I'm in the airport. Sitting at the gate now. I hit the send button on my text message before pocketing my phone. Given the time difference, my parents would probably see it in a couple of hours when they woke up. My mouth stretched open in a yawn. Ugh. Why did the flight have to be so early in the morning? The sounds of other commuters filled the air, occasionally interrupted by the station wide broadcast system.
I was sitting in the waiting area of my departure gate in Heathrow airport, waiting for my return flight home. Both of my carry-on bags rested between my legs; a suitcase with a little Union Jack luggage tag, and my backpack. I smirked, giving the tag a flick and making it flop to the other side of the handle. Six weeks in London studying abroad. I wish i could have had some more time here. How often do I get to travel to England anyway? Maybe I should have joined the few other classmates who were heading to France rather than going home right away. It was only mid-summer after all.
I sighed, but that would cost more money, and I had already spent plenty living here. No, I had to go back, too late to change my ticket anyway.
I looked back at the electric display behind the desk where the attendant's call everyone for boarding. Departure time: 8:10 am, on time. An hour left then. This was good. I didn't need a repeat of the horror show coming here was. Delayed six hours, with my suitcase lost in limbo for two days afterwards, no thank you. Looking around, I noticed that most of the other seats in the area were filled with other people. People by themselves or clustered with others who I assumed to be friends or family. I did some mental math. I looked like it was going to be a full flight.
Best use the restroom now then. I leaned down, scoping my backpack up and shifting it on before standing up. I shuffled my way out of the crowded benches, offering the occasional "Pardon me." or "'Scuse me." Before long, I was walking down the terminal hall, toward where I kind of remembered a bathroom to be. I should enjoy the walk, I would be doing much more of it for a while.
A rumbling sound came from above me. It was different than the usual rumbling of plane engines. I frowned looking, up. I was in a section with a glass roof. Through it, I saw some clouds, with bits of dawn sky showing in thin patches. Odd, I didn't see any thunderstorms in the forecast.
The last thing I saw before I was completely blinded, was a bolt of white light spearing down.
I couldn't describe what happened next. There was light. There was no sound. I felt my body felt like I was being pushed together and pulled apart simultaneously. Sensations of hot and cold washed over me, but there was no pain. By the time these thoughts passed, it was over, and I was still standing.
I blinked. I drew in a breath. Was that lightning? I blinked again. I thought lightning was suppose to hurt. I blinked again. Did the skylight look different?
A female voice chimed in front of me "A very impressive Miss Jubilee, but that is not the purpose of this test." I looked down. I was in what looked to be an auditorium. Rows of orange seats were flanked by two sets of stairs. At the top stood four... horses?
My brain roughly shifted gears. No, that didn't make sense. Horses don't look like that. These ones were smaller and weirdly shaped. they were in colors that I had never seen a horse in before. One had it's hair tied into a bun. Another had a beard and mustache. Dear God, their eyes were huge. From their elevated position, I couldn't tell how tall they were.
Hair-bun held a clip board to it's face. The same female voice from before came out of it's mouth. "You were suppose to change the flower's color from red to blue." My mouth fell open. That thing had just spoken English. "Please transform the flower pot back, and we will try again."
Flower pot? What the hell was she talking about? What was happening?
Another voice popped up beside me. "I... I didn't do that." The voice was also female, but higher pitched.
I twisted my neck. There was no one next to me; not until I looked down. Another... pony, I guessed. This one was tiny. The top of her head looked like it would reach just below my knee. Her fur a a shiny, silvery pink. which matched her platinum mane. Her eyes were startlingly blue, She was crouched, as though trying to back away,
She froze, around three feet away from me, when I looked at her. Her breathing hitched, her pupils shrunk. Not just that, here entire iris shrunk too. The seconds that we stared at each other seemed to last far longer than that. She must only be a kid. On her head sat a short, horn. A unicorn kid.
"This isn't your spell?" Hair-bun asked. I didn't look at her. I was distracted as the child's body began to shake. She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly so that her eyes never left mine. I finally got it. She was terrified, of me.
"Then... Oh Celestia. Guards!" Hair-bun's voice, reverberating in the small auditorium. "There's an unknown creature in the test room! Guards!"
From behind the kid, a door opened revealing more adult ponies. These two were the largest I've seen so far. Their coats were a pure white, which would have made them stand out already if they weren't also wearing gold armor. A part of my mine had the time to notice that the armor's design resembled that of a roman soldier even with blue plumes on top. Another part wondered if the armor was real gold, and how impractical it would be if it was. The rest was panicly trying to think of a way to explain what was going on; that I was lost and confused, and could you please help me figure out what was happening.
The guards looked at the kid, and then at me. The look they gave me showed no sign of friendliness. They quickly moved into the room.
Crap, I spun away from them, nearly tripping, as my legs collided with my forgotten luggage. I stumbled, casting a fleeting glance back before I continued running. I didn't want to leave it, but it would slow me down now.
