Ballpen

by Senior Theofigist

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Spitfire, Timber Spruce, Slice of Life, Human, Captain Celaeno, Lyra, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 93840

A man enters Equestria after dying in an accident. Standard accidental traveler? Yes, but he is by no means the first human to travel this path - and Equestria is not happy with surprise guests...

A man enters Equestria after dying in an accident. Standard accidental traveler? Yes, but he is by no means the first to travel this path - and Equestria is not happy with surprise guests...

I once saw a complaint that the vast majority of Human-in-Equestria fics begins from the template plot: the appearance of human in the Everfree, encounter with CMC, meeting the Twilight, etc. I decided to experiment with moving away from this pattern - and with the theme of multiple isekai brony travelers in Equestria.

P.S. English isn't my native language and I use Google Translate and Reverso. I tried to correct the result, but I would appreciate pointing out any errors.
P.P.S. I made the cover in FusionBrain. I'm sorry~

Published 2024-05-13 19:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2025-02-16 01:57:05 UTC

Through the bath

How did it all start?

It seems that since I decided to take a bath.

Well, everyone knows how it's done. You take off your clothes, get into the bath, turn on and adjust the water, and so on and so forth.

And it’s better not to drop the soap. And not at all for the reason that might occur to someone vulgar.

It’s just that when a slippery and wet piece ends up under your foot at the bottom of the bathtub, it’s very easy to slip.

I swore. I desperately waved my arms, trying to regain the balance. I grabbed the curtain, the thin plastic curtain crackled and broke. I fell into the water with a scream, and the cast-iron edge of the bathtub hit me heartily on the back of my head.

BOOM!!!

The water closed overhead.

Half-stunned, I frantically waved my arms, trying to grab onto something, not finding support.

The light from the bulb in the socket above the door became further and dimmer. The surface of the water was moving away. My hands couldn't find anything to grab onto. There was a bottomless abyss below me instead of an acrylic-covered bottom. Darkness closed around.

How? How can you drown in an ordinary bathtub half a meter high?

I did not know. And I didn’t care at that moment. Water poured into my mouth and nose, and suffocation tightened my throat. I screamed, losing all the air I had left. I flailed my arms and legs, pushing my way through the water somewhere upward, to where I had last seen the light.

And the light returned. Not the usual white of an energy-saving light bulb, but dull yellow, as happens when a light bulb is plugged into a network with a power below its nominal value. I didn't care, of course. With the remaining air, with bulging eyes, I jumped to the surface and screamed, spitting and swearing at the same time.

And somebody else screamed along with me.

I didn't have time to see anything. Something shot up from the water right in front of my face and hit my knee hard and sensitively. It tried to jump to its feet...

And it smashed its head into the heavy bronze bathroom faucet. It staggered and splashed into the water, raising a bunch of splashes, just like I did less than a minute ago.

I shook my head and pumped the water out of my eyes and ears.

“What, ... ... ... ... ... ?!!!”

This is not my bath!

This is not my bathroom!

And who is it?!!

I stared at my unexpected bathmate, submerged under the water... and it dawned on me that if this... it... wasn't aquatic, and I wasn't going to drown it, then it would be best to get it out of the water.

Bent down. My hands slid over the wet fur, I grabbed it more comfortably, strained myself, and with effort lifted the wet creature above the water.

Exactly. Creature.

It definitely wasn't a human.

At first it seemed to me that I was holding a huge light green cat in my arms. More precisely, a transitional sea green color between blue and green.

No, not a cat. A small horse. Judging by the dark blue hooves and the long blue mane hanging in wet strands from the neck.

Although there was indeed something cat-like in the muzzle, more rounded and shorter than a horse’s, with large triangular ears and large, rolled-up eyes.

Well, except for the short twisted horn in the middle of the forehead.

The aquamarine horned cat-horse coughed. I hastily lowered its chest onto the side of the bathroom, especially since my arms were already tired - it weighed sixty to seventy kilograms. It wheezed and spat out a considerable amount of water onto the embroidered rug. Its gaze focused on me.

“Uh-uh...” I squeezed out with numb lips.

Yes of course. It's common to start drowning in your own bathtub. Dive to a few meters that physically cannot be there. And surface in someone else's bathroom, and with a green unicorn to boot!

Maybe I have hallucinations?

The cat-horse made an indistinct sound. It backed away from me. It got out of the bathroom On spreading hooves. It pressed her back into the corner of the bathroom, looking at me with wide eyes.

“What the …?!” that’s all I could say.

This is definitely not my bathroom. The tile is not white, but dark blue, with goldfish and seahorses painted on top of it. Instead of a mixer with a ball valve, there are two hefty taps with rotary valves, judging by the color - made of bronze, not stainless steel. The sink is unusually low to the floor, at waist height, and mirror too. And mirror is not a simple square one, like mine, but an oval one in a bronze frame with curls and hearts. On the shelves nearby there is a rich arsenal of some bottles and boxes. The lamp above the door is screwed into a porcelain shade stylized as a flower.

"Where I am?" I asked either the cat-horse or into space. Feeling my head spinning from shock and misunderstanding.

Instead of answering, the cat-horse jumped up and rushed out the door. A second later, a clanging noise was heard from outside.

I slowly stepped over the side. I looked around. I saw a terry towel embroidered with flowers hanging on a low hook and hastily wrapped it around my hips, in case the owner of the bathroom appeared, so as not to flash my naked junk in front of him.

Where I am? What's happening? I'm out of my mind?

I felt the back of my head. Expecting to find a huge lump there, stuffed into the bathtub. Finding nothing.

Staggering, I stepped across the threshold.

The cat-horse showed up behind the door, in a tiny dark corridor with several small closets. It was clutching the key in her teeth and fiercely poking it into the keyhole in another door, a meter from the bathroom. Hearing me open the bathroom door, it shuddered and rushed somewhere into the depths of the corridor, dropping the key.

I slammed my slack jaw shut. I walked up to the door and turned the handle. It didn't give in. I picked up the key, I don’t know why.

Feeling a nasty, tiny tremor spreading through my body, I took a few steps along the corridor. I opened one door slightly and there was a Genoa bowl toilet. Behind the second was a cramped kitchen with a gas stove with a couple of burners - also below my waist height. However, the ceiling above my head was unusually low; I could reach it with my hand without even standing on tiptoe.

The cat-horse was found in the corner of the third room, quite large compared to the others. In the darkness, the outlines of bookshelves, a table and a small sofa could be discerned. The cat-horse was pressed into the corner between the sofa and the wall, near the curtained window.

As soon as I crossed the threshold of the room, a dim aquamarine glow flashed. The mop standing in the corner shuddered, flew into the air and hovered in the middle of the room.

Glowing and threateningly aiming the bar at my chest.

“Uh-uh???” that’s all I said, picking up my jaw.

I carefully reached out and touched the mop with my finger.

The light melted. The mop fell to the floor with a crash. The cat-horse shuddered.

“Irya’ho mease,” it muttered. “Kelyatti neamne... ire! Ire!”

Oh my god... it sounded like articulate speech.

I felt my legs giving way. In time I saw a chair nearby and plopped down into it. Feeling my head spinning.

So. Once again and in order.

I wanted to take a shower. Fell and hit my head. I found himself somewhere in someone else's home. In front of me is a talking cat-horse-unicorn.

Yes. I'm probably crazy and see things.

I slowly extended my hand with the key towards the cat-horse.

“Hold it. You dropped it”

It slowly, as if it was afraid to make sudden movements, bowed its head. The horn glowed with the same dim light.

Shining at the same time, the key burst out of my palm and floated through the air towards the unicorn. Until it picked up a piece of metal with its teeth right out of the air.

Amendment. In front of me is a talking cat-horse-unicorn with telekinesis.

It said something again.

“You're welcome,” I muttered.

The cat-horse, just as slowly and smoothly, trying not to get close to me, made its way along the wall back into the corridor. I heard the clanging of keys in the lock. It continued for a suspiciously long time, then a dissatisfied exclamation was heard - one could feel it in the tone.

The hooves clopped back towards me. An aquamarine head timidly poked out from behind the doorframe. Something clicked, and a lamp lit up on the ceiling - unusually large and angular compared to the ones I was used to, as if a chemical flask had been screwed into place of a chandelier.

The horn glowed and the cabinet doors opened. Another towel floated across the room to the cat-horse, and she began (in the electric light I saw that the creature was clearly female), glancing in my direction, to wipe her wet mane. Deftly balancing on her hind legs and holding the towel with her front legs.

Somehow, abstractly, I thought that I had told the hostess quite a lot, including the wet chair. The thought flashed and disappeared in the depths of the shocked consciousness...

Stop.

The hostess?

Well, in general, the things around are just the right size for a cat-horse if she stands on her hind legs...

So, it turns out that I suddenly and without warning emerged from her bathtub when she, in turn, was about to take a shower?

Then it’s clear why she’s so scared.

Although this somehow doesn’t make it any easier for me.

What happened?

Did a portal to another dimension open in my bathroom or what?

Maybe this is a dream?

I pinched my leg. It was painful.

Slowly, like an old man, I rose from his chair.

I went to the window.

I wasn’t even surprised that outside the window I found a completely different from my usual one in the Moscow suburbs.

And there was a street lined with five-six-story red brick houses. The cobblestone street was illuminated by lanterns in dark metal braid on cast-iron poles. One or two yellow carriages flashed by, as I clearly saw, they were pulled by four-legged silhouettes very similar to a cat-horse behind me.

And in the rays of light from lanterns and numerous luminous windows, even more of the same four-legged creatures walked along the sidewalk. Dozens, if not hundreds.

I recoiled and pulled the curtain back. Staggering along the wall, I made my way to a chair and fell into it.

“Where I am?” I asked the cat-horse doomedly.

She shook her head. She said a long phrase in a language I didn’t know. I also shook my head, demonstrating misunderstanding.

My stomach chose that moment to loudly grumble to remind me that the last thing it had in it was the sandwich I ate at lunchtime.

The unicorn twitched her ear. I involuntarily blushed.

She asked something again. She must have wondered if I was hungry.

“Eat?” – I asked again. “Well, yes, I’m hungry. Seems”

She looked at me thoughtfully. Nodding with a very human gesture, she disappeared behind the door. Something started clapping and clanking.

I closed my eyes.

Where I am? How did I get here? Is this another planet, or a parallel world, or some other crap with magical talking unicorns instead of humans? How do I get out of here?

There was a clicking sound nearby. I opened my eyes and saw a bowl with a spoon looming in front of the chair in a greenish glow. Quite a familiar look.

I extended my hand cautiously. I looked into the bowl incredulously. Sliced cucumbers and tomatoes did not give the impression of alien vegetables.

I raised the spoon to my mouth and shuddered. Is she trying to poison me now?

I decisively lowered the spoon and handed the bowl to the unicorn.

“ You. Try it first”

She looked blankly. I poked my finger at it, then pretended to lift the spoon to my mouth and chew.

It seemed to help - the cat-horse nodded again, put a spoonful of salad into her mouth with her hoof (how?) and crunched the vegetables appetizingly.

Without any doubt, I began to eat the treat. The salad was not bad. As the spoon scraped along the bottom, I set the bowl on the coffee table.

“Thanks a lot. It was delicious,” I put my hand to my heart and made a bow.

The corners of the unicorn's mouth turned up. It seems that it not only looked like a smile, but actually was one.

Well, contact has been made. Eating together is a sign of trust in many cultures, right?

I caught the eye of the cat-horse. She still remained wary, but at least she no longer tried to press herself into the walls.

“ Evgeniy. Evgeniy Komarov,” I poked myself in the chest with a finger.

The unicorn twitched her ear.

“Alyatara Kiri,” she pointed at herself with her hoof.

Something outside the window

From behind the stage curtain came the sinister laughter of a unicorn.

“Did you think you could stop me, stupid foal? The castle will be mine, and I will build the biggest casino in all of Equestria in its place! And you and your obnoxious sister will die of hunger in the dungeon! And when your gnawed by rats bones are found, I will make a sad face and say: "Oh, what a pity that they did not listen to me and went to wander around the castle"! And now...”

“AAAUUUUURGH!!!”

“What?! Who's there... AAAAAH!!! NO!!! HELP!!!”

In time with the ominous howl of the ghost, a friendly stomping of foals was heard, replacing applause in Equestria. And enthusiastic cries.

“Let’s start now,” Philip rose from the stool.

As if he had overheard, Grand Drape burst into the room.

“Come on, you apes! You wanta rest forever?”

I grimaced. My partner seemed not to notice the insult, pulled back the curtain and looked out onto the stage.

“Another minute and a half, chief. Scene six.”

The stage manager kicked the set.

“I know you, lazy slowpokes! If I don't yell at you, you'll drag out the intermission for at least an hour!”

“We’re ready,” I said through my teeth.

“Thank you, Light Shadow!” came from the stage. “And you, mister, have a good time in the dungeon yourself! Here you will have enough time to think of what to say to the guards!”

The curtain rustled. The actors, led by McSnaffle, began to leave the stage. Philip and I, straining ourselves, grabbed the half-ruined ladder – although plywood, but still heavy – and dragged it into our sidestage.

“He makes me so hateful,” I muttered quietly, so that Grand, who was rushing around the stage and urging the actors on, wouldn’t hear.

“Pfft! This is a theater, dude, everything is a little crazy here. Keep it simple!”

“Well, well. He doesn't bully Mark Paint and Rob like that. Seriously, his problem is that we're human.”

“Oh, you're kidding, dude. He's just a fucking idiot, that's all.”

We dragged the set over, lifted and grabbed the handles of another one – a table with cardboard dishes – and quickly dragged it onto the stage.

“And yet,” I whispered even more quietly, “if he calls me a monkey one more time, I won’t be able to stand it and I’ll punch him thick ear.”

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn't have done that. If we going nuts, we'll be kicked back to camp in no time!”

“I know, I know,” I interrupted myself when Grand leaned closer and began shouting explanations about how and where to set up the table. It wasn’t that we didn’t already know this – the play had been rehearsed and performed more than once – but the earth pony apparently sincerely believed that in three hours we would be able to completely forget the mise-en-scène.

Finally, the fuss ended. The curtains drew, and we plopped down on the benches, catching our breath.

“Friendship is motherfucking magic. God, how do you put up with this bastard?”

“Hey, bro, I'm just not worrying about it. Look, Winnie and Agate are normal guys, I mean, normal ponies. And they're all good with friendship magic and all that stuff. Don't worry so much.”

“Yes, I know. During this time, I myself have made the acquaintance of a couple of wonderful locals... By the way, Phil!”

“Ouch?”

“If I ask for a day off tomorrow again, will you work alone? Then we'll settle the score.”

“Hey, no problem, man, but what does our friend have to say about that? He already yelled at you for asking for time off three times in a row.”

I shrugged.

“Okay, it does not hurt to ask.”

In fact, Grand Drape had a tangible chance of being hurt - with his manner of speaking. If he still tried to restrain himself with the actors, and Philip was slightly protected with his status as an assistant scriptwriter, then I got it three times as much. For inexperience, for my human origin, and for the other three stagehands at the same time.

Hmm. It was spoken of the devil.

“Cough, cough. Grand, can I ask you a question?”

“What?” the gray earth pony spun around as if stung. “What's the matter, Evgeniy? Do you want to slip away from work again?”

“Uh... Well, yes, Grand. I would like to leave tomorrow after the first performance. Philip is ready to replace me...”

“Like hey, lazy monkey! Tomorrow is a full house, we have hard work ahead of us! I want your flat face here half an hour before the start of the day and until the end of the performances, understand? I'm not going to make the audience admire the curtain because the workers have run off to celebrate! For the money you're paid for this, the troupe has a right to expect you to do something useful!”

Calm down, Zhenyok. Calm down. Talking to assholes is your professional business. We've made deals with worse.

“I’m not asking to be paid for this…”

“You'd have the nerve! No time off!”

He turned around and with a sharp clatter rushed off to the dressing rooms, where the prima donna Stage Shine and the comedian Lazzi were once again locked still in a verbal altercation .

Philip patted me on the shoulder.

“Ah, bro, there's one last show left for today, and then we can forget about this mug for another day. By the way, where do you really go all the time?”

“Ah,” I waved it off, “you could say it’s a small side income.”

“Hee-hee. You work part-time as a pony brusher, or something?”

“Uh... not exactly. Okay, I'll go help Gobo with the spotlights before he complains about us to the gray asshole,” I quickly changed the subject.

I don't even know why I chose to remain silent. Either from a superstitious fear of bring bad luck, or from an earthly habit of not sharing a good idea. Of course, it is unlikely that Philip would have wanted and been able to repeat our work - I was very lucky that there were ponies willing to take on the research, and there was Alyatara willing to help bring them together. But the reflex still worked.

“Okay, it’s less stressful for me,” Philip shrugged. “By the way, buddy, how about a little relaxation after work? Let’s hit the pub, grab a pint…”

“No, sorry. Today and tomorrow I really don't have time.”

“Too bad. Well then, sometime during the week?”

“Perhaps, yes.”

Ferrier Hill was crowded today, despite the late hour. Music was coming from every other alley, ponies in grinning, fanged, deathly pale, coal-black masks wandered the streets. Many, especially the foals, dressed up in full masquerade costumes, from bunnies and lions to pirates, knights and astronauts. Between the houses stretched shining garlands with lanterns in the shape of tiny skulls. Every now and then my gaze fell on brightly painted market stalls and attractions in the squares.

No, I remembered Alyatara's words about the holiday. And today's theater repertoire was clearly chosen with it in mind. But I didn't expect the carnival to take on such a scope.

Against this background, even my human appearance was not noticeable. The crowd was in no hurry, as usual, to part in front of the otherworldly monster. A couple of times I had to, it's scary to say, push my way through the crush!

Finally, a familiar entrance loomed ahead, and behind it, the now familiar landing.

Alyatara opened the door without asking who was behind her. The unicorn's mane was wrapped in a terry towel, and she was holding a bag of sweets with her hoof.

“Oh! Is that you?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” actually, come to think of it, the unicorn could have actually invited her friends...

She shook her head.

“No one, except the neighbors' kids. It's time to start collecting candy from apartment to apartment.”

“Candies?”

“Yes, it's an ancient custom. Then they are supposed to be ceremoniously sacrificed to Nightmare Moon, so that she won't hurt anyone that night... Come in, come in!”

I threw off my jacket and took off my shoes. I went to wash my hands. Meanwhile, the unicorn put the kettle on the stove and telekinetically dropped the candies on the table.

“We were waiting for you in the workshop.”

“Yes, I'm sorry, please. I couldn't get away this time.”

“A rush of spectators, huh?” the pony asked understandingly. “And Bronze and Remy were in a hurry to get home too. But we left a note on the door! Honestly!”

I squeezed past her and plopped down on a chair by the window, grabbing some toast and butter from the fridge on the way.

“Well, you did the right thing. We wouldn't have managed to do much anyway so late.”

“By the way,” Alyatara smiled, “the writings are in perfect order, and the refills still work. Even the ones we left on the table. Remi said she wants to wait a couple more days to be sure, but I have no doubt that we succeeded!”

Just as I was biting into my sandwich, the doorbell rang again.

“Well,” the pony laughed. She picked up the bag.

"Trick or treat, miss!" several foals' voices cried out in unison. A small dragon hung flapping its wings from the ceiling of the staircase (its wings, unlike its head and tongues of fire, were real), a wolf mask grinned with its red mouth, another foal pulled on scaly armor and a helmet with a red plume...

Alyatara, smiling, handed the children a bag of sweets.

“Thank you!” shouted the pegasus dressed as a dragon. “Oh! Are you dressing up for the holiday too?”

I didn't even really know what to say.

“Cool suit, sir or mare! You look like a real monster! It's magical, right?”

“Can you growl?” the filly dressed as a wolf asked timidly.

Alyatara and I looked at each other. I shrugged. I raised my hands and let out the most terrible roar I could muster.

It seemed that now the children realized that they were not dealing with a costume. The company, squealing, rushed down the stairs. However, it seemed to me that the squeal was more enthusiastic than frightened.

"There are still a few candies left in the buffet," Alyatara said, barely holding back her laughter. "We can have some tea with them, or we can join the festivities and take them to the nearest statue. One was erected today in the neighboring park!"

“The statue?”

“Yes, the statue of Nightmare Moon. Ouch!” She blushed. “You don't know, do you? It's an old custom. Collected sweets are supposed to be left in front of her statue, so that she won't hurt any of the ponies! They say that in Ponyville and Canterlot, Luna herself sometimes takes on a scary appearance and appears before the townsponies, but here in Manehattan they make do with the statues.”

I shook my head.

“I've had enough of scaring the kids. Alyatara...”

“Ouch?” the pony perked up her ears.

“This holiday, Nightmare Night – was it ever called Halloween? Or All Saints' Day?

The unicorn became thoughtful. Absentmindedly, she poured tea into the cups.

“Halloween... Halloween... No, I haven't heard of it. Although... I saw an article that said that humans on Earth have holidays similar to ours. Is this one of them?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. Only here we usually make lanterns out of pumpkins.”

“From a pumpkin? What do you mean?”

I threw the soft, Turkish delight-like taffy into my mouth and started working my jaws.

“Well, look. You take a pumpkin, cut off the top, scrape out the middle. Here and here,” I drew a circle in the puddle of tea with my finger, “you cut out eyes and teeth. Then you put a candle inside, light it...”

“Got it. It's like our nightmare lanterns, right?”

“Almost the same. Only they are usually not hung, but placed on the windowsill.”

Alyatara's eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Listen! The greengrocer's shop down the block is open late. I'm sure they have pumpkins!”

I laughed.

“Are you suggesting we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

I chuckled.

“Let's go! Then we'll grab some candy.”

The noisy crowd picked us up and pulled us into the stream almost immediately. We were almost torn apart in different directions, and when Alyatara and I got out of the crowd, we found ourselves very far from the intended greengrocer's shop, but right next to the much-talked-about statue. Depicting a unicorn with ominously outstretched wings (an alicorn, I corrected myself!). Every now and then another group of children would trot up to the statue and leave another handful of candies on the lawn.

"Where will they go after the party?" I asked. I meant the candies, not the foals.

"The city workers will collect it and give it to orphanages," Alyatara said, panting. "So! We were going to the store? If so, it's in the wrong direction!"

Luckily for us, some kind of movement spontaneously organized in the park opposite – either throwing balls for accuracy, or catching apples from a barrel. The ponies rushed there, and the passage cleared up a bit. Having learned from bitter experience, we tried to hold on to each other (even if in our case it was difficult for anatomical reasons – Alyatara could only grab my shirt with her teeth, and I could only grab her mane). And in the end both disheveled and neighing like horses (in one case it was almost not a metaphor!), we tumbled into the shop, managing not only not to lose each other, but also not to trample each other's feet. An epic victory, in my opinion.

The old greengrocer reacted to our appearance with Olympian calm. Perhaps on a night like this, he wouldn't even be surprised by the appearance of an alien in the shop. With a pony on his arm. Who, in a voice choked with laughter, would demand that he immediately sell them a pumpkin... Wait, oh shit... Anyway, they sold us a pumpkin without asking what the Discord we needed it at one in the morning.

“Why a pumpkin?” Alyatara asked, when we were already climbing the stairs with the pumpkin in our arms.

“Oh, that's an old legend.”

“Will you tell me? Please!”

“No problem. Just let's sort out the pumpkin.”

The fuss with the pumpkin took longer than expected. The vegetable was quite large, and even with two of us, pushing each other by the arm, we scraped out the pulp and carved out the scary face for about twenty minutes. Then the problem with the lack of candles arose. Alyatara rummaged through her belongings and found candles and matches in the farthest corner. It immediately turned out that the top of the candle rested against the top of the pumpkin. As a result, the candle had to be cut in half and secured with wax to an iron bowl for stability.

“Attention!” I struck a match. Alyatara had turned off the electricity in advance.

The room was lit up with a red glow. The candlelight reflected off the inner walls, taking on a scarlet hue, and it seemed that the toothy face was really looking at us with orange-red eyes. And grinning with a fiery mouth.

Alyatara sniffed.

“Mmm... Listen, I know exactly what we'll do with this pumpkin after the holiday!”

“What?”

“Pumpkin pie,” the unicorn licked her lips.

I laughed, now feeling the sweet, delicious smell of baked pulp floating around the apartment.

“So what's the story?” We plopped down on the sofa.

“Well, begin. Once upon a time there lived a farmer named Jack. He was a notorious sly man, a rogue, and a swindler...”

“... And so Jack went down to the gates of hell and began to knock on them. But as soon as he saw Jack on the threshold, the devil shouted: "Get away! It's enough that you fooled me once, I don't want to see you here!"

"But where can I go?" asked Jack. "It's so dark here that even with my head on my shoulders I would likely to lose my way! Give me at least a little light so I can find my way back to earth!"

Then the devil snatched a piece from the coals under one of the cauldrons where the sinners were roasting and threw it into the pumpkin. Then he handed it to Jack, saying, "Take that and get out of here!"

Jack thanked him politely, placed the pumpkin on his shoulders in place of his severed head, and wandered back. Since then, banished from both heaven and hell, he has wandered the night roads and searched for his head.”

Alyatara looked at the pumpkin smiling at us from the windowsill.

“The devil, as I understand it, is an evil spirit like Discord? Well, until he was reformed?”

I shrugged.

“Well, something like that.”

“It’s still not very clear what the pumpkin has to do with it,” she said. “However… I remember my grandmother’s stories about how she and her peers in the village would carve nightmare lanterns out of turnips. It was almost the same thing, only smaller in size.”

“In the village?”

“Well, yeah. It's a couple of days away, closer to Canterlot. Dad then moved from there to the suburbs of Manehattan, they still live there.”

“You never talked about your family.”

“And you about yours too... Oh. Sorry,” with a guilty expression on her face, Alyatara placed her hoof on my palm.

“It’s okay,” I said, staring at the wall. “It’s okay. I still have to get used to this idea.”

We were silent. The candle on the windowsill crackled quietly.

"And these pumpkins, do you light them to ward off this devil? Instead of Nightmare Moon?" the unicorn asked, her tone slightly overly curious.

However, I was grateful to her for this. I myself needed a distraction.

“Well, something like that. One of the peoples of the Earth had a holiday - Samhain - in honor of the autumn equinox. They believed that on this day the dead return to earth to look at their loved ones. And so that no evil spirit would slip after them, they lit these lanterns to scare it away. Although I may have something mixed up, I've never been interested in the details... Listen!”

“Ouch?”

“Tell me some of your scary stories. I want to compare how similar they are to the ones on Earth.”

Alyatara smiled.

“How opportune!”

She jumped off the couch, clattered her hooves to the closet, pulled out a thin paperback book with telekinesis, shook it, lighting the firefly lamp.

“I bought it at a thrift store a couple of days ago. Just in time for Nightmare Night.”

I looked curiously at the picture on the cover - an earth pony turns around in fear, and from the darkness behind his shoulders emerges a dark shadow with glowing eyes. The inscription on the cover read: "Bitter Birch. Crippled Hoof and Other Stories."

“Sit closer, so we can both read!” Alyatara climbed back, lay down diagonally on the sofa, resting her shoulder on my thigh. She leaned the book on my knee.

The pages rustled.

" I should have been wary already when I saw the suspiciously low price in the ad. But that day I was only happy. The house, I reasoned, was probably dilapidated and had a leaky roof, which is why the owners were renting out the room for such a ridiculous handful of bits...

…And then I started running faster than I had ever run in my life. To run away from this village, from this damned house. I ran until a fire burned in my chest, until my legs began to give way – and then I ran after that. I ran until, out of breath, I burst into the station and hastily bought a train ticket to the farthest part of Equestria.

More than half a year has passed since then. I did not even dare to send for my modest belongings. I found new housing and work in Las Pegasus, and this story would have remained a nightmare for me…

If it weren’t for one thought that haunts me day and night.

The old pony said that Grogar's creature would come for me if I tried to leave the village. And he said that it would return to sleep after it had fed again.

He didn't say that once it got the sacrifice, Crippled Hoof would let me go.

Where did my former unsociability go? I became a regular at parties and the life of the party. I spend days and nights on busy streets, and every now and then I sit in cafes and ask to stay overnight with friends. Just so as not to be alone for a minute.

And when I am forced to, I lock all the doors, close the shutters on the windows and draw the strongest curtains.

And then I can’t fall asleep until the morning, listening to the night noises.

Every minute I expect to hear a familiar grinding sound outside the window.

And, to see when I pull back the curtain the skinless face of Crippled Hoof pressed against the glass.

The book closed with a rustle, Alyatara finished reading. She shuddered.

“Brrr,” she muttered.

“It’s a creepy story,” I admitted quite sincerely. “Although I’ve read something similar here. I’ve watched movies more often, of course.”

“Show this in a movie theater? But what's the point? Being scared in a big crowd... somehow not very scary.” the pony asked, puzzled.

I laughed.

“We have small cinemas. The size of your radio. You can put one of these in your home and be scared enough.”

“Then it’s clear,” nodded Alyatara. She thought about something.

"That's what I don't understand about these horror stories," she said. "If the main character knew that the old pony was feeding the guests to Grogar's monster, why didn't he go to the guards? Even if the guards couldn't handle the monster themselves, they could have called Princess Celestia, and how could any monster compete with her?"

I shrugged.

“Conventions of the genre, probably,” and I froze. From the thought that came to my mind.

“Evgeniy?”

I looked at the unicorn.

It suddenly dawned on me.

I am now in the most natural magical land, and a real, live, magical horse lies right next to me.

Here they control the dawn, the weather and the sunset with sorcery. And why not here…

“Wait a minute... Are you saying that this story can be real? Such creatures can actually exist here?”

Alyatara looked up at me.

“Well... Grogar definitely existed. Only a long time ago, more than a thousand years ago. And he really did create many monsters. Could anyone have survived to our time...” she snorted. “Certainly not in Manehattan, and the princess would definitely have restrained any monster that came here!

“It sounds reassuring,” I forced a smile. In reality, it wasn’t so…

The candle hissed, the fire in the pumpkin flickered and went out.

The wind howled outside the window.

Something scratched persistently at the kitchen window.

“Oh,” Alyatara said, stunned.

I swallowed.

Suddenly discovering that she and I pressed very closely together.

So close that I can feel her heart beating rapidly.

“It’s… it’s the wind, right?” the pony muttered. “Just the wind?”

The grinding sound was repeated.

“Just the wind,” I said, trying my best not to chatter my teeth.

We looked at each other.

“I guess… I guess I should go check,” the pony said uncertainly.

I nodded and stood up.

“Eh... And you sure...”

“Everything’s fine,” I answered with false confidence in my voice. “I’ll go and… close the window tighter.”

Involuntarily looking for that very mop that almost got me on the first day of our acquaintance. And suppressing the desire to arm myself with it.

Judging by the look in Aliatara's eyes, she was thinking the same thing.

Step into the hallway. Step into the kitchen. If anything, there's a good, sharp knife in the desk drawer...

The grinding noise again. Stronger and louder.

Is it just me? Or is there something crooked, shapeless and dark looming behind the glass?

Taking a deep breath, I resolutely opened the doors.

And I almost burst out laughing.

Looking at a branch broken by the wind with fallen leaves, resting against the glass.

“Evgeniy?

“I'm here! And I caught him!”

“Who?”

“A monster!”

The hooves clattered.

Alyatara stared at the branch in my hands.

A second later we burst out laughing. Absolutely in sync.

And we laughed until we slid down to the floor, hugging.

"Crippled Hoof," Alyatara sobbed. "Grogar's monster! Nightmare Night!"

“Monsters and horrors!” I picked up. “Scary stories!”

The unicorn wiped her eyes with her hoof.

“Celestia, I'm going to have nightmares now! I hope Princess Luna isn't too busy tonight!”

“If you scream in your sleep, I’ll wake you up,” I promised.

“Okay then,” the unicorn smiled.

She got up and disappeared into the room. She reappeared, taking a candle that had burned down to a stub out of the pumpkin as she went.

“It seems the wax hasn’t spread much,” she said, looking inside.

“Let’s leave it in the fridge as is, and cut off the pulp tomorrow,” I suggested.

“Let's.”

Alyatara glanced at the watch.

“It's four o'clock! Listen, do as you wish, but I really need to sleep.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I pulled off my pants and shirt, spreading out the bedding on my couch.

“Evgeniy?”

“Yes?”

“Nightmare Night was great, wasn't it?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night.”

From the bath

How did it all start?

It seems that I decided to take a bath.

Well, you can imagine how it is. When you return home after a working day spent on the hooves (alas, the work of a artist-designer is an office job only in theory... and in practice, a day spent with a sketchbook can be as exhausting as running around the nature), one of the greatest pleasures is to draw water, stand into the bathroom and feel how warm streams run through the fur. And then, with a groan of bliss, dive into the water and feel how the cramped muscles of the shoulders and neck are relaxing...

You feel safe. You relax. You don't think about anything...

You certainly don’t think that a screaming, bare-skinned, unfamiliar creature will suddenly emerge from under the water right in your bathtub!

I screamed. Jumped up. Tried to kick the stranger where I could. And at the same time jump out of the bathroom.

Very in vain.

Because the water tap had a different opinion.

Stars flashed before my eyes. My legs buckled. I tried to suck in air and inhaled water. Began to twitch and wheeze in horror...

And only after a few seconds (minutes? hours?), spitting and coughing on the bathroom floor (sorry, for the sake of Celestia, Miss Golden Lessor!), it seems like half the bath, I realized that I was lying with my chest on the side and somebody looking at me from above...

Somebody.

Minotaur?

They looks like (two-legged, two-armed, upright), but no. Smooth, pale, hairless (except for some semblance of a mane on top of the head) skin. The head is devoid of horns and generally bullish features, and is more reminiscent of a monkey.

I myself didn’t notice how I hid in a corner, looking at the stranger with wide eyes. Remembering Discord, Celestia and Faust the Prime Creator all at once.

Who is this?

Burglar? Snuck into the apartment while I was splashing around? Has it really become so bad in Manehattan that thieves are sneaking into homes without being embarrassed by the owner?

The creature looked around in shock. They looked... confused for the burglar. Or is they wondering how to steel?

Run! Raise alarm with neighbors!

I rushed to the door, expecting that they would grab me by the mane. Using telekinesis, I tore the key off the shelf and inserted it into the keyhole with the teeth.

Damn it!

Why did the ancient lock stuck at this very moment?

I leaned on the key. Something clicked inside. The key seemed to give way, and then it swung suspiciously freely in the hole. The lock did not respond to attempts to open.

There was a creak.

I turned around in horror.

The non-minotaur stood in the corridor.

I run away from the door, dropping the key.

I rushed past the uninvited guest, expecting that a hoofless paw was about to grab my mane.

I moved past the toilet and kitchen into the bedroom and hid in a corner. Looking around madly and trying to figure out how to hit the villain if he gets closer to me.

Mop! I swear the Celestia, if he comes into the room, I'll knock him over the head!

Really, do I have the strength to levitate a mop at such a distance from myself? I’m still an artist, not a magician, the limit of my skills is telekinesis of small objects at a distance of a step or two...

Oh, mom! Looks like now I'll have a chance to check it out!

The stranger took a step into the room...

Oh. I remembered where I heard about such creatures!

Oh. Oh. Oh. It would better be a minotaur! Much better!

I concentrated. Focused on the mop. Channeled the energy. Swung menacingly...

Or rather, depicted something like a poke in the direction of the monster. Who wrapped one of my towels around his hips for some reason.

The monster's jaw dropped.

Looking at the mop with eyes the size of the Mare Statue, he reached out his paw and touched the mop with his finger in disbelief.

At this moment my little strength came to an end, and I lost the mop from the field's grasp. Almost knocking off the monster's leg.

Yes. I have remembered. Appeal from the Princess of Friendship, which was reprinted by our newspaper. And a photography of the same, or very similar, creature, attached to it.

Human.

A half-forgotten myth from ancient history. In the last three years, suddenly acquired flesh and blood. When a horde of these monsters overwhelmed distant Ponyville.

When humans invaded Equestria.

Humans are ferocious and cruel.

Humans come from a world where bloody wars are raging.

Humans have destroyed all other sentient species in their world, and now they are forever at war with themselves.

Humans devour meat like griffins or diamond dogs.

Humans eat pony meat.

Humans are not averse to abusing the filly before gobbling it up...

A-A-A!!!

“Don’t come near me,” I muttered. “In the name of Celestia... get away! Away!”

The monster that devours fillies and stallions before rape them (or vice versa?) took two unsteady steps across the room. He staggered and fell like a bag into my chair.

My favorite chair, by the way.

He doesn't look very aggressive...

And what is he handing me?

Keys? Keys to the lock?

I stared at it in disbelief.

Concentrated. The distance was a long, but the fear gave me strength.

Using telekinesis, I grabbed the key from the monster’s paw, pulled it closer and took it with my teeth.

“Don’t touch me,” I breathed out, slurring my tongue. “Please don't touch”

Stand up. A step along the wall, another... The human didn’t even move, only following my movements with his eyes.

Corridor. Door.

And the key slips back in with a soft click instead of turning in the hole.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Why now?”

I'm locked in an apartment with an alien monster.

Squeal? In the hope that the neighbors will hear through the thin walls?

So.

What did it say in the memo that Princess Twilight sent to the editor?

“Having noticed a human, try to hide from sight without attracting their attention, and warn the nearest employee of the Friendship and Unity Committee of Kingdom as soon as possible. Not all humans are dangerous, but some of them, when scared or aggressive, can harm themselves or ponies. If a human notices you and you cannot avoid contact with them, remain calm. Speak to the human in a calm tone, without approaching and avoiding long-term eye contact. Show moderate friendliness and remember that through the ideals of Friendship and Harmony...”

Sounds like yelling at the top of my lungs isn't a good idea. If this creature gets scared...

Okay, let's try to follow the suggested tips.

To begin with, it doesn't hurt to turn on the light.

And dry myself! There is still dripping from my fur onto the floor, and the landlady will charging me a tidy sum for repairing the parquet flooring!

I carefully looked into the bedroom.

The human did not start destroying the situation, throwing himself at the walls, or doing any other human things. He was still sitting in the chair and looking into nowhere with a fixed gaze.

Looked sideways at me.

I carefully flicked the switch. I had trouble charging the crystal lamp, so I preferred the newfangled electric lighting. I fished a spare towel out of the closet.

The human staggered to his feet. I pulled back, but he was not walking in my direction. He went to the window and stared at the evening Ferrier Hill.

