Ballpen

“Don’t peek!” I ordered. I turned to the canvas and focused on the brushes and pencils again.

Yev'eni obediently turned away, sipping mint tea.

I glanced sideways at the rather crooked sketch of a strange-looking cart driving along a snowy road.

Zero – into the right hoof, two and four – into the field. Pull up the cuvette with whitewash by telekinesis, dip the two, lightly hit the handle of the two – and tiny splashes fall on the indigo background. A quick movement of the zero, outlining large dots…

Brush washer, hole with a diluted crown. Touch, touch, touch, outlining…

Two – into the hole with indigo. Stroke, stroke – very careful, to almost miscalculate the effort – and instead of a light shadow, a rough strip will fall on the snowy background…

“Well, that's it! You can watch.”

Yev'eni clicked his tongue in admiration.

“Did it turn out similar?” I moved so as not to block the view.

"One on one," he said, looking at the bright red carriage with lights, moving along the snowy road. On the side of the carriage, a drawing was still drying - a white unicorn stallion holding a bottle by telekinesis with a dark red liquid inside.

“Listen. Why do you associate these carts with winter?” I asked curiously.

“It's simple. One day, the company that produces this drink aired a New Year's commercial. With these trucks and their logo. People liked the commercial, they started airing it every year. Gradually, it became something of a tradition,” explained Yev'eni.

“Understand,” I also cast a critical glance at the canvas. “Well, I can keep this with a clear conscience. Before selling it, I would have to explain to the buyers what is depicted here.”

“It brings joy and an invigorating taste..” Yev'eni sang unmusically, continuing to examine the painting. “Listen, you're really good with these things.”

By 'these things' he must have meant the palette, brushes, and blotting salt with spatula hanging next to me in the telekinetic field.

"A special talent," I explained. "It's common for a telekinetic skill to be tied to a cutie mark. I'm actually a very mediocre telekinetic; I can levitate more than one object or magically separate paints only when I'm painting."

"Telekinesis," Yev'eni shook his head. "Magic..." He sighed. "It probably seems obvious for pony like breathing?"

I spread my hooves - by this point I had already risen up on my hind legs, putting the palette and brushes back in place.

“It depends. Almost every unicorn can cast simple spells, like telekinesis or light. But something complicated, like transformation or teleportation, takes a long time to learn. And there are only a few unicorns in all of Equestria who can cast more than three or four spells. Is there no magic on Earth?”

“If there is, I haven't encountered it,” Yev'eni looked at the clock standing on the shelf. “Burnt pancake! I hope I don't be late!”

I made a mental note to myself - a burnt pancake serves as the human equivalent of "meadow muffins" or a naming of Discord.

“Where to?.. oh.”

“To Committee,” Yev'eni shuddered. “I hope they don't decide to stuff me and hand me over for experiments.”

Outside, as the weatherpony had promised, it was drizzling - in the morning the pegasi had begun to drive the clouds to clear the city sidewalks. I went to get an umbrella.

“Then let's hurry.”

“I’m not dragging you,” Yev’eni protested. “I can somehow manage the subway ride. I can’t forever walk hand-in-nand… hand-in-hoof with you, right?”

I winced.

“Listen! By the way, I'm worried about you too! If I can't help you, then at least I'll support you morally!”

Yev'eni smiled warmly.

"You've helped me so many times, I've lost count," he threw on the minotaur jacket he'd been raking leaves in. "Okay, let's go. Just don't be offended if you have to sit in their lobby and wait for them to let me go."

The lock clicked. We headed down the narrow – especially for Yev'eni – creaky steps.

“Do you remember the way?”

“Ah,” the human waved his hand. “Language will bring to Kyiv... yeah,” he stopped short. “Anyway, we'll figure it out. Especially since you're with me.”

“And was it true that Twilight Sparkle was going to come personally to examine you?” I remembered.

Yev'eni glanced at me. Laughed.

“Ah, so that's why you asked to come with me? You want to see your princess in person?”

