The Head That Wears A Crown

“...Oh, where’d I put them? Spiiiiiiiiike! ” Twilight Sparkle sat in the middle of her basement laboratory, surrounded by a plethora of books, notes and magical devices. The young dragon clambered down the stairs and rolled his eyes. “What is it this time, Twilight?”

She looked of him with a mixed look of irritation and panic. “I can’t find those thaumic conductors anywhere! They should be here! They’re checked off on my spell reagent list!”

Spike gave her an incredulous look. “…They’re on the table next to you, Twilight.”

“Oh. Huh. Err, that’s good!” She gave a nervous giggle. “That’s great! That means I have everything to start the experiment!”

Her assistant frowned. “I dunno Twi. Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit? When’s the last time you’ve gotten any sleep? And didn’t even the Princess say long-range teleportation couldn’t be done?”

“Exactly! Just imagine how proud she’ll be when I manage it nonetheless!”

The dragon rolled his eyes once more as he turned and went back up the stairs. “This better not turn into another Smartypants Incident,” he mumbled to himself.

Freshly baked muffins. Even after all that time, he still found it impossible not to dwell on the fact that there he was, separated by his old home by the immeasurable expanse of time and space, yet still finding himself able to indulge in these delicious morsels of manifest nostalgia.

The stores in the cargo bay could last him decades if need be, which saved him from making the harrowing trip back to Earth more than every so often. The last time he restocked had been 23 years ago, yet it seemed only yesterday. Time seemed to pass differently for those who shared his curse.

Leaving the muffins to cool down, he proceeded to make himself a cup of tea. Darjeeling. The real thing, straight from the Himalayas. Not the commercial trash from the supermarkets upon which they oh so casually slap the label. At least they used to. They probably still do.

Sipping from his cup, he took in the reality of the ship that had been his home for the last century. One should hardly have cause to complain about the Nightingale. Luxurious, spacious and nigh-indestructible, it was truly one of a kind. An interdimensional palace, fit for a king. Hah. And what a king he made.

A youthful face, framed by bangs of ashen hair. Tall and lanky, his limbs seemed too long for his body. Dressed in simple black pants and shirt, he would have given the impression of a normal youngster in his early twenties, if it weren’t for his eyes. Bright orange globes which seemed to shine with an unearthly glimmer. Old eyes. Tired eyes.

He’d been cooped up in here for far too long once again. Once in a while he had need of these stretches of solitude, but having no one else but the ship’s computer to talk to eventually left him introspective to the extent that he’d been staring at his furniture for half an hour, while his tea had slowly gotten cold. He realized he should probably get out of this “parking spot” soon, lest he’d start talking to inanimate objects again. But where to go? His thoughts immediately went to Earth, but he rapidly dismissed the notion. Karlac? Too sunny this time of year. Tevran? Hell no. Last time he was there those posh twats of the Convent had roped him into another of their galactic domination schemes. He needed someplace new, someplace interesting. He sighed, realizing he was getting himself all worked up for no reason. He might as well take a shower, cool off a bit. Mens sana in corpore sano. Latin proverbs again. Yes, it seemed he desperately needed a change of scenery.

Having finished his shower and being in the process of putting on his clothes, he was suddenly assaulted by the ship’s alarms going at full volume.

“WARNING. UNIDENTIFIED LIFE FORM DETECTED. INTRUDER ALERT. INTRUDER ALERT.”

“I heard you the first time you loudmouthed waste of circuitry. Shut down the alarm and give me a status report!”

Immediately the alarms stopped blaring. The computerized, female voice resumed at a lower volume.

“Unauthorized teleport detected. Unidentified life form has been detected in living room area. Area has been put under quarantine. All exits have been sealed.”

“You’re telling me something teleported in. Whilst we’re inside a rift? Do the scanners show any other vessel?”

“Negative. No other vessels detected.”

He sighed. “Great. This better not be another of those “giant space flea out of nowhere” moments. Give me a visual.”

“Cannot comply. Energy spike resulting from unauthorized teleport has damaged various systems, including surveillance and intercom.”

“…So  the only option is to go inside and  check myself?”

“That appears to be correct, sir.”

“Nothing ever changes, does it?”

The computer had no response to that. He put on the rest of his clothes and went on to the nearest door to the living room area.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got. Computer, open the door.”

“Overriding security protocols. Disengaging locks. Opening door.”

As the door slowly opened, he protected himself with the standard counter-spells and shielding. Unexpected visitors were rarely of the friendly sort in his experience. What he saw when he entered the room however, was quite unlike anything he’d expected.

The living room looked as if a small hurricane had dropped by to visit and had left in an outrage after finding the place lacking in hospitality. Most of the furniture had been blasted against the walls, and some panels had fallen from the ceiling exposing cables and circuitry. And on the opposite side of the room, a small, purple, vaguely equine-looking creature was staring at him with eyes reflecting confusion and fear. He took a slow, tentative step in its direction.