Luckily, there was another door directly across the from from the one that the guards entered. I reached it, gripping the handle and pulling it open. An immediate glance showed me that there were no guards on this side and that it lead to a hall with multiple branching paths. I stepped through the door.
Only to be pulled back as something grabbed hold of my backpack.
Thinking quickly, I twisted my arms so that the straps fell easily away. I heard a surprised grunt, along with the clatter of armor as my would-be captor fell away from me.
A fleeting feeling of triumph surged through me, but it couldn't slow down. I raced down the hall, picking the second one on the left. I had to get out of here, wherever 'here' was. Once I was out, maybe I could bide my time and work something out. But until then, I had to keep moving.
I'm sure that I'll find the exit soon, after all how big can this place be?
Left. Down some stairs. Left. Right. Down more stairs. Left. Right. Right. Where was the exit in this place? I had been running for quite awhile. My lungs were burning, and my heart was pounding in my ears. I had lost all track of which direction was which by this point. For all I knew, i could have accidentally doubled back and was heading for that auditorium again. I was lost, tired, and considered hostile in a foreign land. All and all, a terrible situation to be in.
Maybe I should stop and try to reason with them.
“Don’t let it get away!” Rose a cry from behind.
I gritted my teeth. I guess that’s off the table. I urged my legs to move a bit faster.
The hallway I was in ended in a left turn. I reached out, gripping the inner column and swinging my body in a tight arc. My shoulder ached, but I managed to keep my momentum. I quickly scanned my new route.
The hallway was long, lined with pictures, and decorative furniture. A lone pony in what looked like maid attire, stood nearly twenty feet away. A feather duster clutched in its mouth. No hallways split from this one. The only exit was a large double door at the far end, about 100 feet or so.
The maid was already facing me when I rounded the corner; probably drawn by the commotion of myself and my pursuers. It’s eyes went wide, and the feather duster fell from its mouth as I charged ahead. I was nearly on top of it when it snapped out of its daze and it pressed itself against the wall; cowering away from me. I kept running. I was glad that these creatures were scared of me, choosing to duck or hide rather than try to stop me. It’s kept me from getting cornered so far.
Then again, fear of me is what started this mess.
“It’s heading for the main hall!” Came the voice from behind. Louder this time. I was losing ground, but new hope surged within me. If they knew I could understand them, they wouldn’t have revealed that I was on the right track. A main hall meant a main door, a main exit I could. I pushed harder, and before I knew it, the cool door handle was in my grasp.
I shoved the door open, giving silent thanks that it wasn’t a pull. Without turning around, I pushed it shut creating a loud boom that reverberated in this new space. My gaze swept over the room. I was on the second level of what looked to be a grand hall. To my left was a rather large entryway, to my right, a wide stairway leading down. I could see the top of more arched entryways at the bottom of the stairs. Some sunlight was streaming in from that side, casting a warm glow that filled the room. I grinned moving towards the stairs. I had made it. A few steps and I’d be in the open. Afterwards, I could hide and figure out what to do then.
The sound of cracking wood came from behind me. Against my better judgment, I turned.
Three of the pony soldiers stood in the doorway I had just come through. Both doors were swinging wide. In front, head bowed, stood one of the guards. Behind him two more were moving to flank into the chamber. Splinters littered the space between them and me. I locked eyes with one of them.
They had rammed the door.
Terror like nothing I felt before seized me. I had to get away. I turned back, right into another pony guard coming up the stairs.
His surprised expression was all I saw before I ran full-force into him, pushing us both up and over the first few steps. Everything started spinning as we tumbled downwards. Pain, limbs, glints of gold, sounds of crashing metal and strained grunts filled my world. My teeth clacked violently when my jaw was struck by a flailing hoof. I felt my foot come into contact with something and I heard a pained grunt. After a few seconds of traded blows and flailing limbs, I came down hard on my side, falling away from the guard.
Shakely, I shifted to my hands and knees. My head was ringing, and the room felt like it was still spinning. Shifting my hand wider I nearly lost balance again as my fingers dropped through the floor, only to whack into a solid surface a beat later. Looking, I saw that the ground hadn’t disappeared, I was on what looked to be a landing with my hand resting on the next set of steps down. The sunlight from this angle shone even brighter. Promising warmth and safety.
The rustling of metal on metal brought me back. I swung my head around, the soldier I had a tumble with had regained his footing. He had landed much closer to the stairs leading up, and he looked mad. He glared at me, pawing the ground. He wasn’t doing what I think he’s doing is he?
With a snort, he lunged at me. That crazy horse was bull rushing me! I turned towards him, trying to get both feet under me, but he closed the distance much faster than I thought possible.
His head hit me in the dead center of my ribcage. I gasped, the air suddenly robbed from my lungs. The floor gave way to air as he shoved me over the threshold. I scrambled to grab him, hoping to pull myself back. My hands locked in The gaps of his plate armor, one grabbing the back of his helmet, the other on a gap where I guessed his shoulders would be.
