Ashes

My phone rang at two o’clock in the morning.

I should have been asleep. Not only that, I should have been deep enough under that the happy chirping of my ringtone went unnoticed. But I wasn’t. And it didn’t. Instead, I stared at my fan and listened to the rain pattering against my bedroom window, debating whether or not I should expend the energy to roll over and reach for my phone. Then again, people didn’t generally make calls at two in the morning for a jovial chat. Eventually, the worry budding in my chest led me to cave and grab my phone.

A photo of Twilight was on the screen, with her number underneath. I yawned and swiped the green icon.

“Twilight?” I asked.

“Sunset! You’re awake? Awesome! I could use some help.” She sounded upset.

“Is something up?” I threw my covers off and tossed my feet over the edge of my bed.

“Do you remember that experiment I was working on the other night? Well, I was putting some finishing touches on it tonight and I completely lost track of time.”

“No kidding,” I said, glancing down at my alarm clock.

“I know, I know,” Twilight whined. “But I’ve got a serious problem.”

I slipped my feet into the cozy, bunny-shaped house shoes on the floor beside my bed and stood up. My body demanded that I stretch. I used my shoulder to pin my phone to my ear and happily reached toward the ceiling. “Hit me with it. What do you need?”

She hesitated for a second. “I just went out to start my car and something’s wrong with it. I think the battery might be dead. My parents are out of town this week and Shining isn’t answering his phone. I’m sorry I had to wake you, but I didn’t know who else to call.” She sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

“Easy, Twilight.” I tugged down one of the slats in my blinds. A wall of water poured down the other side, to the point where the streetlight in my front yard resembled nothing more than a blurry light. A flash of lightning made me flinch. I hadn’t been driving long, and the conditions made me nervous, but I couldn’t imagine leaving Twilight at school alone all night. “Do you need a ride home?”

There was a long pause on Twilight’s end before she muttered a simple, “Yes.” Another long pause. “Thank you.”

I smiled and rubbed my eye. “It’s not a problem. I’ll be there in fifteen. Just sit tight.”

“Thank you, Sunset. I owe you one.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Chuckling, I snatched my wallet off my desk. It just barely fit in the pocket of my pajama pants. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way you can repay me. I’ll see you in a bit.”

The line went dead. I slid my phone into the opposite pocket and reached for the lamp on my bedside table. With the flick of a switch, it lit up my room enough to see without blinding me. Using the light, I opened my closet door and pulled my coat off its hanger. The studded leather felt stiff and a bit uncomfortable over my thin T-shirt, but at least it wouldn’t be ruined by the rain.

I exchanged my slippers for a pair of socks and tennis shoes. Before I left, I took a peek in the mirror. My red and gold locks looked like they’d been through a twister. It took a minute with a brush to tame it into a somewhat presentable form.

When that was done, I made my way downstairs through the kitchen, and to the laundry room. As I stepped out into my garage, I plucked my keychain from the hook. It had two keys and a unicorn keychain. A gift from Twilight. Or, the other Twilight. The pony version. It made me chuckle every time I locked my door.

Once in the driver’s seat, I adjusted my mirrors and tapped the button to open the garage door. The scene outside looked worse than it had from my bedroom. The rain was coming down hard. Just from here, I could see a deluge of water pouring down from my overflowing gutters.

“Celestia’s sake, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” I muttered to myself as I pushed the key into the ignition. It turned and the engine purred to life. Headlights switched on to reveal a wall of water blocking my way. I took a deep breath and pressed down on the gas pedal. As I cruised out from under the safety of my garage, the quiet interior of my car became a warzone.

Rain pounded down on the roof like cannonfire.

Explosions of lightning lit up the world.

Thunder rattled the very earth beneath my tires.

And here I was, a first-year driver, attempting to navigate the winding suburbs during it. Despite how often I’d done it, sitting behind the wheel felt foreign to me. The design of the seats, the placement of the levers and buttons. It all felt tailored to the human body. And even if I had one now, I still felt awkward in it. Even after a few years living in the human world, I guess I still had the soul of a pony.

The crack of thunder broke my introspection.

I could practically hear my driver’s-ed teacher’s voice in my head, berating me. “Both eyes on the road. Both hands on the wheel.” She had a point. This probably wasn’t the time to be losing myself in thought.

As I pulled up to the stop sign, I turned my windshield wipers up another notch. They were bouncing back and forth fast enough that it almost made me dizzy. But even with them turned up as far as they could go, the world outside my windows was blurred by water. The streetlights vanished everytime the lightning blasted. And in the brief moments of light, I could see the outline of the school ahead. After checking both ways, I let my foot off the break and started to roll forward again.

In a few minutes, I pulled into the school parking lot. It felt odd, seeing the lot like this. Usually, I could barely inch my way through the crowd of high school students flooding out from the building at the end of the day. Late at night, though, I could only see a single car. An old station wagon. The one that belonged to one of Shining Armor’s friends. The one Twilight used when she needed to haul her equipment.

