One in a Trillion: Chronicles of the Traveler, Volume One

Chapter One: Revelare

Location unknown
D3-08
2303.11.??

In twenty-six years I’d never needed sleep. Sure, I’d experienced it before, unconsciousness hadn’t been an impossibility for me, but all the same it never was a necessity.

I’d also never dreamt before. That said, laying on my back in a sterile smelling room with gently humming electrical equipment around me, I desperately hoped that night in the snow was just a dream.

There was an unpleasant feeling in my left leg, just below the hip, on my thigh. It felt like someone had clamped down on it with something. The fact I could feel that at all told me it hadn’t been a dream. Looking down at my leg only confirmed it, as an equine form lay its head there, atop its arms- no, not arms. Hooves. Those were hooves…

Could I just leave? Surely the – horse? Was it a horse? – would stop me. It had a uniform on, something darkly colored, I couldn’t quite tell in the near complete darkness. Trying to move would wake it, and considering I, too, was now a… horse… there was no way I’d manage to get far. Had to play along.

Speech was never something I had to do manually in the Service, nor anytime often outside of it. Most folk had an uplink module, so communication was just a glance away. Now, however, I was certain this individual wasn’t equipped with any such technology, and neither was I, anymore. A chill washed over me as I wondered if perhaps I’d been abducted, placed in a shell of a body or some other nonsense. That curiosity, along with wondering how sentient horses came to be, along with the numerous other maddening questions, made my sluggish mind feel cramped as I struggled to focus.

Right, had to focus on the here and now. Speech. Vocal communication. I had vocal chords, right? Did horses have those?

“Guh-“ not quite. Try harder. “G-gello? Hello?!” I fairly croaked. My voice sounded odd. Deep, gravely as if I’d nearly drowned recently. I struggled to recall what I’d sounded like in the first place. If you never needed to speak, why would you?

The unlit room and the individual using my thigh as a pillow gave no reply. I decided for more direct action. Bucking my hips gently, I managed to shake the hooved beast from its resting place, which landed it firmly upon the floor. Oops. Well, at least they’d be awake now, right?

“Aah!” Came the voice of the same girl that’d saved me that night. Mare? Pronouns would be important here, surely. She half managed to catch herself in the fall, tangling one of her hooves in the sheets over my bed, pulling them off me and onto the floor with her.

After a small moment she got back to her feet – no, hooves – and looked at me. I could just barely make out her features in the dark. Her mane was a mess, spread half over her face in an amber waterfall of hair. “Y-you’re awake? You’re awake! Oh, thank Celestia you’re awake!” She exclaimed as she adjusted her mane, before suddenly pouncing upon me and wrapping her forehooves around my neck. I immediately suspected strangulation and would’ve reacted were it not for my inability to control this alien body, and also the fact she seemed quite overjoyed to see me conscious.

“What’re you…” I grunted. I hoped I would be able to communicate with these people. They seemed to speak an old form of English, sounding almost American in its delivery.

“Oh! Oh, sorry, you’re probably real sore and all and I jus’ went and hugged you like that. Sorry!” She blabbered, removing herself from me. “I better go get the nurse. I’ll be right ba-“

At that moment, a door opened in one of the dark corners of the room and the lights came on, blinding me. “Is everypony alright in here?” came a voice from the same direction the sound of the opening door came from. It sounded young and feminine. I couldn’t quite bare to open my eyes again after the shock of all the lights being turned on, and so opted to just lie there instead, eyes shut.

“Oh, yes ma’am. Sorry ‘bout that, just got spooked when she woke up!” the mare I’d woken up said in her odd accent. The other mare had less of an accent, but it was still there.

“She’s awake? Oh, that’s wonderful news!” I heard movement, and the sound of what I supposed was hooves on tile as the nurse approached. “My name is Redheart – ah, Nurse Redheart – I ’ve been watching over you for the past three days miss. Can you hear me all right?” She said once she’d gotten closer. I still hadn’t opened my eyes again.

“Mmf…” Came an affirmative noise from my throat. “Lights.” I said more clearly.

“O-oh! Miss Butterscotch, could you-“

“Right, sure. Got it.”

“Thank you.” There was a click, and I opened my eyes to a still lit room, although not nearly so harshly. “Sorry about that, I heard the commotion and just rushed right in. Still kind of new here, sorry!” The nurse prattled. Looking at her, she had a red mane done up in a bun, with a lightly colored coat of fur. She wore, oddly enough, a nurse uniform.