I laughed sheepishly.

“Well, that too! She is, after all, the heroine of the country and the supreme ruler!”

“I can imagine,” Yev’eni chuckled.

The precinct's lobby was busier today. There were several guard carriages at the gates, and one with the Committee symbol, an earth pony guard leading a menacingly scowling griffon somewhere. At the stairs leading to the second floor, I noticed an old acquaintance, Soft Grit, and a couple more ponies in the Committee uniform. They immediately stood at attention upon our appearance.

But before Yev'eni could address them, a light green hurricane swooped down on us.

“Yev'eni Komaro?! I’m so glad to see you!”

A light green unicorn with an aquamarine mane and a cutie mark in the form of a golden lyre extended a hoof to Yev'eni. He grasped it with his hand with a surprised look, and then the pony grabbed it with both hooves and shook it.

“We've all been waiting for you to arrive! Let's go quickly!”

Yev'eni looked back at me, stunned.

“Is this your princess?” he whispered with just his lips.

I just shook my head. The unicorn didn't look like the Princess of Friendship at all.

“Oh! I apologize, I did not introduce myself. Lyra Heartstrings, Friendship and Unity Committee of Kingdom, Observation and Universal Testings. My group is engaged in the study of the human species. We have already delivered all the necessary equipment and can begin the analysis!” she blurted out cheerfully, continuing to squeeze Yev'eni's hand.

Who shuddered noticeably at the word “analysis”.

"Wasn't Princess Twilight going to handle this case herself?" I asked, feeling a slight twinge of regret. You got the chance to personally interact with the Princess of Friendship herself not everyday.

Lyra shook her tousled mane.

“She is too busy negotiating with Zebrika. But don't worry! I will prepare a full report for her on everything the experiments have shown!” She pulled Yev'eni, who swallowed nervously, somewhere into the depths of the precinct.

"Don't worry," Soft Grit said with a hidden sneer. "Doctor Heartstrings is a very experienced specialist. She won't allow herself to damage the experimental sample. At most, she'll take a couple of pieces as a keepsake."

I snorted.

“I was hoping to see the princess.”

"Your companion is not an important enough person to be honored with her personal visit," Soft Grit snapped. "He is not even a unique case. We have identified several similar situations in the last couple of weeks," she winced.

I wanted to know more about this - where else people had shown up and whether it was as sudden as what happened to Yev'eni and me. But looking at the agent's frowning face, I didn't dare ask any questions.

“You can wait there,” Soft Grit said gloomily, pointing her foot toward the bench. I nodded and trudged in the direction indicated.

I don't know about Yev'eni, but for me, the visit to the Committee (Observation and Universal Testings) really turned into torture. The bench was discordianly hard, there was absolutely nothing to do, and I regretted twenty times that I didn't bring from home the unfinished "Daring Do and the Lost Swamp".

For a moment I considered running away from the precinct and visiting the nearest cafe with a newspaper stand. But under the heavy gaze of agent Soft Grit I felt a surge of irrational timidity. That's the first thing. And I didn't want to miss Yev'eni when the Committee vivisectors finally let him out of their clutches. Even if that was figurative, they hardly had hippogriffs or griffons on staff.

The hand on the clock moved mockingly slowly. I tried to entertain myself by watching the guards bustling about and the agents gloomily bored at the entrance. It was a so-so activity, I must say.

After five hours of waiting, I couldn't take it anymore. My rump and legs were mercilessly numb, Soft Grit had disappeared somewhere, and under the heavy gaze of the agents, I jumped up and rushed out into the street. Where I trotted into the next block, burst into a cafe and grabbed a bag of hot donuts in my teeth hastily swallowing a cup of coffee. With oatmeal sprinkles for myself and chocolate for Yev'eni.

Of course, as luck would have it, when I out of breath (start running in the mornings, stupid pony! Before you eat flanks the size of a Statue of Mare!) burst back into the lobby, Yev'eni was already standing at the desk, peering at some numerous forms. Next to him, the invariably gloomy Soft Grit was boring into him with her gaze.

