Prologue - Thinking
Droplets of perspiration hang in the thick, soggy basement air, mingling with motes of dust falling off of the old ceiling fan that’s turning at a slow, steady pace. It’s a cold autumn night, not that you’d notice that in an insulated underground chamber with no air conditioning. At least one of us at had the forethought to open the door a sliver and get a little air flow in here. I’d imagine with that thing sealed, we’d eventually run out of oxygen, and by then we’d all be too tanked to notice.
“Call.”
The squeaking legs of one of our scrawny little chairs is accompanied by the groan of the floorboards as one player leans forward, pushing a few coins to the center of the round table that serves as today’s battlefield. There’s already a significant pile waiting there, the golden hue of the bits shining slightly in the soft light of an old brass candelabrum adorned with four half-melted candles. Matching their faint glow, the orange-coated mare to my right sneaks a peek at her two face-down cards. Looking up, she seeks out her opponents around the thick oaken tabletop, brows furrowed in scrutiny, chewing her lip as she decides her next move. Finally, she picks out three bits from her stack with the tip of her hoof and pushes them in as well.
“Call.”
It’s a bit funny, actually. Saturday night, and here we are in this cramped old bar basement, pissing away our earnings over a game of cards – throwing glances over our shoulders every few minutes as if the doors would be busted open any second by the long and hard hoof of the law. An odd concern, considering the age-old tradition of exchanging salaries by means of poker had no direct legal ramifications whatsoever. I suppose it might be a byproduct of the sleazy tavern atmosphere; if anypony were to come busting in here it’d probably be the proprietor’s daughter, mops blaring and dispensing a few choice words about her slob of a father.
Shrugging humorously at my own cider-fueled musings, I reach down below the table to grab one of the few bottles of fuel left in the crate we had brought in.
“Scott,” a black, golden-eyed pegasus stallion tiredly calls out from across the table, wetting his lips and throwing his deep red mane out of his eyes. “Grab one for me?”
I snicker, standing up to reach over the table, my free hand on the table edge to support my sleepy, stumbling legs.
“You probably should lay off, Misty,” I say in good humor as he snatches the beverage from my outstretched hand. The stallion snorts in response, biting off the cap and spitting it out in the corner in one swift motion.
“I’m not a light-weight, Scott.”
Looking at the almost half-dozen empty bottles of hard cider that litter his side of the table, I shake my head. “Obviously.”
“How many left?” asks the light gray earth pony in the chair on my left, bending down to look in the crate. “What, we’re almost out? Already?”
“Look who’s talking, Steam,” the orange mare points to the empty bottles by the colt’s seat with amusement. The accused squirms, his head bobbing back and forth as he tries to answer her.
“Well… it’s really hot in here, Summer. I think somepony messed with the thermostat.”
Misty shakes his head, eyeing his five empty bottles and muttering his assent. On his left, the sleek black form of my chitinous would-be-friend Janus smirks, throwing his hole covered hooves out dramatically before bringing them back in a clap.
“Then on account of our precious stash mysteriously evaporating, how about we step it up a notch?” he chuckles darkly before committing a considerable sum to the center. “Raise.”
There’s venom in the air as the other participants regard the changeling with a mix of fear, resolve and frustration. Summer shakes her head, pushing her cards back. “Fold.”
My mind starts occupying itself once again with pointless reflections as I inattentively watch the play continue, having backed out myself before it came to this point. It’s… pleasant, just spending some time like this among good friends. Even if money is involved, I find that I’m not antagonistic to any of my co-players in the slightest. Maybe it’s the warm feeling of the cider in my gut, telling me to throw away all of my worries and just have some mindless fun.
Playing mind games.
With a changeling.
Well, I’m probably going to be too hung-over to care about being bankrupt come tomorrow.
…This is a strange place. Since coming here, I’ve noticed myself beginning to change subtly, with every new step and every new strange creature I encounter. There is no feeling of stagnation here. Maybe it’s something about the clean air, or the good, kind people. Or, indeed, the assholes, I think with a fleeting look at the smirking jerkoff opposite me. Maybe I just needed a change of scenery. Maybe I just needed to be brought out of my comfort zone. I sigh pensively - it feels like I seldom get to lean back and just let my mind go about its business without any new strange events throwing me off course.
I’m not entirely sure how it came to this, but sitting in the basement of this seedy bar, going through progressively shittier hands, it seems my mind has finally caught up and has started trying to piece together my puzzle. Who’d have thought gambling and alcohol would facilitate enlightenment?
I’m brought out of my trance as I notice Janus collecting the pot, his wings buzzing gleefully as Steam grumbles – the grey stallion moping about his deposit being taken away by his arch-nemesis. A new round means a new dealer, and the changeling passes the button over to tonight’s only female player. I glance over to my right, and Summer seems to take to her new role with gusto, as she cuts the deck with a level of expertise I find baffling considering her total lack of digits.
The new hand she sends my way only serves to reinforce my prediction of leaving penniless tonight – two of spades and five of diamonds. And here I am, agreeably drunk and unable to bluff my way out from under a newspaper. I post the blind, but fold during the first round of betting to Jan’s great delight.
“Wussing out, humie? You gonna play some cards tonight or just admire the ceiling?”
I tiredly flip him off, and he gives a raspy chuckle at the glares shot his way by my two friends next to me.
“Oh, get over it. Here’s an idea; why don’t you gentlecolts try keeping an eye on your respective stacks of bits? I think I can see them dwindling even now!”
My stack of bits is actually nothing to scoff at, if for no other reason than for me repeatedly being dealt junk cards that I didn’t have any illusion of being able to win with – but leave it to the shape-shifter to possess the perfect poker face. Don’t know what he plans to do with the spoils, though; can’t exactly go to the supermarket and buy out their stock of pickled affection… and somehow I sincerely doubted changelings had any need or reason to accessorize.