So. It seemed that this sight was very different from the usual battlefields of his home world. He shuddered, stepped back, drew the curtain and along the wall, just like I had five minutes ago, reached the chair.

He muttered something.

“What?” I moved my ear. “Sorry, I don’t understand you. You don't speak Equestrian, right? You probably don’t even understand where you are?” I tried to speak in a calm tone. The main thing is not to show a person your fear, otherwise this sight will make him furious...

We can only hope that he will not notice my treacherously shaking fetlocks.

The answer was a loud rumbling.

Oh!

“You... you’re not going to eat me, are you?” I said in a trembling voice. “I... can feed you! I have food!”

The human said something. I backed away without taking my eyes off him. Nodded, hoping to at least make it clear that I was not the only dinner in the apartment.

Rushed to the kitchen and frantically began find anything in the refrigerator.

Of course, there couldn't have been any fish or meat there. There are no griffins among my friends. Who knows how a predatory sapiens will react if I offer him a heyburger? Will he bite me by the throat?

"Think!" I told myself. It seems that that memo said that people can eat vegetables and fruits.

I just had a bowl of salad prepared for dinner - it had been standing since yesterday, but it seemed like it hadn’t had time to dry up. I grabbed it from the shelf with telekinesis and rushed into the bedroom.

The human accepted the treat. He peered suspiciously. He handed it back to me and said something. Then he pantonymized it as if he was chewing.

Is this how he wants to treat me?

Or is he hinting that he prefers ponies for dinner?!!

And, probably, in their world you cannot try any food without making sure that there is no poison in it.

I obediently put a spoonful of salad in my mouth. And then I remembered that I had eaten for the last time in the morning, when I ate a bun with coffee on the way to the office. It's a pity to remain hungry, but it's clearly better than being eaten!

Meanwhile, the human emptied the plate with enviable speed. He scraped the last pieces of cucumber from the edges of the dish, put it on the table and made a kind of bow.

Hm. He doesn't seem very dangerous.

Maybe I can even become friends with him.

I smiled timidly. I immediately regretted it - what if in a culture of predators a grin means aggression? But it seems that the human interpreted my smile correctly - and even made an attempt to respond in kind.

“Yev’eni,” he said, pointing at himself with one of his non-hooves. “Yev’eni Komaro”.

“Stargaze Winter,” I answered.

Author's Note

Yes, there was Royal Agency of Friendship and Assimilation (Biology and Linguistic Kernel) originally ;)

The problem of understanding

“Eokyaz. Eokyaz“

I stared at the book floating in the air in front of me. The book was open to the flyleaf, which showed a map of the hemispheres.

With unfamiliar continents.

It seems that the theory about the parallel world just got a couple hundred points on top.

Holy shit.

Just like in some Japanese porn cartoon. Something like "I dove into my own bathtub and found myself in the universe of Talking Magical Unicorns!"

Or would such a title be more suitable for some American cartoon for girls under twelve, like the ones my cousin niece loves?

“Nya, kawaii, “ I muttered under my breath.

The cat-horse - Alyatara? - made a questioning sound. I shook my head. The only thing I needed right now was to explain to her the intricacies of the plot of Japanese animation and the cultural code associated with them without knowing the language.

“Ekayz?“ I asked again, pointing my finger at the book. Belatedly noticing that my finger was enveloped in a greenish glow, and feeling a slight tickle on my skin. As if I had stuck my hand in a glass of soda.

Alyatara shook her head. - Eokyaz. Eokeyrati.

She tilted her head. Pointed her horn at one of the continents. Probably referring to the place where we were?

I pointed my finger there. Described a large circle around myself. Looked questioningly at Alyatara.

She nodded happily, saying a few more words in the same incomprehensible language. Well, probably the same. I didn't understand anything anyway.

I dove into my own bathtub and found myself on a planet of alien green unicorns.

Holy shit.

This can't be.

My bathtub is not some kind of magical portal or stargate made of naquadah.

Stop!

I stood up abruptly. Alyatara must have gotten tired of holding the book in the air and dropped it on the armrest of the chair, so that the sudden movement sent it flying to the floor. The cat-horse shuddered.

“Uh… I want to try something,” I explained, as if I could be understood.

Whether she understood what I said or not, Alyatara followed me.

The drain was plugged with a stopper (is it just me, or is it really cast iron? I couldn’t resist checking with my finger, feeling the metal), so the water didn’t have time to drain, although it cooled down a little.

Oh well.

“Maybe you’ll turn away?” I asked, feeling a little awkward. Also without much hope for a result. The unicorn, of course, shook her head in confusion.

Okay, I can’t push her out of her own bathroom. And at last. She had already seen my bare butt, and anyway, it was stupid to be embarrassed by an alien creature who probably didn't even know that it was not customary for humans to walk around naked.

I unrolled the towel. Stepped over the edge. Sat down.

Took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. Stretched out, submerging myself completely.

The bottom of the tub was hard, the water was cool, and the portal between the worlds was in no hurry to open.

I conscientiously stayed under the water until my ears started to buzz. And for another minute or two after that, until a blue hoof poked through the water and gently tapped me on the shoulder.

Phffuuhhh!!!

I started breathing, feeling my heart pounding from lack of oxygen. I shook my head, pouring water out of my ears.

”Ka'ho teaso ri-hari o?”

Alyatara must have realized what I was trying to do. At least there was a clear note of sympathy in her voice.

I glanced sideways at her.

”Oh. At least I appreciate the kind words.”

I stood up, dried myself with a towel again and wrapped myself in it.

It looks like this thing doesn't work the other way.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Well, of course, it's kind of cool. To be the first person to see another planet and meet aliens. But I still have family on Earth. I still have friends. Who in a couple of days will start wondering where I went. I still have a collection of games on Steam, I still have the unwatched eighth season of Game of Thrones, I still have a contract to sell a line of office souvenirs to our local branch of a federal network, for which I was supposed to get a list of delivery points tomorrow...

Damn. I still have an unclosed shower, which in a couple of days will drive me into exorbitant water bills!

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I hid my face in my hands and giggled like an idiot.

When I finished laughing and raised my head, Alyatara had already backed away to the far wall of the corridor.

I can understand her. I myself, probably, having heard my own laughter, would have decided that I was dealing with a complete psychopath.

”Sorry,” I squeezed out. ”I didn't want to scare you again. Listen, it looks like everything is working out in such a way that I will have to stay here with you for a while.”

Alyatara jerked. Her gaze slid somewhere to the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a faint green flash around the keyhole.

And the rhythmic jingling of the key in it.

Hmm.

A familiar sound.

I looked at the key more closely. The green glow faded, Alyatara recoiled and backed away towards the room, clicking her hooves.

”May I?... ” I asked for decency, pointing my finger at the key. The cat-horse responded with a tirade of sounds that meant nothing to me.

The key turned under my fingers with a weak click over and over. The door remained locked.

Hmm.

I took the key out of the keyhole and looked at it thoughtfully.

Turned to the cat-horse.

”Do you have a pencil? You know... Pencil? Paper? To write?” I pretended to write with my finger on my palm.

She tilted her head with a thoughtful expression on her face. Nodded. She ran to the far end of the corridor, stopped at another door.

Looked at me expectantly.

I followed. The door creaked, the switch clicked.

Oh.

Another room was the same size as the one with the sofa. Completely empty, except for wide shelves and... what do artists call this thing? An easel? One wall is completely covered with a thick curtain...

And the other three are completely covered with paintings.

I stared at the canvas hanging directly opposite the entrance.

For a second, it seemed to me that I was looking through an opening made in the wall.

Opening into a cold winter night.

I even heard the ringing rustle of snowflakes in the wind. I felt the smell of snow and spruce branches. I felt the cold bite my cheeks...

I shook my head, and the illusion disappeared.

It was just a painting of a snowy mountain slope covered with forest and a starry sky above it.

And I can't even say that it was accurate in the details - the fir branches were outlined with some blurry brushstrokes, the stars were uneven dots on a black background with iridescent colors...

But for some reason I still felt my face being burned by the frost when I looked away from the details and looked at the picture as a whole.

"Wow. Just wow," I muttered under my breath.

I was never interested in all sorts of scribbles and doodles. When they tried to take me into a museum, I kicked against in every possible way. Even in school, I sincerely believed that all sorts of admiration from art critics was mutual showing off and a way to sell the painting for more.

Now a doubt has crept into my soul that perhaps I was wrong.

Alyatara, standing by the shelves, quietly said something.

Damn. Honestly, she smiled embarrassedly.

And even, it seems, blushed. Don't ask me how fur can turn red.

The puzzle came together. Another dozen canvases on the walls, all with the same plot - night, snow, stars... Jars, brushes, pencils and some incomprehensible gadgets on the shelves, an easel. At the same time, an embarrassed and at the same time - satisfied expression on her face.

”This... is this your painting?”

She blushed even more. No, of course, maybe I'm interpreting alien facial expressions incorrectly... But honestly, those huge eyes and embarrassed smile - it's hard to interpret any other way!

”Very beautiful. Really,” I pointed to the painting.

She looked down. Said something, pointing with her hoof to her... let's say, to her thigh.

I took a closer look. I had already noticed something like a picture flashing on Alyatara's side. But at that moment, my overloaded with the meeting with the alien guest (oh, wait, or rather, the alien guest here is certainly not her) brain, simply no longer focused on looking at the tattoos on the alien ass.

On the aquamarine hairs, an image was drawn in a few strokes. On a dark blue background - several schematic silver stars. Below - also schematically depicted blue snowflakes. And next to it - a wide open eye with long eyelashes.

I shrugged. The tattoo (or whatever it was), apparently had some relation to the paintings. But what exactly was meant, I did not understand.

And I remembered what I was going to do.

”May I?” I extended my hand and took a thick, sharply sharpened pencil from the shelf. I gestured to Alyatara that I wanted to break off the tip. She nodded, looking surprised. I crunched the lead, looked around for a ballpen. I didn't see a single one. Okay, we'll make do.

I repeated the pantomime with a sheet of paper from a notebook with a cardboard cover and a heavy thing of an incomprehensible appearance. With a smooth wooden handle and a semicircular base made of some kind of stone like marble, on which it rocked like a child's rocking horse.

I bent the sheet of paper with the lead, carefully hit it with the stone thing from above, pressed it down, crushing it into crumbs. Carefully picked up the sheet, trying not to scatter dust.

”Well, at least we won't break it.”

I returned to the corridor. Alyatara seemed to have forgotten that she was afraid of me - now she was watching my manipulations with interest, almost getting her curious muzzle under my elbow.

The corner of the sheet - into the keyhole. Tilt, blow. Make sure the graphite chips fall into the right places.

Now – wait a couple of minutes.

I headed back to the studio (is that what it’s called, I think?). I put the sheet of paper on the corner of the shelf, stopped by the wall, and looked at the canvases more closely.

The general theme had not changed. Night, snow, stars…

But the details were different.

A couple more paintings – the same forest landscapes. The third one – a mountain peak rising into the sky in the moonlight. A fire burns brightly in the middle of the night forest. The windows of a small hut glow in the night. A chain of creatures similar to Aljatara herself, dressed in thick fur blankets, makes their way along the snowy path. A decorated Christmas tree shines brightly in the middle of the thicket.

Stop!

A Christmas tree?!!

Isn’t this some kind of parallel world or something? Alien unicorns? What is an earthly Christmas tree doing in the painting?

And this is not a coincidence. Garlands, balls, lights – in this painting the details were drawn quite clearly, I could even discern the figure of a… winged horse crowning the top? Yes, a tiny shiny horse with a horn and wide-spread wings.

I turned to Alyatara. Pointed my finger at the painting.

”What is this? ”

Another series of words that meant nothing to me. I rubbed my forehead.

So.

If the local creatures, whoever they are, know what New Year is…

Then it is quite possible that they know about the Earth itself?

And who knows? Maybe they know how I can get back?

My heart began to beat faster.

”Let's try,” I said half to Alyatara, half to myself.

Click. The key turns in the keyhole with a slight effort, the deadbolt pin obediently enters the grooves.

The door opened a crack.

”Well, that's it,” I pointed my finger at the lock. ”To be honest, it would be a good idea to blow it out and lubricate it properly. But it should last a few days anyway.”

Alyatara looked thoughtfully from the door to me. Her face acquired an indecisive expression.

Feeling a surge of curiosity, I looked outside.

A small landing on one of our doors, on the far wall - a tiny window. Under the ceiling, a dim light of a strange blue-green light from a bulb of the same unusual shape. Is it just me, or does the light come from tiny shining dots swirling inside the glass?

The walls are uneven, made of large red stone, without any hint of paint or plaster. No sounds are heard, even street noise is guessed at the edge of audibility.

And in it - not the slightest hint of the hum of cars.

A blue hoof carefully touched my shoulder.

I shuddered. Looked back at Alyatara, who had risen to her hind legs.

She bit her lip.

”Evgeniy. Ho'a,” she suddenly blurted out.

”What? Sorry, I don't understand you.”

She shook her head. Suddenly she jumped up and galloped off in the direction of the studio.

Damn. Definitely need to learn the local language.

Maybe magical unicorns aren't allowed to go out in a towel? Like you can walk around your apartment as you want, but when you go outside, you have to observe decency?

Only now did it dawn on me that I may have made a serious mistake. Was it worth helping Alyatara with a jammed lock?

After all, I don't know anything about where I ended up. I have no idea how Alyatara will behave next. Maybe now that the door is open, she'll rush for help? Who knows what's customary in this world with alien visitors?

Alyatara returned to the sound of hoofbeats. She had a notepad and another pencil clenched in her teeth. A green light flashed, and both objects rose into the air.

The pencil quickly darted across the paper.

If I had any doubts before about who the author of the paintings was, now there were none. With just a few movements, Alyatara drew a fairly accurate image of a man from the waist up. It seemed he even looked like me.

And she continued drawing. A brick wall appeared around the man. And in it, a barred window, through which the man in the drawing looked.

Clenching the bars in his fists.

Understand the problem

Where to start negotiations with an otherworldly creature? Which may (or may not) be aggressive, which does not understand your language, which does not know where it ended up?

Alas for me. I knew two things about linguistic spells. The first is that they exist. The second is that they are very complex, dangerous, and there are only a few unicorns in all of Equestria who can use them.

I thought about it.

For starters, maybe I should somehow let Yev’eni know that he is no longer in his homeland?

My eye fell on “The Small Atlas of Equestria and Adjacent Lands” that I had bought a year ago. I grabbed it with telekinesis and brought it closer. Opened it to the flyleaf, where the map of the hemispheres was located, and handed it to the human.

“Equus,” I said. Having made sure that I had captured the guest’s attention, I repeated:

“Equus.”

The human looked at the map. He raised his eyes to heaven.

“Nyakova,” he muttered under his breath. Or something like that. It sounded like Kirin, although I knew only a few words of it.

He pointed his finger at the map, causing the magical field to tremble.

“Ekaiz?”

Oh, Holy Sisters, his accent was terrible.

“Equus,” I said more slowly. I pointed to the east coast, near the large point of Manehattan. “Equestria”.

The human repeated my gesture thoughtfully. Then he circled his finger around himself.

“Yes!” I nodded happily, glad that we had at least moved from dead center. “Yes! This is the country and city where you and I are!”

Yev’eni hunched over. He propped his chin on his hand. I felt my magic fizzle out and landed the book on the armrest.

Suddenly Yev’eni jumped up. The atlas fell to the floor, opening in the middle, on a map of Canterlot and the surrounding villages.

I recoiled.

What did I say? Did I say something offensive to him?

Yev’eni looked at me.

He said something incomprehensible, but in a soothing tone. I exhaled.

The human, not paying any more attention to me, disappeared into the hallway. His footsteps came from the bathroom.

What is he doing?

I carefully peeked out from behind the door.

Yev’eni, not paying much attention to me, hypnotized the bathtub with his gaze. He stuck his paw in, apparently checking the water.

What is he doing? Is he going to bathe again?

The man glanced sideways at me, said something. He threw off the towel, really climbed into the bathtub and stretched out on its bottom, immersing himself completely.

Well, almost immersed. His head sank in, but his legs, with his height, remained sticking out on top.

Hmm. Didn't that memo from the princess say that humans are a waterfowl species?

Maybe he has underwater breathing magic, like hippogriffs?

I waited a minute, then another. The man clearly wasn't going to surface.

He wasn't going to drown, was he?

I timidly approached the bathtub.

"Don't do that!!!" my common sense screamed. I carefully, ready to jump back at any moment, delicately patted Yev'eni on the shoulder.

He sat down on the bottom, snorting and shaking himself like a bunyip.

Is this some kind of human custom of taking a bath? Or what?

I mentally kicked myself in the forehead with my hoof. Of course.

If my bathtub suddenly worked as an interdimensional teleport, it would be logical to try to teleport back the same way.

I looked at the bathtub with apprehension. It seemed like no one had ever cast any spells on it, especially such powerful ones.

Now what? Every time I get into the shower, I have to be on guard so I don’t end up in some neighboring universe?

Oh my gosh!

And all that’s left is to sympathize with the human (no matter how dangerous a monster he is!) who suffered this fate.

“You can’t get home?” I asked quietly.

The human looked at me with crazy eyes. He wrapped himself in a towel again, climbing onto the edge of the bathtub.

He burst into wild, insane laughter, covering his face with his paws.

I didn’t even notice how I jumped out of the bathtub and leaned hard against the wall of the corridor.

Holy Celestia… has he really gone completely mad?

Key. Key. Keyhole. Press, carefully turn… what the hay! It’s falling off! Again. Again. Come on, open up, come on!

I was so focused on the telekinesis of the key that I managed to blink at the appearance of a stranger nearby.

And I turned my head only after hearing the apologetic tone.

Jerked to the side.

However, the flash of madness that had seized Yev’eni seemed to have died down. He was looking at the lock with the key sticking out of it with interest. He must have never seen such complex mechanisms before. He looked at me and said something.

Am I judging him too harshly? If I suddenly found myself among a foreign people, not knowing their language, not knowing how to get home... Yes, Faust knows, anypony would lost his marbles.

Meanwhile, Yev’eni managed to get the key and was looking at it with interest. He turned to me again.

He threw out a few words, made a gesture as if he was writing on his palm.

Write? Does he need a pencil and paper?

What, that’s an idea. We can use pictures to explain incomprehensible things to each other. Celestia, how come I didn’t think of that myself?

I moved towards the studio, trying to remember where my favorite pencil set was after my recent sketches. I turned around – the guest was following me.

It’s not very easy to concentrate a telekinetic field in the dark, so I fumbled with the switch with my hoof. The lamp lit up – equipped with an expensive enchanted crystal filter to imitate daylight.

I glanced at the easel with shelves, the nightstand. Ah, here’s my notebook for rough notes, I wouldn’t mind using it for scribbling…

I glanced sideways at Yev’eni.

He froze right in the middle of the studio.

And he looked at my canvas without taking his eyes off.

My muzzle blushed.

I still can’t get used to it… It’s been twelve years since I got my cutie mark, and every time I still feel awkward when ponies look at my paintings like that.

Okay, I know a thing or two about it. Drawing is my special talent, I must admit. But I don’t do anything that another pony couldn’t do if given a brush, paints, and three years of training. I just draw what I start to see two months out of the year, so that other ponies can see it.

The human spoke, and there was admiration in his voice.

I felt the blush creeping down my fur, somewhere around my ears.

“Do you like it?” I muttered. “It’s just a sketch. I called it ‘Winter Evening’, although that’s just a working title. I specialize in winter landscapes, which is why I have a cutie mark like that. Look,” I turned slightly so that the drawing on my side became more visible.

Yev’eni glanced at the mark, puzzled. He shrugged. It dawned on me that an alien from another world might not know what our cutie marks are and what role they play in our lives.

He picked up a pencil from the shelf. Gestured that he wanted to break it.

Thank Celestia – it wasn’t one of my priceless slate pencils, but a simple graphite lead! So I nodded silently, watching the human manipulations with surprise.

Having torn off a sheet of paper from the notebook, the human wrapped the broken piece of graphite in it. He placed a paperweight on top and pressed it well.

He moved back into the corridor.

What is he doing? I rushed after him with curiosity. Which temporarily pushed the fear of the otherworldly monster out the door.

I still didn’t understand what Yev’eni did. He leaned over the lock so that his back blocked my view. There was a faint noise.

The human moved back into the workshop. He put the dirty piece of paper back in its place. Began to look at my canvases with curiosity.

He paused. His flat face showed excitement and joy. He pointed at the “Holiday Tree” and said something.

“Sorry, I don’t understand you,” I responded. “Do you like the painting? I’m waiting for Hearth’s Warming Day to put it up for sale. They always sell better in the months before the holidays. But if you want, take it for yourself, if you like it so much.”

Yev’eni only rubbed his muzzle helplessly.

Road apples! We definitely need to come up with something to understand each other!

Yev’eni worked on the lock again. He carefully pressed something, and a click was heard.

And the door obediently opened, revealing a view of the landing, illuminated by an old firefly lamp.

The alien pointed at it with a satisfied expression and said something.

Had he... fix my lock?

He began to study with interest the completely unremarkable stairwell, which should have been swept clean of dust and cobwebs long ago.

Is he going to go outside?

By Celestia... The first pony who sees him will call the guards!

Of course, that will solve all the problems.

Actually, I should do it myself...

But...

But...

A camp for humans near Ponyville. Operated under the personal management of the Princess of Friendship and her sinister ex-villian apprentice. A place where all humans are sent, except for those few who have been granted personal permission by Twilight to live in Equestria.

A place about which terrible rumors circulate. A lifelong earthly version of Tartarus.

Yev'eni hasn't done anything bad to me yet.

He doesn't seem as dangerous as the stories about humans said...

On the contrary - he selflessly and in a friendly way helped me with the lock. Praised my paintings.

Maybe the stories about the cruelty and ferocity of humans... are exaggerated?

Should I let him go outside - and go to prison? Even before he has done anything bad?

Or am I wrong, and have no right to expose other ponies to danger? Although...

I bit my lip.

Ah, let it go to Tartarus by Discord!

I touched the human's shoulder.

“Yev'eni. Wait.”

He looked at me puzzled, muttered something.

How can I make him understand the problem?

Drawings, you fool pony! Your own idea!

I didn't even notice how I rushed to the workshop and returned with a notebook.

I began to sketch the image on the paper with quick movements. Drawing of a man behind prison bars.

What to do next?

I sat in the same chair, staring hopelessly at the sketches and drawings made by Alyatara. Mechanically sorting through them between my fingers, peering at the smooth, confident lines and strokes, and trying with all my might to figure out what to do next.

Today, for the first time in two days, I was alone in the apartment. Alyatara, half with gestures, half with drawings, managed to explain to me that she had to go to work. Well, at least I assumed that she had to go to work.

Judging by the drawing, which schematically depicted a large stone building, a cat-horse very similar to Alyatara at an easel, and cat-horses coming out of the doors of the building with newspapers/letters/postcards, in general, with some kind of written sheets in their... teeth. Yes, oh my god, in their teeth.

Although, it looks like they were newspapers.

Because there was a newspaper, very similar to ours, that I found on Alyatara's table yesterday morning.

Well, what do I mean similar? With some kind of curly ligature like Arabic script on the pages. On the headings, the ligature broke up into large rounded elements like semicircles, stars, lightning bolts and hearts. Perhaps these were letters?

In some places there were numbers. Which I easily distinguished from letters.

Because, damn it, these were our own, familiar, Arabic numerals!

Well, almost familiar. Somewhere the tail is pointing in the wrong direction, somewhere something is stretched or flattened. But still, recognizing the familiar set - from zero to nine - was not difficult. If it were one number or a letter, I would still assume a coincidence...

How? How?!

I'm in kind of a parallel world or an another planet. They write in incomprehensible gibberish. But they use human numbers?

And on the other hand. If there is a New Year in this world, and one just like ours, with a Christmas tree and garlands, what prevents it from being Arabic numerals?

And there were also black-and-white photographs on the pages of the newspaper.

I grabbed hold of the photograph with a death grip.

Half of the first page was taken up by a large photograph. It depicted a round hall with several rows of chairs. The chairs were filled to capacity with creatures similar to Alyatara, only they had no horns. One of them, standing on a podium in the center of the hall, was peering (reading?) at a sheet of paper lying in front of it. Two or three, rising on their hind legs, were shouting something from the rows and waving their front legs.

A government meeting? A public lecture? Something else?

The second one depicted a port. There was no doubt about it – masts rose above the long, low, windowless buildings, and in the distance a ship could be seen, as if it had come straight out of the pages of the «Tom Sawyer» – large paddle wheels, tall funnels, a pair of masts with furled sails. Crates and barrels were piled up in the foreground, and two more hornless cat-horses were thoughtfully examining them.

The third one depicted… someone. Even three someones. A horned cat-horse like Alyatara. A creature like… er… a bird-horse? It had an eagle’s beak, clawed feet, and was half covered in feathers. On the front one. The back one was hard to see, it was facing the photographer, but it seemed to me that it had at least one horse’s leg. Well, the third creature was a bird-cat – with the same bird-like front half and a cat-like half, with a long lion’s tail with a tassel – on the back. All three were posing against the backdrop of a fountain, with a mountain slope visible behind them.

And on the fourth page, there was an airship hovering over some industrial landscape. A real airship with a pair of some kind of blades like wings or oars. Long black cables stretched from it to the ground, and by the side there were a couple of floating…

Carts. Yes, carts. Each harnessed to four cat-horses. Hanging at a distance of one hundred meters from the ground. It didn’t seem like the cat-horses were very worried about this.

Perhaps because they had wings. Two feathered wings each.

The newspaper fell out of my hands, I closed my eyes and looked again. The flying carts, the flying cat-horses and the flying airship were still there.

Although there was nothing strange about a flying airship for a change.

I looked pitifully at Alyatara. With a silent question in his eyes, I pointed my finger at the photo.

Alyatara grabbed a pencil and paper - the stack of sheets of paper stuck to her hoof, as if magnetized.

She began to explain animatedly. By this time, we had learned about fifty words from each other's languages with great difficulty, and some semblance of a conversation began to take shape.

By the end of the evening, I knew a little more about this world.

The planet was called Eokyaz, the country on it where we were - Eokeyrati. The continent was also called the same, apparently for simplicity.

The population of Eokeyrati was called loti. It was divided into three... peoples? races? species? - in short, kem-loti, pax-loti and cer-loti. Alyatara herself was one of the Cer-loti, whose distinguishing feature was a twisted horn in the middle of the forehead. Pax-loti had wings and could fly – I decided to put the question of how they stayed aloft on not-so-big wings in the back of my mind. Kem-loti were… well, they were just regular cat-horses without horns or wings.

From Alyatara's drawings, the Kem-loti were engaged in growing crops - at least, she drew them plowing (harnessed to a plow, yeah) a wheat field. Or not wheat - the drawing was schematic and depicted a row of stalks. Pax-loti did something connected with rain and clouds (perhaps they predicted the weather?). Cer-loti ... here Alyatara had a pause, she drew a Cer-loti with some kind of winding lines coming from its horn, like radio waves. Then she turned on her telekinetic light, raised a pencil in the air and twirled it in front of me.

Telekinesis? Cer-loti move objects?

The Kem-Loti - here the hostess put the atlas into action - lived in a city called Manis’hata, where we were, and, as far as I understood Alyatara, in several other cities in the eastern part of the country. The city of Pax-Loti (I decided to call them Pegasi. Why? They look alike) was called Difrinkuml and was located somewhere in the northwest, with a dotted line with arrows going around it, encircling the entire Eokeyrati. Probably, this was how the Loti designated some kind of transport route. Cer-Loti (continuing the analogy, I called the Alyatara race unicorns for myself) lived practically in the middle, near a high mountain peak in the center of Eokeyrati. Their city was called Kerkant, and, judging by the large golden crown drawn on it, it was also the capital of the state.

There were also creatures that Alyatara called Elker-Loti. It was one of them, as I understood, that was depicted on the top of the tree. They looked like ordinary horses, even without any special cat features, but with a long horn and wings. Alyatara drew a trinity of Elker-Loti over the country, drew kneeling (for them it looked like they were crouching on their front legs) representatives of all the Loti races, and drew small crowns over each of the Elker-Loti trinity.

Local kings? Feudal lords? Ruling caste? I shook my head.

Alyatara, who had been watching my attempts, began drawing again. She drew a sun with rays in all directions over one of the Elker-Loti. Over the second one - a moon. Over the one in the middle - a six-pointed star. Then she crossed out two Elker-Loti, with the sun and with the moon.

I sighed.

“Listen, I guess you want to tell me something about your politics. But unless you have a coup d'etat here and the Jews have seized power, I don't understand anything.”

“Not understand, Evgeniy? Yes?” "Yes", "No" and "Not understand" were the first words that Alyatara learned in Russian. There was a fourth, but then I felt ashamed that I was unwittingly teaching an alien race such expressions.

“I do not understand, yes,” I responded sadly.

Alyatara drew another Elker-Loti, added a crown and a picture of a heart to it. Next to it was a second winged horse, only several times smaller. She poked her hoof into the drawing.

“Riktara Patnay,” she said. “Grissamira. Gris-Loti.” She pointed first to the top of the map, somewhere near the northern border of Eokeyrati, then drew another kem-loti on the sheet, only covered with tiny stars.

I spread my hands. Looked at Alyatara. “You know, this is all very interesting, I understand that you want to tell me about your world... But let's leave it until I learn to speak yours a little? Okay? Later? You see, later?” I pointed my finger at the atlas and the drawing.

“Evgeniy later,” the unicorn agreed. She stood up. “Evgeniy Alyatara eat? Yes?”

Thank God, by this point I already understood that this was an offer to treat me to dinner, and not to eat me for dinner.

And so the rest of my second day in this world passed. I got a little acquainted with the local geography, social structure and found out that fried potatoes and celery in this world are no different from those on earth. It's even a bit offensive. I was counting on something more exotic, like blue apples or black strawberries.

Well, this morning, Alyatara went about her mysterious business, and at the end, with gestures and a few learned words, she took a solemn promise from me not to go out the door or approach the window. Actually, it boiled down to energetic hooves poking the window and door and an insistent "Evgeniy, no!".

I just nodded gloomily. The day before yesterday and yesterday, Alyatara, as best she could, conveyed the idea to me - humans like me are known in this world. Humans like me are tracked down here and put in prison. I still didn't understand for what offenses, but the drawing of a man behind bars was clear.

I still tried to ask why humans in this world are so disfavored. Alyatara helplessly shook her head, drew a picture of a man swinging a stick at a kem-loti. It didn't become any clearer.

Did their ancestors fight with humans? Maybe humans kept them in slavery? Or something else?

More questions than answers.

And the most important one - what to do next?

On the one hand, I won’t last a day alone in this world. Not knowing the language, not looking like the locals, completely dependent on the mercy of my hospitable hostess… By the way, how long will this mercy last? It’s not even clear why Alyatara, thank her very much, of course, is so friendly towards an uninvited guest. Is it really only out of gratitude for fixing the lock?

On the other hand… At least there are humans here. Maybe they will know the way to Earth? I need to find them. I need to get my bearings in this strange world a little better.

I need to try to learn Alyatara’s language – so far she’s learning mine more successfully. From the Loti language, I’ve only managed to remember “Borayo!” and “Meyo nay!” – “Good morning” and “Good night,” respectively. I heard the first from her yesterday, when I was stretching my limbs after spending the night in a chair. The second was from her yesterday, when she was spreading a tiny mattress for me on the floor next to the chair. The mattress was frankly too small, but after a sedentary night I was immensely grateful to her for it.

Incidentally, I slept poorly. Not because of the hard floor and thin mattress. I just had enough going on. Alien names, alien titles, alien, another creatures... The first night I didn't notice how I fell asleep - I just passed out in the chair at some point, and when I opened my eyes, I found Alyatara snoring in the same sitting position on the sofa. The alien must have tried not to take her eyes off me while I was sleeping until she herself fell asleep.

But the second night - yes, I had enough. I tossed and turned, listened to the quiet breathing of the sleeping Alyatara, peered into the light of the street lamp through the curtains - and it seemed to me that I was already sleeping and dreaming. A very strange dream about alien unicorns.

That if I get up now and go to the sofa, it will turn out that there is one of my friends, who took me in after the metro closed, is sleeping here.

That if I look out the window, there will turn out to be a Moscow street.

Once I couldn’t stand it. I got up and jerked the curtains open. I made sure that the alien city hadn’t gone anywhere, only there were no passers-by on the streets. I went to the sofa, made out a four-legged body half-covered by a blanket and a blue mane scattered across the pillow. Alyatara tossed and turned and muttered something in her sleep.

I lay back down, embarrassed. If she woke up, she would definitely be scared half to death again.

I mustn’t interrupt her while she’s talking about her planet.

I must understand what she’s talking about. I must learn the language.

And so the night passed - tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep and trying to distinguish a dream from reality. Turning out in the morning with a headache and a sleepy haze in my head. And now I have been sitting in a chair for several hours now, leafing through Alyatara's sketches, trying to pick out something useful from them.

I stood up. With a sigh, I took a couple of books from the bookshelf huddled next to the sofa.

The first one turned out to be devoid of pictures, and the winding ligature of the local script did not mean anything to me yet. I was a little luckier with the second one - it seemed to be some kind of fiction.

On the cover was a sand-colored pax-loti with a gray mane, standing in the middle of the jungle and thoughtfully examining a bush with a purple berry on top. He was dressed in some kind of khaki-colored jacket, covering his chest and front legs, with two cutouts for wings. On the pax-loti's thigh, in the place where Alyatara had snowflakes, an eye and stars, there was a drawing of a wind rose.

I quickly leafed through the book and found a few more illustrations. One depicted a cer-loti, on either side of which stood two gray wolves with bared mouths. The cer-loti had a wolf's muzzle in the same place. The next illustration depicted the pax-loti from the cover flying over a crocodile's mouth sticking out of the water. The third depicted a tall cer-loti in a hooded robe, directing a beam of light from a horn onto the bush from the cover.

Wow. I feel like a five-year-old child. The pictures are very interesting, if only you could understand what they depict.

And so the day passed - looking at the few drawings and photographs, trying to watch city life out of the corner of your eye through a crack in the curtains. Numerous carriages pulled by kem-loti rolled along, and people walked along the streets.

Several times I saw pax-loti fluttering above the sidewalk with my own eyes. The winged creatures, it seemed, were not on friendly terms with physics and aerodynamics – because you don’t fuck your friends in the mouth, as Kesha the parrot used to say! Not only did they fly superbly on their small wings – they managed to hover in place, like some kind of helicopters!

However, the pax-loti still tried not to rise too high into the sky. And they stayed mainly above the sidewalks, not above the roadway. Some kind of traffic rules for winged creatures?

“Evgeniy!” I jumped up on the spot. I realized that I was too carried away by observation to hear the clank of the key in the lock. Turned around.

Alyatara looked at me reproachfully. She said something. It was not difficult to guess the meaning. Well, yes, I got carried away watching the local pegasi. So much so that I dangerously leaned out from behind the curtain and almost pressed myself against the glass. Idiot.

“Sorry,” I pressed my hand to my heart in repentance.

“Evgeniy not,” Alyatara glanced warily at the window. “Evgeniy fenero not!”

Seems clear...

“Fenero?” I pointed my finger at the window. “Fenero?”

“Fenero, yes,” Alyatara nodded. She shook her head. “Evgeniy not fenero?”

“Evgeniy fenero not anymore,” I nodded. “Please forgive me.”

Alyatara dropped two small bags hanging on her sides onto the floor. She opened one and stuck her muzzle in.

She muttered something, holding a bundle of thick wrapping paper in her teeth. Tied with twine.

“What? I don't understand.”

Alyatara headed for the kitchen, beckoning me with her eyes to follow her. She put the bundle on the table and began to untie the knot, helping herself with her hooves. The package contained a huge chunk of fish carcass. Salmon or trout, I think. I'm not an expert in fish, I can only tell carp from burbot.

“Evgeniy, yes?” the unicorn asked with a satisfied look, staring at me.

“Er... is this for me? Well, thank you, of course.”

Hmm. In principle, it makes sense. At Alyatara's house, I only saw a typical vegetarian set of vegetables and greens. Apparently, ungulates-loti are herbivores. So she decided to treat me to a fish menu?

“Thank you very much,” I repeated once more, bowing.

Alyatara blushed. She pointed her hoof at her tiny stove and a set of several pots and pans.

“Do you need help cooking this?” I realized. I pointed my finger at the stove, made a motion as if I were cutting fish and putting it in a frying pan. The unicorn nodded.

I didn't consider myself a great cook, and there wasn't enough room for two people, even including the tiny unicorn, to move around in Alyatara's kitchen. But the gas stove in another world was like a gas stove, the oil was like sunflower oil (even if it was squeezed out of some alien worms), and soon the fish was merrily sizzling on the stove. Alyatara watched my manipulations with interest, trying to avoid touching me with her horn and sides.

“Well, it seems to be ready,” I picked up a piece with a small, toy-like fork. “Mmm, delicious. I don't know, though, if you can have this or not? Although if you sell fish...”

Alyatara sniffed the air above the frying pan, really looking like a giant cat. In turn, she pricked a piece and chewed it. She smiled - my culinary talents were clearly appreciated. However, the unicorn did not go for fried fish, perhaps my guesses about a plant-based diet were correct. On the table there was a head of cabbage from the refrigerator and a bowl with briquettes of something that looked very much like briquetted hay.

With a movement of her head, Alyatara ordered me to get out of the kitchen, and began to chop the cabbage into small pieces. I sank into my favorite chair, watching the unicorn bustling about in the kitchen out of the corner of my eye, and feeling my mouth water from the smell of fried fish.

Suddenly darkness fell.

“What?” I jumped up.

I clicked the switch. Alyatara looked at me in surprise, not at all embarrassed by the sudden disappearance of daylight.

“What is this?” I asked in bewilderment, waving my hand towards the window. Where the ghostly gaslight of the lantern was slowly flaring up. Or was it moonlight?

“Evgeniy?” Alyatara clearly didn't understand what I was asking. “Fenero? Mayo?”

“Yes, I understood that it was fenero. Why did it get dark so suddenly? Why mayo?”

Alyatara frowned.

“Mayo,” she shrugged. “Riktara mayo deyin. Understand?”

I sighed. A couple more days in this world - and I will become an expert in Very Heavy Sighs.

Okay, Alyatara doesn't seem too scared of the sudden night in the middle of the day. Actually, she doesn't seem scared at all. She's just surprised by my reaction.

