Humanity and Ponykind

Humanity and Ponykind: An Autobiography

By Richard J. Mattheson

Canterlot Castle Publications

To Twilight, who is a fantastic friend above all others, and was my council when the embers of my mind were near extinguished. This book is dedicated to you and every one of your friends. Which is, to say, everypony and I.

[] Act I: Overture []

[] Opener []

To you dear reader, I am Richard Mattheson, and I am writing this because I have obtained a significant amount of information over my many years of living in Equestria. The information of the mind does not bode well if it is not shared, and what good does a story have if it is not remembered or cataloged? Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to write of my travels with those I became acquainted with, and what I shared in terms of human knowledge to the ponies of Equestria. It is a long and rollicking tale, so forgive me if this book takes up many an hour to read and digest. In fact, it might cause a swift bout of indigestion if not chewed methodically and appropriately.
To begin my story, it all started about 2 years ago human time, on the planet of Earth. Earth is the birthplace of the human species, or homo sapiens, and the place that I am proud to call my home. I was working a job in the government of the United States of America, the largest and most powerful of the Earth nations at the time. I had been given a special task, which was to make first contact with a new world, happening to be your world. Like all things, I handled it perfectly and was entirely sure of what I exactly had to do.

Richard Mattheson was entirely unsure of what exactly he had to do. Well actually, that’s not fair to say… Richard did know what he needed to do, he was just really unsure about where it might lead from there. Being unsure of himself was a thing that had been an ingrained part of his personality since his days of childhood, almost to the point of sheer absurdity. Yet at the same time, it was not unfounded that he was as wary as a trout and as skeptical as a politician if you’ll pardon the completely incidental political reference. You wouldn’t be unfounded to assume he simply chose to be unsure whenever the mood suited him, but Richard was not the type to make use of human emotion in such a fashion.

All that matters is that right now, that second, this was one of those times he was, in fact, quite unsure of himself. Being unsure wasn’t fun, by all means, it was quite messy with the perspiration, and made him feel uncomfortable, but it was something he endured as he did with many things in life… and now was of no difference.

He stood on a high platform raised over the side of a large cylindrical room, the walls lined with cold metal and crowded with a gaggle of scientists and men in military uniforms. Several monitors, terminals, and other complicated machinery read off numbers and figures that no doubt contributed to the preparation of the large machine in the center of the can-shaped chamber. Richard had been preparing two weeks for this day, complete with healthy breathing exercises and meditation, but despite all of his scattered training and the confidence of his peers he still felt wholly unprepared for his assignment.

This’ll be fine. He internalized, trying not to have a panic attack. They’re all counting on you. You can do this. Just remember your training.

Richard felt only slightly better, which was actually from the handkerchief he had used to wipe his forehead clean of sweat and not the flashback to what had caused this whole debacle in the first place.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Richard had asked this when he had walked into the office of General Mason, a prominent man in a decorative uniform with a barrel-chest and a shaved head, on one keen and lazy Saturday afternoon. Richard had been working with the US government as a linguist, messenger, and general office hand for about a year’s time, not to mention a few excursions at a diplomat, translator, and political informant to boot. All of this amounted to a somewhat undistinguished yet unique career in government, and Richard had originally gotten into his position because of a mixup rather than intention. Since his accidental hiring, he had found himself the exact kind of hapless bather the sharks of the US government wanted for a lapdog, and he had been set to work on a modest pay packaged in with mostly a bunch of insurance benefits. Now he stood in General Mason’s office, presumably to be briefed on a brand-new assignment, one that he hadn’t been directly formed of but knew was important to some extent.

General Mason nodded and waved him over. Richard made his way reluctantly towards the desk and sat down on a comfortless wooden stool, while General Mason reclined in a cushy office chair. Mason reached a bulky arm across the varnished burgundy, easily shaking the comparatively puny hand of Richard Mattheson.