Hey, maybe he just wants a plasma TV.
Anyhow; assuming I remember anything of this night come morning, I need to remind myself to never invite Janus to play hold’em ever again. Well, maybe if I get to be his manager.
“Check,” Steam decides with a tap of his forehoof, passing the turn over to a guy who we probably shouldn’t have invited either.
FINALLY, IT IS MY TURN!
The low rumbling of Z’s voice echoes throughout the room, carrying a weird, throaty undertone that never fails to make me slightly uncomfortable. And well, that’s really the term when it comes to Z; uncomfortable fits him like a freakish alien glove, and he’s troublingly enough proud of the fact.
CHECKING SEEMS LIKE A WISE MOVE, YES.
I don’t know what his accent’s supposed to be either, but I have the sneaking suspicion that he randomly changes it when you’ve just about nailed it down.
“F-fold,” Misty mumbles, downing a huge swig of his bottle.
Janus shrugs playfully. “Well then, I’ll just check as well. You may all enjoy the company of your hard-earned cash for just a little while longer.”
JUBILATIONS.
Wait, how did Z even score the dough to get in on this game? Does he even have a job?
I catch Misty taking another swig from his cider bottle as the flop comes up, and I finally remember I was just about to grab one myself. I take a gander at the crate, picking up a bottle and using its neck as an attention-getting poking device. Steam is not amused.
“Get a bottle opener, already. Holy heaven.”
“Isn’t opening bottles your special talent?” I tease him. “Come on, I’ll let you have a sip.”
“How depressing wouldn’t that cutie mark be,” Steam snorts before taking the bottle, cradling it between his hooves and biting off the cap. He takes a swig before hoofing it back my way. “I ought to take this out of your rent-“
“Raise,” Summer calls, Steam all but sent reeling as he sees the amount laid forward.
“Speaking of, I do want to have at least one figure on my account by then. Fold!”
UM. CALL.
“Call!”
Misty’s exclamation buys him a few odd looks from the others, Janus groaning almost inaudibly. Slowly noticing his co-players’ expressions, the black stallion nods sagely to himself before preparing another announcement.
“Raise!”
At this point Janus cradles his head in his hooves. “Misty for the love of plot.”
“Ha! Shouldn't have un- uh, underestimated me, h-huh?”
“Misty, you already folded!”
The pegasus looks around, eyes wide and blinking repeatedly. “Huh? O-oh, maybe, yeah.”
“Look- maybe you really should just-”
“I fold!”
The changeling sighs in defeat, patting his companion on the back. “…A brilliant move, my friend. As for me, I call the bet of the lovely orange lady luck over there.” He winks, and Summer gives him an eye-roll in return. This seems to be their typical back-and-forth – well, Jan’s typical back-and-forth with any mare, by my experience.
As Summer puts out the next card on the table, she takes a second to peek at her hand again, lifting them up with her hoof in that physically improbable way that ponies always do things. As she puts them down again, I get a weird tingle up my spine - turning to the other side of the table, I’m greeted with the sight of a freakishly long, emaciated hoof with tufts of peach-colored fur tapping the side of the table ineffectually.
“Z?” Summer asks with her muzzle wrinkled. “What are you doing?”
THE SUMMER PONY PICKS UP CARDS WITH ITS HOOVES!
“…and you wanted to try it yourself,” she finishes for him. He provides no acknowledgement, but the hoof continues to tap at Z’s cards for a couple of seconds without result.
…IS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS.
“…Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”
TEACH ME?
“Mmaybe later, Z.”
The hoof retracts into a massive mahogany dresser in the far corner. Seconds later a thin, shadowy tendril snakes its way out of the opening and timidly lifts Z’s cards before again putting them down, slinking back inside without making a sound. Everyone just looks at the piece of furniture unblinking until it rumbles as the creature inside clears its throat.
WHY HAS THE PLAYING STOPPED? DID I MAKE YOU…
Oh, here he goes. You know how there are some frequencies of sound that are so low that the human ear can’t pick up on them, but they somehow make you feel nauseous?
Z does that sometimes.
I don’t hear what he actually says, but it’s not exactly difficult to guess. I rub my forehead as I’m buffeted by a brand new headache that I don’t think can be solved even with a hefty application of cider.
“Shut up, Z.”
OH; YES, AS YOU SAY. HUH HUH.
Traditional competitive banter is exchanged as the three players left play through the rest of the hand, everything coming to a head finally with Summer taking the pot to Jan’s displeasure. Z is finally eliminated, having played extremely poorly all night. He hung around pretty long for someone who’s never even seen a playing card before today, to be fair. With a few congratulations to the other players, he remarks that he will await the result of the game with great interest, then closes the door to his dresser and goes to sleep.
The round finished, Summer scoots over the dealer button to me, and I gather up all the cards from across the table and start shuffling the deck. I guess I don’t really have anything against Z, but he’s just… really weird. I simply can’t get along with him. Seeing him eliminated actually makes me feel a bit good, but then I feel really bad when I realize that this kind of makes me a jerk.
Finding an excellent excuse to leave my mind wandering, I start thinking about the people present. Steam is my good old buddy and roommate, taking me in shortly after I arrived. We share way more in common than I’d like to openly admit. A bit of a nervous, shy kind of guy, but get him talking about his stupid contraptions and the only way to shut his trap is to buy an automatic mechanical trap-shutter off of him. I see the light gray earth pony in my peripheral vision, swinging his cobalt tail in agitation. One new thing I learned about him today is that he sucks at poker. Also, he’s a sore loser.
Third, mix this with alcohol and the tinker becomes a tinker time bomb.
Yeah. Might not invite him to poker anymore either. I’m rapidly running out of friends to play cards with.
“Scott?”
Summer breaks my train of thought, and I realize I’ve been shuffling the deck for more than a minute. Poorly, I might add, compared to the girl who doesn’t have any freaking fingers.
