Talking horses, ponies, or whatever, magic—the whole shebang.” James said, his tone molding into that of a frustrated ramble. “I don’t know if I’ve gone insane, or if I’m dead—though you told me I’m still alive. Thing is, Chris, I just don’t know.”

James ended his rant, looking into his dead friend’s eyes. Christopher, however, beheld an amused expression, almost omniscient, as he returned James’ gaze.

“What? You know something I don’t, Chris?” James demanded, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

The marine sergeant nodded slowly, his mouth curling to the side in a mischievous smirk. “James, you’ve pushed forwards all this way, to get to where you are now, right?”

Unsure of where his friend was headed with his question, James tilted his head in confusion. “Of course I have, Chris. Where are you going with this?”

“James,” Christopher began, placing a hand on James’ shoulder. “Whatever happens within these next few days, weeks, months—whatever happens, keep pushing forwards. You haven’t given up all this time, have you?”

“Chris, the hell do you mean? I’m not giving up anytime soon—at least, once I find out where the hell I am.”

“I can assure you, James, that the world you found yourself in is very much real,” Christopher explained cryptically, before turning away. “Just keep pushing forwards. Now, I have to head off—places to be, people to see, you understand.”

James’ eyes widened, his arm reaching out towards Christopher, seemingly attempting to hold the man back. “No, wait! Chris, I still have some questions! What do you mean by real? And why are you telling me to keep pushing?”

“I’ll talk to you later, James. Seems your newfound friends are trying to wake you up.” Christopher’s voice faded slowly, the white expanse around them melting away. “Time to get up, Private Volker.”

“No!” James shouted, attempting to chase his friend, yet finding that he could not move his legs. “Chris, wait! No! C’mon, man, wait!”

His cries were met with a dead, cold silence.

“Wait!” James shouted, flying up into a sitting position. His head slammed into something hard, and James snarled in pain, a hand flying to his forehead as he squinted shut his eyes.

“Ow!” James looked up, opening his eyes to see that Twilight Sparkle, his new acquaintance, was reeling away from his sofa, holding her head in pain.

“Ow… are you okay, James?” She asked, carefully opening an eye. “Wait for what?”

James rubbed his smarting head as he returned Twilight’s stare. “Ah, sorry Twilight,” he replied, turning to face the pony. “Don’t worry about it, just a dream.” He caught a flash of white in the corner of his eye, and shifted his gaze just in time to see a tiny mass of white fur scurry out of sight.

“Oh,” Twilight began. “Well, do you want to talk about it?” Her tilted at an angle, concern filling her expression.

James shook his head in response, waving a hand dismissively. “No, it’s fine. But did you need something? Why’d you wake me up?”

Twilight nodded her affirmation, smiling at James. “Mhm! Princess Celestia is due to arrive any second now, and the others are still outside. I was hoping you’d come outside with us, to greet the Princess.”

Letting out a low sigh, James stood up from the sofa. He took a second or two to twist his back, his joints letting out a loose ‘pop’. Turning to look down at Twilight, he noted that he stood a good several heads above her. James smiled down at the mare, who had adopted a cringe upon witnessing James crack his back, and extended a hand towards the door.

“Lead the way, Twilight,” James offered politely. Twilight nodded, trotting towards the door and opening it. James took a moment to lick his dry lips, feeling their cracked surface, before following Twilight out the door.

James hissed as he left the cottage, the afternoon sun beaming down into his eyes. The smell of freshly-cut grass filled his nose, a clean, fresh emerald aroma. He held an arm over his forehead and shut his eyes in an effort to block out the dastardly light. Something gently touched his leg, and he looked down.

“You okay, sugarcube?” The pony next to him asked, her coat a rich, earthy orange and a mid-western styled hat upon her head. Her accent mildly surprised James, the man not expecting her southern-American drawl. “You’ve been cooped up inside that cottage for so long, I don’t reckon your eyes are takin’ too kindly to Celestia’s sun.”

James took a moment to note that the pony had said “Celestia’s sun,” wondering what that phrase could particularly mean, before responding. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

The pony smiled back at him, her teeth shining like polished ivory in the sun’s light. “Gotcha.” She held out a hoof, gesturing for the human to shake it. “My name’s Applejack, if you were wonderin’.”

After a moment of hesitation, James grasped the hoof, shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Applejack. I’m James—"

“Girls!” Twilight interrupted him, holding out a hoof towards the sky as a wide smile crept across her lips. “The Princess is here!”

James let go of Applejack’s hoof, looking up into the sky. He squinted, still adjusting to the sun’s glow, before noticing a certain dot above them, growing closer and closer by the second. Staring closely at it, James realized that it was not a singular object, but instead two equine figures, pulling along what looked to be a carriage.

The carriage was made of a stark-white frame, cushions of purple and gold lining the interior. Its wheels seemed to be crafted of gold, the violet spokes surrounding what seemed to be a carving of a sun. The carriage was topped by a star and a banner, and within sat a large white horse, or pony—whichever of the two, James honestly did not know at this point—her kaleidoscopic mane flowing like silk in the wind.

It came to a stop above the group, slowly descending to the ground. The wheels of the carriage touched the green grass, and James noticed the various mares around him bowing down, in a sign of respect and obedience. Unsure of how to proceed himself, James went to bend down, before stopping altogether—would this princess take his lack of knowledge as a sign of ignorance or disrespect? Royalty, after all, were not always painted as kind and charitable people back on earth.

And how did Twilight and her friends personally know this princess? Were they royalty themselves? Or were they simply well connected, perhaps even courtiers to the throne? James pinched his nose, frustrated at his lack of knowledge.

His thoughts were brashly interrupted as a soft clip clop sound reached his ears, and James snapped his eyes forwards, finding his neck and back at an awkward angle. To his front were three sets of legs, all an icy white, yet one of them more… feminine, James assumed, than the others. Slowly, ever so slowly, James shifted his view upwards.

“Arise, my little ponies.” a regal voice said, feminine in nature, powerful and authoritative. James’ eyes widened as he came face to face with the one who, he assumed, would judge his future in this new world. She bore large, pearly wings, their breadth wider than that of James’ arms, and the horn upon her head was long and terrifyingly sharp. Her eyes, a striking royal purple, stared back at him, their gaze hard and adjudicative.

“Princess Celestia!” A voice cried, and James watched, both curiously and fearfully, as Twilight Sparkle rushed towards the royal horse-pony, her eyes alight with joy, familiarity, and happiness. The princess moved her intimidating stare to the comparatively small unicorn, and for a second James’ heart stopped, his mind fearing that the sovereign of the ponies would blast Twilight away. The princess's eyes had changed, however, their cold, critical glare replaced by a sincere, soothing, motherly regard.

“Twilight Sparkle! It’s so good to see you again! How have you been, my student?” The princess said light-heartedly, her melodic voice fluttering in the breeze like a piccolo flute. James found himself desperately fighting the urge to smile. His unicorn acquaintance established greetings with the regal princess, her voice bursting with love and admiration. Seemingly like mentor and pupil, the two spoke warmly to each other.

“Oh, I’ve been great!” Twilight began, turning to gesture towards the rest of the mares. “My friends and I have had some fun adventures since the last time we saw each other, Celestia. I assume you got all of my letters?”

Princess Celestia nodded. “That’s so good to hear, Twilight. And I assume nothing has been amiss since your return from the Crystal Empire? Cadence and your brother already seem to miss you.”

Twilight chuckled nervously at the question, rubbing a hoof with another. She looked away with an anxious grin on her face. “Well, nothing too major, princess… just…” Her gaze shifted slowly to a cheerful pink pony with a mane that reminded James of cotton-candy. In turn, the bubbly mare laughed heartily.

Twilight looked back at the princess, grinning wide. “How are they, by the way? Auntie Cadence and Shining?”

Celestia giggled at her student, as if sharing some inside joke. “Oh, they’re doing alright,” she said, leaning close to Twilight with a hoof cupped around her mouth. “If you ask me, they’re adjusting to the north a little too quickly.”

The two ponies shared a laugh, and James raised an eyebrow, a small, uncertain smile inching onto his mouth. Indeed, it wasn’t really every day you witnessed a person—pony, in this case, of royal character act much like a sister, mother, or otherwise kindly female figure towards those that were, ultimately, her subjects. Returning his attention to the conversation, James listened closely to the princess’ next words.

“Now, Twilight, though I must admit it’s been fun catching up, we do have business to take care of here,” she explained, her warm, familial gaze slowly morphing back into that of an icy, dire nature as she looked back at the subject in question. Chills flowed down James’ back as the royal princess slowly marched past Twilight and her friends, approaching him steadily. Each step rang with a melodious tone, the golden armor on the princess’ hooves seemingly singing with music. James’ nose caught the scent of lilac and strawberries, the normally pleasant fragrance wafting towards him from the winged unicorn.

James, however, found the combination of sound and aroma rather intimidating at the current moment.

“Namely, that of an unknown, sentient creature that you have found, my dear Twilight Sparkle.”

Part I - Chapter Four: The Princess

James Volker stared dumbly at the cup of hot, steaming tea before him, his mind inert, yet feeling much like it was being dragged along by a stock car. Silently, he licked his parched lips, feeling their cracked, dry surface. James dared not make a sound, and his eyes burned as he strained to keep them open in an attempt to hide his anxiety and tension.

Sip.

James’ eyes flicked upwards, glancing at the monarch before him. She drank from her own cup, regal in nature and character, her sips like a metronome. The scent of lilac and strawberries mingled with the pleasant aroma of the herbal tea, pleasing James’ nose. The royal pony’s gaze pierced into James, and he averted his eyes, pursing his lips.

Sip.

As he looked outside, James swore he could see the silhouettes of several equine figures gathered outside the window, their low whispers almost inaudible. They seemed worried, though their words were hushed and muted. James acknowledged that while he had done nothing to garner their care, the ponies that had tended to him simply seemed to be the sort to help those in need.

“So, Twilight tells me that your name is James Volker,” the voice of the princess interrupted James’ thoughts, and he slowly turned to face the royal equine, her violet eyes judicious in nature. “And that you are, indeed, a sentient creature. Is this true?”

He unwittingly straightened his back. “Yes, ma’am, that is my name.”

“And you call yourself a human? Am I correct?” The princess asked, her lips pursing.

James nodded his head, unsure of where she was headed with her questions. “I am a human, yes.”

Gingerly, Princess Celestia placed the cup of tea down on the table, the golden aura of magic around it dissipating as the china gave a high-pitched clink. Celestia’s eyes narrowed, and the princess leaned closer to James from across the table.

“I will get straight to the matter at hoof, Mister Volker,” she said, her tone threatening. “Why are you here? And how did a human like you arrive in Equestria?”

Uncertain of how exactly to respond, James gave a half-hearted shrug, his mouth curling into a confused frown. “I’m… not quite sure myself, your… majesty,” he said, the last word rolling awkwardly out of his mouth. “One second I was… falling, I guess, and the next, I was here, in a fountain.”

His answer was clearly not what the princess was looking for, and her eyes continued to narrow, betraying her displeasure. “Tell me the truth, human,” Celestia spat vehemently. “I know your kind—you always have some ulterior motive. Who sent you here, and for what?” The princess’s horn began to glow, an intimidating gold emanating from it. “If you’re lying to me, I guarantee you won’t like the results.”

James’ eyes widened as he leaned back, alarm setting in. Genuine confusion filled his expression. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am, I’m just a teacher! I wasn’t sent by anyone!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up in an effort to present innocence. Fear welled up inside him, and James readied himself to scramble away, in case Celestia rejected his answer.

The princess gauged him with her piercing eyes, her gaze judicious and adjudicative. For what seemed like an eternity the two faced off, the human terrified beyond his wits as he stared down the point of Celestia’s sharp horn. Finally, however, the glow around the princess’s horn dissipated with a low hiss, the winged unicorn sitting back as her visage lost some of its menacing nature.

“Alright,” Celestia began, a small huff escaping her lips. “I can tell you’re not lying.”

James exhaled a sigh of relief, moving a hand to his chest in an effort to soothe his frantically beating heart and his straining lungs. “That’s good. Thought you were going to blast me for a second there—“

“But the question still stands,” the diarch interrupted James, her magic once again encapsulating her teacup. “As to how you arrived here. Tell me everything.”

Realizing that he still wasn’t in the clear, James gulped, before embarking upon his story.

“Well, it all started at the school I teach at, around midday…”

As James finished his tale, he could not help but notice that the princess’s eyes had ceased their glares, her violet irises still hard yet betraying the caring nature beneath them. Her mouth had creased into a small frown and, overall, her expression was that of intense focus and thought.

“So, I swam up to the light, certain that I was going to drown in the river bay, but…” James said, his hands placed evenly on the table. “When I surfaced, I was in a fountain, surrounded by these… ponies.”

Celestia nodded, seemingly in understanding. “Hm,” she hummed. “This is… most peculiar. And I can tell that you’re telling the truth.”