He struggled, wiping his head back and forth in an effort to dislodge me, but I held firm as I started to fall. I felt a grim satisfaction as my weight pulled him down with me, and we began our tumble anew.
We separated after the first blow. I could hear the cacophony of metal clanging as both of us tumbled. Knees, elbows, nothing was spared on my end. After a few more seconds and it was over.
I lay flat on my back, staring at the ornate ceiling above. Everything hurt. I could taste blood. I licked my lips, my lower one had split at some point. My head listed to one side. The arches were in front of me now, their golden sunlight warming my face. It felt nice.There it was, a smile tugged at my lips. I had made it
The sound of rustling and moaning caught my attention. Lifting my head. I could see the guard slowly rising to his feet. Or hoofs in this case. He looked rough, his movements were a lot more shaky than before. He was facing away from me, but he slowly began to turn. Where’d his helmet go?
A stock of gold mane fell over his eye; his gaze was unfocused and wandering. He eventually spotted me, and he continued turning until he was fully facing me. His breathing was heavy. Mine too.
I propped myself up on my elbows. His hoof unsteadily lifted, and came down. I recognized it instantly. I shook my head, silently begging him not to do it.
His brow furrowed, and he paused. Yes. That’s it. Just let me go. He shook his head, as if clearing his mind. When he looked up again, there was no more hesitation in his eyes, only a dreadful resolve. The pit of my stomach fell away.
He began pawing once again. I shuffled back on my elbows, desperate to get away. My arm came into contact with something. It was the soldier’s helmet. Casting a glance back, I saw the pony rear up and charged.
I twisted, picking the helmet up in one hand and swung in a backhand arc, hard.
The helmet hit the pony’s head with a dull ‘crunk.’ The pony stumbled, and fell sliding to a stop beside me. His legs fell still. It’s eyes were closed.
Oh God. I let go of the helmet.
Oh no.
I stopped breathing. Did I just… no…
My heart was pounding in my ears. I felt like throwing up, but my throat was pinched tight. It was self-defense. I didn’t mean to hit him that hard. I just… oh God.
Did I just become a murderer? Did I just kill another sentient being? My stomach did another somersault. Tears were beginning to well in my eyes as I stared at his face.
A flutter of movement caught my eye and I looked down at the pony’s chest. It slowly rose, then fell, then rose again in steady breathing.
I watched his chest cycle again before I let out a shuddering breath. He’s alive, thank God.
“Guard down!”
“Get it!”
Relief was quickly replaced by panic, and the voices of several angry guard ponies reached my ears. I scrambled past the unconscious guard rising to my feet. My knee cried in protest and I stumbled. I tried righting myself, but a shove from behind sent me face down onto the floor. A weight pressed into my back. I struggled to lift myself.
“Restrain it. You, check on the private.”
I pushed against the guard, trying to move his hoof off of the center of my back. I could still slip through.
More and more weight was being added as I continued to squirm and writhe.
“Hold it down.”
More weights presses into my legs, my hips, and my shoulders. My right arm was trapped beneath me, but my left was still free. I grasped at the ground, reaching for the entryway. Suddenly, an invisible force grabbed it, splaying my fingers wide as my entire arm was pressed into the ground.
“Get some rope.”
“No!” I barely recognized my own voice, as I cried. “No! No! No! No! No!” I kept on repeating that word, pouring as much emotion as I could. It couldn’t end like this, not like this.
“Sir. It’s talking.” The same voice from earlier stated. They seemed to pause, my screams filling the air.
“Gag it.”
I kept shouting, even as a rope made my words unintelligible. As I felt the cords beginning to loop around my legs, tears wet my cheeks. Lying there in the sunlight, my face was warm. It reminded me of home.
Author's Note
Hey everybody. Thank you for taking the time to read my chapter. Like I said in the story description, I wanted to post something here before I lost the nerve again.
I promise, more is coming. And now, with this out in the wild, I have a reason to keep working on this story.
Please let me know if there are any editing mistakes I missed, and feedback is always welcome.
Chapter Two: The Interview
This wasn't the first time that I had been in a dungeon. In fact, I think this was the third, or maybe it was the fourth, time. Just recently I had seen dungeons during a tour in the Tower of London. Back then, I was only a visitor, free to come and go as I pleased. This experience was less accommodating.
Given the circumstances, it was quite amusing how the design of dungeons appeared to have made the same cross that I had. Bare stone walls surrounded me on all sides. Their monotony interrupted by a heavy looking wooden door. On the opposite wall where two rectangular depressions in the wall. The corners of these depressions ran inward, creating two long, parallel, vertical slits that each ran about a quarter of the way down the wall, and ended a few inches before the ceiling. The rest of the room was decorated sparingly, as one would expect.