“Welcome, Mr. Mattheson.” the General greeted warmly, exchanging pleasantries likening to a man being polite for something specific he wanted. “How are you doing today?”

“Very fine, thank you, sir.” Richard had replied, a mixture of pitiful gladness and stiff formality to his words. “May I ask why I have been summoned?”

The General nodded then and shifted about. His hands folded together and his elbows came to rest on his gleaming desk. A sly look was adopted on his broad face.

“Mr. Mattheson, are we to understand that you are capable of diplomacy?”

Richard nodded shortly, not knowing how in the world he had been pinpointed for diplomacy, considering the alternative diplomats to be chosen over him. He let out a small, unwilling chuckle.

“Well, um, yes,” he said cautiously, a faint grin to meet Mason’s. “I suppose you could say that. Done a bit of diplomatic work, here and there… but I’m no pro or anything.”

Richard scratched the back of his head and chuckled in concern, clearly trying to downplay his already poor usefulness. The General continued to smile.

“Move in closer, Mr. Mattheson.” he beckoned, waving a hand again.

Richard scooted noisily towards the desk, his stool screeching and scraping across the hardwood floor, until his knees were only an inch away from the front of Mason’s desk. Richard tucked in his legs and held them away, for it was more than his life’s work to touch the desk of someone this important. General Mason leaned in close, smiling purposefully at Richard.

“Mr. Mattheson, we have a highly important mission at stake, and we believe that you are the man for the job.”

Richard fiddled with his glasses absentmindedly. It was a frequent habit of his, meddling with the hinges so that they were parallel to the floor. Whenever Richard was excited, nervous, or even terrified, he would adjust his rounded spectacles so that they sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he did it for no real reason, and nobody had ever bothered to ask why he did it, which was completely fine with him. Even he didn’t really know why, it was just a habit. Nothing more.

He blinked methodically as if his adjusted glasses still did not permit him visual clarity.

“Wh-wha… me, sir?” Richard inquired, confused and in wonder. “Surely you don’t mean…”

“Of course, you! No mistake about it.” General Mason continued hearteningly. He stood up from his chair, hands behind his back, and paced behind his desk. Richard’s eyes turned to follow his movement, but he remained rooted to the stool. “Now, on to business. This assignment is top-secret, classified all the way, so I don’t want a word about this to anyone once you’re briefed.”

“B-But… why me of all people?” Richard asked as he fiddled with his glasses again. General Mason looked at him with another gaze of gratification.

“Because, Mr. Mattheson, you are talented, and we all can see that.” the General added confidently, though it seemed a bit more for encouragement than fact. “I don’t wanna blow too much smoke up your ass, but you’re the exact kind of guy we need. Expendable. Experienced. The perfect choice.”

Richard didn’t know whether to be flattered or highly offended. General Mason had a look of plausible deniability and continued despite any reservations.

“Your training starts tomorrow, report to the main hall at 0600 hours. We’ll brief you on the mission, what your main objective is, where to go from there. I’ll be honest, I don’t put much stride in these things, but I know you're a good man. So I… no, we trust you to do this right. You understand?”

Richard gulped and gave a slow nod, though, in reality, he may as well have found better clarity in TV static. Not understanding was just the tip of the iceberg, and a mountain-pile of questions was being built up underneath his fragile exterior. He raised a hand to try and assert his concerns.

“W-Wait just a minute-” Richard began, but the General gave him such an indulgent look that his words faltered. Knowing he had him pinned down, The General moved up and proceeded to shake Richard’s now moistened hands with a firm grip.

“Attaboy! You’re dismissed.”

Richard slowly rose from the stool and shuffled quietly out of the General’s office trading the hardwood for linoleum. He stood there, shocked, in the middle of the hallway. Then he went to thinking… what was he supposed to do? He had tried to say something, but the General had a forceful personality. Besides, how could he turn down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? To actually be remembered as more than just the one pencil-pusher who gave people coffee (the General liked it black with some honey) was something guys like him dreamed about in their beds, talked about around the water cooler, and thought about when sitting at their desks type-tapping away.