“I am—at least, I think I am. Honestly, Princess, I’m not quite sure if I’m dead, or if I’m still hallucinating. This is all really surreal to me.”

“I assure you James,” Celestia raised her hooves in front of her, gesturing towards James. “That this is all very real. But, it still begs the question, how did you arrive in Equestria?”

James shrugged in response, completely at a loss. The two fell into silence, one deep in deliberation and contemplation, and the other trying his best to keep his abject terror under wraps.

What was he to do, then? James was, for all intents and purposes, stuck, stranded, a castaway in a world that he would have never believed existed—a world of technicolor equines and cartoonish figures. He had no idea what had sent him into this… realm of existence, and though he welcomed the escape from death, he did not, at all, welcome the utter sense of isolation and confusion that came with his dimension-jump.

Then, an idea came to him, and James cleared his throat, looking up at Princess Celestia. “Ma’am, if I may, I have a question, or two.”

“Yes?” Celestia prompted, an eyebrow raised. “Go on.”

“Well,” James began, “you’re the ruler of this land, yes? There’s no king, queen, or otherwise?”

Celestia nodded her head. “Indeed, I am, along with my sister, Princess Luna. Where are you going with this?”

James held up a hand. “Just a second, ma’am. I, uh, assume that you and your sister would be the most powerful users of… magic? In Equestria?”

“Yes, we are. Why, pray tell, are you asking me this, James?”

“Then, by all rights... could you, and your sister, send me back? Using your fancy magic? Back to where I came from?” James finally asked, a small measure of hope glimmering from within him.

“And where, exactly, did you come from?” Celestia questioned in turn.

At her question, confusion wrought James—how would she have known about humans, if she did not know where they came from? Despite that, James pressed on. “Well, if you’re talking about my… world, I guess I come from a planet we call Earth. In the Milky Way Galaxy.”

Celestia frowned in response, bemusement in her eyes. “Those words and names are foreign to me. Besides,” she took another sip of her tea before continuing. “I couldn’t send you back. Not now, at least.”

James’ hopes fell, and gloom began to set within him. “Why’s that? Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, teleport me back to Earth, or something?” he asked.

The princess shook her head, setting her teacup down. “Because, James, without proper knowledge on the destination, there’s no telling where you’d end up if we were to send you back. A spell to return you to this, what, Earth, in one piece, would require months, if not years, of research. This also does not account for the shifts in the magical winds, the displacement of dimensions, or other such matters.”

 Despite James’ plummeting hopes, another question came to  him, and he raised an unsteady finger. “How do you know about humans, anyhow? If you don’t know what Earth is?”

Celestia shook her head in response, apparently unwilling to answer. “That’s a question that I’m loathe to answer, James. All you need to know is that Equestria has not had the most…pleasurable, of encounters with humanity.”

James’ mouth began to hang open, utter befuddlement welling up inside him. How? How would this cartoon-land have had contact with humans? Did humans exist outside of Earth? And what did Celestia mean by not pleasurable?

The princess began to rise from her seat, her movements graceful. James made to stand as well, but a gesture from Celestia stopped him. “Stay, James. But, I have one more question for you.”

“Yeah?”

Celestia cleared her throat, a small, mischievous smile beginning to creep its way up her mouth. “You said you were a teacher back on Earth?”

“Yes, I was. High-school history, in fact.”

Celestia nodded her head, humming a small tune. She walked slowly to the door of the cottage. Stopping before it, her horn lit with gold-colored magic, and with a low creak, the door swung open, revealing Twilight and her friends.

“Twilight Sparkle!” Celestia exclaimed, her smile returning in force as she gazed down upon her pupil. “Have you been eavesdropping?”

The unicorn’s eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously, a nervous smile upon her face. “N-no, princess! Not at all!”

Celestia giggled, stepping to the side. “Why don’t you and your friends come in? James and I have had our talk.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Twilight nodded her head. She stepped into the cottage, her eyes meeting James’ as she grinned happily at him. When the rest of her friends had followed her in, Twilight looked back up at the princess, a questioning look on her face.

“So, princess? Have you found out how James got here?”

“I have a few ideas,” Celestia replied, briefly closing her eyes in thought. “But, my dear Twilight Sparkle, I think I have another task for you. Think of it as… a project. Hm?”

Twilight’s mouth fell open, panic beginning to set in as she chuckled nervously. “A-a project? What would that be? I’m afraid I’m not very prepared, princess!”

Celestia shook her head, her gentle smile widening. “I don’t expect you would have been, Twilight. But, it involves James here.”

James looked up, his attention piqued. Celestia continued, “I want you to take James in, and teach him all about Equestria, and introduce him to all of your friends in Ponyville. In return, I want you to learn as much as you can from James about his own species and world. He was a teacher, after all.” The princess giggled as Twilight’s eyes widened, a swirling combination of excitement and dismay evident in her figure. “Yes, Twilight, James Volker does indeed come from an entirely different world. But, can you do that for me?”

Twilight nodded energetically, a wide smile spreading across her mouth. “Yes, Princess Celestia! I can do that! When do we begin?”

Visibly gladdened by Twilight’s enthusiasm, Celestia chuckled. “Whenever possible—preferably tomorrow, since you’ll need time for James to settle in, first.”

James attempted to raise a hand, wanting to proclaim his lack of input on the matter, but Twilight interrupted him, her voice rising in pitch ever so steadily. “Okay! Yes ma’am, we can do that! I won’t disappoint you, princess!”

The princess nodded her head, turning around to leave through the door. “Now, I’m afraid I have to take my leave.” She cupped a hoof around her mouth, as if sharing some secret. “Duty calls, and I’m afraid Luna will be quite displeased if I’m not back by the time she raises the moon. Goodbye, everypony!”

Twilight and her friends bowed down, watching silently. Princess Celestia boarded her carriage, and with a powerful gust of wind, her two guards took off, carrying the princess away as they returned to Canterlot. After a moment of silence, James cleared his throat, gingerly raising a hand.

“I… I didn’t agree to this.”

Part I - Chapter Five: Home and Hearth

“So, this is your home?”

James Volker raised an eyebrow, a slight frown furrowing his brow. He swirled his gaze around the inside of the unusually large tree, his eyes catching sight of the interior’s particulars.

The home, Twilight’s home, had the peculiar detail of being, well… a tree. At first, James had been curious with, as well as unnerved by, the oddity of the house. Upon entering, however, they had been greeted by a mixture of scents; the smell of parchment and ink dominating his senses, along with the homely atmosphere of books, both old and new.

As his eyes took in the interior of Twilight’s home, James could not help but think academia. Books, quills, bottles of ink, scrolls upon scrolls, some tools of a scientific nature that James could not understand upon first sight—yes, Twilight was obviously a scholarly sort.

“Yes!” Twilight replied, trotting easily into the center of the room. “Welcome to Golden Oak Library! Besides being my home, it’s also the town’s library.”

James's eyebrows rose and the proclamation, his accompanied frown giving off an expression of approval. “Oh, that’s nice,” he said, following Twilight in. Behind him, Rarity joined them, the only one of Twilight’s friends to have accompanied Twilight and James—the others had all dispersed, having their own responsibilities to take care of.

“Oh, I keep telling her that she needs to do something with the place,” Rarity said, her voice toned by her typical socialite accent. “It’s so… drab.”

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Twilight grumbled, having obviously heard her friend’s complaints before. “I like it just the way it is—a library doesn’t need to lookhaute couture, as you call it.”

“Haute propriété in this case, Twilight, and I disagree. Absolutely, a home of somepony of your ilk must be—“

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” James intervened, stepping between Rarity and Twilight. The fashionista frowned at him, the makings of a small glare beginning to form in her eyes, but James ignored it. “But, Twilight, where am I going to sleep?”

Twilight smiled at him, her eyes bright. “Feel free to take the guest room,” she said, motioning to a room to the side. “There’s a bed and a light in there, so just put your stuff in there.”

James frowned, taking a moment to look down over himself. Besides his now ragged and ripped suit, he had… nothing. Not even his beloved watch, which had disappeared at some point or other. He looked back at Twilight, displeasure evident on his face.

“Oh, that’s right,” Twilight cringed, looking away. “You don’t have any stuff… and you said humans need clothing, right?”

James simply nodded in response, not wanting to repeat what he had explained to Twilight and her friends after the princess, Celestia, departed.

“Yeah, those clothes aren’t going to last you any longer…”

Rarity stepped forwards, a large grin stretching across her mouth. “And this is where I come in, Twilight!”

James grunted, turning to look at Rarity. “What do you mean? Can you help?”

“Mmhm! I am a seamstress and fashion designer, after all, and I’ve always wanted to design clothing for something besides a pony. It’s a chance to test my skills.” Rarity flittered her eyes up at James, seemingly attempting to coerce him. “Meet me at my shop tomorrow at noon, so I can get your measurements.”

“But I haven’t agreed to anything,” James replied dubiously. “And whatever money you have here in Equestria, I don’t have any of it, so I wouldn’t be able to pay you.”

Rarity shook her head, a giggle escaping her lips. “Nonsense, dear, it’s all on me. I do like to be generous; I am the bearer of the Element of Generosity, after all.”

“The Element of what now?”

The unicorn, however, ignored him, turning around and making to leave. “Now, Twilight, I’m sorry to be a bother, but I’ll be making my departure now. Ta-ta!” Rarity opened the door with her magic, waving back with her hoof. James watched her leave, before turning back to the other pony still present.

“Twilight?”

She looked at him, her smile still present. “Yes, James?”

“What now?” he turned away, looking once more over the library. His eyes glazed over the various books within their shelves, skimming through their titles. “Is there anything else we need to do? I’m… pretty tired, actually.”

Twilight chuckled, turning away from James and making towards a table that sat in the middle of the library. “Not much else to do, really. I don’t want to introduce you to the rest of Ponyville just yet—I don’t want to cause any panic,” she explained, her horn now glowing with an arcane sheen as a number of books began to float off of their shelves. “And I think we should begin our… cultural exchange, tomorrow, after you meet Rarity. So, all that’s really left is dinner.”

“Which is when?” James asked, feeling his stomach. Indeed, now that he had realized it, he felt quite hungry—enough to, perhaps, eat a table.

Twilight giggled again, aware of James’ hunger. “Oh, as soon as my assistant, Spike, arrives with the groceries. Which should be about…”

Knock knock knock.

“About now,” Twilight trotted over to the door, her magic glowing. The door swung open, and outside stood a small creature, purple in color, with green scales that lined its head, back, and tail. James raised a brow, eyeing the multitudes of brown bags within its claws. Vaguely, yes, James remembered this creature—it had been the one to send that first letter to the princess. A dragon, if he recalled correctly.

“Thanks, Twilight,” the dragon said, his voice akin to that of a young male teenager. “I’ve got the groceries, but you probably already know that, and—huh?!”

He jumped back, his eyes wide in alarm as he dropped the bags within his arms. The dragon, Spike, he assumed, raised a claw, pointing straight at James. “Twilight, what the heck is that?!”

Twilight frowned down at Spike, smacking his head lightly with a hoof. “Spike, calm down. This is James—you saw him back at Fluttershy’s cottage, remember?”

James raised a hand, waving it lazily at the dragon. “Hey.”

Spike stared at James for several moments, silence reigning within the library, until he finally tipped his head back, his mouth open in an ‘o’ shape.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I remember you,” he said, nodding at James. “What’s up? You weren’t looking too good earlier. Are you okay now?”

James smiled at the young dragon, nodding back. “Yeah, I’m alright now. Thanks for asking.” He looked back at Twilight. “Now, what’s for dinner?”

Twilight made to reply, but stopped, an eyebrow slowly cocking upwards. “Actually, first of all, James, I have a question for you.”

“I might have an answer. What is it?”

Twilight stepped closer to James, looking not into his eyes, but into his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that you have canines,” she queried, her tone of voice unsure. “Are humans… carnivores?”

Ah, yes. That would be a problem. James resisted the urge to smack himself in the face, having forgotten that ponies were, in fact, herbivores. Their diets, and those of humans, would not completely overlap.

James’ smile wavered, shaking his head at Twilight. “Well, not quite. Humans are omnivores, so we eat food from both plants and… animals.” He chuckled hesitantly, gauging Twilight’s visual response.

Twilight, for her part, did not dither, frowning up at James. “So, you can still eat plants, right? Because, I’m not sure anypony would be happy with you eating meat around here. Is hay acceptable? Flowers? Can humans eat grass?”

A little part of James died inside, before he responded. “Well, yes, we can eat plants, so I’ll be happy to… remove meat from my diet for now… though I’ll have to replace it with something else.”

Steak, it seemed, would be a pleasure to be forgotten for the time being, as would barbecue and grills. Very unfortunate, to say the least.

“But no,” he continued, eager to move on. "Humans can’t digest hay, or flowers, or… grass, for that matter.”

“Then are apples okay? Bread? What about eggs?”