Hmm. But yesterday it seemed to me that it got dark unusually quickly. Only, carried away by attempts to talk with Alyatara, I didn't pay attention to it. I was only surprised at how quickly the twilight closed in outside the window.

Oh, okay. Let's think about the oddities of this world on a full stomach.

Moreover, Alyatara made a gesture that could not be interpreted otherwise than as "I ask you to come to the table."

I was already moving a low stool, like everyone else here, towards me, when a loud knock was heard at the door.

The unicorn shuddered.

The knock was repeated. A high, demanding voice was heard.

“Oh-oh,” Alyatara breathed out. She glanced sideways at the studio. She grabbed my sleeve with her hoof.

“Evgeniy! Irya!” she breathed out in a whisper. She dragged me there, gesturing to the easel. Without explanation, it was clear that she was suggesting that we hide behind it.

Well... in the dark, if they curl up properly, and if no one peers into the corner... After all! I can't hide in the closets, I certainly won't fit in there!

The voice and the knock became more and more insistent. Alyatara shouted something in response. The key rattled.

Alyatara's voice said something puzzled - and stopped. Abruptly, as if a button had been pressed.

For some reason, this seemed suspicious to me.

The sound of hooves was heard. The bathroom door creaked, then the closet door slammed.

Closer, closer...

I didn't even have time to think about anything.

A short command rang out. The easel was thrown aside in a blue flash. In the same flash, I was thrown into the air.

And left hanging upside down, like a worm on a hook.

I screamed. I kicked my leg, trying to hit at least someone.

They deftly grabbed my hands and brought them behind my back. Something snapped - and cold metal grabbed my wrists.

The next second, I was turned back - and put on my feet. A sharp jerk threw me to my knees. Someone's iron grip grabbed my shoulder.

The light flashed.

A blue-colored Cer-loti, in a blue vest, with a badge pinned to his shoulder - a human silhouette against a striped heraldic shield - looked me over carefully.

“Do you speak English?” he asked. “Parlez vous Francais? Habla usted espanol? Vy govorite po-russki?”

The next doing

The carriage rolled along the asphalt streets of Manehattan to the clatter of hooves. I, too, wanted to drop everything and gallop away, clanking loudly by my horseshoes.

Too bad the door was locked.

The suppressor burned the horn with its metallic cold.

Yev’eni sat next to me with his hands shackled. No interpreter was needed to see the tension and fear on his face.

“Yev’eni,” I called out to him, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t be upset. I… we’ll think of something. Maybe I’ll send a petition to the Princess of Friendship herself. I’m sure she’ll order you released when it becomes clear that you’re not like other people.”

The alien slowly raised his head. He looked at me and sighed.

“Have Stargaze to thank,” he squeezed out with a terrible accent.

I knocked on the lattice partition that separated the rear windowless compartment of the carriage.

“Soft Grit! Please tell me what they will do to us?”

The unicorn filly with the butterfly net cutie mark who had cast a silence spell on me there at the entrance turned around.

“You will be interrogated,” she snapped. “And detained until the end of the investigation. You were harboring a human, Stargaze. This is a serious violation.”

“Yev'eni did nothing wrong!” I was indignant. “He is not at all like what we were told about humans!”

“It is not for you to decide,” Soft Grit snapped. “The Committee will interrogate him too, and determine the degree of danger he poses to Equestria. And you, young filly, should think with your head before blindly trusting a stranger and hiding him in your own home!”

I turned away. Stretched out on the bench, covering my muzzle with my hooves.

Just two days ago, my biggest problem was getting scolded by Darling Print, our managing editor … And now I’m being taken in a locked carriage across the entire city, in a magic suppressor, like a criminal!

Something nudged me in the side. It was Yev’eni who moved closer.

He said something in a soothing tone.

I looked at him.

“And thank you very much,” I said, sniffling. I even felt ashamed. His problems are much more serious than mine, and he’s still trying to cheer me up!

The carriage turned several times, several gates opened and closed. Then the bolts clanked on the doors of our prison.

“Stargaze Winter, get out,” ordered the earth pony in the uniform of the city guard. Shuddering, I went down to the cobblestones. I turned around, meeting Yev’eni’s gaze – he had already been grabbed under the paws by two strong earth ponies that had broken into the apartment together with Soft Grit.

“Let’s go,” the guard put his hoof on my shoulder. He spoke without malice, but his leg was heavy.

With my head down, I dragged myself across the closed courtyard, where the carriage had driven in, to the side entrance of the nearest building – nothing special, an ordinary three-story office building, like many in Broncklin.

To my surprise, they didn’t take me to the basement, but led me up the stairs to the second floor. I didn’t see any bars or prisoners either – the corridor with shabby doors looked like the office of some small rental agency. The only thing that added variety was a large poster with human muzzles full-face.

I involuntarily slowed my pace. The large sign read “Peoples of humans.” Below it, a smaller red one said, "Use caution. Humans may find race-related talk offensive."

Below were six images. The two humans on the left were very similar to Yev'eni, except for the finer features of the face and the long mane of the right portrait. The two in the middle were darker-skinned, with their manes twisted into thick dreadlocks and curls. The two humans on the right were darker than Yev'eni, but not as dark as the central portraits. Their eyes were narrowed to slits.

Below the portraits were long inscriptions in small, illegible font. From each portrait, long arrows led down to smaller drawings. There were about fifty of them at the bottom of the portrait, and they made my eyes water.

Alas, I was unable to see more closely - the guard pushed me forward. To the door at the end of the corridor, covered with oilcloth, with a cutout for the opening closed with an iron curtain. He stuck his muzzle into the saddle bag for the keys.

I stepped inside.

It looked more like a room in a very cheap hotel than a prison cell. A couch, a folding table, a sink and a toilet in a corner fenced off with plywood...

The lock clanked behind me.

“Wait!” I begged, knocking on the window. “How long do I have to sit here? What will they do to me?”

The guard threw back the shutter.

“I have no idea. If you were a thief or a crook, you would sit for a day before being called in for questioning, and then either get a fine and walk free, or go to the county jail if you don't have enough bits for bail. But you are on the case of Committee, and they have their own procedures. By the way!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Did you really hide a human? How dare you? They're monsters! Didn't he try to eat you?”

I looked at the guard.

“That's not true! Yev'eni is not a monster! He was just very confused when he got here, and I tried to help him!”

“Well, well,” the earth pony muttered skeptically. “He looks like a real monster to me”

“Wait, so you're not from Committee?”

The guard laughed.

“What are you talking about? The Committee has three or four ponies of staff here and a couple of offices that they've snatched from us! If only there were as many humans here as in Canterlot, then...” he cut himself off abruptly. “Anyway, I'm not supposed to chat with you. Sit here and wait until they call you,” he slammed the door.”

I plopped down on the couch and covered my face with my hooves.

And I stayed like that until the same guard, muttering "bon appetit," stuck a bowl of hay and an iron mug of water through the window.

To my surprise, I discovered that my excitement was working up a savage appetite.

The keys rattled in the door again, just as I was about to start kicking it with all my might.

Judging by the frequency of feedings, I've been here for two days already!

And if by internal timekeeping - not less than a week!

I looked at the same guard. Oh, if I were a real magician, and if the suppressor weren't hanging on my horn - I'm afraid I would incinerate him on the spot!

“Well, let's go” the guardian of order muttered. He pushed me to the door of the neighboring office. He looked gloomy, his superiors must have scolded him for talking to the prisoner.

After the semi-dark corridor, the sun was shining in my eyes. Against the bright square of the barred window, the dark silhouette of Soft Grit and a pile of folders in front of her were visible. The walls of the office were covered with dark veneer, there were images of the Sun and the Moon - they must not have had time to move it since the time of the Dyarchy.

“Sit down, Stargaze,” - she ordered. - Rake, you are free to go.

The guard bowed and closed the door of the office. I sat down on the hard stool bolted to the floor.

“Soft Grit!” I blurted out. “Yev'eni is innocent! He didn't even know he had to surrender to the authorities! I told him to stay in the house and not show himself!”

Agent of the Committee grinned.

“That's funny, Stargaze. And your... ward said that he forced you not to report to the guards about him.”

A wave of heat rushed into my muzzle. So he even tried to cover me?

“What are you going to do to us?” I demanded an answer. “They must have fired me in absentia at work!”

“You don't have to worry about problems with work,” Soft Grit brushed off. “And anyway, I ask the questions here, not you. Speaking of questions,” she took something rather heavy and shiny with gold out of the desk drawer.

I stared at the statuette on a gold chain. It depicted the muzzle of some unknown to me pointy-eared animal, with two wide wings on the sides. Soft Grit took a short strap from the same drawer and fastened the thing to a bracket on the table. Probably so that I couldn’t throw the figurine at her head.

“Put this on your neck,” she ordered. She pushed it towards me with telekinesis.

The unknown amulet noticeably pulled my neck down.

“Let’s begin,” Stargaze pulled a pencil and a scroll towards herself. “Your name? This is for the record.”

“Stargaze Winter,” I responded sadly. Then came the standard questions about date of birth, place of work, and relatives. A fly buzzed sadly, beating against the glass.

“Under what circumstances did you meet a human named Evgeniy Komarov?”

“He… he just emerged from my bathroom.”

Soft Grit's pencil trembled.

“Just emerged from the bathtub,” she nodded. “In a locked apartment, right?”

“Yeah. I was really scared, accidentally hit my head and almost choked. If it weren't for Yev'eni...”

Soft Grit methodically rustled her pencil on the paper. I continued telling the story of how I met the human, including the broken lock, my studio, evening gatherings with maps and drawings. The agent shook her head in time with my words, not trying to interrupt or ask questions.

“Tell me,” she said finally. “Did Yevgeny mention a name like "My Little Pony" to you? Perhaps he addressed you like that?”

I widened my eyes in bewilderment.

“No. Actually, he couldn't. He even learned the word "pony" two days ago.”

“And he expressed surprise when you told him about Equestria? About our peoples, about the princesses? Didn't you think that some of this might be familiar to him?”

I spread my front legs.

“We didn't really understand each other's speech, of course... But it didn't seem that way to me. He was clearly seeing everything I was drawing for the first time in his life.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Soft Grit muttered. “You haven't heard the term "brony" from him either?”

“Is this some kind of pony?” I was surprised. “No.”

Soft Grit sighed heavily.

“Okay. Let's move on to other questions. Was Evgeniy trying to act aggressively? Threaten you?”

“Nothing like that!” I blurted out.

“Not even in the first minutes after... your acquaintance?”

“Even then. He was scared and confused. But he didn't try to harm or scare me in any way. Quite the opposite - he tried to calm me down and make friends.”

The pencil flew across the paper. I was thirsty.

“Did he mention anything about his past on Earth? Occupation, education, lifestyle?”

“Where from? Soft, I'm telling you - we only managed to learn a few words of each other's language!”

Soft Grit looked up at me.

“Stargaze, one more question. I warn you right away, it may seem very personal and even unpleasant. But I insist on a truthful answer.”

“What question?” I tensed up.

“The human showed sexual interest in you?”

I jumped up on my stool.

“What?!”

“Answer to the point,” Soft ordered dryly. “Perhaps compliments, hugs, kisses? Attempts at seduction?”

I felt myself blushing again.

“There was nothing like that! Absolutely! Soft Grit, if you...”

“To the point,” the unicorn interrupted me before I could get indignant. “I understand. Thank you,”she scribbled with a pencil. Then she looked up from the paper.

“Stargaze, how would you personally rate your visitor? General impressions, notable details?”

I thought about it, still slightly stunned by the penultimate question.

“It seemed to me that he was a good sentient. And he could be a good friend. For anyone, it would be a terrible shock - to suddenly find yourself in an alien world. And he tried to keep his composure and not to scare me. He came to my aid when the lock broke... and in general, he saved my life when I almost choked! If all humans are like this, then everything we say about them is dirty rumors.”

“Don't make dangerous generalizations, Stargaze,” Soft advised. “There are many lies in rumors, but the part of truth they contain is even more unpleasant. And in general, for the future, get it into your head - you should not blindly trust strangers without making sure of their intentions. The Princess was forced to create the Committee for a reason, believe me.”

I remained silent.

“What will happen to us?” I finally decided to ask, seeing that Soft was in no hurry to continue the interrogation.

“Will?” the unicorn chuckled.

“Of course, I could move your case forward. Harboring humans is a crime against the crown. But I see that you are just a young and foolish pony who succumbed to a sincere impulse of friendship. And Princess Twilight teaches that it is wrong to punish ponies for following the ideals of Friendship. Take off the talisman of truth,” she said.

I carefully took the amulet over my head.

“Am I... am I free?”

“Now the guard will take you to the exit and write a notice for your boss that you were questioned as a witness in the case of the crown. Go and think with your head next time,” Soft Grit ordered.

I stood up. Turned to the door... and froze.

“And Yev'eni?”

Soft Grit sighed very heavily.

“Stargaze. Don't you have enough troubles?”

I waited silently for an answer.

“Your vis-à-vis will be sent to the adaptation camp,” Soft finally gave in. “There he will be examined and his case will be reviewed. If the Commitee decides he is safe and can fit into our society, he will be released. If not, he will remain in government custody until his status is reviewed.”

I winced.

“Adaptation camp? You mean... Ponyville camp?”

Soft Grit gave me a hard look. She put a hoof to her forehead. Her tail lashed irritably at her sides.

“I see. Have you heard enough of the latest rumors? Have you believed that we skin humans alive there?”

I remained silent.

“Haven't you realized yet that you can't blindly believe every rumor? Yes, it's not the most pleasant place, yes, the conditions there are harsh. But for many humans, it's the best way to ensure safety. And not just for Equestrians. But for themselves, too.”

I remained silent. Soft Grit rolled up the scroll in irritation. She pulled the bell cord.

“Go and don't look for any more trouble,” she ordered.

I had almost stepped towards the door - and shuddered.

Details of an article that had been published in the "World of Manehattan" about a year ago came to mind. Some lawsuit with a family of griffins who were trying to prevent them from living in Equestria…

“Soft Grit,” I blurted out decisively. “There is a law. If a citizen of Equestria takes a foreigner on bail, he is allowed to live in the kingdom. Right?”

Soft Grit grimaced as if she had eaten a whole griffonstone lemon.

“Stargaze!” For the first time she raised her voice. “Are you trying to play the lawyer? Look, I might change my mind about your case!”

I stubbornly remained silent. The agent glared at me.

The door creaked, and a guard poked his head into the office.

“You called me, agent?”

“So there is such a law?”

She glared at me.

“Wait,” Soft almost growled at the guard. “Yes. That law exists. And it is only due to pure oversight that they have not yet managed to cancel its effect on humans,” she pulled out a sheet of paper with another pencil from somewhere and threw it at me.

“Fill out the application. And keep in mind - if your ward does something wrong, you will be held accountable in court just like him! Even if you are not involved in it in any way!”

Inwardly rejoicing, I began to enter the necessary information in the tiny fields of the form. Having reached the point "origin of the person being transferred on bail", I hesitated. I wanted to ask Soft Grit, but I realized that she was already boiling like a kettle on the fire - and decided not to risk it. I simply wrote "Human World".

Soft Grit snatched the form from me, shoved it into the folder, and slammed the cover shut. "Take her to the exit, remove the suppressor, and file her as a testifying witness," she ordered. "And wait for me. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

It was only on the first floor that I realized we were in the Bronxlyn police station, seeing the familiar buildings of Dray Square through the barred windows. My guide approached the duty officer's desk and began filling out another form. He handed me the saddlebag that had been taken from me home...

“Stargaze!”

“Yev'eni!” I smiled broadly.

He took a few steps forward and leaned toward me.

“Damn it! I'm so glad to see you!”

“And I'm glad to see you too! Listen... stop! Are you speaking our language?”

Yev'eni smiled broadly. He was wearing some kind of baggy robe and pants that clearly didn't fit his figure. They must have been tailored to look like a minotaur.

“Damn it, my head is still splitting, like I've had a hangover. No, it's all fair, that lady warned me right away that it would be unpleasant. She said she needed to question me, and it would be easier if I could answer the questions in your language. Brrr, it's like a screw was screwed into my skull... But now we can talk to each other!”

I peered into his muzzle. The smile faded. He looked very, very confused... and there was pain in his eyes. And fear.

“Didn't they... do anything to you?”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“She told me... some things. A whole bunch of very strange things. I... I can't quite fit it all into my head, that's all.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Soft Grit stamping her hoof. I turned to her.

“Can we both go?”

“Yes, you can,” the agent snapped. “ Here are your documents. Yevgeny, you are required to come here once a month and report for six months. Is that clear?”

“Exactly,” the human nodded.

“And one last thing,” Soft said. “If you are caught in the slightest offense - the slightest, even if you throw a core in the wrong place - Faust sees, not only you will be arrested. But also your benefactress, who is so eager to take care of you. Do you understand?”

Yev'eni glanced at me briefly.

“I understand everything, Soft Grit. You can be sure that I will be as quiet as a mouse.”

“Although no,” Soft looked at me. “Another warning personally for you, Stargaze.”

I pressed my ears.

“There are philosophical schools that believe that any of the possible worlds is simultaneously someone's fiction. If so, this does not make reality any less real.”

My jaw dropped from this sudden philosophical attack.

“What?!!”

And I heard Yev'eni shudder, sucking in air through clenched teeth.

“Enough,” he hissed. “My brain is about to explode. We're leaving.”

The sun was low - Twilight must have raised it above the horizon not long ago. I wondered if I'd have time to get to work today. I glanced sideways at the tower clock...

And, cheerfully tossing my mane, I decided to laze around. The certificate that I held in front of me with telekinesis gave me a legal day off until this evening.

I looked at Yev'eni. He was looking around, as if enchanted.

“Do you like the city?” I asked cheerfully.

“Huh?” his gaze focused on me. “The city... yes. So strange. It seems so similar to our cities. And at the same time...” he looked at the figure of the postman, cutting across the rooftops.

“What's sparkling there?”

I put my hoof to my eyes.

“The Crystaller Building. If you want, we can go and take a closer look.”

Yev’eni winced.

“Not now. I… I’m a little tired. And everyone’s already staring at us like I’m a monkey in a cage. You know, let’s go back. I need to pull myself together. Think about my next doing…”

It’s true. I myself kept catching glances from passersby. The ponies turned around, watching us with their eyes. I heard the foal’s voice, “A monster! Mom, look, a monster!” Yev’eni winced.

“You know what?” I said decisively, shoving a piece of paper into his paws. “Let’s catch a taxi. I’m tired too, and I don’t want to walk across half the city.”

Well, I wouldn’t mind a walk… But the onlookers started to bother me, too. I stepped to the edge of the cobblestones, looking for the yellow carriage.

The human looked around.

“Manehattan, huh?” he muttered. “What does that mean?”

"Maned Island in the Swamp," I translated. “It's from the language of deer, not ponies. According to legend, there was once a village of them on this site, after which the city was named.”

“Deer?” Yev'eni shook his head. “Stargaze, this is all very interesting, but I'll ask you about it later. I'm already overloaded with information.”

At that moment, I noticed an empty taxi and sped up. The human hurried after me.

The earth pony in harness turned to look at me.

“Where are you going, filly?” then he noticed Yev'eni, and his eyes widened for a second. However, with true professional calm, he did not ask any questions.

“Ferrier Hill.”

“Three bits.”

Yev'eni followed the gold coins that migrated from my bag to the taxi driver.

"Stargaze, may I see your money?" he asked, when we had already settled into the cabin. Not exactly comfortable - Yev'eni's head was hitting the ceiling - but he seemed to care little.

I handed him the bit. Yev'eni twirled it in his fingers, glanced at the star on the back - the coin was newly minted.

"Gold coins," he smiled faintly. "Funny."

“Mmm?”

“In my world, no one pays in gold anymore. And such a piece would be enough to live comfortably for a month or two - tightening your belt,” he returned the coin to me. “You know, we have such sweets - chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil. At first it seemed to me that you were paying...“ he hesitated, “the cab driver with them.”

I plopped down on my favorite sofa with sincere pleasure. Yev'eni sank into the chair occupied during the interworld invasion and closed his eyes.

After half an hour, I was too lazy to lie around and be silent. I went to the kitchen and sadly discovered that the salad I had prepared shortly before the arrest could be thrown out. I had to limit myself to sandwiches - hay for me, with carrot dressing for the guest.

“Don't you want to eat?”

Yev'eni raised his eyelids.

“Eat? Yeah... something to eat wouldn't hurt.”

“Headache, huh?” I asked understandingly. “I'd offer you a pill, but I'm not sure our painkillers would help you. Maybe coffee?”

“Coffee? Probably,” Yev'eni answered somehow inappropriately, and still looked at the wall.

I moved closer.

“You don't look well.”

“Not well?” the human muttered. “Well, I guess not well...” he took a weak bite of his sandwich, chewed a piece and put the plate with the sandwich on the nightstand.

I walked around him and looked into his eyes.

“Yev'eni. What's wrong?”

The same crazy look fell on me, like the first time we met.

“That lady who's an agent, she told me something,” Yev'eni muttered.

He covered his muzzle with his paws.

“Something, motherfuck!” - he roared. His fist hit the armrest with all his might.

I recoiled.

Yev'eni looked at me. Muttered something incomprehensible.

“Sorry,” he said dully. “I shouldn't yell at you. It's just... shit, Stargaze, in my people's language there is a word that means "to be surprised to the utmost degree and at the same time - to be very angry." That's how I feel right now.”

I sat down next to him. Put my hoof on his paw.

“Tell me.”

Yev'eni clenched his fists.

“Something about how I got here.”

“Through the bath?” I shuddered. “I've been afraid to use it myself these days. Who knows, maybe I'll get sucked into the neighboring world too.”

A dull chuckle rang out.

“Don't be afraid. You're in no danger. Well, if you're careful.”

I waited for him to continue.

“They know about my world. I'm not the first one to come here from it. I remember you trying to tell me something like that, but she told me more.”

“They know how we get here, Stargaze,” Yev'eni winced. “I'm never going back.”

I winced too.

“I... I'm sorry.”

Yev'eni laughed again, low in his throat.

“Death,” he said.

My ears perked up.

“What?”

“Death. They don't know why or how, but some humans, when they die, are reborn in this world. Just like me.”

Now my fur is standing on end.

No wonder he looks like he's been hit on the head...

“When I got into my own shower,” Yev'eni muttered. “I thought I'd fallen through somewhere and popped up here, in your bathtub. But in reality, I slipped, hit the back of my head, fell into the water and must have drowned. I have nowhere to go back to, Stargaze. I'm dead.”

I shook my mane, trying to comprehend what I'd said.

“Don't say that. You're alive. Here you are, sitting in my chair and breaking my armrests. I don't know what kind of magic tricks these are, but... But even...”

“Magic tricks?” He shook his head. “Oh yeah, to find yourself in a magical world where even the Sun is moved across the sky by sorcery... I thought that kind of thing was only written in shitty fantasy... Stargaze. You know what the weirdest thing is?”

I closed my eyes.

“Even weirder?!”

“Yeah. It's not just your world that knows about us. We know about you too.”

“Where from?”

“There was such a series. You... do you have movies here?” I nodded silently. “Well, there was a fantasy movie. Or rather, a multi-episode cartoon. About the magical land of ponies, Equestria. I first learned about it from Soft Grit, but, according to her, it was - and is - very popular in my world. It created a whole subculture. Fans, comics, product placement and all that...”

“Like the Daring Do series?”

“Daring Do?” Yev'eni looked at me blankly. “Well, I don't know... maybe this works for everyone? You know, who ran through the forest with a ski - and after his death he ended up with elves and hobbits?” I didn't quite understand what skis had to do with it and who elves and hobbits were, but I think I got the idea. “Well, that's it. Fans of this cartoon... after their death, they started ending up here. With you. In the world it was filmed about.”

My head was spinning from such revelations.

“Maybe... Maybe one of you visited our world before? And then, when he came back, he created the movie you're talking about?”

“Maybe...” muttered Yev'eni. “Soft Grit said that they themselves know very little about this phenomenon. You know, I haven't even watched the cartoon you were talking about. No, now that I've been told about it, I remembered some pictures on the Internet with pink ponies. But you know, I didn't look into it. There are so many franchises, you can't watch them all. Although... Although...”

He rubbed his forehead vigorously.

“Listen. I remember something like this. I have a cousin niece, she's nine years old. Once I went to visit her family, there were showing cartoons on TV. There was some huge red monster that blew up a tree, and then shot laser beams at a purple horse with wings...”

“Purple horse?” I barely held back a giggle. I ran into Yev'eni's puzzled look.

“Sorry, but... You're talking about Tirek's fight with the Princess of Friendship. And you better not call her a "purple horse" in front of everyone! She won't order you executed, but other ponies might not appreciate it. It sounds almost like "pink monkey."”

Now Yev'eni laughed too.

“I'll keep that in mind for the future. Listen, so do you often get attacked by monsters here?”

“Often?” I shook my head. “Well, it depends on what you mean by “often”. Over the last seven years… Nightmare Moon returned, then Discord was freed, although he almost didn’t harm anyone, then the Canterlot wedding and the Plunderseeds’ attack. Then, actually, Tirek attacked us, and after that everything was calm. Well, at least except Ponyville – but that’s a special place, with the Everfree and the entrance to Tartarus nearby, something happens there all the time. Oh yeah, and the war with Storm – but it was overseas and didn’t affect Equestria. Besides, all of that happened in the capital, and here in Manehattan, I don’t remember any cataclysms. Oh, and Sombra was reborn – but that was in the Empire, far to the north, and he didn’t have time to harm anyone before he was destroyed either.”

Yev’eni shook his head.

“It sounds like you guys are constantly fighting here.”

I laughed.

“And I thought that humans were constantly fighting each other!

“Oh, what are you…” Yev’eni stopped short. He swallowed.

I looked at him, puzzled.

“A couple of days ago, I would have said you were exaggerating,” he breathed out. “That our last big war ended seventy-three years ago. And now…” he shook his head.

“You know, this whole thing about being in here,” he continued after a pause, “it’s kind of nonlinear. We get thrown in randomly from a time span of eleven years. I got in about the middle,” he looked through the wall again.

“I got news from home, Stargaze,” he muttered.

“Good?” I immediately realized that the question was stupid.

“No, Stargaze. Not good at all,” he stopped short. “I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry.”

There was silence. I tried to think of something to say to Yev'eni to cheer him up. There was no need to explain - only a really stupid pony wouldn't understand what he was talking about.

“Sounds like some kind of joke from Discord,” I finally said.

“Discord?” Yev'eni rubbed his forehead. “I'll have to learn a lot about your world. Soft Grit said something like that too, and added "but he denies his involvement."”

He stood up. He poured himself some water, drank it down in one gulp, and returned to his chair.

“You know, she was very surprised - the agent, I mean - that I was thrown so far away. And that I didn't know anything about the cartoon. Before me, everyone was thrown somewhere where the action took place. What did she call them ... Ponyville or Ponywood Forest, something like that.”

"Ponyville and the Everfree Forest," I corrected him automatically.

“Well, yeah, exactly. At first, those who sincerely wanted to be here were transferred, - Yev’eni chuckled. “Then - those who were just fascinated by the cartoon. I was the first case when someone who had heard about it out of the corner of an ear was sucked in. She really didn’t want to let me go. She said that your princess would want to personally examine me.”

“So that’s why she was so angry!” I realized.

“Probably,” Yev’eni muttered. “Damn, she also said something about “incidents”. As I understand it, some of the first ones transferred, when they realized that all this was real, their roof was tored," seeing my puzzled look, he corrected himself, “I mean, their minds couldn’t handle the shock. And some of them did some bad things. She refused to give details…”

“I understand. To be honest, there are such rumors about humans here... Well, let's say, bad ones. To be honest, at first that's why I was so scared of you too.”

“At first, yes... I almost fainted myself then.”

“Well, in the end, she agreed to let me go, in exchange for a promise that I would show up at the first call to let myself be studied. By the way!” Yev'eni looked at me. “Stargaze! So it was you who talked her into letting me out on bail, instead of sending me to this prison of yours for humans?”

I felt myself blushing. I nodded silently.

“Thank you,” he said warmly.

“You're welcome,” I responded. “If a friend is in trouble, you have to help him!”

“A friend?” Yev'eni said with some surprise in his voice.

“Of course!” I raised my head in bewilderment. “Aren’t you?”

Yev'eni sighed. He smiled sadly.

“Sorry, Stargaze. We probably just don't so easy...” he cut himself off mid-sentence. “I... I'm really glad you're my friend. Thank you so much. And for that. And for messing around with me.”

I leaned on the armrest, rising up on my hind legs and looking into the human's muzzle.

“Everything will be fine, Yev'eni. Even if you can't come back - Equestria is a wonderful place. You’ll like it here.”

Find your place

The roofs are gabled, with pointed turrets, covered with red tiles instead of slate or roofing felt. The windows are tall, lancet, with a fancy pattern of stucco, with tiny balconies planted with flowers under each. The doors have an unusual arched curve, like miniature castle gates.

Sidewalks paved with cobblestones instead of asphalt. Curves of cast iron along fences and along canopies. And in the distance, the tops of high-rises of a completely modern appearance are ablaze likeflames.

Okay, if you don’t pay attention to the unusually small size of the buildings and everything, you can imagine that some ancient earthly city is spread out below.

But you'll never get used to this.

Sunlight gilded the east, broke through the gaps between the houses, slid along the streets like a light wave. A golden flash colored the sky. Long shadows fell, shortening with each second. The moon, hanging above the horizon, slid down. A wave of blue slid from east to west, washing away the blackness. The street lights began to dim, the firefly ones - almost immediately and slowly, the electric ones - out of sync and instantly.

And the solar disk hung over the roofs, about forty degrees from the horizon.

Beautiful. Very beautiful.

And most ponies react to this beauty by raising their heads for a couple of seconds.

The air is surprisingly fresh, especially in contrast to Moscow's, which is saturated with gasoline fumes. No wonder - there is not any cars on the streets, only a few wisps of smoke rising into the sky in the west.

More and more multi-colored spots appeared on the streets. They flowed in streams from the entrances, fluttered here and there over the roofs. I moved away from the window.

I can't wrap my head around it. It's like I'm sleeping and having a weird, surreal dream. The alarm is about to go off and I...

No, Zhenyok. You won't wake up.

Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

The door to the attic was unlocked. As were most of the common doors in this town. The ponies seemed to lock their own doors only occasionally.

The lock, which I had repaired myself, clinked.

"Who's there?" Alyatara's sleepy voice rang out. She yawned, and I heard the sound of hooves landing on the parquet floor.

“Good morning! I thought you were awake long ago.”

Alyatara laughed.

“Today is a day off! I can afford to sleep longer. Why aren't you sleeping?”

“Oh. I'll show you now.”

The unicorn dived into the bathroom and splashed around. She appeared in the kitchen, filled the kettle with telekinesis and placed it on the stove. She struck a match.

“Well?” she said with interest.

I took a cloth bag out of my pocket (feel like you’re in the Middle Ages!) and placed the jingling wallet on the oilcloth.

“I agreed with Josehoof that I would remove last year's leaves from the courtyard. And would drag the boxes from the inner courtyard to the attic. Now I owe you a little less for the rent.”

Alyatara raised her head indignantly.

“Evgeniy! It’s not necessary at all!”

I put out my palm, cutting her off.

“I'm not going to be a burden. Take it. No objections.”

The unicorn sighed.

“Okay, let's put it in a joint budget. Are you sure you don't need them more?”

“I’ve already bought myself a few things,” I stood up and showed Aliatara the bag with pants and a jacket. I was also counting on getting a pair of underpants and boots – even though the ponies didn’t pay attention to it, walking barefoot on the sidewalk designed for hooves was problematic, to put it mildly. But then I was disappointed. The only thing I managed to get from the store was some kind of loincloth.

“In a shop on the next street,” I explained. “Their sign said that they sell clothes for different sapient beings. These were made for a minotaur, I will have to retail it. By the way...”

“Yes?”

“Do they really exist? Griffons, minotaurs... It sounds like I'm in a fairy tale.”

Alyatara laughed. She disappeared into the room and appeared with the atlas in her teeth.

“Look. You know, when the Manehattan World published the article about the human invasion, I had the same feeling.”

The pages rustled as they unfurled.

"That's Griffonstone, and the Dragon Lands to the south," she ran a hoof along the coast east across the sea from Manehattan. "Minos is right here," she pointed to a large island to the southeast. "And there are a few minotaur villages in southern Equestria. Although the southern borders are such a place, it's hard to tell who lives there and who doesn't."

I looked at the already familiar hybrid of an eagle and a lion, at the dragon with its wings spread. And at the figure of a short-legged and broad-shouldered creature with a bull's head. I let out a Very Heavy Sigh.

A few more days in this world and I am guaranteed first place in the Very Heavy Sigh (VHS) Championship.

The kettle whistled cheerfully. Alyatara lit the magic field and began pouring boiling water into porcelain cups decorated with a cheerful picture of strawberries. I took bread and cheese with butter out of the refrigerator (noticing for the first time in days that there were no wires leading to the white cabinet).

The unicorn took a sip of tea. She pulled the purse towards herself and untied the strings with her hoof.

"Josehoof is the landlady's husband?" she asked. I nodded.

“Well... Evgeny, don't even think that I'm greedy, but this is mere pennies for such work. I saw that yard, and those leaves...”

I chuckled.

“I know, Alyatara. He would have paid pony more.”

The unicorn snorted angrily.

“It's not fair. And it doesn't really fit with Harmony.”

“What can I do? For the locals, I'm still an overseas monster that children are afraid of. I'm unlikely to earn more elsewhere. I'll have to start from scratch.”

Alyatara put down her cup.

“Evgeny, what are you going to do? Well, next? - she asked quietly.”

My signature VHS followed.

“I don't know. I don't know yet. The first two items on my list are "Earn money" and "Buy shoes." And then... Then I want to look for some other humans in this city. If possible, get to the capital. Maybe they'll tell me something. It seems like some of us managed to get a foothold here.”

The unicorn sat opposite, rhythmically tapping her hoof on the oilskin tablecloth. It seemed she was deep in thought about something. A shadow flashed past the tiny kitchen window - either a bird flew by, or another pegasus.

"I haven't heard about many humans in Manehattan," she drawled. "If there are, they're only a few, no more. You know, I'll ask around at the office if anyone's heard anything about your kind. Maybe somepony help you earn some money."

“Well, thanks for the offer, of course. But I have a hard time imagining how I can be useful to you there. At home, I was mostly engaged in selling this and that, so I would be good for nothing except delivering newspapers,” I chuckled. “And that's if I don't scare away your customers. Well, plus I did some metalworking in my spare time, just as hobby.”

My attention was attracted by association by a newspaper lying on the windowsill – the same one, it seems, that I leafed through on the second day, amazed by the strange creatures in the photographs. I picked up the rustling sheets, glanced at the first page. (Un)familiar letters began to slowly form words.

"CUSTOMS DUTIES - UNPRECEDENTED REDUCTION!

The people of Manehattan have received with joy and satisfaction the news of the new decree of our glorious and beloved Princess of Friendship on the thirty percent reduction of import duties on goods from Griffonstone, Seaquestria and Abyssinia. There is no doubt that this measure will serve to strengthen foreign trade in every possible way and will benefit the city and the country.

Of course, the Equestrian treasury will not suffer at all from the customs reforms. After all, as the Department of Trade believes, the increase in total taxes from the increase in trade with our foreign partners should more than offset the reduction in tax rates.

Of course, as always, there were skeptics among the city's residents. Thus, a source in the city council who wished to remain anonymous stated:

"I don't understand what Her Highness is counting on when she talks about increasing trade. Griffonstone is as poor as a temple mouse, and Aris is too busy with post-war reconstruction, and it's unlikely that both of them, taken together, will be able to offer the markets of Equestria worthy goods or pay for our products with anything other than promises. On the other hand, now it's not only the treasury that will suffer losses, but also our worthy artisans, when Equestrian flax will have to compete with silk from Hathistan, or the products of our mines - with coal from the griffon mines. Under Celestia, Canterlot did not allow itself such carelessness!"

Well, our editorial board wholeheartedly condemns the whiners and the skeptics. Just as it condemned the pessimists who believed that the kingdom's budget should have been spent on aid to village schools and payments to mage-healers. And not to, to quote these opportunistic statements, "the stolen aid to victims of avalanches in Yakyakistan, unsuccessful attempts to adapt humans to civilized life and investments in Griffonstone eateries."

There is no doubt that Princess Twilight's wise and balanced policy will lead our land to true prosperity. And will also allow us to make new friends outside of Equestria. After all, haven't we already seen how eagerly the yetis of the Storm Islands accept the ideals of Friendship, especially when they are hammered into their skulls with swords and spears? Isn't the Kingdom of Farasi about to realize how reckless it was to close its borders to our merchants? Isn't…"

I put the newspaper down on the table. Local politics, of course. Only "human’s adaptation to civilized life" interested me.

Alyatara looked at the cup of cold tea.

“So you’ve been working since morning?” she asked.

“Yeah. Before the sun rises. So as not to embarrass anyone with my appearance.”

No, of course, Alyatara was not in the cards for competing with me in VHS for a long time. But now there was a good attempt.

"That's not right," she said sadly. "I know you're not an otherworldly monster - you're just not like us ponies. It's embarrassing to think that I was the one retelling those rumors. I don't like that you have to hide from everyone like... like some kind of creature from Tartarus."

My heart warmed. Not only did this simple creature take on the responsibility of caring for a foreigner, but she was also worried about the reaction of her fellow creatures…

“What should I do? I can't go everywhere with a sign that says "I'm a human being, and I'm not a monster."”

Alyatara leaned forward, looking into my eyes.

“Everything will be fine,” she promised, though in a somewhat uncertain tone.

I sighed. I wanted to pat the unicorn on the head, but I didn't dare - who knows if it's considered impolite in Equestria.

Okay. We'll get through this.

The pony sat opposite me, deep in thought about something.

“And if…” she drawled slowly. She picked up the newspaper I had left behind with telekinesis and rustled the pages.

“Yeah, that's it!”

She turned the newspaper towards me.

“The griffonian cuisine café ‘Wing and Hoof’ is once again waiting for visitors,” I read with some effort. “We offer dishes from both shores of the Celestia Sea!”

“Since you're going to save me on rent, maybe we should go out into the city? It's boring to sit at home all weekend, don't you think? I'll show you Manhattan while you're at it. How about that?”

I shook my head. On the one hand, it sounded tempting. On the other…

“Are you sure there is enough money? I don't want to causing you...”

