Anon's Detour

by NeonDF

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Profanity, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, Anon
Length: 21546

Anon gets lost in a park and ends up returning to the wrong civilization. Hopefully they could help him find a way home... once he figures out how to ask.

Anon gets lost in a park during a short detour for some fresh air and ends up returning to the wrong civilization. One consisting of strange colorful creatures, who may or may not be aliens, robots in disguise or simply runaway products of a government black site biolab. It's hard to tell for sure, but hopefully they could help Anon find his way home... once he figures out how to ask.

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A/N: Been lurking since 2015 and finally decided to write a fic. Tags will be updated as necessary, don't want to spoil some of the plans. Cover image has been slightly edited to make Derpy's speech illegible.

Published 2023-02-03 18:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-05-19 22:25:16 UTC

Chapter 1

Anonymous has always considered himself impartial when it comes to nature. He was not an avid lover, ready to touch grass and hug trees at every opportunity, but neither he disliked it, sometimes going so far as to take a half-hour detour through the nearby park to enjoy the view and settle nerves after work.

One such detour got him to where he is now: ravenously hungry, hopelessly lost in the woods and wishing every curse on the nature he spent the last 24 hours “enjoying”. The park turned out to be bigger on the inside, with a heavily forested section vast enough there was no cell reception, and the floor rich with undergrowth usually absent from the more maintained parts.

There were no trails, power lines, cell towers or other similar signs of human presence. Even the most ubiquitous one – trash – was nowhere to be seen, which worried him the most.

Climbing over a fallen tree and ascending to a relatively open hill, Anon stopped for a bit to catch his breath and attempt to spot some landmark. There was nothing of note, but the opposite side featured a steep descend and thick vegetation, which brought hope of finding water. Taking a deep breath, Anon went off in that direction, taking care to maintain stable footing and avoiding any nasty shrubbery.

After 15 minutes of slow progress, he reached the bottom of the ravine. There, indeed, was a brook, happily making its way through the soft turf and leaving behind a yellow road of sand. Relieved, Anon rushed the rest of the way and kneeled, plunging his hands into the cool water.

He quickly washed the grime away and greedily drank from the stream, silently praying the water was clean enough it wouldn’t make him sick later, and then took his time to clean his legs, washing away the dirt and caked blood from the small cuts accumulated during the ordeal and letting the coolness sooth his tired muscles.

A loud snap brought him back to reality though, and Anon whipped his head towards the sound. There, on the other side of the brook some 15 meters away was a wolf. Or, some… thing resembling a wolf. It was brownish-green in coloration with tufts of hair sticking out all over the body, but the most startling feature were a pair of glowing green eyes. The eyes which were tracking him, as the thing slowly made its way closer.

Fight or flight response took over, and a moment later Anon found himself tearing through the underbrush climbing back the way he came. Quickly reaching the top and breathing heavily, he took off as fast as he could in a random direction.

Tearing through bushes and ducking under low-hanging branches, Anon worked his legs off putting as much distance from the wolf thing as he could. A late thought crossed his mind – if he were to run along the brook instead of climbing back, he would’ve not only conserved stamina, but also eventually found some sign of civilization – but it was quickly squashed as his spleen made itself known with a sharp pang of pain.

After sprinting some more, he eventually dared to slow a bit and tack a glance back, only to see nothing but trees. Slowing down to a jog and holding his pained side with his hand, Anon kept moving for a few more minutes, occasionally scanning the surroundings.

There were no signs of the wolf thing pursuing.

Finally deciding he was far enough, Anon stopped and leaned against a tree, feeling his body coming down from the adrenaline high. Hands shaking, he slid down to the ground and let out a few shuddering breaths. Whatever it was, it seems to have lost him.

Shifting into a more comfortable position and taking deep and steady breaths to calm down, Anon took note of his surroundings. He was still in the forest, but this area seems to be on a wilder side, with massive trees towering above, their thick canopy letting little light in. Dark clouds could be seen through the openings, and various shrubs Anon didn’t know the names of surrounded him on almost all sides, blocking the line of sight. A quick check with the smartphone showed the continuing lack of reception, as not even emergency calls were available – something he always used to take for granted.

But there was still light at the end of the tunnel, in somewhat literal sense. In one direction the forest seemed to be thinning out, with little vegetation and sparsely growing trees letting considerably more light in. A fresh breeze was blowing from there as well, bringing in the smell of fresh hay and manure.

Never in his life Anon thought he’d be so happy to the smell the manure. Manure means cattle, cattle means farm, farm means civilization, and civilization means getting home, stuffing himself silly with food, taking a hot shower and passing out in a comfy bed.

Thoroughly inspired, Anon sprang back from the ground and took off at a brisk walk, relying on his nose for guidance. It didn’t take long to break the tree line, which revealed a vast orchard with apple trees growing in neat rows. The apples were small and green, evidently a few months away from harvest, but that was expected of May. Snagging one, Anon took a bite. It was hard and bitter, but circumstances made it easily the best apple he tasted in his life.

The clouds overhead were getting noticeably darker. Rain was coming soon, and it would be wise to seek shelter. Anon decided to turn left and follow the edge of the orchard, snacking on an apple occasionally and hoping to eventually hit a road or some building.

Another half an hour passed, and from behind the tree peeked out a two-story house surrounded by a fence. It was painted red with windows highlighted by hand carved white trim, its gable roof sporting an attic tower which had an apple-shaped wind dial at the top. It was safe to assume this was the orchard owners’ house.

The sight of it made Anon cry out in joy and relief, and he quickly made his way towards the house. Climbing over the chest-high fence, he saw entirety of the fenced off area which turned out to also contain three barns with cows mingling in a nearby enclosure, as well as multiple sheds and a small wooden hut in the far corner. An empty wooden cart stood near the house entrance, which featured a wide porch with similarly wide overhang above it, a massive wooden door and a vintage doorbell, which was an actual bell with a short rope attached.

Heavy rain drops began falling from the skies, Anon crossed the opening and ascended the stairs, seeking shelter under the overhang. He took a minute to prepare for meeting the owner, or owners, combing his hair with fingers to regain some modesty and mentally going over what he would say if they were to pull a gun at him. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, right?

As the rain intensified and turned into downpour, Anon raised his right hand, grabbed the bell’s rope and gave it a sharp tug. The sound it made was loud and oddly pleasant, its ringing easily carrying through the noise of the rain, but nonetheless Anon gave it a few more rings for the good measure.

Nothing happened at first, and Anon was about to reach for the rope again, but then he heard some indiscernible voices from beyond the door and a slam of the deadbolt.

Anon exhaled and put on a smile. The door opened.

Chapter 2

The thing that was looking at him was best classified as a Pokémon knockoff. It barely reached his chest, had a body type somewhat resembling a pony, but with thicker legs, and had a bright orange coat. The most striking feature though was a weirdly human-like face sporting a pair of giant green eyes staring right into his soul from underneath an honest to god Stetson hat.

The sight was so bizarre it left Anon in a stupor. Unlike the wolf thing, this creature didn’t appear threatening, but it also did not resemble any animal he has ever seen in a zoo, on TV or in the internet. Closest he could come up with was Pokémon fanart, except this one was three dimensional, breathing and seemingly living.

The creature blinked, its pupils leaving his own and going over his body. Anon stood still under scrutiny, his smile frozen into a slight grimace, as the creature kept examining him. It then titled its head on the side, like a dog, stood still for a second and suddenly took a step forward. Anon reflexively took a step back.

That broke the spell. The creature let out a loud whinnying noise and sprang back, which caused Anon to spring back as well, turn 180 while in the air and start pumping his legs, carrying his ass out of danger for the second time this day. He did not hear the door slam behind, nor did he feel the rain pouring down as he quickly made his way as far away from the porch as possible.

It didn’t take him long to come to senses this time. Soaked to the bone, Anon recalled the small shack he saw on the way here. Taking a few second to reorient himself and spot the target, he made yet another dash, this time towards the shack, hoping the creature wouldn’t follow him there.

On a closer look the shack turned out to be a small tree house, with makeshift ladder nailed together from a few planks leading up from the ground towards the entrance. Not slowing down a bit, Anon rushed upwards, his muddy shoes almost making him slip twice, shoulder-checked the door, rushed inside and slammed it behind.

He held still for some time, catching breath and listening for any sounds from the outside. There was nothing but the drumming of the rain on the roof and rustling of trees under the wind, and an occasional rumble of thunder.

Taking a moment to assess the surroundings, Anon was pleasantly surprised at how nice the shack was. There was a window with curtains, a table near it with an empty vase, another table some ways away surrounded by a trio of chairs. But what held the most of Anon's attention was a giant fluffy rug right in the middle.

He suddenly realized he’s been awake for almost 40 hours at this point. A full day of work, countless kilometers spent walking through forest, a sleepless night spent in woods jumping from every sound, then running for his life twice left Anon entirely exhausted.

By now, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the possible danger of being found squatting on someone else’s property. He grabbed a chair, propped it at an angle between the doorknob and a crack in the floor boards, effectively jamming the door, then closed the curtains on the window, took off his wet clothes and muddy shoes and laid down on the rug. It smelled of dust and dirt, but Anon was beyond the point of caring. Grabbing a side, he flipped it over himself to act as a blanket, and immediately fell sleep.

He dreamed of sleeping back home in his bed.

It was morning of the next day. A little yellow-coated pony, little by virtue of being a young representative of her species, has recently finished her morning routines of feeding cattle, cleaning the house and tending to plants, and was now awaiting other two similarly little ponies in hopes of starting the most important activity of the day – seeking their purpose in life.

According to her elder sister, a strange bipedal creature was spotted yesterday, so as a precaution they were banned from leaving the premises for the day. Luckily, there were still things to try on the farmstead, so the sudden restriction would not interfere with the plans.

As expected, the other two has shown up after only a few minutes of wait. One was white-coated and had a horn, and another was orange and sported a pair of wings. Traditional greetings in the form of a hoof-bump followed, and the trio set off towards their base of operation – recently constructed tree house near the corner of the property – chatting over the news and new ideas on the way.

It didn’t take long for them to reach it. The makeshift ladder leading to the entrance was quite narrow, so they had to get in line, with yellow pony taking point, and climb it one after another. But when she reached the top and pushed the door, the door did not budge.

The pony tilted her head and tried pushing again. Nothing happened. The orange pony that was following after her also tilted its head, and voiced its curiosity. The yellow one replied, and pushed the door again. It did not budge. Brief chatter between the two ponies followed, with occasional attempts at pushing the door, when suddenly a third voice spoke up.

The voice belonged to the white pony, third in the line, and prompted a pause from the other two. They replied in unison, and the white tilted its head, thought for a second and let out a short phrase. The yellow one turned its head forward, pushed the door again, turned back and let out a string of chatter. The white pony tilted its head on the other side, and let out another short phrase, receiving no reply this time. The yellow one silently turned from the door, stepping a bit to the right towards a balcony which was placed right under the tree house window, and tried peered in. The curtains were closed.

The orange and white joined her on the balcony, a bit more back and forth followed, and then the white one closed her eyes in concentration. Her horn light up with light green glow, same glow that seemed to now surround the window, and slowly and shakily the window frame raised up and locked itself in place, followed by curtains moving aside.

The inside looked different from how they left it. First, it turned out the chair has somehow moved and jammed the door. Second, there were clothes of unknown origin lying in a pile. And last, the rug was occupied by a strange creature lying on top of it.

None of them recognized the creature. It would be hard to tell whether it’s even a creature and not a rock, were it not for its chest area moving as if from breath. The yellow one, recalling her sister’s warning this morning, relayed it to her companions. A moment of silence followed. The orange one spoke up, prompting white to light up her horn again and close the window, then all three in a hurried fashion stumbled down the stairs and took off towards the house.

Upon reaching the porch and opening the door, the trio rushed inside, whinnying loudly and causing the other inhabitants to gather in the hallway. It took some time for them to decide on a course of action, but in the end, the yellow one’s sister, orange pony, ran outside and took off down the road, and a massive red pony, their brother, locked the door and ascended to the attic tower to keep watch.