James nodded, showing his affirmation. “Yeah, those are fine. I take it that’s what you’ve got in those bags?”

“Yep,” Twilight replied, her horn beginning to glow as she picked up the groceries. “I’m sorry, James, but besides some flowers and hay, that’s all we’ve got for tonight.” She looked up apologetically at him.

“It’s alright,” James assured her, smiling down warmly at the unicorn. “We can go over what I can and can’t eat tomorrow, with that culture exchange thing you were talking about. For the time being, though, I’m starving.”

Twilight returned James’ grin, promptly leaving through a side door. “Spike! Come on, it’s time to cook.”

“Coming Twilight!” The dragon said, leaving James alone in the library. James stood quietly for several moments, giving a half-hearted shrug, before making his way towards the guest room.

Some rest was in order, until the food was ready.

James bit into the sandwich in his hands, savoring the taste of toast, eggs, lettuce, and cheese. The food was delightful, to say the least, especially to his famished state of being, and though he would have preferred to have had at least some meat within his dinner, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“Is it good?” Twilight asked from his right, and James swiveled slightly on his chair, noting that his seat was a tad bit too small to fit him comfortably.

James swallowed the food, enjoying the warm, filling sensation. “Yeah, it’s good, Twilight,” he replied, grinning at her. “You’re a pretty good cook, I’ve gotta give you that.”

Twilight’s cheeks reddened, a sheepish expression upon her face as an abash smile crept across her mouth. “Eh heh, this is really easy to make, it’s just toast and eggs… and besides, Spike did most of the work.”

“But it’s still good,” James assured her. “Don’t put yourself down, Twilight.”

“No dude,” James turned upon hearing Spike speak. “You don’t wanna know what happens when Twilight cooks on her own.” The dragon promptly bit into a large jewel of some sort, and James looked back at his sandwich, ignoring the absurdity of a dragon eating a gem.

“It can’t be that bad,” he said, taking another satisfying bite out of his dinner.

To his sides, Spike simply laughed to himself, apparently reminiscing upon humorous incident in the past, whilst Twilight groaned, looking away.

“Well, if you call making a bowl of soup implode suddenly start squawking like a chicken ‘not bad,’” Spike said between fits of laughter. “Twilight’s also managed to give her friends food poisoning several times in the past. They have an agreement to never let her cook for them.”

James immediately stopped eating his sandwich, looking at it analytically, with a new sense of fear. After a moment, he shrugged, biting into it once more.

“Doesn’t bother me,” James said, voraciously wolfing down his dinner.

Twilight and Spike both chuckled, and the three relapsed into silence, preferring to eat in peace as each reflected on the events of the day. After some time, Twilight coughed, standing up from her seat with her dish in her arcane grasp.

“Well, it’s about time for me to head off. I’ve got some important things to do before I go to bed, and I shouldn’t waste any more time,” she said, before turning to James with a gentle smile. “I’ll likely see you again tomorrow morning, James, so have a good night.”

James nodded in response, simply electing to watch Twilight ascend up the flight of stairs. He looked back at Spike, an eyebrow raised.

“And you, Spike? Are you done too?”

The young dragon nodded, picking up the arrayed silverware and plates. “Yeah, but I’ve got to do the dishes first. Night, James.” Spike walked towards the kitchen, carrying the various dishes with him.

Now alone, James sat silently for several moments, before standing up himself. It was much too early for him to sleep, but, at least some self-reflection was in order before he pitched in for the night.

Perhaps the morrow would bring with it some clarity to his situation.

Princess Celestia nibbled absentmindedly on her pastry, small flecks of bread and cake falling down to her plate as the diarch dwelled on her thoughts. Slowly, she put the sweet confectionary down, her blank, violet eyes simply directed out the open window of her private room.

It was a cold night, and a chill breeze swooshed in through the window, causing Celestia’s spectral mane to wave like a veil. Her sister, Luna, had raised the moon some hours before, and although Celestia was proud of her long-lost sibling, eager to see her reintegrated into modern Equestrian society, Celestia could not help but direct most of her mind towards matters more recent in time.

Namely, that of a particular human, the first of his race to lay his feet upon Equestria in a long, long time.

Though she felt, in her heart, that James Volker, the teacher, had been telling the truth, Celestia’s mind drifted towards the endless possibilities. At first, she had thought the man was an intruder—reconnaissance, perhaps, for a much larger force of humans that would, one day soon, pick up where their forebears had left off. The issue in that theory lay in the fact that James had defied all expectations Celestia would have had for a human of Har’yagul—she had thought he would be devious, scheming from the very start to fulfill some ulterior, menacing motive of his. Though all traces of mankind had been thoroughly erased long ago from Equestria’s records, Celestia remembered all too well their sinister ways.

Yet, James had been sincere, perhaps even honest to a fault—something that one of the Elements, Applejack, had clearly approved of. His plain terror and anxiety of being dropped into a new world had been genuine and, frankly, Celestia could see that he felt very much like a cornered animal in Equestria—though it seemed the human did not quite understand his own psychological thoughts or feelings on the matter yet.

There was, also, the matter that James did not possess the signature appearance of the humans Celestia was quite familiar with—pale, almost sickly skin, dark hair, the deep, ominously blue eyes, and their fanciful fashion of swooping cloaks and coats over ruffled and puffy formal wear. No, instead, James had been of a somewhat darker tone of flesh, as if having been thoroughly sunburnt in the past, cool, brown hair, and green eyes that foretold of care and melancholy. His ragged fashion had clearly once been a full, modern suit, albeit tailored for humans—items of clothing that no human she knew would have worn.

No, it was becoming clearer and clearer that James did not, in fact, hail from the same group of humans that once, long ago, tormented her little ponies. But the question still stood, and so she had decided to, once again, enlist the aid of her student, Twilight Sparkle.

Celestia’s orders for Twilight had all been contained within a letter she had sent not but a couple of hours before. Under the guise of a formal cultural exchange, Twilight would learn just where, exactly, this man had come from, and what his own people were like. That information would be brought to Celestia, and if all evidence pointed to James of having come from a benign civilization, she would let him be, and quickly fashion a way for him to return home, if he so desired.

Of course, if that were not the case, then she would crush him under her hooves, quickly and cleanly.

Knock knock.

Celestia turned, drawn out from her thoughts by the rhythmic sound of a hoof knocking upon her door. With a swoop of her magic, the door to her private chambers swung open, revealing a mare with a dark blue coat and a mane that reminded her of the beautiful night sky.

“Luna, dear sister. Is there anything you need?” she asked, smiling warmly at her beloved sibling. “How was the Night Court?”

Princess Luna returned her smile, beaming down at Celestia with love, and yet she beheld a familial concern in her eyes. “Bothersome like always, Tia, but I’m sure you know that already.”

The two sisters shared a laugh, before the Princess of the Night joined her sister on a cushion.

“Is something wrong, Luna?” Celestia raised an eyebrow, a frown upon her face. “You look worried.”

Luna nodded, placing a hoof onto her sister’s shoulder. “Indeed, We are worried about thee, Celestia. Thou hath—“

“Language,” Celestia interrupted, grinning markedly. “You’re slipping back into the old tongue, Lulu.” Luna rolled her eyes in exasperation before continuing.

“You’ve been in your chambers since you got back to Canterlot, Celestia. The moment you got back, I could tell something was bothering you—you hardly addressed me before retreating here,” she explained, her gaze sincere and her frown distressed. “What’s wrong?”

Celestia’s grin disappeared, replaced by a grimace. “Nothing, Luna, nothing. I’ve just been… tired, recently.”

Luna shook her head, patting her sister’s shoulder with her hoof. “Celestia, I may have been trapped on the moon for a millennium, but I can still tell when my sister is troubled, and lying to me. Tell me the truth, sister, or I’ll tell Blueblood you promised him an estate of his own.”

Celestia gave a low sigh, before giggling half-heartedly. “Oh, fine. I guess I can’t get anything by you, and besides, Blueblood would never shut up about that estate if you led him on,” she said. “But, yes, something has been on my mind. Luna, you remember the humans, yes? And their country of Har’yagul?”

Luna nodded, her gaze hard as a snarl made its way out her mouth. “Yes, I do. If I recall correctly, they all disappeared a century or so before… well, Nightmare Moon,” she spat, before looking curiously at Celestia. “Why? Have they returned? If they have…”

“No Luna,” Celestia reassured her sister, her smile warm, and she shook her head. “Well, at least they haven’t.”

“But?”

Celestia looked away, her eyes catching sight of a particular star outside, before responding. “A human has appeared, Luna. In Ponyville.”

Luna stood up abruptly, her form that of rage as she stomped a hoof. “Then what art we waiting for? Alloweth us to be off, to rid Equestria of that beast!”

“Caution, Luna!” Celestia pulled her sister back down. “I’ve already talked to him. He calls himself James Volker and, as far as I can tell, he’s not one of them—he told me he came from another world, and it seems he’s telling the truth.”

Luna frowned, obviously still displeased by the existence of a human within Equestria, yet beginning to calm down. “Then what do we do about this human, Celestia? Do we just let him roam free across our ponies’ lands?”

Celestia shook her head, holding her sister’s hoof with one of her own. “No, not at all. Twilight Sparkle, you know her, yes?”

Luna nodded her affirmation, a small smile creeping across her lips. “Yes, I do. She has been a good friend to us. Why?”

“Me, Luna, and I’ve put James, the human, under Twilight’s care for the time being. During the next few weeks, she and the human will exchange stories and facts about our respective cultures and societies,” Celestia explained. “If James turns out to be peaceful enough, then we can proceed from there. If not…”

After a moment of hesitation, Luna nodded. “I can’t say I agree with your decision, Tia, but I will stand by it.”

“And, Lulu, there is something I must ask you to do for me.”

“What is it?”

Celestia sighed, fatigue evident in her voice. “I request that you look into James’ dreams, and see what you can find. That way, we can find out more about his society of humans—and if he is lying or not, to our dear Twilight.”

Luna smiled at Celestia, standing up from her cushion. “I can do that, sister. Starting tonight?”

“Tonight.”

Luna nodded, giving her sister a quick hug before turning away to leave. “Then now, I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night, Tia.”

“You too, Lulu. And one more thing, before you go.”

Luna stopped in her tracks, turning around to face her sister once more. “Yes?”

“Tell Shining to send a few guards to Ponyville. Just in case.”

Part I - Chapter Six: Ponyville Oddities

Slowly, with the timidity and hesitance of a mouse in unfamiliarity, cool, golden rays shined through the layered blinds of the window, casting an arrayed pattern of feeble light and shadow across the room. The sun’s early light flittered into a pair of eyes and, with a low, nearly inaudible groan, a mound of flesh and tattered clothing arose, its hands gently rubbing its face.

James Volker took a moment to stretch out his arms, enjoying the seldom-appreciated wonder of loosened tension. His once taut joints and muscles now relaxed, the man stood up, walked tiredly to the window, and with a tender pull of his fingers, the blinds shifted slightly, revealing what lay outside.

The town was still asleep, for the most part. The sun, weak and faint, was only just beginning its rise—James estimated that, if Equestria’s time and orbit worked similarly to Earth’s, dawn would arrive in two, perhaps three hours. Pale rays of light wavered across the horizon, like bronze tendrils weakly grasping at the earth.

That was, however, of no matter to James. Since his days in uniform, he had always been an early bird, rising well before any of his peers and colleagues in the morning. James was a man of routine, and woe to those who would disrupt his austere regimen. Unfortunately, James had no idea who—or what—could have brought him to this land of technicolor palettes and cartoonish equines. Nor, regrettably, did he have any way, whatsoever, of taking his revenge on that unknown being.

And that, once more, brought James back to his dilemma. For, what really had happened? It was clear at this point that he was not in a dream, or a nightmare for that matter. Sleep had taken him easily, and James had dreamt of his early childhood. A time of play, and a time of blithe joy and wonder, where the world was his playground, his own jungle to swing through. Like Tarzan.

That had, of course, been before his jagged transition into a… problem child, as some had gently put it.

But the actuality of his dreams, and the palpable tangibility and corporeality of this new world, proved to him the inherent reality of his situation. For, unless he was dreaming within a dream—and that brought with it the labyrinthine issues and problems paralleling a certain film he had seen some years before—it was clear that James had been plopped, rather unceremoniously, into a new existence.

James groaned, holding his head in his hands. ‘All this thinking gives me a headache,’ he thought, stepping away from the window.

Of course, he could not simply erase the fact of his crisis, but he could choose to ignore it altogether.

Yes. That seemed like a good idea. He would simply live his life as best he could, given his circumstances. He nodded his head, smiling slightly. It had been his first decision in this new world, and though it was a minor one, of little to no impact or influence, James welcomed the ability to grasp ahold of his life and control it, once more.

He would celebrate the small victories, as it were.

