For a long time, Peter huddled at the foot of the tree. He still occasionally shook or chattered his teeth. He was naked, and though the sun was high in the sky, there was a chill in the air.

Peter could still feel on his chest the phantom hands of Applejack– or at least, what looked like Applejack, but who was most definitely not Applejack. She would never do something like that to a man who needed help! She would never do anything like that, period!

Peter scooted up against the tree once his breathing was finally steady. The bark scratched into his bare back. Even though no one was around, he kept his knees together to conceal his genitals.

There was no way he was going back into Ponyville. It simply wasn't safe. For the time being, the Everfree, chaotic and unnatural though it was, would be the safest option.

No, wait, Peter thought, furiously wracking his brain and pondering his available options. There's the Castle of the Two Sisters. It's a hollowed-out wreck, but it's secluded and private. Actually, why stop there? The castle's built right on top of the Tree of Harmony in a cave. A good cave sounds nice.

But before that happened, he needed to cover up his dignity. A short look around quickly revealed a cluster of enormous thick green leaves drooping from seveal trees on the side of the road.

Peter hurriedly picked the torso-sized leaves. It wasn't long before he realized he needed a way to attach them.

Applejack had rope back at the barn. Peter briefly considered it. But not seriously. He was not going back into enemy territory. So, gritting his teeth, Peter set forth into the Everfree.

The Everfree forest was thickly sown and very humid. Peter quickly found himself sweating. Some of the plants Peter recognized, but there were many vivid and peculiar ones that he didn't even think existed on Earth. With that in mind, he tried to avoid touching or going near plenty of the mysterious, colorful wildlife.

Only several minutes later, he did come across a good-sized vine stuck coiled around a thick dark tree. Peter poked the tree and found that it at least wasn't sentient. He unraveled as much vine as he could reach. Quickly finding a narrow rock at the roots, Peter hacked at the vine until it split. Finally, he tied one of the large leaves around his front with a simple square knot, making an apron of sorts.

Only then did Peter feel properly clothed again. The vine bit into his back, and he still felt bare, but it was better than nothing.

Peter looked around him once more. He sighed. "Not bad." And he chuckled, changing his accent. "Not saying I want to build a summer home here, but the trees are quite lovely."

But there was no one around who got the reference, and there never would be. The Princess Bride didn't exist in this world. And once more, after nothing else happened, Peter felt helplessly alone. He slumped his shoulders and leaned on the vine tree.

Was there a way to eventually warm up to the ponies and expose them to better things? Perhaps with earth culture among them they'd…

No, Peter thought. It wouldn't make any difference. They wouldn't listen. And I'd probably mess the storytelling up, too; I don't have anything beyond my words.

Perhaps Bible stories. That gave Peter more thought. He didn't have many verses memorized, but he knew that God loved His children. How, then, to tell these ponies to repent and believe? They would either ignore him or assault him.

He could figure that out later. For now, Peter needed shelter and food.

Peter squinted through the verdant canopy. Where was the Castle again? Equestrian geography was not his strongest suit.

Peter gagued the tree. It seemed very tall. After brief consideration, he leaped up and grabbed one of the nearly-black branches. He curled up and wrapped his legs around the branch, then, with great effort, came up on top.

Peter continued to ascend the tree, keeping close to the trunk. Three-quarters of the way to the top, the branches thinned out so they became too thin to bear his weight. Or at least, Peter refused to risk it.

At this height, Peter tried to squint through the foliage. He was quite a ways up, but he still couldn't see much over the tops of other trees. There was nothing distinctive he could use for a marker.

At a loss for action, still clinging onto the branches, Peter bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"Dear God," he hesitantly began. "I'm scared. I'm lost, and I need guidance. I don't know why these things need to happen, but… I do know you love your children. I'm hoping for the best here, but if you have something else in mind, give me the will to accept it. Thanks for everything. And… in Jesus' name, amen."

He waited for a few seconds, searching for something, before opening his eyes. Initially, nothing happened. But something to his left caught his attention, and he swiveled his head.

There was a light, a wavering, shimmering effect like the sun off water. It came through the tree line, so Peter couldn't see the end result. At the same time, there came a tug at his heart and a burning in his chest.

As Peter hurriedly clambered back down the tree, he reflected. That was two for two now that God answered his prayers almost immediately in the same day. Something extraordinary was happening.