Chapter 4

The creature looking at him from beyond the doorway had a red coat, orange mane and was wearing a yoke. Which made sense to Anon – something had to pull the cart after all. It also had a bulkier body, which supported that theory.

Collecting his wits, Anon looked over its head inside. A cozy hallway, with multiple doors and a stairway leading somewhere up and to the side. One of the doors was open, and he could spot a massive wooden table covered with apple-themed cloth and surrounded by chairs. A dining room most likely. Still no sign of the owners. Deciding on a more proactive approach, Anon hollered inside.

“Hey! Anyone home?”

The creature pinned it ears down to its head and looked past the man and at the two standing aside. There was no reply from inside the house. The orange one let out some chirps and nickers, at which the red one silently tilted its head. Then it looked back at Anon, who’s been watching the entire exchange, snorted, raised its foreleg to the door and slammed it shut in one move. The sound of the deadbolt followed.

“Figures.”

Scratching the back of his head, Anon turned on his heels and took a look around the property. The owners must’ve been absent, which honestly suited him just fine considering who they might be, so the next best bet would be following whatever road leads outside until he either finds some other property or reaches a highway where he would be able to hitch-hike back home. Or, he could try a simpler approach first.

Anon fished out his smartphone out of the pocket. That seemed to unnaturally agitate the lavender creature, who began to rapidly nicker and whinny to its companion. Ignoring the two, Anon tried turning it on. The screen lit up, displayed a frowny face hooked to an empty battery, then promptly died. Phoning home was out of the question now, and he was not desperate enough to break into some billionaire’s property, so he simply put the smartphone back, took a deep breath and set off on a straight line towards the gateway. Which coincidentally made approach the creatures.

On a closer look, their coats were short and well-kept with a bit of shine to them. That, coupled with the constant nickering and whinnying made them resemble horses rather than dogs. Or, given their height, ponies. Both also had colored images on their hindquarters, perhaps some sort of branding or the manufacturer’s logo.

Walking past the ponies, Anon made his way to the gateway. There were no actual gates, and the frame itself seemed hand-carved and covered with ivy. In the middle there hang a wooden sign with an apple-shaped hole, but otherwise there was no indication of who the property might belong to. Considering the utter lack of defenses, the ponies must’ve been some kind of guards of this place, so it all made sense now.

Anon crossed the gateway and proceeded down a dirt path. The ponies were following him, but they kept their distance and did not attack, so they probably just made sure he left for good. Occasional nicker and snort were almost unnoticeable at this point, so Anon let his mind wander once again. He tried not to think about the trouble he just avoided, occupying most of his thoughts with how he must get back before the evening, as this was his second, and last, day off. That slowly transferred to daydreaming about a warm meal and a cup of coffee, as well as spending a night in a bar with his buddies next week slamming drinks and laughing their asses off over his misfortune and the whims of the rich.

A short walk through the fields took him up a hill, from where he saw a hamlet. He stopped for a second, his followers taking note and stopping as well.

The houses had similar color palettes and were at most 2 or 3 stories high, it would look like one of those towns built by a single real estate developer were it not for the roads. There was no asphalt, the roads weren’t even paved – it was all trampled grass and trodden ground. But what worried Anon the most were colorful blobs moving throughout the hamlet. Feeling apprehensive, he continued following the path which let right down the hill and to the edge of the town.

As he came closer, he could definitely make out the colored blobs as ponies, similar to the ones that kept following at fifteen paces and making quiet noises. There were dozens of them, each with their own coat and mane colors, as well unique images on their hindquarters. Ponies were walking, ponies were chatting, ponies were sitting on benches, ponies were standing still with tilted heads and staring as he walked by. There were no cars, no lampposts, and even no wires hanging above. Nothing around but ponies.

Entranced, Anon kept walking forward until he reached the town square. On the right there stood a pagoda-like building, towering about the rest with its 4 stories, and the left side was occupied by a dozen marked stalls, each with a pony in place where the seller would stand. Some ponies were standing in front of the stalls, seemingly browsing the wares, and a couple were even agitatedly chittering with the “sellers”.

The center of the square featured a fountain with a marble statue of a rearing pony in the middle. The rim was quite wide and dry, which came in handy as Anon slowly stumbled near and plopped down on it, putting his elbows on the knees and propping his head with both hands.

What was happening around defied all explanation. It was like a human town, except there were no signs of humans. The creatures around seemed to behave in an extremely organized fashion for mere animals, yet he could not believe something with such range of movements and, for the lack of a better word, grace, could be a robot. The technology simply was not there, as far as he knew. But if these are not robots, then what? Aliens? They look entirely too simplistic for aliens. How would they travel to Earth, if the most advanced piece of transportation he’s seen so far was a wooden cart? No, no way these things are aliens. Unless it’s like in The Martian Chronicles, where the Martians were able to affect one’s perception of them... Anon shuddered at the possibility. But still, if not aliens, then what? A government black site? These are heavily guarded by the military, no way he could’ve accidentally stumbled into one. Also, he never heard any mentions of government facilities in the area: it’s hard to hide existence of such things near population centers where residents are commonly either relatives of facility workers or are workers themselves. Some rich fuck’s deranged experiment? These also love their privacy, but instead of machine gunners at every 50 meters they usually put a 5 meters tall fence decorated with barbed wire. Hard to miss one of those either.

He was brought out of his thoughts when something touched his arm. Jerking away and letting his head go, he looked up and was met with a sight of the lavender pony standing nearby, its forehoof raised and hovering near his arm, its magenta eyes flickering over his face. The pony opened its mouth and let out a few whinnies followed by a nicker. Anon just kept sitting there, staring dumbly at the creature in front of him and realizing there was no way it was a robot. The iris had some small discolorations in it, the pupil kept changing size, and he could make out the capillaries in the sclera. The eyes looked too organic, too expressive for a mere imitation. Too… smart. The pony just kept waiting for an answer, looking him in the eyes. Receiving none, it tilted its head. Anon suddenly recalled the dog his parents used to keep, how it would always tilt its head whenever it was confused, and how he as a kid would parrot it for the fun of it. A moment later, Anon tilted his head as well.

The pony recoiled with a strange sound. It then took a couple steps back, and launched into a tirade of horse noises, only to be interrupted with a snort from the orange one. It then let out a nicker, took a couple steps towards Anon, tilted its head down and pushed at his side with its forehead, keeping the horn to the side.

“Hey, what gives?”

It paused, looked up, let out a snort, then lowered its head and pushed again, causing Anon to lose his balance and spring up to his legs.

“Okay, what do you want from me?”

The pony let out another snort, walked past him close enough its coat rubbed over his leg and then set off on a steady gait in a random direction. Anon just stood there, surprised at such display of initiative. The pony stopped, turned its head around and let out a nicker.

“Are you for real?”

Having a vague idea of what it wanted, Anon decided to play dumb for a change. The dog he recalled would always try similar tactic to get him to follow, devolving into needy barking after a few failed attempts, and sure enough, the pony just circled back, let out another snort, rubbed over his leg again and set off in the same direction, only to stop after a few paces and look back. Not having a better plan in mind, Anon let out a huff and moved after the pony.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

Chapter 5

Following the lavender pony, Anon couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over its body. He could see the muscles contract in its legs with the rhythmical sway of the hindquarters, each side adorned with a cartoonish depiction of star surrounded by smaller stars. The hooves were surprisingly clean and well kept, each producing a soft clopping sound as they steadily hit the ground one after another. The tail was colored similarly to its mane – blue with purple and pink stripes – was quite long and would’ve reached the ground if it wasn’t trimmed straight at the end. A brief glance underneath identified the pony as a mare.

The mare has been leading him for a few minutes until they’ve reached a bizarre building. It looked as if a regular oak tree had its trunk and branches thickened ten times over then hollowed out and turned into a house. He could recognize a balcony, some windows that must’ve been on the second or a third floor and even a platform with a telescope at the top. There was a sign near the entrance with a book drawn on it, but no sign at what the building could be there for.

The pony reached the door and, as if it was completely natural, pulled it open with a hoof, stepped aside and looked at him. Not entirely sure how to proceed, he took a few hesitant steps towards the doorway, ducked down and, seeing no hostile reaction from the mare, stepped inside.

Inside there was a huge chamber. It looked like it was carved out from the tree itself, each wall sporting niches filled with books. The far wall had a stairway carved along it that led somewhere up, and under the stairs was a door. There was a round table in the middle of the chamber decorated with some plants, and completing the look was a stylized depiction of the sun painted over the entire ceiling. Overall, this was the most expensive interior design Anon has ever seen.

The door closed behind him, and the lavender mare walked past, brushing over his leg in the process. She crossed the chamber and went up the stairs, pausing in the middle and giving Anon a look. He shook his head and followed after her. The stairs had no railing, so he ended up unconsciously slowing and leaning away from the edge and towards the wall while ascending.

The stairs led to another chamber, this one twice as small but much higher. A side wall opened into a third floor where he could make out a bed and a giant window, with a second stairway leading up to it carved into the opposite wall.

The mare led him towards the left side, where stood a table with a bench, stopped there and gave him another look, nickering something for the occasion. Anon hesitated for a second, until the mare raised its hoof and demonstratively put it on the bench, nickering again.

Heeding the invitation, Anon closed the distance and took a seat. The bench was too close to the floor to sit comfortably, so he had to bend his legs a bit and spread them out. Seemingly satisfied, the mare let out a snort, turned around and made its way back down.

For the first time in a while, Anon was left completely alone, free to reflect on everything that’s happened today. The questions kept piling on, prompting more and more possibilities and giving less and less answers. Was he in danger? If so, who was he in danger from? How would he get out of this danger? And by the way, what’s up with that pony’s almost human-like gestures? Was it an animal? Well, of course it was, he’d seen that for himself. Was it an alien after all? Animals can’t be that smart, and he doubted genetics research has advanced far enough to grant them such level of intelligence. That’d be a story straight out of Hollywood.

The man was roused from his stupor by the grumbling of his empty stomach. The only food he ate today was a single apple of questionable freshness, and now that the stressful situation was over the body was free to voice its displeasure at the rough treatment.

Cursing under his breath, Anon realized he’s been entirely too absorbed with long-term problems. Whatever trouble he got himself in could wait, there were more pressing issues such as lack of food and water, as well as means of communication. For that matter, he was in a house right now, as an invited guest no less, and any self-respecting house will surely have some food and water to share for hospitality’s sake.

He let his instincts take over. The ears scanned the soundscape for possible signs of a prey or a predator, the eyes wandered over the interior in search of edible objects or possible tools. The most success had the nose, which registered the smell of fresh fruit close nearby. Allowing the most important organ guide him once again, Anon took a couple of whiffs and slowly turned his head. There, on the table, sat a basket positively stuffed with food. Apples, oranges, pears, bananas, grapes – the cornucopia positively made the mouth water.

The man broke into a toothy smile. One problem down, only two to go.

The lavender mare made its way down the stairs and called for her assistant. The basement door opened, and a young drake came out, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He was a growing dragon, so sleeping most of the day was entirely natural, but when the duty called, he always answered.

The mare spent the next few minutes going over her experiences from today. The drake listened attentively, only occasionally interrupting for clarification, and once the story came to an end tilted his head and mulled over it in silence. There was much to mull over, and he would be a lousy assistant if he did not give his best analysis of the situation, but at the same time there were far too many inconsistencies and unknowns for him to form a concrete opinion.

A few minutes later, and he informed his sister of exactly that. She titled her head in response, and let out some whinnies. Then the duo quietly turned and ascended the stairs.

Taking a peek, they saw the creature in question. It was letting out weird noises, making strange gestures with its extremities and assaulting the fruit basket that was accidentally left on the table. A double head tilt later, the pony and her assistant retreated back downstairs.