“Where am I?” I asked. “Where’s the Hauberk? The Revenant? Dignity Alpha and Bravo?”

“I’m sorry?” the nurse replied in a confused tone. “You’re in Ponyville General Hospital, ma’am. You’d nearly drowned, then nearly died of hypothermia. What in Equestria were you doing out there? And without any clothes on…” she looked a little flustered.

No clothes? I hadn’t needed clothes before, although I guess I was an exception then. “I… I can’t… I’m not sure.” What was I doing out there? How had I got here? “Wait. Pony…ville? As in… town of ponies?” So, they were ponies. Not horses.

“Well, yes. I know it’s not the most imaginative name, but it’s the one we’ve got and it’s what we’ll have to stick to.” The two mares gave a glance at one another. “Miss, I’m going to do some quick checks to make sure you’re healthy, then I need some information from you. It seems we have absolutely no record of who you are.”

“Alright then.” Couldn’t exactly fight them off, could I? I relented and let the nurse do her tests, which largely involved prodding me with various instruments, asking me to open my mouth wide and make noises. Then she took an instrument and placed it atop my head, and I felt something quite odd. “What’s that?” I asked her.

“Oh, it’s an aetherometer. It checks for magical imbalances in unicorns.” The nurse replied.

Unicorns? Aetherometer? Magic? “What?” I blurted, then corrected myself. “Sorry, right. Aetherometer, I see. Okay. It measures Aetherialogical fluctuations, or variances in the ley-lines?”

The nurse and the other mare – Butterscotch, I’d gathered – both stared at me. “Well I suppose so,” the nurse replied, “I don’t know the specifics, exactly. I just know how to use it and what it is and isn’t supposed to tell me.” Made sense.

So, they understood magic. Or Aetherialogical science to a degree, at least. “Right. Okay…” I paused, waiting for her to remove the peculiar instrument from atop my head. It looked like a spiral of wires with a single wire feeding from the top to somewhere outside my view. “You’re ponies, then?” I asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.

“Yes, ma’am we are.” She then looked to Butterscotch, who matched the concerned look on the nurse’s face. “Do you think…?” The nurse half asked, then turned back to me. “Miss, what is your name?”

Name? A name… I’d never had a name before. Not formally. Usually I was referred to as Number Eight, or just Eight. Names were for… people. I wasn’t a person. Not really. Somehow, I got the impression trying to explain this to the pony folk would cause more problems than it solved, so a substitute would be due for the time being. “I’m…” A name for myself? But who even was I? I’d been called Eight for so long… Wait. There was something else. “Siniy.” It was a callsign I’d had in the Service, years ago. It would have to do, for now.

“Uhm… Shiny? I’m sorry, can you spell that?” The nurse asked.

“Sounds Ponussian, Nurse Redheart. She might be a refugee. From Stalliongrad…” Butterscotch said, sounding ominous in her tone of voice. A refugee? From what, I wondered?

“I think in your tongue it would be Blue. My name is Blue. Blue…” I glanced out the window to my side, seeing the faint glow of a moon. “Moon.”

The nurse had a clipboard in her hooves now and, resting on her haunches, she reached into a pocket on her scrubs with her mouth and grabbed a pen. She then began writing on the clipboard with said pen in her mouth. Fascinating. “Blue Moon,” she said around the pen, before looking up at me. “So, is that correct? You’re a refugee from the Changeling crisis?” She asked.

I was getting tired of being confused. “I’m… not sure, ma’am. Can you tell me, are there any JCS outposts nearby?” It was a long shot to be sure, but if I could get in contact with a JCS agent, I could just give them my ID code and they’d take me in. Technically, Amethyst Group was under mutiny right now, so I could end up incarcerated, but I’d escaped from worse things than prison before.

“J-C-S? I’m not sure what that is miss, sorry to say,” Nurse Redheart replied. Okay, so there was absolutely no Human or Kyn presence here. Or if there was, we weren’t being obvious about it. Goodie. “Can you maybe tell me a little bit about yourself? Where you came from and how, exactly, you got into the Everfree Forest during a blizzard?” She asked with an inquisitive look at me.