Turning away from the window, James quietly crept out of the room granted to him. It was early enough that his host, Twilight, and her dragon assistant, Spike, would still be asleep, and he, by no means, wished to rouse them from their slumber. Neither, unfortunately, could James embark upon his daily morning ritual; he had always appreciated a good, long run before starting his days, but the manner of his existence, and the ponies’ general unawareness of the man, prohibited such an exercise.

A pity, since, as short a time he had been in this world, James had already decided that he relished Equestria’s fresh, invigorating air—a far cry from that of Earth.

In the meantime, however, James elected to pass the time by other, more passive means—perhaps reading. This was a library, after all, and it would be well advised to study the nature of Equestria. Smiling to himself, James perused Twilight’s collection of bookshelves, his eyes meandering all over the spines. He elected to search for a book that might arouse his interest. History, for example, was a subject he enjoyed, as shown by his career. Or maybe a novel on magic—a subject that very much indeed kindled a slight fire, deep within him.

Or, perhaps, a combination of both, and James raised his eyebrows in fascination as he withdrew a particular book from its shelf. Resisting the urge to whistle a low, merry tune, James took the book to a nearby seat, whereupon he sat, shifting this way and that way in an attempt to get comfortable in the unfavorably small chair.

It had been some hours later when a series of footsteps—hoofsteps, rather—grasped James’ attention, and he looked up from the book he held in his hands. He raised an eyebrow, watching as his host descended down a set of stairs. James gave a light smile, noticing the mare’s general state of dishevelment. Her mane looked like a wild bush, strands of lavender hair branching this way and that way, and her eyes drooped ever so slightly, an undercurrent of fatigue resonating from her form.

Giving a low chuckle, James turned back to the book, making note of his page before closing it altogether. Hearing the hoofsteps approach, James looked up, a warm, if unsure, smile upon his mouth.

“Good morning, Twilight. Have a good night’s sleep?”

Twilight frowned down at James, confusion evident in her expression. “James? It’s eight o'clock, how long have you been awake?”

“Oh, about three hours or so, give or take a few minutes,” he responded, holding up the book. “I haven’t been doing much in the meantime, but I’ve gotta say, this whole ‘magic’ business is pretty interesting.” He grimaced, putting the tome down on the table in front of him. “Even if I don’t understand a word this ‘Emerald Dream’ guy is saying about it.”

The mare squinted her eyes, glazing over the title of the novel, before raising an eyebrow at James. “’Basic Arcanum for Fledgling Fillies?’ James, that’s a textbook meant for unicorn foals.”

“Foals? Oh…”

Twilight grinned, a slight glint in her eyes as she drew closer to James. “James, are you interested in magic?”

The man leaned back, his feelings ambivalent. “Uh, sure? Yeah, the subject kinda… piques my interest.”

Twilight nodded happily, stepping back from James. “That’s fantastic! We can go over that later today. Though, James?”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Do humans not have magic?” she asked, tilting her head. “You asked me about it earlier, back at Fluttershy’s cottage. You seem unfamiliar with the concept.”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m afraid not, Twilight. Though, back on Earth, we’ve made some things with technology that might as well be magic.”

Twilight nodded, showing interest, but turned away, her horn glowing alight. A quill and a piece of paper promptly floated to her, encapsulated in lavender sheens. “Well, you can tell me all about it this afternoon, because I’d love to continue this conversation. Spike should be waking up soon, so we’ll have breakfast and start our trip to Rarity’s boutique. Does that sound good to you—“

Suddenly, a wild series of bangs interrupted Twilight, sounding much like somepony was hammering down the door. The quill and paper fell from Twilight’s grasp, the unicorn evidently startled.

“Coming, just a sec!” Twilight trotted towards the door, swinging it open. Before her stood a mint-green unicorn, her amber eyes almost feral in appearance. She bared her glinting teeth, and James briefly caught a glimpse of a lyre upon her flank before Twilight blocked his view.

“Lyra?” Twilight asked, taking a step backwards in shock and mild fear. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

The unicorn, Lyra, attempted unsuccessfully to push past Twilight. She leaned this way and that way, trying to look inside the tree-house. “I know you have him here, Twilight! I know you’re keeping him here, I just wanna see him!”

“Who, Lyra? What’s got you all riled up?”

Lyra looked up at Twilight, her expression incredulous. “The human, Twilight! I saw you take him here yesterday, I know you’ve got him in there! Can I just see him?”

Slowly, silently, James rose from his unfortunately small seat, backing away into the kitchen in an effort to retreat. Though he had only caught a glance, James somewhat recognized the mint-coated mare, thoughts of carnivorous horses swelling within the confines of his mind. As he withdrew, however, his foot caught on the leg of a table, and James fell to the ground, grunting loudly in pain.

“There he is!” Lyra exclaimed, having heard James fall. She pushed past Twilight, knocking the poor mare to the ground in her rush towards James' fallen body.

He attempted to scramble away from the seemingly insane unicorn, frantically clambering backwards. Lyra, however, was much too fast, rapidly closing the distance between them. She came to a stop over James, and her eyes widened, ostensibly staring into James’ soul as the hardened marine veteran cowered.

“Wow…” Lyra mumbled, her gaze meandering all over James’ form. “A real, live human… I never would have thought…”

James gave a pained cringe, looking as if he were trying to sink below the ground. “Please stop,” he muttered, apprehension gripping at the human. What, exactly, was this psychotic pony trying to do?

“Stop?” she murmured, locked in a trance. “But I haven’t even started...”

Suddenly, the unicorn was pulled back. She gave an alarmed cry, a force tugging on her. Lyra whipped around, scouring the library for the one who had interrupted her. Her gaze fell upon a tan pony, her mane a duality of fuchsia and blue.

“Lyra!” the newcomer shouted accusingly, her hoof clamped upon Lyra’s tail. “Leave that…thing alone!”

Lyra gave a sullen pout, her eyes narrowing. “But Bon Bon, it’s a human! Don’t you see? A real, living human!” She turned back to James, her pupils showing her absolute delight. “I’ve been looking for one for so long!”

“Enough with that human talk, Lyra, can’t you see you’ve hurt poor Twilight? C’mon, let’s go, Lyra.”

“But—” Lyra attempted to protest, struggling against her friend’s grip.

“Now, Lyra,” Bon Bon pulled on her friend, slowly dragging her away from James’ frightened form. James watched as the two mares left through the still open door, his mouth gaping wide open in shock and confusion. Then, his eyes shifted towards Twilight, grumbling and groaning whilst she picked herself up from the floor.

“Twilight, you alright?” he asked, slowly rising himself. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, holding a hoof to her horn as stars swirled in her eyes. “Ye-yeah, I think I’m okay. I feel like a train hit me, though. Geez...”

“What was the deal with all of that?” James asked, his vision quite stuck to Twilight’s oaken door, as if he were afraid the seemingly insane mare—Lyra, her name was—would burst in once more, her teeth bared and her eyes a frenzied bronze.

Twilight, too, looked back at the door, her thoughts confused and muddled. “I’m… not quite sure myself, James. We’ve always known Lyra to be a bit strange, but I’ve never seen her like that before.”

“You’re not all like her, right?” James queried worriedly. “Ponies, I mean. You’re not all insane?”

The unicorn giggled, though Lyra’s behavior stuck to the back of her mind. “No, of course not, James. Lyra isn’t usually like that either, but… well, I don’t know. Anyways, Spike should be waking up soon, so we’ll have breakfast first and then get ready for our trip.”

James nodded his head, his stomach growling at the anticipation of food. He was quite hungry, yes, but… he had a feeling his current thoughts of flesh-eating, mint-colored pony-lunatics would keep his appetite in check.

“Would you please stand still?”

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, dear, just be still. In fact, just shut up and let me take your measurements.”

James fought the urge to nod, gulping down a globule of saliva as he stood in a manner much akin to a ramrod. In the corner of his vision, he could see Twilight struggling to keep quiet, small giggles trickling out of her mouth. To his front, the pearly-white unicorn he had met the night before held a tape measure all over his body. She hummed a low, graceful tune, occasionally muttering muted strings of words and numbers.

In fact, everything about the mare, Rarity, screamed “elegance,” “beauty,” and “grace.” She worked tirelessly, flowing around him like a comely ribbon of silk and lace. Yet, James’ thoughts returned to the matter of what lay outside her boutique—Ponyville, in its entirety, foreign and alien to him.

But was he not the alien himself? It was clear that the equine denizens of this country were completely unfamiliar with the likes of James, and their apprehension at the appearance of such a creature was easily discernible when he had toured the town. Waves of trepidation and cautious interest had rolled over him, and James was quite sure that if he had not been with Twilight at the time, most ponies would have fled at the sight of him.

A timid lot, to be sure, but James could not blame them.

“All finished!” Rarity’s cheerful exclamation interrupted James’ thoughts, and he looked down, his limbs and joints relaxing.

“You’re all done? Anything else you need, miss?”

The unicorn shook her head, her smile glowing. “Nope, not at all, dear. But, if I may, I do have a question. Well, more of a puzzled inquiry, to be sure.” James nodded, gesturing for Rarity to proceed.

“How exactly, dear, did you ruin such a fine suit in such a way?” Rarity seemed to demand, her hooves grasping onto James’ tattered clothing. She held it close to her eye, examining the once-fine fabric. “These clothes are very well made, I can tell, and several parts of them honestly intrigue me, but how on Equus have you managed to destroy such fine apparel?”

James shrugged in response, a frown etched onto his face. “Long story, miss, and it ties into how I got here. Which, I still have no idea how I ended up in… Equus, in the first place.”

“Oh, please, call me Rarity. But, if that is the case, may I request that, when I am finished with the clothes I’ll make you, can I keep the remains of your current dress?” she asked, her hoofs still gripping James’ suit. “I would definitely like to investigate some parts of your suit—the fabrics, for example, are so exotic, and this little piece of… brass? Gold? This is most interesting…”

With a pained grimace, James grabbed onto Rarity’s hoof and moved it away. “That’s a zipper, Rarity.”

“Oh, a zipper, is that what it’s called?” Rarity gleefully said, turning away from James. “Well, I guess we’re done here, so you’re free to go. Thank you for bringing him, Twilight. This encounter has brought some fascinating developments to mind…”

Twilight approached James from the side, a pleasant grin on her face. “Oh, no problem, Rarity! I’m happy to help.” She looked up at James, tilting her head towards the door of the boutique. “Alright, James, are you ready to head back to the library?”

James nodded, showing his affirmation. The pair left Carousel Boutique, the elegant tone of Rarity’s voice following them out the door as she sang a particular song. James simply elected to follow Twilight, hoping that their course would bring him before as few ponies as possible.

Of course, Ponyville was as bustling as it could ever be, crowds of ponies flowing this way and that way as the sun hung high above them in the sky. The unusual duo passed through the marketplace, and the independent streams of citizens diverged around them, giving the two ample space to maneuver, and James could feel their piercing stares, the mixed feelings of curiosity, fear, apprehension, and uncertainty assuredly discernible in the air. For his own sake, James drew closer to Twilight, in hopes that he could blend in.

“What’s wrong, James?” Twilight asked, having felt James’ slight bump and touch. “You seem a bit agitated. Are you okay?”

James slowly nodded, trying his best to avert his gaze from the kaleidoscope of miniature horses around him. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it seems a lot of these ponies are staring at me. It’s unnerving.”

Twilight giggled, waving towards a particular cherry-colored mare, a trio of flowers on her flank. “Well, that’s to be expected. You are new to Ponyville—no, Equestria, after all, and nobody has ever really seen anypony—anyone like you before.” She stopped briefly, turning to face James with a reassuring expression. “I’m sure that, with time, everypony will get used to you, You might just make some friends!”

“One would hope,” James replied. His gaze was shifted to the side, locked onto a familiar pony approaching the two. “Looks like our first contestant is arriving.”

Twilight turned to see who he was looking at. “Hey, Bon Bon. How’s it going?”

The pony in question frowned, her eyes flicking between Twilight and James as if she were unsure what to say. “It’s going alright, Twilight. But, I just wanted to apologize, for earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Bon Bon began, turning to look behind her. “It’s more on behalf of Lyra, since she, you know, busted into your house and knocked you down, and all. I’m sorry she acted like that, I really don’t know what’s gotten into her!”

Twilight laughed, waving a hoof to the side. “Oh, it’s fine, Bon Bon. I’m not hurt or anything, and I could tell Lyra was really excited.”

Bon Bon nodded, though she still beheld a troubled look. “That’s good. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” She looked back at James, an eyebrow raised. “Say, Twilight, who’s your big friend here? I’ve never seen anypony like him before.”

“Oh, that’s James. He’s a…” Twilight trailed off, watching for James reaction.

“It’s fine, Twilight,” James nodded, turning to Bon Bon. “Nice to meet you, Bon Bon.”

“He’s a human, Bon Bon,” Twilight continued, and Bon Bon’s expression slowly grew into that of understanding. “How he got here is… complicated, to say the least.”

Bon Bon looked away, scratching her head with a hoof. “Oh, well that must be why Lyra was so excited. No wonder…” she looked back at the two, a smile having returned to her mouth. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, James. Have a good one, you two!”