The mare let out a nicker. The drake let out a grunt. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper from a shelf and grabbed a quill. As the mare let out a string of horse noises, he took care to capture them in written form, his hand deftly sliding over the sheet and putting down dashes, triangles, circles and other symbols.

Once she was done, the drake rolled up the paper, inhaled and spewed out a torrent of flames that incinerated the letter. The cloud of ashes took on a yellowish glow, rose upwards and immediately flew off through the open window towards the distant recipient.

Chapter 6

Licking orange juice off of his fingers, Anon considered his next move. With food and shelter secured, the next immediate need was a source of fresh water. Not because he felt particularly thirsty after the sudden feast, but rather so he could wash off the sugary stickiness reaching up to the elbows.

There was nothing that constituted as source of water in the area, so his best bet was exploring the first floor. Untangling himself from underneath the awkwardly low table took a bit, and once Anon rose up and stretched his legs he made his way back downstairs.

After clearing the ceiling, he came to a particularly strange sight. There, near the chamber exit, stood the pony who led him here, and it was chatting with a weird lizard creature somewhat resembling a chubby velociraptor that stood on its back legs, had purple scales and green fins on its head, spine and tail.

Startled by the scene, Anon missed a step and let out a curse once his foot failed to connect with solid matter. Stumbling the rest of the way down and shoulder-checking the wall at the end, he hissed in pain and glanced back at the creatures. The ruckus attracted their attention, so both the pony and the lizard ceased whatever they were doing and now were silently watching him. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Anon pushed off of the wall, leaving an off-color palm print on the wood, and set off towards the door underneath the stairway. The two kept watching him like hawks, and feeling the silence get a bit awkward, Anon tried to break the ice.

“Uh, don’t mind me. I’m just… looking for a bathroom.”

The creatures blinked, tilted their heads, and then the lizard turned back to the pony and let out a grunt. Anon, sensing the spaghetti vacating his pockets at an alarming rate, dashed towards the door, grabbed the knob which was positioned way too low for his comfort, pulled the door open, ducked and stepped inside.

What met him was a small and surprisingly mundane kitchen. The opposite wall was occupied by a giant window which let in the sunshine falling on the table underneath. In the left corner there was a staircase leading down to the basement flanked by an old-looking fridge, and to the right there was another door adjacent to a countertop which contained a kitchen sink and a modern electric stove with a cooker hood over it.

Anon made his way towards the sink. It was a bit too low for his comfort, so he had to bend a bit before turning on the faucet, grabbing a nearby bar of soap and scrubbing his arms clean. He then bent even further and washed his face, opportunistically took a few gulps of the tap water, turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel conveniently hanging nearby.

Drying off his face and arms, Anon considered what to do next. In order to get back home, if he could, he would first have to figure out where he ended up. So, it’s either going outside and looking for road signs and address plates, rooting through the house for clues or getting his smartphone charged and utilizing the inbuilt GPS. The first option was out: there was definitely something off with the outside world, including a total lack of roads which are the usual requirement for the road signs to appear. The second option was also out: whoever the owner was, they’re unlikely to appreciate him rummaging through their stuff. So, charging the smartphone it is.

Feeling sufficiently dry, Anon hung the towel back up and turned around only to see both creatures standing in the doorway and watching him with strange expressions on their faces.

“What, never seen a man wash?”

The stares continued. Potential aliens or not, it was starting to get on his nerves. Walking towards the doorway and stopping in front of the two, Anon raised his arms and made a shooing motion.

“Come on, shoo. Nothing to see here.”

No reaction. Feeling out of options, Anon decided to risk it and try the same tactic he used to use with the parents’ dog when it was too nosy. He raised his hand, which caused both creature’s attention to immediately snap to it. They followed with their gazes as he slowly moved his hand towards the mare’s face and after a moment of hesitation placed it on the pony’s muzzle, which made her eyes cross and widen as she tried to focus on it. The fur was soft as silk and pleasantly warm, which took Anon by surprise, so he had to momentarily collect his thoughts before proceeding with the plan. With a gentle but steady push, he moved the mare’s muzzle to the side, only by a few inches at first, then by a foot, then by two, until the mare had to take a few steps back to regain her footing.

Satisfied with his work, Anon turned away from the mare who kept the crossed-eye look and then went back into the kitchen in search of a power outlet and a USB charger. The former was bound to show up in a kitchen, and as far as he was concerned people often leave their chargers in easily accessible places, so the latter might be found there too.

Unexpectedly, the entire kitchen had no outlets. Anon checked the oven, the cooker hood, the fridge – whatever wiring they used seemed to have been masterfully hidden in walls somehow. Which on the second thought was not that surprising considering the quality of interior design so far. The only exception was the fridge that looked a couple decades older than everything else in there, but that could’ve been the owner’s eccentric taste. Or they simply employed a servant and never had to see the kitchen for themselves.

Undeterred, Anon decided to look back in the main chamber and upstairs. Walking out of the doorway and past the mare who was busy snorting and pawing at her muzzle with her foreleg, he entered the room and examined it. The table in the center had a few vases with flowers on it, the coat rack near the entrance had a single yellow raincoat, a nearby dresser had a sunhat resting on it. And books, books everywhere. Every wall had entire bookcases carved in them, each niche filled to the top with books. Curiously, there were no knick-knacks and, more importantly, no power outlets.

The second floor was similar: only books, the table with the remains of his dinner and immaculate cleanness everywhere else. Anon was about to ascend further, to what he assumed was the bedroom floor, but then the pony trotted from behind him, stopped at the stairway leading up, turned to him, scrunched its face, plopped its hindquarters down on the stairs and snorted.

“Oh. I’m not supposed to go up there, I take it?”

The pony just snorted again. That must’ve been a confirmation. Feeling somewhat indignant at being denied his current course of action by a tiny colored horse of all things, Anon put his hands on his sides and leaned forward a bit, looming over the thing, causing its ears to flatten backwards.

“Well, won’t you perhaps know where I can get my phone charged?”

The pony just kept still, silently looking at him. A few seconds later, it seemed to relax, its ears standing at attention, and then it just tilted its head and let out a nicker.

“My phone. You know, this thing.”

He put his hand in the pocket and fished out his smartphone, showing the dead piece of electronics to the pony and shaking it a couple times for the good measure.

“My. Phone. Where can I get it charged?”

The creature seemed to have lost all signs of fear at that point. Eyes wide and focused on the black rectangle, it slowly stood back to the four legs and took a hesitant step forward, craning its neck towards the smartphone and sniffing at the thing. Amused by the sudden reaction, Anon waved his hand around, only for the mare to match his movements to a tee, tracking the smartphone with her snout with an uncanny precision.

“Oh, you like it? Well, check this out!”

Shuffling his fingers for a bit, Anon found the power button and pressed it. The screen lit up, showing the familiar frowny face with an empty battery. The mare’s eyes widened further, and Anon felt some unseen force rip the smartphone out of his grip.

Chapter 7

The human dumbly watched as the smartphone hang in the air. There was no support, yet it wasn’t falling. There was a pony snout sniffing around and poking itself at the screen, yet the smartphone did not even sway. It was like a freeze frame, but in three dimensions and right there, in front of his very own eyes.

Just to be sure, Anon stretch out his hand and waved it over the smartphone. There were no strings he could feel. He waved it underneath, but felt nothing once again. He waved it around, and there was no reaction, until he accidentally poked his fingers into the snout of the mare who was occupied with an examination of her own.

And just like that, the spell was broken. The smartphone unfroze and plummeted down, and Anon reflexively reached out and grabbed it mid-air, only belatedly realizing his body was tensed and ready for action the entire time.

Hands suddenly trembling and sweaty, Anon quickly pocketed the smartphone and glanced back at the mare. She was once again snorting and shaking her head, but otherwise gave no reaction at what just happened. Actually, he himself was unsure of what exactly happened just now, or whether it even did happen. One moment he was showing the creature his phone, and the next moment it was yanked out of his hand, and then it was hanging in the air, defying gravity and common sense, being scrutinized by the creature. Did… did the pony cause this? It was too much of a coincidence. It’s the only living thing in the area, it either caused whatever this was or at least triggered it.

Speaking of the pony, it stopped with the snorting and was currently closing in on him, taking careful steps, sniffing at the air with its nose and looking all over his pants. Anon reflexively took a step back, but then froze as he realized it’d be better not to make sudden movements around a creature with unknown capabilities.

The mare showed no reaction though. She just kept her focus on his pants, sniffing at the air and taking small steps forward. Two feet. One foot. Six inches. Three. One. The snout bumped into his crotch. Anon suddenly realized he hadn’t showered for two days straight. As if to confirm his thoughts, the mare recoiled with a snort, took a step to the side and brought her snout close again, this time near the pocket where the smartphone was. Then she halted.

A feeling of sudden movement in his pants was all it took for the human to spring back with a curse and assume a half-squatting position, one hand raised in preparation for defense from the creature and the other tightly clamped down on the pocket. However, the feeling stopped the moment he jumped, and the pony remained in place, not doing anything suspicious and simply staring at him. He stared back.

The stalemate lasted for what felt like a minute, until the mare suddenly turned around with a snort and trotted up the stairs and out of sight, leaving Anon alone on the floor. He kept staring upwards, cautiously waiting for the creature to reemerge. Another minute passed, and he was startled by a knocking sound from below.

Almost immediately the mare came back into view above and went down the stairs. After she descended, she gave him only a passing glance before taking a sharp turn and trotting towards the stairway to the first floor. As she went by, Anon could only stare, stupefied, as the pony was followed by a flying sheet of paper and a quill, the latter gliding over the surface of the sheet and leaving long, precise strokes behind. The pony reached the stairway, turned and trotted downwards, going out of sight, the flying items lagging behind only by a second as they neatly skirted the corner and disappeared down the stairs as well.

With the potential danger gone, or at least not immediately present, Anon let himself relax. His mind immediately latched on the fact that the pony definitely had something to do with the flying items, and it was safe to assume it was responsible for the display with the phone earlier. How did it do this, though? Magnets? There is no iron in paper, or at least not in any meaningful amount for the magnets to work – he knew that much. Illusion? No, he confirmed for himself there were no strings attached, in literal sense. Although, the smartphone fell down once he bumped his hand on the pony’s nose. Could the mare have kept it afloat with its snout somehow? Some kind of thin rod he missed? It would have to be sturdy, yet thin or transparent, and Anon did not know of any material that fit the bill for such rod. Besides, no way the mare could’ve kept it that steady while shuffling around, and no way she could’ve kept both quill and paper at such a far distance, let alone have the quill actually write in the process. Unless she didn’t use the rod that time, and actually hanged them from some strings hidden around the room, which moved accordingly to make it seem like the items were flying!

Anon took a careful look over the ceiling, floor and walls. There were no strings, rods, magnets, miniature air jets or mirrors in sight. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything besides the books.

Shaking his head, Anon made his way back towards the table and took a seat on the bench, carefully folding his legs underneath the low seat. There was a surprising amount of low furniture now that he paid attention to it, he constantly had to duck down or bend over, almost as if the house was designed with dwarfs in mind. Or children.

Or ponies.

The last thought came out of nowhere and almost physically struck him. What if the house was build for ponies? It would explain why the mare could’ve led him here – it could be her house, after all.

There was some commotion happening downstairs, but Anon paid it no attention, feeling self-conscious as his mind replayed some of the interactions he had with the pony. She invited him inside, led him to the second floor and offered a seat on this very bench, before leaving him all to himself. In turn, Anon ate all her food, left a stain on a wall downstairs, shoved her aside face-first like a dog, and finally taunted her with his smartphone.

He was shown hospitality, and instead of being grateful he acted like a real asshole.

But that’s not a huge issue, right? Animals usually don’t judge, or hold a grudge, and are easy to appease. Well, usually is the keyword here: he’d heard various stories over the years from his friends and coworkers. Besides, why should he care if some pony gets upset at him?

The thought startled him. The answer was plain as day: because the pony had voodoo powers.

Yes, try as he might, Anon could not explain to himself what he saw. What he felt, and why he didn’t feel anything he should have. The pony was somehow able to levitate items around itself, in clear defiance of laws of physics.