It was decided then. Richard was about to be the Sputnik I of his new mission, and he didn’t know what the butterflies in his stomach thought about that.

In hindsight, Richard could’ve obviously refused the General, or at least might’ve tried to stand up for himself… but in the wake of the moment, his head was vacant and his mouth was dry. Now he stood there, his mission and his things the only thing to guide him on his brand-new and totally manageable job: making contact with a foreign planet and establishing diplomatic relations. No sweat, or actually, lots of sweat… for sweat beads were forming on his pale brow now, just underneath his raggedly combed brown hair and the apprehensive and nervous expression that formed his face. His knees were buckling, his breathing was heavy, and never had Richard ever wanted to both not be and be at somewhere this badly before in his life.

One of the men in uniform cleared his throat loudly. Richard jumped a little and turned to the Colonel, who had been calling for him. He was another important military figure, though not as important as General Mason.

“Alright, Mr. Mattheson,” he said importantly, his steely gaze piercing Richard’s faltering eyes. “We’re almost ready for you. You’re about to be the first man to cross the multiverse and make first contact with another planet. We’re all counting on you, so try not to die until we contact you in a month, got that?”

Richard nodded with reluctance but tried not to let it show. He had to keep wiping the sweat off his hands so that his briefcase didn’t slip out of his shaky grip. He tried his hardest to be brave and look confident, but he screwed up his courage and felt his posture sink.

Alright, no big deal, of course. Walk in the park. Cakewalk. Any other walking analogy. All I have to do… is be transported through some experimental transportation device, meet an entirely new species of intelligent life, and formulate good relations without dying or messing up. No problem there. Easy peasy.

The Colonel clapped him on the back. The General was too busy observing the machine, so the Colonel had taken up his role of emboldening in his absence.

“That’s the stuff,” he replied happily. “get in there, quickly! Don’t want to use more power than we have to, and this thing chews through volts like you wouldn’t believe. Got all your things?”

Richard gave another hesitant nod, before actually checking to make sure he had them. He was wearing a moderately sized rucksack that rattled with possessions, a cheap suit moistened with exudation, and a brown leather briefcase he was clutching shakily by the handle. Everything was here, his papers, his provisions… all the bare necessities and basic essentials for crossing spacetime and transcending reality. To be frank, there was no level of preparation for traveling through the multiverse, and Richard knew he was going away from his home and everything he knew and loved, but there was little going for him here on Earth anyway. The Colonel walked away, said something to a man in a lab coat that Richard didn’t attend to, and he smiled warmly at Richard.

A tight metal door on the east side of the room slid open automatically with a click, showing the way to a metal staircase leading down to the base of the cylindrical room.

“Head on down, Mr. Mattheson.” a scientist told him. “Take your time, if you need… this is a big step.”

Richard nodded and he did take his time, pacing his way down the stairwell with footfalls that were more analogous to lead weights. After a minute of stairwell descent that seemed more like an hour, Richard made it to the base of the platform, the bottom of the cylindrical chamber. There was a large, round platform, brightly lit and surrounded by a large overhanging contraption, likened to a beacon. Then, the loudspeaker crackled to life, hanging overhead nearby. Richard realized he was breathing deeply, with slow, heavy breaths.

“Alright, Mr. Mattheson.” it informed, “Once you’re down there, step onto the platform.”

Richard felt his mouth turn into a hot sunny day. It seemed like he had a mile to cross to get there, but just like that, he was on the platform. He coughed a little in an anticipating manner, and his head turned to the platform that hung above him. It hummed with noise again.

“Resonance frequency online.” the loudspeaker announced. “Locking on to signal, establishing course.”