I pulled in next to Twilight’s car and killed the engine.

I sat in my car for a while, listening to the rain. Closing my eyes, I tried to determine if the rain was slowing down at all. Didn’t sound like it. Instead, I pulled my coat tight and kept my head down as I opened the door. I slipped out as fast as I could and slammed the door behind me as I ran for the nearest door.

Despite the run only lasting for a few seconds, I found myself absolutely drenched by the time I made it into cover. After taking a moment to wring myself out, I opened the door. Twilight had propped the door open with a small wedge. I couldn’t imagine Principal Celestia would be thrilled to know that, especially with the miniature lake building up in the yard just outside. Just in case the water rose any higher, I removed the blockage and tossed it aside, letting the door close with a clank.

The hallways themselves were almost pitch black, lit only by the occasional flash from outside that managed to sneak in through the windows. I’d spent enough time in these halls that navigating them wasn’t an issue, but that familiarity did little to counter the eerie atmosphere of my school after dark. My brain kept telling me something was wrong, that I wasn’t supposed to be here. My phone’s light brought me a slim peace of mind, though, as I pulled it from my pocket.

“I’m here. Where are you?” I typed.

“By the gym. I’ve got just a few things left to finish up.” Came Twilight’s reply.

I clutched my phone to my chest and started towards the gymnasium. Each footstep against the linoleum rang like a church bell. Echoes bounced back from the empty classrooms, making it sound like a second set of footsteps were following me, trying and failing to match their stride to mine. The noise kept me glancing over my shoulder.

And my paranoia only grew worse as I entered the gym. Empty hallways were one thing. But the empty gym was another beast entirely. The large open space, like an abyss, left me feeling exposed. Wind howled and rain drummed against the roof, effectively deafening me as I stepped out onto the court. At the far end of the gym, I could see an open door with a small shape standing in it.

For a brief moment, I froze, a cold chill racing up my spine.

“Sunset!”

I exhaled in relief and knelt down, patting my knee. Spike’s claws clicked against the floor as he bounded toward me.

“Hey, Spike,” I said, scratching behind his ear. “You scared me a bit, there.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He gave an apologetic smile.

“Is Twilight around here?”

“She’s downstairs in the lab.”

“The . . . lab?” I asked, arching my eyebrow. “I didn’t know the gym had a lab.”

“It . . . uh . . . didn’t last week,” he explained, turning and bounding off back towards the door. I followed his adorable wagging tail all the way through the backstage area, toward a staircase leading down. I’d only ever been down here a handful of times, but I didn’t remember anything down here aside from old storerooms full of sports equipment.

Spike led me past a few of said rooms, until we reached one with the door open and a light on inside. With the sound of the rain now muted a fair bit, I could hear the clicking of keys on a keyboard, as well as the occasional huff of frustration.

“Come on, another error? I thought we fixed that already!” Twilight yelled at her computer screen as I slipped in. The purple-haired nerd sat at a worn down computer desk, dressed head-to-toe in her pajamas. She had her laptop in the center, with two other monitors on either side. The few gaps of empty space left on the desk were buried in snack bags and empty coffee cups. I cleared my throat, causing Twilight to jump in her seat.

“Hey, Sunset,” she said, twirling her chair around to face me.

“What’s up?” I asked, leaning against the door frame. “You ready to go?”

“Almost. I’ve just got to get through this last bit, but the system is giving me some trouble.” She sighed. “I’m sorry you had to come down here and help me like this.” She turned her head away and rubbed her arm.

“No harm done. It’s not like I was sleeping anyways,” I said with a shrug.

Twilight returned to her keyboard. I watched as lines of code and a few progress bars filled the screen. They didn’t seem to be moving anywhere fast. So, I decided to step inside. Turns out, I was right in my earlier prediction about the sports equipment. Although it wasn’t here now, I could still smell stale sweat.

I paced around the concrete storeroom for a while, careful to step over the masses of cables scattered across the floor. They ran all across the room, from Twilight’s desk, to a piece of junk that I think was a generator sitting against the far wall, to the large metal platform in the middle of the room.

“What’s this?” I asked, pointing down.

“What’s what?” Twilight asked. She peered over the top of her monitors and adjusted her glasses. “Oh, that’s my newest invention. Or . . . my next invention?” She shook her head. “That’s what I’ve been working on the last few weeks.”

“Oh.” I glanced back down at the metal disc. It looked a bit like a small stage. Several cables, each about as thick as my arm, were plugged into the side. “But what is it?” I asked again.

Twilight didn’t look away from her screen this time. “It’s an interdimensional gateway. Or that’s what it’s going to be, as soon as I can figure out what’s wrong with it.”

“An . . . interdimensional gateway?” Yeah, that sounded about right for her. Nevertheless, I felt a cold hand grip my stomach. “Twilight, you aren’t messing around with magic again, are you?”