“Well, that's enough! - Alyatara shook her mane. “You're definitely not causing me any pays, and I want to unwind myself. And anyway! Let the townspony get used to your appearance.

I laughed sadly.

“Tell me better, I'll get used to you.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that,” Alyatara laughed. “Although if you think about it… So what?”

Damn. How can you refuse her?

Well, damn!

That's all I had words for.

The huge machine slowly floated over the sea.

The ship didn't look like Earth's airships at all. Well... as I imagined them.

The huge cigar was painted in blue and purple stripes, the bow was covered with something like metal plating. Below, the entire length of the ship, there was some kind of lattice truss, with something attached by ropes... what was it called? A hull? A gondola? In general, a thing very similar to the hull of a sailboat, if all the masts and sails were cut off.

The lower part, whatever it was called, was almost as big as the upper balloon, at least one hundred and twenty meters. And it looked like it was made of planks. Portholes sparkled in the sun along the sides. The nose was crowned with a gilded horse's head. Huge fins-wings stuck out from the sides, rhythmically raking the air.

A long curved pipe extended from the left side of the airship. Thick black smoke was coming out of it. A soft rattling sound could be heard from the ship.

The airship slowly descended. It passed to the right of the embankment, casting a shadow on the waves of the bay. It glided toward the low stone wall that protected the coast.

Above which some towers similar to power transmission line masts, gable roofs and balloons of the same flying machinesrose.

“Wow. Just wow,” I finally said.

“Looks cool, doesn't it?” Alyatara smiled. “Humans don't have such technologies?”

I laughed.

“We have something better. Enormous winged ships made entirely of metal. They are as big as this thing, but can fly dozens of times faster than it.”

“Great,” Alyatara watched the airship go. “Would you mind drawing what yours airships look like? I’ve got a couple of ideas for a sketch…”

“I will,” I promised. “Listen, I don’t understand something… Is it steam-powered?”

The unicorn thought.

“I don't know, to be honest. I think most of them have both steam and magic engines. But I don't really know much about it, really. I'm not a mechanic.”

The sea space sparkled in the sunbeams before us. Seagulls were screaming, sails were visible ahead – between the embankment and the ridge of islands rising on the horizon. I also spotted a couple of steamships with a trail of smoke behind them. One looked like something out of an old novel – wooden planking, several tall pipes, paddle wheels, a small mast with furled sails. The second looked more modern, no wheels or masts were visible.

The wind ruffled my hair and the unicorn's mane. On Earth, I somehow never got to go to the sea, and I looked at the ships with almost the same interest as the airship. Even forgetting for a while that the ponies I met looked askance and turned around.

“Turn left from here,” Alyatara said, giving me a little nudge in the side. We crossed the road, entering a labyrinth of shops and cafes.

Here I was looked at less sideways. Probably because the people on the streets were more diverse.

The most numerous of all (not counting ponies of all kinds) were griffons. Those same bird-cats whose photo I had stared at in the newspaper. There were also bird-horses, sometimes walking along the sidewalk, sometimes fluttering over it like pegasi. "Hippogriffs," whispered Alyatara in my ear, seeing me watching the creature flash over the street.

Once I saw (and tried my best not to stare, reminding myself that I wasn't actually in a zoo) another creature. It looked like a horse with a lion's mane, a long lion's tail, a curved, forked horn in the middle of its forehead, and snake scales down its back. Then a minotaur stomped down the street - I recognized it without being told. Short legs ending in massive hooves, a torso covered in coarse gray fur with long, monkey-like arms - and a heavy bull head on broad shoulders. The creature's only clothing was a bandage wrapped around its loins.

"This is the port area," Alyatara explained, seeing how interested I was in the crowd. "There are always a lot of foreigners here. Especially these days, when the Princess of Friendship has supported the opening of the borders. Oh, here we are!"

She pointed to a covered platform with wicker chairs. Above the entrance was a griffon with outspread wings, a sign proudly proclaiming "Wing and Hoof."

“What do you prefer?” an earth pony in an apron approached the table. I must pay tribute to her - when she saw me, her gaze flickered for only a second.

"I'd like some Pranch fries with Lucerne sauce, if possible," Alyatara asked. "And my friend would like something from the Griffon cuisine. And two mugs of cider."

I glanced at the menu. It was a mistake – my gaze was immediately drowned in the bizarre names. Desperate to choose, I simply poked my finger at random at an appetizing-looking picture.

Hopefully it won't turn out to be some fresh rabbit intestines with a side dish of undigested grass.

In general, the cafe looked like it deserved three stars at most. Stains on the crooked tables, a fly-specked lamp under the ceiling, unwashed windows... Oh well, let's hope it doesn't affect the quality of the food. The far table was occupied by five people... ahem... griffin creatures, who were enthusiastically discussing something among themselves. Two earth ponies, their heads bowed towards each other, were quietly talking two tables away from us.

However, it is not my position to be picky.

"How do you like Manehattan?" Alyatara asked.

“It’s impressive,” I answered honestly. “Well, like… Our world doesn’t have that kind of diversity, I guess. There are people of different skin colors, but to be like that… Now I really feel like this is a different world.”

I think I said something wrong. Alyatara winced.

“What's happened?”

“No. No, nothing... just more stupid rumors.”

“About humans?” I guessed. Alyatara blushed.

“Ask, don't be shy. I promise I'll answer honestly.”

The unicorn kicked the table with her hoof.

“Well... I heard that at one time you exterminated all other sapients in your world.”

I chuckled.

“It happened a long time ago, Alyatara. Tens of thousands of years ago. So long ago that even the memory of those times has not been preserved.”

“Then how do you know about this?”

“Excavations, genetic research... I don't know much about it myself. But these were, by the way, species very closely related to ours. There has never been such a kaleidoscope as you have here. By the way, scientists seem to have found traces of these species in our own genes, so it is not known for sure whether we exterminated them or merged with them. I'm telling you, it was many thousands of years ago. We do indeed fight a lot... but we try not to allow the extermination of entire nations.”

At that moment the waitress put the trays down on our table and I stopped.

Raised the cold mug.

“Well, how about to drink at the acquaintance?” I belatedly realized that the ponies might not have this custom.

“At the acquaintance,” either it was, or Alyatara guessed from the meaning. The mugs clinked.

The drink tasted like a weak, cool beer, only with an apple flavor. It was not bad. I pulled the plate toward me and cautiously poked at the contents with my fork.

My fears, fortunately, were not realised - the dish most resembled ordinary meat in French. Only the portion was frankly too small, for two bites. And a bit tough, as if it consisted of only cartilage.

“Alyatara,” something suddenly occurred to me and I cautiously put down my fork. “And what do griffins eat?”

“Well...” she moved her ear, “pigs, sheep, cows. Regular cattle, I guess. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just like that,” I threw a new portion into my mouth with relief. “Just don't laugh, but I thought that maybe it's customary for you here to eat each other?”

Alyatara snorted, cider splattering from her mug.

“Oh!” she magnetized a napkin to her hoof.

"It's a trifle," I waved it off. I started wiping my jacket with another napkin; fortunately, the durable fabric didn't seem to be too damaged by the splashes. The unicorn on the other side of the table thought about it.

"Eating sapients is a crime," she said firmly. "Both here and overseas. I don't know about the half-intelligent, but we don't slaughter animals that understand speech for meat either. Although, like in Griffonstone..." she also looked at my plate thoughtfully.

I set it aside, feeling another wave of culture shock roll in. I let out a VHS.

At that moment the sun dived from the sky and darkness fell. I watched as a wave of shadow glided along the street, and after it, one after another, the chains of lanterns flashed.

I looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Alyatara. Can I ask another question?”

“Of course,” the unicorn leaned back in her chair.

“A light bulb,” I pointed my finger upward at a huge faceted crystal that was emitting a faint glow.

Alyatara followed my gesture.

“A. Yes, I noticed that too. As I said, this is the port area, unicorns are more common here. It must be easier to charge them here.”

She noticed my pitiful look.

“Oh, you don't know. Well, yes, it's magical. A crystal enchanted to glow. Very convenient, no wires or pipes needed.”

“But at your home...”

“Well, I'm a unicorn, of course, but I'm far from a real magician. It will take me two weeks to charge the crystal, even if I figure out how to do it. Firefly lamps are too dim. And with an electric one - no worries. Another thing is that they break down faster, and you need to carefully choose a bulb so that it fits the standards of the electrical network to which you are connected. And in old neighborhoods this is a problem. Not everywhere there is place for a new trench for pipes, and where there is, gas pipes are often already laid.”

“For pipes?” I lost the thread of the conversation.

“Well, yes, for the wires.”

I looked at Aljatara with confusion.

“What does this have to do with...” it dawned on me. I really hadn't seen a single cable line on the street, despite the fact that there were plenty of electric lights.

“Don’t you use electricity on your Earth?” Alyatara asked, puzzled.

“We use it, but we usually throw the wires through the air.”

“Through the air?” the interlocutor now answered with an uncomprehending look.

“Well, yes. Every hundred or so meters we stick in a special support pole and attach wires to it...”

“Isn't it dangerous? What if the support suddenly fails and the insulation gets damaged?”

It seems there is no point in telling her that we do not insulate high-voltage power lines at all. Otherwise, I will not be the only one with culture shock.

“We’re used to it,” I shrugged.

The noise of conversations from the griffin table grew louder. Now they began to sing something rhythmically mournful in their guttural, clucking voices. I winced – the sound resembled a mix of a cat concert and the sounds of a henhouse. Alyatara also twitched her ears in displeasure.

“Oh-ho-ho!” suddenly came from behind me. “What I see here!”

Alyatara's eyes widened. I turned around.

And almost fell off his chair.

The creature on the right stood on two legs and had two four-fingered clawed hands.

No. It stood on one leg. The other was replaced by a prosthesis, lined with some kind of dull green stone. Jade, maybe.

The resemblance to a human being was limited to two-armedness and two-leggedness (one-leggedness). The bird's head, the chest that was visible through the cut of the purple leather jacket, neck and shoulders of the creature were covered with pure white feathers. A dense layer of white and green feathers descended from the back of the creature's head, falling on the shoulders. Above the predatory curved beak, large eyes with scarlet irises looked at me.

The birdman was dressed in a purple leather jacket with gold braid and short puffed pants. His head was covered by a huge tricorn hat. The hilt of a long blade was visible from under the hem of the jacket.

The creature on the left stood on two legs and had two four-fingered clawed hands.

This was the extent of his resemblance to a human. And also the long black hair on his head. Which merged into the smooth black fur of a cat's muzzle. With large green eyes and narrow slit pupils, and sharp triangular ears.

The catman was dressed in a black skirt and a gold necklace with a shiny pendant. A small bag was slung over his shoulder, and a dagger was pulled down from the belt.

The creature in the middle stood on two legs and had two five-fingered hands.

He was dressed in an unbuttoned green jacket, revealing a tanned black chest, and leather pants, he wore a pair of boots on his feet, and a saber on his belt.

And at first glance it was no different from a human being.

“Hola, amigo! Have I finally met a human face in this city?!”

“Uh... Hello.”

"I can't believe my eyes!" the Pirates of the Caribbean character kicked the chair next to him. "Are you really one of those poor wretches that Her Highness deigned to release from the Ponyville lockup? How long have you been in Manhattan, friend? "

“For the second week. Both here and in Equestria,” I still didn't know where to stare, either at the unexpectedly met compatriot or at his colorful companions. The ornithoid made some clicking phrase in a language unknown to me, the cat-man answered in the same language.

“Sorry, skipper!” the pirate jumped up and stood at attention.

“Boy, meet the most fearsome captain of all who have sailed the skies over Zebrica and southern Equestria - Lady Celaeno, commander of Swiftwing! And her worthy third mate, Tabitha Shadowpaw! And your name is...”

“Uh... Evgeniy.”

“Alyatara,” the unicorn decided to take part in the conversation.

The pirate bowed to Aliatara and shook my hand vigorously.

"I am Marco Serrano, Seventh. Second Mate and Supercargo of the Swiftwing," he said. "I am pleased to meet an Earthman in these parts. May I treat you and your companion?"

The ornithoidean clicked its beak.

“Again, my apologies, Captain!” the pirate turned to her. “May I request a short leave for the rest of the day for me and Lady Tabitha? It's not often that you meet a planetmate in the midst of a pony city, and especially one who has just been brought to this world.”

"Have fun," the bird captain said in a clucking accent. "And try not to get into fights. I'll deduct your bail from your share."

“Yes!” the pirate clicked his heels. The cat girl gracefully sat down on the next chair.

"Do you speak Spanish?" Marco asked, looking at me thoughtfully. "I haven't practiced my native language in ages. Well, three and a half years."

I shook my head.

“I'm from Russia.”

“Well then, let's speak Equestrian,” Marco snapped his fingers. “Hey, filly! Be so kind as to have four mugs of your best cider for me and my friends!”

He turned his gaze to me.

“Well, tell me. I won't ask how you ended up in Equestria - we all got here the same way. Tell me how you got to Manehattan and why the princess didn't grab you and send you off to learn about friendship and harmony?”

I scratched the back of my head, collecting my thoughts.

“Well... it just happened. Actually, thanks to Alyatara. She agreed to be my guarantor.”

The pirate chuckled.

“My, my. You have a good heart, lady. And you, my friend, are very lucky. This loophole will soon be closed.”

Alyatara smiled.

“At first I almost rushed to the guards myself. We were told so many dirty rumors about people! Some were even reprinted by my newspaper. I am ashamed to admit, but at that time I believed them in all seriousness...”

"What paper is that? «Manehattan World»?" the cat girl asked. Her voice was low and velvety, not at all in keeping with her slender figure.

“Well, yes. And where are you from...”

At that moment the waitress brought the cider. Marco lifted the mug and sipped the yellowish liquid. He winced.

“It’s not hard to guess,” Tabitha took a sip too. “It’s the only newspaper in Manehattan whose editorial board belongs to a unicorn. And it publishes what the old unicorn families of Canterlot will like. And they’re not too happy about Celestia being replaced by Twilight. So, not openly, but they criticize most of her reforms. Including the human adaptation project.”

Alyatara blushed.

“I... I didn't think...”

“Oh, come on,” I encouraged her. “You’re not responsible for the political games of your bosses.”

Marco sighed.

“To be honest, we gave the pony a lot of reasons ourselves. At the very beginning, when the transfer had just begun, there were... bad things, buddy. Alas.”

“What bad things?” I asked point-blank.

The pirate looked around.

"I could tell you about it - it just so happens that I know the story in detail," he lowered his voice. "But generally speaking, you didn't choose the right place; this is a portside bar after all. That bunch over there," he pointed at the griffons, "are about to get fit and start looking for someone to preen their feathers. I'd be happy to limber up, of course, but we have ladies with us."

I looked around. Yes, the voices from the griffon table were getting drunker and angrier, with predatory growls intertwined every now and then. Alyatara laid her ears back. Tabitha grinned, baring her fangs.

“Are we leaving?”

"Let's just finish the cider," Marco followed his own advice, knocking back his mug. "Since we've already paid for it. Tell you what, if you come with us, I'll not only show you a great place where we can sit in peace, but I'll also treat you to a bottle of real Griojo from South Ardragon!"

He stood up, heading for the exit. We followed him. The griffons turned their heads, seeing us off with dissatisfied clucks, one made a movement as if he was going to get up. Alyatara moved closer to me. Tabitha met the eagle-lion's gaze, bared her teeth and casually lowered her hand to the hilt of her dagger. The griffin withered.

Now I felt myself... no, not in a parallel world. That was already a stage I had passed. In a novel about time travelers.

The semi-basement of the tavern – it was hard to call this place a bar or a cafe – was lit by dim tongues of bluish flame. The gas lamps looked like dragon heads sticking out of the walls, with fire bursting out of their mouths.

Heavy tables made of solid oak planks, narrow lancet windows covered with cast-iron bars. Uneven log walls, a stone floor with hay scattered across it. Heavy beer kegs at the far end of the room, behind the bar.

Of course, I guessed that all this was "antique" decor. But it looked impressive.

The bartender, a barrel-thick earth pony, slowly approached our table. He greeted Marco ceremoniously. He took our order and disappeared into the depths of the establishment.

Marco leaned back on the bench, putting his hands behind his head.

“So, buddy. You want to know what happened when the first humans got here?”

“Yes, perhaps. And at the same time, how did you end up in Manhattan?”

“And why weren’t you detained by the guards and sent to the camp like the others,” added Alyatara, the unicorn’s eyes sparkling with curiosity.

The pirate grinned.

“Because I'm not an Equestrian, buddy. I'm a good subject of their majesties King Gomez and Queen Morticia. And so is Lady Shadowpaw. So Committee has no reason, much less the right, to grab me by the short hair”

“Besides, we rarely visit Equestria,” the cat added. “This time we stopped in Manehattan to recharge the gravcrystals. It’s not cheap as it is. It’s better to spend money on an Equestrian flight than to look for a unicorn with the necessary spell outside of Equestria.”

I leaned forward.

“Grav... what?”

“Oh yeah, they didn't show that in the cartoon,” nodded Marco. “Actually, "gravcrystal" is not a very accurate name, but it has stuck over the last hundred years. You see, all, or almost all, airships stay in the air thanks to magic. The lifting force of pure hydrogen is not enough to lift such a mass into the air. But naked levitation magic is also too expensive. Usually, a spell is used that reduces the weight of the gas in the shell, and another one, related to the aerokinesis of pegasi, which slows the leak. As a result, the carrying capacity increases tenfold with minimal expenditure of magic. So you can fly for a year or two without worrying about updating the spells. Of course, if the master unicorn is good.

I didn't understand anything, but thought it best to put off asking questions.

Marco drove the corkscrew into the cork with a confident movement and poured the wine into the glasses. Tabitha sucked in her breath.

“Ardragon Coast, nine hundred and ninety-two,” she drawled.

“Can you tell by the smell of the wine?” Alyatara’s ears turned forward.

“No. It’s just that this bottle was from the batch we were delivering to Manehattan,” Tabitha laughed. “We weren’t going to Equestria empty, were we?”

I'm not much of an expert on wine, of course.

But it was clearly good. Tart, pleasantly tinged with resin and grape, cooling the mouth and warming the throat.

Alyatara took a sip and closed her eyes with pleasure. Marco emptied half the glass in a long gulp.

"Well," he said, "I can tell you the story of the first isekaied, as it happens, in all its details. After all, as I already said, I am the Seventh."

“The seventh?”

“Yes. There were few of us back then for numbers to make sense. I was the seventh human to die and end up in Equestria. And we, you know, try to pick up rumors about each other.”

He took another sip. Alyatara stared at the pirate with wide eyes. Tabitha twirled the glass in her fingers, it was obvious that she had heard this story before.

“It all started about three and half years ago, before the abdication of the diarchs. If we go by seasons, then at the very beginning of the sixth.”

I didn't quite understand what he was talking about, but I decided not to interrupt him.

“The First,” Marco drew a line with his fingernail on the oak tabletop.

“He's from somewhere in New York, a big fan of the show. They say he could remember every episode by heart. It all went pretty much like a standard fanfic. He got into a traffic accident and came to in the Castle of the Two Sisters. He roamed around there for a while, then managed to get out of the forest to Ponyville. He met the Crusaders, who took him to Twilight.

“Twilight, at that time, if you remember, was only one of the three. She became interested in this phenomenon, tried to study humans. Then she told Celestia...” Marco paused.

“From that moment on, nothing is known about him. Some say Celestia sent him to Tartarus. Or turned him into stone. Others believe that he was drained of all possible knowledge about the series, and put in a luxurious prison cell somewhere under Canterlot. Still others - that he was turned into a pony, despite the fact that this is considered impossible, and he lives peacefully under a false name and appearance somewhere in Equestria.”

A new notch appeared on the tabletop.

“The Second.”

I waited silently for him to continue.

“It was stupid. He was also thrown into the Everfree, and he couldn't think of anything better to do than drink stagnant water. He got out of the forest a week later, already extremely weak.”

“He was discovered by ponies from a small village east of Ponyville. They probably could have helped him now, but the local doctor had no idea how to treat humans back then. Anyway, may he rest in peace.”

Marco made another mark.

“The Third. Killed the pony.”

I felt the warm fur of Alyatara on my shoulder as the unicorn moved closer to me. Her fur stood on end.

“They don't really know what happened. They found tracks and the body of a foal. Perhaps he got scared when the filly ran into him. Perhaps he was mentally damaged by the transfer. Either way, he hid the remains and went into the forest. From there, his tracks are lost.”

The fourth white stripe on the board.

“The Fourth.”

“He still lives in Canterlot. By the way, one of yours, Russians. The ponies were on guard after what happened to the Third. So he was quickly brought before Celestia, where they also squeezed out all the knowledge about the show. Then, having made sure that he was safe, they put him to work.”

“The guy turned out to be a tech savvy guy, so he was included in the commission for the evaluation and implementation of Earth developments. Of course, not weapons - you can imagine how Twilight reacted to the story about nuclear bombs. But they are trying to implement some technical innovations into life. For example, the new radio on the Swiftwing is their brainchild.”

“By the way, he's the only one who made the fans' dream come true - he got a mistress from the show. Not from the Six, obviously. Someone from the secondary characters, either Pie or Apple,” he scratched the back of his head. “I'm starting to forget the details. When the show becomes reality...”

Fifth notch.

“The Fifth,” Marco darkened. “We owe this idiot mainly for the fact that humans are looked at as monsters.”

“I don't know what went through his head after the isekai. Maybe he decided he ended up in one big pony harem. Or maybe he was crazy before the transfer. Anyway... he attacked Fluttershy.”

Nearby, Alyatara quietly gasped.

“Attacked whom?”

“Fluttershy,” Marco stared at me as if I was mad. “Hello, buddy! Of course, I don’t remember the details myself…”

I shook my head.

“You won't believe it, but... I haven't watched this show.”

“What?” the pirate's jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Well, I saw a couple of episodes here and there. Until I found myself here, I didn't remember its existence.”

Marco shook his head.

“It's crazy. I didn't think something like this was possible. I can imagine what you thought when you found yourself here...”

“I didn't think anything. Basically, I was just shocked.”

“And what does this mean? Now this thing will swallow those who have no idea about ponies?”

“These guys from the secret services couldn't believe it either. I still have to go to them for a second interrogation. I hope it won't occur to them to cut me open just to be sure.”

Marco chuckled.

“Well, so here it is. Fluttershy. So you understand - she is the idol of a good half of the male fans.”

“Luckily for himself, he didn't manage to do anything serious to her. Discord intervened.”

I felt Alyatara flinch.

“He…” the unicorn muttered.

“I don’t know the details,” Marco held out his palm. “Nobody knows them anyway. After Twilight’s personal request, Discord took pity on him and let the poor bastard go. But by that time… Anyway, this guy is still being held in a Canterlot hospital in a padded ward. He hasn’t uttered a single articulate word in three years. And to feed him, they have to tie him up.”

Tabitha yawned. She began tossing and catching her dagger without taking it out of its sheath. From a close distance, I noticed that the blade and sheath were tied together with thin wire.

Marco's fingernail scraped across the table.

“The Sixth.”

“Everything turned out... relatively acceptable with him. Everything he could tell was already known from the First and the Fourth. He couldn't boast of anything particularly useful for the ponies either. He was kept in isolation for some time, and was released after six months. He wandered around Equestria for a long time, and eventually settled down as a farmhand on some farm near the capital. He lives there to this day.”

“And you were next?”

"Exactly. Well, there may have been a few more before me, but cragadiles and manticores weren't kind enough to tell us about them. So I guess I can lay claim to that title by right," he puffed out his chest.

“How did you die?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Marco's gaze suddenly became very uncomfortable and cold.

“Sorry if I asked something stupid,” I blurted out hastily. “For example, I stepped on some soap in the shower and hit my head.”

The pirate stared at me for another second, then relaxed.

"Trifle," he said calmly. "You know, I was just coming home from a convention where I picked up a Rarity collectible. Now I had all six. I was so excited I didn't notice these guys."

“They showed me a knife. Told me to give up everything valuable. You won't believe it, but I felt so sorry for the figurine...”

“I slapped one and started running. But I tripped. They caught up with me and knocked me down. I saw the knife, but I didn't have time to do anything,” he pulled apart the flaps of his jacket, showing a scar just above his stomach.

“Well, that's it. I came to on the outskirts of the Everfree. At first, of course, I didn't understand what had happened. I decided that they had taken me for a dead man and taken my body somewhere into the thicket.”

“Then... then it was boring. I trudged along the edge of the forest for a long time and hoped to reach the dwelling. If I had gone the other way, I would have reached Ponyville by evening, and now I would probably be gobbling up gruel from the generosity of the Princess of Friendship.”

"You don't regret it?" Tabitha asked. Marco grinned and flicked the cat girl on the ear.

“I walked for two days. I saw rocks in the distance. My stomach was already starting to ache from hunger, although I had fortified myself with berries and a couple of bird eggs. I started to think about what to do next - and then I was caught,” he snapped his fingers in the air.”

“The ground suddenly gave way under my feet. If they hadn't thrown a bag over my head, I would have taught them a good lesson, but at that moment I was a little taken aback. I started screaming and kicking my legs - and in response they started to bust my ribs.”

“Well, that's it. When I came to my senses a little, I saw these creatures. Now I know that they were diamond dogs, but then my heart almost was in my throats.”

“It was another sortie. For gems and, if they're lucky, for slaves and valuables. In general, their clans are wary of entering Equestrian territory, but the dumbest and most reckless sometimes try. The Wonderbolts and the guard chase them when they catch them - but what good are the Wonderbolts underground?”

"They tried before," Tabitha corrected. "They've lost the will to try again lately. Especially since Duke Capper banned the slave trade in Klugetown."

“Yes. But then I had the chance to fully appreciate the advantages of the slave market. And before that - to drag sacks of loot after the pack enough. And to wander through the Desert of Bones as part of a slave caravan.”

He took a sip from his glass.

“So. I was acquired by the Storm King's buyers. They decided to entertain their lord with a foreign curiosity,” he grinned. “Well, in the end I entertained them, though not in the way they planned. They captured Tabby a little earlier, that's how we met...”

"And then," Tabitha continued, "Lady Celaeno decided that she had suffered too much humiliation from Storm's servants to turn Swiftwing into a slave ship. And we have served under her command ever since."

“It’s incredible,” the unicorn muttered. “It’s like I heard a retelling of the new Daring Do novel…”

Marco chuckled.

“Only in novels they don't write about how stinks of a diamond dog's shit. Or a slave hold, especially when you haven't been released for five days in a row.”

“Well, “he sipped his wine. “After that, the number of isekaied kept growing, so soon they stopped assigning numbers. You know, kid, I don’t blame Twilight too much. For every one who could be useful to ponies, there were three or four dead weights. Add those who went nuts after death and transfer. The problem snowballed. This idea with the camp was conceived, I suppose, as a temporary palliative. Ha-ha.”

I took a sip of wine too.

“How many people are there here in total?”

“I don’t even know. Around a couple thousand, probably. The average rate now is one person a day, but it’s picked up in recent years. That’s what I’ve heard. You know, I’ve been keeping a little eye on this. In general, what I mean is that when you throw a few hundred people with rats in the attic into a glass jar and let them suffer from idleness, nothing good can be expected. The ponies probably didn’t realize it right away. They’re not like that, man. A highly social species, low intra-group conflict and all that. They underestimated how quarrelsome we can be.”

“I think you could be like that too,” Aliatara said quietly. “If you really wanted to learn friendship.”

Marco sighed.

“That's what Twilight probably thought too. And she tried to teach. It worked... how it worked.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “Okay. Listen, I wanted to ask you something. I see you’ve gotten used to this world.”

“What is, is,” Marco chuckled.

“What should I do? Since we can't go back, I want to cling to something. To understand how to live in this world. What to do, where to find my place.”

The pirate became gloomy.

"How's your combat experience?" Tabitha suddenly asked.

“No way,” I answered, surprised. “I never even served in the army.”

“What can you do?”

“Well... on Earth I was a small salesman. And I did some metalworking for fun. I studied to be a programmer, but I didn't finish my studies.”

The cat girl shook her head.

“Sorry. We need sapient ones who are either useful in the air or can ring steel during boarding. The captain won't hire a sailor who needs to be taught from scratch.”

“So you... really are pirates?” Alyatara's eyes became like two saucers.

Marco laughed again.

You wonder what, and never how.

I know a little of navigation:

War, trade, and piracy, allow,

As three in one, no separation.

He recited. Probably some pony poetry.

“Actually, lady pony, we are not pirates. We are honest privateers with an official patent of the Abyssinian Kingdom. We do not rob - we provide security services. To those ships that agree to pay for it.”

He grinned wolfishly.

“For some reason, everyone agrees.”

"But Tabby's right," he went on. "Equestria is a utopia in many ways, boy, but the world beyond... Sometimes we intercept slave ships - the slave trade died out after the war, but it didn't disappear. And then we have the work for blades. Sorry.”

“It’s okey,” I spread my hands. Indeed, starting a pirate career… would be interesting, but scary.

"Try to find other relatives," Tabitha advised. "Even in Manehattan, I heard, there are humans, albeit only a few. It's easier together."

“That’s not a good idea,” Marco suddenly objected. “Most humans in Equestria, even those who managed to escape the camp, have achieved little. We are outsiders here, I must admit. Scary ones. Menial work for a handful of bits is the maximum a human can do here. I’m not talking about myself now, of course,” he put his hands on his hips.

“What I would advise you is to remember what from your human past could be useful here. After all, we have an extra hundred years of progress behind us. If you manage to become useful, they will stop seeing you as a monster.”

“Evgeniy is not a monster!” Alyatara stood up for me.

“But many of your compatriots don’t think so,” Tabitha objected. The unicorn winced, but didn’t argue.

“Or try going to the outskirts,” the cat girl turned to me. “The West, the South, the Crystal Empire... they need workers there, and even the ponies there don't care who you are, as long as you want and can work. Maybe even to Klugetown. Life under Capper's rule has started to improve there, although it's far from normal. And against the backdrop of the zoo there... no one there cares, even if you're a draconequus.”

“Maybe I'll try. I'm not allowed to leave Manehattan for now.”

Tabitha drained her glass.

“Isn't it time for us? The captain will give us a good scolding if we're late for the evening roll call.”

“That's right,” Marco stood up and pushed the bench aside. “You know what, buddy? Here you go.”

A small purse fell on the table with a jingling sound.

“Don’t think this is charity,” the pirate interrupted my attempts at protest. “It’s a loan. You’ll pay it back the next time we meet. I hope that by then you’ll have something to jingle in your pockets.”

Alyatara also stood up.

“You know,” she said, looking at Marco, “I think you humans are better than you think you are.”

Tabitha chuckled.

“Definitely. I'll say more...” she leaned towards the unicorn's ear and whispered something.

Alyatara squealed. She backed away, leaning against the table. The fur on her face turned red.

"Excuse me?" I asked, puzzled. Tabitha burst out laughing.

“Uh...” Aliatara drawled. “It was very nice to meet you! Forgive me, but it's time for us to go too!” she moved decisively towards the exit.

“Then - see you later. And good luck to you, my friend,” Marco heartily slapped me on the shoulder. We shook hands, and I hurried after my guide, throwing rustling hay with my feet.

“What did she tell you?” I asked curiously, already outside, having caught up with the unicorn. It was night, or rather, late evening, but here, due to the absence of the usual twilight, it was no different from night. Hooves were clicking and wings were flapping around. A cool breeze was blowing from the embankment.

“Nothing,” she snapped decisively. “Except stupid jokes.”

Place will find you

“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.”

Assemble the elements

“ What are you doing?” Alyatara's curious face leaned over my notebook.

I involuntarily shuddered and tried to cover the leaves with my hand.

“Oh!” pony blashed. ”Is this a secret?”

“ Uh... It’s not that. Look if you want it," I murmured.

Alyatara thoughtfully studied my handdrawing.

“It looks like some kind of a sketch,” she held out thoughtfully. “What is this?”

I slowed down.

“It is... one of my little ideas. I ask for forgiveness. Will you not be offended if I do not tell you in detail yet?”

Alyatari's eyes widened.

“Well... I'm not going to be offended. I am surprised, perhaps.”

“ Yes, I am not sure that it will work. I want to think through everything first and check it out, and then brag about it if it pans out. And to not jinx it, of course.”

The unicorn laughed.

“I did not think that humans are superstitious.”

“We can be different,” I smiled.

“ Maybe you'll tell me?” Alyatara was interested. “Now I will suffer from curiosity.”

“I am an alien conqueror. I am supposed to make suffer poor defenseless ponies.”

Alyatara came forward.

“ Understandably. These are drawings of terrible human weapons. With its help you planned to capture all of Equestria, but I unraveled your insidious plan!” she cried out.

I grabbed my head dramatically.

“Oh no, my villainous plan is on the verge of collapse! But I know how to make you shut up, little brave little unicorn!”

“And how?”

I reached to the door of the refrigerator.

“Treat with cupcakes”

“Pfft!” Alyatara snorted, just like a real horse. “Cupcake at twenty minutes to midnight? Don't even ask. I will stand firm and not succumb to temptation.”

“ You know what?”

“Hmmm?”

“You are not so fat.”

“This was the most terrible compliment that somepony gave me for the last twenty years” Alyatara stomped her hoof on the parquet. “I go to sleep. Don't stay too long for villainous plans.”

“Yes, mommy.”

Instead of answering, she stuck out her tongue.

I brought two thick folios to myself. The first one was named "The catalogue of commercial enterprises, trading houses, public institutions and offices of the city of Manehattan". The second one, less – "Universal Annual Catalog of ironmongery and manufactured goods".

It's strange that they don't have telephones here. It's like on our planet the first telephones appeared ten years earlier than the lamps. Or am I confusing something? And there is a radio - I saw with my own eyes on one of the central streets a shop window with bulky radio receivers like a large suitcase.

Well, we'll think about the invention of telephones later. Send letters? No, too long and lot of troubles. I will have to run.

Yes, but how? If half of who meet me are looking at me how about an alien monster?

Okay, stop panicking! I had gone not once to a meeting with buyers who sign a deal at the 10-digit sums without looking (well, twice is also counts! Even if at the first meeting my task was to sit with a smart look, take note and change the slides in the projector in time!). And I cosplayed there "The Wolf of Wall Street", selling them the pens. In the literal sense, among other paper and office nomenclature. Am I not up to the task of charming a couple of talking cathorses from a pastoral-idyllic world with princesses and castles?

Hold on, Equestria! Image is nothing, thirst is… oh, it seems from another story.

But I really wanted to drink. I got up and pour water from the carafe. I went to the window and looked at the lacework of bare branches in the moonlight.

That means I have to work on my image. I have first ideas. It's a pity, of course, that I'll have to collect some bills… But it's stupid to save on entertainment expenses.

It's good that I didn't sneer at work on weekends, so that they're unlikely to look at me askance in the theater if I ask for a couple of breaks during the day. Fortunately, we have most work on weekends.

And it’s very good that I prudently did not touch the bits received from Marko. Limiting the settlements with Alyatara for food and shelter (unicorn kicks it out by all the hooves).

«Stinky Bottom's Discount Hat Emporium welcomes ev… eh… khm… welcomes… any kind of buyer!” a heavy earth pony of a light-orange color stared at me in both eyes, but still he found it in himself to finish the welcoming speech.

I was amazed at his massive chin. Covered with red hair and coarse black bristle.

Come on. I see a pony with a beard growing for the first time.

“Hmm!” salesman reminded about himself.

On his side was seen the image of a purple cylinder, exactly like the one that adorned his head - specially chosen, probably.

“Good day. I would like to buy a hat.”

“Hat?” the merchant stared at me, as, perhaps, we would have seen on Zabrak or Krogan who have gone to a shoe store for a pair of boots. “Emm, and does your species wear hats, mister?”

“Finally,” I tried to give a more charming smile. “Otherwise, why would I buy it?”

“It sounds logical,” the pony scratched the back of his head with his hoof. “What purpose do you need a hat for?”

“To wear?” I assumed. Other variants of its use were not presented to me at all. Although... this is Equestria, who knows what is supposed to be done with hats, according to their cultural models? Maybe they use them as a trash can? Or do they keep sandwiches in them?

“To wear,” the pony nodded. “Understandable. But how? When? Why? Do you need an elegant sombrero for a picnic? A bowler for a walk along the Bridleway? A top hat for a trip to Madison Mare Garden?”

“I wanted to... something for business negotiations. You know, that's it” I waved my hand in the air indefinitely, as if lifting an imaginary headwear.

“Business negotiations. Oh yes, I know what offer to you,” the merchant turned around. Critically studied the rows of hats of all shapes and sizes, hanging behind the shelf.

“ Welcome!”

He picked up with his teeth a stick with a wooden hook at the end. With its help he took off one of the hats hanging under the ceiling and held it out to me.

“In this felt hat you will look like Fancy Pants himself, I'm ready to bet.”

I looked at the hat. It was soft, gray, with a blue ribbon around its neck. I twisted it in my hands.

“ Hm,” I demonstrated to the seller a stain of unclear origin from the bottom of the field.

“Oh, yes, this is just dust!” the seller grabbed the hat with one hoof and began to wave it with a whisk. The stain stubbornly did not want to disappear.

“Then how about this bowler?” spitting out the broom and not at all discouraged, he grabbed the hook.

It looked better already. Solid black velvet, no stains and scuffs. I put it on my head, turned to the mirror.

Hmm. A gray business three-piece suit (which came at the cost), a bow tie, a bowler. I look like a middle-level mobster from the "Godfather".

Only sandals on the feet spoil the impression.

What to do. To find normal shoes in a world where there are no plantigrades types as a class - that's quite the task. No, it is possible to order from a shoemaker (or how are they called manufacturers of hoofshoes?) sewing on order - if I could afford this service. A pair of sandals that was honestly won by Philip at the card and matched to size perhaps are the only shoe in this part of Equestria. Don't count the shoes of Philip.

Well, okay. Fortunately, the ponies themselves do not suspect that light sandals are not exactly the kind of shoes in which I would decently appear at a business meeting. But the meanings of hats was known for them well.

«How much is it?”

“ Seventeen bits.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“ It seemed to me that these were second-hand hats.”

“The new one would cost twenty,” the pony let out a very high-quality VHS. ”Alright, mister, from attention to you - fifteen.”

I think I understood the rules of the game.

“Well, I don't even know. Maybe I should go to Flea Market, find something that I can afford...”