I paused for a beat. I didn’t know. I had no idea how I’d gotten here. Last I could recall, we were recovering Dignity Alpha from Externus, when… something attacked. “I think I was attacked, ma’am. I’m not supposed to be here…” I’d been guiding my cruiser, the Revenant, through the upper atmosphere of that obscure world, and then… What had hit me? It’d gone right through the outer defenses, the hull, and straight to me, like some kind of rocket. Perhaps this was purgatory? “Am I dead?”

The nurse glanced at Butterscotch again, then back to me. “No ma’am, you’re very much alive.” Okay, that answered a few questions. They had no idea what I was and assumed I was living. Of course, I probably was living, now that I had lungs, and a pulse, and whatever else a living thing might have. They didn’t know about the J.C.S. or the mutiny – although I doubted anyone outside the upper echelon of the J.C.S. knew about the mutiny. There was no recognizable presence of the Milkdromeda Empire here, at all. And they were talking ponies with colorful fur and expressive faces.

Stalliongrad, Butterscotch had said… That sounded like Stalingrad, Russia. Perhaps… “Yes, okay. I think that’s right, Stalliongrad. I’m unsure how I got here, I’ve traveled for quite some time…” Technically not a lie, I’d been on the move before the mutiny and the recovery operation. “I’m the only one left. The others… I’m not sure where they are now. Someplace better I hope.” Also true, I’d outlived my unit. The circumstances were not evasion of hostile forces or famine or whatever else might warrant a refugee status, but still, fair enough.

“You’ve been on the move for quite some time then, haven’t you Miss Blue?” Nurse Redheart said past the pen in her mouth. Butterscotch looked on with some worry.

“Nurse, I’m not familiar with this land at all. I couldn’t tell you if I’ve traveled ten miles or a thousand, all I know is I’m lost.” And another important topic… “As for t-the lack of clothes… I didn’t have any.” I said, feigning an embarrassed look down at the floor. “Lost everything,” I mumbled.

The two of them seemed sufficiently convinced. “Well, Miss Blue Moon, you’re in good hooves now. Butterscotch here has been by your side for almost the entire time you’ve been with us,” Nurse Redheart explained.

“I had to go in to work today – er – yesterday, but I took off early to come back. Ain’t about to leave your side ‘til you’re okay.” Butterscotch was the same mare that’d resuscitated me. She’d also opted to stay by my side as I recovered. And here she was looking at me like I was something important. I suddenly felt hot, and decided to look anywhere but at her or the nurse.

“I, ah…” I stammered. “Thank you… Butterscotch. I’m not sure how I’ll repay you-“

“Ain’t happening,” Butterscotch interrupted me. “You don’t owe me a thing. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Blue. You’re safe now, though. I promise.” Her voice sounded like it could soothe a rampaging sea. Like the gentle tolling of bells through crisp air. I wasn’t sure why her voice fascinated me so, but I wanted to hear more.

“So, I’m okay then? Not dead, not crippled, injured, mad?” I asked, looking to either of them.

“I can’t see any sort of health concerns beyond some bruising around your hind quarters,” the nurse told me warily. “Don’t suppose you could tell us how that happened, dear?” She’d adopted a gentler tone.

Bruises around my hind quarters? “I… can’t remember. So much is just gone…” I thought about how I’d seen so much collapse so fast, how quickly it all came apart at the seams, and how we desperately tried to pull it all back together. Where were they now, I wondered?

I noticed I was shaking. My body seemed to be convulsing involuntarily, and I felt as though I’d lost my balance. “Oh… Oh dear,” Nurse Redheart checked a machine outside my field of view – which was currently occupied by my knees as I’d managed to fold myself into as much of a ball as I could. What was happening? “Okay, maybe let’s stay away from that topic for now,” she said, adopting that same motherly tone again. It was calming. “You’ve come very far, Miss Blue. You’ll be okay now, don’t you worry. Everything will be all right.” She raised my chin with her hoof, and I caught a glimpse of Butterscotch’s very distraught face. I didn’t like how sad she looked. The nurse was looking very intently at my eyes, one then the other. She jotted something down on her clipboard then placed her hooves on mine. “Blue, can you tell me how old you are? What your birthday is?”