A bed, a stool and what could generously be called a table made up the meager furnishings of the small room. All of which were designed to fit someone much smaller than me. The same seemed to go for the ceiling as well. The roof was about an inch too short for me to stand fully up-right. If I didn't pay attention, my head would bump and scrape painfully against the stony roof.
Interestingly, what the room lacked in height, it made up for in width. This cell was wider and deeper than any other that I had seen or had come to expect from TV. It made sense once I thought about it. If the cell was designed with the idea that a pony would inhabit it, they would need that extra space to accommodate their body length.
I cast a glance around the room. Not that the place looked like it had ever been inhabited to begin with. I bent over the bed. It was the last piece of the furniture that I had yet to examine.
The sheets had been neatly tucked under the mattress in professional, crisp lines. The cloth that made up the bedspread while simple in design, but it lacked the look of something made with the bare minimum in mind.
I reached out, running a hand along the covers. They were soft to the touch. I was briefly reminded of the kinds of linens I'd felt in really good hotel rooms. The both looked and felt clean. Had they been replaced recently?
I furrowed my brow. It didn't make any sense; there was barely any dust covering the furniture. No evidence of neglect. Why would anyone spend this much effort to maintain a place where criminals, the dregs of society would be?
I shook my head. Was I seriously complaining that my cell wasn't dirty enough? I seriously needed to rethink my priorities.
I stood up, only to flinch back as my head hit the roof.
Muttering dark curses under my breath, I rubbed the newly sore spot. I'm sure that I'd remember to duck eventually.
I scrunched my neck and shoulders into something between a hunch and a shrug. I had to force my shoulder blades to bunch up, creating an unnatural curve. Already, I could feel the uncomfortable pressure beginning. It wouldn't be long before it would really start to hurt, but it was pain that I was willing to endure for the moment.
Having exhausted all options for an interior examination, I moved over to the "windows." Maybe I could find out a bit more about these ponies from the outside.
The slits themselves offered a difficult view of the landscape, but what I could see was, for lack of a better term, astounding. I had been expecting a view of some dingy alley, or perhaps I would get lucky with a view of the town proper. What I got was a sweeping vista. A room with a view described the situation pretty well.
Where ever I was, I was high, really high. I could see down into a wide valley, filled with rolling greenery. Grasses, trees and even what looked to be a town in the middle of it all. I was too far away to make out any details on the buildings themselves, but it looked like the place ran on agriculture, judging by the seemingly abundant farmland.
A thought leaped into my brain, compared to humanity, just how advanced were these ponies? I looked at the bed again, If I scaled it up a bit, it wouldn't look out of place in a modern showroom. The same went for the stool and the table. They were a bit minimal in design, but I swear I saw something similar in Ikea.
The guards had been wearing plate mail, though, and they didn't have any weapons like a modern military. Although, maybe they didn't need guns when they had magic.
I shuddered as I remembered how easily they had held me down. How easily I had been manhandled into this prison.
"Aghh. Get a grip." I said. "You haven't lost this yet." I kept my self-admonishment to a mutter in case any guards were listening outside. Maybe it was just paranoia on my part. They already knew I can talk; but I didn't want them to know how anxious this whole thing was making me.
I had to hope that someone would come by to take a look. Hell if this was Earth, every government in the world would be breaking down the door to get a chance to look at sentient life. Maybe I could make a case to let me out then.
Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my phone. The guards hadn't fleeced me before locking me up. I had been lucky. It was even luckier that the phone got through my scuffle with the guard unscathed. Over two hours had passed since I landed in this world. It felt a lot longer.
There was no reception, a fact that didn't change no matter where I held it in the room. I knew it was unlikely; even if there were cell phone towers why would they work with a foreign phone? I felt that I had to try.
I checked the battery; there was still a ninety-two percent charge. I paused, then shut the phone down. It wasn't going to do any good now. Best to save it for later.
I stopped. Without even realizing it I had been pacing the length of the room. This was... I didn't know what this was, but I did not like it. I rubbed my eyes. This whole situation was such a cluster.
I sat down on the bed. Frowning, I did a small bounce. The mattress creaked rhythmically before settling. It felt good, way too good. Seriously, what was this place?
I laid down, crossing my legs and resting my arms across my chest. From this position, I had a clear view of the door. It felt like I was in a kid's bed. It only reached to my shins, leaving my feet to kick freely in the air.
Getting as comfortable as I could, I settled in. As much as I didn't like it, the only thing I could do now was play the waiting game.
I didn't remember falling asleep, but the sound of keys rattling in the door jolted me awake. I quickly swung my body into a seated position. My feet just touched the ground when the door opened.
In strolled a unicorn, he was taller than the guards, and he had a lanky look about him. His coat was a rusty red which made his brilliant mop of yellow hair stand out boldly on his head. His eyes were gray, but there was a shine in them, making them look almost metallic. He wore a pair of half rim bifocals; making him look rather bookish. His horn was glowing and I flinched, the all too fresh memory of the guard's magic crossing my mind.