“Oh, hi, Stargaze. I thought you were going home.”

“Just for donuts,” I said, intercepting the bag with telekinesis. “Want some?”

“This isn’t a cafeteria,” the agent muttered. “Fill out the paperwork.”

“Just a minute.”

Yev'eni carefully examined the most ordinary writing quill and inkwell. He tried to draw a line on the paper, sighed heavily, looking at the ugly blot.

“Oh. Can I fill it in with a pencil?”

Soft Grit shifted from hoof to hoof in irritation.

“These are official documents. They are supposed to be filled out in ink and by hand.”

“So, no,” wrinkling his forehead, Yev'eni began to slowly and sadly write out letter after letter. I looked over his shoulder and sighed too. A primary school student from a village one-room school would have done better. It was strange - it seemed like the spell of knowledge of language should have given knowledge of writing as well.

An eternity later, the human straightened up, having let the papers curl up into a tube. Thank Celestia, he had thought to use blotting paper first. He handed the scroll to Soft Grit.

“Can we go?”

“Remember, if you decide to move from Manhattan, you will be required to notify the guards and Committee three days before departure,” the agent muttered.

“Thank you for the warning,” Yev’eni put his hand to his heart. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We dug into the doughnuts. The rain had stopped, though the sky remained overcast. Passersby kept glancing at us, but Yev'eni no longer winced at their reactions as he had on the first day.

“Fear, effufe fe for fe afffarf quesfiof.”

“Whaf?”

We looked at each other and burst out laughing. I quickly finished chewing my donut.

“Sorry for asking, if anything... But did you know how to write before?”

Yev'eni laughed again.

“Rest assured. It's just that your writing utensils are unusual for me. We stopped using them probably a hundred years ago.”

“What do you write with?” I asked curiously.

“Well, we usually use...” Yev'eni stopped. He was staring at the advertising stand opposite the theater building. I followed his gaze with interest.

A poster like any other. It must be a play on some historical theme, judging by the alicorn with a lush white beard and the pegasus with a sword in its teeth, looking down from the poster. They stood on either side of a short earth pony in a cloak, who was boring into the audience with a piercing gaze. In the background, there were some other ponies crowding around – a crystal one with an axe, a unicorn with a bow…

“Do you want to go to a play?” I asked. In principle, there was nothing to do until the evening, when I planned to meet my colleagues. I was not an inveterate theatergoer, and over the past three years I had been to plays once or twice, and then only in company or accompanying journalists. But on the other hand, why not?

Yev'eni rubbed his forehead.

“Oh, this poster reminds me of something,” he squeezed out. “Let’s do it. Although… does the budget allow it?”

“It allows!” I waved it off. I wasn’t lying – there was a week left until payday, and the bits in my wallet were enough to last until then, even with a little extra.

We joined the small queue crowded in front of the theatre box office. There were five or six ponies. However, before our eyes it shortened – two earth ponies, a blue stallion and a dark grey filly, looked back, changed their faces and hurried away. I winced.

“Forget it and don’t worry about it,” Yev’eni whispered in my ear. “I don’t care anymore.”

I nodded sadly.

“By the way. What did this Lira tell you? Well, about the experiments she wanted to do with you.”

The human threw up his hands.

“Well, I didn't really understand it myself. They ran me through a bunch of different equipment, I learned some things, and some don’t. It seems that this Doctor Heartstrings couldn't find any differences from an ordinary isekaied, what is why she was upset. As far as I understand, they hope to find a way to turn off this thing with isekaied sooner or later, but it's not even clear in which direction to dig. She spent the rest of the time asking me about my life on Earth.

The grey-bearded alicorn stood frozen in the middle of the bridge. Flames erupting from beneath the stage illuminated his beard and horn crimson. He lowered his head threateningly, aiming his long horn at the monster's chest.