Richard realized sweat was dripping down his nose, and he wiped it away absentmindedly as he traveled skyward, the platform he stood on raising him up so that he was eye level with the platform. He adjusted his glasses again to ease himself, but it only held off the butterfly nest in his large intestine by a short moment. If there were anymore apprehensive, Richard might’ve choked on those butterflies, but he managed to force them down after exerting great mental effort. Didn’t help he was so high up, and his head was swimming now with a nauseous feeling known commonly as a ‘fear of heights.’

A sonorous sound echoed through the chamber, alongside a piercing beep. The loudspeaker hummed again.

“Connected! The subject of transport is locked on and the course is calculated! Initiating transportation sequence…”

It was hard to believe Richard would be leaving his reality for a completely new one, and he was going to be the first of his kind to do so, provided the government didn’t cover this whole operation up. The Colonel leaned in and pressed the intercom button, and looked right at Richard who was quaking in his size 7.5 dress shoes. The Colonel’s gaze met him, those piercing gray eyes boring into his dull green ones.

“Good luck, Mr. Mattheson, and god be with you.”

A loud humming pierced Richard’s ears, and the machinery around him began to rotate counterclockwise. Richard tried not to flinch at the fast movement around him, and suddenly, something occurred to him.
“Actually, I think I left the oven o-”

…and then he couldn’t see anything but streaming lights all around him, and he felt like he was traveling at the speed of light, which was a fair assumption to make. The experience was like being hit with a flashbang and flying at Zero-G at the same time, except it was also like falling through a vortex, for gravity released him and he flailed through the space wordlessly. He cried out to try and stop it, but the reality around him was warped and shaped and mutilated until there was nothing and everything. It felt like everything was moving around him, but he could only feel what passed by for fractions of a second.

Then, all at once, everything suddenly stopped. Reality took shape around him again, he could see, and he was real again. Richard found himself somehow standing right-side-up when he landed, but the force of his transportation caused him to buckle and sprawl across the dirty trek before him. Richard was grateful that his perception had finally returned to normal and that nothing in his body seemed to be misplaced, but the heavy landing had knocked the wind out of him, and he gulped the air. Lightheadedness, exhaustion, and nausea gripped him. His briefcase lay forlorn on the ground, he could feel his sweat pooling in his armpits, his head swimming with disorientation. If he lived through this, he’d swear never to travel via experimental teleporter if he could help it.

If I can manage it, he thought to himself, I’ll walk to another dimension. Teleportation’s overrated anyhow…

He might’ve simply laid there forever, exhausted, sprawled, and heaving in the muck of the dirt. Contemplating the ethics of experimental teleportation for hours on end, until the heat death of the universe… if it weren’t for a pair of objects that thudded into the dirt in front of him. Richard looked up to one of them and saw some sort of brightly colored pillar, completely smooth, with the bottom rounded and flat but not squared or sharpened. When Richard shifted to look at it, he found it lifted away from him, and he raised his eyes to follow it. What he didn’t expect was where it came from.

It was an alien… or maybe it was an animal… or a sort of cannily-colored creature with bright eyes that shone with curious intent, and a vaguely human-like face with all the features and emotive functions. It looked somewhat like a horse, if obtusely cartoonish, and far too firm in the uncanny valley to be completely equine. It was more like a child’s imitation that had been refined and made real, and it stood before him, a very human-looking expression of fear and wonder.

Then Richard realized there were more creatures, about a hundred of them, pooled around in a messy circle. All of them were staring at the very spot upon which he laid, likening him to a doll tossed aside carelessly, equipped with backpack and briefcase accessories. He slowly grasped said briefcase firmly, lifted himself off the ground slowly, and got up to his feet in the most caring and methodical way possible. Standing a bit crookedly, Richard saw he towered over them like a monolith, making every creature gaze up at him now in a mixture of concern and an overbearing dread.