His eyes met mine, and his step faltered, I saw him mouth the words, "Oh wow." His horn dimmed and I heard somethings clatter outside. The pony's head whipped around to the door. "Sorry! Sorry," he said. As he turned to face the door, I noticed something odd on his.... rump... I think it was called.
It was an image, clear as day. What looked to be a dusting implement resting above a quill. What little I could see of his other side showed that he had the same image on the other cheek too. What was that? A tattoo?
Through the door floated a series of objects all encompassed in the same blue energy that surrounded the stallion's horn. A stool, similar to the one that was already in my cell. A clipboard stuffed with papers, some already with writing scribbled on. A feather and a black bottle, it took me a second to recognize it as a quill and ink. Interesting. Did they not have pens?
Lastly were two stones, no bigger than a kiwi fruit. They looked nearly identical. Both of them had polished, smooth surfaces and were black as coal. What was he going to do with those?
The pony turned back toward me, following the floating objects as they moved into position. He sheepishly grinned at me, "Sorry."
One by one the objects came to rest. The chair sat roughly in the center of the room. The clipboard, the feather, ink, and stones were set on the table. The chair that had already been in my cell begin to glow, and it moved so that the two could be facing each other.
The pony gave the arrangement a look over before, apparently content, turned to me. "Right," he said "Now then, um. Hi. My name is Quartz. I uh, I am here to talk to...you, and to, um, establish communications." The way that he spoke was so stilted that I had to guess that this was something that he was told to say. Or maybe it was just nerves, I knew that I would be pissing myself if I had to talk to an alien.
Quartz glanced at the chairs and then did a double take as if he forgotten that they were there. "Oh. Please have a seat." he said. He quickly took his own advice, sitting in the chair closest to the door. The way that he sat, back-legs dangling over the edge, front-legs planted in between them on the stool top, reminded me of a dog.
I glanced past him, toward the open door of my cell. It wouldn’t take much. I could easily bowl him over in a surprise attack. He didn’t look like he weighed much more than a large dog, and I could probably get past him before he had time to react. I’d be out and free just like that.
I caught sight of a glint of gold, and my heart sank. There was a guard outside. Of course there was; why wouldn’t there be? My tense muscles unwound as I slumped in defeat.
I looked dejectedly at Quartz, he looked just as nervous as when he came in. As much as I didn’t feel like playing a game of twenty questions, it was looking more and more like my best chance of escape. Assuming, these ponies didn’t also feel like playing operation later. I stood up, made sure not to brain myself on the ceiling, and sat in the offered stool.
Well, describing what I did as "sitting" was being generous. It was more of a controlled fall onto my bum. The stool's platform was so low to the ground that my knees were up to my chest. I rested my elbows to get more comfortable. I could feel Quartz's eyes on me the entire time, watching how I moved. I wondered just how alien I looked to him.
There could only have been three to four feet between us. Awfully trusting, especially with an unknown being.
Quartz's horn glowed again, causing the clipboard and quill to levitate off the table and over to him. He made a few notes, quietly scratching out text on the parchment. Normally, I would have found this to be extremely boring. However, it was quite fascinating to watch Quartz finely control the quill with his magic. Before me was actual telekinesis! Actual magic! If the circumstances were different, I would be absolutely ecstatic.
"Now," he said, "Do you have a name?"
I nodded. "Yeah." My voice was raspy and my throat itched, no doubt from all the screaming earlier. I ended up coughing into my sleeve despite my efforts to suppress it. God, that sounded awful.
"Are you okay?" Quartz said.
I nodded, letting out a few more coughs. "Yeah." I said "Yeah. Could I have some water?"
"Sure," he said, "we'll get you some." Quartz looked relieved. He was probably glad the alien wasn't dying on him. His ears, along with the rest of his face perked up. "Right! Your name. I didn't get your name."
"It's Tyler." I said "Tyler Myers."
Quartz's quill scribbled along the clip board. "Your name has two 'Tylers'?"
"Just one." I said "First name, Tyler. Last name, Myers."
Quartz scratched something out with his quill before looking at his board. "That an odd name." he muttered.
"Quartz isn’t exactly common where I’m from either." I said, feeling a bit defensive.
He blinked at me behind his glasses, his face erupting into a blush. "Did I say that out loud?" He asked. I nodded. "Sorry," he said, "I tend to do that when I'm thinking."
He looked genuinely apologetic, especially with those big eyes. It gave him the look of a sad puppy. While I wanted to be angry, I was starting to feel bad.
I waved my hand dismissively "It's fine. Forget it."
Quartz lifted his head. looking at my face. His eyes moved around, studying my features. Once he was content with what he found, he perked up some. "Thank you, and please tell me if I do it again."
Quartz studied his clipboard some more. "Alright. Questions. Questions. Oh!" He lowered the clipboard, "Could you please pick up the gem closest to you?"