“Uh, r-right,” I stammer, dealing the cards to all remaining players. The earth pony mare still looks at me with her brows furrowed, no doubt concerned about my current level of sobriety, or more aptly, lack thereof. She shakes some strands of her amber mane out of her face, looking at her cards, but she still shoots a glance at me every now and then as if I’d just keel over any second.
Lately, I notice she’s gotten into the habit of mothering me for whatever reason. I originally didn’t picture her as the worrying type, but then again my first impression of her happened to be just that – a quite literal interpretation of the term, one might say.
I shake my head, bringing up my cider for another swig. Women.
“What have you cursed these cards with?” the most heavyweight drinker in the room, also the least sober, suddenly exclaims. Misty bumps Janus in the shoulder, waving the cards in front of him. “How do you explain this?”
Janus blinks dumbly in response. “Uh, those are actually really good cards, Misty.”
“…I can feel your stink on them.”
“Excuse me?”
Janus swats away the pegasus’ persistent hoof, his face twisted in a grimace as he coughs harshly a few times.
“Gracious, you sure you didn’t just smell yourself?”
“Getting me these cards is part of your scheme, no doubt.”
“But I’m not even the dealer!”
Summer pounds her hoof on the table. “Misty, knock it off!”
“You should call it a night,” Steam concurs. “With that amount of cider in your system you’re liable to walk home broke.”
“Hear, hear,” Janus mockingly proclaims, waving his hoof. “You listen to Steam now, he knows what he’s talking about. Hay, he’d be liable even without the cider!”
“How about you clam it, fang-face.”
I roll my eyes as I hear the fake, shrill gasp, knowing what comes next.
“You wound me!”
Steam growls, putting his hooves on the table as he takes the opportunity to vent all of his frustration. “Sounds like a plan, insect!”
“Steam, sit down! Do I have to be the only voice of reason in here?”
“What’s all this racket?”
The disapproving gravelly baritone brings us back to the present. Looking behind me, I see that the door has indeed been busted open, but not by the long hard hoof of the law, nor by an obsessive compulsive avatar of cleanliness – but rather by the large, heavy form of the owner himself. His dark gray mustache wiggles as he takes in the scene, muscles tensing underneath his auburn coat – no doubt still judging whether or not he has to break something up.
Summer perks up instantly. “Dry Glass! Get over here, teach these boys some manners!”
“Hah!” Janus exclaims, clicking his tongue. “Well-mannered I am, my dear, but only when I care to show it.”
“Hm, hard to imagine,” the old earth pony stallion replies, his thick voice reverberating against the walls. Walking over to the table, he looks at our respective holdings before casting a gaze out the door. “It’s closing time, so ah’m gonna have to ask y’all to wrap up.”
Steam and Janus both groan like children told to go to bed. Apparently they can agree on something.
“It was just going so well, though!” Steam says, pouting. “Things were finally picking up for me!”
“In wh-what universe?” I hear Misty mutter under his breath, but Steam either doesn't notice or care.
“Well…” the bartender drawls, rolling his eyes and tapping a hoof against his chin in mock-thought. “Far am ah from somepony who’d let a changelin’ walk away from a game with more bits than when he en’ered…”
“See?” Steam agrees, his nemesis twitching in silent laughter, no doubt expecting to get a few more additions to his growing pile of conquests. He bumps me in the shoulder, and I blink blearily as I realize I’m somehow back in the conversation again.
“Scott, come on!”
“Uh? O-oh, yeah, sure.”
I can guess Summer’s having that same bothered frown on just about now, but I’m not going to turn around to find out. Turns out I don’t have to.
“Scott, maybe you should call it quits. You’ve been pretty out of it all night.”
“Worse than me, an' I-I have an excuse,” Misty chuckles in agreement.
Dry Glass looks at the fretful mare with an eyebrow raised, then back at me.
His mustache wiggles.
“Missin' somethin’ here, ain’t I?”
“Missing what?”
His eyes widen suddenly, before he shakes his head, pulling up a stool from a stack by the entrance.
“You mind?”
I rise from my seat and move down the edge a bit to give the enormous stallion space as he pushes his stool in between me and Steam, sitting down with a quiet groan.
“Deal me in. I think it’s about time you and me had a lil' talk.”
“Talk?” I ask, confused now. What was this all about? “Talk about what?”
He turns to me, some sympathy shining through his dull, dark eyes. “Look, we all get to this point sooner or later. Maybe this ain’t the best place, but…”
He glances at Summer, then at the mostly empty cider crate.
Hold on a second- Wait- don’t tell me he thinks-
“Yer all… greased up anyhow, so ah think it’s time ya tell us yer story from the top.”
Okay, so this isn’t that talk. I think.
Either way he takes my lack of response as his cue to elaborate.
“Yer in a strange place right about now, Scott, one we all get to sooner or later. Ah can tell you’ve done some thinkin’. So, tell us what yer thinkin’… and we tell you what we’re thinkin’. It’ll make life easier on ya, trust me.”
“Oh, gods!” Janus exclaims in realization, pointing an accusatory hoof in Dry’s direction. “You’re just joining up to turn this into group therapy!”
As per his usual response, the bartender regards him with polite indifference. “Problem?”
Janus is left with his jaw open, hooves on table, with no witty comeback in sight. Finally admitting defeat, he slumps back down. “…Whatever. Who would I be to dismiss the importance of gambling and booze as prime tools of psychiatry.”
Dry merely snorts at his antics. “That's psychology," he says tapping at his cutie mark, a spyglass. "An’ y’all’ve had enough.”
Not waiting to hear Janus’ response, he turns back to me. “What d’ya say? You jus’ start talkin’, then we fill in with a few of our own experiences. It’ll help ya get a grip on things.”
I shrug. “Sure, I guess.”
He turns back to the changeling, who’s occupying himself with repeatedly spinning a gold coin under his hoof. “Well?”