Twilight waved goodbye, an expectant expression upon her face as she turned back to James. “See? I told you you’d make friends in no time.”

James simply shrugged, quietly following Twilight back to her tree home.

The room was quiet, shadows lining the walls. A singular candle glowed weakly in the darkness, and the scent of old parchment, vellum, and wax perspirated the musty air, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling like ancient tapestries of woven silk. A single figure, tenebrous and dim, stood within, the tip of her horn glowing a cool, fresh green light. An attentive smile hung upon her mouth, and she slowly approached a stack of books, dust and soot layered upon them.

Lyra Heartstrings picked up one of the stacked tomes, a hoof brushing the dirt and grime off the cover. Her mind was on a mission, and her eyes absorbed the novel’s title, the runes primeval and archaic.

The Desolation of the Har’yagul.

This was, indeed, a book that Lyra, by all respects, should not have access to—in fact, one might call it illegal. Heavens above, if the princess—princesses, for that matter, found out that she, an innocent resident of Ponyville, bore access to such an opus, Lyra would surely be punished, in some way or form. However, her job, as one of Royal Archivists of Canterlot, had made Lyra privy to the knowledge laid within such forbidden novels that even Celestia herself did not know—or, perhaps, even remember—existed within the deep, dark confines of Canterlot’s Grand Archives.

Lyra had, in her ill-planned pursuits of knowledge, smuggled many a tome and book from the deepest, most esoteric sections of the Grand Archives, besides the Starswirl sections. Most of the novels were ancient, yet either useless or impossible to read or understand. Yet, some had sparked her curiosity, her flame for erudition and revelation. Having read through most of the novels, a great interest in humans had been reaped, the disclosure of an entire race that her benevolent ruler had seen fit to erase from history, for some reason or other.

And Lyra, for so long, had hunted for more, even more, tidbits of information on the species. She had even created an archive of her own, below the floors of the home she shared with her close friend, Bon Bon. Sweetie Drops, or, as most of Ponyville liked to call her, Bon Bon, was the only pony who even knew about her special room, and she had swore not to spread word of such a location, if only for Lyra’s own privacy. But Bon Bon did not share Lyra’s interest in the humans, and even scoffed at such an ideal, seeing Lyra’s efforts to be those of hopelessness, misdirection, and countless impasses.

Lyra’s thoughts were suddenly brought to a halt as, while her hooves glazed over the varied covers and spines of her secret books, she found something to be out of place… or, perhaps, even… missing.

“Oh, buck,” Lyra whispered, her eyes widening as she began a frantic search. Volumes of the Har’yagul and mystic dissertations on the occult arcane of the ancient humans fell like the foregone Lighthouse of Coltandria of yore, and Lyra foraged through them with an agitated panic.

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Lyra finally stopped, sitting back on her haunches as she slapped a mint-green hoof upon her muzzle. “I left it back in Canterlot, didn’t I? Oh, bucking buck!”

What if somepony found the missing book? The one that, if fallen into the wrong hooves, could become the catalyst for so much danger? The one that dictated heavily, so heavily, upon the legions of spells, sorceries, and miracles that the ancient humans of Har’yagul utilized, or even their malignant curses and vicious hexes? Magic that had once threatened the topple of Equestria so long ago, in the past? Why that particular book, and not some other, useless one?

Lyra wringed her hooves into her eyes, tears threatening to spill out as she moaned in frustration. “I’m so bucked…”

Part I - Chapter Seven: Lesson One

“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.

Part I - Chapter Nine: Gifts and Tricks

James stared at Rarity, his eyes rather glaringly proclaiming his astonishment and confusion to the world. His mouth hung slightly open, and he could see Rarity’s gaze flicker all over him, gauging his befuddlement.

“James, you do look quite foolish like that,” she said, taking a step back. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Rarity,” James began, his hand motioning towards the unicorn. “Didn’t we just see you yesterday about your… gift?”

She nodded, her gaze briefly flicking towards Twilight, who stood a short distance behind James. “Mmhm, that is correct.” Her mouth curled downwards into a frown, and her eyes took a rather worried look. “Why? Do you not like it?”

James looked to the side, taking in the objects gathered in Rarity’s magical grasp. “No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering how you managed to finish it all in one day. Even less time, considering.”

Rarity did not respond for several moments, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Oh, James. And here I was, thinking you didn’t like my work.” She trotted closer to James and placed a hoof on his stomach, giving him a roguish smile. “I think you underestimate my abilities.”

He chuckled in response, shaking his head. “No, I never said that,” James said, an eyebrow raised as he smirked. “But, one can't help but doubt the quality of the work, if done in so short a time.”

The self-proclaimed fashionista gasped in mock indignation, her hoof retracting to her chest. “I never!” Rarity exclaimed, snapping to look at Twilight. “I think you’ve got a rather mischievous fellow on your hooves, Twilight.” She winked. “Do be careful with him, dear.”

Twilight stared at the two oddly, her head tilted and an eyebrow raised. One of her ears hung limply. “Very funny,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Using her magic, she took the clothes from Rarity, shifting through them. “So, here’s two shirts, two pairs of pants, some socks, some of these… smaller pants, I guess. I assume you’ll have some more for James within the next few days?”

Rarity nodded in response. “Yes, though the next batch will take a bit longer. I tried to model them on the pieces of James’ suit.” she turned to James, giggling. “Some things were harder to make, all things considered, but I made do with what I had.”

James took a moment to look over Rarity’s gifts, his eyes wandering around their cloth and fabric. The shirts were quite plain, though Rarity had been opposed to this particular request of his. Apparently made of linen and cotton, they were simple long-sleeved shirts, one grey in color and the other a basic white. However, their collars seemed to have been turned over—a rather unique standout from the rest of the shirts.

The pants were, again, simplistic, and seemed to have been modeled after the remnants of his suit’s matching pants. Grey and clean, they had no visible details that James could parse out. All in all, Rarity had stayed true to his original suit’s origins, albeit without any sort of details only a machine could create. He might have preferred more casual wear, but he would take what he could get.

“Yeah, this is great,” James replied, grabbing his new garments from Twilight. “I appreciate this, Rarity, I really do. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back?”

Her eyes closed, Rarity shook her head, drawing a horizontal line with her hoof through the air. “Nonsense! As long as you’re grateful, and you don’t happen to be some monster in disguise, we’ll be fine. Besides, it was a challenge, and I do love challenges.” she assured him, before looking at Twilight. “By the way, Twilight. Is our picnic with the others still on schedule, or has James’ appearance put that on hold?”

“Picnic?” Twilight asked, her ears perking to attention. “What picnic?”

Rarity’s lips pursed, her eyes narrowed. She was nonplussed. “Our monthly picnic. It's this afternoon. Have you forgotten?”

Twilight’s eyes widened and brightened with recollection as she gave a loud gasp. “Oh, yes! Our picnic!I completely forgot about it!”

“So does that mean the picnic is off?”

Twilight shook her head in an urgent panic. “No, no! It’s still on, Rarity, I just… what with James appearing out of nowhere, and this new assignment from Celestia, I’ve just been so scatterbrained lately. I’m really sorry, Rarity.” She turned to James, nervously smiling. “You don’t mind, right James? I really don’t want to miss this picnic with my friends.”

He was about to shake his head, a hand already moving to wave in dismissal, but Rarity interrupted him. “Why not have him join us, dear?” she asked, tilting her head. “The more, the better, yes?”

“I guess,” Twilight replied, casting a sidelong look at her human partner. “James, would you like to join us? I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“Why not,” James said after a moment, shrugging. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Rarity smiled, her ears pricking towards James. “Excellent! Then I’ll see you two at the park this afternoon. Ta-ta!”

Twilight and James waved the seamstress goodbye as she departed from Twilight’s home. Turning to the other unicorn, James adopted a sheepish expression, holding up his new clothes.

“I guess I should change out of these scraps now, shouldn’t I?” he chuckled lightly. Twilight nodded back, a faint smile on her lips.

“That might be a good idea,” she said, turning around. A quill and a piece of parchment floated towards her. “We’ve got a couple of hours until the picnic, and I need to pick up a few things. You can join me, if you'd like. It might be a good way to introduce you to some of my friends around town!”

James nodded dubiously. “Sure, if you think so. Though, I get the feeling some of those ponies out there aren’t very fond of me yet.”

“Which is why we should introduce you as soon as possible!” Twilight chirped, scribbling across the parchment. “Let’s see, Fluttershy probably has the tea covered, Rainbow Dash with the...” She stopped, turning to James as her ears pinned back against her head. “Why are you still standing there, James?”

He took a step back, self-consciously grinning. “Oh. Right, sorry. I’ll get to it. See you in a little bit, Twilight.”

She waved him off, continuing to write at a rapid pace. “Grapes, strawberries, some other fruits, I think Rarity’s got those handled. Applejack should have her apple assortments, so, that leaves us with some cupcakes, sandwiches, salad, and…”

“…watermelons!” Twilight exclaimed, speeding through the Ponyville market. She was a mare on a mission, and ponies gave her a wide berth as she blazed a trail through the quaint town, paying her no heed. They were quite acclimated to the librarian’s eccentricities, and had learned to avoid Twilight’s troubles and problems unless they were personally involved.

Somewhere behind her, struggling along like a thirsty pack mule, staggered James. An assortment of bags and boxes juggled through his hands. His breaths were heavy, and though they paid Twilight little attention, the residents of Ponyville gave the human even more space. Their eyes were wide as the unfamiliar creature stumbled after his host.

“Twilight!” He cried out, grunting in pain as he nearly tripped on a rock. “C’mon, Twilight, wait up!”

“Can’t!” She yelled back. “No time! Picnic is in fifteen minutes, and we still don’t have our watermelons! Or our cupcakes!”

James gave a low snarl, struggling to maintain his hold on his luggage. One particular paper bag was giving his fingers problems, the wiry rope of its straps digging into his flesh. He grunted in pain, his feet dragging along the ground. “Dang it Twilight,” James muttered, his eyes searching for the pony in question. “And I thought I was supposed to have breathing problems, or something…”

He could feel Zecora’s medicine working within him, the warm fluids soothing his lungs. James was sure that, had he not indulged in such measures, he would have been struggling even more. Physical exertion had always been difficult after his injury, to say the least, and though he wasn’t entirely disabled, not by far, it was always a pain. However, James could feel the medicine dying out, its effects slowly subsiding as his body processed the brew.

Finally, his gaze landed upon Twilight, standing before a fruit stall. A rather perplexed-looking stallion tended to the stand, leaning away from Twilight as surprise rolled across his face. James limped towards them, coming to a halt beside Twilight.

“Do you have watermelons?” Twilight asked, urgency and panic ringing through her voice. “Oh, what am I saying, of course you do! One watermelon, please!”

The salespony rapidly nodded, disappearing for a moment. He returned with a large, green fruit, black stripes rippling across its surface. “That’ll be sixteen bits, ma’am.”

Twilight virtually threw the golden coins at the stallion, sputtering a quick “thank you” before rushing away. “Let’s go, James! We need to get to Sugarcube Corner for our cupcakes!”

He watched as the mare galloped away, before turning back to the stand. His eyes glazed over the large fruit, his frown curling deeper and deeper. James gave the salespony a brief glance.

“Sorry about her. I’ll have to carry that, right?”

The pony nodded slowly, backing away inch by inch from the stand. “Yep. I’m afraid you will, sir.”

James sighed, a mixture of frustration and dread lacing his breath. Shifting the bags and boxes around in his arms, he took a loose grip on the edges of the watermelon, before lifting it up with a strained grunt. James struggled with the large fruit for several seconds, finally settling it into a somewhat comfortable position.

“Right,” he said, turning away from the fruit stand. “Twilight, you will pay for this,” he muttered, and trudged off after his host.

He quickly found her, waiting rather impatiently outside of what James assumed to be Sugarcube Corner. True to its name, the building itself bore remarkable similarity to a gingerbread house. While the walls and door were normal enough, the bakery’s roof looked as if it were made of cookies and gingerbread, layered in a thick, creamy frosting—or, rather, it at least appeared to be frosting.

The very top of the building seemed to have been built to resemble a cupcake of some sort, possibly vanilla, with what looked to be strawberry frosting decorating the top. The chimney—well, James thought it was a chimney—was a trio of candles. Warm, smoky fire billowed from their tops. At the base of Sugarcube Corner, beside the door, was a garden, its assortment of fuchsia and magenta flowers a bouquet of sweet candies. It was all rather striking to the man, though not completely in a good way.

James surmised that, if he stayed for far too long a time at this “Sugarcube Corner,” he might develop a particularly debilitating case of diabetes. Perhaps heart-disease, if the former weren’t enough.

Or he might get fat.

“James!” Twilight exclaimed, having seen him approach. If she had noticed his struggle and discomfort with having to carry their picnic supplies, then she had given no sign of having done so. “You’re here! Good, we have to hurry.”