Peter hit the soil, adjusted his apron, and headed off into the wilderness with nothing else. He could feel the tug at his heart like a magnet, and it knew better than him, so Peter let it take him wherever it would.

It might have been half an hour or three hours later. Peter didn't keep track; it was just long. He tromped through the Everfree with his heart as his guide, occasionally snagging his skin on thorny bushes and stepping on wet leaves and sticks. Some things he knew to avoid, such as rocky-looking things in a creek and a small clearing full of bright blue flowers. The last thing he needed was Poison Joke to shrink his penis by half, or something. Or double the size. Either way meant trouble.

By the time Peter came within sight of the tree line, his feet up to his shins had been dirtied and scraped. Holding on to the shred of hope he had for sure shelter, Peter advanced on and eventually emerged out of the Everfree.

He was on a small grassy ledge that led to a stone staircase leading down into a ravine. On the other side of the ravine was the Castle of the Two Sisters, dilapidated, overgrown, and on the verge of collapse.

Peter examined the ruins. Now that he was there in person, he was glad he hadn't held onto hope for shelter in them. The castle was likely infested with beasts and disease, and the mortar holding the stones together seemed as solid as stale bread.

So he started coming down the steps into the ravine. The transition from soft underbrush to hard stone wore down on his feet even more, and with each step, Peter felt aches overcome his heels. But he was almost to the cave.

It was only when he reached the bottom of the steps and reached soil that he noticed something off about the cave. Curious, he approached the entrance, but Peter didn't need to go far before he got to a vantage where he could see all the way into the back of the cave. There, he could see that The Tree of Harmony was-

Peter gawked. It was on fire!

The Tree of Harmony was thickly coated in a wavering, otherworldly substance that was undoubtedly fire, swirling and snapping up in curtains that left nothing on the tree uncovered. The flame was white, though, almost translucent, and the crystal tree was not being consumed by it. The fiery flickering light reflected off the surfaces of the cave like sunlight in a pool.

The inferno pulsed, briefly taking on a turquoise hue.

"Peter Damascus Browning."

It was a gentle voice that had no physical origin as far as Peter could tell, but Peter knew that it came from the tree. And the voice…

"Mom?" Peter breathed. He scrambled forth, edging himself over the boulders and into the cave. That was impossible! How could he be hearing her voice here in Equestria?

As the tree grew closer, Peter could see details of the tree better. The long flame tongues were coiling and snapping all over, enveloping the enormous tree and licking the ceiling of the cave. But the inferno made no sound except for a small whisper, like a breath of wind on a calm day.

Peter's bare feet had been cold on the rocky ground at the cave's mouth. But upon coming near to the tree, he felt like he had been submerged in a hot bath. Peter visibly relaxed. The tense tremors and sores in his body melted away in the presence of this otherworldly, divine being.

"Thank you," his mother's voice said from the burning tree. "I am so proud of all you've done so far."

A root extending from the tree sprouted a crystal stalk two feet out of the ground, right in front of a startled Peter. The stalk quickly grew branches and red bulbs that formed into fruits the size of Peter's fist. Meanwhile, the ends of the crystal root split and grew before reforming, creating a full circle that leaked its substance into the circle, filling up with pure water.

"Eat," the Tree of Harmony invited. "Drink."

Peter, rightfully hesitant, plucked a fruit off the small stalk and squished it in his palm. It gave way easily. He gave a tenuous bite and widened his eyes at the first chew. He immediately set about devouring the treat. It had no peel, pit, or seeds, it was uniformly ripe, and tasted far sweeter than any fruit he had previously known. It didn't taste quite like any particular fruit Peter knew, but Peter knew he would rather have this fruit than any dessert in a fancy restaurant.

Peter ate three more while sitting cross-legged. Then he dipped his hand into the water, brought it to his mouth, and took a sip. The water felt like wind in his mouth, was free from any minerals or metals, and was the exact temperature he preferred: slightly colder than lukewarm. It was like melted fresh snow. Peter went back for much more.

It was a while before Peter stopped. All the pain in his feet had dissipated by now, along with all the other subtle aches and pains he had been unconsciously experiencing.

Peter stood back up and gazed more deeply into the flaming Tree of Harmony. This hadn't happened in any episode he had watched. "Who… are you?" Peter wondered.