"You cannot pass!" he cried. "I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"

The alicorn-like creature, seemingly made entirely of fire and darkness, roared gutturally. Its dark wings spread. A fiery sword rose. I could even feel the heat of the fire on my fur – whoever the troupe’s illusionist was, he knew his job well.

The shield that first alicorn raised burst into flames. The floor of the auditorium shook. The audience shuddered as well, as the crimson blade exploded into sparks.

“Go back to the shadow! You shall not pass!”

The grey alicorn's hoof struck the stone, and the bridge shook, falling apart. The fiery alicorn roared in despair, falling through the stage hatch.

"Five seconds until the unexpected turn," Yev'eni muttered.

“What?” I asked, turning my head. The neighboring seats hissed.

“Oh, nothing, Stargaze. Look, this is going to be interesting.”

I turned my head just in time.

"Gandalf!" the earth pony cried desperately, watching as the fiery whip wrapped around the alicorn's leg and pulled him into the trapdoor. "Run, you fools!" the alicorn managed to shout before disappearing under the stage. I gasped. A collective sigh ran through the auditorium.

“Is he dead?” I whispered to Yev’eni.

"Do you want a spoiler?" the human responded in a whisper. Where he had managed to see this play was a mystery that tormented me almost more than the mystery of the fate of the alicorn Gandalf, who had disappeared into the abyss. In revenge, I lightly nudged him (Yev'eni, not Gandalf) with my hoof and returned to the play.

The plot went on. Two pegasi, four earth ponies, a unicorn and a crystal pony meanwhile got out of the catacombs built by the ancient crystal ponies and found themselves in a magical forest of unicorns. After taking a rest and looking into the magic mirror of their princess, they headed down the river. Unfortunately, the hybrids of pegasi and changelings created by the traitor alicorn Saruman managed to track them down - just when the pegasus warrior from the cloud city succumbed to the temptation of the cursed amulet and tried to take it by force. However, he worthily atoned for his misdeed, falling in battle with an innumerable horde of hybrids. His comrades - a unicorn, a pegasus and a crystal pony - arranged a burial for him, lowering his body in a boat into a waterfall, and went in pursuit of the enemies who captured two earth ponies. Meanwhile, the earth pony Frodo and his servant crossed the river...

Finally, the final applause rang out. I stretched, loosening my stiff joints.

“So how do you like it?” Yev’eni asked.

“You know, I liked it,” I admitted sheepishly. “It’s awkward to admit that you’re fascinated by fairy tales… but it was exciting. Only the story, it seemed to me, broke off in the middle. How will it all end? Will they carry the damned ring to the volcano?”

“In the first third,” Yev’eni corrected me.

“How do you know? And anyway, you've obviously seen this play before! Where?!”

Yev'eni chuckled.

"Stargaze, can we go backstage?" he asked. "I'd like to ask the actors something."

“Well, let's try.”

Separating from the crowd of spectators, we approached a small door to the left of the stage. An earth pony peered out and looked at me sternly.

"Excuse me, filly, these are service rooms. Outsiders are not allowed here..." His eyes widened as he looked behind me.

"And the humans?" Yev'eni asked cheerfully. Only the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying the forced nature of his smile.

“And for humans...” the pony rubbed the back of his head with his hoof. “Hm. Oh, okay, come in. Do you want to talk to Philip?”

“To Philip?” Yev'eni asked. “Hm. Yes, I suppose so.”

“Follow me.”

Our guide led us down a narrow and cramped corridor somewhere into the depths of the theater, to a shabby door. He knocked.

“Come in!” a cheerful voice rang out.

The Balrog behind the door was struggling to remove its head. Turning to face us, it staggered carelessly and caught one of Lorien's golden trees. It staggered, crashing to the floor. The second filly, a black-maned unicorn playing the daughter of the unicorn king, looked at us with disapproval and returned to some complicated manipulations in front of the mirror.

"Oh, hay!" Balrog cursed. "This suit has such poor side vision. Excuse me, can you help me?"