“Twelve gold bits and one silver one, - he cut off the pony. - Or you can actually search on the market.”

I didn't bother anymore and reached for money.

The light gray earth pony behind the reception desk looked up at me in fear.

“Good evening,” I politely raised my hat, sincerely pleased with my decision not to save money.

“G-good evening, mister,” the secretary muttered. The familiar gesture, however, calmed her down; she pulled some ledger towards her, turning around.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” I put on my most charming smile. “But I’d like to talk to your management. About a prospective order.”

“Do you want to sell something?” the ledger slammed shut.

“Oh no. Buy something. If your company can make what I need.”

The earth pony looked confused. Well, that was logical. My appearance and my intention to buy something clearly didn't go together.

“Okay,” she muttered at last. “I’ll let Mr. Sandfield, our supply manager, know that you’d like to speak to him. If he’s free, he’ll see you.” She rang a small bronze bell. A small earth pony colt, shorter than my waist, appeared, and the secretary scribbled a few words on a post-it note and handed it to him.

I sat down on the bench, trying to project confidence. I began rereading the newspaper I had bought on the street for a silver coin. The first two pages were entirely devoted to debates about the selection of delegates for some event called the "Grand Equestria Summit." Then there was an advertisement offering anyone interested to buy advance tickets for a new tour by Songbird Serenade (a local pop diva, I assumed).

The foal messenger appeared again and whispered something to the secretary. She glanced sideways at me.

“Follow Bright, he will take you,” said the earth pony.

Mr. Sandfield was not in his office, as I had expected, but in one of the workrooms, a room with a great many cylindrical shafts on massive stands, with belts sliding behind safety grates, and dark gray sheets flying out of the shafts and slapping onto the conveyor belt. Earth ponies were milling about, turning valves, pulling levers, pushing carts, and generally not paying much attention to me.

I cleared my throat.

“MISTER SANDFIELD?”

“GREETINGS, SIR! - the pony yelled back over the hum of the machines. - ONE SECOND... OK, TAR STAIN! I NEED THE FINISHED SHEETS IN THE WAREHOUSE BY THE END OF THE DAY! IF YOU CAN'T...” he finally noticed the wide eyes of his pony interlocutor, turned around and looked at me more closely.

“HELLO!” I shouted, raising my hat.

"ERR... ONE MINUTE, SIR," Sandfield barked, having recovered from his surprise. He returned to his conversation with the pony in overalls, or at least that's what his - and everyone else's - clothing most closely resembled.

Finally, having let go of his interlocutor, who galloped off to the other end of the shop, Sandfield turned to me. He pointed with his hoof toward the exit from the workshop. I readily followed him, not wanting to strain my vocal cords. We stopped between the office and the production buildings, next to a cobblestone path.

“Er, good afternoon again, sir,” the pony looked at me with interest. “I was informed that you wanted to speak with me. Frankly, it is not every day that representatives of your kind come here on business matters. I would say, never.”

“Oh, yes,” I put on a polite smile. “Sir, my name is Evgeniy Komarov. I am planning to organize in Equestria a small production of some household items that my people use. In connection with this, I would like to buy some parts for them from you. If you can make them.”

“Hm. And what do you wish to purchase?” the pony looked interested.

I pulled out a notebook of sketches from my pocket.

“Look. I'm interested in two kinds of plastic parts. The first is a plastic tube about six and a half inches long and a third of an inch wide, tapered at one end and threaded at the other. The second is a thinner tube, five inches long and about four hundredths of an inch wide, with an internal channel about three hundredths of an inch wide.”

The pony grabbed the drawings with his hoof and looked at them closely.

“Plastic?” he asked, frowning. “You mean they change shape when you press them?”

Damn. The translation spell must have malfunctioned.

“Not exactly. I meant made of plastics.”

The pony's gaze became puzzled.

“I don't know what you call it. Synthetic material. It's extracted from oil,” I strained my memory, recalling half-forgotten chemistry lessons. “By distillation of gas fractions and polymerization, I think that's what it is.”

Sandfield nodded thoughtfully.

“From the description it looks like synthetic shellac. Well, we could make a batch of such parts, although the deadlines, deadlines and suppliers... Is it important to you that the product is made of synthetic shellac, or will regular shellac do?”

I shrugged.

“It will come into contact with printing ink. Will that have any effect?”

"It shouldn't," Sandfield muttered. He pulled his own notebook out of his mane (what the hell?!) and leafed through it. "Well, we have a supplier and a small line of equipment. What lot size are you interested in?"

“A trial is a hundred or two. And then we can go up to several thousand a month” I felt in my gut that if I answered "A few pieces to try", they would politely say goodbye to me.

“Yeah,” the pony nodded. “Well, a week to develop the project, a week to buy raw materials, and in another week we will be able to provide a pilot batch at twenty-five bits apiece. Although this is just a rough estimate, for exact figures I need to consult with the technologists.”

There must have been something in my expression that gave me away even to the ponies.

“Are you surprised? Shellac is an expensive material. It is not produced in Equestria, supplies come from Hathistan and Shire Lanka. And I am talking about the usual one, the synthetic one would be even more expensive. Earthy naphtha is a very rare substance, all over the world it is mined in a couple of oases of Saddle Arabia, then it needs to be brought in, a distillation unit needs to be built... In principle, it would be possible to use changeling resin, but you understand, with its import everything is generally on the verge of impossible.”

I nodded.

“I understand. Thank you for your consultation, Mr. Sandfield. It is quite possible that I will contact you with an order when all the technological issues are resolved.”

“Oh, as you wish. Here is my business card,” the pony handed me a rectangular card. Oddly enough - not paper, but something like thick black rubber, with a raised embossed font.

As I left the office of Equestrian Rubber and Paint Manufactory, I tried to be optimistic about everything.

After all, in our world, a stranger who showed up for a meeting with the factory management with sheer impudence and paper sketches in his pocket would have been politely shown the door. But here, they listened to me and politely explained the weak points in my plan.

But what now?

In principle, the body can be carved from wood. It is not even necessary to go to the factory for this - just have a machine and a workbench. Judging by what I saw in the workshop, there should be no problem with such things in Equestria.

But what to do with the rod?

I strained my memory, searching for scraps of knowledge. I used to do this as a hobby, and even though I did the final assembly from purchased parts, I studied the issue.

The rod can be made of steel. The only drawback is that it will be more expensive, and it will be more difficult to control the ink consumption. However, more expensive is not about Equestrian conditions.

If so, there is probably no need to order the unit and the rod separately. It is quite possible to simply insert one into the other and crimp the end. If, of course, the local engineers can handle the precision I need.

And anyway, the next item on my plan was the ironmongery factory. Well, let's go!

This time I was met in the office. At a table of green cloth, with a pile of folders and heavy leather bindings, with a massive forged inkwell. The red-sand earth pony sitting behind it cast a dark glance at me.

“Mr. Komarov,” she said through gritted teeth. “We do not cooperate with…” she paused, as if choosing her words, “with intelligent beings who are unable to provide references from respectable and honest ponies who have gained fame in business circles and are ready to vouch for their solvency with their own reputation. And considering that you, by your own admission, have been in Equestria for almost a month, I would venture to assume that you are unlikely to be able to secure the support of such guarantors in the near future. And even more so, it is not profitable for my enterprise to launch a project for the sake of such small volumes that you are talking about. I am forced to ask you to take your leave.”

Without showing any annoyance, I raised my hat.

“I hope that one day we will meet in a more business-friendly environment.”

“Very unlikely.”

Well. Such a reaction was to be expected. Okay, it's not night yet. But I need to make a note to myself - first of all, go around small workshops. Large factories are really unlikely to be interested in toiling over a small order.

Ideally, it would be a good idea to find a normal local consultant. Even for Equestria, such a method – running around potential suppliers and asking who would agree to make the necessary part – probably looks terribly archaic. This would probably only work in the our nineties – and even then, at most, in the early ones. Find a smart pony who knows the ins and outs of Manehattan, rent an office, a place, a small shop, hire workers – and launch the product.

There is just one "but". If you do everything as it should be - the gift from the pirates will be enough for the first point at best. I've familiarized myself with local prices enough.

If so, then get going and go. After all, what do I have to lose?

“Brass and steel, huh? Sorry, sir, but we don't do pipe rolling,” the chestnut pony glanced sideways at me for just a couple of seconds, and then continued to urge on the workers carrying a huge pulley across the factory yard. Some mysterious letters were glimmering on it with a blue phosphorescent light, which the unicorn in overalls was examining with concern as he walked.

“We don't work with non-ponies.”

“We are not interested in small parties.”

“Daisy Leaf won't be able to give you attention today. Come back another day.”

“We don’t have the equipment with the required precision.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“We can make brass tubes and tips in a couple of weeks, it’s not difficult in principle. But steel parts… We don’t have machines of the right size even for such thin tubes, not to mention turning the channels shown here!”

“No.”

“Contact Torsion Balance Instrument Shop, maybe they can make something similarЭ

“Hm-hm-hm,” another earth pony with a mark in the form of two balls connected by a thread raised her head from the tiny shiny copper details laid out on the linen tablecloth. She studied my sketches with interest.

"Do you really need that much adjustment?" she asked. "Am I reading this correctly? The gaps really need to be hundredths of an inch? And such a complex shape?"

“I'm afraid so. You see, it's all about the capillary effect.”

“I understand,” a blue and gray lock of hair swayed, escaping from under the kerchief. “And may I ask what these parts are for?”

“To be honest, it's a corporate secret. But in general, it will be... something like an improved ink tank,” I came up with an explaining on the fly. And I didn't even really lie.

“I see,” the pony tucked her mane back under her kerchief. “You know what I'll advise you - contact the workshops that repair and make watches. Such precision is their specialty, you'll have to work with a magnifying glass.”

“Thank you very much for your advice, Miss Balance,” I said warmly. It was probably the soundest idea I had been given today.

"I'll even give you the address of one of the craftsmen," Torsion scribbled something on a blank sheet of paper. "Here. His name is Bronze Arrow, and he works two blocks from here. Sometimes he does precision machining jobs for us."

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

"Oh, you're welcome," Torsion smiled. "Share what you have, the princess says."

Bronze Arrow was a middle-aged earth pony, red in color with a dark red mane and a cutie mark in the form of a clock face. When he saw me, he jumped up abruptly, almost knocking over the workbench he was working at.

“Are you a human?” he said breathlessly.

I bowed politely.

“You guessed it. Please don't worry, I have permission to live in Equestria and I'm not going to do anything dangerous.”

“Oh, I’m not worried at all,” Bronze shook his head. “I’m rather excited. You see, I’m very interested in your species. There’s so little information about Earth in the open press! Can I ask you any questions? All those amazing technologies your world is famous for… Automobiles, computers, television! I’d like to hear everything you can tell me without violating Her Highness’s prohibitions!”

I threw up my hands.

“I’m afraid I don’t know that much myself. Well, a car is a device I can imagine, although I wouldn’t undertake to explain how to make it from scratch. And the rest… I know about how they work, only in theory. I vaguely remember how to program a computer, but as for the internal structure…”

“What a pity,” the pony sighed. “Sometimes it seems to me that Princess Twilight is too cautious about introducing earthly inventions. No, I understand that she ultimately knows better, and there is nothing good in all these terrible wars and weapons… But the same radio – how much more fun it has made our everyday life!” He poked his hoof at a lacquered box covered with a white napkin, from which some pop tune was quietly coming.

“Ahem. I beg your pardon, Mr. Arrow, but I came to you on business.”

“Oh!” the earth pony even somehow pulled himself together and his face acquired a serious expression. “Tell me.”

It took about ten minutes to lay out all the nuances. The pony frowned, peered at the sketches, scratched his head with his hoof, and in the end, he snatched something tiny and shiny with tweezers that appeared out of nowhere and began to examine it through a magnifying glass, squinting at the paper with his other eye.

“Hardened steel blanks,” he finally said. “Hm. If we use gear blanks... The undercut is of a Discord complex shape, that's true, but in principle... in principle... The tubes can be ordered from Torsion, that's her area of expertise, and then the connection can be crimped,” I nodded silently, this idea had occurred to me too.

The pony raised his head sharply.

“Let's do it this way. In about three days, my guys and I will finish the urgent orders and get to yours. It will cost, with everything assembled - tip and tube - eight bits each. How many do you need made?”

“About ten pieces to try,” I said, not believing my success. “If everything works out…”

“You'll be able to pick it up by the beginning of next week. Come by on Thursday and have a look at the sample. If you like everything, we'll sharpen your ten. Pay when you pick up the goods. But on one condition!”

“What kind?”

“On Thursday we'll have a glass of cider together, and I'll ask you all about your home planet!”

“Agreed,” I chuckled.

“Then until Thursday?”

“See you on Thursday.”

Only when I stepped out onto the street, shrouded in the night darkness, and glanced at the clock face, did I realize that it was already twenty to eight. My legs were buzzing. How many places had I visited today?

Okay, it's too early to rejoice. Making the units and rods is just the beginning of the work. There are still many elements to assemble. And it's already costing a pretty penny. Before I fork out any serious cash, I'll still need to consult with Alyatara - how reasonable is my idea? Maybe I'm missing something? Some little thing that's obvious to the inhabitants of this world?

With Alyatara... And I didn't warn her that I was going to be late. And I didn't intend to make the unicorn worry... Damn, this is somehow awkward.

My gaze caught on the sign of a flower shop. Well, here is the solution to the problem.

The hat really did have a miraculous effect - the pony behind the counter did not shy away from me, but only looked at me with curiosity.

“A bouquet of delicious chamomile with lemon balm, please,” I put the silver half-bit on the counter.

“And… does your kind really eat chamomile, sir?” the salespony asked timidly.

“And this is for a pony I know,” I explained.

I'll have to stop by the drugstore near Alyatara's house on the way and buy an ice cream cone with oat sprouts. Or even two. The second one - without oats.

Elementary assembling

I woke up from somepony (somehuman!) gently shaking me by the shoulder.

“Stargaze. Hey, Stargaze.”

I raised my muzzle, rubbed my eyes with my hoof, and smoothed my mane.

“Oh.”

A cup of cold tea on the table, stars and the silence of the night (well, by Manehattan standards)...

“Yev'eni?”

“No, the Princess of Friendship herself,” the human chuckled. “Hello.”

I stretched, straightening my numb joints.

“Ouch. It's uncomfortable to sleep at the dining table!”

“That's what I thought too, and decided to wake you up,” the human grinned. “By the way, I brought some treats.

I took a deep breath of the bouquet's aroma. I bit off a decent bunch, feeling how the tart taste of chamomile was offset by the coolness of lemon balm.

“Thank you!” I got off the chair and levitated the glass with the uneaten bouquet into the refrigerator. “By the way, there's fried trout in the frying pan.”

“Thank you too!”

“True, it’s already cooled down... Listen, where have you been?”

Yev'eni, who was lighting a fire under the frying pan, turned around with a puzzled look.

“Do you remember I told you about my little idea today?”

I nodded. He put the frying pan with trout on the stove, disappeared into the corridor, rustled something in his pockets.

“Anyway, I seem to have found some ponies willing to make the parts it needs. To try, at least.”

I stared with interest at the sketches I had seen that morning, which depicted... I wasn't strong in engineering, but it seemed to me that these were some kind of tubes with a pointed end.

“What is this?”

The trout sizzled. Yev'eni placed the pan on a ceramic trivet. I couldn't resist and stole a small piece. The human smiled.

“Writing utensils.”

I looked at my neighbor in bewilderment, then at the drawing. It didn't look like a quill or pencil at all.

“How does it work?”

“Lookhf,” Yev 'eni chewed the fish and moved closer to me.

“This is the outer casing, for convenience. Nothing special, just a plastic tube - however, they are also made of metal or wood. There are screw caps on both ends so that the rod does not fall out. Actually, it's all about the rod.”

He pointed to a thinner tube pictured next to it.

“It's a thin tube, only a few hundredths of an inch in diameter. It's filled with ink. The ink is thicker than the stuff you use, so it doesn't leak out of the cavity.”

“Then how…?” I said in surprise.

"The trick is in this tip," Yev'eni pointed his finger at one end of the tube. The callout showed a close-up of the pointed tip.

“It is tightly attached to the tube. Inside there is a cavity of this shape, into which a tiny ball is inserted, to which ink flows through channels. When you move the tip over the paper, the ball rotates and leaves a line on the paper.”

“Compared to a pen, it’s somehow difficult,” I noted doubtfully.

The human shrugged.

“The main difficulty is that you need to press the pen harder to the paper to leave a line. Well, that's what I heard. They also say that writing suffers because of this. Although, as for me, the quill’s using likes chicken scratching. It's a matter of habit, I guess.”

“Well, it sounds interesting, of course... But what's the point? In Equestria there are no difficulties with quills and pencils.”

“Yes, but unlike quills, it’s virtually impossible to make a blot with this pen,” Yev’eni objected hotly. “And you don’t have to mess around with blotting paper and sand. And you can hold it any way you like, and it’ll keep writing. Well, unless you turn it upside down, of course. And besides, it doesn’t leak at all.”

My ears suddenly stood up straight.

“What, what? Repeat!”

“Uh... It doesn't leak. Well, unless the rod or tip is not broken. The tube is too narrow, and the capillary effect prevents the ink from leaking out. You can even put it in your pocket and carry it around.”

I looked up at the human. I had to turn my head to do so, because we had been sitting side by side for a long time, our foreheads almost touching over the notebook.

“Yev'eni! Are you talking about a quill that you can carry around? And not be afraid that it will spill? That you don't have to sharpen or mend?”

“Well, yes,” Yev’eni looked a little surprised.

I broke into a smile.

“The Manehattan World reporters would pay any money for something like that! You can't carry a quill and inkwell with you, and pencils have a bad habit of breaking and wearing out at the most crucial moment. I'm okay, I have to work with sketches anyway and can't do without pencils, but the reporting department will kiss you for it! Forgetting that you're a human being!

“Better with money,” he chuckled.

I looked at the drawings again.

“And you figured out how to do something like that here? In Manehattan?”

Yev'eni sighed.

“It's not that simple. It won't be a elementary assembling from ready-made parts. The main difficulty is that the tip must be very precisely adjusted in size. The ball must rotate freely in the socket, and the ink must flow freely to it, but at the same time - not flow out. Jewelry precision and adjustment of the ink composition are needed.”

“Won't the regular ones do?”

He shook his head.

“Too liquid. You won't get a clear line with them. In general, you'll have to make several batches, refill and test different types of ink.”

I propped my muzzle up with my hoof.

“You know, I could chat with the fillies in the printing department. We have a couple of good chemists there who specialize in ink. Too thin, you say?”

“Well, yes.”

“Maybe we should experiment with thickeners,” I suggested, wondering what I would use if we were talking about paints.

“Clay or marble flour... No, it won't work, it will clog the canals. Maybe an oil base? Or gum arabic?”

The human shrugged, sliding his shirt sleeve over my cutie mark.

“I can't even imagine. I know that the composition should include glycerin, but I'm not sure.”

“And did you come up how make the details?” I asked.

"At least I found a pony willing to try," Yev'eni said. "We're going to meet up Thursday night and discuss it in detail."

I raised my head.

“Can I come with you? Please!”

“Yes, you're welcome!” laughed Yev'eni. He casually ran his hand over the back of my neck, ruffling my hair.

The touch sent a wave of warmth across my neck and shoulders. I gasped, recoiling.

“Ouch!” Yev'eni blushed like a tomato. “Damn it, Stargaze, I'm sorry! It was completely automatic!”

“It... it's nothing serious,” I squeezed out, blushing myself. “I... apologize. I still haven't really woken up. I'll probably go wash up and go back to sleep!

“Y-yes, of course,” Yev’eni muttered. I darted into the bathroom and quickly put my head under the cold water.

Oh Equestria! Is my heat schedule out of whack?

Well, of course, I had nothing for six months since breaking up with Fast Type, and such things happen... It's all a glitch in my schedule! And that vulgar Tabitha with her stupid jokes!

What are you even thinking, you stupid mare? He's not even a pony!

Although lately this hasn’t even caused any sidelong glances…

“Pfft!” I stuck my head under the stream again. And held it there long enough to drive away the stupid thoughts!

The light of electric lamps filled the small cozy cafe. A couple of earth pony waitresses scurried between the tables, there were a decent number of people. On the wall hung several sconces in the form of horse heads, a couple of zebra masks.

“Mister Komarov!” the red earth pony at the nearest table jumped up and bowed. “Glad to see you.”

"Likewise," Yev'eni responded with a bow. "Mr. Arrow, this is Stargaze, my neighbor."

I nudged Yev'eni's thigh lightly. However, the earth pony either didn't notice the imprecise usage of the name, or didn't think it necessary to pay attention.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” he ceremoniously touched my hoof.

"Stargaze has some ideas for my little project," Yev'eni explained. "We decided it would be more convenient to discuss them together."

“Your project,” Bronze Arrow pulled a huge folder of papers from his own mane. “By the way, you still haven’t told me what you’re going to use these devices for.”

Yev'eni gallantly pulled out a chair for me and sat down himself. As if by magic, a waitress appeared next to me. I limited myself to coffee and salad, Bronze and Yev'eni each took a mug of cider.

“Devices,” the human said. “Basically, it’ll be a writing device. Like a fountain pen, only…”

“Writings?” Bronze opened the folder and stared at the plans. “Oh, now I understand. This is a reservoir for ink, and the central ball releases it under pressure? Right?”

“Absolutely.”

"What a wonderfully simple idea," Bronze said thoughtfully. "It's odd that no pony has suggested it before."

"There was no pressing need, I suppose," I suggested. "But I'm sure Yev'eni's idea will be in demand. Enough that ponies would know that such device is possible!"

Bronze studied the drawing carefully, tapping his hoof on the table and narrowing his eye.

“I made a test sample,” he said, taking out a small box from there. “But now I’m beginning to think that it alone won’t do the job. We’ll need to understand what tolerances we can allow when carving the tips and grinding the balls, what the percentage of defects will be… Meadow muffins! We initially planned to use hardened steel, but now that you’ve outlined the task… We need to think about the material. If the loads are comparable to those that fall on metal pens…”

"More," Yev'eni interrupted. "This thing has to be written under pressure, so that the ink flows out."

Bronze shook his head.

“Then even more so. Perhaps lead brass... Or bronze alloys? Maybe we'll even have to order cast parts instead of turning them... We need full cycle of testing.”

"And the ink," I intervened. "We don't know yet what kind of ink to use. We might have to experiment with that, too."

“Not probably, but definitely,” Yev’eni noted.

Bronze chuckled.

“Well, the more difficult the task, the more interesting the solution, eh?” he raised his mug.

“For difficult tasks,” the human responded.

He placed his hands on the table, palms down. He leaned forward.

“And now the most interesting question,” he said. “How much will all this cost?”

The earth pony grinned.

“I'm afraid I can't give you an estimate right away. I need to sit over the catalogs, I need to sketch out a process chart. And in any case, we're talking about a new product. We'll only be able to understand the budget when we have a clear understanding of all the stages and materials.”

“And roughly?”

The pony half-closed his eyes.

“From twenty thousand, I think.”

Yev'eni had excellent control of his face. I knew that this sum exceeded his gold reserves by two orders of magnitude, but I would never have guessed from his calm gaze. He opened the box and took out a thin, pointed steel tube. He looked thoughtfully at the tip, which sparkled in the electric rays by the tiny ball in a steel frame.

“It’s noticeable,” he said. “Mr. Arrow…”

“Just Bronze!” the pony corrected him this time.

“Okay, Bronze. So, can you recommend a credit agency in this city that would agree to deal with a human? And, if possible, not one that collect a debts with hooves?”

I touched his hand.

“Yev'eni, that's not necessary. I can take on the conversations with the moneylenders.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Stargaze, I don't really want to get you into debt.”

“Oh no! I'm a grown mare and I can decide for myself. And I like your idea. I want to take part in it!”

Bronze chuckled.

“Well then. In that case, I am ready to do the manufacturing on my equipment for free. And even, perhaps, to invest in purchasing materials at my own expense within five thousand. But on one condition.”

“Go ahead.”

“We split the profit three ways.”

Yev'eni thought about it.

"Shake!" he raised his clenched fist over the table. Bronze lightly hit it with his hoof. A second later, I joined the brohoof.

"I suppose we need to formalize this somehow," the ргman said. "Register a company, put up some initial capital. How do you do it here in Equestria?"

Bronze shrugged.

“Come to the mayor's office, register a trading company. In our case, we'll all have to come together. Since we're going to trade retail, we'll have to wait for the royal inspector to visit and get permission to sell. Well, that's all. Although I might have missed some details. My workshop is my father's inheritance, so I might not know all the nuances. It's better to consult a solicitor.”

“We’ll decide that, I think,” Yev’eni waved his hand. “By the way, what should we call the enterprise?”

The pony chuckled in confusion.

“Mmm... ‘Komarov, Bronze and Stargaze’?”

“It’s a bit long,” Yev’eni said doubtfully.

“Human quills?” I suggested.

Yev'eni laughed.

“Man is an animal without feathers,” he noted. “Hm-hm-hm… In our world, such devices were called ‘ballpoint pens’…”

"Yev 'eni ballpoint quills"?

Then just "Ballpoint Quills". Sounds short and sweet. Who's for it?

“I'm for it.”

“Sounds good,” Bronze agreed.

Yev'eni looked around at us.

“All great deals began with the phrase, ‘Well, screw it, let’s try,’” he said, smiling. “For the success of a new endeavor?”

“If that’s the case, then bring me some cider too,” I decided.

“One second,” Bronze turned away to call the waitress.

Yev'eni leaned towards my ear.

“Why were you pushing then?” he whispered quietly.

“Oh,” I answered in the same whisper. “When you use a two-part name, don't use ‘Mr.’ or ‘Mrs.’ They only say that when they use the pony's last name. And with double names, either just ‘Mr.’ if you don't know the pony's name, or the full or short name.”

“Oh. Got it.”

“It’s okay if I correct you?”

“Of course, thank you!”

“To tell the truth, even most ponies get confused about it now. These are old customs, even before the Hearth’s Warming. Back then, earth ponies used family names, and unicorns and pegasi used double personal names. Over a thousand years, everything has become mixed up; now you can meet a unicorn with a family name, and an earth pony with a double name. But if you move in business circles, such slips of the tongue can... Well, spoil the impression!”

“Well, let’s not split the skin... ahem, oats from an unsown field,” Yev’eni chuckled.

“Hmm,” Bronze reminded himself.

We raised our heads like schoolchildren, blushing.

“I apologize, Bronze. I was taught the language through magic, and sometimes I get confused with the choice of words. So I asked Stargaze to correct me from time to time.”

“Well, I wouldn't say so. You have a pretty good pronunciation, for a non-pony.”

“Thank you. By the way, I've been wanting to ask for a long time, if it's not too personal...”

“Yes?”

“Many ponies - even you, Stargaze - have marks that match their names. And you said you get them when come of age?”

“Not really,” I shook my head. “The mark appears when a pony realizes what kind talent he has. Usually it’s somewhere between eight and twelve years old. I got mine when I was eleven – I took a sketchbook, climbed onto the windowsill and started drawing a snowy yard.”

“How does that happen? You were named Stargaze Winter, and the mark is the same. Does a name determine talent? Or did your parents somehow know in advance that you would be an artist?”

I shook my head.

“My case is just a lucky coincidence. My parents actually hoped that I would become a magician, that's why they named me that.”

Yev'eni looked at the cutie mark in surprise.

“Names associated with celestial bodies - stars, the Moon, the Sun, and so on - are traditionally associated with magic,” I explained. “But in general it varies. Sometimes ponies change their name when they receive a mark, unicorns and pegasi - more often, earth ponies - less often. Sometimes the name and mark are related from the very beginning, especially when the foal inherits a family talent! And finally, in earth pony families, they often give a name associated with the family, and the family surname.”

“It’s so complicated,” Yev’eni chuckled. “Okay, for success and new beginning?”

“For success.”

“For success. And you still owe me a story about Earth, Yev'eni!”

Metal and paint

He looked up at me thoughtfully.

“Yes, mister,” I nodded, answering the unspoken question. “I am a human being. And I need a consultation.”

The earth pony was looking at me thoughtfully at a massive green baize desk. On the desk was a huge pile of seals, quills, books, ledgers, folders and scrolls, trying to crawl onto the floor. Behind the pony, in the giant oak cabinets on either side of the office, even more papers were visible through the half-open doors.

"Lemon has already informed me that you are not a pony," he said thoughtfully. "What are you wondering about, some complications with Equestria's immigration laws? Your species is subject to a number of special regulations of the Diarchy and the Throne of Friendship, so I..."

I shook my head, tearing the pony away.

“Not exactly, sir. I would like some advice on starting a business.”

The pony whistled.

“Business? It's not often that humans come to me with such a request. To tell the truth, you are the first representative of your species who come to me for a consultation...”

“Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?”

The pony grinned.

“Well, mister, state your question. By the way, what is your name?”

“Evgeniy Komarov.”

“Pleased to meet you. Paper Stamp, senior attorney at Stamp & Stamp solicitor agency." the pony stood up and extended a hoof across the table. "Have a seat."

I sank into a soft chair. I put the memorable folder with which I traveled around the workshops on the first day of my enterprise on the cloth.

“You see, my pony friends and I want to open a production of some items of human use in Manehattan. This is a new business, and we are not familiar enough with Equestrian laws. That is why we decided to consult a professional.”

“Human usage?” Paper whistled. “Sounds interesting. Well, go on.”

In about ten minutes I had described the nature of our enterprise to the solicitor. Motes of dust swirled in the sunlight around the pony's head as he studied with interest the outlines that constituted our business plan for the day. A pile of scrolls and tubes trembled dangerously on a nearby cabinet, as if they were about to roll onto the table and bury us both. Occasionally the pony would make some marks on a small scroll with a pencil as I spoke.

Paper looked up thoughtfully.

“One minute,” he said, without looking, extending his hoof to the right, opening the cabinet door and, without looking, tearing a massive reference book with gilded embossing from the shelf.

He opened it wide, showering me with a cloud of dust.

“Quills,” he muttered thoughtfully, turning the pages. “Quills, quills… Quality assessments, quilts… Aha, here it is!”

He bookmarked the page.

"You did the right thing by coming for a consultation, Mr. Komarov," the pony declared. "I already see one weak point in your plan."

“Which?”

“Quills.”

I expected more.

“In accordance with the decree of H.M. Princess Celestia of the year 857 of the Sun Era, quills, pencils, ink and inkwells, sand and blotting paper, sealing wax and penknives are among the goods for which the trading house Whitefeather & Co. has been granted a privilege of royal banalites. If you call your products “quills”, you will be able to sell them only with the permission of the holder of the privilege and by paying him a commission. At least in the territory of Manehattan, Fillydelphia and Canterlot with the adjacent lands.”

I cleared my throat.

“Paper Stamp, as I said, I am not very good at your laws. What is the "privilege of royal banalites"?”

The pony chuckled.

“You're not the only one. Many ponies don't consider it necessary to understand the intricacies of commercial law.

In ancient Unicornia, the royal banalites was the right of the ruling family to monopolize trade in certain services on their lands. Later, with the unification of the tribes, this was the name given to the permission granted by the Sun Throne to sell certain goods and services on certain lands of Equestria. For example, the Apple family was granted the right to exclusively sell cider and apple jam on lands adjacent to their family estates a hundred years ago.”

I could only shake my head.

“Strange system. What about free trade and all that?”

The pony shrugged.

"It's not just a privilege, but also a number of additional obligations. Banalites holders are usually subject to an additional tax in favor of the crown, plus they are required to support a certain number of jobs, make contributions to city budgets... In general, the system is discordly complex, periodically there are calls in the state council for its revision, and I would have to spend several hours explaining it in detail. For you, it is enough that you will have to pay for the right to trade quills in Manehattan..." he looked at the directory again, "about eight hundred and fifty bits per month, if at the minimum rate.

I tried to keep a professional expression on my face.

“Is this the only option?”

The pony became thoughtful.

“There is a workaround. You can change the name so that it does not fall under the existing restrictions. Of course, there is still a risk that Whitefeather will demand payment from you in court, but such a claim will be quite easy to challenge. Especially if your product is protected by a separate patent.”

To scratch my head.

“We called these things «pens» or «ballpens». An automatic quill…”

“Get rid of the quills,” Paper advised. “And the pencils and leads, too. Find something else.”

“Hmm... Stylus?”

“Just a second,” the lawyer leafed through the directory. “Well, styluses are not included in the list of goods subject to the privilege. I think you can use this one.”

I nodded. I made a note in my own notebook.

“Excellent. What other nuances? In general, could you describe the entire procedure for me?”

“You should choose a tax system and apply to the City Hall for registration of a commercial enterprise. How do you plan to register? As a company with a pass-through tax or with a corporate tax?”

“What's the difference?”

“With a pass-through tax, you pay income tax only on your personal dividends, with a corporate tax - both on profits and on dividends. But with a pass-through tax, your company is additionally charged a twelve percent social tax for each employee. At the same time, with a pass-through tax, you have the right to attract new owners or sell your share only with the consent of the other members, and with a corporate tax - by decision of the managing body.”

I frowned. The pony's explanations were somehow familiar from my previous life. It's a pity that I was still too poorly versed in the intricacies of all sorts of VAT and personal income tax...

“That is, the fewer employees a company has, the more profitable the pass-through tax?”

Paper nodded.

“Yes. That is why small companies usually use the first scheme. Among other things, it requires a significantly smaller volume of reporting.

You can also register as a private trader. The amount of taxes is limited to an annual fee and social payment for hired workers. The downside is that it is much more difficult to attract investors, and if you get into debt, you will be liable with all your property. Although you are registered as an immigrant on bail? Then this is not an option for you, unless you agree with one of the ponies to take responsibility for your business.”

“I think we will use the first scheme. Can I register as a foreigner there?”

“Yes, if you live in Equestria for at least a month. A reasonable decision.”

“And then...”

“You have to come to the city hall with your friends. You will sign a partnership agreement and receive a registration sheet. With it, you can open a bank account and rent space for production and trade. Then...” the pony scribbled something in a notebook. “Are you going to conduct retail trade?”

“It is quite possible.”

“Then immediately upon registration, or as soon as you rent or purchase a place and equip trading areas, submit an application to the mayor's office for an inspection. The Royal Inspector will inspect your enterprise and issue a permit for trade. Next... So, since you are going to trade items from the human world, you need to contact the Committee for the Implementation of Earth Developments. They will review your application and decide whether your activities are permissible in Equestria, after which they will submit it to the princess for approval.”

“What could possibly be unacceptable about it?” I asked in surprise.

“I am not Her Highness,” the attorney spread his hooves. “The new writing instrument, to me, does not look dangerous. But they say that sometimes their decisions seem non-obvious. They say that once the princess imposed a ban on the earthly model of the abacus.”

“Okay,” so, Zhenyok, let’s solve problems in the order they arise, “What else should I know?”

“Patent. You also can register it at the city hall, if you have a technical description and samples on hand - even on the first day after registration. There are two types of patents - full and limited. With a full patent, in addition to a thousand-bit fee, you are required to pay a hundred and twenty-bit tax annually, but the patent is retained for the next fifty years. With a limited patent, the privilege expires after ten years, but you do not pay tax.”

I thought about it.

“Listen. What if, purely theoretically, I filed a patent for a mechanical quills, and the company you were talking about had the privilege to sell the quills?”

The pony smiled slightly.

“It's hard to say without reading the specific wording. But in general, I think you would mutually block each other's right to trade these things. Then, most likely, the matter would be referred to Her Highness for consideration, after which she would, by royal will, annul one of the documents, possibly with compensation.”

I chuckled.

“How complicated everything is for you. Of course, patent law on Earth is not the simplest either...”

“Well. As I said, this system is hundreds of years old. And on the one hand, it is periodically required to be revised, on the other hand, it works, more or less. Where did we stop?”

“Patent.”

“Oh, yes. In principle, from the moment you receive it, you can start trading. Generally speaking, you can start it from the moment you receive permission from the committee and inspection, but with a patent in hand, you will have fewer difficulties with competitors.”

“Great. Is there anything else I should know?”

The solicitor grinned.

"For ten bits I can offer you this brochure," he handed me a bright, colorful booklet with the inscription on the cover "Starting a Business for the First Time: A Young Trader's Handbook!" "And for two thousand a month, Stamp & Stamp will take on the legal and tax support of your company.

“Do you accept cash?”

“Of course. Just pay at the cash desk at the entrance.”

“I'll take it. As for the escort... May I ask for your business card? Perhaps we'll resort to it in the future.”

“Here you go,” Stamp handed me a velvet business card with gold embossing.

“Thanks for the consultation, Paper.”

“Glad to help, Mr. Komarov.”

Alyatara was waiting for me in a café a couple of blocks away from the metro station. On the table, on a small bamboo napkin with a coloring in the form of moons, suns and stars, there was a forgotten ice cream and a cup of coffee, and the unicorn herself was immersed in reading. That same book with a pegasus in a cork helmet, which I had seen her with on my second day in Equestria.

A light rain was falling – I remembered that in the morning I had seen a warning on the entrance doors about the pegasi organizing the evening watering of the city flower beds in the block. I winced, feeling the blows of cold drops, and quickened my pace.

“Knock-knock!” I tapped my finger on the edge of the table.

“Oh!” Alyatara jumped up and slammed the book shut. “I didn't even notice you!”

“How are you doing?” I sat down next to him.

“I left a little early today and stopped by the bank. They promised to review my loan application within two days, but their employee said that my chances look pretty good! Plus I have some savings…”

I grimaced.

“I still have the feeling that I'm driving you into debt.”

“Come on! Evgeniy, we agreed. This is our common cause and common profit! And anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained!”

I sighed.

"I also spoke to Remy Engrave, our typographic chemist!" Aliatara continued enthusiastically. "She was very interested in my story, and she agreed to meet with us today to discuss the refill tests!"

“That's really good news! I was just thinking...”

“Yes?”

“I think before we tell her the details, we should have signed a trade secret agreement or something like that. Damn it, I should have asked the attorney right away how you formalize it. Bronze, okay, he's investing in the materials and equipment himself, and he's an interested party... And even then...”

Alyatara's hoof rested on my palm.

“Evgeniy, don't worry. I explained to Remy that this is a new case, and it's better to keep quiet about it, so that competitors don't find out. She gave her word of honor that she would keep quiet.

I couldn't help but smile.

“The word?”

“The word. Look, I understand why you're worried. But this isn't your world, Evgeniy, believe me. In these things, you can rely on a pony's word!”