I glanced at the black stones still resting on the table. Now that I was closer, I noticed that they weren't black at all, but a very deep violet. I picked one up. It felt cool to the touch.
"Okay. Now, I'm going to ask some small questions to start. What is your name?"
I frowned. Weird, but okay. "Tyler Myers."
Quartz nodded. "What is my name?"
"Quartz."
"What's the color of your eyes?"
"Brown."
"What's the color of your mane?"
Mane? What? Oh, he probably meant hair. "Brown."
“Where were you born?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that, so I decided to keep it broad for now. “The United States of America.”
Quartz paused at that. I met his questioning look with a look of ‘Yeah, what of it?”
Quartz scribbled something on the clipboard. "Okay,” he said tentatively “Now I want you to tell me a lie."
It was my turn to look quizzical. All these questions were pretty mundane, but I was now very curious. "Um...." I glanced around the cell. "The sky is orange."
A clear 'ding' came from my hand. I looked down, the stone flashed three times, then became still.
Oh. Oh! A lie detector! That was kind of cool.
"This is kind of cool." I said.
Quartz smiled. He looked more relaxed than when he first came in. "Yeah? You don't have those?"
"Lie detectors? Yeah, but not like this." I lifted the stone to my eye. "Ours are bulkier, made of metal."
"Really?" Quartz was leaning forward, "The pages on his clipboard flipped rapidly before stopping near the back. "How do they work."
I had his attention. I didn't think it would hurt to play into it, "I don't know all the details, but they take measurements of certain things. Blood pressure, perspiration, heart rate. It writes those measurements down and you determine if the person is lying from that."
Quartz's quill was now flying across the page. He was muttering to himself again but I could only catch bits and pieces.
He stopped for a moment to look up. “Does one crystal measure all that, or are there a lot of specialized crystals used?”
“No... it doesn’t use crystals at all, it runs on electricity.” I said, confused.
He scratched something off the page. “And you mentioned that your detectors make readings, and that a pony is needed to analyze the readings.”
I thought about correcting him and saying a person was needed, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter right now. I nodded.
“Could you please give a verbal answer?” asked Quartz, “The crystal works better if you do.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s right.” I said
He mulled that over. “Why doesn’t your detector just tell you if the pony is being dishonest?”
I shrugged, “Because it can’t. They were built to measure things we thought tied into lying, but it’s not like it reads the person’s mind.”
“Why not just use a magic crystal like the one you’re holding?” He gestured with a foreleg.
“Well one, because we don’t have them, and two, how does this thing work?” I held the stone up to eye level. I closed one eye and peered through it like I was a jeweler searching for imperfections.
Quartz’s frown deepened but he continued. “Well, how do I explain this? So, what you’re holding is a measuring instrument, kind of like the one that you described. Right now it’s synced up to your magic channel. Are you with me so far.”
“Yeah” I said, drawing the word out to two syllables.
“Ding” went the stone.”
I looked down at my hand then back at Quartz. “Okay. No. But continue anyway.”
Quartz looked confused but pressed on. “When you lie, the magical resonance of your body is altered just a bit. The crystal detects the change and it makes a noise. Simple really.”
Simple in theory, sure, but what was all that about magic channels? Was that like bio-energy’s or whatever the hell they were called? Was the Force real this whole time? I should have taken some yoga classes back home.
I looked down at my gem, though I suppose it was now more accurate to call it a crystal. Before, it just seemed like an ordinary stone; now, it felt extraordinary. It was a bit frightening. I stopped rolling it around my palm and gripped it firmly.
“You really don’t have crystals where you’re from?” Said Quartz. He said it with the same amount of incredulity that you’d expect from someone who thought they were about to be the butt of the joke.
“No.” I stated “There are gems that we use for jewelry, but no magic crystals of any kind. No magic anything really.”
Quartz's mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again. Occasionally, his gaze would fixate on the crystal in my hand, waiting for it to prove me wrong. He levitated his clipboard closer, his quill made several return trips to the inkwell as more and more notes were made.
Movement in the doorway caught my attention as a maid pony entered the room. She had a similar uniform to the one I nearly ran over during my marathon through the hallways, but her fur was a different color; aquamarine. Her mane was an even darker shade of blue.
This maid didn't have a horn marking her as one of the ‘normal’ ponies. On her back sat a tray, with a pitcher and two glasses of water. The tray didn't so much as shake when she moved. She placed the tray on the table, using her mouth to grip one of the platter's handles. Seemed a bit unhygienic but I don't know how else she would have done it.
"Thank you." I said, grabbing a glass. I was really thirsty, and the water felt good on my tongue. I had already downed half of it before I remembered something from my study abroad orientation. Something about being careful of drinking the native water.
Well, it was too late for that, so I drank the rest of it.