Richard himself did not know how to respond, for this was the last thing he thought he’d have encountered, being a crowd of human-like equines so multicolored that they made up the rainbow and then some. He slowly drew up a hand to the bridge of his spectacles, which had been jostled by his sudden arrival, and affixed them proper. All their eyes seemed to follow his hand as he moved it, blinked with every flex of the nerves, and shifted with every twitch of a muscle. This silence, in particular, was deafening. Not a creature spoke, nor did the palpable tension permit a cough.

A faint breeze blew and whistled, weaving through what Richard saw a lovely and pleasant little hamlet, a completely idealistic medieval village of beautiful browns, tactful tans, and gallant greys. He looked to the sky, the picturesque cyan-blue sky, with clouds that were the most perfect he’d ever seen in his life. Richard took in an awestruck breath and exhaled.

“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

My adventure was only just beginning, and shortly after I found myself in Equestria, I was given some lovely accommodations. The mayor of the village I found myself in was sent for to see me, the mayor of a place called Ponyville, a very lovely place indeed. This was where I found myself on that fateful day. To say that I wasn’t in a tricky situation once I arrived in Equestria would be a mere understatement.

To say that Richard Mattheson wasn’t in deep shit would be a colossal understatement. Shortly after he found himself in the midst of what he could only discern to be a pleasant hamlet filled with small creatures that resembled horses, everything else that happened next was an angry blur of him being carted by a mob into a cell. True, he could’ve picked his words better, but he hadn’t expected any of them to faint or call for his arrest (some had, in fact, fainted and or called for his arrest). What followed was Richard being dumped into a cell, chained up and restrained, to await what would likely be some form of interrogation or imprisonment. He hadn’t even done anything either, so he wagered the society he found severely disliked outsiders, and he couldn’t have been more than right.

They might’ve tarnished him with vegetables if he hadn’t been arrested so fast, at a speed in which he didn’t even bother to resist. The cell he had been thrown into wasn’t much better, for it smelled strongly of mildew and wasn’t furnished, but the curious thing is that it seemed hardly used. Dust coated every surface, and the building itself was made of stone walls and thatched rooftops. It didn’t look to be able to stand more than the sun and the elements, but Richard wasn’t complaining… better this than solitary confinement.

Richard had no idea where he was, and considering everything that had just happened, he was starting to become very worried. He didn’t want to die here, especially not in this dark and damp cell. Then the front door opened, light from the outside flooding in and also proving it was a one-room jail similar to a sheriff’s office, where a trio of horse-like creatures stepped inside importantly. There were two outfitted to be guardsmen (though primitively, for they wore plated armor and helms that vaguely resembled that of Ancient Romans), and the third wore a white collar with some kind of puffy caravat. The third stood between the other two, bearing a grey mane and tan fur that gave her a stately appearance, akin to a congresswoman in equine form.

She gazed upon Richard, who laid against the wall with his right arm suspended by shackles and motioned to the two guards silently. The door shut closed behind them, shrouding the room once more in the fade of the shade. The third horse creature approached the cell bars slowly, staring bullets into Richard’s eyes, a grim look to her demeanor. Richard, not knowing how to respond, unintentionally gave her a look of innocence.

“Creature!” the horse creature began crudely. “Can you understand me?”

It seemed he was interpreted as a hostile outsider, so Richard responded as plainly as he could.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a bit smart about it, but still jittering. “I u-understand you.”

The lady horse creature seemed shocked that Richard was so… placid. There was no anger to him, nor was there any sense of disgruntled annoyance, but instead fearful anticipation.

The horse lady being raised an eyebrow. Her look gave the impression that she still didn’t trust him.

“And… and why are you here, creature?” the horse-lady inquired curiously. “Why have you come to this place?”

“I was transported here…” he answered truthfully, shifting as far forward as he could to be heard. The shackles restrained him from moving more than a few inches. “I came here because I am on an important mission.”

The congressmare looked over Richard again, who sat there in wonder and apprehension and raised another eyebrow.

“What is this… ‘mission’ of yours, creature?”