“You’re the boss,” Janus answers with a sigh, “But I’d like for it to be on the record that this can only end in one great, massive circle-jerk.” He slams down on the coin, picks it up in front of his face, and then flicks it back down to the center. “…I just have a feeling.”
"Well, yer feelin' is duly noted," Dry says with a roll of his eyes. He pushes me lightly with his hoof, giving me a smile. "Don't let'em get to ya. He knows to keep 'is trap shut when he needs to, anyway."
Janus snorts, but doesn't speak up. I nod slowly as I try to put my thoughts into words. "I... was thinking," I say. "You know, about this whole deal. I don't think I've really had the chance to properly digest stuff until now."
I look to Dry, who nods in encouragement. "Why don't ya start from when ya got here."
I looked around the table. Steam and Summer were giving me their full attention. Janus was playing with a coin, but you never knew whether he was listening or not. Misty looked tired, but as curious as his intoxication let him be. A glance over at the big dresser in the corner revealed to me that the door was open a tiny sliver. Looks like I get to tell my story to the whole gang, then. I sigh, massaging my chin.
"Well," I begin, "I guess I started off not all that different from many of you..."
Chapter 1 - An odd encounter
Chapter 1 - An Odd Encounter
I can quite honestly say that, despite some impressive binges growing up, I've never woken up someplace and not known where I was. Sure, there were those slow mornings when it took me a few seconds to connect the dots of the preceding evening, but other than that I had always managed to wake up secure in the knowledge of exactly where I was and why. As the kind of person who's always kept to a very rigid framework of rules, I lived my life according to strict schedules that held very little room for this kind of surprises. With that in mind, when something takes me by surprise, I tend to react somewhat strongly.
So, imagine then being woken up in a lovely verdant glade by the first tentative rays of the morning sun, hearing the sounds of birds chirping each other good morning and the rustle of little critters running around bushes and scurrying up and down trees.
This was not on the schedule. It wasn't anywhere near the framework.
I’ll leave my exact reaction to your imagination - partly because the next few minutes were a bit of a blur - but suffice to say I've seldom looked worse than I did when I found my way back to the glade from the underbrush, patting bristles and leaves off of my clothes. Well, I say 'clothes', but I was actually dressed in nothing more than my light-blue pajamas. Why was I in a clearing, dressed in nothing but my nightwear? A frustrating and embarrassing question; I found myself a big enough rock to sit on as I put my head in my hands trying to figure it out. Fishing answers out of my hazy memory didn't work though, what with the added stress from being out in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, so I quickly decided questions could wait until I got out of the forest.
Gazing around the treetops, I decided to head east, towards the sun – I lived near the east coast, so that seemed like a good plan to me. Looking over my appearance one last time before setting off, I sighed and settled for just trying to pat off some of the stray dirt that caught on me. My pajamas had taken a serious beating from my earlier freak-out, but it's not like I had a change of clothes with me; I just had to hope that anybody I met on the road would overlook my alarming appearance. With that came the first steps on my journey: barefoot, dressed in my dirty, torn night clothes and looking like I just came back from wrestling a bear in a wind tunnel. Let it never be said that I don’t adventure in style.
It took me about half an hour of struggling down the winding natural pathways of the woods, stopping often to regain my sense of direction, before I happened upon a wide trail going east. My weary feet, stinging from an earlier encounter with a grove of nettles, took to the task with some gratitude. A trail that big means people and the lack of overgrowth means they passed through fairly often. I'd found signs of civilization, and now it was just a matter of following this little thread back to its weave.
The discovery left me mostly mollified, leaving my eyes to wander in earnest for the first time since waking up. It really was a beautiful forest, once you were done freaking out all over it. The trees looked healthy and colorful and I was surprised at how seldom I found any moss - even the rocks littering the side of the road boasted clean surfaces that differed completely from the admittedly limited amount of forests I'd visited. It was beautiful, but it was a somewhat odd beauty – an amusing thought, that all of that nature seemed unnatural to me!
While the moss was notably absent, I found that there was no shortage of woodland animals scurrying around as I kept trudging down the path. They gave me a wide berth, as animals usually do, though several of them stopped for a few seconds to look at the filthy staggering pajamas-person. I eventually managed to spot a family of wild bunnies out foraging; they didn’t pay any attention to me, though I almost stopped and stared at the rare scene that was playing before me. I saw a fox as I went further down the road. I really hoped the bunnies by then had left to try their luck at other feeding grounds.
The sun was about halfway on its rise to zenith when I reached a creek with a dusty old wooden bridge bearing the trail to the other side. It was as good a spot as any for me to stop and take a breather. The shallow water trickling down the creek was clear, so I figured it was safe enough to drink, cupping my hands in the cold water, to take a few gulps and splash my face. I tried to contend with my bed head for a while too, without much effect – I’d always needed hair spray to get my untamed scalp to cooperate and it brushed off regular water like nothing. My last vestiges of vanity utterly bested, my aching feet then picked the moment to remind me of all the punishment they had endured, so I rolled up my sleeves and leggings and sat by the edge with my feet in the water. The pain was getting number with the cold splashing over me, and I took my time to gently massage my sore spots and clean out the scratches I had acquired on the way.
A soft croak broke my concentration, making me look up to see a frog sitting in the water by the opposite bank, its face barely breaking the surface and its groggy eyes regarding me with what looked like incredulity. An incredulous frog? I snorted at the absurdity of what my mind had ascribed to the little creature. It croaked again, a sound like an audible raising of an eyebrow.
"You try to look any better after waking up in a forest in the middle of nowhere," I told the amphibian, but it didn't provide a response. “Heh, you wouldn’t happen to have any hair spray?” It shook its head and then croaked again, a slightly deeper sound as if expressing disbelief. I shrugged, letting the issue go and getting back to looking over myself for any other wounds that needed cleaning. We sat like this for a few minutes, me and the incredulous frog, before the cold of the creek became too much for me and I picked myself up again to continue my trek. "You have a nice day now, and wish me luck," I told the frog over my shoulder as I left. It croaked softly in response. I didn’t know what feeling to ascribe it that time, but I imagined it was something positive.