I heard the typing stop. I glanced over to see Twilight with her hands in her lap, her head hung low. “No. Never again.” She sounded scared. And a little bit hurt. “But all of that . . . stuff that happened last year got me thinking.” She stood and stepped out from behind her desk to join me beside the metal stage. “I realized that this world is just one of so many. I wondered what other worlds might be out there. What could we learn from them?”

“That’s a . . .” I bit my lip. “That sounds like it could be a dangerous line of thought.”

Twilight turned to face me. She had a spark in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. Something about it made me antsy. “I think I figured out a way to make it safely. I spent some time sifting over my old records. I managed to recreate the effect without needing magic. And using that, I can open a stable portal to another world. Without damaging either one.” She flinched. “Hopefully.”

“Twilight . . .” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

“Sunset, I promise. I’ve put safety above everything else on this project. But I’m still a scientist at heart. I can’t look at a phenomenon like this and just throw it away.” She stopped and took a step back. “Or . . . or am I just losing it again?” Her eyes darted back and forth around the room before glancing up at me. “I’m . . . am I doing something wrong?”

I looked down at the machine, then back to the scientist almost cowering at my side. I couldn’t think of something to say. I mean, sure, this was dangerous. But I had been a magical researcher once, too. Eager to learn, to experiment. And plenty of that work had been just as dangerous.

“Just promise me that you’ll stop if things start getting out of hand again, okay?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Twilight nodded.

I put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at it, then back up at me. “Now, can you please finish up whatever you were trying to do? If we stay here too long, my car’s going to wash away in the storm.” I offered her the sincerest smile I could manage.

She beamed back at me. Her head seemed just a little higher, her shoulders a little straighter. I wondered how long that question had been eating at her. I understood. Not too long ago, I had been in her shoes. Part of me wondered if maybe she was starting to have nightmares, too.

“Oh, come on!” Twilight banged her fist on her desk, snapping me out of my daze.

“Still not working?” I asked, planting myself behind her and watching over her shoulder. Her computer spit error after error at her.

“No,” she muttered.

“Anything I can do to help?” I offered.

Twilight turned her head just enough to watch me from the corner of her eye. “Do you know anything about computers?”

“Nope,” I said confidently.

“Then I doubt it.” She groaned and threw her head back. “I’m sorry this is taking so long, Sunset. But I’ve got to get this data backed up. There’s weeks worth of research here that I can’t risk losing if something gets fried.” As though the universe itself were mocking her efforts, thunder crashed outside, causing the lights to flicker momentarily. “See?”

“And just what is this data you’re saving?” I asked. I may not have understood computers, but I did understand data.

“I had my first test run tonight,” Twilight explained, not taking her eyes off the screen. “I’ve spent the last six hours calibrating this thing in preparation. Lots of time spent tweaking long formulas and equations.” A loading bar appeared on her screen. “But, if I can incorporate that data, I should be able to create a functional portal.” She paused her typing as the bar started to fill. “I tried already, but the system lost power right in the middle of the test. I’ll probably have to sift through the hard drive later to look for corruption.”

I nodded enthusiastically. I had no idea what hard drive she was referring to. The only hard drive I could think of would be the one back home. At least, judging by the utter chaos I could hear from the world above.

More lightning. Louder thunder. This time, the lights flickered for several seconds before sputtering out. I heard Twilight yelp as she jumped up, knocking over her chair. Oddly, her computer was the one thing that didn’t seem to have lost electricity. I glanced back at the generator in the corner. It, too, still had its lights on, blinking in a vain attempt to ward off the darkness.

“No. Nononononono,” Twilight stammered as she grabbed a flashlight from her desk drawer.

“What are you doing?” I asked, taking a step toward her.

“I’m going to go check out the breaker. If we’re lucky, it’s just a tripped fuse and I can have the power back on before the generator dies.” Twilight didn’t give me a chance to respond before flicking on her light and sprinting out of the room. Spike followed on her heels.

“Guess I’ll just wait here,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

After a minute, I heard the sound of a sputtering engine. I watched as the lights on the generator blipped out. Twilight’s computer died, plunging the room into pitch blackness. In the dark, I could hear the slightest sounds of rain above, broken only by my occasional breathing.

And then the sirens started.

I felt my heart climb into my throat. In the short time I’d lived in the human world, I’d heard the sirens ring fairly often. But those were only drills. Something told me that this wasn’t a drill.

Before I could even think about what I should do, the world itself shook with thunder. The lights clicked back on and Twilight’s machine switched back on. A sound like a whirring engine filled the room, but it came from the machine itself, rather than the generator. I stood for a second, listening to it climb in pitch and volume. The smell of burning ozone filled the room.

My instincts told me to run. And I tried. But as I took my first step, I felt my foot snag on the thick cable bundle.

I tripped.

I barely even had time to realize I was falling before everything went blank.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t hear the storm or the sirens. I couldn’t hear the machines. Everything around me ceased to exist as Twilight’s machine filled the room with a blinding bright light.