The tree pulsed in power once more. "I am Faust."

Peter froze. As in, Lauren Faust, the creator? In that case, to these ponies…

"You mean… you're God? Pony God?" Peter clarified.

"You could say that," the tree said. She hummed in sweet laughter, and the tree flickered accordingly.

Peter's knees, already weak, threatened to give out altogether. He stumbled back, and luckily a boulder was high enough to hit his knees and plop his butt on the rock.

"I d… I don't understand," Peter mumbled. He lifted his trembling hands. "Faust? I-if that's really you? That's …"

"Hard to accept," the tree said. "I understand."

Peter breathed deeply, in and out, clutching his midsection. Hearing his mother say all this– the very concept of pony God, in a pony dimension he was in– Peter felt his head spin. He grabbed the sides of his head and bowed.

"Peter," the tree– Faust– said. "Do you need help?"

Peter took a few more deep breaths. "No, no," he refused. "I just… man. Give me a sec."

As soon as Peter steadied his breathing and looked back up, the burning tree started speaking again.

"There are many dimensions, Peter, and this one is alternate in that the My Little Pony show you are familiar with is real. But it has also diverged from its original route. Now it's a dangerous and volatile place. Please, Peter. Don't refuse my help. It is only through me that you will be safe, and your purpose fulfilled."

Peter tilted his head. "Purpose?"

"Who do you think brought you here?"

Peter pointed shakily at the tree. "You took me here? To this… nightmare Equestria?"

"Not to punish you. I promise you, Peter: all of this shall help you grow into a great man."

Peter clenched his fists on his knees. It was a relief, to be sure, to know that it wasn't a divine smite from God. But still…

"What's 'this?' What are you planning to do with me? Why– how– wha– look, Faust, I'm just a guy. Why me, why, why?"

It occurred to Peter as the words left his mouth that he was whining, and in the presence of a God who had just fed him.

In frustration, he winced and bowed his head again. "Sorry, sorry! I shouldn't be saying… Sorry."

"Look up."

It was said with such care that Peter instinctively did.

"I love you, Peter," his mother's voice said from the tree.

Peter was already threatening to cry before this. Those words put him over the edge, and tears leaked down both his cheeks. He growled and hissed, wiping the water away.

Faust stayed respectfully silent while Peter recovered. When Peter finally sniffed and got his breathing under control again, Faust continued.

"I have brought you to this dying world to bring others to a knowledge of my love," Faust said. "They are my children, and I want you to gather them to me."

"Gather… how?" Peter got out.

"You've seen my people," Faust clarified. "You are aware of their depravity, their lasciviousness. It hurts to see them suffer so. I have taken you here, Peter, to be my mouthpiece, to perform my strange work and do my mighty wonders."

Peter felt his spine stiffen and his heart race. "You want… to operate through me?"

The tree pulsed.

Peter searched for the right words. "But why use me? I mean, a human. Why not use a pony here?"

"Who would I choose?" Faust sadly but rhetorically asked. "And even if I did, my children would insist the miracles come from their own hands. I chose you, Peter, a magic-less child of Elohim, so my power and influence in your life and the lives of my children is undeniable."

Peter jiggled his head in acknowledgement. It did make sense.

"Peter, I am willing, I am eager, to bestow you with the power and authority of God. Great things will be done in my name through you, and you shall blossom as a rose in glory. But this requires your decision. Will you take it?"

Peter's heart thumped. A once-in-a-lifetime chance. To work for… someone that wasn't God?

"I don't know," Peter admitted, shifting in his seat. "No offense, Faust. I'm sure that I'd grow and learn a lot. And thank you for the offer. But… I've promised to serve no one but God. My God."

"I understand, Peter," the tree consoled, pulsing and flaring up once more. "It's a very serious oath you've taken. You're right to stick by your principles. What better service is there than pledging allegiance to a perfect being?"

Peter smiled. If nothing else, Faust was willing to listen.

"I will reason with you, then, in the way mortals do," Faust continued. "I am Faust, the queen of heaven. I swear it by my throne and my honor: I am God in this dimension. God is a label applied to perfect beings. Can you be perfect and not be a God? Elohim is perfect. I am perfect. Whether it be my voice or His, our commands are the same."