“No problem,” Yev’eni pulled Balrog’s head. It came off easily, revealing another one underneath – this time without the fiery mane and horn, looking like the head of an ordinary earth pony with a red mane. However, the flame didn’t burn on the fake head either – it now looked like a helmet of complex shape, covered with some patterns of crystal seals.

“How do you do it?” I couldn't contain my curiosity. “I mean, on stage, when you're engulfed in flames. Illusion magic?”

The actor shook his head.

“Too complicated for long scenes. Do you know what an image capturing spell is?”

“Not very well,” I admitted honestly. “I know that such spell exists, but I have no idea how it differs from an illusion.”

“Well, anyway,” Balrog unfastened some fastener on the side of the suit with his teeth, and part of it moved to the side. The actor climbed out of his armor (finding himself half as tall as them) and ran his hoof over the seals.

“These are beacons for the spell. We have a ponnequin of the same shape, before the performance we coat it with resin and set it on fire. Then our magician captures the image from it and sends it on my costume. Well, for naturalness, I also have a couple of burners built into my helmet, and another one in my sword, but we don’t turn them on on closed stages. Fire safety.”

“How interesting!” I couldn’t hold, looking at the helmet more closely. “And the heat?”

"A brazier and furs," said Balrog. "So you've come for autographs? Winyam McSnaffle is always happy to honor his admirers."

Yev'eni looked at the actor with interest.

“Not exactly... You don't react to me at all. I mean, no more than you do to a pony.”

“What should I react to you?” McSnaffle chuckled. “I already realized that you are one of Philip's compatriots. He will be here in about five minutes - they are now preparing the scenery for the next run.”

“Philip?” Yev’eni asked again.

“Well, yes. Our stagehand and assistant writer. He's the same species as you. What are you called, humlings?”

“Humans,” Yev’eni corrected him. “By the way, are you aware of, well, the play you’re performing?”

“About the play?”

"He means it's a human legend," the unicorn said. Her horn glowed, her crest poking through her thick black mane, crackling with static. I thought she'd used dye; my eye caught a few unpainted hairs.

"Ah," McSnaffle nodded indifferently. "Well, yes. We've sometimes used yak and griffon mythology for our productions, but that's not the most interesting part of world folklore for ponies. Human stories work better."

The door creaked. The pony winced.

"Vinnie, hi, buddy," said the newcomer. "The sets are in place for the first act, Agate asked me to tell you that you have twenty minutes to repack yourself into your shell... Oh."

The man who entered was slightly taller and thinner than Yev'eni, with black hair sticking out in unruly tufts on his head. The lower part of his face was covered with a short furry covering that resembled a beard. I looked at Yev'eni with interest - now it became clear to me why he scraped the skin of his face every morning with a model knife requisitioned from a poor pony during an alien invasion.

“Back oh.”

“Holy shit! Are you from the camp too?”

"Not exactly," Yev'eni looked around. "Listen, is there anywhere we can sit and chat? If you have time, of course."

Philip looked up at the ceiling.

“We'll do one more run, and that's it for today. If you wait two hours, then yes.”

Yev'eni turned to face me.

“Are we in a hurry?”

I got to thinking.

“To be honest, I was counting on dropping by the editorial office. I need to hand in some drafts for Monday's issue.”

He thought about it.

“Listen, then maybe we shouldn't keep you? I don't want to bother you, but I also want to chat with a compatriot.”

“If you stay,” Philip added, “I’ll take you to the gallery for free.”

I shifted from one foot to the other, calculating the time. On the one hand, if I stayed for the performance, I would definitely not make it to the meeting. On the other hand, I understood Yev'eni's desire to talk to a compatriot.

“Are you sure you'll get home without problems?”

“Enough!” Yev'eni exclaimed, smiling. “You're taking care of me like a baby. I'll be fine, don't worry.”

He dropped to one knee next to me.

"To tell you the truth," he whispered in my ear, "I still feel very..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right word, "unusual to speak to your people in person, not through you. I have to get over that if I'm going to live among you. Go about your business, Stargaze, and don't worry about me."