Birthday? I didn’t have a birthday. I was never born! “That’s-“ I stopped myself, and looked at her. “I’m sorry. I just… I honestly can’t…” I inhaled slowly, and started again. “Twenty-six.” I finally got out. “I’m twenty-six years old, ma’am.” I’d been made by Amethyst Group twenty-six years ago, so that’d suffice. “I’ll be twenty-seven in two months… I think.”

“That’d mean you were born in January of nine-seventy-one?” She asked.

Nine-seventy-one? Was that a year? “We must use different calendars… I was b-born in January, yes. But I’m not familiar with the year…” That’d put me more than thirteen hundred years in the past if they adhered to the same calendar scheme as us. But back then we hadn’t even figured the scientific method out yet, or which religion was the least violent… God have mercy, where was I?

She wrote something down on her clipboard – my estimated date of birth or some such, I guessed. I lay back in my bed with a slow sigh.

“It’s still fairly early in the morning, you two,” Nurse Redheart explained. “I’m very glad you’re finally awake, Miss Blue, but I’m afraid there’s not much more I can do at the moment. I’ve scheduled an appointment with our psychiatrist, doctor Clarify. He’s very kind, he’ll be able to help us understand… everything that’s going on.”

A psychiatrist. They were putting me in a padded cell, for sure. “Okay, I’ll just… stay here I guess?” I shrugged shakily as I looked at her.

She nodded her head, stating matter-of-factly, “You’ll be nice and rested for doctor Clarify. I’ll take you to him at eight, just before I end my shift.”

And with one more look to Butterscotch, Nurse Redheart left the room, leaving me with the mare that’d saved my life then used me as a pillow.

“So, you’re… interesting,” she said to me with a smile after a few moments of silence. I guessed she wasn’t one for subtlety.

“I don’t belong here,” I half-mumbled. “This isn’t right… I can’t remember how I got here, I don’t know why. I don’t like not knowing things.” I watched her as she pulled a squat little chair up to the side of my bed and sat in it, before looking at me with an expression somewhere between amusement and confusion.

She took one of the pillows I wasn’t using from the bed and set it behind her head, against the wall. “Guess we’ll find out in the morning, huh?”

…

Ponyville General Hospital
D3-08 “Blue Moon”
997.05.?? ? 8:00 AM

True to her word, Nurse Redheart had arrived to collect me just before eight. She quickly discovered I had absolutely no capability to walk on hooves, so she procured a wheelchair for me, citing the cause of my inability to walk as “exhaustion from over-exertion.” An easier explanation than “I have no idea how to use hooves.”

She wheeled me to another wing of the hospital, however on the same floor. Butterscotch left for breakfast. The office area we entered had an entrance so unassuming I’d not even realized it was our destination before Redheart stopped us at the door. It was painted the same color as all the other doors and had the same type of placard as all the others. This placard, however, read “Psychology Ward.”

After opening the door, she wheeled me in, deftly managing to hold the door open with one forehoof as she pushed me through the threshold with her muzzle, before swapping her forehoof for her rear hoof, keeping the doorway open until both of us were through. The interior was decorated in warm, gentle colors, and the décor was decidedly ordinary. Wooden chairs with thin cloth cushions, wooden end tables at two adjacent corners of the room, both with small collections of books and magazines stacked atop them. In the opposite wall from the side we’d entered from was another door, this one wood panel. It was unlabeled.

“Doctor Clarity will be with you shortly,” the nurse said. She certainly looked tired.

“Thank you, nurse. Really. I’m… not used to being treated so kindly.” I gave her as much of a gracious look as I thought I could manage. “I suppose you’re ready to go home? It’s been a busy night.”

She made a noise I couldn’t quite recognize and smiled at me. “I’m exhausted, yeah. That’s okay though! I’m just really glad to see you up-and-at-‘em again!” She placed my hooves in hers. “I don’t know what all you’ve been through, Miss Blue, but I promise you’re in good hooves, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, so much,” I replied, feeling… odd. With one last look at me, Redheart left the room, and I was alone. It was a strangely surreal feeling, being both physically and mentally alone. I’d never been disconnected from communicating with others before, and though I’d experienced being on my own physically, the lack of anyone to talk to left me feeling anxious. The room offered little to occupy my mind, and the books and magazines were out of my reach. Only…

Could it work? They’d mentioned magic, and though they hadn’t used it themselves I supposed there wasn’t any reason I couldn’t. I’d been able to before. Slowly, I focused inward, closing my eyes as I searched for that gentle flow of…

The door opened. Not the one we’d entered through, but the other one, made of wood. I started slightly, but kept my wits as I looked over to the commotion. In the doorway stood what I instantly recognized as a male, a stallion. His glasses hung loosely from chains that were tucked beneath the collar of his shirt. His eyes were a distant blue, and he looked tired but alert. His coat was similar to mine, perhaps a single shade of blue lighter. It never occurred to me what a unicorn might look like, but here one was. His horn was the same color as his coat, although the fur stopped at the base of it. Then my eyes went crossed again as he approached, and I had to shake my head to regain my composure.