“I… I…” Richard began, before sucking in his courage. “I came here to pursue diplomatic relations.”

The congressmare blinked vacantly. She had not anticipated this creature was a diplomat, nor as she anticipated that he would be so cooperative. She sidled along a bit and whispered to the guard, who nodded and ran out. The congressmare turned back to him.

“What are you called, creature? What diplomacy do you seek?” she asked, the venom in her tone disappearing.

Richard nodded imploringly and rattled his chain for good measure as if it could potentially gain him her sympathy.

“My name is Richard Mattheson, and I’m the ambassador of humanity,” he explained hopefully, “I was sent here to meet with the sovereign leader of… wherever this is, and to exchange information between them and my species.”

The congressmare considered this, tapping a hoof to her chin.

“You are sure, then? Do you mean you do not wish to harm the ponies of Ponyville?”

Richard had to break out a coughing fit just to stifle his laughter. Following his display that the equine creature watched curiously, he leaned his head towards her.

“Of course not. I mean no harm towards the population of… Ponyville.” he said, stifling another snigger. He had a mission to carry out, he couldn’t blow it over something as stupid as a name… or a pun of a name, as it were. “I come in peace.”

The congressmare seemed a bit weirded out, but she was convinced. She nodded, after a final moment of silent deliberation.

“Very well. Wait but a moment, while I send for Princess Twilight.”

Richard gave a half-hearted and hapless shrug. He didn’t who ‘Princess Twilight’ was, but it sounded like someone important, and any authority he could contact was a bonus. The sooner he was out of this cell, the better, especially since his right arm was starting to cramp up from being forced into a raising-arm position by the shackles. The horse-lady turned and nodded to the remaining guard, and the pair left the building. Judging by the noise, the guard was standing posted outside the door, leaving Richard with his thoughts. He gulped.

“I hope this ‘Princess Twilight’ is merciful…” he said worrisomely, shrinking up against the wall.

After what felt like another fifteen boring, slow-as-a-snail series of minutes, the cell door opened again. There, a creature that seemed sub-heavenly stepped through… this creature also being a horse, but with wings and a horn, a weird cross between a Unicorn and a Pegasus, two creatures that Richard only knew to be mythical, and yet here she stood. She was lavender, with a mane with short-cut bangs, and a pink stripe right down the roots of her wine-colored hair. She was beautiful, at least for appearance's sake, though she seemed very… casual. She was only the height that the mayor had been, and not nearly as forceful.

The pegasicorn approached, looking at Richard with inherent curiosity. She went as far as the cell bars would allow. Richard cleared his throat.

“Um, is her majesty Princess Twilight busy?” Richard asked. “Or is she bringing me to her?”

The pegasicorn cocked her head and then frowned.

“I’m Princess Twilight.” she said suddenly.

Richard blinked, and then he recoiled in realization.

“Oh! Oh, oh please pardon me, your highness…” Richard begged, moving as close to the wall as he could. “I just- I mean, no it’s my fault I-”

The Princess seemed to be disoriented by all this. She flinched, grimaced, and then interjected into his pleas.

“I-It’s fine! P-Please calm down, sir, you’re not… you’re not in trouble.”

Richard slowed his roll and looked at Princess Twilight again. She didn’t… feel like a Princess, she just seemed like an ordinary pony, as ordinary as ponies go. Her look turned disheartened.

“Listen, sir… I just wanna know why you’re here.” she said, slowly and gingerly. “Mayor Mare said you wanted to pursue diplomacy.”

Richard nodded carefully, and his grin on the wall lessened. His eyes moved closer to where Twilight stood.

“Um, y-yeah! That, o-of course. I’m the ambassador of humanity, and my name is Richard.”

Twilight’s expression suddenly lit up, melting away all the tension that had been built. She giddily clung the bars, forcing her head towards Richard as far as possible.