That fact itself led to a whole slew of other unpleasant questions. Could similar effect be directed at him? What would happen then? Did that really happen, or was this a hallucination after all? A repeating hallucination sounds unlikely, but what about a coma? There were stories about people dreaming up entire lives while in coma, but Anon always considered them an urban legend. And if it was a dream, he surely would’ve woken up by now. But since it’s real, then how could an animal possess such abilities? What other abilities it could possess?

The sound of heavy clopping nearby put breaks on the mental train before it could wreck. Anon tore his gaze from the floor and saw a creature emerging from the stairwell. It was a much bigger pony with pinkish white coat and a huge, at least 2 feet long, horn. Its mane and tail trailed through the air behind, locks of pink, blue and cyan intertwining as they kept floating on some unseen wind. The pony was decked out in golden peytral with a huge amethyst in the center, matching tiara with a similar gem and a full set of golden horseshoes. The cherry on the cake was a pair of folded white wings resting on its sides.

Or, was Anon’s last thought, they are not animals after all.

Chapter 8

As the white pony measuredly walked towards the middle of the room, looking him straight in the eyes, Anon couldn’t help but unconsciously rise up from his seat in apprehension.

While the ponies he saw so far were strange and possessed unexplainable powers, they were barely chest-high fluffy things that, admittedly, looked pretty harmless. This one, on the other hand, was quite intimidating. Not only was it noticeably larger, closer to a horse in height, it was also decked out in some impressive jewelry and possessed a thin and extremely sharp horn. Two and a half feet long, the elegant bone protrusion stood proudly right in the center of the forehead and promised a swift and gory end to anyone who would find themselves on the wrong end. It was a stark contrast to the horn of the lavender mare, who emerged from the stairway afterwards, her horn barely a foot long, rounded at the end and covered with same lavender fuzz as her coat.

Anon did not dare to look away or blink as the white creature slowly approached and stopped mere five feet away, its horseshoe-clad hooves coming to the final stop with a loud click that echoed through the room. Its magenta eyes were rapidly studying his form, scanning over his face, then his arms, then his legs, making him feel defenseless and somewhat naked under the scrutiny. Taking advantage of the pause, the lavender mare came to the front and launched into a long tirade of snorts and nickers, occasionally glancing at the big pony, then at Anon, then at the big pony again.

Seeing no hostilities so far, the human tried to guess what was happening, only to come to a conclusion that the newcomer was most likely somehow important. A tribe leader? Could ponies even have tribes? Well, no, they had their herds, but alien ponies sure could. Was it from law enforcement? That gave him a pause. Law enforcement could spell trouble, especially since he wouldn’t even be able to guess what kind of law he could’ve broken, let alone what this law enforcement pony could want from him. That would explain the sharp horn and honed movements though. But not the size… Maybe it’s an adult? Or a male of the species? What if it was a mate or a parent of the small one, who was actually tattling on him right now?

The last thought gave him a chill. He knew how animals could act when their offspring is threatened, and it wasn’t much different when it comes for humans. His eyes involuntary drifted up, to the sharp tip. If the small one was upset and it was tattling, Anon could easily gain extra holes in near future.

Forcing his gaze away, Anon began discreetly looking for exits. The only one was coincidentally, or perhaps not, blocked by the white creature. There were no windows on this floor. There was a window on the bedroom floor, but he would have to ascend the stairs first, and the creature could easily catch up and skewer him in the process. And that’s not counting in whatever levitation power they have. Anon was, for all intents and purposes, trapped.

Sudden silence brought his attention back to reality. The lavender pony has finished whatever it was saying, and the two were now intently looking him in the eyes. A few seconds later, the white one opened its mouth and let out a nicker. Then it just stood there, silent, keeping the look and seemingly waiting for him to react. Anon swallowed in an attempt to moisten his unexpectedly dry throat, then croaked out:

“Uh, sorry, I don’t understand you. But, uhm, I’m terribly sorry for my behavior so far.”

The white pony waited for two long seconds that felt to him like entire minutes, then opened its mouth again, let out a few birdlike chirps, and went silent once again. The human briefly wondered how did it manage such sound, but then recalled the wings, and decided not to dwell on it. Theorizing could wait until after he’s out of the bind.

“Sorry, still don’t understand you.”

The pony gave little reaction this time. Its gaze began to slowly wander up and down his form, but otherwise it just kept the stone-faced look. Somewhat unnerved for the hundredth time this day, Anon decided to take the initiative.

“Uh, sprehen the Dautch?”

The creature immediately snapped its eyes back to his, but otherwise kept silent. Anon tried again.

“Habla espaniol?”

No reaction.

“Parlo Italiano? Ni hao? Govorit ruski?”

No response. Anon suspected he butchered some of the phrases, and was about to repeat, only to be interrupted by a familiar movement in his pocket. His hand moved down to still it, but he was too slow.

The smartphone slinked out of the pocket and, guided by an unseen force, slowly rose into the air and halted about halfway between his startled face and the white creature’s impassive one. Unlike the last time, it began to slowly spin in the air, presenting first the screen, then the sides, then the charging port to the big pony’s studying gaze. Once it reached the back panel, the rotation stopped.

Nothing was happening for a few seconds, then Anon began to hear a quiet hum. Turning his head around, the human tried to locate the source of the sound that was seemingly coming out of everywhere. The hum grew louder, resembling the one of a working microwave oven or perhaps one of a high voltage transformer, then the smartphone let out a few clicks, which quickly grabbed Anon’s attention. He could only stare in astonishment as the display suddenly lit up with green color, then slowly faded to blue, then gray, then broke up into a patchwork of colors that flickered and waved as if it was an old CRT monitor presented with a magnet.

Anon didn’t know much about smartphones, but he knew they were not supposed to do that. He quickly reached out with his hand to grab the device, only to recoil and hiss in pain as the surface turned out searing hot to the touch. Nursing his hand, the human could only watch in horror as the light show continued for a short time, then the display abruptly went dark, and the smartphone let out a loud hiss.

Then it unfroze and plummeted down, leaving trails of white smoke behind, fell flat on the floor with a thud and a second later burst into flames.

The two ponies watched in curiosity as the strange creature fretted around the small fire, alternating between trying to stomp on it, touching its head with its upper limbs and letting out incoherent sounds.

The small mare tilted its head to the side in confusion, let out an inquisitive snort and looked at the big one, only to receive a succinct nicker that did not make much sense. Then the white mare briefly lit up her horn, and the flames were abruptly snuffed out, which immediately pacified the creature. It stopped for a moment, looked at the ponies, then contracted its legs, losing half its height, raised one of the upper limbs and started poking the charred remains with one of the flexible extensions on the limb’s end.

The creature was an enigma to the white mare. It displayed extremely complex behavior, one resembling a truly sapient being, yet she has never seen such species in her long life. There was a possibility it belonged to some civilization, so it’d be paramount to find out more about it and its origins, as well as potential dangers it could pose by itself or in groups. Unfortunately, the creature did not exhibit an ability to communicate, which would make such research difficult, but the more invasive methods could prove fatal while not yielding desired information.

Conveniently, there was a certain mare nearby with a knack for thinking out of the box. Perhaps she would be able to come up with something. Worst case, she could just observe and catalogue as much information on it as she could, which would be beneficial all by itself.

Course of action decided, the white mare turned to the small one and began her speech. She described the new mission, the desired goals, defined some restrictions and provided a few suggestions. Receiving a confirmation, she took a last glance at the creature which was busy examining the small extremities on one of its upper limbs, then calmly turned around, her horseshoes letting out a loud click, and strode out of the room at a measured pace, then down the stairs and out of the building.

Chapter 9

Anon stood in place, nursing his hand and shivering slightly. The intimidating mare, whoever she was, has left, but not before turning his smartphone – the only means of communication – into a charred piece of plastic. His right hand ached, the seared spots on the skin began turning an angry red. Most annoying was the lavender mare who has seemingly forgot about his existence and was energetically poking her snout into the cooling remains, occasionally taking a whiff of the noxious fumes and recoiling with a snort.

Cursing under his breath, Anon left the scene and went down the stairs, where he saw the lizard creature from before shelving some books. Paying it no mind the human entered the kitchen, moved to the sink, turned on the tap and shoved his hand under the stream.

The cool water soothed the pain somewhat, the phantom burning sensation subsiding to an unpleasant tingle. Relishing the feeling, Anon let his mind wander back to what has just happened. For starters, who was that mare? She came in like she owed the place, yet left almost immediately. It seemed like she tried to talk to him, but the sounds she produced were unlike any language Anon has ever heard. Not that he heard many: his foreign language knowledge was limited to a collection of random phrases he found on the internet and a bit of Spanish. Not much, but enough to tell a cabrón to vete a la mierda.

But setting aside the language problem, why did she fry his phone? Did it react to her power somehow? Seems unlikely: it was fine at first, and nothing like that has happened earlier when the lavender mare did the same.

Was it a warning? Behave, or else? Well, unlike any verbal warning, this one required no translation and certainly carried the point across. Could it do the same to him? Just… microwave his insides, or whatever that was?

His hands started shaking, his breaths coming in short and irregular. What if she knew what a smartphone was? What if she deliberately destroyed it, to prevent him from attempting communication with the outside world? Perhaps this place was a secret, one he could not tell anyone about. But then, why keep him alive?

But what if they wanted him alive? What if his presence in this alien town was not a coincidence, but a direct result of some insidious planning? But there’s no way they could’ve guessed he would decide to take a walk through the park that day, or even find the right way through the forest. Unless… these weren’t his decision, and the necessary thoughts were somehow suggested to him.

Anon felt lightheaded. His mind was abuzz with questions and possibilities, the thoughts spinning in circles and looping back into each other, suggesting darker and darker explanations that made less and less sense. At one point, his vision began to go black. Overwhelmed, the human took in a deep breath and let out a roar.

“Rrraaaargh!”

It helped. For a moment, he could think somewhat clearly.

There was a loud thump from the main chamber, and a few seconds later the lizard creature poked its head through the doorway. It took a cautious look around, then watched for a few seconds as the human motionlessly stood bent over the sink, his hands and head shoved under the cold water, then promptly tilted its head and disappeared out of sight.

Fifteen minutes later Anon was half-sitting on the counter, drying his head off with the towel. He calmed down considerably, the panic replaced with the feeling of emptiness and a strong desire to get back home as soon as possible, lock himself in for a few days and forget about this ordeal altogether.

Unfortunately, proceeding with the original plan of using GPS was impossible with the destruction of the smartphone. He was not about to risk rooting through the house and further upsetting the white pony, so there was only one option left: going outside, finding a road out of town and following it until he happens on a car or a proper human settlement. Hopefully his presence here was just an enormous coincidence, and he wouldn’t be barred from leaving the town. Or even this building.

He idly noted it was getting darker outside, but the kitchen remained well-lit despite the lack a ceiling lamp. A quick look over the room revealed there was a light switch near the entrance, but he couldn’t see where the light was coming from. Another neat trick of the interior.

Crumpling the towel and leaving it in a wet pile near the sink, Anon pushed off of the counter and took a couple unsteady steps. A thought crossed his mind to root through the fridge and find something for the trip ahead, but the resurfaced memory of tortured smartphone immediately quelled the hunger. It was better if he left as soon as possible and put on as much distance from this place as he could, and agitating the locals even further wouldn’t help. Besides, finding his way once the darkness settled in would be next to impossible.

Walking out of the kitchen, Anon was relieved to find the main chamber empty. Whether he was allowed to leave or not did not matter if he could do it quickly and quietly.

Keeping an eye on the stairway, Anon carefully made his way towards the exit door. The floor was made from a solid piece of wood, so it did not creak under his weight, and by taking it slow he could keep each step soft and silent. He reached the door with no issues and grabbed the knob, giving it an experimental twist. The mechanism let out a click, and with a gentle push the door swung open. Not believing his luck, Anon gave a last glance at the staircase, and finding it empty ducked down and went through the doorway, slowly closing the door behind.