“Hello, Miss Blue Moon, is it?” Doctor Clarity – I presumed – asked. “I’m here to get a grasp on what all has happened to you.” Oddly similar to what Redheart had said. “My name’s Doctor Clarity,” he continued, confirming my suspicions. “Let’s get this all figured out,” he said as his horn began to glow a cloudy blue and I began to move. He was pushing my wheelchair with kinetic magic, clearly.

“I’m hoping you can figure it out, I haven’t the foggiest myself,” I said to him as he wheeled me along. The office area we entered was simple enough, although obviously personalized to an extent. I saw a few picture frames of what I guessed were his family, some of a dog, a collection of certificates, all mounted to the walls or set upon shelves. The majority of the bookshelves were full up with an assortment of literature. Glimpsing a few of the titles provided little insight, I had no idea what they said. He stopped me in front of his desk, before walking around it to take a seat in the large chair on the other side. With his cloudy blue magic, he plucked a thin folder from nowhere in a flash and placed it on the desk. Inside was the single sheet on which Redheart had written what little she’d gathered about me the night prior, as well as another sheet that appeared to be nearly blank.

After a short glance at the two papers he looked up at me. “Aged twenty-six and ten months, from Stalliongrad, and suffering from possible psychological and emotional traumas due to expedited evacuation from home. Did I leave anything out?” He asked. His tone seemed friendly, but something told me to keep him at a safe distance.

“Sounds like there’s a lot missing, but I’m not sure what all I can tell you,” I said as I continued to watch his eyes. I felt strange, as I sat there looking at him. I’d noticed he hadn’t raised his glasses to read the paper, and his horn hadn’t stopped glowing either.

“How about starting with who you are, Miss Blue?” He asked calmly.

“Delta three, agent zero-eight, veteran, retired. Designation Emile project, mark eight. Synthetic with fully-integrated artificial-“ I bit down on my tongue to stop talking, glaring daggers at him.

He simply looked back at me with his mouth barely agape. I wasn’t going to let him take anymore away from me. I was well versed in illusion magic, but this was beyond that. This was something almost cruel. Almost. His horn stopped glowing. “I see. Well, you’re not a changeling, that much I’ve gathered.” He gently raised his glasses to his face, using his hooves instead of his magic. I’d have pounced him, hooves or no, if he’d lit his horn again. “Miss, who – or what – are you?”

I sighed. He’d pulled just enough out of me to spoil the disguise. “I’m just an old mercenary.” I watched him, knowing I’d have to give more. “I’m from… somewhere else. Not here. Don’t ask me how I got here because I don’t know, and don’t you dare try another spell on me.” I focused inwardly, carefully as I could such that he wouldn’t notice. I wasn’t sure if he could detect my use of magic. “I can tell you I don’t plan on hurting anyone here. I’m not going to cause any problems if I don’t have to, I just need to get home.” Almost there… Got him.

His eyes shot wide as I cast the spell and flooded his mind with the information he sought. Through his mind’s eye he saw conflict and turmoil and victory and failure. He saw vast armies slain and vast bounties claimed, empires consumed and betrayed. Then, in an instant, it was over. He lay slack in his chair for a moment, then shook himself. I stared at him patiently.

“I see… a traveler, of sorts. There’s no precedent for this,” he said as he grinned faintly. I continued to watch him silently. “You’re something of an enigma. I honestly can’t make heads nor tails of what I just saw.” He wrote something down on the near empty sheet of paper using his magic, and I slammed my hooves down on the table clumsily.

“Anything you put on that paper informs anyone of who I am…” I growled, not bothering to finish the threat.