Fatigued and with feeling numb in my toes from how long I let them rest in the creek, I meandered on for maybe one more hour before the trees finally got sparser, then breaking away altogether and marking at last the end of the forest. I would've run the last stretch, but after more than two hours of walking barefoot I didn't have much energy to spend. The view from the forest edge easily made up for my sour mood, though.
If the woods were beautiful, the rolling vista that spread out in front of me was a masterpiece of nature; it was breathtaking, almost beyond description. I realized to my chagrin that I could never do it justice, despite how I pride myself on my ability with words. It was like a postcard, like one of those places you just see, thinking to yourself 'I'll go there one day' - all the while doubting whether or not the picture actually provides an accurate representation. But, well, there it was. Green hills, populated sparingly with trees and flowers, continuing on almost forever until, in the farthest reaches on the horizon, they met with the forested base of a range of cold, blue mountains that stretched like spires to the sky. The sky - I didn't notice it while most of it was obscured by tree tops, but its hue was much richer than any I had previously experienced, so deep that I was struck with a feeling of vertigo after staring at it for a short while.
I kneaded my hands then and wriggled my toes in the soft grass to get a feel for this wonderful sight, before I set my eyes on the trail continuing down the slope. No time like the present! My feet still ached, my legs were still sore, but I had a feeling that a town was just beyond sight and that the trail would carry me there. That thought spurred me on and it didn't take long before my earlier careful gait was traded for a more optimistic pace.
Well, after barely clawing my way up the fifth hill, I learned that some things are better appreciated from a distance.
Considering I've never been the kind of guy that cares much about fitness, the fact that I managed to get that far before collapsing was really an accomplishment. An empty one, maybe, given how it didn't really amount to any tangible improvement of my situation. It was a testament to my fatigue then, that despite my growing fears and anxiety I managed to fall asleep lying in the grass on the top of that hill.
I woke up around noon, a bit dazed and my body somewhat stiff from my ordeals. I couldn't have slept for long - but with how tired I was I considered myself lucky to wake up at all before the last sunlight. My muscles groaned as I brought myself into a sitting position, looking around to see if I could spot any signs of human life, but no such luck. There were no roads other than the trail I'd been on for the last few hours and no buildings of any kind wherever I swept my gaze - but then, in the distance, I saw a plume of smoke. A chimney? Standing up slowly and shielding my eyes from the sun with a hand, I peer at the white pillar that was rising from the horizon. It was way away from me; it was hard for me to tell the distance, but I knew I wasn't getting there anytime soon. Sighing, I began hobbling down the road again, falling every now and again as my legs started folding under me.
I hadn't been walking for long when my strained focus was suddenly broken by a sound - one I didn't expect, but which made me whip my head around in bewilderment. Was that a voice? Straining my ears and not daring to either move or breathe, I concentrated as fully as I could on my hearing. A painful few seconds passed, but then I heard it again - a soft voice carried over to me on the wind, the sound of singing. A girl? My heart thumped faster, almost painfully so, and I hurried towards the sound. The wind was treacherous though, forcing me to stop a few times to regain my bearings after losing the source. Within only a few minutes the voice grew stronger, more defined. It was the voice of a woman, and she was singing beautifully, carrying an unfamiliar tune with only the occasional lyrics. A sinking sensation grew in my stomach as I realized I must look like absolute garbage; my pajamas were even dirtier now from sliding down the hills in addition to the rips and tears from my trek through the forest. I briefly ran my options for conversation through my head as I got closer: 'I know this looks terrible, but hear me out', 'Woah, that was a wild night, let me tell you!' Or how about: 'Would you happen to know where I can find the nearest tailor, bath, bus station and my wallet?' My face was reddening already and I hadn't even had a chance to embarrass myself yet.
Coming up to an old oak tree, I leaned on it to catch my breath as I once again tried to pinpoint the location of the girl, when the sound of cloth catches my attention from somewhere on the other side of the tree. Feeling both elated and terrified, I leaned out to catch a glance of a picnic blanket being rolled out about thirty feet away from where I stood. The sight that greeted me beyond the blanket was enough for my building blush to swiftly drain out as I all but threw myself behind the oak, grasping my chest and panting loudly as I tried to get my heart back in rhythm. I didn't loosen my grip until my chest started to hurt from my stiff fingers, and only then did I dare to look again to see if the apparition was still there.
She was.
Spread out underneath a cherry tree was a clean, perfectly square red-white chess-patterned cloth, a blue vase of wild flowers sat in the middle and a huge wicker basket lying off to the side. The impossible being was just putting the finishing touches on the flower arrangement to the audience of a dozen birds and woodland animals, all of them lined up like a regiment awaiting orders from their commander. The officer in question, not paying them any attention, stepped back, looked over the results for a few seconds and then graced her platoon with a brilliant smile. Then, she spoke in the voice that I knew she would produce.
"Great work, everyone! Now let's lay out the dishes!"
Yellow. Four legs, two wings, light pink mane and tail; you know this person, and so did I. Stupefied, I was left slouched against the tree, rubbing my eyes with my free arm as if there was just some weird splotch of yellow and pink on my retinas that needed to be cleaned out. Needless to say, the young mare thought nothing of my weak attempts at erasing her existence and continued her business of setting up the picnic, humming softly as her animal friends rushed to aid her as best they could.