I took a step back uncertainly.

“Okay then. If so... see you in the evening?”

“In the evening.”

The door of the apartment, that seems strangely quiet and empty, creaked.

I dropped my saddlebags on the floor, come into the shower and rinsed off after the street. Without teleporting into the human world or some other parallel reality. I climbed out and rubbed myself with a towel.

I glanced at her watch. It was definitely time for Yev'eni to show up!

Maybe he got lost after all?

Celestia knows, I had to see him off!

I told myself not to twilight ahead of time. After all, four hours had passed. Maybe he and the second Earthling had gotten too chatty and forgot about the time?

I looked into the refrigerator. I looked critically at the dish of muffins on the top shelf. I looked even more critically at my sides. I sighed and took out a bowl of salad.

However, I didn't eat - I wanted to wait for Yev'eni. It's funny - I got out of the habit of eating dinner alone so quickly! So I just put the kettle on a slow fire.

And as soon as it started whistling, the doorbell rang insistently.

I jumped up.

“I thought you weren’t going to show up!” I blurted out, throwing open the door. “…Oh!”

“Well, well. We haven't seen each other for a long time truly, but to rush towards me with such impatience? Or were you expecting someone else?

Silver Line, my art school classmate, stood outside the door and smiled. Next to her, a short, dark-brown pegasus was shuffling around with a box in his mouth. With an effort, I remembered his name, too: Mike Hoof, Silver's special pony in her senior year.

"Mike and I just happened to be in your neighborhood and decided to drop in while we were at it. Come on, Stargaze, don't you want to give an old friend a hug?"

“Oh, sorry, Silver, I'm really glad to see you!” I hugged her and hoof shaked with Mike. “Sorry, I just wasn't expecting guests.”

“If you’re busy, we can come another time,” Silver said sheepishly.

“No, no... I just...”

“Then maybe we should come in? We have some cake to go.”

I hesitated. I didn't want to refuse my friend's in hospitality, but if Yev'eni returned at that moment...

Although why was I worried? In that case, I'll just introduce them to each other.

“Of course, come in!” I rushed into the kitchen to take the kettle, which had been boiled for a long time, off the fire. “Just, Silver, I wanted to warn you - my neighbor should be back soon.”

“Neighbor?” she moved her ears with interest. “You didn't say you lived with anyone else.”

“Yev'eni... well, he recently moved to Equestria. We're sharing an apartment for now.”

“Just sharing an apartment, huh?” Silver nudged me with her shoulder. “Or something else?”

"Come on!" I snorted. "Yev'eni aren't even a pony!"

“Really?” the pegasus giggled. “Oh well, I'm don’t judging. I'm not some retrograde earth pony.”

“Enough, or I'll bite you!”

"Seriously, Stargaze," Mike asked curiously. "Who's your neighbor? A griffon, a minotaur?"

“Well... he...”

The door swung open.

"Hello, Stargaze!" Yev'eni said. "Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The ponies turned around.

Mike swallowed and backed away.

Silver spread her wings and soared up to the ceiling, nearly knocking over a box of cake on the way and ruffling my mane with a gust of wind.

Yev'eni flinched and recoiled.

“Guys!” I howled. “Calm down! What's wrong with you?”

"Stargaze!" Silver gasped, pressing herself into the upper corner of the hallway. "It's... it's..."

Yev'eni sighed very heavily.

“Yes. I am human. But I don't bite, honestly.”

I stomped angrily on the parquet floor.

“Silver! Mike! I'm ashamed of you, honestly.”

“Oh, come on,” Yev’eni spread his hands. “I’m starting to get used to it.”

Silver glided to the floor, still looking at Yev'eni with disbelief.

“S-sorry,” Mike managed. “We-we didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that you look…well, it’s a little unusual, that’s all.”

“Guys, we were supposed to have tea,” I quickly reminded. “Maybe we should sit down at the table after all?”