I sighed, but didn't contradict the unicorn. I stole coffee from Alyatara and took a sip.

“When did you say your friend should arrive?”

“Yes, almost here... Oh! Remy, hi!”

A blue pony with a purple mane sat down on a nearby stool, her rump adorned with the image of a black drop.

“Hello, Alyatara. You must be Mr. Komarov?”

“That's it. And you're Remy?”

“Yes. Let's get down to business. I listened to the general outline of your idea with our artist. An interesting concept.”

Alyatara raised her hoof.

“Evgeny, Remy! I suggest we order a cup of coffee before we get down to the discussion. The waiters are already giving us sideways glances!”

I suspected that the waiters were looking at us sideways not only and not so much because of the occupied table, but because of me, but I didn’t object.

She gestured to one of the staff, and soon a menu was laid on the table. Alyatara and Remy took coffee and doughnuts, I limited myself to a cup of tea – my finances, after paying for a consultation at Stamp and Stamp, were already bottomed, and there were still a few days left until payday.

The earth pony, after a questioning glance in my direction and my nod, pulled the folder towards herself. She looked thoughtfully at the drawing of the tip made by Bronze - much more perfect than my sketches.

She winced as darkness thickened around her. About ten seconds passed, the firefly lamps on the tables filled with light, but the pony still had to bend over the sheet, peering at the lines and numbers.

“The capillary effect…” she drawled. “Is that the exact diameter?”

“We don’t know yet how the sizes should relate,” I admitted. “We planned to make several tips of different sizes and experiment with the compositions. Until we achieve the desired effect.”

“The desired effect?” Remi asked. “Keep in mind that you will need to wait a few days. You can't say for sure from the first stroke that the paint has gone on properly. Sometimes the first impressions - that is, in your case, the inscriptions - look great, but after the sheets have been lying around for a day or two, they start to fade, or the font starts to blur, and so on.”

I nodded.

“We know, Remy. That's why we want to involve a professional chemist.”

“It would be a good idea for a professional chemist to decide for herself what we want to do and how to achieve it. You say we need quill ink, but of a thicker consistency?”

Alyatara looked at the drawing thoughtfully. She took a sip of coffee, gracefully holding the cup with her hoof. I noticed that the handle was clearly too small, even for the tiny hooves of my companion, and thoughtfully rubbed my forehead.

Come to think of it, I've seen a lot of things that would be more appropriate for creatures with hands than hooves... Door handles. Cups. Brushes. If you hold them with hoofkinesis, the shape is useless. If you hold them with teeth, it's even uncomfortable. It feels like a lot of things around me were meant for someone with fingers...

"If only we knew what degree of thickening would be needed!" Alyatara's voice brought me back to reality. "I was thinking about paint thickeners, but you know..."

"Yeah, stuffing them into the capillary system is a sure way to ruin it," Remy agreed. "What about printing ink?"

This time, Aljatara and I shook our heads at the same time.

“Dries too quickly. Will clog the unit.”

“Well, well, well, that’s so...” Remy thoughtfully drew patterns with the edge of her hoof in a puddle of coffee. “So, a mixture that dries quickly enough to not require blotting and stay on the paper, but not fast enough to dry in the refill and tip. Liquid enough to flow freely to the ball when pressed, but not thick enough to flow out of the tip on its own. At the same time - giving a clear color of the letter and not fading too quickly. Well, I like a challenge.”

“Excellent!” Alyatara exclaimed joyfully. “Well, when shall we begin?”

I raised my hand.

“Remy, that's a sensitive issue.”

The earth pony grinned.

“And you are a businesspony… creature, Mr. Komarov.” She became serious.

“I am a specialist, and I am used to getting a decent payment for my work. Considering that we do not know how long the development will take, I have the right to expect that you will pay me no less than the printing house for the same time. Consider, from five hundred bits per week. Well, or there is another option.”

“A share in the business?” I suggested.

“Exactly. You'll still need someone to brew the ink. A quarter of the income - and I contribute with reagents and my labor. Can we shake on it?”

Aljatara and I exchanged glances.

“I don’t mind,” I said cautiously. “But we have a third companion. We need to know his opinion, too.”

The unicorn just nodded.

“Well then, I await your decision,” Remy finished her coffee and stood up. “See you at work tomorrow, Alyatara? Until next time, mister.”

The cafe door closed behind the pony. We looked at each other.

“I think it’s a reasonable request,” Aliatara said.

I nodded, rocking on the stool. I looked up at the clock. Wow! The hour hand had already crawled past a quarter past nine.

“Let’s go home?” the pony suggested.

“Yeah,” I nodded, and then I remembered something else.

“Listen. I visited the solicitor today and this is what I heard...” I briefly outlined the content of our conversation.

Alyatara's eyes widened.

"Yes, I've heard something about these cases. The Manehattan World once published an article about patent disputes..." she muttered.

“We need a new name,” I scratched my head. I drew a picture of a pen in my notebook with a pencil. I stared at it.

“ "Ballpoint styluses"? Doesn't sound right...”

“Just "Stylus"?” suggested Alyatara. “You know... some associations with antiquity. Pyramids, sphinxes, Somnambula...”

I didn’t even ask, “Sphinxes?”, my head no longer wanted to work in multitasking mode.

“"Mechanical styluses"?”

“Mechanical styluses...” muttered the pony. “We need something that come out the mouseinstantly... A stylus-mechanism... Oh! Stylomech!”

“Stylomech?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” I met Alyatara’s puzzled gaze.

“Well, first of all... you have a crump on your nose.”

“Oh!” the pony blushed charmingly, running her hoof over her muzzle. “And now?”

“Now it's fine. And about the stylomech - well, it sounds like... I don't know. Some kind of giant robot from Japanese porn cartoons?

“Giant who of whose what?” the unicorn asked again, puzzled.

Now I blushed, scolding myself for my uncontrolled tongue.

“Oh. Forget it. Memories of Earth, slipped out of my mouth and so on.”

“Hmm, - they measured me with a glance.” So what don't you like about "stylomech"?

I took a sip of coffee. I twirled the mug on my finger, once again marveling at the strangeness of the new world.

“Although. It's a normal name. No worse than "felt-tip" or "caliper".”

Glass clinked - Alyatara used telekinesis to lower two pot-bellied glass jars containing a dark purple liquid onto the table.

"Are you sure we should spend time on this?" she asked. "We already know what we want to achieve."

The earth pony shook her head.

“You know what you want to achieve, but I still have no idea what consistency and drying speed we need. Let's start with a standard composition, and we'll select the right one step by step.”

It’s stupid to hire a specialist if you don’t trust his skills, I remembered.

Bronze laid out on the table, on a clean linen cloth, about a dozen and a half sparkling steel refills. Nearby lay instruments, syringes, a bottle of cleaning fluid, and a stack of clean white sheets.

Remy cleared her throat.

“Alyatara, are you writing this down?” she asked, filling the tray from one of the jars. “So, the first experiment. Ink - sixth standard calligraphic, dye - nut, thickener - gum arabic, preservative - carbolic acid.”

"The tip is brass, the ball is hardened steel," Bronze continued. "The cavity width is 30 mils, the ball diameter is 20 mils, the channel thickness is approximately 5 mils."

Bronze carefully picked up the refill and clamped it in a vice. He filled the syringe, inserted a hair-thin needle from the back of it, and pressed the plunger. When a drop appeared hanging from the opposite side, he grabbed the glittering ball with tweezers and inserted it into the channel. He took the refill out of the vice to place it in a machine similar to a coffee grinder, tightened the clamps, and pressed the handle.

“Let’s check,” he handed the refill to me. I drew a few lines on the sheet. I sighed sadly.

Even with the naked eye, it was clear that the purple spot was spreading from the tip. The rod left behind a thick strip, like a felt-tip pen.

Alyatara sighed in disappointment.

“We already knew that it wouldn’t work the first time,” I encouraged her.

“Give it here,” Remi snatched the piece of paper from me and examined it carefully from both sides.

She made a few notes in her own notebook, muttering "drying", "leaking", "veininess", or something similar. She set the paper aside, marking it with a pencil with the number "1." I wiped the refill with a soft cloth and put it back with the paper.

“Experiment two. The ink is the same.”

“Tip – brass, ball – hardened steel. Cavity width – 30 mils, ball diameter – 25 mils, channel thickness – approximately 5 mils.”

Bronze repeated his manipulations of threading the refill and crimping the ball. He handed it to me.

This time the ball left a more or less clear line on the paper. Although it still looked more like a trace from a thin felt-tip pen than from a fountain pen.

“That’s something!” Alyatara exclaimed joyfully.

“Wait,” I cooled her ardor. “Let’s see how the ink behaves.”

I was right. After about thirty seconds, the pen began to leave a broken line. Then it stopped writing. I drew a few lines with pressure, but only a pressed line remained on the paper.

“Fail two.”

“Let’s continue,” Remy poured the ink into a new tray, carefully dripped something from the bottle, and stirred it. “Ink – sixth calligraphic with the addition of glycerin, two liquid drachmas per experimental volume.”

The experiments continued, the number of refills and sheets of paper on Remy's table grew. Finally, the last of the refills lay on the table. Remy thoughtfully looked at the fruits of her labor in the form of spreading purple streaks and indented lines.

“Let’s wash the refills and do the experiments again,” she ordered.

"Does it make sense?" I asked wearily. "We already know that we should start with ink, not printing ink."

Remy shook her purple bangs.

“You said yourself that your earthly potion makers keep the exact composition a secret. Let's accumulate more experimental material to increase our chances.”

Without objecting, I began pushing the balls out of the units into the finest diameter cuvettes with a feeler gauge – this was the job that suited my fingers best. Once, I made a fool of myself, almost sending two balls into one cuvette, but came to my senses after Bronze called out. Meanwhile, Alyatara, having pulled on rubber hoofgloves, washed the rods in a mixture of soda and ammonia.

“Keep in mind,” I warned, “after reloading, the strength of the units will decrease. And they will hold ink worse.”

“Yes, that's clear,” noted Bronz. “But should they withstand one cycle? These are experimental samples anyway, if necessary, we'll cast and carve new ones.”

He grabbed the first refill, forcing it into the vice.

“Experiment nineteen,” Remy picked up. “Alyatara, are you ready?”

“Ready!” the unicorn reported.

“Paint – second printing, dye – indigo, soot, grape black, base – linseed oil and rosin.”

“The tip is brass, the ball is hardened steel. The cavity width is 30 mils, the ball diameter is 20 mils, the channel thickness is approximately 5 mils…”

This time the results were much worse. As expected. Of the eighteen tested refills, only three agreed to write, the rest stubbornly clogged, either leaving no traces at all, or ceasing to work after a few dozen centimeters. And writing is an exaggeration. The lines were intermittent, in some places with thick black blots, in some places the paint, on the contrary, stubbornly did not lie on the paper.

However, Remy didn't look dissatisfied. After looking thoughtfully at the sheets of paper, she began to scribble something in her notebook.

"We should start with the ink, really," she muttered. "Increase the proportion of gum arabic, try changing the dyes... Bronze! Can we use these refills, or do you need time to make new ones?"

The earth pony pulled the monocle lens over his eye and squinted, examining the tip of the arrowhead.

“They’ll pass a couple more of these tests,” he noted. “Although… Listen, let’s worry about the new ones. We want to understand how the commercial models will behave, don’t we?”

“I swear by the Sisters, that’s true,” Remy nodded. “A couple of days will be enough for you?”

“It must be,” Bronze said judiciously.

And during this time I will prepare the reagents and cook the first batch with the changed recipe. Well, then, shall we meet the day after tomorrow?

“And I’ll just have time to resolve the issue with the loan,” agreed Alyatara.

“Well then, see you until the day after tomorrow, friends,” I concluded.

Already on the night street, under the silvery moonlight, I realized that it was deep night outside. Three o'clock, no less.

Alyatara clicked her hooves next to me. At home I would probably be wary of walking around my native Mytishchi at such a time of day, but Manehattan, if you didn’t go into the port areas, according to Alyatara and Philip, was a completely safe city. And even in the port you had to try hard to run into trouble, especially something that went beyond a couple of bruises.

“Do you like the city at night?” the pony suddenly asked.

“The city?” I hesitated. I looked around, looked at the carved ridges of the roofs, the moldings above the windows, the dim glow of the lanterns…

“Yes. Very much so. He is not like ours.”

“How is it different?” Alyatara asked curiously.

I thought about the answer.

“Silence, Alyatara.”

“Silence?”

“Yes. Your cities are very quiet. Here, even at night, you can constantly hear the roar of engines, the noise of footsteps, as if... I don't know how to describe it. You feel the noise not even with your ears, but with your bones. Millions of people, hundreds of thousands of cars. Here... it's quiet here. And the stars,” I raised my head. “You can't see them there. The light of the city lamps, it eclipses.”

"Your cities must be beautiful in their own way," the pony said thoughtfully. "I'd like to see them."

I just shook my head. My hand twitched to pat Aljatara on the withers, but I immediately pulled it back. Damn it, I have to fight this reflex. She's a sapient creature, damn it, not a house cat!

“Maybe if we have a free weekend,” I stopped. I laughed. “What am I talking about. If we have a free weekend, we'll spend it experimenting with stylomechs.”

“What did you want to do this weekend?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, I wanted to suggest taking a walk along the embankment. You know, this is the first time I've seen the sea here.”

The unicorn laughed melodically.

“They say the best beaches in this hemisphere are on the Silver Shoals. I always wanted to visit them, but never had enough money.”

“Well, if the idea with the stylomechs works out, a trip to the resort is in order,” I promised half-jokingly.

“Then I'll really take a walk along the embankment together!” laughed Alyatara. “And keep in mind, you've sold yourself short with this exchange!”

Ink and steel

"Sign here and here," the brown earth pony pushed a rosewood tablet with a scroll attached to both sides towards me. I grabbed the quill with my teeth.

Sunlight was streaming in narrow strips from the western windows, dust particles swirling in the rays like golden sparks. The sun was low – the day was drawing to an end, the loan officer was stealthily glancing at her watch on the chain. I had arrived at the bank closer to closing time, having barely snatched an extra half hour from my working hours, and now I felt awkward, forcing the pony to work overtime on the day before a holiday.

“That's it, congratulations on getting your loan”, the pony put her hoof print and put her seal on the scroll. “Do you prefer to receive the funds in cash or deposit them into a bank account?”

“On the account, please. “

“Then wait another ten minutes until the checkbook is processed,” the pony sighed furtively.

Finally, all the paperwork was completed, and I became the happy owner of a stack of notes in a satin cover with gold embossing in the form of a gilded horseshoe. We both breathed a sigh of relief.

“The banking office of Goldenhoof and Sons is pleased to welcome you among ours borrowers,” the pony blurted out in a frankly rapid-fire voice. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No, no, I don’t need,” I rose from my chair. Relief flashed in the bank employee's eyes.

I came out onto the threshold of an old building, covered with decorative cobwebs. I crossed the street and settled down on a bench in the park. I started breaking off pieces of a bun and throwing them to the sparrows.

Yev'eni didn't show up. The bun was gone, I studied the newspaper I'd picked up from the nearby kiosk from top to bottom. Including the Equestrian news column, the international section, and an excerpt from a romance novel that was being published in installments.

"- Ethereal Ray!" the warrior said with deep sadness, leaning his front legs on the parapet. The sea was reflected in his eyes like steel. - I cannot be with you! You are a unicorn sorceress. I am a soldier of Pegasopolis. Our duty to our peoples will not allow us...

I placed my hoof on his lips, which I so wanted to kiss.

"I don't care what Princess Platina or your commander wants! My heart tells me something completely different. I know that you are my destiny, and no matter what trials await us in the future..."

“Yaaaaaawn!”

I almost dislocated my jaw. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth with my hoof. I looked around to see if anyone had seen my little embarrassment.

Fortunately, the park was empty. The only witnesses to the yawn were a flock of sparrows. They were just hastily pecking at a bun.

The sun slid down and dove behind the city rooftops. The moon rose to meet it. Lanterns lit up in the treetops – with scary faces painted on them. The holiday was only tomorrow, but many of Manehattan's ponies had already begun decorating their houses and parks.

“Hello!”

I turned around. Yev'eni was standing at the entrance to the park.

“Well, finally!” I trotted towards him.

“How are things with the bank?”

“It's all right, I got a loan. The receipts for the last Hearth Day and the editor's salary were enough for them. So now we have enough to pay the first months' rent.”

“Rent, yes.” Yev'eni sighed. “We were messing around with reagents again today.”

“And how?” I asked hopefully.

“Not really good. The previous samples, the ones with aniline added, started to streak on the second day. Remy said she'd experiment with alcohol-based solvents or something to stop the fading.”

“Well, at least we’re on the right track,” I encouraged the human.

“I hope so,” he sighed. “They’re already looking at me askance at the theater, like, I often ask for time off in the evenings. How are things with you at work?”

I winced.

“You won't believe it, the same crap. It's good that I manage to get all my work done before I leave, but still.”

"Yes," Yev'eni's face hardened. "We need results, and fast."

“Well then, let's go ahead!” I shook my mane.

The human grinned.

“And damn the torpedoes. Let's go see the premises?”

The store was on the corner of Seventh Street, north of Hooflin, on the first floor of a three-story apartment building. The premises were not particularly attractive - the windows were covered with canvas, the door was peeling. It looked like it had once been a cafe, judging by the faded sign across the street.

“Hmm,” Yev'eni looked thoughtfully at the entrance. “Not much traffic. No wonder the previous tenants moved out.”

“There’s an Art Museum just a block away,” I protested. “And behind it is a city park. It’s not the most remote area.”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Okay, we’re not opening a catering,” he said. “The main thing for us is advertising, not a sign.”

We walked up onto the low porch. I grabbed the hammer in the shape of a draconequus head with my teeth and knocked.

The earth pony, round as a barrel, looked out to meet us and broke into a smile.

“Are you here about the ad, mare?... Oh.”

"We're here about the ad. Are you Neighel Brick?" Yev'eni politely tipped his hat. The earth pony swallowed.

“I... Uh...”

“Well, can we look at the store?” I intervened. “It's already ten o'clock, we'd like to get it done while the metro is open!”

The pony shook his head.

“Yes. Yes. I'm sorry, I'm a little confused.”

He ducked back behind the door. He reappeared immediately, jingling a bunch of keys and a firefly lamp in his teeth.

We introduced ourselves. We approached the next door, between the wide display windows. The lock clanked.

“Here you go,” Neighel, who had calmed down a little, put the lamp and keys on the windowsill. “This is a great place to set up a business. You can put a counter here, and there will still be plenty of room for cabinets with goods…”

"And the storage room?" Yev'eni interrupted him. He was thoughtfully examining the wide windowsills, calculating something.

"Oh, it's over there," the pony nodded toward the back door. We walked down a short corridor, Yev'eni thoughtfully looking around the large empty room with its empty shelves.

“Staff amenities?”

“This side,” Neighel opened the second door, pointing to a small couch, a table, and a cabinet.

There was a squeak. Something dark jumped off the couch, darted across the floor. I gasped and jumped back. Something with a tail jumped onto the table, nimbly climbed onto the cupboard and disappeared.

“What's this?” Yev'eni loomed over the landlord. “A rats?”

"They're not rats!" he objected indignantly. "They're a family of squirrels that moved in from Central Park. Don't worry, they're well trained and obedient. They can get goods from the top shelves, they can write out receipts for customers.”

Yev'eni swallowed. His hand lightly touched my shoulder, the gesture we had agreed upon half an hour ago.

“Are they included in the health certificate?” I asked, remembering the brochure the human had brought yesterday.

“Of course. Do you want to see?”

“A little later,” Yev'eni pulled himself together. “And what about the lighting? We plan to work in the dark, and we may need to connect equipment.”

“Well, I can offer you some great firefly lamps for just...”

"That won't do," the human interrupted. "Electric or magical. Your firefly lamps are too dim, and we'll be doing delicate work."

The pony rubbed the back of his head with his hoof.

“Well, the building is wired to the Manehattan Dynamics grid. For five hundred bits, we can run the wiring here. Or for four hundred, I can sell you a set of light crystals, but you'll have to do the enchanting yourself.”

“Charged?” I asked.

“Well, they haven’t activated since the last charge…” Neil hesitated.

“Okay, we’ll think about it,” Yev’eni said. “What about sanitary facilities?”

“The sink and toilet are further on,” the landlord took a few steps, opened the next door and showed the toilet room. “There is hot and cold water,” he turned the valves, the faucet snorted.

“Is this the exit to the courtyard?” Yev'eni pointed to the last door at the end of the corridor.

“Yes. There is an entrance for carts so as not to disturb passers-by, but only for ground.”

The emboldened squirrel jumped off the closet and stuck its nose out into the hallway. It stared at us with its black eyes. I couldn't resist scratching its back with my hoof.

Yev'eni returned to the entrance to the warehouse. He looked thoughtfully around the empty room.

"We'll need to fence off a section and set up a small workshop," he noted. "Is that a problem?"

Neil thought about it.

“What kind of workshop, sir?”

“Turning works, metalworking. Working with reagents.”

The pony hesitated.

“You know, this is a residential building after all. We prohibit noisy work in the evenings.”

“Okay, we'll see,” Yev'eni said. “The noise is solvable. The lathe is still okay, and we can leave the grinder at Bronze's for now. It's a pity, of course - I wanted to move all production to one place...”

"Mister, I don't know what you're planning to manufacture, but you can't set up a factory in a residential area, either here or anywhere else," Neighel said. "If you want to set up production, rent a workshop, but I'm renting out the space for a store."

“Maybe one day we’ll do that, if business takes off,” Yev’eni replied thoughtfully.

He turned, heading towards the sales floor.

“Can we look at the documents for the premises, Mr. Brick?”

“Oh, sure, just a minute,” the pony disappeared through the door into the street.

We exchanged glances.

“What do you think?” I asked.

The man shook his head. He looked at the squirrel, who was now jumping around my hooves completely fearlessly.

"Squirrels who write a check?" He shook his head. "Stargaze, just when I'm starting to get used to your world, it finds a new way to blow my brains out."

“Blow your brains out?” I asked again, puzzled.

“A figurative expression, don't pay attention. To surprise strongly, I meant.”

At that moment, Neighel returned with a folder in his teeth.

“It’s all here,” he said, placing the folder on the windowsill. “The lease agreement, the health certificate, the permit from the mayor’s office.”

Yev'eni and I leaned over the papers, our heads bumping.

To my eyes, the papers looked okay. The human flipped through a few pages and apparently found nothing questionable either.

“Well, Neighel. How much do you want a month for this place?”

“A mere trifle. Twenty thousand.”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Twenty thousand? For a place that's clearly impassable? Mister, it's a whole block to the nearest busy intersection. My price is thirteen.”

Neighel rolled his eyes.

“But here you won't suffer from city noise! Eighteen.”

“If I suffered from city noise, I would rent a country cottage,” Yev’eni snapped. “Fifteen.”

“This is a residential area! Your clients will be residents of all the surrounding houses! Seventeen and a half!”

"I'm targeting the general public, not the neighbors," the human retorted. "Fifteen five hundred."

“Sixteen - and I'll install wiring in your workshop for free!”

“Add the electricity bill and it's a shake of the hand. I mean, a shake of the hooves.”

Neighel nodded.

“When do you plan to deliver the goods?”

“Give us a few days. We need to consult with our partners and resolve the issue with the workshop,” I was about to blurt out that we actually don't have any goods yet, but Yev'eni beat me to it.

The lights had already gone out in most of the windows, but the window in Bronze's workshop was still glowing.

“We’ll have to take a taxi home,” I sighed, mentally counting the bits in my wallet.

“Well, at least the store is not far from home,” Yev’eni answered. “If we decide to rent there, we can save from travel.”

“A couple of districts - is that close?” I snorted. “Well, that will be a reason to go running!”

The door was opened by Remy, with purple spots on her face. The color of her mane.

“Stargaze, hello! Yev'eni, nice to see you.”

“How are things going?”

"Not much progress in the last three hours," replied Bronze, peering through his monocle at something tiny and shiny. "A couple of the writings seemed acceptable, but we'll have to wait. The previous ones seemed successful in the first few hours, too."

I sighed.

“How long have we been doing this?”

“For the third week,” said the human.

“Chin up!” said Bronze. “We're starting a completely new business. Certainly, there will be difficulties. So what? But the ponies will remember us as inventors who gave Equestria a new way to record their thoughts!”

“I didn't mean to be sad! I just ran around a bit. Oh well, at least tomorrow is a holiday. At least I won't have to run to the editorial office in the morning.”

“A holiday?” Yev'eni asked again. “What kind of holiday do you have?”

"Haven’t you heard anything about Nightmare Night?" Bronze stared at him.

“That’s quite a name for a holiday,” Yev’eni chuckled. “Wait a minute though… Does all this have anything to do with all those scary masks and lanterns in every shop window?”

Remy cleared her throat.

“Everypony and everyhumans! I understand everything, but I would like to return home not quite after midnight. Let's work on the planned series, and when the writings are ready, we'll discuss Nightmare Night, and preparations for the holiday, and anything else!”

She pulled on her hoofgloves and jingled her dishes. Carefully mixed a few spoonfuls of bright blue and green powders. She uncorked the bottle, and a sweet floral scent filled the workshop.

“It smells so nice!” I leaned forward with interest, examining the test tube.

"Get back!" Remy hissed at me. "Unless you want the fur on your face to fall out where that thing drips!"

She carefully poured part of the bottle into the test tube, closed the rest with a stopper, carefully wiping the neck with blotting paper. She added a few drops of oily liquid from another bottle. Stirred the resulting dark blue solution.

“Let’s try,” she said. “Alyatara, write.”

“Remy, don't go too fast!” I laughed. I climbed onto the stool and groped for a pencil and paper. “That's it, let's go.”

“Tip – lead brass, ball – hardened steel. Cavity width – 25 mils, ball diameter – 20 mils, channel thickness – approximately 5 mils.”

“Ink – the eighth experimental composition, pigment – crystal violet and Alemane blue in equal proportions, solvent – rose ether, lubricant – oleic acid,” Remi picked up. I scribbled on the paper, hoping that I wouldn’t misrepresent the name of any of the alchemicals.

Unfortunately, this time too, we were in for a failure. The refill left a thin but uneven line on the paper. When Yev'eni lifted the sheet from the table, it became clear that a purple spot had spread across the boards beneath it.

“Hm, hm, I swear by Celestia,” Remy studied the result thoughtfully. “And if... and if... yes, a little emulsifier...”

She repeated her mysterious manipulations, this time dropping some amber-colored compound into the test tube.

“Let’s try,” she ordered.

“We won’t change the refills?” Bronze asked curiously.

“Why? There are no problems with the ink supply this time, are there?”

The red earth pony nodded.

“It seems we have sorted out the design. However, this is not certain. The viscosity will change - and the gaps between the parts will have to be selected again.”

Yev'eni chuckled darkly.

“I was sure, when I got involved in this story, that it was a matter of a couple of evenings.”

Remy just snorted.

"And now we're all too screwed to back out," the human continued. "You've invested your labor and money. I've frame Stargaze for credit..."

I stood up from my seat resolutely.

“Now stop it!” I poked Yev'eni in the chest with my hoof. “You didn't frame me for anything! I decided to participate myself! And we're not doing this just for the money, by the way! If we succeed - when we succeed - this will be another reason for every pony in Equestria to understand that your kin are not monsters! This is a worthy goal! And it's worth working for a week or two or spending money for! Come on, everybeings, let's stop complaining!”

Yev'eni looked at me with admiring eyes.

Remy and Bronze tapped the floor mockingly.

The human shook his head.

"Discord buck me, as they say here," he drawled. "How lucky I am having ended up in Equestria to meet the most wonderful pony in your country."

"Wow," Remy said cheerfully. "How romantic."

We turned to her at the same time.

“What?”

“That's not what I...”

Bronze burst out laughing.

"Fillies and gentlecolts," he said, after laughing. "I'd like to remind you that the Princess of the Night has probably been wondering for a long time why we're not in her realm yet. So let's finish with the experiments first, and then anyone who wants to can discuss romance, money, and worthy goals. Alyatara, are you writing?"

With my fur scarlet with embarrassment, burning Remy with my gaze, I returned to the protocol. Bronze secured the refill, took the syringe, filled it from the test tube.

"By the way, about the chemicals," Yev'eni asked. "Can they be stored at the point of sale? I want to have a workshop and a store in one place, at least at first."

The earth pony shrugged.

“This stuff is used in the perfume and food industries as a disinfectant. I don't see any problems. The main thing is to store it where no one would be stupid enough to drink it or spill it on themselves, have running water for rinsing, and work with gloves.”

Something just came to my mind.

“Bronze, don't you need those old refills? The ones we rejected as too wide and left in the box?”

The earth pony shook his head.

“Not really. What are you going to do with them?”

“Of course, you won't be able to write with them. But if you take regular ink or mascara, this thing will make an excellent shader! I've even already figured out where I can use it...”

The human scratched his head.

“Hm. That's an option. You won't make much money on it, but selling it as a drawing tool...”

“Let’s deal with the current task first,” Remy interrupted us. “Bronze, what’s there?”

And again, failure. The ink seeped through the paper less, and on the board under the sheet there remained not a blue stripe, but a chain of spots. But it still seeped through.

“Well, well, well,” Remy returned to her seat. “Let’s try this…” She pulled out another bottle, with a handful of white powder.

Distracted by thoughts about how and where I could use the defective refills (a blurry strip of purple or blue would be great for conveying shadows lying on the snow!), I didn’t immediately notice that Remy was humming something under her breath, mixing reagents in test tubes.

And it took me a moment to realize that from somewhere far away, as if from nowhere and from all directions at once, quiet music was sounding.

Only when the pony's purring turned into a quiet song:

Courage is a couple of handfuls, just a pinch

And the determination that leads us, dissolution, processing

I will mix them in a retort, gaining inspiration

And I will create a drop of ink, sharing what I know,

With what I know!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

Bronze lifted his head, looking at the vial that Remy handed him. The music grew, expanded. He filled the syringe, inserted the refill – singing along with it:

Generosity is like bronze under the incisors

And determination, like brass, rings in time under the hammers

I forged a chain out of them, fastening it with hard work.

And I will create the tip, not forgetting the craftsmanship,

Not forgetting!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

Yev'eni's eyes widened in bewilderment. He wanted to ask something, to intervene, to cry out – but in his fingers he already had the refills taken from Bronze's hooves, and the music picked him up, and he sang:

Hopelessness - I'm alone in a foreign land

But I will have to find determination in my heart.

I went a little further than death, finding a new home here

And I will create a ballpen, gathering friends around me,

Gathering friends!

Time after time I will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

It was as if my legs had moved on their own, and now I was no longer walking, but gliding toward him. The sheet of paper rustled as it unfurled. I looked at the filigree, even lines, without a single blot or leak, and the music became everything, and my voice became in time with the music:

Friendship is a gift to us, a precious light of the heart

And the determination to become our friend is a gift that was sung from the heart

Let every pony know that human is not only a foe

A sign of true friendship will be drawn with a ballpen!

A sign of friendship!

And the four voices merged into one:

Time after time we will try to create again

A sign that will become a message of friendship again!

The music stopped. I sat down on the stool, feeling my legs buckle. Silently, I handed the sheet to the others.

Yev'eni shook his head. Nervously smoothed his hair. Opened his mouth, as if intending to ask something...

I rose to my feet, grabbing the workbench for support. I lowered my hoof onto his lips.

“Shhh. We're not discussing this.”

Bronze nodded silently.

Yev'eni again seemed to want to ask "Why?"

“Because we never discuss it. That's all.”

Remy cleared her throat.

“To be sure, of course, you need to wait for the check time.”

I just smiled.

“Sure. We'll wait. But you know what?” I looked at Yev'eni, Bronze and Remy. “I think we did it.”

Author's Note

This is tryings of Suno to sing that:

https://suno.com/song/e8bf9261-a3e3-4026-bac0-efeb2926e7f5

Who is outside the door?

I stared at the blue-green lacquered wand.

“Oh.”

On the back of the stylomeсh a design was applied with silver paint. Several stylized snowflakes, a star and an eye.

“This... is this my cutie mark?”

“Yeah,” Yev’eni nodded with a smug look.

In fact, the drawing was done rather sloppily, the lines were uneven, the paint didn't go on very well, and there were specks of dust and unevenness visible under the varnish. But I wasn't going to say that!

“Great! Thank you very much.”

“Nothing great,” the human shook his head. “I can see that the quality, ahem, is lame in both legs. I haven't done this for two years, my hands are out of the habit. That's just proofof concept, as they say.”

I pulled the brass cap off the stylomech with telekinesis. I drew a few lines and put a signature.

The ball glided across the paper no worse than a goose quill. Well, I had to press a little harder to get a clear line, but it wasn't essential. I twisted the stylomech back and forth, turned it over, shook it. Then I pressed it to the sheet and waited. The device wrote as if nothing had happened and didn't even go to leave a blot. I rubbed the line with my hoof - and couldn't smear the ink.

“It worked! We did it!” I hung on Yev'eni's neck first, then on Remy's. Bronze, laughing, hit the human's fist with his hoof.

“Yes!” Yev'eni looked pleased, like a parasprite in front of a big mountain of apples. And we all broke into smiles.

“I thought,” he said, “that for stylomechs with the owner’s color and cutie mark, you can charge extra. Make two lines – one simple, sand and varnish, and the second – paint, apply a mark and, maybe, even a name.”

Bronze clicked his tongue.

“Good idea.”

“That's for starters,” Yev'eni continued enthusiastically. “And then add some collectibles, rosewood, ebony, what else can you get here?” He grinned. “Maybe even gift one to your ruler.

“Well, for now it’s just a cooking of apples before the growing of tree,” Remi cooled his ardor. “They won’t pay much for such quality.”

He winced.

“Of course. I quickly sanded and varnished it with a brush. We'll make the sales samples as required, with polish and dipping.”

Bronze scratched his head. The earth pony was thoughtfully watching the tests of the stylomech, sitting on a stool and glancing at some of his notes with one eye.

"And that gives me an idea," he said. "How much are we going to charge for these things? If they cost much more than the quills, the idea won't work."

Yev'eni nodded vigorously.

“We need a business plan. Pricing and other bullgift. How much will it cost us to produce one stylomech?”

“Hm-hm-hm,” Bronze bent over the notes.

“I tried to calculate,” he said thoughtfully. “The main expense item is turning the units. The tolerances are very small, Celestia knows, the percentage of defects will be huge. Plus materials, plus the cost of rolling the balls... Plus the cost of wages for the workers... Although I'll give you my nephew, the guy is good with his hooves.”

“It doesn't matter. We're not going to pay him half price just because he's your relative. Besides, we need to base the salary on the market if we plan to expand the business in the future.”

Bronze nodded.

“In general. If this were my entire part, with the entire assembly, I would estimate the cost of the refill and tip as eighteen bits.”

Yev'eni turned to see Remy leaning on the workbench.

“Reagents and the work involved in their production?”

Remi thought about it.

“I didn’t count in such detail... Well, let’s take two bits for the chemicals and another bit for the work of the craftsman...”

Bronze shook his head.

“Then let's take the monthly expenses. To calculate the salary in full and compare it with the loan payment.”

I leaned forward.

“Why should we even count salaries? Are we going to pay ourselves?”

Yev'eni chuckled, but then immediately became serious.

“No, Stargaze, Bronze speaks the truth. We need to include all expenses in the price, without getting tied to a man... well, to a pony. Well, let's say, so that if we open a new workshop, we don't have to recalculate the price anew. Then, if anything, we'll simply subtract our own work from the costs of the product and take it into account when dividing the profits.

"Then," Bronze returned our attention, "let's take the cost price based solely on materials and depreciation. If we calculate it that way, it's about ten gold bits per refill."

“Plus two bits for reagents, plus two for wood, varnish and paint,” Yev'eni picked up. “Total... total, relatively, fourteen bits each. Well, let's add up to sixteen for the machine's work. And other consumables. This is the cost price for material costs,” with a satisfied look, he made a mark in the notebook with a freshly made stylomech.

"Now for the salary," said Bronze. "We need a worker to roll the tubes and turn the units, to grind, roll and harden the balls. Although... I'll probably take on the balls myself, the line has been idle lately anyway, so we'll make do with one pony."

“I still have a hard time imagining how we’re going to soundproof the grinding machine,” Yev’eni nodded.

“So one pony worker plus one chemist for making ink.”

“Well, now a full-fledged chemist is not really needed; even a worker can handle a ready-made recipe,” Remy corrected him.

“Okay. And one pony for filling, assembly and crimping, one for turning, assembly and varnishing the body. Another pony for painting, if we really want to implement this idea with personalized stylomechs.”

“Well, that's too much,” Yev'eni shook his head. “We don't have a conveyor method yet - the same pony can handle painting and finish assembling.”

“Well, let it be so. In a month we will make... If we understate it to be on the safe side, about a thousand. That's sixteen thousand.”

“And four workers... That's another six thousand bits, with no-frills.”

“Plus rent, that’s another sixteen thousand.”

“Plus payment to the seller, another thousand.”

We bent over already scribbled-on by Yev'eni's stylomech notebook.

“Have we forgotten anything?”

“There are also taxes,” Bronze noted. “But here we need to understand what the turnover of the entire enterprise will be.”

Yev'eni drew the line.

“So the total expense is thirty-nine thousand plus one thousand two hundred for the loan payment. Oh, and another thousand for the patent, although that's a one-time expense. Well, let's round it up to account for unforeseen expenses. Forty-two.”

We exchanged glances.

"Forty-two bits apiece, pure cost," Yev'eni muttered. "That's just an expense. How much do we want to make a month on this?"

The fur on Bronze's forehead bristled.

“I earn enough from my workshop, and I’m interested in the work itself,” he said. “But to work for the sake of the ideals of Friendship…”

Remy shrugged.

“I would like to have at least three a month. Otherwise, I don’t see any reason to leave the editor office. But I’m ready to wait a year until things take off, and get by with two – two and a half. But we sort of included some money in the price calculation, taking that into account, I’m ready to get by with a thousand.”

“I'm about the same! Well, one and a half thousand is enough for me without taking into account other expenses, I'll cover the rest from fees!”

The human looked around at us.

“Okay, let's start with one and a half thousand per brother,” he suggested. “While we're getting the case going, and we're working ourselves. Plus six thousand in total. Bronze, how much tax will we have to pay for this case?”

The earth pony laughed.