Peter hesitantly indicated a few things in midair. "So you're saying… if God– Elohim, if He said the same thing, I'd… Wait, God's not the only God out there?"

"There are infinite dimensions where the differences in intelligent life lead to creatures not made in Elohim's image. These ponies are in my image, and I maintain divine authority within my bounds. I simply asked Elohim for help with a domestic problem, and He allowed me to use discernment to pick you for the task. This is completely under your God's control. When this task is done, you will be taken back to your home as if no time has passed."

"...And if I die?"

"Your task is done," Faust answered. "So too if you refuse my offer. I shall send you back if you say no, and without a cursing or tracking. But nopony will have learned anything. Nopony would have grown or changed. Nothing would have been gained. There would be only confusion, and loss."

Silence reigned. All that could be heard was the flickering of transparent silver flames on the tree as Peter pondered it.

"Peter," Faust softly said from the tree. "You have tremendous potential. And even if you may not have faith in me, I have faith in you."

Peter swallowed. It hurt. "So… Elohim's good with this?"

"He will count your work and faith in His name. You need not swear allegiance to me. Only to the will of God; to the way of light and the pursuit of perfection."

For a short time, Peter considered it.

Then he stood on trembling legs and took several steps towards the Tree of Harmony. He could feel the heat radiating off it, see the silvery flames snap out harmlessly at him.

Once Peter got close enough to reach out and touch it, he knelt, hissing as he put pressure through his knees into the stone.

"I swear to… do God's will," Peter mumbled. "The wishes of God, of perfect beings. If this is what you would have me do, if it's the same as God would want, then… I will do as you ask."

Peter felt his heart expand and flare as brightly as the tree did at those words. And Peter was filled with the utmost assurance that this was correct. It simply felt right in his heart and mind.

"Stand," Faust invited.

Peter did. His legs were steady where before they were trembling.

"Reach for the tree," Faust chimed.

Peter did. When his finger plunged into the flames, it was only as hot as bath water.

Then the flame traveled up his arm, and Peter yelped in fright. The flame didn't hurt, but it did tickle. The silver flame, like an expanding bubble, coated his entire arm. Then it spread across his chest, spidering into his other shoulder, down his stomach, and up his neck. The flame did not consume his flesh, but Peter did feel himself becoming smoother of a sort as the flames enveloped his other arm, then his waist and legs. The leaf apron he wore smoldered and detached completely, burning and curling up.

Peter felt the flame come up his cheeks and cover his eyes. He shut them as the flames then covered the entirety of his head, closing on the crown of his skull.

Once that happened, all of Peter had been immersed in blinding flame. Peter's eyes instinctively opened, and he gasped. It was like a baby taking his first breath.

After only a few seconds, the flames seeped into Peter's skin. In no time at all, only a few flickers of fire remained on him, and they soon died out.

Peter patted himself down once his baptism was complete. His skin felt refreshed, smooth, and clean as he ran fingers along his arm. The muscle underneath was firmer, denser. His bowels felt cleared, his nose and ears more sensitive.

"What was that?" Peter asked out loud to no one in particular.

"Health in the navel and marrow in your bones," Faust informed from the burning Tree of Harmony. "Your body is sacred and ought not to be defiled."

Peter nodded. "And you want me to give this message to the ponies here?"

"Among other things. You shall be my ordained prophet. I don't expect you to be perfect, but you must try."

Peter examined his hands again. Thinning his lips, he clenched them. "I get it."

"But you must prepare to face my people first," Faust set forth. Peter's attention turned to the burning tree again. "Spiritually and physically. It would be wise to have permanent clothes, for instance."

Peter looked down, barked in alarm and embarrassment, and crossed his legs. "Gah, I'm sorry! It's just the leaf, it burned off when you, you know…"

"Every mother has seen their sons naked," Faust's voice breezed aside. "It's nothing to fear."

Peter huffed and turned away, still blushing. "Yeah, I get it. It's just personal."

"Of course," Faust allowed. "I have already prepared for this. If you'll follow me…"

And a piece of the fire on the Tree of Harmony broke off, coalesced into a sphere, and began hovering out of the cave.

Peter, with a lump in his stomach and a burning in his bosom, followed at a pace.

Author's Note

I hope I didn't say anything sacrilegious.