He nodded in agreement, turning the paper so I could see it. It was written in a script I couldn’t decipher. At my glare he read aloud, “Blue Moon, mare, age twenty-six. Possible positive for post-traumatic stress disorder.” I continued to glare at him until he said, “I swear on my children, that’s what it says. You’re clearly an individual not to be messed with, however I think I can help you, if you’re willing.” I didn’t offer a reply, so he continued, “Miss Blue, you’re not in danger here. I swear it, you’re safe. I’m here to help ponies. That spell I cast on you was a necessity, please understand. The recent crisis, and all the refugees, surely you understand?” He pleaded. I could certainly understand the need for the extra security measures, but it made trust a challenge. I relented and sat back in my chair. He visibly relaxed. “Just so we’re clear, that’s not a diagnosis I’ve put on your file. It’s just an… assertion. After what you’ve shown me, I’m near certain you’ve endured more than any one mare should.”

“I’m not a mare. I’m not a… a pony. I shouldn’t be here!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t stand how I was acting, so impulsive. I couldn’t stand how sure he was. I couldn’t stand how my body wasn’t right, how my mind felt so silent and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Miss, if you could just let us help you,” he repeated. I didn’t want their help. I wanted… What? What did I want? I’d never wanted for anything before, but now I had nothing at all. If I was trapped here, if I had no way to reach home…

“Please… I shouldn’t be here.” I repeated.

“Let’s continue these meetings. I think we should focus on making sure you’re healthy, before we go about figuring out any of this other stuff.” He sounded like he was sentencing me. There was no way I was trapped here, was there? Surely, I could just contact the Service and they’d… What? Take me in, just because I told them to? I resembled nothing of my former self, I had no features they’d recognize, or if they did they’d think I was just some pony, even if I recited my ID code to them. I was trapped. “I know you’ve heard this a lot, but that’s because it’s the honest truth. You’re in good hooves. We want to help, that’s why we’re here.”

“Okay. Okay, help me then. Tell me how to… Live.”

…

Ponyville General Hospital
D3-08 “Blue Moon”
997.05.?? ? 8:45 AM

The visit with Doctor Clarity revealed much, to both of us. I was in good hooves, as I’d been reassured so many times. The ponies didn’t have anything to fear from me, mostly due to my inability to do anything beyond vague gestures and basic illusion magic.

Doctor Clarity had explained it would be necessary to create an alias for me if I wanted to go about life without being accosted by media, lookie-loos, and generally curious ponies. He’d decided Blue Moon the mare from Stalliongrad was a good enough alias, and suggested a few items to add to my back story like family, hobbies, and the like.

Once he’d finished a little more paperwork, the doctor wheeled me out and back to my room, where Butterscotch sat waiting with what I guessed was breakfast.

“Hungry, Blue?” The mare asked me. She was no longer wearing her uniform, opting instead for a pair of blue jeans and a simple burgundy shirt. A plain coat was hanging on a chair nearby. Her mane was down as well, giving her an entirely different appearance than how she’d looked an hour prior.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. I’d never eaten food before.

Butterscotch looked at me quizzically and shook her head. “Did the doctor confuse you that much?” She asked, looking over my shoulder at Doctor Clarity.

“I believe some food would do her good. Are you her friend, miss?” He asked Butterscotch after wheeling me to the table where an assortment of things had been laid out. I couldn’t quite identify the food choices, though I’d never had any interest in food to begin with.

“Lilac Skyes and I found her a few days ago out in that blizzard,” Butterscotch replied, before turning to me. “Pancakes?” She asked.

“What are pancakes?” I asked in return. She nodded her head towards the table. On one plate were several beige colored discs made of something I couldn’t identify. Pancakes I guessed, unless she meant the plate, or the glassware full of orange fluid, or the table itself.

“Blin, they’re called, in your language,” she said as she took a seat opposite me.

“You two take care. A nurse will be in after a while to discuss your departure, Miss Blue,” Doctor Clarity said before leaving.

I stared at the pancakes before me. “Blin.”

“Ayep, blin,” she replied. “Syrup?”

I stared blankly. This would be a long day.

Author's Note

For the record: Blue Moon has a European accent, and is multi-lingual. I am not European, nor am I multi-lingual, so please be patient as I try to write a character that is.
Furthermore, in this particular Equestria the new year is on July first. So November is the fifth month on the calendar. This is because of the Summer Sun Celebration which is on the Summer Solstice, which is typically June twentieth, twenty-first or twenty-second.