The outside did not change over the last few hours. There were still the same rural houses with thatched roofs, neat lawns and no markings, but the locals have vacated the streets. He stepped from the porch and onto the trampled ground and had a look around. There were no discernible roads, road signs and any other landmarks except for the tree-house he just came out of.

Now that he took it all in, outwardly the town had a surprisingly medieval theme to it. Hand-carved shutters on windows, brick chimneys poking from thatched roofs. Thatched roofs, in this day and age? There’s no way that was real, there must be a metallic or a shingled slope underneath. But if it looked like a medieval town, was it built like one? He knew history enough to recall people used to settle near rivers and on trade paths. If he got back to the main square, there was bound to be a major road there. He could have entered the town through one such road, come to think of it.

With no better idea in mind, Anon turned in the direction of where he recalled the main square was and set off at a fast pace.

Twenty minutes later, he had to strain his eyes to see anything. The twilight descended much faster than he expected, and there still was no main square in sight. The houses looked eerily similar, so it was next to impossible to orient himself on the way back. There was an occasional oddball of a building like the one that looked like a carousel, and he was quite sure he would’ve remembered that one. With that, Anon realized he was completely lost.

The sun has long since hidden beneath the horizon, and the full moon was leisurely rising on the east. The air was ripe with chirping of crickets and an occasional trill of a late bird, and the grass on the lawns was gently swaying under the warm breeze. Once in a while the wind would pick up and rustle the trees, but not loud enough to drown out the soft footsteps. The quiet idyll was broken up only by an occasional barking and a distant howl coming from the far-off forest.

The human was aimlessly wandering the streets, having abandoned all pretense of following some set direction. He could only hope he would stumble on something useful, as he was sure he wouldn’t be able to return to the tree building even if he wanted. Despite the darkness, the empty streets and the unfamiliarity of the town Anon felt surprisingly at ease. Maybe it was exhaustion catching up to him, or the fresh air doing wonders for his frayed nerves, but Anon could for the moment forget about what has happened during the day. He could even forget the fact he was lost, and pretend he was just taking a stroll through some exotic town for sightseeing or relaxation.

His wanderings eventually brought him to what he suspected was a park. It was a heavily forested area fenced off with a forged palisade, the tops of the steel rods curving in on each other in floral patterns. There was an opening in the middle, beyond which laid a gravel path that led further in and featured an occasional bench. The treetops no doubt provided a pleasant shade during the day, but now they were obscuring what little light came from the moon and the stars, making it hard to see anything further in.

Anon was about to turn right and try his luck following the fence, but then his eyes adjusted and he noticed something bright in that darkness. There, some distance away, the path led to a relatively well-lit opening, and straining his eyes further Anon could even make out something rectangular. Something that looked like a billboard.

Recalling that billboards in parks often have maps and other useful info for guests, Anon decided to investigate. Even if it would be a bust, he could always backtrack and follow the fence afterwards.

It didn’t take long for him to cross the dark section and come out into the clearing. It turned out to be not just a mere clearing, but an actual lake shore, with the billboard standing on the clear strip of land between the water and the tree line. The gravel path split up and followed the shore in both directions, forming a scenic route for as long as the eye could see, with an occasional bench for sightseeing or the elderly.

Over the opposite bank, the full moon stood proudly in the skies, surrounded by a multitude of stars, and illuminated the entire land with its gentle white light. The lake was quite modest, so Anon could easily discern the forested area and some reeds across the waters. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something off over there.

He kept looking, feeling as if he was missing something, some small detail. There was nothing but trees and reeds, and however he strained his eyes they remained as is. Shrugging off the feeling, Anon turned his attention to the billboard.

The billboard turned out to be not what he expected. There wasn’t any tourist-friendly schematic or writing proclaiming what park it was or what the nearest landmarks were. Instead, the billboard featured a highly detailed topographical map of the region. It was on the shaded side of the board and done in small print, but after some eye straining he quickly found the dark blob indicating the lake and an off-color patch indicating the town.

Further examination revealed the gravel path he just followed, denoted by a thin line. One end of it met the lake, split in two and encircled it, connecting to similar thin lines on occasion. The other end met the “town” area, which was just a light blob sprinkled with dark dots and rectangles. No streets, no order, just an assortment of buildings. It made no sense, but was quite fitting, as the town itself made no sense.

Fighting off the beginnings of headache, Anon moved his gaze further. There, approximately in the center of the town, was a somewhat clear spot. That must’ve been the main square he was aiming for. A twisting line was going through the town near the square, one end meeting the lake not far from where he currently was. That definitely was a river or a stream.

There were various squiggles all over the map he couldn’t interpret, but what grabbed his attention were a few thick lines starting near the supposed town square and going outwards, through the town borders and beyond. Roads. Exactly what he was looking for.

Unfortunately, the poor lightning coupled with small print were beginning to take their toll. The longer Anon stared into the map the less he could make out, and eventually had to stop for a break. Massaging his eyes over the closed eyelids, Anon stumbled to a nearby bench and took a seat, then leaned back, opened his eyes again and relaxed them, focusing on the far objects for a change.

It was the same tranquil lake as before. There was the tree line on the far shore, and a patch of reeds. The landscape was illuminated by the full moon that cast its reflection upon the lake. The moonlight formed a glittering trail on the surface, which caught Anon’s gaze and guided it up, and up, towards the starry sky above.

The skies were particularly crisp that night. Even the ubiquitous light pollution receded, letting the smallest star or a streak of color stand out against the infinite background. The normal darkness was gone, the entire swathes of black sky were tinted with yellow, red, blue and green strands of nebulas that stretched across the firmaments, curled on themselves and merged into each other. The usual band of Milky Way was absent, and the stars seemed much closer, the white, blue and yellow sparks shining brightly and forming entirely new constellations in place of the familiar ones.

The centerpiece was the moon. With its prominent craters and marines gone it looked almost pristine, as if the ancient worn and beaten satellite was replaced by a young stellar companion. There could still be seen some off-color splotches and thin crater rims, but overall the surface was much cleaner and brighter, making the silver disc stand out on the surreal color palette that was the night sky.

Anon was startled from his trance by a soft rustling to his right. Turning his head, he saw the familiar pony standing nearby, her lavender coat almost gray in the dim light, her ever inquisitive eyes trained on him.

“How did you…”

He started, before realizing he won’t understand the reply either way. Letting out a sigh, the human just turned away, draped his arms over the back of the bench and let his gaze wander back to the alien moon high above.

“I’m not getting home anytime soon, am I?”

There was no answer. Not that he expected one.

Something scrambled onto the bench, producing a soft tremor and prompting another glance.

The pony was now sitting on her haunches next to him, her snout pointing upwards, her gaze fixed on the stars. This up close, he could see the individual strands of her blue mane falling down on her shoulders, disturbed only by an occasional gust of the wind. Her entire body was covered with the same soft lavender fuzz as the muzzle, and he noticed her eyelids were framed by long eyelashes. Her giant purple eyes were focused somewhere up and far, far away, and he could see the same moon as above reflecting in the twin orbs.

The warm breeze was picking up in strength, rustling the trees as if trying to overwhelm the deafening chirping of crickets. The gusts of wind produced small ripples over the surface of the lake, breaking up reflections from stars and nebulae and mixing the fragments into a kaleidoscope of heavenly colors. Somewhere in there, between the waves, was a reflection of Earth.

Chapter 10

Anon could feel himself lying on something hard, his naked feet sticking from under the blanket and shivering in the morning chill. He tried to pull them back in, but his legs were numb and refused to obey. He tried to reach the blanket with his arms, but those refused to move as well. Perplexed, he then attempted to lift his head, but the neck was unexpectedly stiff and heavy, making the action impossible.

After some confused introspection Anon found a group of muscles in his body that responded to his desires. An effort of will, and his eyes peeled open. There was a brown wall in front of him, and through the haze he could make out individual veins of yellow colors running up and down the organic surface. When did he switch over to wood? …right, it wasn’t his house.

Memories of the past days slowly emerged from the depths of his mind. The forest, the ponies, the town, this building. Watching the alien sky. Being guided back here by the pony. Falling dead tired on some blankets heaped on the floor.

Anon shut his eyes. He didn’t want to get up. Getting up meant leaving the safe spot he was in, however meager comfort it provided, and facing the unknown. Unknown creatures, unknown world. Unknown future. Anon had never felt this lost in his entire life, he always had either his home, his family or his friends to fall back on. But now, he could not even begin to guess how he would reach them from whatever place this was.

While the mind was busy with depressive ruminations, the body was coming back online one system at a time. Some fifteen minutes later, it was sending urgent signals up the brain stem, demanding attention on a particular matter. Groaning quietly, Anon forced his stiff arms to move and flipped himself on his back. An unpleasant tingle signaled the return of the blood flow, and once it subsided, he was able to raise his heavy hands and wipe the crust from his eyes before taking a look around.

He was lying near the wall on the second floor of the building. Looking down the blanket, he could see his naked feet peeking from underneath the far end and nearly touching the leg of the table towering above. Two feet away, under the bench, were his shoes and socks lying in a messy pile. He was too exhausted yesterday to care, and simply threw them off. Following the room with his eyes, Anon could see the countless shelves stuffed with books and the stairs leading to the bedroom floor above.

He slowly pulled his eyes “up” and met a pair of living purple orbs staring at him point blank.

“Fuck!”

He jolted on the floor from surprise. The lavender mare was lying right there, her hooves almost touching the blanket, her purple eyes staring him down from underneath the blue bangs. There was a paper sheet hovering near the floor to her left, and a quill was darting over the sheet, occasionally pausing to take a dip into an inkwell standing nearby.

With a quiet “it’s too early for this shit” Anon pushed his upper body off the ground. Ignoring the audience, he untangled himself from the sheets, shuffled towards the bench, fished out his smelly socks and sluggishly pulled them on. The latter required way too much effort as the cold feet refused to cooperate, so he had to pause for a breather before he could put on the shoes. Once that was done, he turned over to his knees, pulled a leg under himself, took a deep breath and pushed himself upwards.

Once he gained vertical orientation and used the nearby wall to stabilize himself, Anon looked around and realized he had no idea how to proceed. His eyes fell on the pony, and on impulse he tried his luck.

“Do you have a bathroom here?”

The pony just kept staring at him, her quill furiously flying all over the page and putting down various squiggles. A moment later, however, the mare tilted her head and let out a nicker.

“Figures.”

Exploring it is. It’s unlikely the bathroom would be upstairs, from what he glanced there wasn’t much space up there, but Anon recalled seeing a mysterious door down in the kitchen. He took a few seconds to bend his neck this way and that to work out the kinks, then set off towards the stairs.

A short descend was enough to get the blood pumping, and once he reached the bottom floor, Anon went at a bit more livelier pace straight into the kitchen. There he found the lizard creature standing on a stool near the counter. There was a cutting board in front of it, and the creature was busy dicing up a tomato with dexterity worthy of a chef. Once it was done, it raised the board and with a swift motion of its knife swiped the results into a bowl, then reached towards the other bowl for a cucumber. Deciding to ignore the scene, Anon turned to the door he has come for, walked straight towards it, grabbed the knob and with a twist pulled it open.

Bingo.

It definitely was a bathroom of sorts. The washbasin was easy to recognize, as well as an enormous shower stall that occupied the entirety of the far wall. However, instead of a porcelain throne he expected there was only a hole in the floor framed by a thick ceramic ring.

Anon cringed. That was not going to be fun.

Forty minutes later Anon came out and slammed the door behind, not looking forward to repeating the experience. First he had to figure out the proper posture for it to work, then he had to chase out the lavender mare that decided to poke her curious muzzle in at the most inconvenient moment. The worst part came later when he finished his business and realized there was no toilet paper…

Anon shuddered. No amounts of soap could stop him from feeling unclean.