He gave a mere grunt in response, lacking the conviction and breath to say anything more. Frankly, James was beginning to question his host’s sanity.

“Come on, let’s go inside. Cup Cake probably has our order all ready!” Without a further word, Twilight rushed into the building. With a grimace, James shifted the bags and boxes in his arms, before following the unicorn into the world of sugar.

He ducked through the door, its frame a little too small for the man. As he passed through, a bell rang above him, signaling his entrance. Further into the room, James could see Twilight standing opposite a rather plump pony, a counter and register between them. To his side, a long row of tables and booths were arranged, and James took a moment to set his bags, boxes, and the troublesome watermelon on the one closest.

“Your cupcakes, Miss Sparkle!” the plump pony chirruped, her voice almost sing-song like. “A dozen vanilla cupcakes with strawberry frosting.”

James approached the two, though neither had noticed his presence yet. “Thank you, Mrs. Cake,” Twilight opened the box, briefly scanning over its contents. “These are perfect. How much was it, again?”

“That’ll be eight bits, Miss Sparkle. Say, have you seen Pinkie around…” the pony, Mrs. Cake, trailed off, her eyes slowly shifting towards James. He stopped, awkwardly returning her stare. “Oh, my.”

“Hm?” Twilight turned around, finding James behind her. “Oh! James, you’re here! This is Mrs. Cake, she owns Sugarcube Corner.”

“So it’s true?” Mrs. Cake mumbled, her eyes glazing over James.

Twilight tilted her head, her ears hanging loose in confusion. “What’s true?”

“Ponies were talking about you, Miss Sparkle,” Mrs. Cake answered. “There were rumors that you had found some unknown animal from the Everfree, and that you had tamed it.” She looked up and down over James, and he felt quite uncomfortable. “Looks like you’re dressing it up too, and it’s carrying your things for you. Is it your pet now?”

The unicorn leaned back, her eyes widening in surprise. “What?!” she cried out in disbelief. “No! No, no, James is not an animal. And he is most certainly not my pet.”

Ah, so there it was. A chink in the armor, a way for James to get back at Twilight. He had promised to himself that he would find a way to exact revenge on the unicorn, and James had found his moment.

“James here is perfectly sentient. How we ended up with him is a long, long story,” Twilight continued, waving her hooves like a mare gone mad. “He’s most definitely not under my control. He thinks, he acts, he talk. He's just like you and me.” She gestured towards James, motioning for him to begin speaking.

Inwardly smiling like a devil, James stood still like a statue, his stare lancing forwards as he made no effort to speak. Mrs. Cake raised an eyebrow, her ears lopping in confusion as she looked back at Twilight.

“Are you sure, Miss Sparkle?” she asked, a small grin creeping across her mouth. “Because that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Twilight’s face reddened, and she stomped her hoof lightly. “James!” she exclaimed, taking a step towards the man. “Please, just speak. Say hello. We’re in a hurry!”

Still, he did not respond, an immovable rock unresponsive to Twilight’s queries. She nudged him lightly with a hoof, growing somewhat frustrated. “James, please stop messing around?”

After another moment of silence, Twilight seemed to deflate, a long sigh escaping her mouth.

“Please?” she asked, a tinge of regret hinted in her voice. He couldn’t help it—he did not answer for a moment further. Twilight looked as if she would give up and collapse, before James finally opened his mouth.

“Alright,” he said, a chuckle bubbling from between his lips. “I’m done, I’m done messing with you. Sorry, Twilight.”

“It’s alright,” she responded, looking away. “It’s because I made you carry all that stuff, right?”

“You just noticed?” James deadpanned, crossing his arms.

Twilight simply nodded, looking quite glum. “Yeah, though only after Mrs. Cake pointed it out.” She looked up at James, frowning. “I—”

James held a hand up. “Stop. You tell me I say sorry too much, but take a look at yourself too, Twilight. You don’t need to apologize so much.”

“But—”

“It’s okay,” James reassured her, his voice soft. “I understand, Twilight. We’re in a hurry, you don’t want to be late, all that good stuff. Speaking of which, we should get going. I’m thinking the others are waiting on us by now. We can talk about this later.”

Twilight nodded, turning back to Mrs. Cake. “Thank you again, Mrs. Cake. Oh, and Pinkie should be at the picnic with me.”

The plump baker gave the two of them a warm smile. “Have a nice picnic, Miss Sparkle. Oh, and do be sure to tell Pinkie that we need her to babysit the foals again tomorrow.”

She shivered, icy droplets of damnable rain spattering across her coat. With a pained whimper, she sent a bit of energy to her horn. A pink sheen enveloped the cloak upon her back, tightening it against her cold flesh and fur. She shuffled her hooves across the muddy ground, trying her best not to trip on the grey rocks of the land as she rushed across the field.

The rocks, the confounded rocks—oh, how she hated them, small pebbles of torment that caused her no end of suffering and pain. And for what? For the small nibbles of food, and the rotted hole in the ground her employers thought was fit for her? She was great, she was powerful, and yet she had been condemned to a life of misery.

Yet, for all the hatred she bore for the rocks, and for all the contempt she held for her employers, she hated one pony above all—the one who had taken her life away from her. She had been loved, she had been adored, yet one simpleton, one weather-bitten coxcomb, had taken it all away from her.

She hated Twilight Sparkle with all her heart—her rage could have melted the rocks, torn asunder the storms that, only a little over a year ago, she would have been comfortably sheltered from, lavender cushions and silken blankets warmly tucked around her.

By Celestia, she was even beginning to hate the color purple!

Bracing herself, she busted through the flimsy door of her ramshackle home. She was safe, at least somewhat, from the insolent storm above—a godsend, really. She did not know how much longer she could have resisted the urge to plan, to scheme.

Despite her troubles, the unicorn giggled, a manic snicker that might have shaken the heart of a normal pony. She waltzed across the floor of her home, the old, warped carpet snagging against her hooves as she danced. To the table she hopped, humming a low, lively tune. She wouldn’t suffer much longer—she might take her place, or take her friends, her money, her power.

My, she could even take her town and home—that sounded like a rightfully wonderful idea!

With a final twirl, and an ultimate twist, the mare plopped down into the one seat in her home, the feeble wood of the chair squeaking and screaming under her. Insolent earth ponies, hadn’t even the time nor the desire to find her something safe for her to sit on, much less a tolerable domicile. A bowl of stew sat before her, murky clouds of grey rot wafting from it. She took a sip—it was cold! The stew was so cold, it seared at her tongue, at her throat! Audacious slave drivers, she would have her revenge one day!

She chuckled, her thoughts drifting towards the idea of revenge. It had been difficult indeed, to find the amulet. She had searched far and wide, through the mystic archives of Canterlot itself, and through the deepest halls of the Crystal Empire’s Hypogean Athenaeum, but she had finally found it, tucked safely within a modest little storefront.

A storefront, really?! She cackled loudly, slapping her hoof against her knee. A storefront, in the middle of Canterlot, protected by none other than a frail weasel of an old codger. He had been reluctant yes, but money bought all ponies. She had been sure of it, and she had been affirmed of her wisdom. Now there it was, hanging around her neck, its blood-red jewel shining like a murderous herald of luck and power.

The searches themselves, however, had not been completely fruitless. In Canterlot, sat upon a table at a small cafe, had been a book, simple and plain. She had, out of curiosity, took a peek, its title having been enough to pique her curiosity. The Magic of the Har’yagul—the possibilities of unknown magic, even those of fiction, had interested her, and when she had taken naught but a gander, she had been sucked in. She had been amazed. Stupefied. And ideas began to settle in her mind.

Magic of the spirit, calling upon one’s tumultuous emotions and intellect, had been bountiful in those pages. Tales of spells, weaving webs of light and rays of dark, had been the first. As she delved further, she found notes of complex sorceries, miracles of conviction, that could sunder entire legions with occult beams of arcane, accretions of crystal cerebrum. The Har’yagul, they had been called—they were powerful, that much was clear. So, she had hired some ponies, some muscle, stallions of ill-repute, to search Equestria, to find any mention, any notion, of the Har’yagul. Or even better yet, a living sample, a true specimen to behold, and to learn from.

They had taken some time, that much was true. But her toils, her drudgeries, the slow-yet-steady desolation of her purse, had proven profitable. Her stallions had brought back news, news from Ponyville itself, of a real, live, breathing member of the Har’yagul species, sleeping under the roof of the very mare she hated above all.

My, if things went her way, the Great and Powerful Trixie might not have need of the Alicorn Amulet after all.

Part I - Chapter Ten: Picnic

It was a rather pleasant day, James observed. While on Earth autumn had been in full swing, Equestria seemed to have only just left behind the heat and humidity of summer. James had taken a glance at the calendar back at Twilight’s home some hours before, noting that today was Tuesday, September 14th.

The leaves of the trees had begun to change color, their vibrant greens giving way for cool reds, savory yellows, and the occasionally dead brown. There was a pleasant breeze, a cool wind sweeping across the valley. James took a deep breath, appreciative of the clean air—something he had missed sorely from his childhood. Neither New York nor New Jersey had been known for their lack of pollution, after all.

Yet, there was something off about it all, something different. It wasn’t unnatural, anyhow, but James suspected that, like the weather, the sun, and the moon, the seasons worked differently in Equestria. For, a brief glance at the trees had shown that, where leaves would have begun to fall, every piece of foliage, every frond of autumnal color, remained in its place, undisturbed in their branches.  Twilight, walking with him at his side, seemed not to notice, absent-mindedly skipping along as a trio of bags floated along with her.

“Twilight?” he prompted, carefully shifting his own bags. “I’ve got a question.”

“Hm?” her ears pricked towards him. “What is it, James?”

James looked back at the trees around them, a slight wind blowing through their boughs. “Well, I know that it’s fall and all, but I’m not sure if Equestria’s seasons work the same way Earth’s do,” he began. “But, I’m used to leaves falling from the trees during fall. Is it not the same in Equestria?”

Twilight gave a short giggle, turning her head to look at him. “I guess that’s another difference. Throughout the majority of Equestria, the pegasi usually work to bring leaves down from their trees,” she said, motioning around them. “But Ponyville was founded by Earth Ponies, and the town has its own tradition regarding this time of year.”

“And that is?”

“Well,” she began, shifting into her “lecture” voice. “Every year, when the leaves begin to change color, the town hosts an event called the ‘Running of the Leaves.’ Ponies from all over town, and even some from other cities, hold a hoof-race here.”

James raised an eyebrow, his curiosity whet. “And what does that have to do with the leaves?”

“The idea is that the resulting stampede from all of the running ponies will shake the leaves off of their trees,” Twilight explained happily, settling into a gleeful prance. “Ponyville has had this tradition since its founding—I believe Granny Smith was one of the first to take part!”

That name was unfamiliar. “Granny Smith?” James asked, rolling the name across his tongue. It didn’t particularly sound like any of the other weird names ponies seemed to possess. “Who’s that?”

“She’s Applejack’s grandmother,” Twilight answered. “You’ve met Applejack, right?”

James scratched his head, struggling to remember the pony in question. “Applejack… she’s one of your friends, right? Met her at... Fluttershy’s house. I think?”

 She nodded, giving a low affirmatory hum. “Mmhm. Applejack’s family owns the nearby farm, where they harvest apples, among other things.” Twilight stopped for a moment, and James nearly bumped into her.

“Twilight? What’s wrong?”

The unicorn shook her head, a smile creeping across her face. “Nothing’s wrong. I just see my friends.” She turned to look at him, a warm look in her eyes. “I think they’re waiting on us. Ready to go see them?”

“You’re sure I won’t be intruding?” James asked in response, his voice unsure. “I mean, they’re your friends, not mine.”

Twilight shook her head, slapping his leg lightly with a hoof. “Oh James, don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be your friends in no time too. Rarity invited you, after all!” She turned away from him, trotting at a rapid pace towards her friends.

“Hey girls!” Twilight exclaimed, a wide smile across her mouth. “Waiting on us?”

James shrugged, following after his host. As they approached, the assembled ponies gave a chorus of greetings, swarming Twilight with bright smiles upon their mouths.

“Twilight!” the foremost said, her voice bubbling with excitement. James’ eyes could barely keep up, her pink coat a bouncing ball of delight. “You made it! We were all waiting for you!”

Twilight giggled, winking at her friends. “Yes, and I’m glad I did. I almost would have forgotten, if it weren’t for Rarity.”

James stood to the side, rubbing an arm in discomfort. He watched Twilight and her friends convene, patiently waiting for his turn to introduce himself.

“And we’re glad you’re here, dear,” a familiarly pearl-white mare responded, her smile sly. “Or at least, I am. Though, you did bring our kind visitor, yes?”

“That’s right,” a southern twang responded. James scratched his head, struggling to place the name on the face. “Rares did say you were gonna bring a friend along, or something. He around?”

“Of course!” She turned around to face him. “There he is. Come on, James! You’ve already met a few of them.”