“Ooh! Ooh!” she said in ecstasy, “You’re an ambassador on a diplomatic mission?! What’s your species like?! Where does your species live?! Does-”

Suddenly she stopped, realizing that she’d gone on another tangent again. Color drained from her face, and then flushed into it again. She stood there, silent.

“If you don’t mind me saying,” Richard said suddenly, “But you don’t seem like the regal type.”

Twilight’s blushing only grew. Then she coughed noisily. Was it that obvious?

“Oh! Uh, yeah, haha.” she responded, a bit nervous. “I’m uh, still kind of new, sort of. To the whole… princess thing.”

She chuckled nervously. If Richard thought badly of her, it didn’t show at all. He had stopped his reclusion, and was now leaning towards her again.

“Were you taken from your parents at birth?” he asked wonderingly. “Or were you never raised for your position? Did you replace someone who died?”

Twilight blinked. Then she laughed nervously at this.

“Oh! No, uh, well… it’s complicated,” she explained. “I wasn’t actually… born into a royal family or anything, it’s uh… it’s a long story.”

Richard chuckled warmly, not missing a beat. He was smiling down.

“I see. Well, I think you’re doing a very good job, for a do-it-yourself Princess.”

Twilight blushed again. She saw that he, like her, was new to their important position… Richard, after all, was supposed to be the ambassador of another species. He didn’t seem so formal to her.

“I’m surprised that you’re an emissary.” she remarked. “I would’ve thought somepony in your shoes would be more formal and straight-to-the-point.”

Richard merely shrugged towards this response.

“I’m no expert diplomat, but I’ve done a lot of reading and studying in my time.” he said simply “I only got this job because I was in the right place at the right time. If I was some kind of whizz diplomacy person, I probably wouldn’t have gotten locked in this cell. Wishful thinking.”

Twilight nodded.

“I can relate, sort of,” she added. “If it wasn’t for a certain fluke, I wouldn’t even be a princess. I was just… helped along by my friends and my mentor.”

Then she realized he was locked away in a dreary and drippy cell. The chain rattling should’ve been obvious. How long had he been in here?

“Oh, no! I’m sorry about what happened… Richard,” the name was unfamiliar in her mouth. “I hope you can forgive me! Ponies here in Ponyville can be a bit…”

“Reclusive?” Richard chimed helpfully.

Twilight deadpanned, but Richard caught a twitch on the edge of her mouth, showing a faint smirk that passed quickly. “Yeah, you can call it that, I guess.”

She leaned down her head, and a magical aura surrounded her horn. The cuffs holding his right arm to the pipe unlocked themselves, and so did the cell door. Richard rubbed his wrists gratefully, then he realized.

“Wait, how the heck did you do that?”

“Magic.”

Richard pretended not to hear this response. The last thing he needed was to learn that magic existed, too. No, he’d ask about this later. Magic just does not exist, it simply isn’t done.

“Thank you, Princess Twilight. You’re very kind for releasing me.”

Twilight beamed at this compliment.

“Please! Just Twilight, no need for any ‘Princess’ talk. All those formalities are a little… blegh.” she said, then stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes as she did. Richard chuckled lightly at this, and Twilight went on.

“If you can find it in your heart to comb this… whole mess over, you’ll find that Ponyville is a great place!”

Richard nodded happily. Twilight sure was nice, especially since most Princesses Richard had read about were either generic in their ‘nobility’ status or rebellious and potentially feverish.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” he said jokingly, and then laughed. His shakiness had disappeared. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Mattheson then, if you dislike the formalities so much. Let’s go.”

Richard approached, raised his arm, and gestured towards the door. The iron door handle sparkled, then swung open on its own, and was totally and completely not magic at all. Especially the kind that was done by Twilight’s weird unicorn horn trick thing she did before. Again, Richard dismissed this and went on to the conversation at hand and hoof.

“Lead on, your highness.” he said, with a sly smirk. Twilight rolled her eyes and pretended to be annoyed, but she smiled afterward. Their adventure was only just beginning.