Ten minutes later we finally found ourselves in the kitchen, I telekinetically picked up the kettle and poured boiling water into the cups. I cut the cake, mentally apologizing to my own figure.

Mike cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence.

"So, are you new to Equestria?" he asked.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Yev’eni nodded.

“Uh... so how do you like our city?” Silver squeezed out.

“I’m still getting used to it,” the human shrugged. “You know… how to describe this feeling. Some things are very similar to those on Earth – that’s what we call our world. And some – they seem completely alien.”

“Yes… it must be very unusual,” Silver’s wings were still trembling, betraying the tension.

“Where were you so late?” I asked, biting and chewing a slice of cake. Mmm... “My favorite, with vanilla and strawberry cream! Silver, thank you very much.”

“Philip and I had a glass of your cider, chatted a bit,” Yev'eni's face darkened. “We're only four years apart in time. You know, it's so weird... When he talks about wars and epidemics, it's like you're listening to a B-movie. But for him, they're just a regular reality on the news, and he doesn't seem to see anything strange about it.”

“Wars and epidemics?” squeaked Silver. Her wings and ears twitched sharply.

Yev'eni sighed again.

“Look, guys. I know about this whole Ponyville thing. I... From what I've been told, it's a very unfortunate combination of stupidity, shock, and fear. But we're not all crazy. Not even most of us. Honestly. Stargaze won't let me lie.”

I looked down at the hooves lying on the table.

“Silver. Mike. Please.”

"We're sorry," Mike muttered. "We didn't mean to be rude."

“It's all fine,” Yev'eni put a spoonful of cake in his mouth. “I would be shocked myself if I met an alien in the apartment next door. Actually, I was shocked on the first day,” he let out a short laugh. “No problem.

“How are you?” I tried to ease the tension again. “Are you still there, in the art shop?”

“Yeah,” Silver nodded, finally looking away from the human.

“Are you not going to draw for yourself? I think you would be great at it. You can't just keep copying forever.”

Pegasus shrugged.

“They pay well for that. Are you there, too, at Manehattan World?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought photographers had replaced newspaper artists these days,” Mike said.

I laughed.

“It's not that soon. Picture editors don't always have the right photo under their hoof, sometimes they need to make a redrawing of unsuitable ones. It's not always possible to take a photo at all. Again, caricatures, cartoons, advertising drawings... And it's not enough to take a photo - you need to know how to place it on a sheet of paper, how to combine it with text! In general, I have enough work. And for my soul...” I pointed with my hoof at my studio.

"Speaking of work," Yev'eni interjected, "Stargaze, I'm not unemployed anymore."

“What, really?”

“Yeah. They needed a second worker at the theater to help Philip. He took me to his boss - well, and...” he waved his hand vaguely in the air.

“Congratulations! It turned out well.”

“Well, thank you,” Yev'eni took a sip of tea. “Lucky, yes. As Philip said, "if you know what you want, your place will find you."

Mike glanced at his watch.

“I think it's time for us to go.”

Silver nodded, standing up.

“ Okay, Stargaze, it was nice seeing you. Uh... nice to meet you, Yev'eni.”

“Likewise,” the human nodded.

I closed the door and locked it. I turned to Yev'eni.

“I'm sorry, please.”

He waved it off.

“It's okay, Stargaze.”

“Really?” I raised my head to look the human in the eyes.

"Very really," a crooked grin appeared on his face. "Although sometimes it seems... Maybe it really is worth moving to this Ponyville prison. At least they won't look at you like an alien monster there."

I looked down.

“I'm sorry.”

Now Yev'eni dropped to one knee to look me in the face.

“I'm sorry that I ruined your meeting with friends.

“They’ll get used to it,” I promised. “Like I have got.”

Yev'eni laughed grimly.

“And I'll get used to also. Maybe even...” he didn't finish.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Yev'eni's gaze became distant. “These guys, Marco and Philip, gave me an idea...“ he waved it off. “Okay. I'll tell you later. When I've thought it over properly.”