Shaking his head, James gave a small smile. “Alright, alright.” He waved around, his eyes glancing across the various ponies. They were familiar, at least somewhat, and the gears in his head turned and turned, his memories working in overtime. The yellow one, with the pink hair—Fluttershy, he knew a little. She was standing towards the back, seeming to hide behind her mane. And beside her was a rather unique pony, at least in terms of color. While her coat and wings were blue, her mane was split into a variety of hues, all of the rainbow. She gave James a wary look, her legs slightly tense.

Then, in front of Twilight, were the other three. Applejack he somewhat knew, having talked a bit with her when he had first awoken in Equestria. The leather hat upon her blonde mane was fairly familiar, and her orange coat hid a strong set of muscles underneath. She was evidently familiar with manual labor, and James reminded himself to not engage in any sort of tussle with her.

Rarity, of course, he knew, but the final one, a pink, tremoring blob of excitement and glee bouncing unpredictably, he regrettably did not. Though, he would bet a large sum of money that “pink” was at least a portion of her name.

“Hey,” James said, letting his hand fall to his side. “You all doing well?”

A stetson bobbed towards him, its owner looking up rather curiously at James. “Oh, I remember you. You’re that new critter, come bounding into Equestria or somethin’,” Applejack said, tilting her head. “I reckon you’ve been settling in nicely?”

He thought for a moment, before nodding. His mouth curled downwards and his eyes widened, giving the appearance of approval. “You could say that. It’s been… fine.”

Applejack hummed in appreciation, turning back to her friends. “Well, I’m sure ya’ll are hungry—I sure am. I could eat the north end of a south-bound polecat. So whaddya say, we get this picnic goin’?”

 James sat quietly, watching over the picnic as it progressed. A motley smell of foods and various delights wafted around his nose. His and Twilight’s deliveries had quickly been sorted into the mix. The apple-based treats, baked by Applejack herself, had easily caught James’ fancy. Per the earth pony’s blessings, he had taken a couple of fritters and dumplings for himself, enjoying the delicacies in a spot away from the others.

It had also seemed that Twilight’s friends had brought a collection of pets, their own, to take part in the festivities. A turtle crawled nearby, a peculiar rotor upon its back. A rabbit and a cat seemed to be in the middle of a fierce argument, alternating between high-speed pursuits around the picnic blanket and smacking at each other with paws and claws. A small alligator, its eyes wide and blank, gnawed at a pink, cotton-like mane.

But, what truly caught James’ interest, was a dog. He had first seen it romping around in the fields nearby, and it had been like love at first sight. James absolutely adored dogs—he had grown up around them as a child. This particular one seemed to be a border collie, its fur alternating between a dirty white and a soft brown.

At one point, the dog had approached James, sniffing at him with abound curiosity. Seizing the moment, and the dog, James alternated between eating away at his food, and scratching away at the collie’s fur. He didn’t know whose pet it was, but he didn’t particularly care. Neither did the dog, evidently, as it seemed to enjoy James’ attention a great amount.

Nibbling on a particularly delightful fritter, James did not notice a rainbow-maned mare creep up to him, her eyes slightly narrowed in minor suspicion.

“You enjoying the food?”

James gave a grunt of surprise, nearly dropping the fritter as his head swiveled on his neck. “Hm? What?” He found the pegasus behind him, and James smiled awkwardly. “Oh, hey. Yeah, it’s alright.” Below his other hand, the dog angled its head up at James, as if questioning why he had stopped rubbing its fur.

The pegasus’ eyes narrowed even further, slight disapproval evident in her glare. “Only alright?”

James chuckled softly, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess that’s a misnomer. It’s really great—I think it’s been a long time since I’ve had something this good,” he said, glancing back to the group of ponies nearby. “I’ve got to give Applejack some thumbs up for these.”

“Thumbs?” she asked, looking down at his hands. “Those are the little things you’ve got on your claws, right? Unless your thumbs are different from Spike’s thumbs.”

He shook his head, chuckling again. “No, they’re the same,” he replied, looking around. “Speaking of which, where is Spike? I thought he’d be here with us?” Feeling a nudge upon his hand, James began to pet the dog again.

The mare shrugged, rolling her eyes. “I’unno. I thought he’d be here too, but who knows where he is.” She looked back at James, a smirk creeping across her mouth. “So, Twi’s got to have told you who I am, right?”

James hesitated, the gears of his mind working as he struggled to remember her name. Slight worry began to set in when he realized he could not recollect. Shrugging, James laughed nervously. “Uh…”

The rainbow-mare leaned in closer, a nonplussed expression on her face. “Hm? Do you know my name or not?”

“Rainbow… Rainboo Splash?” It sounded familiar, at least, and James dearly hoped that he was correct, or at least close enough. His hopes were dashed, however, when his acquaintance moaned in frustration, throwing her hooves into the air.

“I expected the egghead to have told you my name,” she grumbled.

“Why’s that?” James asked cautiously. She took flight in response, projecting a rather heroic pose in the air—or at least tried to. It all looked rather silly to James, in truth.

“’Cause I’m the fastest flyer in all of Ponyville!” she exclaimed. “Rainbow Dash, future Wonderbolt, at your service!”

James was confused, yet his interest was also piqued. “Wonderbolt?” he asked, tilting his head. “What’s that?”

Evidently, it wasn’t the right thing to say. Rainbow Dash gasped, her cry of shock bordering on a shriek. “What?!”

He recoiled backwards, surprised by Rainbow’s sudden outburst. “What’s wrong?” he raised his hands in front of him, palms outward. “Should I know what they are?”

“Ugh, whatever. It doesn’t matter,” Dash groaned, wiping a hoof across her face. Narrowing her eyes towards James, she took a suspicious expression. “But you’re not some monster looking to take over Equestria or nothin’, are you?”

Taken aback, James shook his head. “Uh, not that I know of,” he said, an eyebrow raised. “Why do you ask?”

“Ponyville and Equestria have had enough bad guys trying to ruin things,” Rainbow Dash answered, looking away. “I’m not gonna let a single one of ‘em destroy my home, and attack my friends. I’m keeping an eye on you anyways, just in case.”

With a beat of her wings, Dash fluttered away, returning to her friends. James was greatly confused, yet figured that he could ask Twilight later. Perhaps this Rainbow Dash was particularly attached to her friends, and was wary of any potential intrusions. James was rather familiar with that kind of situation, having seen it plenty of times at his workplace amongst his students.

Shrugging to himself, James resumed his attention on the dog, chuckling with glee as it wiggled with pleasure under his scratching hands. He did not notice as yet another mare approached him.

“The hay are you doin’ to my dog, sugarcube?” a southern twang asked. James’ head shot up, slight alarm in his eyes.

“Huh?”

There, standing in front of him, was Applejack. She held an expression of deep concern, unsure of what she was seeing. “I asked what you’re doing to my dog, Winona. Though, I can’t say she ain’t enjoying it.”

James let go of Winona, glad to learn her name yet flustered nonetheless. The dog whimpered and whined, and he chuckled nervously. “Uh, sorry. I was just petting her. I, uh… I like dogs.”

“I can tell,” Applejack deadpanned. After a moment, however, she burst into laughter, sitting down and reaching for Winona. Pulling her closer, she began to pet the dog herself. “Seems she was enjoying your pets a lot more than she enjoys mine. I reckon it’s ‘cause of those hands of yours.”

James smiled, holding his hands up. “Yeah. I guess hooves aren’t the best tool for scratching things?”

Applejack nodded silently, massaging Winona’s back with a hoof. A few seconds passed in silence, before she looked back up at James. A curious look was about her, though Applejack looked the least bit reluctant—perhaps even embarrassed.

“Something on your mind?” James asked.

“Oh, it’s nothin’,” she responded, frowning. “Just a stupid question, probably barkin’ up the wrong tree anyways.”

He shook his head, giving a low chuckle. “Ask away, Applejack. There’s no such thing as stupid questions.” That was a lie.

After a few moments Applejack sighed, shrugging. “Oh, alright. I was just wonderin’, what’s it like? Having hands?”

James pursed his lips, having not expected the question. “Well, I mean… I guess it’s alright?”

“I reckon it’s gotta be more than that, sugarcube,” Applejack replied, rolling her eyes. “I mean, we ponies get by easily enough with our hooves. But I could see those hands of yours being mighty useful from time to time. Same as Spikes’ claws.”

James shrugged in response. “Sure, yeah. The thumbs do a lot of the work, though. Our hands would be kind of useless in a lot of regards without thumbs.”

Her eyes closed, Applejack nodded. “Well, I guess that makes enough sense. Though,” she eyed James weirdly, glancing back at her friends. “Why are you sitting here all by your lonesome? Why not join me and the others?”

“Didn’t want to intrude,” James answered plainly, leaning back on his hands. “You girls seemed to be having enough fun as it was, anyways.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow, a slight frown marring her visage. “Does what Rainbow said got anything to do with it?”

“You heard that?”

She nodded, stepping closer to James. “I did. But don’t worry about what she said, Rainbow didn’t mean none of it,” she assured him. “Gal’s just had a lot of trouble lately. In fact, I reckon we’ve all had some.”

“What, you and your friends? What’s going on?”

Applejack shook her head, a slightly glum look upon her. “Nah, not just us. All of Equestria. It just seems like every other day, some rotten, cherry-pickin’ villain comes and tries to take over, or just cause some trouble for all our folks. Chrysalis, Sombra… who knows who’s gonna be next?” Sighing, she gave a light shrug. “I can tell why it’s got some folks on edge. Hayseeds, I reckon even Princess Celestia herself has got her britches all worked up. And now you’re here, some critter nopony’s ever seen before.”

James did not answer, unsure of how to go about his words. After a moment, however, Applejack seemed to cheer up, as if a dark cloud had lifted from above her head.

“Eh, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear a mare rattle off about stupid things. Why don’t we join the others, have some fun?”

She offered a hoof towards James, smiling warmly at him. He grasped it firmly, noting Applejack’s rather formidable strength, before pulling himself up to his feet. Nodding down at her, James followed Applejack back to the others.

The news was troubling, to say the least, but James was sure he could show the ponies of Equestria that he meant well.

Part I - Chapter Eight: Coughs and Cures

James tried to breathe, but his chest ached, tightening with every strained heave. He awoke simply enough, yet though his gaze flickered this way and that way, he could not make sense of the blurs, the fuzzy outlines that denoted reality. Beads of sweat dribbled down his cheek, cold and sticky, and tears, warm and salty, welled up in his eyes, flicking away when he snapped up from his bed.

He could not breathe! He was choking!

He gave a pained cry, sounding almost like a squeal. One hand flew to his neck, the other clutching at his chest. A burning fire seared inside him, its scorching tendrils licking at his lungs. James could barely feel his legs move beneath him, thrashing about like a dying spider. He barely registered the sharp throb, the sudden thud as his body fell to the ground beside his bed. Somehow rising to his knee, James struck his chest with a closed fist, his suffered gasp alight with pain and panic. Another blow, this one even more forceful, and another. On and on, James punched at his chest, his face a cold white.

His chest was fire itself, his lungs screaming like the damned!

“James!” A voice made its way to his ears, ringing through the cacophonous blend of terror and torment. “James, are you okay?”

Someone grabbed him by the shoulder, wrenching him around. James’ eyes barely registered a lavender form, twin spheres of white and violet looking upon him like beacons of light. He gave a gag as a response.

“Hold on, James!” Suddenly, he could not move, an electric tingle rolling across his flesh. His choking fit ceased, his pained gasps forced down his throat. “This might hurt a bit!”

He was blinded by a golden-white light soaring towards him. The fire in his chest magnified, a hellish inferno blazing in his lungs and heart. Then, like a loving embrace, a soothing warmth replaced the agony. It rolled across his chest, a hot stew of restoration clasping the pain. Slowly, steadily, James’ breaths relaxed, the tension across his body lifting, relieving. His colorless face reddened, his taut fingers loosening. James’ vision cleared, his strained eyes blinking away the tears.

“Twilight?” he croaked, his eyelids heavy. Before him sat his host, her face fraught with worry and fear.

“It’s okay James,” Twilight said, nodding slowly. “It’ll be okay.”

It sounded more like she were reassuring herself, but James weakly nodded nonetheless. “I think I will be.” His body slacked, slowly unfolding backwards as he rested his head upon the floor. “Still hurts a little, though.”

“What happened?” Twilight asked, and James turned to look at her. She was visibly panting, exhaustion evidently setting in. He shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“Lungs caught,” James replied, returning a hand to his chest. “When that happens, I can’t breathe, at least for a little while. I haven’t had one that bad in a long, long time, though…”

The unicorn raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on James. “You mean you’ve had them before? How do you—how do you live with that? And why did it happen just now?”

“Well,” James began, slowly sitting up. “Like I said, they’re usually not anywhere near that bad. Something must have triggered it, though. I… I may have had a bit of an intense dream. Thanks again, Twilight.”