The kitchen air was ripe with tantalizing smells. Anon briefly wondered whose idea it was to put the bathroom near where the food is prepared, but then his stomach let out a growl, and any such thoughts vacated his headspace.

There was food nearby, and he was going to get it.

Gliding behind the lizard that was busy frying something on the stove Anon approached the central table and saw beginnings of a breakfast. Two empty plates, a big bowl with salad, a big bowl with fruit, two empty glasses, a jug of opaque orange liquid with a distinctly citrus smell. Near the window there stood a vase stuffed with dozen different kinds of flowers, some of which Anon couldn’t recognize, but he paid them no further mind.

Spotting a particularly nice apple, he shot out his hand to grab it, only to be stopped by a sudden growl.

“Grrrrr…”

Anon felt goosebumps travel up his spine. He carefully turned his head towards the source of the sound. It was the lizard, its emerald eyes trained on him, the slit pupils narrowed down to thin lines.

“Grrrrrrrrr…”

Anon moved his hand away. The growling stopped. The lizard turned back to the stove, pulled up a spatula from somewhere and began to stir the contents of a frying pan.

Shaking off the stupor, Anon reached back to grab the apple.

“Grrrrrr!”

Pulling his hand away, Anon turned towards the creature.

“What? I’m literally starving here!”

The growling stopped once again, but the eyes continued to track his every movement. Anon reached out once more.

“GRRRRRR!”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Anon threw up his hands and stomped off into the far corner of the kitchen. If he could not take the food right then, he could wait for the lizard to leave and nab it afterwards.

He leaned back against a countertop and crossed his arms, putting some pressure on the stomach to quell the rising pangs of hunger. Humans were endurance predators, and Anon was a proud human. It was time to endure.

Ten minutes later Anon could barely hold himself together. Whatever was cooking smelled absolutely divine; it was tickling all the right spots in his sinuses, driving the human mad with desire. Screw waiting, it was time for action!

Luckily, any rash actions were nipped in the bud by the arrival of the lavender mare from downstairs. She leisurely trotted into the kitchen, sparing Anon only a passing glance, then went over to the table. A stool promptly moved out by itself from underneath the table and stopped just in time for the mare to hop up and land right on the seat. She shuffled her legs a bit, settled into a position not dissimilar from that of a sitting dog, then looked over at the lizard and let out a nicker.

The lizard responded with a grunt, grabbed the sizzling pan with its bare hand and hopped off. It then dragged its stool all the way to the table before hopping back on and holding the pan out over the table.

A cupboard opened underneath one of the counter tops, and out flew two small bowls followed by two forks and a spoon. The spatula rose up from where it was left near the oven and joined the other items as they neared the table. The bowls approached the big salad bowl, and the spoon darted in and began filling them with the diced vegetables. Meanwhile the spatula hovered over to the pan and began to split up the contents and divide it between the two plates. The jug with the juice ascended into the air and flew towards the glasses.

The entire process took up at most fifteen seconds, and in the end there were two servings of excellent breakfast sitting on the table. Powers or not, it was nothing short of magic. Picking his jaw off the floor, Anon decided on a new name for the phenomena. Magic.

The lizard grabbed its bowl in one hand, its fork in another and began to deftly work its tiny claws to shovel the contents into the widely open mouth. Meanwhile, the mare’s fork took flight, speared a small yellowish chunk from the plate and brought it up to her muzzle, where the mare took a dainty bite and began to chew slowly.

With how fascinating the display was, Anon only belatedly realized one crucial detail: he has been left out. Suppressing a spike of anger, he pushed himself off from the countertop and approached the pair, stopping next to the table and looming over it, arms crossed.

He stood like that for a while, and caught some glances thrown his way, but otherwise the creatures were completely ignoring him.

The hunger was making Anon irritable, but, recalling yesterday’s encounter with the white mare, he took a deep breath and decided on a new approach. They can’t understand what he says, but perhaps if he asked nicely, they would understand the intonation and the message behind it?

“Excuse me, I haven’t properly eaten for almost three days. May you spare something?”

That got some reaction. The duo stopped, and raised their heads towards him. Anon doubled down.

“Please? I’m willing to work for this food, if you want me to.”

He pointed a finger to the fruit bowl for the good measure. The pair just stared at him. Then, the mare tilted her head, let out a nicker and looked at the lizard. The lizard watched him for a few long seconds, its thin slits burrowing into his soul, then let out a grunt and turned back to its food, proceeding to devour remaining salad.

Presuming he got the permission, Anon let out a sigh of relief and reached for an apple.

“Thank you. I’m sure-”

“Grrrrrr…”

His hand froze. The lizard has fixed him with its gaze and was slowly rising from its seat. Desperate, Anon pleaded again.

“Please? Just one apple?”

He closed his hand and put out the index finger, showing “one”.

“GRRRRRRRR!”

The lizard bared its teeth. It was a full set of chompers more befitting a shark. Anon felt blood freeze in his veins. He slowly pulled his hand away, and the growling subsided. He took a few steps back, and the lizard calmed down and returned to its feast, but it kept glancing his way every few seconds.

“Fuck…”

Clenching his hands to quell the slight trembling, Anon returned to his corner, crossed his arms, leaned back on the counter top and went over everything that has just happened. The lizard was clearly against sharing, and had an almost unnatural level of awareness. He could try waiting for them to leave, then search the kitchen for ingredients or leftovers, but what if the creature finds out? Even when he tried to grab the fruit behind its back, it was able to sense him.

Anon glanced back at the table. The lizard grabbed a piece of colored glass out of somewhere and took a bite out of it, then began to chew. Each time the scaly jaws met the kitchen echoed with a sickening crunch.

These teeth are not just for show. The creature was adamant on keeping him away from the food, even if the mare just ignored him for the most part. Was it some kind of guard dog? Alien lizard guard for alien pony master. Seems fitting.

If that’s the case, wouldn’t it make more sense to ask the mare instead? And how would he do it, say “please” again? It’s becoming obvious they have their own kind of language, and possibly more than one, as he hasn’t heard the lizard emit any horse-like noises, only grunts and growls. Or maybe it doesn’t even speak? Humans frequently talk to their pets, and all they get in reply are barks, meows and chirps. Maybe it’s the same here?

But then again, the lizard was cooking earlier… was that just some kind of sophisticated training? One could teach regular dogs and cats some neat tricks given time and effort, and various apes in the wild have a knack for making primitive tools out of sticks and stones, no training required. Did the lizard have to be sapient to cook?

An audible growl from the empty stomach reminded about more pressing matters. All questions regarding the creature could wait; getting back to the mare, how would he ask for food an alien being that does not understand him?

She doesn’t know English. She doesn’t take the hint. Why can’t she take the hint? It’s pretty obvious what he’s asking for. Well, to him, perhaps. These are aliens, they could be using entirely different body language. In fact, from what he saw so far, their behavior was eerily similar to that of dogs and cats. What if he tried asking like a dog, however demeaning that sounds?

Anon once again recalled his parent’s pet dog. Looking back at the last twenty minutes, he actually already tried the most common tactics: hovering nearby, getting in the way, making sad noises and reaching for the food left on the table. What next, banging his feeding bowl?

Anon took a look around the kitchen. There, next to the oven, was the section of the counter from where he saw the tableware fly out.

Narrowing his eyes, Anon walked towards it, bent down and pulled the cupboard’s door open. There were stacks of various dishes inside as well as a holder full of assorted silverware.

Grabbing a bowl and a fork for the good measure, Anon closed the door, turned towards the table, crossed the distance in three resolute steps and put the bowl down with a loud thud.

The two creatures froze, then slowly raised their heads and met his expecting gaze.

“Food, please.”

He shook the bowl with his hand, producing a loud clatter on the hard surface.

“Food. Please?”

The mare looked down at the bowl. Then at the lizard. Then let out a snort. The lizard replied with a short grunt, making the mare tilt her head and emit some snorts and nickers, only to get another grunt in return.

The back and forth continued for almost a minute. Anon began to suspect that they knew exactly what he wanted, but decided to play dumb and starve him out just for kicks. No matter, he could always go look for the food elsewhere. But where? The main square had food stalls, but those are bound to be guarded by someone. There was the apple farm, but he didn’t know the way back. He couldn’t just go and consult the map; it was through sheer luck he stumbled on it yesterday.

Wander around until he finds a familiar landmark? There was supposed to be a river going through the town. He could simply circle the entire settlement until he stumbles on it, then it’s just following the stream to the lake, taking a left turn and following the path along the shore until it takes him back to the billboard with the map. He could figure out how to get to the farm from there.

His mental planning was interrupted by sudden clatter. Looking down, he saw his bowl hovering a foot away from him, a spoon rapidly filling it with diced vegetables. Once it was done, the bowl levitated back and landed right where he had left it. Two pairs of eyes stared at him, waiting for a reaction.

Anon couldn’t help but smile. He grabbed the fork from his other hand, looked at the pair, let out a short “thank you”, speared a piece of cucumber and sent it into his mouth. The salty goodness immediately exploded into a bouquet of summer flavors, and Anon couldn’t help but let out an almost indecent moan.

He dug in with abandon, ignoring the wide stares and shoveling down the salad as fast as he could. It had too much salt, no dressing, and there were bits of some bitter herb mixed in. Still, it felt like the best salad he ever had.

Chapter 11

Anon sat in the kitchen, alone, slowly digesting his breakfast and staring off into the distance through the window. The mare has left some fifteen minutes ago, shortly after he was done eating, but not before cleaning the table with her magic. It took her merely ten seconds. The lizard hanged around to wash the dishes, but then left as well. Only Anon remained, for he had nowhere to go.

What next?

This simple, yet insidious question could not leave his mind. Indeed, what next? He had shelter. He had water. He had food, in a manner of speaking. But he had no idea how to get home.

For that matter, he had no idea where he even ended up. Or how. Or why. It was impossible to refute what he saw last night: an entirely different sky from the one he was used to. The one seen from Earth.

Was he on another planet? The air felt the same, the gravity felt the same, the sun looked the same. The moon did not. And the stars. Could he has somehow ended up on a planet that was very similar to Earth? But could such planet even exist? Well, the universe is essentially infinite, so the chances are there - it’s mostly a question of how far away such planet would be.

And how much exactly that “far away” measures up to? There were no familiar constellations, not even the band of the Milky Way could be seen. The skies were awfully colorful… was this planet inside some nebula? Nebula could be thick enough to obscure the rest of the galaxy, but in that case he wouldn’t be able to tell whether he even was inside the Milky Way, and not some other galaxy.

The unwanted thought left a pit in his stomach. There are countless galaxies out there, and if he ended up outside of his own, there was no chance to find which one is the right one, left alone which star is the Sun.

What’s worse, it didn’t even matter which planet he ended up on, or whether he was in the Milky Way. It’s not like he could do anything useful with such information, like building a rocket and flying back home; he would die of old age way before he even finishes the math required for any such project.

No, he didn’t need to know where the home was, or how far away. He only needed to know how to get there. And for that, he first needed to understand how he got here.

The answer was self-evident: ponies. If this is a different planet, then he had somehow crossed light years of distance without realizing. There was no technology on Earth for such travel: humanity couldn’t even manage a manned flight to Mars, let alone a neighboring star. The ponies, on the other hand, had telekinesis. They were able to defy gravity itself, and made it look effortless. What if they had similar magic powers that let them perform interstellar travel?

What if he was simply kidnapped, brought onboard an alien spaceship and then moved for the impossibly large distance? Like humans move cattle in trucks, but this time the human is the one who goes in the cargo hold. He ought to remember that, then, one can’t just forget a chunk of their life. Unless he was put to sleep, or otherwise rendered unconscious for the duration of the trip, but then again, he could not recall falling asleep in-between entering the park and reaching the ponies’ farm, or any abrupt changes in scenery… was his memory tampered with? Who knows what this magic is capable of. But in that case, surely there would be some signs left on his body over the… how long such trip would have taken?