I hid in a nook in the shadow of that oak for a while. Not my proudest moment, but from what I hear it wasn't exactly the worst reaction for a first pony encounter. I could hardly dare to even take a peek at her- the song echoing around my head in that undeniable voice, her form never changing no matter how many times I told myself I must've seen something wrong. This couldn't be the result of madness, intoxication or any form of substance abuse - if it was, then how come everything stayed the same, stayed consistent, no matter how much I willed it to change? How come my pajamas were still torn and dirty, my feet sore and aching; how come the pony was still singing, still laying out dishes and still being surrounded by the her helpful little animals?
It was real - it had to be real - it felt real. None of the malleability of a dreamscape was here and not even the tiniest squirrel out there seemed to hinge any sort of existential weight on what went on in my mind. That pony out there was Fluttershy, which all at once explained how I had no idea where I was. I had become a human in Equestria, just like in the stories. Realizing I was stuck far away from what I had come to know as civilization, I was left with no idea of where to go or what to do.
But she could help me. She would help me; she would understand, or at least try.
'Go down there. Introduce yourself.'
What if she gets scared?
'She would help you.'
What if she runs away!
Dozens of scenarios flashed through my mind. There were loads of fanfiction about this sort of thing right? How did all of those guys manage? How do I approach a pony without being kicked in the head, thrown in a dungeon or somehow ending up with a willing harem of ten or more colorful tiny horses? All but burrowing my fingers into my forehead, I forced myself through the memory of every fanfiction I've perused of this nature, but I either didn't remember the important ones or I never read any that started off with the unlucky human making a good impression. My hands fell to my side weakly, and I fought the urge to groan; the longer I stayed and deliberated on it, the worse it would get. It was time to make a decision, to take a chance. Just behave in a calm, civilized manner with no sudden movements, I figured, speak slowly and politely and don't do anything stupid.
I gathered up the last of my courage and stood up, just as I heard some excited chatter right above my head, followed closely by the sound of wings taking flight. I had stood up too fast and scared off a family of birds in the tree!
"O-oh, um..." the voice drops considerably in volume, but I have no doubt where it's directed. "I-is somepony there?"
An image of Fluttershy's eyes, wide open in terror, burns itself into my mind. I begin hyperventilating, but manage to stop myself within a couple of seconds, cupping my hands over my mouth in a vain attempt to make my panicked panting less noticeable.
"U-um, if there is anypony there, you shouldn't- um, please, please don't hide..."
I swallowed my fears - she was getting more nervous by the second, and while that was a travesty in and of itself, it also hurt my chances at giving a decent first impression. I breathed in deeply, achingly pushing my back off from the oak tree and then I slowly stepped out into the sun. At that exact moment, a rustle was heard from the wicker basket, and Fluttershy turned her head to see a small white rabbit poke its face out. Between its paws was a half-eaten sandwich, from which it took a healthy bite as the pegasus fidgeted, her attention now firmly placed on the bunny and his lunch.
"Oooh, no, you can't eat those, Angel - those are for-"
I was almost thrown back as the half-pint rabbit let loose the mother of all belches, blasting Fluttershy full in the face so that her hair stood straight back like if she had flown into a jet stream. Discarding his half-eaten sandwich on the grass, Angel climbed out of the basket and gave a smug look over at his caretaker as she coughed quietly in the aftermath. The pegasus blinked tears out of her eyes, scuffing a hoof against the ground while looking from the bunny to the dropped sandwich.
"Uh... um, well, y-you can still have that one - i-if you really want to..." The bunny however turned his head sourly before beginning to hop away down the field. His caretaker bit her lip, her eyes widening before she suddenly shot up into the air, shaking in a panic. "It wasn't bad, was it? Was it??"
She began to flitter back and forth, leaving me to stand by my tree in a stupor. Muttering to herself, pupils dilated and trembling, she paid me no mind unlike the animals all around her who were stuck, frozen like statues with their wide eyes affixed entirely on me. "It was the jam, wasn't it? M-maybe it should have been raspberry? Ooh, why did I pick orange!" she hits her hooves to her head.
I realized that I was being totally ignored. This struck something deep within me – I had gathered all of my courage to reveal myself like this! The least she could do was look at me!
"Don't panic, don't panic! Stay calm, Fluttershy - all you need to do is go get some raspberry jam, and then come back before they get here!" The pegasus nodded to herself before rising high into the air, hoof shot above in what was probably meant to be a determined pose. "I'm gonna do it! I'm going to save this evening if it's the last – thing – I –“
I cleared my throat.
It was as if a jolt of electricity had hit her - her back arced, her coat stood straight and her wings locked up, leaving her to quickly fall to the ground whereupon she whipped around to finally see me. I could actually hear her jaw drop. "Um," I start off, looking at the sky as I try to come up with a good introduction. "Good... morning-ish? Afternoon?" I tend to not think very well under pressure.
She squeaked, shrinking away as she looked up at me with her face starting to take on a pink tone. "H-how long were you-" It was barely a mumble, but I caught the gist of it and searched for the appropriate response. I didn't want to embarrass her, but judging by where things were heading, I wasn't sure if that could actually be managed. "Just a little while," I answered, trying to ignore the stares of the animals, who still hadn't moved a muscle since I showed myself.
Fluttershy, meanwhile, was shrinking even further. "D-did you see...?"
"I saw your argument with the bunny, yes," I answered, her entire face at that point turning beet red as she squeaked and tried to hide behind her long pink mane. "Uh... miss?" My only response was another tiny squeak, her having apparently hit an embarrassment singularity and being completely incapable of vocalizing anything of substance. This situation was turning out rather badly by now - after all, what would another pony think if they were to come upon this scene? A young, innocent mare cowering before a tall, rugged, dirty creature - I'd be lucky if all I received was a switft kick in the face. Not wanting to wait for her friends to get to the picnic and mess up my chances, I quickly moved to defuse the embarrassment and get Fluttershy talking again.