“Good question, Yev'eni! When I'll see my accountant, I ask her to calculate. If by eye,” his lips moved, he was silent.

“About four and a half thousand, taking into account sales tax, income tax, and nine hundred social tax. Well, about six thousand to be on the safe side.”

Yev'eni also thought about it.

“Sales tax – is that the one on the price of the pen?”

“Well, yes. But don't rack your brains, the royal tax farmers will recalculate in their own way anyway. Let's include the approximate size in the price and calm down.”

“And this gives us... this gives us...”

“Fifty-six bits for a stylomech,” Remy was the first to count this time.

We looked at each other again.

"What do you say, Stargaze?" the human asked cautiously. "Will ponies pay that price?"

I thought about it. I looked around Bronze's workshop, the tools lying on the workbench, the wooden blocks neatly stacked in a corner, the locked cabinet with chemicals. I stared at the flickering fireflies in the lamp, as if searching for an answer.

“Well...” I finally squeezed out. “If to think about it... The best Pegasus quill costs that much or a little less. But it's the very best, the kind that court calligraphers and secretaries write with.

“This thing may be more convenient, but you still need to get used to it,” Remy agreed. “And a regular quill or pencil is much cheaper!”

“On the other hand! How long will the stylomech write before the ink runs out?”

Yev'eni became very thoughtful.

“Uh... A quarter of a mile? If in a day, then that's... Well, somewhere around three or four weeks? Depends on how much you write to them, obviously.”

“If you take ten pages a day, about two weeks, perhaps,” Remy clarified.

“Well, you have to change the Pegasus pen once a day if you don't write very much! And how much does a spare refill for the stylomech cost?”

Bronze and Yev'eni exchanged glances.

“I see what you're getting at. Twelve bits at cost price, plus workers' wages... Well, somewhere around seventeen or eighteen bits, roughly, twenty considering profits.”

“But we can fill them with ink and give them back to customers, then they will be even cheaper!”

"If we take the cost of the reagents, assuming that we've recouped the rent and other things from the handles, then it's five bits apiece," Yev'eni muttered wearily. "Stargaze, keep in mind that the refill won't survive more than three or four such recharges."

“The worst goose feather is twenty cents apiece!” I objected. “In six months to a year, the stylomech, taking into account the money for ink, will pay for itself with a surplus! And if we are talking about those customers who need good quills - they will pay for themselves in a couple of months!”

Yev'eni looked at me very strangely. He stood up, went to the door frame and pressed his forehead against it.

He made some strange sound - either a mooing or a coughing.

“Yev'eni? Are you okay?” I asked worriedly.

“Well, how can I tell you?” he muttered in a choked voice. “Remember when you showed me how the princess raises the sun, the first time?”

“Eh???” I honestly tried to figure out what this had to do with it.

“I have a similar feeling now. I'm definitely in an alien world. And not because you have horns and hooves.

Because you're telling me now that a ballpoint pen is a product whose purchase will pay for itself in six months. On my Earth, it's easier to buy a new one than to remember where the old one went.”

He peeled himself off the doorframe. Only now did I realize that the human was holding back hysterical laughter.

“Hey, hey,” I stood up on my hind legs and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, we understand.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Okay, let’s get down to business.”

He glanced at the pony. Bronze was scowling at the notebook. Remy looked slightly confused. I still didn't want to admit that our idea had flaws. Especially when the finished stylomech was lying on the table in front of us!

"So?" Yev'eni asked, leaving the doorframe and sitting down on the edge of the workbench. "Any ideas on how to optimize costs?"

I jumped up.

“Listen!”

“Stargaze?”

“What if we use magic? There are spells that allow to transform one object into another! Hire a unicorn who knows them, even if not to create the entire stylomech, but only the most complex parts?! It would probably be faster than doing everything with a hoof? After all, here you need to transform metal into metal, without any transformations of weight or structure...”

Bronze sighed very heavily.

“Stargaze. Do you have any idea how much a transfiguration magician’s work costs?”

“Well…”

“The average - and that's right, the average - transfigurator gets paid in a month what I don't earn in six months with my workshop. That's average. Because it's impossible to hire a good one. You can count them all over Equestria on the hooves of a couple of ponies, and their contracts are usually bought out by the largest cartels and factories while they're still in their senior years at SGU.”

He took a breath.

“Of course, we can look for it. But it won't lower the price, it will raise it. About five times.”

I sadly lowered my ears. Feeling awkward - an earth pony was explaining such nuances to me, a unicorn!

"Any other ideas?" Yev'eni asked, looking around at our group again. I wanted to think of something, but nothing else came to mind. Bronze and Remy looked at each other with thoughtful expressions on their faces.

“Speak up, ponies!” I encouraged the people instead. “It's called "brainstorming" - when ideas don't come to mind, you have to start with the craziest ones! Don't be shy!”

Remy snorted.

“The craziest, you say? Well, let's go to Canterlot and put up an advertising banner in front of the princess's palace. Then our product will definitely be noticed and pony will start buying it.”

Bronze gave a strangled grunt.

“An advertising stand on Canterlot Avenue, and in front of the palace? Well, in a hundred years we'll even recoup the cost...”

“Shh! Yev'eni, maybe something from human inventions?”

He shook his head.

“Yes, I already remembered everything I knew. Well, maybe we can fight back with the scale effect, once we reach large volumes, and before that, we can cut expenses on our own dividends. But that, you understand. One big "if".”

“Then maybe...” I froze.

I turned to Remy.

“Listen. It's not Canterlot, of course, and it's not the princess's palace, but I was still going to offer the stylomechs to our stuff. I think they'll give us a discount on advertising, especially if we lower the price for them?”

“Advertising makes the product more expensive,” Yev’eni muttered. “Although you’re right, we can’t do without it. And we’re barely breaking the margin even as it is. Okay, at first, while we’re launching, we’ll have to spend money, and then, you see, we’ll recoup the cost thanks to our fame…”

He jumped off the workbench.

“Well, what? Any other thoughts?”

But this time, it seems, the supply of crazy thoughts has come to an end. Although...

“I can also make sketches in graphics, and we will put them up in the store! I am sure the ponies will be interested, especially if I write that they are made with a new tool!”

Bronze raised his hoof.

“And you will explain to the tax collectors why paintings are sold in the stationery shop. Although you can declare an additional type of goods, the duties there are small..”.

I smiled.

“I've dreamed so much about having my own art shop! If the ponies come to us, I won't have to give a percentage to the art gallery!”

The human grinned.

“I don't rule out that your paintings will have more success than my stylomechs. We'll have to give up everything and retrain as a gallery ourselves.”

I nudged him lightly with my shoulder.

“You will praise me too much!”

“There's a reason!” Yev'eni playfully returned the push.

Bronze tapped his hoof on the workbench.

“Okay, allponies and allpeople. In principle, the plan is clear, I suggest we go home. And in the morning, we'll meet at the city hall with the documents and the whole company. Is that okay?”

“Okay,” Yev’eni agreed.

A line of ponies stretched from the doors of the ancient two-story building. Not too long – halfway to the entrance to the park – but we were unlikely to get free quickly! Far above the rooftops, the Crystaller Building rose, sparkling. The gilding on the statue was ablaze.

The central dome was crowned with a statue of a rearing earth pony. A flag fluttered over two pointed turrets to the left and right. A new one, with a stylized purple alicorn with outspread wings against the background of the luminaries. The last time I passed by the town hall, the old diarchic banners were still raised. However, that was... that was... almost a year and a half ago! Celestia, how time flies!

Oh, what's so surprising? In the old days of the return of Luna, I was more concerned with school grades and admission to the art academy. But I remembered some of this story. When the Diarchy was declared, only to turn into the Triarchy a few years later, which in turn gave way to the Throne of Friendship, someone in the heraldic commission came up with the idea that the number of stars on the flag had not changed since the Nightmare Moon’s banishing. And Equestria, meanwhile, was growing!

When redrawing the flag, a dispute arose about which towns and villages were worthy of being placed on the canvas, and which were not. And in such a way as not to offend anyone, but not to turn the banner into a continuous illegible mess! Once, the princess's approval slipped through two projects at once, so the country lived under several flags for six months.

In general, with all this fuss, one should be surprised not that the flag was changed. But that the mayor's office found time to bring them to a common denominator!

We took our place at the back of the line, in front of the marble portico of the entrance and the statues of Smart Cookie and Meadowbrook in the niches. The ponies ahead waited stolidly, some eating a sandwich, some leafing through a newspaper. Bronze and Yev'eni began leafing through their folder of business documents once again, to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything when they left.

I yawned furtively. The thought flashed through my mind to go to a bench in the park. But as luck would have it, the line moved slowly enough to tire me out with the wait – and quickly enough to make it impossible to return.

Remi was bored too. She moved closer to me.

“Do you think Darling Print will bite us when we announce our quitting?”

I shrugged.

“I doubt it! He certainly has a tough character, but he only gives dressing down when it's necessary. And what do you have to worry about? You're not under his command, after all.”

“That’s true, but I’d like to keep a backup plan in case the idea doesn’t work out.”

"Cheer up!" I advised the earth pony. "Who starts a business with thoughts of defeat?"

“Careful ponies,” Remy muttered.

“Don't worry! A good chemist will find work in the city, especially now. And in general, more faith in our luck!”

“I see you’re even more enthusiastic about the project than Yev’eni,” Bronze chuckled.

He smiled.

“Well, somepony has to motivate us.”

The line moved slowly. Finally, we passed the oak doors and found ourselves in the vestibule, in a narrow corridor of forged bars. With a small window in the grid. At the exit from the corridor, two guards in armor were bored, another one, already without armor, was on duty at a table behind the bars.

“Show me your ID and stick your foot in here, filly,” he ordered in a duty tone.

I gave him a measuring look.

“If you let the ponies through without your stupidity, the line would be four times shorter!”

"Dear pony, that's the order. Put your foot through the window, please," the guard ordered without any malice.

Still indignant, I obeyed. I felt the cold touch of the ointment. The swamp-smelling substance hissed, scattering green sparks across my fur.

“Come in,” the guard returned my documents. “What is the purpose of the appointment?”

“Registration of the enterprise.”

“Third hall, from here to the left.”

Bronze and Remy went through the same procedure stoically. But when the guard saw Yev'eni, he was clearly at a loss.

“Are you... Are you going to an appointment?”

“Absolutely right. We are together,” Yev'eni pointed at me with his gaze.

“Okay, just a minute. I have to call the boss.”

“They've done this to me before,” Yev'eni said. – In the Committee. By the way, what is it for?”

The pony apparently didn't hear him - he just picked up the bell and rang it loudly.

"Sir, wait a moment and let the next ponies go ahead," he ordered.

I stamped my hoof in irritation.

“I can guarantee that Yev'eni is who he says he is! Why wait again?”

"Pony, we have orders," one of the armored guards said soothingly. "We are not to blame for the delays."

I pressed my ears back, but didn't object. After all, taking out your anger on innocent guards wasn't pony-like either.

Luckily, at that moment a fourth guard appeared, a short earth pony of about fifty years old.

“What do you have here... Yeah, I see,” he leaned toward his subordinate’s desk.

“Here's the directory. Here's the list of species that fall under the general action. Here's "humans," on the fourth line. Do a standard check and skip.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Thank you,” Yev’eni bowed briefly. The ointment sparkled on his hand.

We walked across the oak varnished parquet floor through the wide vestibule, under large panoramic paintings on the history of Manehattan. Reproductions, of course, but I must admit, high quality! The town hall was decorated with copies of Pleinair List, Girtia O'Huffe, Sea Sketch... Who knows, maybe one day there will be a copy of my work hanging there?

However, this thought did not relieve the irritation.

“They say,” I lowered my voice, “that under Celestia, any pony could always make an appointment with the mayor and present their case in person. And not like now, marinating at the entrance, and then in front of a bunch of officials!”

“Well, listen,” Bronze said soothingly. “These guys can be understood too. We are in a state of war, after all.”

Yev'eni turned around abruptly.

“War?!”

“Oh!” Remy spoke at the same time. “Look, ponies, I think we're coming this way!

Luckily for us, there was no need to wait this time – there was a free seat right at the entrance. I dropped into a chair with relief – my legs were numb from standing in lines. Bronze and Remy occupied the adjacent seats, taking one from the next table, Yev’eni remained standing.

“How can I help you?” The official’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the human, but she didn’t show any more of her surprise.

“We want to register a company,” Yev’eni said.

“You?”

“Me and my friends. I have an official residence permit from Committee,” Yev'eni showed the form.

"Well, that's allowed," the fawn earth pony with the paper scroll on her hips said uncertainly. "Okay, let's see... Here's the form, fill out the application for now."

Yev'eni looked longingly at the quill and inkwell. I came to the rescue and snatched the quill with telekinesis.

“Dictate!” I knew that he had already gotten used to using them, but his handwriting was still so-so, with lots of blots, and the human did not write very quickly.

Actually, we had an idea to take the stylomech with us. But at the last moment we changed our minds. There would be time to brag about the new thing to the ponies later. And the government agency might not appreciate the innovation and refuse to accept forms filled out incorrectly.

Pony rustled her papers. She studied the drawing of the stylomech made by Bronze for a long time, asking clarifying questions several times. Then she began to write something herself.

“Here's a request for inspection,” she handed the sheet to Yev'eni. “Take it to the second floor, they'll set a time for the visit. Here's a receipt for payment of the fee, the cash desk is in the first hall. The patent department is also on the second. I understand that you know about the permit from Committee for the trade in human goods?”

Yev'eni smiled.

“I know where their office is. You could say I'm a frequent visitor there.”

“Excellent. Come here with permission from the inspector and a receipt for payment, and in two days you can pick up your certificate,” she ran her eyes over the form we had signed, nodded with satisfaction and put it away somewhere in one of the folders lying on the table.”

We headed towards the stairs. Yev'eni cleared his throat.

“And what did you say about the state...”

“Stargaze is right, there’s clearly more bureaucracy here,” our chemist interrupted him again. “Why so much running around offices, why can’t everything be done in one go?”

Yev'eni chuckled.

“The one-stop-shop principle, as we called it. It's still pretty good here. All the offices, except Committee, are under one roof, no need to go to the other end of town for every piece of paper.”

Outside the window, rain pounded. Streams of water hit the trees and roofs, washed away the cobblestones and asphalt. Thunder rumbled in the sky above the city. The few ponies hid under raincoats and umbrellas.

The Pegasi didn't do this kind of downpour often, usually a couple times a year, in early spring and late fall. To clear the roads and sidewalks, first after Winter's Wrap, and then again before the new winter. Cloudsdale was already heating up the snow lines of his famous factory, preparing to cover Equestria with a blanket of snow. There were a couple of weeks left until the winter season.

“So, here... be careful... Done!” we piled the second display case onto the windowsill, the human manually, I - helped as much as I could with telekinesis. We had to tinker with it to get it through the space between the windows, and then carefully varnish it. And the ebony wood of the display cases cost a pretty penny. But Yev'eni insisted on the expense, noting: "If we already have a dead-end point, then visual visibility is even more important!"

I opened the box with the stylomekhs. We managed to make about fifty of them in two days of hard work with breaks for food and sleep.

However, when this work will be done by four ponies instead of two (Yev'eni with work in the theater joined only at the end of the day, Remi was absent on personal matters, and the main part fell on me and Bronze) - the pace will increase! According to our estimates, it would have to be increased at least twice to pay for itself.

The stylomechs sparkled with enamel and varnish. I painted about twenty of them "to the cutie mark", taking mine, Remy and Bronze as a model. Whether ponies will buy stylomechs with other people's marks is, of course, a question! But they were needed first and foremost not for sale, but to attract attention.

The rest glowed yellow with polished wood. We simply sanded them, rubbed them with oil wax and varnished them too, sealing the holes and dipping them in varnish, then leaving them to dry. Then we assembled them by unscrewing the brass caps and inserting the fulled refills.

The sound of hammers and the screech of a hacksaw could be heard from the warehouse. It was Bronze and his nephew covering the walls with cotton wool, with Remy helping out. We left the grinding machine, capable of deafening with its hellish grinding noise, despite the insulation, in the workshop, but decided to put several small ones in our workshop – for turning the bodies, rolling tubes and some other operations. Moreover, according to Bronze, he did not have any free space for all our equipment. So there was no way without soundproofing!

“Ahem,” Steel Gear, a beige earth pony with a brown mane, stuck his head out from behind the doorframe. “Excuse me, Mister Komarov! Uncle asks for help with the exhaust, it needs third hooves... Oh, sorry, I meant "hands".”

“One second,” Yev'eni straightened up, wiping away the sweat. “Stargaze, will you put them in the display cases yourself? I think it would be better to put the personalized ones in the windows and the regular ones on the counter.”

“I think mixed. Let the ponies see right away what we have to offer!”

“Well, whatever you say, you’re our artist,” the human agreed. He dove into the back door.

“And by the way, Steel! Please call me by my name!” I heard.

“Okay, Mr. Komarov... Oh.”

I finished laying out the stylomekhs. I looked at the display cases with a critical eye.

It seems pretty good. At least, if I were passing by, I would definitely want to know what they sell here!

Rising up on my hind legs, I hung my framed drawings on the walls (Yev'eni had hammered in the hooks beforehand). They were very simple sketches, a few basic silhouettes on sheets of paper – a fir branch, a snowflake, a flower… But what was more important was that I was drawing them with a completely new tool!

Well, that's it. All that's left is to connect the water to the second sink, in the lab, connect the machines, install a workbench for Remy, draw and install a sign - and the shop will be ready for work!

There was a knock at the door.

I shuddered.

“Who's there?”

We were expecting the inspector's visit only tomorrow!

I rushed to the door, throwing it open.

“Oh!” exhaled a middle-aged, mousey earth pony with a green mane. “Thank you so much! Such a downpour, and I completely forgot about the pegasi warning! Can I sit with you for half an hour until they drive away the clouds?”

“You're welcome,” I looked around. “I'm sorry, but we can't even offer you some tea! You see, we're doing some renovations...”

“Oh, nothing, nothing!”

The pony looked around curiously. She wiped her hooves on the rug and shook herself – carefully, so as not to splash me.

“Are you opening a new shop?”

I nodded.

“Yes. We will have a small shop here selling...”

The pony was no longer listening, looking behind my rump.

“Greetings, Miss or Mrs...” Yev’eni bowed reservedly.

“Uh... hello to you too, mister. Excuse me, but who are you?!”

Yev'eni smiled politely.

“You may have heard of my kind. We are called "humans".”

The filly twitched her ears.

“I... yes, I heard.”

“We want to sell some of the items of human use,” I quickly intervened before the guest blurted out something inappropriate. I pointed my hoof at the display case.

The pony glanced at it timidly.

“These... these are human devices? What do they do?”

“Look here,” Yev'eni tore a sheet of paper from his notebook, took one of the stylomechs from the display case, and quickly wrote a few words.

The pony turned her gaze to the sheet of paper. Now with interest.

“Does it write? Is it some kind of pencil?”

“Rather the quill! Look, there's a miniature inkwell inside. And at the tip is the mechanism for feeding the ink. And unlike a regular quill, until the ink runs out, this thing doesn't need to be sharpened or dipped in ink! And the ink can't spill out of it, even if you hold it upside down!” I blurted out.

“Curious,” the pony murmured. “If you’ll excuse me?”

“Of course,” Yev’eni handed her the stylomech and the piece of paper.

The pony grabbed the smooth stick with hoofkinesis and wrote a few letters on the paper. Or rather, tried to.

“Press a little harder,” the human prompted her. A second before I wanted to say the same thing, I had already gotten used to the new device.

The earth pony thoughtfully studied the sheet of paper with its even blue lines of letters.

“Hmm,” she muttered. “And how much does such a thing cost?”

"Only fifty-six bits apiece!" I blurted out with a confidence I didn't feel.

The filly twitched her ears again.

“Oh... you know, a regular quill costs, ahem, much less...”

“But how many goose feathers do you use per day? And the stylomech will serve you for years, and all you need to do is change the inkwell inside! And it costs only twenty bits, while it lasts a hundred times longer! And the old inkwell can be recharged, and it will cost only five coins! - I hotly objected.

“Mmm... Well, maybe, maybe...” the filly opened her bag. - Well, I think I would buy one thing from you. I want to surprise my friends with a human thing. You know, when you said "human items", the first thing I thought of was some kind of scary weapon.”

We exchanged glances.

“Especially for you, as the first client, we will make a discount of up to fifty,” suggested Yev'eni. “And for an additional twenty bits - we will make a personalized stylomech for you, with your name, cutie mark and the color of the wool.

“Oh, that would be nice, but I don't have enough money for that. However, I'll tell my friends about your shop, maybe someone will be interested,” the pony promised.

“Excellent!” Yev'eni wrote something on the sheet of paper again. “Here is our address, mare.”

He put a dozen large five-bit coins into his own wallet. He handed the stylomech to the pony.

“Oh, thank you. Well, I guess I won't bore you any further. The rain has stopped, so I have to go.”

Indeed, it was no longer pouring outside, but just drizzling. Water was still trickling down the sidewalks, but mostly it was coming from the gutters.

“Thank you for visiting Stilomech of Stargaze! We look forward to seeing you again!”

“Thank you too, gentlecolt,” the filly disappeared behind the door.

I turned to Yev'eni and shook my mane.

“«Stilomechs of Stargaze»? I thought we hadn't come up with a name yet!Э

The human chuckled.

“Well, the name should have rhythm and consonance. "Stilomechs of Komaro" sounds worse. By the way, congratulations on the first sale!”

“ That's right!” I cheerfully nudged him with my shoulder.

Bronze, who appeared from the utility room, snorted.

“Actually, we don’t have the right to trade until we receive official permission.”

Yev'eni shrugged.

“We'll record it in the accounting as a sale on the opening day. This isn't a crime, is it?”

The earth pony sighed.

“Mainly don’t mention this to the inspector.”

Friendship magic is so magic

I sipped the cool drink. I listened to the hissing foam and felt the tart apple flavor on my tongue.

"They say," Philip remarked, leaning back in his wicker chair, "that this cider is donkey's piss compared to the one from that farm. I don't know, my friend, but I think this one is good, too."

“That farm?” I asked again.

We were sitting in a small street cafe on Meadow Street, not far from the theater. The owners and regulars of the cafe had already gotten used to our company, and only passersby glanced at us sideways. There was about an hour left before sunset.

The wind was cool, despite the clear weather. Far on the horizon, just above the rooftops, clouds were piling up, but not approaching the city, although the breeze should have been pushing them in our direction. If you had a good pair of binoculars, you could see multi-colored dots flickering under the clouds. The Manehattan weather crew was performing another meteorological wizardry, keeping the bad weather away from the city.

Another reminder that you are in a strange world.

"Sweet Apple Acres," said Michael, the third member of the group. In general, the Americanized Pole or Slovak was called something else, but Philip stubbornly called his friend Michael, and I had managed to forget how he introduced himself - either Michal or Mikael. So I called him Michael to myself. He worked as a loader in the Manhattan port, was broad-shouldered, dark-haired and taciturn. Limiting his conversation to such short remarks. As far as I knew, our three represented the entire small human diaspora of Manhattan.

“Oh yeah, you didn't know,” Philip slapped his forehead. “The famous apple farm from the series. The Apples still make their signature cider there, but humans will never get to try it. Even those who were released from the camp. It's good if you don't get a hoof over the head.

Michael just sighed heavily.

“So, you’re firing?” Philip changed the subject.

I nodded.

“I've had enough of the Grand Drape. And what about you, aren't you thinking of going away?”

Philip shook his hair.

“Nah, dude. I'm a man of art. The spotlights, the applause of the audience - that's what makes life worth living. For the sake of my calling, I can tolerate one asshole from the entire troupe.”

In my opinion, it was not applause that fell to our lot, but calluses from the scenery and shouts from the assistant. However, I kept quiet. If Philip liked this kind of work, who was I to dissuade him?

I took another sip of cider and glanced out the window at the ponies hurrying along the sidewalk.

“This farm. It's in, what's it called, Ponyville?”

Both drinking buddies nodded.

"Applejack was really pissed off after that incident with Fluttershy," Philip muttered. "They say she and Big Mac promised that if they saw a human in their fields, they'd kick first and talk later."

“And Twilight ?” Michael asked.

“As if you didn't know. Twilight washed her hooves, dude. Just like the last time.”

I glanced around at my interlocutors.

“Guys. Tell me what's going on there, in this camp.”

Philip's face darkened.

“It's shitty there, man. It's really shitty there.”

He took a sip too.

“You know, at first it wasn't like that. Everybody are bronies, friendship magic and all that stuff,” he grinned darkly. “Oh, I remember, at school they made us cram some book, I forgot what it was called. In short, a bunch of kids get stranded on a desert island. And at first they were all boys from good families, would you like some coconuts, Mister Jack, oh, where's Miss Governess to wipe my ass. And then they started bullying the weaklings, kicking each other's asses, and a month later there were the first deads. And there, too, it was the same. Someone pushed someone else in line at the sink, someone was rude to someone else in the cafeteria, someone had a fight over a girl... That was a whole other nightmare. One girl for fifty guys, that's crazy, you know.”

He paused for another sip of cider.

“The real shit started two years ago, when they killed that guitarist. My God, what was his name... Either Nagisa or Nomura ... Remember, the chubby one? Or did you get into it later?”

Michael shook his head silently.

“Japanese?” I asked again for some reason.

“No, just a weeaboo. He and Cody got kinda fight over a woman...”

“Over a woman?” Michael drawled, surprised. “Cody is a sort of out of this line.”

“Well, maybe it was because of guy, who knows. I wasn't there. Anyway, he started bold talking to Cody, and Cody punched his bridge in his brain.”

“And the pony?” I muttered.

“What about the ponies?” Philip smiled wryly. “The ponies managed to interfere while Armata and Semonov in the Russian barracks were pissing in each other's boots at night. And when the real shit came out...”

He lowered his voice.

“There are no witnesses, and even if there were, who would want to give his neck? Besides, what can you do with a person who is already in prison? The ponies haven't thought of whips or brig, and these scumbags are not the kind of people to be afraid of. And the princess didn't have the guts to preemptively throw the whole gang into Tartarus.”

A very professional VHS followed.

“That's when Twilight broke. She handed over the camp management to Stone Wall , and left the scientific part to Lyra. Well, Stone Wall is Neighsay's protégé with understandable views. He decided that since Cody and his gang maintain at least some order in the camp, then let it be. Since then, it's been like that - ponies don't come inside until the shit doesn’t come out. The friendship magic is so magic, dude.”

Michael nodded, looking no less gloomy.

“As soon as this crap started,” continued Philip, “I immediately realized what it smelled like. I jumped up and asked to see the princess before they shut down. I have weasel around, but I convinced her that I was all friendly magic and practically recited her diary by heart. And what? The right things were written there. It even works with ponies .

“Did you talk to the princess?”

“Well, what means “talk”? I sat in on lectures. Half of the isekaied sat in them until the freebies ran out. In general, thanks to Lira.”

“Lira?” Phil and Michael sometimes forgot that I didn’t know all these names and titles.

Philip looked at me with bewilderment.

“Equestria to Evgen, come in! That pony, you said, she examined you herself in Committee! Observation and Universal Testings!”

“A-a-a, who is Professor Heartstrings?”

“She is the one. Well, Twilight gave her the title honoris causa, but she really did a lot for us, man. Look, Mikey is one of those who got out thanks to her. And me too. She personally pressured Twilight and assured us that she thoroughly checked us out. And we are not as crazy as many isekaied. Until Stone Wall caught on and complained about her to Neighsay.”

I shook my head. Again I glanced sideways at the clouds above the horizon.

It will start getting cold soon. I need to think of something with winter footwear. I can't walk around in flip-flops on winter streets, can wI?

“Crazy?”

Both of my interlocutors exchanged glances.

“There were a lot of crazy,” Phil grimaced as if he had tasted lemon.

“You know, buddy. Just imagine some autistic vegan or schizophrenic with cerebral palsy, whose only joy in life is jerking off to a Luna’s dakimakura. And suddenly he gets shoved here, into the dream of his life. And two seconds later he's told that he's a nobody here and his place is prison. What will happen to his mind from such somersaults?”

Michael silently stared at his own clasped hands.

“There were a lot of crazy. Well, if in percentages, then a handful, but you know... Someone, like the Fifth, started yelling "Pony!" and chasing the mares. Someone got it into his head that this was a very bright drug trip, and it would be a lot of fun to run with axe and scare the ponies. One guy built a homemade altar to the Luna and burned letters to the princess on it every evening. Not paying attention to the fact that the ponies themselves looked at him like he was crazy.

And then - down the chain. The isekaieds do crazy things, ponies run a mile away from new isekaied. The guards bust the isekaied without sorting things out. Someone tries to run or fight back, shit happens. In the end... in the end it got what it got, dude. To prison instead of the School of Friendship.”

He moved his cheeks as if he wanted to spit.

“What are you interested in?”

I threw up my hands.

“Well, it's just... It's kind of strange. I've been in this world for half a year now, and I still haven't tried to find out personally how other people live. The majority, I mean. Only from rumors and stories.”

Philip narrowed his eyes.

“Hello, buddy! Are you by any chance planning to move there voluntarily?”

Michael didn't say a word. He just shook his head vigorously, as if I had actually blurted out that I intended to move to such a colorfully painted concentration camp.

“No. No, of course not, especially after all the things you've told me... I just had thoughts that I should at least understand for myself what's going on there. They tell all sorts of things, but few people around have seen him with their own eyes.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Philip said decisively. “There’s nothing to do there. Lately, even visiting is prohibited. Not to mention that in Ponyville over the years, pony have begun to look at humans worse than timber wolves.”

He drained the mug.

“That's how it is. I ran away from there almost two years ago, and I don't regret it. It's better to carry scenery behind the curtain than to be a lackey for Cody and his suckers. The only downside is that it's hard to find women, but it's hard to find them in the camp, too, that's all.”

He grinned greasily.

“And in general, the issue is solvable. Especially if your have any hands.”

It was hard to hold back a chuckle. Even Michael smiled slightly.

Phil glanced sideways at the waitress who was serving mugs of cider. Catching his eye, she approached the table.

“More cider?” she asked. Not reacting to the human appearance, fortunately we had already become familiar faces in the café.

“Yes, miss, another pint,” Phil nodded. He watched the filly go with a thoughtful look.

“The issue is solvable,” he repeated. He turned his gaze to me.

“And how it’s going with that filly you brought to the show?”

My jaw dropped somewhere.

“What?!”

“Well, that unicorn, the blue-green one. Did something work out? Because if not, I'd be happy to hit on her, since she's into bipeds.”

Blood started pounding in my ears. I didn't understand how I jumped my feet. I just suddenly realized that I was standing and the chair was lying a meter away from me.

And I lean forward, hanging over Philip.

“What. Did. You. Say?!”

“Hello!” he recoiled. “Dude, stop! What's wrong with you? I was just asking! I'm not some kind of pervert like the Fifth, no means no, I would have told that you've got it covered!”

I shook my head in bewilderment.

“What do you mean “got it covered”?!”

“Well, in that very sense,” Phil was still looking at me with apprehension. “Le grand l'amour toujours, and all that.”

I took a step back, picked up the seat and, catching my breath, sat down on it.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I thought you knew. Well, when a boy loves a girl, or a colt loves a filly...”

“Yes, I get it, damn it! That's not what I meant! She's a pony!”

Philip grinned.

“So what? It doesn't hinder the process, you know. The main thing is desire of the parties, and then it's a matter of technique. And the right little pimple in the right little pipey.”

There was a polite snort. Turning around, I saw the pony with a tray of mugs clenched in her teeth, one foot holding it over the edge.

“Excuse me,” she said, setting the tray down on the table. “Are you all right, gentlecolts?”

I nodded slowly.

“Sorry, filly. My friends and I had argued for a bit. Everything is fine. Thanks for the cider.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” the waitress collected the empty mugs and left, still glancing over her shoulder at me. I looked at Philip.

“You're talking crazy. This is some kind of perversion.”

He shrugged.

“What is natural and pleasing to both is not a perversion.”

“That's exactly what's unnatural!”

“Yes? So you have nothing to her?”

“Of course!”

“Well, then why are you so angry at me?”

And here I didn’t have an answer.

Really, why did I react like that? No, this really seems like some kind of complete perversion like zoophilia ... But if everything is voluntary and by mutual consent, then what do I care about other people's perversions?

No, it's just that Alyatara is my friend. And I don't like hearing people talk about her... like that. I don't like it, surely.

“You’re talking crazy,” I said firmly and convincingly.

Philip was already smiling openly.

“Okay, okay, dude, whatever you say, the matter is closed. We won't discuss your unicorn anymore, and your private life, either.”

“She’s not ‘mine,’” I muttered, barely holding back.

“Whatever you say, mate,” Phil clicked his tongue. “Okay, I'll hit on Stage. Maybe one day she'll turn her attention to the humble stagehand.”

I had already regained enough control of myself to manage a grin.

“I'm afraid she looks at you like you're an alien monkey.”

He shrugged.

“A woman’s heart is as fickle as the spring wind.”

“So you’re planning on opening a shop?” Michael changed the subject.

I nodded.

“Well, good luck in business,” Phil said.

“Thank you,” to be honest, before this conversation I had a thought of inviting him as a partner. A second person behind the counter would useful, warming up the public's interest due to his exotic appearance. But now I have completely discarded this idea.

I finished the mug in one gulp and put it down on the table. I also left four silver bits there.

“Okay, guys, I'm going. Business doesn't wait.”

“Well, au revoir.”

“All the best to everyone. Sometime we'll get together again.”

The door to the shop creaked.

“Hi! I'm ready to replace you.”

“Evgeniy!” Alyatara smiled warmly. “Well, I can handle it myself. There was a small influx of ponies this morning, but now they've all gone.”

“How many pieces were sold?”

The unicorn hesitated.

“Three. And two more ponies ordered personalized stylomechs. I drew the marks and colors, promised that everything would be ready the day after tomorrow.”

“Well, great. Then I'll do it now, and then I'll replace you.”

Alyatara shook her head.

“Sorry, but you're not very good at drawing. Just don't be angry, but I'll do them better.”

“What offense?” I spread my hands. “I already know that as an artist you are a hundred times cooler. You draw, and then I will varnish it.”

“Or Remy,” the unicorn nodded. She handed me the key to the cash register and disappeared behind the door of the utility room.

I climbed onto the chair, placing an empty box under the legs – the pony furniture I had bought at a sale was not very well designed for the dimensions of other species. I glanced at the neat rows of pens on the counter and in the display cases.

Of course, with such a payback we won't even pay off the loan. Three pens in half a day is nothing (I didn't tell Alyatara, but the unicorn knew how to count). However, it's a work day now. Towards evening, the ponies returning from work will definitely drop by the shop and the cashier will start filling up.

Well, finally! The enterprise is working for the fourth day, it’s too early to sum up the results and count the chickens. Rumors about us will soon spread around the city…

The door opened.

“Welcome to Stylomechs of Stargaze, gentlecolt!”

A grey earth pony with a mark of three white stars stared at me.

“Hmm? Mister, are you... a minotaur?”

“Not really. I'm a human. Human goods for the pony of Manehattan, best selection and best prices!” I tried to give my most charming smile.

The pony looked around thoughtfully.

“Human goods?”

“Yes, mister. In our world of people, we call this device…” I corrected myself in time “a stylomech. Look,” I got a pen from under the counter and left a few beautiful curls on a sheet of paper. “This is an automatic stylus with a built-in inkwell. It does not need to be cleaned or sharpened, or dipped in ink, all you need to do is replace the refill once a week or so! Imagine how convenient it is!”

The pony tilted his head curiously.

“Interesting, interesting. And how much does it cost?”

“A measly fifty-six bits, mister! And for a modest twenty bits extra, we'll repaint it to match your colors and write your name on it!”

“How much?!”

“Gentlecolt,” I added a little indignant pride to my voice. “Just imagine that you will never have to buy quills and pencils again. That you will physically can’t to make a blot or smear a line with blotting paper. And have you ever spilled an inkwell? Now you will not have to waste time and energy on wiping ink off the table and wool! Isn't it worth the money?

"Sounds reasonable," the pony picked up the demonstration stylomech from the table and left a few pony curlicues. I mentally added a chain to attach the sample to the table to my to-do list... then told myself that in the pastoral world of ponies, I hoped, it was not accepted to profit from shoplifting. Okay, let's not get distracted, we'll pressure the client while he's still warm...

“Look,” I snatched the stylomech from his hooves. “To replace the inkwell, unscrew the cap here. It's very simple, just take out the old refill and insert the new one,” I screwed the cap on. “When you're not using the stylomech, put the second cap here so the ink doesn't dry out. Although even if it dries out, you can still scribble it with a couple of strokes!

"Yes, it's a tricky thing," the pony muttered thoughtfully. "So you're saying I don't need to buy any more quills? Well, it's not like it's such a big deal... But okay, I'll take it as a souvenir to show my friends."

I gave another signature smile.

“Your friends will probably say that you are at the forefront of progress!”

"Yes, progress is galloping these days," the pony agreed. "All these new-fangled radio shows and intelligents from across the borders of the state... Okay, how much did you say? Fifty?"

“Fifty six.”

“Do you take stones?”

“Of course. Just one second,” I pulled the string of the bell.

Alyatara's head appeared in the doorway .

“Evgeniy?”

I leaned towards her ear.

“Help me count out the change.”

The unicorn looked thoughtfully at the rather large ruby.

"Eighty bits," she said. "Here's your money, mister. Welcome back for more refills!"

“That’s if I’ll actively use this thing,” the pony said doubtfully. “Okay, dear ones, all the best.”

Tail swooped down from above, dragged the ruby into the cash register drawer and, squeezing the stylomech with both paws, scribbled on a piece of paper. He handed the customer a receipt.

I bowed, watching the pony's tail disappear through the doorway.

“Fourth sale of the day.”

Alyatara sighed.

“We have to do something about this,” she said decisively. “And I know what. Can you handle it by yourself until the evening?”

“Easy. In extreme cases, I'll call Steel or Remy. Where are you going?”

“I'll drop by "World of Manehattan". First, I'll try to negotiate a discount on advertising.”

“And secondly, would you offer the stylomechs?”

“Spot on!”

“Well, go ahead. It's a good idea.”

“Of course! What discount do you think we should offer on the first batch?”

“I winced. What the hell kind of discount? We've already taken a price that's on the verge of breakeven!”

“Three bits maximum,” I finally said. “That's for regular ones. For personal ones... Well, you can put in ten there. And that's only for the first delivery.”