I reached to refill my drink but the maid was one step ahead of me. She griped the handle of the jug between her teeth. Unsure of what else to do, I just held my glass out where I thought it would make things easier. She didn't at all seem to mind the fact that she was pouring a drink for an alien. Whoever she was, she had excellent work ethic.
"Thank you." I said again once she was done. She did what I could only call the pony version of a curtsy.
"Would the gentlecolts like anything else?" She asked as she rose.
"Um. Yes actually, could I have something to eat, please?" I asked. It had been a while since my last meal, and was starting to feel the familiar pangs of hunger.
"Do you have a preference sir?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but I paused. What kind of food did these ponies eat? Was it the same as horses back home? Could I even eat their food without getting sick? I looked down at the filled glass in my hands. On the other hand, we both spoke the same language. My insides didn’t feel like they were imploding from the water yet either so maybe it was safe after all. Let’s see just how far the similarities go, after all I didn’t have much else to lose.
“Some fruit for right now, please.” I said.
She gave a small bow and we both turned to look at Quartz. The stallion was still furiously scribbling notes. Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure if he’d even looked up since the maid came in.
I watched for a little bit, waiting for Quartz to notice. In that time, the only sound in the cell was the scratching of quill on parchment and Quartz murmurs. I thought that the maid would say something, but she seemed comfortable to wait. Probably part of the job. That seemed well and good’n all, but I would like to eat sooner rather than later.
“Mmhhm.” I coughed.
Scritch scritch went the quill.
“Ahem.” I said.
The paper rustled as he turned it over.
Ah, to hell with it. “Quartz.” I said.
“Huh?” Quartz looked up. His head started turning like he’d forgotten where he was. When his gaze settled on the maid and the water, he seemed to shrink a few inches. Maybe it was the ears, they were a lot more expressive than human ones.
“Oh, oh.” He said, much more subdued. The pages on his clipboard flipped back to the front. “What was the question?”
“Would you like some food, sir?” The maid said.
“No, thank you.” Said Quartz.
With that, the maid curtsied once more and left.
“Alright,” Quartz lifted the clipboard to his face, “Time to get serious.” I wasn’t sure if that was directed more at himself or at me. “Let’s see, let’s see. Did that. Did that. Did that. Ah, here we are.” The quill levitated into position. “What species are you?”
What followed next was a series of questions that wouldn’t seem out of place on a census survey; what is your age, what is your sex, what race was I. It felt very bog standard, almost normal except for the fact that I was in a medieval prison cell having a conversation with a horse.
Before long he started asking more complex questions; do I have family, what was life like where I was, did humans keep pets. I thought it was curious that there weren’t any questions about our military or our government.
There were times where it looked like Quartz wanted to ask more about something I’d said, but each time, he’d stop, his eyes flick to my left, towards the table, and he’d move on to the next question.
“You know you can have some water, right.” I said, gesturing toward the pitcher.
“What?” Said Quartz, confused.
“You keep eyeballing it, and there are two glasses.” I said.
“Oh. Ah, no, thank you. I’m not thirsty.” Quartz said, “Anyway...” He moved on. Weird
It was a relief when the maid, I really needed to learn her name so that I could stop calling her that, came back with a platter of food.
It was everything that I had hoped for, a small smorgasbord of fruity delights. There was a little of everything to be had, all of it looking exactly like it did back home. I didn’t know whether to feel weirded out or relieved.
I popped a slice of apple into my mouth after saying thanks. It even passed the taste test. There was some cutlery on the tray as well. I wasted no time using it to dig in. Seemingly satisfied, the maid left.
“Oh!” Exclaimed Quartz, “This is the perfect opportunity! Tyler, what do humans eat?”
“Mph. Humans eat a lot of different things.” I said, swallowing a mouthful of pineapple. “Fruit, obviously, but were omnivores.” I plucked a few grapes off a vine “So we also eat vegetables, grains, nuts, meat, dairy, a bit of everything really.” I popped the grapes into my mouth, happily chewing away. It was great how tasty all of this was.
“Um. What kind of meat?”
I stopped eating. Looking up, Quartz looked very nervous and more than a little pale. What I had just said finally caught up to me. “Oh no, no, no!” I quickly said. ”We don’t eat horses.”
Quartz’s nervousness looked to be replaced by confusion. “I’m a pony, actually.”
“Well, humans don’t eat ponies either.” I said. “And especially nothing sentient. Just chicken, pigs, fish, and cows, so don’t worry, you’re safe. Why are you looking at me like that?”
A war of expressions was waging on Quartz face. I couldn’t tell what they all were, but I thought I saw more than a little disgust. “Cows in Equestria are sentient.“ He said
Are you kidding me? I had to land in a place where there were not only talking ponies, but talking cows. What universe-bending skulduggery had occurred that led me to plant my foot squarely in my mouth.
“You’re kidding, right?” I said. When Quartz said nothing, the sinking feeling in my gut grew. I tried thinking of something else to say that would get me out of this minefield.