"Miss, t-there's no need to worry - really, I'm sure your sandwiches are perfectly fine." Her squeak this time had a questioning tone, so I took it as an invitation to carry on. "Y-yeah, I'll even prove it to you, okay? I'll show you that there's no problem at all." Another squeak in the affirmative - this was my signal to attempt possibly the riskiest maneuver I had ever done for my whole life leading up to that point. I briefly eyed the animals, their unflinching collective gaze still locked on me. If I messed this up, I had no doubt that they would be eager to give my earlier scratches more company.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as much as possible, and then started walking towards the picnic, my movements slow but deliberate. The animals blinked, seeming to wake up finally from their shock as they started backing away from my approach. Fluttershy though still sat locked in place, staring at me from under her pink bangs. It was a nerve-wracking few seconds, but finally I got so close to her that I could reach out and touch her, close enough for me to see the individual hairs of her coat. Dwarfed by me as I stood almost twice her height, she was shaking where she stood, but to her credit not as much as I was. Trying not to alarm her, I slowly bent down to pick up the discarded sandwich and then stood back up. It looked completely fine to my eyes, aside from some strands of grass that were quickly brushed away. Hoping that Angel didn't carry around germs nastier than he was, I took a huge bite.
Fluttershy was looking at me then, still nervous but now at least able to move. I smiled shakily, "See? Perfectly f-fine. And I don't normally eat jam, either." I took another bite, slowly eating the entire thing as she started to come out of her shell, sitting back and looking at me eating with rapt attention. She still didn't dare to look into my eyes, but I barely had the guts to do the same. I made a show of sipping my fingers when I was done, which seemed to intrigue her, and she spoke up with a quiet voice.
"You're a human, aren't you?"
It took me off-guard; I had read a few fics, but I don't think I ever saw one where the ponies know about humans from the get-go. I sat down to hide my shaking legs, nodding to her as I answered. "Y-yeah, that's right," my voice cracked, but I cleared my throat softly and continued. "You've... met humans before?"
"Oh! Oh no, n-not really," she answered, her cheeks once again gaining a pink hue. "Mister Providence comes down to the Ponyville Market every few weeks, b-but I've always been too shy to...." She trails off, leaving me gaping in shock. Mister Providence? Too shy for what? If my mind was spinning before, Fluttershy had now added a new dimension and turned that spin three-dimensional. "Still, this is so... oh, I've always wondered what it's like to talk with a human! D-do you like sandwiches? No! Wait! You can't have th-these, but if you want some later, I could-"
She let out a gasp as she noticed the scratches on my arms and legs, fidgeting while she stood in mid-step, apparently debating whether or not she could get closer. "G-goodness! Are you hurt?"
"I had... a few close encounters with some thorny bushes, so yeah."
"Ohh, why didn't I bring a first aid kit with me-! Um, I-I'll take you to the hospital r-right away!"
"No, it's alright!" I say, throwing a glance at the picnic that was less than halfway laid out. "I don't want to intrude-"
"Oh, no-no-no, you're not intruding at all! But, um, just let me finish setting things up-" Before I had the chance to interject, Fluttershy was off like a bolt of lightning, plucking the different dishes out of the picnic basket and placing them on the blanket with terrifying speed and alarming precision. In less than ten seconds, the entire spread was laid out - two empty plates surrounded with saucers of sandwiches, fresh fruit and berries of all different kinds and even some small pastries. I spotted what looked like a bottle of wine in there as well. Nodding to herself, the yellow pegasus turned to me again with a shy smile. "-there! Now, just follow me and we'll get you fixed right up..."
She turned to leave, and I blinked dumbly at the perfect placement that she had somehow achieved in less time than it took for me to process her actions. "You're... abandoning your picnic?" She blinked at me in confusion before giving me a knowing smile. "Don't worry, this isn't for me. Griselda just really wanted my help with preparing her blind date today."
"Griselda?" Not a pony name I remembered - I wondered how close this world kept to the show. For all I knew, this could have been some weird fanfiction universe were everypony was just slightly off, or where there were loads of sloppily made OC ponies running around as if they somehow had any kind of importance. That's when I spot a humongous grizzly bear lumbering over the closest hill, my heart trying to beat its way out of my asophagus as my skin goes cold and I start stuttering almost soundlessly. It stood still, staring straight into my eyes before slowly ambling down towards the picnic with purpose - I could feel my body going numb with fear, but I forced myself to croak out a warning. "B-bear!"
Fluttershy just looks over her shoulder calmly. "Oh, that's her right now! Over here, Griselda!"
I tried telling myself to be rational as my pegasus companion waved her hooves - it's just one of Fluttershy's pets! This one just happens to be an enormous five-ton predator!
Needless to say, I was less than entirely reassured.
"Mister human, are you alright? You look so nervous-" She cut herself off with a shrill gasp, shooting into the air with her hooves covering her face. "C-could you be Griselda's date??" she squeaks, blushing hard as I tried to process her asinine question. She didn't give me any time for that, though, ohh no. "Oh, that's just so sweet of you, to think of poor Griselda even though she's not a human!" she flies up to me and gives me a hug, completely shattering any response I was thinking of. "B-but, what will society think?" She let go of me roughly before starting to hover back and forth, frowning. I shook my head, realizing that I had to nip this in the bud fast before I was left alone at lunch with a love-starved grizzly bear.
"Fluttershy."
"Are bears and humans... just too different?"
"Fluttershy!"
"No! I have no right to question Griselda's happiness! If you hold Griselda in your heart, then no matter how weird it is, I support your right to love!"
"Fluttershy!"
"Don't worry, mister human, I will make- um- I will-" her expression changed from kind determination to absolute befuddlement in slow-motion, before she once again dropped to the ground, eyes blinking continously. "Um... y-you know my n-name?"
I facepalmed softly as I realized my mistake, then quickly remembered that I had a misunderstanding to clear up before things went too far south. "Th-that doesn't matter right now - what matters is that you've made an unreasonable assumption about me here!"