Actually, Anon could estimate that one. With distance measured in light-years, and faster-than-light travel is proved as impossible, it would have taken at least years, if not centuries. He didn’t feel older, or sick, or fatigued, so either he hadn’t aged during the process, or traveled at speeds close to the speed of light where time dilation comes into play, and it would only have been a second or maybe a few hours for him.

…Did he skip years into the future? If so, how many? Ten? Fifty? A century? Could he get back home before everything he knew turns to dust? Was there even anything left to return to?

Despite the horrific possibility, that scenario made little sense. If one-way travel took centuries or millennia, it would require that the kidnappers were either immortal or extremely dedicated to their cause. Sending out a spaceship in hopes that your grand-grand-grand kids would see the results? That’s insane. But then again, these are aliens, no telling what goes on in their heads.

What if they found some way to circumvent the wait? There are still many blank spots when it comes to our understanding of the universe; the ponies could have discovered some effect that lets them travel faster than light and not violate causality. Want to travel to Mars? Two seconds, and you’re there. Another star? Five-minute ride. Round trip to the next galaxy a few million light-years away to pick up a lone human? Sure, will get back before dinner.

Anon chuckled to himself. This was getting ridiculous; he was building convoluted theories based on a single piece of evidence. For all he knew, the sky was not a real sky, but a huge concrete dome covered with LCD screens, the sun was a giant light bulb placed up there to look close enough to the real thing, and he was a clone of himself living as a test subject on some alien spaceship.

But he was neither a kid, nor was he on an island, and more importantly, the aliens did not try to hide. What did they want from him then? His body? They wouldn’t need to transport him back to their planet in conscious state, let alone let him wander there. A single tranquilizer dart, or a minute application of magic to erase his mind, and there it was, a prime human body all nice and ready for dissection. Much easier to transport than live and resisting specimen.

Were they researching his behavior, and dropping him off in the wilderness was their esoteric way of doing so? He could imagine: “hey, fellow pony, wouldn’t it be great if we grabbed one of those monkeys from that one planet and let it run free? Surely it would be amusing to watch, it makes funny noises!”

That thought erased all the fake amusement he tried to cheer himself up with. Despite how absurd the idea was, there was a possibility he was nothing more than entertainment for some wealthy alien elite. One he may have met yesterday.

Anon shook his head. He was thinking way too much as of late, and the more thinking he did the less he understood. Ergo, he had to stop thinking and do something useful. He wanted to know how he got there? Well, he ought to go and shake the answer out of the culprits themselves. Metaphorically speaking, of course. He wouldn’t want to get microwaved.

With the newfound purpose in mind Anon rose from the table and walked towards the stairwell going down to the basement. Last time he saw the pony she went downstairs, so that’s where he would find her. A short descend brought him to a wooden door, and Anon wasted no time pushing it open.

The basement was a large room filled with random clutter. Over in the corner there were book of every shape and color piled into towers that leaned precariously towards each other. Next to them were two dozen identical cardboard boxes stacked into a neat wall. Then there was assorted furniture covered by old cloth and left for a better time: Anon could make out the vague outlines of tables, chairs, a dresser, a full-length mirror and even a grand piano. Next to that stood an empty fish tank.

The other side of the room was occupied by a huge writing desk. It was covered with, in no particular order: papers, inkwells, writing feathers, shards of colorful rocks, flasks filled with opaque green liquid, bits of copper wire and other metal scrap. Amidst the chaos stood a lonely test tube rack that held a couple empty test tubes. Next to the desk was a metal table with a tool rack mounted to the side and a lamp hanging from above. On the table there was a number of contraptions, one that looked like a microscope, one that resembled a blender and one that… was that a coffee machine?

His target was also there. The mare stood near the table, facing away from him, and was staring intently at something on the metal surface. Anon couldn’t see what it was, as the pony was obstructing the view, but she was completely absorbed by her activity, her tail swishing from side to side. There was an item resembling a tiny drill silently hovering near her, with the cord trailing through the air and ending at the tool rack.

Walking across the room towards the mare and keeping a careful eye on the drill, Anon realized it was the first time he’d seen ponies use advanced technology in plain view. They had fridges and light switches and stoves, but their wiring and lightning were always hidden in some ways, both inside the house and outside in town, and the houses themselves were made to resemble ones built by people a century or perhaps two ago. But they must’ve considered the basement to be far enough from the public eye to not bother with concealment.

As he approached the mare from the side, he could finally see what held her attention. There, in the middle of the table, was a hole of absolute nothingness. Perfect blackness, so deep and spotless it was inadvertently drawing the gaze in, inviting one to lose themselves in the infinite and triggering every alarm bell in the subconscious.

After a few attempts to look away failed, Anon had to close his eyes and take a shuddering breath. The mare didn’t seem to be bothered by the hole, so it was most likely harmless, at least as long as he didn’t poke it. He tried slowly opening his eyes and peeking at the thing, but even that was enough to make him dizzy and prompt a grunt.

The mare’s ear twitched, then she blinked, then the hole disappeared with a quiet pop. Her tail went still, as did the rest of her body, and she turned her head to the human, who was massaging his eyes and blinking rapidly in an attempt to shake off the afterimage.

It took Anon a few seconds to notice he became the new center of attention. That played nicely into his goal, as he could now ask his questions and get some answers. He opened his mouth… and realized he had no idea what to say. Or, rather, how. His mind kicked into overdrive trying to find the right words or correct gestures to express what he wanted to say, but it all was rather simplistic. He was never good at pantomimes, and was drawing a complete blank when it came to high-level expressions such as “why was I brought here” or “how to return back”. It didn’t help that he was dealing with a pony, and there was no guessing what gestures the ponies use for even the basic concepts such as “here” or “there” or “I”.

As the human did his best impression of a goldfish, the mare let out a snort and floated the drill back to the tool rack, then glanced at the table. With the hole of nothingness gone, the surface of the table was revealed as a regular if somewhat scratched sheet of metal, with a glowing blue circular mark in the center that roughly resembled dimensions of the hole. The mark was rapidly fading away, and right in the middle of it laid an item that Anon, to his chagrin, recognized. His smartphone – or, rather, what was left of it.

The charred piece of plastic and glass shuddered, then slowly rose into the air, held by an invisible force, and floated between the frowning human and the pony, who gave him a strange look. Anon took a hard look at the thing, then addressed the mare, making sure to let in as much annoyance in his intonation as he could.

“Yes, it’s broken, your white friend made sure of that.”

The mare blinked, then let out a neigh. The smartphone floated closer to Anon’s face, close enough the acrid stench of burnt plastic invaded his sinuses, and then shook a bit in the air, as if trying to accentuate the extent of the damage, which only served to further piss off the human.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Thoroughly peeved at the pony and realizing he would get no answers from her, Anon did the only thing he could think of at the time. He turned around and marched back to the door.

The pony didn’t try to stop him as he pulled the knob and rushed up the stairs. He quickly emerged into the kitchen, went to the main hall, crossed it and came through the door to the outside. Finally alone, Anon let out a few choice words regarding aliens, ponies, magic and language barriers, then found a particularly thick patch of grass, sat down on it and began contemplating his next move.

Author's Note

Welp, IRL made itself known, so the plan to post a chapter per week went down the drain.
At least things seem to have stabilized, so story's not dead.

Chapter 12

Anon twirled a blade of grass in his fingers as he thought back to the encounter. Perhaps he was a bit hasty storming off like that. True, he was extremely upset over the broken phone, and it was downright insulting for the pony to rub it in like that, but he had to keep in mind that for the moment, the ponies were his only lead to figuring out what had happened to him. He had to deal with them if he wanted to ever get back home, and so he had to tolerate their behavior, however rude, inconsiderate or degrading it was.

He also had been woefully underprepared for his self-imposed task of getting answers. Namely, he had failed to even ask the questions. Language barrier or not, the ponies were capable of communication, at least between themselves and whatever that lizard creature was. And if they could communicate, they could answer Anon’s questions – he just had to come up with a proper communication strategy first.

What if he started with the basics? Back in school, on the first lesson of Spanish the teacher had them introduce themselves in both English and Spanish. What if he tried something similar with the pony? He would introduce himself, then ask for her name, accompanying it all with exaggerated hand gestures. She wasn’t a human, but maybe she’d understand? Some of her gestures and actions had been surprisingly human-like. It would’ve helped if she had actual hands though, and perhaps it would've been wiser to try and approach the lizard creature instead as it had similar appendages, but after the last encounter Anon still felt a little queasy about the creature, so he wasn’t about to approach it while he had a better alternative.

What else could he try? Usually when he went to a place where people didn’t speak English, he’d just whip out his phone, type the phrase into the translator and have it speak out loud the translated sentence. With the phone gone for good, that was no longer an option. Could he try mimicking her sounds? It was unlikely to work, as he would have no idea what he would be saying, but it was worth a try. Maybe the mare would help him there, once she understood what he was trying to do.

Anything more complex would probably have to wait. Baby steps, after all. First they’d introduce themselves, then they’d figure out most necessary words and phrases like “food” or “water” or “I want to eat”, and then it’d be clear how to proceed from there. Overall, not the greatest plan, but better then nothing.

Anon threw away the crumpled blade of grass he’s been holding, rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the green stains and got up from the grass. Time for attempt number two.

He found the mare right where he had left her – in the basement. This time, she was standing near the desk and peering intently at a glass flask that was filled by two thirds with some yellow solution. Her ear twitched as Anon closed the door behind himself, but she didn’t react otherwise as he approached and stopped beside her.

This close, Anon could make out a lot of details regarding the knick-knacks cluttering the desk. What he thought before as bits of colorful rocks were actually semi-transparent crystals. They ranged from tiny shards barely an inch long to fist-sized clusters, and rather unexpectedly each and every one had unnaturally deep, even coloring and no usual imperfections such as chips or fractures. Overall, they had an artificial look to them, like something you would see as a reward in mobile game rather than from behind a glass pane in a geology exhibit.

But more startlingly, the desk was covered in papers that actually had something written on them. Despite the fact Anon had seen the mare use magic to levitate and move quills over papers, he didn’t realize until that very moment that she had been actually writing with them. It also dawned on him that the entire house was filled with books, so of course the ponies were capable of writing, and by extension reading, and it was silly to consider otherwise since they’ve built themselves such an advanced civilization.

On one sheet, he could spot a paragraph of text and a table, and there was what looked like a flowchart on another, and a third one had a few schematics full of hexagons that looked suspiciously like structural formulas of organic molecules. Unfortunately, the writing itself was completely alien to him. It resembled Arabic script, but blocky and with less dots, and as much as Anon stared he couldn’t recall seeing a language quite like that before.

It was then that the mare turned away from the flask she’s been watching and glanced at the desk. A quill suddenly rose into the air, dipped itself into an inkwell, then flew to the papers and touched down at the one that had a table on it. It left a short squiggle in a blank cell, then hopped back into the air, flew back to the same spot it started from and laid down to rest, as if it had never moved. Done with the task, the mare looked at Anon.

Put on the spot, Anon fumbled for a second before collecting his wits and raising his right hand. It was a bit late for introductions, come to think of it, but better late than never.

“Hello. I am Anonymous.”

He tapped his chest with his index finger for emphasis. The gesture captured the mare’s attention for some reason, and she switched to watch his hand instead and kept track of it as he extended his arm and pointed at her chest.

“What is your name?”

The pony blinked, then looked up at his face. An awkward silence ensued. Anon decided to try again. He kneeled so they would be at the eye level, moved his hand back, tapped his chest with his finger, said “Anonymous” and pointed at her. The pony blinked again, glanced between his face and his hand, then tilted her head, but nothing else. Well, third time’s the charm, right?

Anon once again tapped himself on the chest, said “Anonymous”, extended his arm and pointed closely at the mare, nearly touching her chest fluff.

The mare stood still for a second, looking down at his hand, then slowly lowered her muzzle and sniffed at it in curiosity. Then, faster than Anon could react, her tongue darted out and took an experimental lick.