The creature’s eyes went even wider and it backed up against the wall, then it spoke with a feminine voice.

“S-Stay where you are! Don’t come any closer!” The horn protruding from her forehead began to glow.

Ah. One of those. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. This was going to be a long day.

“My, what a thing to say to your host. Especially after partially demolishing his home.”

She gasped. “Y-You can talk.”

It would seem he would be rolling his eyes quite a lot at this one.

“What an astute observation. Clearly your intellectual capacity must be astounding. Yes, I talk. And walk. And am capable of many other things. Now if you don’t mind, I don’t take kindly to having a magical aura offensively projected towards me in my own home. It has the tendency to sour civilized conversation.

The equine had the courtesy to blush at this reprimand, yet still eyed him wearily as she dampened her aura. “What are you? And where am I?”

He clicked his tongue at her. “Seeing as you are the uninvited guest perhaps I should be the one asking questions first? No matter. Now, as for who I am: you may address me as Cyrus. I am a human of Earth, or was at least born as one. If you’d ask for my occupation, it would be something along the lines of scholar, sorcerer, traveler. As for where you are: you are in my home, the Nightingale, a vessel which is currently suspended within a rift between realities. And like all answers I see by the look on your face that these only create more questions for you.

It was a strange thing to observe a look of complete and utter befuddlement coming from an equine.

“I - Wha - Bluh?”

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. “Perhaps you’d like to take a seat?”

He levitated two of the overturned couches back to their usual positions and sat down in the one on his side of the room, then motioned for her to sit down in the other, which she reluctantly did.

“I’ve never heard of humans or a place called Earth! And what do you mean, a ‘rift between realities’? What…”

He held up his hand to cut off her stream of questions. “Patience, little one. I believe it is my turn to ask questions now. Computer, load up the database if you please.”

The equine watched in astonishment as the holographic interface appeared out of thin air.

“Now, unless my memory eludes me you are a denizen of Equestria, on the world of Equis. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Confusion returned to her expression, followed by fear. “D-Does that mean I’m…not on Equis anymore?”

He smiled kindly at her and resumed in a calm, gentle voice. “Once again, patience. I cannot give you conclusive answers to the questions you might have unless you fill in the gaps in my understanding first. Please, tell me who you are and how you came to be here. Or at least tell me what you were doing before you found yourself in my living room.”

“My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am a unicorn from Equestria, and Princess Celestia’s personal protégé.” She frowned. “It’s still a bit fuzzy. I remember a light, and a gust of wind.” Suddenly, realization dawned on her. “The spell! I was attempting to cast the long-range teleportation spell I’d been developing. Everything was going fine until…until the portal opened…I don’t really know what went wrong but somehow I found myself here.”

Yup. One of those. “Let me guess. You attempted this spell even though your mentor explicitly warned you that it couldn’t be done?”

She bit her lip, and the guilt was clear in her eyes. “Yes…but it should have worked! At least…in theory…”

He gave her a cynical look. “Everything works in theory, my little sorceress. Your mentor is right in that it can’t be done, at least not using conventional technology or arcane science.”

He activated the shutters, which slowly started to open. “You’re very lucky the Nightingale was “parked” right here, so to speak. Ending up in the vacuum of a rift between space is hardly a pleasant way to die.” The now open shutters revealed a swirling vortex of energies. To merely look at it made the mind spin. “You attempted long-range teleportation by ways of a gap between two points. Suffice it to say that those kind of gaps are quite a bit larger than you’d imagine, and they lead to more place than one.”

She was still staring at the window, completely at a loss for words.

He chuckled. “Take your time. Do you like muffins?” She merely nodded, still looking at the window. “Excellent. I’ll be right back.”

He went back to the kitchen area where he once more made tea, and then brought it back to the living room along with the remaining muffins. When he returned she turned from the window and met his eyes.

“I, I can go back, right?”

Her fear of not being able to return home practically radiated off of her. How very unlike me, he thought.

“You must be quite fond of your home. Fear not. Though I’ve never been, your reality is not unknown to me. It’ll take me some time to prepare the ship for a reality jump, but I should be able to get you back within 24 hours.”

He put the tea and muffins on a table he levitated over between them, sat down and then added:

“For a price.”

“A price?” Fear returned to her face. “You…you mean to hold me as a hostage?”

He laughed out loud. “So dramatic. Where do you get these ideas, little one? Such a vivid imagination you have. I merely ask that you sit and talk with me.”

“Sit? And talk?”

“Nothing more. Tell me of your world, and perchance I shall regale you with tales of my own. Are you not interested in learning of the multiverse beyond the confines of your own world?”

At this, fear and apprehension made way for the youthful enthusiasm of a student who simply could not learn enough. It was going to be a long day indeed. He’d probably need more muffins.