"Oh! Um, I-I don't know wh-what I did, but I'm really sorry-" Right then, the bear put her nose in-between us curiously, making Fluttershy squeak in surprise and making my heart stop. "H-hello Griselda, I was just talking to mister human, here. How strange, that your date would turn out to be a human!"
I gasped for air impotently, clutching my chest to check if my heart was still beating, or if I needed to give it a swift life-giving punch. Griselda then turned her giant head slowly to me, her face all but covering my entire view and her beady black eyes looking into mine in confusion and curiosity, finding nothing but sheer cold terror in return. Stricken with absolute panic, I managed to stumble backwards, falling over myself and ending up lying on my stomach, my arms shaking like leaves as I weakly attempted to push myself up into a sitting position again.
"Oh, dear! Mister human!" Fluttershy cried out, running past the befuddled bear and over to me. "I-I forgot about your wounds! W-we need to get you to a hospital right away!" Pushing her nose under my stomach, she suddenly heaved me up on her back and almost giving me another heart attack. "I'm so sorry about your date, Griselda - j-just wait right here, I'll be right back!" She turned her head to me, her eyes filled with worry. "P-please hold on, mister human!" Then she took off down the hill, and it was all I could do to just hold on, my legs grazing the ground as my tiny steed sped forward towards the plume of smoke that marked Ponyville.
I had to take a moment to walk my memory back at that point, replaying the events to figure out what exactly had happened. I had woken up in Equestria, walked for hours, fallen asleep on a hill and then found Fluttershy preparing a picnic. Then I got to the point where we could talk openly and everything seemed to be going my way... and then, I saw a giant bear, Fluttershy hugged me, a lot of nonsense happened, and now I'm riding a pony to the hospital. I still wasn't sure what kind of Equestria this was, but I was starting to lean towards it being the complete idiot version. And, right about then, I felt that it would be sadly appropriate.
Being dragged along the road by a shy, butter-yellow pegasus almost half my size, I just hoped things wouldn't get any stranger.
"Well sir, you've had a rough morning, but you'll be glad to know we won't have to keep you for more than one or two hours. Though you should really make sure to get some rest when you can - you can't be up partying all day you know!"
I stared somberly at the brown stallion with the white doctor's coat, and he catched my hint fairly quickly, giving an apologetic smile. "Ah, I'll just go and talk to the wonderful girl who brought you in, then. Don't be afraid to call on the nurse if you need anything - it's the bell next to your bed!"
With that, the doctor pony left me to stew in my thoughts. I was alone in the room - though there was one more bed besides mine, its occupant had apparently left earlier this morning, leaving the entire room to myself. Finally finding time to relax, I studied my surroundings while I left my mind to stew. Tapestries of alternating shades of blue covered the walls of the room, wooden details everywhere replacing the plastic and metal that I was used to when it came to hospitals. I let myself fall back on the bed, dead tired, lifting my arm to inspect the generous helpings of gauze wrapped around it. I wasn't that hurt, but I guess they didn't know how to treat humans well and overcompensated a little. They all seemed so worried about me, despite both mine and the doctor's assurances that I was, for the most part, fine. Maybe they didn't encounter humans very often? Fluttershy mentioned something about a Mister Providence that came by every few weeks, so it was probably safe to assume that there weren't a lot of us around. The strangest thing I found was how they reacted when I told them my name. Wide eyes, whispering amongst themselves, the nurses excusing themselves to go do some unspecified work...
What in the actual Sam Hill was going on?
I was hardly unknown by this point - I had ridden Fluttershy all the way down to Ponyville Hospital after all, dragging my feet through half of Ponyville Mane Street - at noon on a Saturday, no less. I rested my head in my hands, sighing from embarrassment as I recalled how all of the ponies had stared at me. At us - at Fluttershy giving me a ride. Just the amount of double-takes I saw - I had no doubt that this event would color the perception of me for a long time to come. Maybe that was what the doctor and nurses were all tense about, thinking I'm some weird person who just goes and rides ponies around in my pajamas. I facepalmed heavily, groaning tensely as I tried to exorcise the memories of the the flabbergasted expressions Fluttershy had left in her wake. The voice of the doctor filtering through the opening of the door provided a welcome distraction from my thoughts. Sitting back up, I quietly got out of bed and tip-toed over to the entrance, hanging by the side so that I could hear what he was talking about.
"Well, he had some scratches to be sure," the stern voice of the doctor went on, "but I can't see exactly how he'd collapse unless he was just that tired."
"A-are you sure, doctor?" the voice of Fluttershy responded. "He looked absolutely terrible! His eyes had all glazed over - oh, Griselda must have been so shocked to see him like that!"
"Griselda?" the doctor questioned. "Not a pony I am familiar with - is she new to Ponyville?"
"Oh no, Griselda isn't a pony, doctor. She's a bear - a grizzly bear, actually! She's just the sweetest, kindest-"
"'Griselda'... I see, how adorable," the doctor chuckled. "Was this bear present when he had his, ah, 'episode'?"
"Um... well, y-yes. It was so strange, she had just arrived and he started acting so weird..."
"'Acting weird'. Miss Fluttershy - it didn't occur to you that he might just be terrified of grizzly bears?"
"T-terrified?" Fluttershy gasped.
"Yes, you see - his reaction as you described it could very well have been out of fear rather than from any sort of injury."
"Th-that couldn't be! Why would he ask Griselda for a date if he was terrified of bears?"
"A date-?" the doctor started before promptly stopping himself and sighing. "Why don't you explain this from the beginning, miss Fluttershy."
I groaned loudly. This was going to go so far south before it started to get anywhere close to better. Staggering back to my bed, I sat down heavily, steepling my hands over my knees. I wished I could go to sleep right then - go to sleep and wake up back home, but my mind was still racing and even though I was tired I couldn't calm down. Sighing to myself, I rang the bell. If I was going to get through this, I needed a freaking drink.