She nodded, and the two fell into silence. James could see Twilight watching him from the corner of his eye. Her expression was still that of worry, as if she thought he might have another attack at any moment. After a second, however, her nose scrunched up, and Twilight stood to her hooves.

“Well, I know who we can go to. You should wash up, James, and get yourself ready.”

“Where are we going?”

Twilight turned around, making to leave the room. “We’ll be visiting a friend of mine in the Everfree,” she said, smiling back at James. “You can use the bathroom to wash up. I’ll see you in a bit, James.”

The Everfree was rather peculiar, to say the least. As James stood before the forest, his eyes wandering through its foliage, he couldn’t help but feel that somehow, the Everfree was unlike any forest he’d ventured through before. The trees themselves gave an ominous vibe, their trunks and branches looking somewhat like portentous masks of a motley of emotions. Gloom was the world here, and sunlight struggled to pierce through the boughs. It was a true curiosity, to be sure, and James was a tad apprehensive.

“So, your friend,” James began, tilting his head towards Twilight. “She lives in there?”

Twilight nodded, her ears pinned slightly back. “Erm, yes,” she said nervously. “It’s always a bit of a chore to see her, but she enjoys living in the Everfree, somehow.” She began to move forwards, steadily creeping into the forest.

James followed her, hot on her heels. “I can see why you’d be nervous. This forest doesn’t seem to be the most welcoming.”

“The Everfree is a curious case,” Twilight explained, trotting into the forest. “It always seems to be growing, expanding, and something about it lets the plants and animals prosper without any influence from ponies. The Everfree is really unnatural because of that.”

James raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “That sounds like the way it is back home. On Earth, nature just does its own thing,” he said, watching as one of Twilight’s ears perked to attention. “Human influence often results in nature being replaced by infrastructure and civilization, but we don’t mold or shape it otherwise.”

“Really?” Twilight asked, looking back at James with interest. “Because here, in Equestria, ponies have a hoof in a lot of aspects of nature. Earth ponies tend to the land, pegasi create and guide weather, and unicorns are particularly attuned to the magic of the world.”

James abruptly stopped, his expression that of confusion. “Wait one. You said pegasi create weather?”

Twilight nodded, turning to look at James. “Yes, pegasi do that. Is there a problem, James?”

He did not answer for several moments, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “Uh, I guess not. Just…” he trailed off, resuming his walk. “Kind of hard to believe you ponies actually make weather. Back home, weather is natural, humans don’t have a say in what happens.”

“That sounds like how it is in the Everfree,” Twilight replied, her brows arched as if she were deep in thought. “We should investigate that later—there could be a connection!”

James chuckled, silently listening as Twilight began to ramble. The trip passed rather quickly, and their conversation had dulled the intimidating aura of the Everfree Forest. Soon, they arrived in a clearing, a limp tree in the middle. Several windows seemed to have been carved into its trunk, and an orange glow emanated from its insides, a fairly pleasant aroma wafting through what looked to be a door.

“Here we are!” Twilight exclaimed, trotting up to the door. Once, twice, thrice she knocked, and James settled behind her, waiting patiently.

“Just a moment!” a voice cried from within. Crisp and somewhat sing-song like, it was highlighted by an accent, and James marked it to be Swahili, or whatever Equestria’s counterpart of East Africa was. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and James peaked in, curious as to who stood inside.

It was a… zebra? Indeed, the creature that awaited them possessed the same form and figure as any other pony of Equestria, yet her, and James was merely guessing on the gender, coat was a smooth pattern of black and white, identical to those a zebra would have on Earth. Her muzzle was more pronounced, however, and the zebra wore several pieces of jewelry, gold bracelets and torcs hanging around her hooves and neck respectively. Her eyes, a dark cyan, gazed at Twilight with familiarity and warmth, but quickly morphed into spheres of curiosity, and a tinge of apprehension, as she looked at James.

“Twilight, my friend!” she exclaimed, her smile wide and toothy. “What a surprise, for me you send?”

Twilight nodded, stepping closer to the zebra. “Zecora, it’s been some time! How’ve you been? I assume you’ve been well?”

“Indeed I am, but pay me no mind. For, who is this lamb, and will he be kind?”

James raised an eyebrow, finding Zecora’s manner of speech to be peculiar. Twilight giggled, looking back at James.

“Oh, James here? He’s fine, harmless. In fact, he is the reason I’m here,” she said, and James could not help but frown at her description of him. Harmless? He wouldn’t hurt a fly, or so he liked to think, but he wasn’t some innocent puppy to be coddled.

Zecora, on her part, shifted her gaze to James, her ears cocked as she tilted her head. “Is that so, and you are not foe?”

James nodded in affirmation, giving the zebra a kind smile. “Yes, I’m pretty sure I’m not a‘foe,’ perse but I do have a problem, and Twilight told me you could fix it, or at least help me.”

“Yes, yes, come inside, and in me you can confide.” She gestured for Twilight and James to enter, backing into her hut. After a moment, Twilight walked in, James following her. The aroma he had smelled earlier had grown in magnitude, its pungent scent containing hints of herbs and plants mixed together. Wooden masks were arranged upon the walls, each displaying a different emotion, while shelves upon shelves held a plethora of bottles and glasses. In the middle, a black cauldron sat above a roaring fire, a bubbling concoction boiling and toiling within.

“Welcome to my hut, I hope you find it comely. Please excuse the mess, you arrived rather abruptly,” Zecora intoned, motioning around her hut.

Twilight shook her head, smiling at Zecora. “It’s no problem, Zecora, though I’m sorry we came on such short notice. But we could use some of your… medical expertise.” Zecora’s head titled, gesturing for Twilight to continue. “You see, James here has a bit of a… problem. This morning, when he woke up, his lungs had caught, and he couldn’t breathe.”

“And what is the cause, so that I may find the right gauze?”

The unicorn turned to James, urging him to explain. He gave a low sigh, before explaining. “My lungs, uh, they may have had a hole in them at one point or another,” he said, shrugging. “I’m not going to explain what happened, but I can assure you that it has been fixed, to an extent. I still have trouble breathing, but I haven’t had any sort of attack like the one this morning in a long, long time.”

Zecora slowly nodded, while Twilight merely stared in mild sympathy. He had told her the same earlier, before they had departed for the Everfree, but while she had pressed further for a bit, curious to learn more about his injury, James had been loath to explain.

“Well, I may have a solution, so there is no need to fret. Merely come with me, and you’ll find your needs will be met,” Zecora replied, turning towards her cauldron. After a moment of hesitation, James followed, staring anxiously into the cauldron’s contents.

“Hm,” Zecora began, a hoof scratching her chin as she stood in thought. “A dash of aloe, and perhaps a little lily. And a certain pinch of Dusk’s Bright, a gift from a certain filly.” Quickly, with a hint of tribal grace, the zebra wandered across her shelves, picking a variety of herbs and plants from the walls.

James raised a finger, attempting to speak. “Uh, what, exactly, are we trying to accomplish here? You think these plants are going to help?”

“Indeed they will, but we must not spill,” Zecora threw her ingredients into the cauldron, the bubbly liquid hissing and steaming in response as wispy trails of smoke rose from the concoction. “For, while I have plenty of peppermint, eucalyptus is what I must hint. Too much, and it will burn, and with too little your brain will churn.”

“Oh,” James muttered, his eyes wide. “You—you’re sure this will help. Because, well, I don’t think I really need it that much…” He felt a punch on his leg, wincing as Twilight glared up at him.

“You’ll be fine, James. Zecora knows what she is doing, and I’d really rather not see you suffering like you were in the morning again.”

James raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, it’s no problem,” he said, continuing to watch Zecora. “Sorry for questioning you, Zecora.”

“Do not worry, my dear friend,” Zecora replied, steadily raising a ladle as she turned back to James. “Though, I am sure that with this brew, your ailments will mend.” She motioned for him to drink.

James frowned, but after a moment of hesitation, accompanied by another nudge from Twilight, he took a sip from the ladle, swallowing the potion. It tasted rather bland, and at first, he felt nothing, but soon, a warm, soothing sensation, not unlike the feel of Twilight’s magic earlier in the morning, set within him, seemingly resting where his heart would be. He felt a bit of strength return to his limbs, strength that he had been sorely lacking in the past.

“This,” he began, holding a hand at his chest. “This… I feel wonderful!” James took a deep breath, savoring his long-forgotten ability to suck in a bountiful amount of air and oxygen. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time!”

Zecora smiled at him, her eyes happy. “This is good to hear, and I am sure you are glad. But please to take care, for you only drank a tad.”

James chuckled, his spirits rising. He placed a hand on Zecora’s back, looking down at her gratefully. “Thanks, Zecora. I really appreciate it. I don’t know I can repay you for this.”

“Repay me with your friendship, that is all I need. It is good to see a fellow so agreed,” Zecora rhymed, turning back to her cauldron. “You will need more though, I am sure, so I will make extra, and deliver to you your cure.”

Twilight stepped forwards, nodding towards Zecora. “Thank you very much, Zecora. You’ve been a great help. Have good day!”

Princess Luna knocked her hoof upon the door once, twice, before standing back. A moment later, her sister’s voice called from inside, melodic and pleasant.

“Luna? Is that you?” The door swung open and, inside, Luna could see Celestia sitting in her usual place. The fireplace before her was lit, its flames a warm orange, and a red quill floated in her magical grasp, scribbling away at a piece of parchment. Celestia looked up, smiling at Luna.

“Come in, Luna, come in!” she enticed, gesturing with her head. Returning her smile, Luna entered Celestia’s private room, the shoes around her hooves seamlessly sailing across the lavender carpet.

“Writing back to Twilight, Celestia?” Luna asked, coming to a stop above her sister. She sat down beside Celestia, her fur rubbing softly against that of her sister. “What has she told you about this time?”

Celestia giggled, returning her attention to the letter. “Oh, nothing important, for the most part. No friendship problem this time, though I hope she's learnt her lesson by now.” She dipped her quill in a pot of ink before resuming her writing. “Honestly, I can’t believe the filly thought she needed to send me a letter about a friendship problem every week.”

She rolled her eyes, giving Luna an amused look as her ears pinned to the sides of her head. After a moment, the two sisters broke into laughter, their voices carrying throughout the small room.

“Oh yes, you did tell me about that. How long ago was it? A few months ago?” Luna said between giggles, shaking her head. “Does say a lot about her character, though, doesn’t it?”

Celestia nodded, her laughter trailing off as she resumed her grip on her quill. “I guess it does, Lulu. Though,” she momentarily looked up, a contemplative expression on her face. “There was a matter of note. Twilight wrote to me about her and James’ first session.”

Luna leaned in, cautious interest gleaming in her eyes. “Hm? And what did we learn?”

Her sister shook her head. “Not much, but some of it was noteworthy. From what Twilight told me in her letter, it’s very clear that we’re not dealing with them,” Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Unless, of course, James Volker is lying. Which brings me to why I summoned you here, Luna.”

“About his dreams?”

Celestia nodded, setting her quill and parchment down. “Yes, that is correct. Sister, I trust you’ve looked into James’ dreams? What did you see?”

Luna was silent for several moments, thinking carefully on her next words. “Well, Tia, after what I saw last night, I must agree. James is clearly not one of the humans we’ve known.”

“What did he dream of?”

She sighed, looking away. “I think he dreamed of his foalhood. I saw a small foal—child, I guess. Acting much like a foal would, climbing into a tree as his mother scolded him,” Luna answered, before setting her gaze on her sister. “What I saw was a rather personal moment between mother and son, but I could also tell that things would not be as pleasant in the future. There was just… a rather unfortunate augur of things to come.”

“Anything else, Lulu?” Celestia prodded, leaning in.

Luna shook her head, a frown creeping across her mouth. “No, nothing else, but,” she trailed off, her eyes focused on those of her sister. “I’m afraid I’m not comfortable with looking into any more of James’ dreams. It seems like an invasion of privacy, peeking into all of these moments that are very clearly close to James’ heart.”

After a moment, Celestia placed a hoof on Luna’s shoulder. “Luna, I’m sorry. But we have to do this—you have to do this!” She began to rub her sister’s shoulder, massaging it slowly. “I understand you’re not completely comfortable with this, but, if not for me, do it for our little ponies. Just for a little while longer, so that we can be sure Equestria is safe.”

Luna did not answer immediately, lowering her head. Could she really continue her spying? True, one of her jobs as the Princess of the Night was to tend to ponies’ dreams, and soothe their fears and their nightmares, but that did not mean she actively observed on their every dream and vision, like an unwelcome outsider. But she knew Celestia was correct—her job was to keep the ponies of Equestria safe, and if it meant spying on just a few more of James Volker’s dreams, then she would have to endure it.

“Okay, Tia,” she finally responded, nodding her head. “I will do it, for a little longer.” Only as far as to make certain James was not their enemy. Celestia simply nodded, giving Luna a warm, loving smile.

“Thank you, Lulu.”