The sudden feeling of warmth and wetness made Anon yank his hand back with a yelp, but he quickly caught up with what had happened and pursed his lips in annoyance. He wiped the tiny damp spot off on his pants, and resolved to try again. Fourth time the charm, then?

He brought his hand up and tapped himself on the chest, spelled out “A-no-ny-mous”, then slowly moved it towards the mare and pointed at her chest, which he mimed tapping, and asked, “What. Is. Your. Name?”

The mare watched him go over the ritual, keeping an eye on his hand, and once he was done, simply blinked and looked back at him. Anon waited with baited breath. A second passed, then another, then the mare replied.

Snort. Nicker, snort.

Anon almost shouted with joy. He had actual progress there! It wasn’t much, but she just told him her name, which is more than he had before! Now he would only have to show her he understood.

Unable to contain his smile, Anon brought his hand back, vigorously tapped his chest, said “Anonymous”, pointed at the mare and attempted his best to repeat the sounds.

“Frrr. Huh-huh-huh-huh. Frrr.”

The mare’s muzzle suddenly scrunched up. He couldn’t have butchered it that hard, could he? Anon tried again.

“Frrrr. Huh-huh-huh-huh. Frr.”

The scrunch intensified. Alarmed, Anon made another attempt, this time taking a deeper breath and trying to make the nicker part sound more guttural.

“Frrr. Huph-huph-huph-huph. Frr.”

The mare’s face relaxed. She let out a nicker, then tilted her head in apparent curiosity and silently stared at Anon. Feeling somewhat encouraged, Anon pointed at the mare once again and repeated his latest attempt.

“Frrr. Huph-huph-huph-huph. Frr.”

She gave no reaction. She must’ve considered it good enough, Anon thought, so he opted to move on and try to have her repeat his name in turn. He brought his hand back, tapped his own chest, and waited.

Nothing happened. Anon tried again. He pointed at the mare, repeated the sounds that made up her name, then pointed back at himself, and spelled out “Anonymous”. Then he again pointed at the mare, pronounced her name, pointed at himself and silently waited. It felt like a full minute before the mare straightened her neck and replied.

Snort. Nicker, snort.

Anon signed in exasperation.

“No, not your name. My name. It’s Anonymous. A-no-ny-mous. Repeat after me: Uh. No. Neee. Mos.”

He accentuated each syllable with a tap on his chest, while looking the mare deep in the eyes and wishing with all his might to impart the meaning across the language barrier and right into her brain.

Alas, his telepathy skills failed him. The mare let out a snort, turned around and walked away, leaving the human pointing at himself in solitude and wondering what went wrong in the conversation and when.

The pony didn’t walk for too far though. Stopping near the metal table that held various machines and equipment, she reared up on her hind legs and put her front legs on the table top. Then she reached with her hoof towards an apparatus that resembled a coffee machine, pushed on a small handle at the side, and with a soft click the bottom part of the machine opened up, revealing a small compartment. The mare then pushed herself off of the table and with a soft double clop landed on the floor, then turned back and trotted to Anon. As she approached, a familiar rectangular object emerged from the aforementioned compartment and trailed through the air after the mare. Anon cringed.

The pony stopped in front of him, letting the smartphone hover halfway between the two, looked him in the eyes and let out a nicker. As if sensing what was expected of him, Anon grabbed the smartphone out of the air. There had been a slight resistance which had momentarily disappeared, and he was left with the device in his hand. Thinking quickly, he brought it up and pointed at it with his free hand.

“Smartphone. Smart. Phone.”

She didn’t seem to be impressed. He shook the thing for the good measure, and that caused a reaction. The mare’s attention snapped at the device, her entire body stock still, her eyes staring unblinkingly and her ears standing straight and pointed forward. Surprised by the change, Anon almost missed how the mare took a cautious step forward without breaking her pose. He frowned.

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s broken now.”

He tried to feel up for the power button to demonstrate, but the plastic had been warped so badly he couldn’t even tell on which side the button was supposed to be. Still, she didn’t seem to react to his words, so Anon tried again.

“It’s broken. Fried. Dead. It won’t work anymore.”

To back up his words with some action, Anon let go of the smartphone. It fell down a few inches, then froze in mid-air. At the same time, the mare scrunched her muzzle. The smartphone reversed its movement, floated back up to his hand and nestled itself in his palm. Startled, Anon grasped the device and felt the same weak resistance for a split second before it disappeared. He stared owlishly at his hand, then it clicked.

“No, I can’t turn it on. It’s broken. Completely.”

He made a show of shuffling his fingers over the edges, then just held the smartphone in place. The mare waited for a full minute, her entire posture exuding attention, and right as Anon began to worry she finally seemed to have realized nothing was going to happen. Her ears splayed back, she swished her tail, shuffled her hooves, then tucked up her hind legs and settled down on her croup, all without taking her eyes off the phone.

Anon decided to capitalize on the situation. He brought up his other hand and pointed at the smartphone, and said “smartphone.” Then he pointed at the mare, who broke off from watching the smartphone to watch him instead, and pronounced her name. Then he pointed at himself and said “Anonymous”. He repeated the cycle two more times, and on the third repeat when it was his turn, he simply pointed at himself and stayed silent. It was now or never.

The mare kept staring at him with her giant magenta eyes. Anon could almost see the mental gears turn in her head, the pony furiously trying to work out the meaning of his gesture, running countless calculations and building convoluted theories based on her experiences and observations of him. Then, there was a spark! The mare blinked, and Anon smiled. She tilted her to the side… and stayed silent.

Anon let out a dejected sigh. Either he was doing something wrong, or he was stuck with the densest pony in this entire world.

He got up from his knees and dusted off his pants. There was a strong urge to be somewhere else at that moment, caused in part by the stuffy basement air and in part by the sheer disappointment that his best attempt at communicating had failed little less than completely. He turned to the desk and put his phone next to some crystal. The burned plastic had left black stains on his fingers, which only added to the annoyance, so he spared a last glance at the mare who kept silently watching him, turned away and went to the door.

Chapter 3

Anon’s sleep ended as suddenly as it began. One moment he was dreaming of sleeping back home in his bed, and the next he was lying on a rug in someone’s tree house, completely naked, his skin covered in goosebumps. The only saving grace was a beam of sunlight shining through the window and falling on his slightly shivering form. Not wasting a moment, Anon rose from the floor and went over to grab his clothes. They were cold and damp, except for the underpants, which were just smelly, but that was still better than nothing.

While trying to pull the damp socks over his feet, Anon took a second to look around the now-lit shack. There was a giant sheet of paper stabled to a wall with drawings of the farm, orchard, some colored blobs and a town. Despite their overall childishness, the drawings had a surprising attention to details, especially when it came to the farm. He could even make out a small doorbell near the door.

Anon shuddered. The doorbell prompted another memory, one of giant green eyes and an orange creature that had them. He still could not believe whether that was real or a hallucination brought on by stress or dehydration. Or maybe that brook did have something in it, and he was running with intense fever this entire time.

He brought a hand to his forehead. No fever. He also realized he was quite hungry, which is usually not the case when one experiences fever or poisoning.

Looking over the shack for a second time, his eyes fell on the table. There was a stack of clean papers and a box of crayons, which dispelled any doubts this shack was kids’ territory. There was also an apple there and a bunch of unfinished drawings. Grabbing the apple and taking a bite, Anon glanced at the pictures. One of them had some building that somewhat resembled a school. Another – some green grass, a sea or a lake and a sun shining overhead. A third drawing, curiously, was a messy hexagon grid done in 3 colors. The last one had a weird orange colored dog with green-

Anon felt his blood run cold. A half-swallowed chunk of apple refused to come down, getting stuck somewhere in the middle and prompting a coughing fit. After catching breath, Anon risked another glance at the table. There it was, clear as day. Orange dog with green eyes. Or not a dog, its legs were far too tall and thick for that. It also had a yellow-colored tail and… a mane? The hat was there as well, because of course it had a hat yesterday, how could he forget?

That took a while to internalize. On one hand, this here was concrete evidence that what he saw yesterday was not a fever dream but, in fact, real deal. On the other hand, he has never seen anything like it before. Whatever it was was either alive or a life-like imitation, but Anon never heard of any genetic programs that could produce something similar, and as far as he knew, real-life robots were very expensive. Doubtful an apple farmer would be able to afford themselves one. But on the other other hand, the kids have obviously seen it, and maybe even gave it a hat, and drew it not as a monster, but in the same way they would draw a house pet or their relatives. So, whatever the orange thing was, it was most likely benign. Or peaceful. Or at the very least passive.

Deep in thought, Anon kept absent-mindedly eating the apple, and once finished, used the stem to clean his teeth. Suddenly realizing what’s going on, he came over the window, raised the frame and threw the stem out. From this point of view, he could only see the neat lines of the orchard, the fence and the forest beyond. The sky was clear and it was the middle of the day, meaning he has slept for over 12 hours.

With no better idea in mind, Anon decided to attempt meeting the farm owners once again. They could’ve been in the house this entire time, which meant he essentially freaked out over nothing and spent an extra night not in a warm bed, but in a dusty rug on the floor. What an embarrassment.

Going over to the door, Anon grabbed the chair and moved it. Or tried to, as it refused to budge at first. Internally feeling proud at how good he must’ve positioned it yesterday, Anon gave it a slight kick. The chair came loose and fell down the floor with a loud thud. Grabbing it and moving it back to the table – wouldn’t want to upset the owners as much as he already may – Anon put his hand on the door handle. Giving the last look at the interior – the damp spot on the floor where his clothes laid, the picture with the orange thing on the table, the window that for some reason felt off – he pulled the door open and took a step outside. And saw It.

It was the orange dog thing from yesterday. The green eyes were trained on him, half-covered by the stetson as they were yesterday. It wasn’t making a single move, which was slightly unnerving, but not as unnerving as The Other Thing.

The Other Thing was a lavender-colored variation of the first thing. Its general body shape was similar to the orange one’s, but otherwise there were multiple differences. For one, colors: the coat was lavender, not orange, and the mane and tail was purple with blue and pink stripes. Its eyes were of magenta color, and there was no hat. Instead, it had an honest to god horn. And it was looking at him as well.

Taking a second to steel himself, and still half-cautious and half-annoyed at potential embarrassment of the situation, Anon decided to take the initiative.

“Well, what are you two staring it?”

The creatures kept looking at him for couple seconds, then, as one, tilted their heads. The lavender one opened its mouth and let out some chirps. Surprised at their accidental synchronicity, Anon almost missed the sound.

“Whatever, just stay out of the way.”

He took a step towards the ladder. It did not look particularly sturdy and he was at most two meters off the ground, so Anon just squatted down at the edge and jumped off, landing on the soft grass. That prompted some nickers and whinnies from the audience, which were cut off as Anon sent a sharp glare their way.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

The pair kept silently watching him. An idea crossed his mind.

“Actually, where are your owners?”

More silence, followed by a synchronous head tilt. It was less and less likely the creatures were of robotic origin, as robots as advanced as these two would surely have had voice controls, or at the very least more consistent behavior. But then again, the head tilt thing was downright uncanny.

Deciding to grill the owners for an answer later, if they were of hospitable kind, Anon headed back towards the house. Almost immediately he heard soft thumps from behind, and a glance behind confirmed the creatures have started following him, while keeping some distance.

Curiosity reared its insidious head, and the man began to wonder just who the owners would be if not apple farmers. It’s hard to imagine how much money were poured into creating these two, and in secret. Some corporation executives? Mafia? CIA officials in retirement? Any people with access to such resources could easily make Anon disappear if they decided he stumbled across something he shouldn’t have.

Coming out of his thoughts, Anon found himself on the same porch as yesterday. The door was in front of him, the doorbell on the right. A quick glance back confirmed the duo were some mere 10 meters behind, keeping their eyes trained on him and quite obviously ensuring he wouldn’t try to run off. Throat suddenly dry, Anon raised his shaking hand towards the rope, gripped it and gave it an abrupt tug.

The bell rang. The creatures shared a look. The deadbolt slammed open. Anon swallowed. The door opened.