“Um.” My brain offered helpfully.
“I swear I didn’t know.” I said. “Our cows- Earth cows aren’t sentient. A-and if they were, we wouldn’t eat them, because,” I continued, “eating sentient things is wrong. So I wouldn’t to eat your cows. Or anything else that is sentient here.”
My impromptu speech had started out strong, but by the end it had petered into muttering territory.
That had sounded so bad, but it was all I could think of on the fly. Sentient horses and sentient cows, what the hell else could there be? I looked down at the floor between my legs as I nervously rolled the crystal between my hands. At least that was some comfort. It hadn’t gone off for any of that, so it was proving that I was been telling the truth.
Neither of us said anything, and the silence was starting to become really uncomfortable.
I risked a glance up, and was surprised that Quartz wasn’t even looking at me. His attention was split between looking at the door, and looking at the table.
I glanced at the table myself, making sure to give everything a once over.
My half-eaten platter of fruit sat forgotten on the corner closest to me. On Quartz’s end was a now mostly-empty ink bottle; the quill he had been using resting within it. Between them sat our glasses of water, and the second crystal.
I had nearly forgotten about it, but there it was nestled snuggly between our glasses. That sparked another thought. The water, how had Quartz asked for that? I searched my memories. He hadn’t sent for someone, or called anyone in, but the water had arrived anyway. In fact, Quartz had been taking it a lot of interest in the crystal throughout our conversation. Why would he be doing that? Unless.
“So who’s listening Quartz?” I said.
I had caught him while he had his head turned toward the door. At my question, he whipped back around so fast that I was amazed his glasses stayed on.
“How did -“ He started, before firmly clamping his lips shut. That had been enough to prove my guess though. The second crystal was, in fact, a listening device.
“To be fair, you weren’t exactly being subtle in the end.” I said with a shrug.
He slumped in his stool. He let his clipboard, now full of notes rest on what little space the table had left. “Was I really that obvious?’ He asked.
I waved my hand in a so-so motion. “What was this really about, then?” I said.
Quartz looked torn with indecision. He lowered his gaze, apparently resigned, before answering. “I hate to say it, but this was a test. To see how you would react to the opportunity to talk, and to see if you could be reasonable.” He looked up at me. “This wasn’t the way that I wanted to do this; I wanted to get you out of this cell before we talked, but I was told this was the best way to see if you were dangerous.”
I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable with the amount of trust Quartz had been willing to place on me. I would have agreed with whomever talked him out of it if the roles were reversed. At least there was the comfort in knowing that at least one pony didn’t see me as a threat.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I nearly missed the next thing he said. “I was also suppose to take care of the generic questions before your next talk.”
My eyebrows raised. I could only guess that he meant the person, or pony, on the other end of the line. “With who?” I asked.
Before Quartz could answer, the Aquamarine maid, I really had to learn her name, appeared at the doorway. “Mister Myers. If you will please come with me, Princess Celestia will see you now.”
My eyebrows tried to disappear into my hairline. A Princess. This day kept finding new ways to up the ante.
“Mister Quartz.” The maid continued, “You are free to go. Princess Celestia will send for you if needed”
Quartz had started to gather up his things but paused, surprise evident on his face. The maid returned his look with dispassionate professionalism. He turned to me, eyes pleading for me to say something that would allow him to come. He looked like a kid who was asking his Dad to go to a party when his Mother already told him ‘no.’ All I could offer him was a shrug and a slight shake of the head.
I had an opportunity to get out of this cell. If things went well, I might not have to set foot in one again. But I sure as Hell wasn’t going to jeopardize that chance by going against the word of a freaking Princess.
Sorry Quartz, but I am not holding any of the cards here.
Quartz’s ears drooped, his face once again looking like a dog whose just been denied a treat. Defeated, he turned back to gather his things, now with much less enthusiasm.
I stood up, whacked my head against the ceiling, and moved to the door.
“Please follow me, sir.” Said the maid, now turning.
Ducking through the doorframe, I paused, looking back into my cell. Quartz was still sitting in the middle of the room, the last of his things disappearing into what I first thought was a pair of backpacks. I realized a moment later that they were saddle bags, and felt a little foolish for the initial confusion. Of course they were saddle bags, what else would a race of pony use.
As I watch him, I felt an uncomfortable sensation begin in the back of my mind. God help me, I was actually starting to feel a bit bad for the guy. I couldn’t quite explain why I said what I said next, but I also had the sense that I was probably going to regret this later. “Hey Quartz.”
He looked up with those sad puppy dog eyes. “Maybe,” I continued, “We can talk again later. Once everything’s calmed down.”
“Sir.”
The maid was already several steps down the hall.
With one last look at Quartz, I turned to catch up.
Before I lost sight of him, I thought I saw a smile start to form.
Author's Note
Thank you everyone for the feedback with the last chapter. Here’s hoping chapter 3 can come out sooner than this one.