Alyatara also grimaced, but did not argue. As I said, she knew how to count.

“Then see you in the evening,” she smiled encouragingly and disappeared behind the door.

I watched her go.

Damn, I should have kick Phil’s ass so he wouldn’t blab too much... Okay, Zhenyok, calm down!

Don't lose your temper. It's not worth it. Especially because of a few carelessly thrown words.

By evening, the shop became crowded as I expected. There was even a small queue outside the door. True, many customers came in mainly to gawk at the strange things on display.

But I didn't give up, I used all my natural and learned charm, I honestly tried to "mirror" clients, no matter how difficult it was with a four-legged clientele, and to cover their needs. And sometimes it even worked. At least one pony who agreed to buy was enough for a couple of doubters to follow his example. My crooked sketches for orders of personalized stylomechs accumulated on a separate sheet of paper - the customer's name, color, a sketch of the mark (I belatedly thought that it would be too difficult for Alyatara to decipher my scribbles. Should I buy a camera? I think I saw a shop with them somewhere, and Alyatara mentioned that photography is quite well known in Equestria ...).

And by evening, when night had fallen on the city and firefly and electric lights were blazing outside the window, an impressive handful of bits, received from the sale of fifteen items, proudly rested in the cash register. Another eight lines were waiting for their turn on the order sheet.

It was getting dark in the shop, but I chose to turn off the overhead light. There were no more customers expected, and I was too stifled to burn electricity just for the sake of my eyesight. Only the firefly lamp on the table burned softly, snatching the display case and counter from the shadows.

And I was sitting on a chair, leaning against the wall of the store. Feeling squeezed out like a lemon.

In fact, the shirt was so soaked with sweat that it really could be wrung out.

Okay. It's okay. I'll get used to it.

This is only the first day in active mode.

It will get easier later.

There was a knock at the door.

“Hello again,” I smiled at the unicorn .

“I thought you had already closed the store,” she replied, puzzled.

“I decided to take a little rest before leaving. Steel and Remy are already home,” I said. “What surprise do you have?”

Alyatara broke into a smile.

“We have a contract for the first fifty pieces in our pocket! And another one for Flash News , the head of the reporting department. And we'll also get a ten percent discount on the ad!”

“Well done!” I gathered my strength and peeled myself off the wall. Groaning, I rose to my feet. “I wasn't so successful. Fifteen regular ones, eight personalized ones, counting yours.”

Alyatara shrugged very gracefully.

“Well, that's great! Considering what we sell to the editorial office, that's even more than our daily quota!”

I shook my head.

"Thanks for the consolation, of course, but the contract is a one-time deal. Without it, we would have to sell twice as much as today just to stay afloat."

Alyatara rounded the counter with determination. She rose up on her hind legs, so that her huge eyes were almost level with mine. She placed her hooves on my shoulders, maintaining her balance.

“Eugeniy,” she said firmly. “We’ll succeed.”

I smiled back.

“I know. Thank you.”

And suddenly I realized that her muzzle was too close to my face. And we were standing practically in an embrace.

And I quickly took a tiny step back, freeing himself from the hug.

“Phew,” I theatrically wiped the sweat from my forehead. To tell the truth, I didn't really have to pretend. “Yes, it's a troublesome work, my legs are already giving way. Shall we go home?”

“Of course,” Alyatara smiled so tenderly that something warm flared up inside me in response to this smile. She stepped toward the door. I suddenly noticed how smoothly she glided among the shadows cast by the lamp… How the muscles glided under the fur, how the blue wave of the mane fell on her back…

“Wait a minute, okay?” I asked in a dry voice.

“What is it... Oh, you want to close the entrance?”

“Aha,” I clicked the locks of the main entrance. I dimmed the lamp.

And I resolutely stepped into the tiny room to the right of the entrance to the utility room.

Turned the bronze valve and decisively splashed icy water on my face.

Come to your senses, Zhenyok! Just seven months without women - and you're already starting to look at the alien creature in a completely wrong way! In a completely unfriendly way!

It's wrong. It's perverted. It's unnatural, even if someone in this world, like Phil, has had his balls screwed enough from lack of sex...

And it looks like not just Phil.

No, no. It's not me being a fucking pervert. It was just an unfortunate coincidence of Philip's words that prompted bad thoughts, a long abstinence, and the excessively close proximity there, in the shop. Literally within arm's reach, so that it was worth slightly tilting my head...

Oh fuck!

Another portion of cold water in the face.

Thank all the gods, earthly and local, that Alyatara didn't seem to notice my reaction.

The last thing I need to reinforce her idea that all humans are complete maniacs and perverts.

“I’d love to take a dip too,” the unicorn’s melodic voice rang out. “But I don’t want to walk down the street with a wet mane. I’ll wait until I get home.”

“Yes... and I, you know, decided to freshen up a bit after a day at work,” I lied. “Well, are we moving?

“Let’s go,” smiled Alyatara.

That's the magic of friendship

The courtyard was covered in a white sheet. A couple of days ago the pegasi had driven a snow cloud over the city, and now everywhere, besides the sidewalks and roads, there was a layer of snow about three inches thick.

And along the sides of the sidewalks, where the street cleaners raked it up, there was even more!

I trotted across the yard. I briefly grabbed the frame with telekinesis, tried to open the door – and lost concentration. The painting plopped down in the freshly fallen snow.

“What a hay!”

I quickly grabbed it from the snowdrift. Luckily I thought to wrap it in wrapping paper!

I knocked. The door immediately opened slightly, and a beige head stuck out.

“Hello, Stargaze! Yev'eni is in the trading room.”

Well, of course, where else would he be?

“Can you help?”

“Oh, sure, let's go,” the pony grabbed the packing rope with his teeth. I stamped my feet, shaking the snow off my hooves.

I saw Remy rinsing something of her bottles in the sink behind the door to the utility room. The mare paused, nodded at me pleasantly, and returned to her work.

“Hello, Stargaze!” Yev'eni looked at the frame with interest. - A new painting for the holiday?

I nodded. I unwound my scarf and took off my jacket.

“Will you help me hang it?”

“Give it here,” the human carefully picked up the paper with a stationery knife.

He looked at the canvas and clicked his tongue in admiration.

“Where to hang it?”

I walked away about five feet and thoughtfully looked around the corner we had allocated for my works.

“Let's go there, above the "Snowfall". Right there is a free mount.”

Yev'eni hung the picture and stepped back, standing close to me.

“You are talented,” he said.

This time I didn't even argue. Although his words still made my fur blush.

“What is this?”

I cast a critical glance at the houses, bathed in the soft light of the crystal, and the shimmer of the northern lights above them, reflected on the branches of the huge fir tree in the middle of the square.

“Well, of course, it's not to scale... Listen, if I drew the city and the Hearth Tree, observing the proportions, we would see it only with a magnifying glass! Consider it an artistic exaggeration!”

Yev'eni coughed.

“Ah. I won’t argue, but what’s in the picture?”

“Oops!” I turned to him. “Sorry, I got carried away, huh? This is a copy of a photograph. I saw it in a booklet about the Crystal Empire. When they celebrated Hearth's Day for the first time, Princess Cadence had her subjects decorate the fir. And Sunburst cast a spell on it that made the tree's branches glow the same color as the northern lights in the sky...

There was a low chuckle.

“Okay, Stargaze, tell me more later. Listen, don't you feel sorry about selling them?”

I shrugged.

“That’s why I paint. The works that I particularly like, I keep for myself or sell to a gallery. Well… sometimes. Okay, three times.”

Yev'eni nodded.

“Your works sell better than the stylomechs. Well, in terms of money, I mean.

“That's because it's the Eve of the Hearth. Yesterday, the stylomechs were selling very well - as many as forty pieces a day.”

“If only it came so every day,” the human muttered. “Okay, will you do the painting? We still have a dozen orders from yesterday. By the way, about your Hearth Eve, I have one…”

He didn't have time to finish.

The bell rang.

"The Stylomechs of Stargaze welcome you, gentlecolt!" Yev'eni raised his hand to his heart and bowed to the stallion who entered the shop.

Stallion responded with a ceremonious bow and shuffled his hooves, wiping away the melted snow.

“Hm, hm. Are you from that species of primates that has been written about a lot in the last two years? Humanlings, or what is the correct term?”

“A human, sir. And we sell human goods. Would you like to take a look?”

“Have a look? Have a look, yes… Actually, mister, I’m looking for something suitable for my three granddaughters as a Hearth’s Warming Day gift. Do you have anything suitable among your human things?”

A wide smile followed.

“You have come to the right place!”

I didn’t look any further and headed towards the exit.

I squeezed past Steel, who was threading pipes, brushed my tail against Remy, who was mixing chemicals for the refilling. I squeezed into my corner, staring at the photographs of the cutie marks, the backs covered in Yev 'eni's close handwriting. And my own notes.

So, blue background, pink mane, mark - a paper scroll... nothing complicated. I secured the stylomech, opened the jars, made a few strokes on the palette, estimating the color.

The work progressed, and soon I stopped listening to the earth ponies chattering among themselves. The brush glided over the wood, coating the sanded and primed blanks with enamel. One by one, I set the painted blanks aside to dry. The next day, I would write the owner's name on them with a calligraphy pen and give them to Remy or Steele to varnish.

Having finished with the coloring, I took up the stylomechs that had been drying since yesterday. This work was more difficult. One awkward movement - and the damaged inscription will have to be rubbed off, and then the enamel will have to be applied to the workpiece again!

The quill flickered over the wood. It was funny – we use quills to paint a device that was supposed to replace quills… I shook my head. I stared at the rounded wooden block on which I had almost written “Spar Rudy” instead of “Star Ruby.”

Pull yourself together, lazy pony! At the academy you could sleep three or four hours a day!

In general, we need to come up with something of template! Drawing the inscriptions takes a lot of time and effort. Cut out the names on a paper stencil in advance, and then just apply paint?

The letters flashed before my eyes, stubbornly blurring into snowflakes. It would be nice to really paint a few stylomechs with snow patterns, this would suit well on the Hearth’s Warming Eve… The snowflakes danced, not let my gaze to focus… I stretched out my hoof, trying to catch a dancing ice…

“Hey! Anypony! Squad didn’t notice the loss of a fighter, did it?”

I jumped up.

“Oh.”

Steel and Remy turned around in unison and stared at me.

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Listen,” he asked carefully. “When I went to bed, you were wandering in front of the easel. What time did you go to bed?”

I felt myself blushing again.

“Uh-uh... Well, I have not been long...”

Remy giggled into her hoof.”

“Good morning.

I playfully lashed her side with my tail.

“Okay, guys, stop! I'll wash up now and be as fresh as a daisy!”

“Stargaze,” Yev'eni clicked his tongue, “you need to go to the saleroom now. You know what? Go home and get some sleep.Э

I shook my mane angrily.

“Are you going to be on your feet two shifts without a break? No way! I said I'm fine! It's your own fault for overstay too long.”

“Are you sure?” Yev'eni looked at me thoughtfully.

“At the hundred and twenty!” I jumped off the chair and trotted into the utility room. Where I filled the sink with water and stuck my muzzle in it.

When I returned, the human was already throwing on his jacket. Fitting rather awkwardly, with the sleeves rolled up, it was obvious that it was sewn for a minotaur.

“Can you hold out until the end of your shift?” he asked.

“Get off!” I playfully nudged him in the side. “I just got carried away and sat at the easel for a couple of extra hours. Not the first time.”

“Which one do I remember?” the human drawled.

“Uh-uh... well... Well, that's enough! By the way, this is the call of my mark. It's not that easy to fight it, you know! And the money wouldn't hurt either.”

“That's true,” Yev'eni rubbed his forehead. “Okay, see you tonight. Maybe I'll drop by again.”

The cold shower helped for a short time - my thoughts were stubbornly confused. I yawned once, twice, shook my head, driving away sleep.

I gave myself an honest pony's word not to sit up late this evening.

Three or four more ponies dropped in. One was interested in a personalized stylomech, two bought regular ones. I dutifully accepted the money, trying my best not to embarrass the visitors with a yawn. The squirrels chirped sympathetically from their work stations.

The bell rang.

"The Stylomechs of Stargaze" welcome you...” don't yawn, don't yawn, don't yawn... Stop!

“Silver?!”

Pegasus smiled widely.

“Hello, Stargaze. So this is what your little business looks like?”

I looked at her, stunned.

“Hi, of course. And… how you…?”

The pegasus waved her wing in front of my face.

“Hey, Stargaze! Last Tuesday you told Mike and me about your business and gave us the address!”

I grabbed my head.

“What a hay, for sure! Sorry. I didn't get much sleep this morning...”

Silver snorted.

“Didn't get much sleep, you say? Let me guess, a night on your hooves in front of an easel?

I nodded sheepishly.

“I recognize Stargaze Winter,” my classmate chuckled. “Your habits haven’t changed since the academy.”

The door creaked, this time the inner one.

“Hello again... Oh, Silver, welcome to us.”

Yev'eni carefully placed on the counter the magic flask I had brought to the shop a couple of days ago. The runes on the sides of the flask glowed faintly, indicating that something had been placed in the vessel. The lid snapped off, and a cloud of hot steam rose into the air.

I took a greedy breath.

“Is this coffee?!”

“Exactly,” the human said with a satisfied look. “I made a detour to the coffee shop and asked them to pour me a cup in a thermos. Here’s a donut.”

The hot, tasteless coffee seemed to me like a gift from princesses.

“You saved me!”

Yev'eni blushed visibly.

“I have selfish motives. It won't reflect well on the establishment if the owner nods off right in the hall. Isn't that right, Silver?”

The pegasus didn't react. She hung flapping her wings in front of one of my landscapes, with snow-covered Ferrier Hill.

“How is this accomplished?” she asked.

I chuckled.

“Guess.”

“Ink? But the lines are too even... And for a pen, on the contrary, the shading of the transitions is too good... Stargaze, don't keep me in suspense!”

The bell rang again.

“Silver,” the pegasus exhaled, leaning tiredly against the wall. “I… phew. Barely found it. Good afternoon. Phew.”

My friend turned around.

“What happened, Mikey? You look like you flew from here to Canterlot!”

“Something like this...” the pony peeled himself off the wall. “Holy Celestia, I hate exercises. How my wings hurt...”

I pushed the second stool.

“Have a seat.”

Mike quickly plopped down on her.

“Exercises?” Yev’eni asked with interest.

Pegasus nodded wearily.

“Drills of a transport whirl. For the love of all things, why do I need it? I'm a supply officer, my job is to make sure the teams don't run out of bags, notebooks, and coffee in the duty room! But the regulations say that if you're on the weather team, you have to fly out to sea and drag a tornado from place to place! And when they ask us for a real hurricane, real weatherponies will fly out to make it, we're not some backwater where they put every wing into action! What kind of stupidity is this?”

Yev'eni raised his eyebrows.

“Tornado?”

“Yeah,” Mike carefully moved his wings and winced. “Well, a big cloud whirl. Like a rotating column between the cloud and the surface. They sometimes form on their own, if the hurricane is strong enough and there are no weather crews nearby. But we have learned to create them artificially and stabilize them to drag water from place to place.”

“I know what a tornado is, it's just... Dragging water?”

Pegasus nodded.

“You know, if you rely only on the clouds that bring to Equestria from oceans, there might not be enough water for rain exactly when and where it is needed. That's why Cloudsdale keeps a special water buffer in its storage facilities, from which it forms seed clouds for fronts, or simply regulates the moisture if the natural flows are suddenly overdried. This is all an open system, it has pressure surges, humidity surges, magothermal waves...”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“I knew you controlled the weather over Equestria with magic. But I didn't think it was that hard...”

Mike sighed very heavily.

“You're not еру only one. Most of the earths and unicorns - sorry, Stargaze, not about you personally - and let's face it, the pegasi too... In short, many pony think that the work of weather teams is just "cloud here, cloud there". And this, by the way, is a whole science! One mistake - and part of Equestria will remain without rainfall, and somewhere else there will be a flood.”

“I know how important your job is, Mike,” Silver patted the special pony on the shoulder with her wing. “Just… Guys, are we disturbing you?”

Yev'eni waved it off.

“It's quiet now. Our main visits are in the morning and evening, if on weekdays.”

Silver looked back at the drawing.

“Stargaze, so what is this?”

Instead of answering, I took out a demo sample and handed it to the pegasus.

“Try it!”

The artist drew several lines on the paper, changing the tilt and pressure. She looked at the result with interest.

“Interesting device! Stargaze, how does this thing work? You haven't even dipped it in ink...”

I began to briefly explain the structure of the stylomech to her. Silver listened with bated breath. She tried to make a small sketch on the same sheet.

“You know, my friend,” she said, patting my leg, “this could grow into a new genre in art.”

"We position this thing as a writing instrument," Yev'eni said. "Although... Of course, you can use it for drawing. Just keep in mind that the ink is unstable in open light; after six months to a year, the drawing will begin to fade."

Mike stood up with a groan. Silver looked over his shoulder.

“Interesting,” he agreed thoughtfully. He grabbed the stylomech with his teeth and also tried to write something.

"Be careful!" I warned. "The covering is fragile. You have to hold them with hoof-kinesis."

“Fragile?” Mike spat out the stylomech. He twisted it in his hooves, shook it. Tried to break it.

"Mike!" Silver exclaimed indignantly.

Ignoring her, the pegasus made several strokes on the sheet of paper.

"Mr. Komarov," he said in a businesslike tone. "How is this thing waterproof? Or resistant to sub-zero temperatures?"

He threw up his hands.

"Remy!" he called through the open door. "Can I see you for a minute?"

“Right now!” the pony responded. There was a clinking of glass, the sound of water. A blue head poked through the doorway.

“What's happened?”

Yev'eni repeated Mike's question.

Remy chuckled.

“Crystal violet is a waterproof thing in itself. If you mean waterproof ink, of course. As for waterproof stylomech – well, I don’t recommend keeping it under water anyway. Frost resistance – up to ten degrees, perhaps.”

“Can it write on wet paper?”

Remy and Yev'eni shook their heads in unison.

“The ink will flow.”

Yev'eni coughed.

“Why the question, Mr. Hoof?”

Pegasus looked at our three.

“Foreponies and accountants often complain that sharpening a pencil in flight is inconvenient, and besides, reports according to regulations must be filled in with ink. They spend a lot of time rewriting documents. With this thing, you could fill out a weather form right in the air… If only you could figure out how to hold it with your teeth. And so that you could write with it in the rain or frost.

Yev'eni shook his head.

“Well, teeth are the simplest thing. Some rubber case and that's the end of it. But as for water resistance...”

“And frost resistance,” Remy picked up. “Although, if we go back to oil bases... We can experiment, although what will come of it... We can increase the proportion of crystal violet in the recipe...”

Yev'eni scratched the back of his head.

“What if we add some tosol to the ink?”

The earth pony looked at him in bewilderment.

“Add what?”

“Tosol. Well, antifreeze. Non-freeze-liquid. Don't you use it?”

Remy closed her eyes.

“To be honest, I read something about such things back in college. Give me a couple of days to refresh my memories. I won't tell you now.”

Mike shook his head.

“How much is this thing?”

“Fifty-six gold.”

“I'll take it. I'll show it to the guys from the teams tomorrow, let's see what they say.”

Silver rose into the air and removed the landscape from the wall.

“And then I'll steal the painting from you. I'll drop in tomorrow to see some friends from the exhibitions and let them look at this thing. May I?”

I laughed.

“May? Guys, I don’t know how to thank you for your help!”

Pegasus smiled too.

“Well, that's the magic of friendship, isn't it? The princess says so.

Evening (no, night) Manehattan enveloped us in a snow cloud. Most of the ponies were already at home, and silence fell on the city. Disturbed only by the crunch of snow under hooves.

What means “silence”? Relative, Manehattan never went to sleep completely! From Hooflin came distant laughter and the hum of voices, the clatter of hooves and the rustle of taxi wheels on cleared asphalt. They just begun to replace old cobblestone pavement in our area this summer.

I yawned again. The coffee had long since worn off, and all I wanted was bed.

"Don't fall asleep while walking," Yev'eni warned me. "I can't carry you in my arms."

“Well, thank you!” I pretended to pout. “I already know that I'm fat!”

“What?! Stargaze, I didn't mean...”

I stole a glance at his puzzled face and, unable to keep, burst out laughing.

“You should see yourself now!”

He leaned forward decisively and pretended to swing a snowball.

“I'll get you now!”

“You can't, I have telekinesis!” here, of course, I bragged... However, Yev'eni believed me - the snowball flew into the sign instead of me. Quite accurately landing on the crossed scissors and comb depicted on it.

Our shadows danced in the lantern light, doubling and overlapping. The firefly lamps cast blurred reflections on the blue-silver snow cover. Their light mixed with the silver rays of the moon, and it seemed as if the night city had sunk deep under water. As if we were walking not through Manehattan, but through Seaquestria during the Storm War.

Oh, goodness, what an idea! Of course, I wasn't sure whether the streets of the sea ponies were like ours... but clearly they weren't! But I have the right to artistic convention, don't I? To depict the city as having sunk to the bottom of the sea, the city alleys as being overgrown with giant algae, and instead of star lights, to draw the lights of jellyfish and deep-sea fish... And to leave the streets and roofs covered in snow!

To puzzle the viewer – and to keep this magical atmosphere of underwater darkness and winter street…

I can’t wait to get home and immediately rush to my workplace while the image is still in front of my eyes!

“Stargaze!” the human's call interrupted me.

I twitched my ears.

“What? Sorry, I missed it.”

“No pictures at half past twelve at night.”

“What? How did you...”

Now Yev'eni laughed.

“You had a very thoughtful expression on your face, you looked at the city streets for ten minutes, looking through me, and then you quickened your pace. You always have that before you get stuck in the paint.”

I blushed.

“I'll just be for a minute...”

Yev'eni shook his head vigorously.

“I know your minutes.”

“Tyrant!”

“Yeah. And an alien occupier.”

The cold nipped at my nose. Candy canes, garlands and fir branches had already appeared here and there above the closed doors and dark windows of the shops. Wild clouds, missed by the pegasi, were running towards the moon, briefly covering it.

“And anyway, we need to come up with something about shifts,” the human said thoughtfully. - It's okay with me, not first time married, but at this rate you'll soon be eating up coffee by the liter, and we'll go broke.”

“Married?” I stared at him.

“Ugh. Don't pay attention, it's just a vulgar saying. It just came to mind.”

“A-a-a, I see... Listen, what's there to come up? There are two of us ponies for two shifts... I mean, two intelligent ones!”

“Oh, okay, I get it.”

“Well, that's it. And someone has to paint out the blanks! There's no other way. We can't afford to pay a second salespony. It's good that Steel and Remy help out sometimes.”

Yev'eni sighed.

“You'll get completely worked up.”

I waved my hoof.

“It’s nothing. I'm used to it. Before exams, I would sometimes not sleep for several days in a row.”

“She’s used to it,” he muttered. “It’s just a bad habit, you know.”

“You work no less yourself!”

“Yes, but I don’t sit at my paintings until half past four.”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted myself, grabbing the door handle with my teeth.

Yev'eni followed my movement with his eyes thoughtfully.

“I’ve noticed this for a long time,” he said. “Stargaze, doesn’t this thing seem strange to you?”

I looked at him, then at the door. It was no different from any other.

“Which one is this?”

Yev'eni took hold of the handle.

“The door. Look. Don't you get the feeling that it was made for my fingers? It's really inconvenient to open it with your mouth, for that the handle had to be turned sideways and made thinner. And so with many things - from cups to your brashes. But they look exactly like in my world.”

“Well, I never really thought about it... Although listen. The hoof-kinetic field works better on irregularly shaped objects, everyone knows that. Besides, there are many species with fingers! Dragons, minotaurs, griffins, abyssinians, dogs...”

“But they seem to be rare among you?”

“Maybe rarely,” I closed the door. “But, apparently, it's easier than making separate things for each race. Well, anyway, it's been accepted for a long time.”

Yev'eni looked unconvinced, but didn't argue. We walked up the stairs, entered the apartment and plopped down on the couch without even turning on the light - we were both too tired. We just threw our jackets somewhere in the area of the human couch.

“Yev’eni,” I called out to him, overcoming my drowsiness.

“Ouch?” he yawned.

“Listen... I wanted to ask for forgiveness.”

“What was that for?” judging by his tone, even sleep had left him.

“I promised my family a year ago that I would spend the next Hearth’s Warming Day with them.”

“Uh-uh... As they say, “the question is clear, but what’s the problem?”

I sighed.

“I just… I just thought – what is it like to celebrate Hearth Day in a strange city alone…”

There was a short chuckle.

“I don't see any difficulties at all. I'll ask Phil and Michael to come and have a drink, or maybe just relax at home. I've never celebrated it, so I don't have anything to lose.”

I turned to him.

“Never celebrated Hearth's Warming Day? Oh, right, you... But you have a similar holiday! You said so!”

The human threw his hands behind his head. Judging by the silhouette, faintly visible in the light of the lanterns.

“How can I explain it to you... We have two holidays, Christmas and New Year. They are both very similar to your Hearth Day, they are even celebrated on almost the same day. But in our country it was not customary to celebrate Christmas for a long time, and everyone began to celebrate New Year instead. In other countries they celebrate Christmas, and it is closer in date to your holiday.”

"How strange," I drawled. "We have a New Year's Day, too, but it's simply the date of the founding of Equestria as a state and the moment of the date change. No special significance."

“Here you go.”

“But how do you celebrate your New Year? Is it similar to our holiday?”

“How do we celebrate? Well, we also put up and decorate a fir, you remember how surprised I was when I saw yours... We give each other gifts.”

“Just like us!”

“Yeah. We cook special dishes - usually a special salad, tangerines, herring under a fur coat...”

“Under a fur coat? Is that a dish too?”

“Yeah, it's a fish salad, that's just what it's called. Well, that's it. We gather around the table, turn on an old comedy about a man who drank too much and accidentally went to another city, and there he ended up in an apartment very similar to his own... Then we listen to a festive concert, and when midnight approaches, it is interrupted by the ruler's congratulations. Then exactly at midnight, when the clock strikes, we open a bottle of champagne and drink to a festive toast. Then we go outside, launch fireworks, make snowmen, play snowballs...”

“It must be so much fun,” I said dreamily. “I’d like to see your holiday someday.”

Yev'eni laughed.

“So what's the matter? Are you leaving for a long time?”

“For about three days.”

“Well then, let's do it! We'll celebrate just in time for your return!”

I jumped up on the sofa. Its springs creaked pitifully.

“Great idea! Yev'eni, you're a genius!”

He laughed again.

“So you're going to visit your family? They're somewhere nearby, right?”

“Yes, in New Haysey, it's a small village on the mainland. My father works as a mage-dowser in the mines near Hollow Shades, so he's not home for a long time. And my mother is a housewife.”

“I see,” Yev’eni muttered absently.

I hesitated. I gathered my courage.

“Look... I'm sorry if this question seems awkward. You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

“I can’t even imagine what awkward you were going to ask me,” the human said, perplexed.

I turned around, settling myself more comfortably on the sofa, facing him.

“You know... You don't tell anything about your life on Earth. I understand that it's hard for you to think that you'll never see your friends and family again... But maybe it will be easier if you talk about it?”

Silence answered me. Yev'eni sat with his chin resting on his clasped hands.

“Sorry I asked,” I whispered.

"No," came the answer. "No. You're right, Stargaze. I have to let it go."

He also turned towards me, leaning his back against the corner of the backrest and armrest.

“Earth… I grew up in Moscow, it’s the capital of the country. I have a brother and a half-sister, both younger. I don’t remember my father – he and my mother split up when I was five. I moved away from them when I was twenty, I wanted to try living on my own. I rented a one-room apartment in the Moscow region… I studied to be a programmer, but in my third year I ran out of money and there was no chance of state-funded. And I had a feeling that it wasn’t my thing… You know, we don’t have marks like you – you have to try at random until you figure it out…”

"Not everypony gets a cutie mark in childhood here either," I muttered. "Usually between the ages of eight and twelve, but sometimes ponies spend a long time searching for themselves before they figure out what their talent is. Or how to interpret their cutie mark..."

Yev'eni nodded.

“My case, I guess. I got a job in a workshop, we were assembling and repairing locks - that's how I figured out how to fix yours. Then a year later I got a job in a trading company, they dealt with all sorts of stationery souvenirs. I worked there for a couple of years, sometimes I had to delve into all sorts of things - what we were selling, how it worked... That's where I found out about pens. No, we assembled them from ready-made parts, but I got carried away, started reading all sorts of things about sorts, about ink. And then I ended up with you - and remembered.”

He was silent.

“Listen,” I asked on impulse. “Did you have someone special on Earth?”

“Special?” Yev'eni asked, puzzled. “Oh, you mean, a girl?”

I nodded.

“Well, how can I tell you... There was one girl from the parallel group in the first year, but nothing serious worked out between us. Then... then after moving, I met Yulka at a club. We dated for about two years, but in the end we realized that it was stressing us out, and so... You know, we decided to take a break from each other.”

He coughed.

“Listen... Do you have someone in this regard...”

“A special pony?” now, apparently, it’s my turn to ask again.

“Yeah,” Yev’eni said.

“Well, something like that... I dated an earth pony from the editorial office, Fast Type. But he transferred to work in Fillydelphia. We tried a relationship by mailing, but you know... it turned out that it doesn't work,” I shrugged. “We talked during his last visit, and we both agreed that it was better not to tie each other down with obligations.”

“I see,” he cracked his fingers. He fell silent.

“You know, I really do feel better,” he suddenly said after a pause. “Perhaps it really had to be talking. And even then… Although,” he shuddered.

“You know, in a way... It's like I've moved to another country, from where I can't even send a letter or text. I tell myself that they're doing well there, even though I can't see them. Then I remember what was left back home in the bathroom...” he cut himself off abruptly.

“And then,” he exhaled after a minute of silence. “Soft Grit told me some things, then I asked Phil. Two years after my” he stopped, exhaled sharply through clenched teeth “death. Two years after that, a pandemic began. A new disease appeared. Millions died, according to official figures alone, and Philip said that some estimates go up to tens of millions.”

I felt an icy chill run through my skin. That's more than the entire population of Equestria!

“And then,” the human muttered almost inaudibly, “the war began. I don't know who was right, who was wrong... politicians, damn them... The first shots were fired while I was still alive, then everything seemed to calm down... And four years after I... well, the real big bloodshed began. It's crazy. And no one here knows how it ended. After a certain point, the dead just stop being drawn here. Mike said there's a theory that back on Earth... there's just no one left who would watch the show about you.”

I stood up and leaned forward.

“Stargaze? What are you...” Yev'eni stopped short when I wrapped my front legs around his neck. He shuddered.

A human hand slid uncertainly over my mane.

“What would I do without you?” he said in a low voice, continuing to stroke the back of my neck. “I would have gone crazy in the first few days, like those poor souls, I guess. Thank you.”

“Everything will be fine,” I promised quietly. Feeling the curls of my mane slide through his fingers. I closed my eyes and buried my muzzle in his shoulder.

Yev'eni winced. He gently but firmly pushed me away.

“What?..”

“We have to get up early tomorrow,” he said in a shaky voice. “Listen, just a little bit more and we’ll pass out on the couch.”

I blushed.

Thank the Sisters, my face can't be seen in such dim lighting.

Silly pony, who asked you to pry into the personal space of another species? You know that even in the culture of griffins and minotaurs, hugs are not given the same importance as in ours! Even a simple friendly hug can seem impolite!

“Are you sure it’s friendly?” a sneaky little voice whispered somewhere in the depths of my brain.

And this made me blush even more.

Enough, stupid pony! Thank Celestia that your thoughts are unknown to anyone!

This is all I need to completely knock Yev'eni off his stride! And it's so amazing that he's holding up so well after all that he's been through!

“S… sure,” I muttered. “Come on. It’s time to go to bed.”

Heart's Warming Day

Author's Note

Merry Heart's Warming Day and Happy New Year, everypony 🌲🍾🥂🍰🎉🎊🎁🎇🎆

P.S. There is clop scene bottomly 👦:duck:🌃🗽🌲🎁📻🥂💕✨🔞

Heart's Warming Day

Bronze closed the ledger with a rustle of pages.

"Well, friends," he said. "For a month of work our profit is four thousand one hundred eighty bits. In this number I included the earnings of all of us, except Steel. As you can easily calculate, this is less than half of what we expected.

Remy sighed. She looked thoughtfully at the scratch on the workbench she was sitting at.

We settled down in the same Bronze workshop where we tested refills and mixed inks. In the dim light of the fireflies, the switched-off machines looked like some ancient dinosaurs sleeping along the walls. The parts laid out on the tables gleamed dimly, and the rags hanging from the cupboard trembled in the draft.

I tapped my fingernail on the table.

“Bronze, is this taking into account the sales of paintings or not?”

“Of course not,” the pony responded. “This is Alyatara's earnings, I think it belongs to her. Or do you disagree?”

“She doesn’t agree and demands that the proceeds from the paintings be counted as part of the general income,” I chuckled. “But I think you’re right. It’s more honest.”

The pony left to meet her parents two hours ago. On a train, at the sight of which my masculinity whined and tucked its tail. At the sight of this bright pink (!) train with heart-shaped windows (!), from the purple, yellow, pink, green roofs of the carriages (!) decorated like cream cakes (!) I physically felt my blood sugar rise. Holding back my horror, I hugged the unicorn goodbye and, as soon as the train started moving, I hurried out onto the city streets. Moderately noisy, moderately dirty and moderately gray.

Just the thing to balance out this steam-belching gingerbread-candy glamour monster.

“Then we’ll put the question off until she returns,” Bronze bowed his head. “Well, let’s get back to the bits.”

I paused, calculating in my mind.

“At least we're not in the black. The loan payment and rent have paid off, we've even come out a little bit ahead.”

“That’s true,” agreed Bronze. “But there’s no point in even thinking about expanding the business under these circumstances.”

Remy's head snapped up.

“We've only just started working! It's too early to talk about expansion, don't you think?”

“I'm just stating a fact for now. We've earned something, but from the point of view of the business owners, not its workers, it's unprofitable.”

“I agree with Remy here,” I intervened. “While the distribution channels are being established, while they haven't found out about us... Let's wait at least three months before drawing conclusions. Although, if you want your share in full, Alyatara and I won't object. You're an investor, you're investing in equipment and spare parts.”

Bronze turned his head and looked at himself.

“Does it look like I've grown a beak, feathers and a tail with a tassel? Let's divide it fairly, between four and equally.”

"Speaking of distribution channels," Remi interjected before I could clarify the point of the joke. "Maybe we should look for other options? Besides an ad in the newspaper and handing out business cards?"

I shrugged.

“Everything else is an expensive pleasure. Next month we will try to run through other editorial offices, offer stylomechs with their symbols in exchange for a discount on advertising. Although we need to be careful here. As I understand Alyatara, their competition is tough, if they find out in the "Manehattan World" that we cooperate with some "Manehattan News", we will instantly lose our supplies and discount.”

Bronze snorted skeptically.

“Any other ideas?”

I could only throw up my hands.

“We were trying to know the price for radio advertising. It's definitely out of our budget for now. One monthly commercial would eat up all the profit, even if we take pictures. Maybe later...”

“But your idea with the Hearth Day symbolism worked well, by the way, it’s a pity we thought of it too late,” Remy noted. “Maybe we’ll try it for Hearts and Hooves Day?”

Hearts and Hooves Day?

“It’s lover’s holiday,” Bronze enlightened me.

Oh, of course. Another mysterious similarity between worlds. I wonder what they think in Committee about this?

It's not that I was eager to find out from them.

“We still need to work till it,” I shrugged. “But we’ll certainly try.”

"Speaking of distribution channels," Bronze remarked, "what were you saying about the weather team contract?"

I chuckled.

“So far they've ordered two dozen, to try. But Mike asked me to tell you that his bosses like the idea of frost- and water-resistant stylomechs. Remy, what do you think?”

The blue earth pony ruffled her bangs.

“I can increase the proportion of crystal violet in the pigment,” she said. “The color will change slightly, but the ink will hold up better. At least the lines won’t run if they get wet. But as for frost resistance…”

She pulled out her notebook and rustled the pages.

"I was thinking about going back to glycerin," she said. "But it's possible that we'll have to repeat the whole testing cycle all over again. I'm not sure that the new ink will work with the old refills, so we'll have to re-select the channel widths."

Bronze and I shook our heads at the same time.

“For a constant supply, it would make sense,” the earth pony said. “But for a few dozen… I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Remy turned the page.

“I have another idea. About five or ten years ago, the Canterlot shipyards were working on a high-altitude airship project. They were planning to use glycol additives to prevent the coolant in the tubes from freezing. But they didn't succeed.”

“Glycols?” Bronze asked. “But…”

“Yes,” Remy picked up. “The mixture turned out to be too toxic and corrosive. But we are not going to fill the refills with it in its pure form. A small addition of glycol to the solvent is enough to lower the freezing temperature by a good ten degrees, without significantly changing the properties of the solution. At the same time, its amount in one refill is fifty times less than the dangerous dose.

“I see one nuance in this, even two,” Bronze said gloomily.

“Which ones?” I asked.

The earth pony lightly tapped the table.

“Corrosivity, that's one. How long will the tip last with such an additive?”

Remy flicked her tail.

“Longer than the ink runs out. Even with reloads, I suppose.”

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes again.

“Well, I wouldn't advise heating the rod. It can esterify the lubricant and ruin the ink.”

Bronze stopped her with a gesture.

“I don't understand this anymore, my point is mechanics. If you say it should work, then let's try and check. But there is one more minus.”

"I see it too," the earth pony nodded. "No one will let us work with it in the living area. Only a separate building, with an exhaust hood, a runoff, and special clothing."

I sighed.

“Then that's not an option either. The expenses...”

Bronze raised his hoof, stopping me.

"What if we contact Torsion?" he said thoughtfully. "She has a laboratory for working with mercury. And if I promise her a discount on the next order, she'll let us use it for a couple of evenings even without paying. And the refills themselves can be recharged in our workshop, it's not a concentrated substance.”

I picked up a pencil, ready to do some calculations.

“How much will this affect the price of reagents?”

“The bit somewhere,” Remy wrinkled her forehead.

The red earth pony thought.

“Let me chat with Torsion first, then I’ll tell you for sure,” he finally said.

I nodded.

“Okay, then we'll wait for an estimate on the money. Remy, then, once the issue with the lab is resolved, will you do the experiments? Once we understand that the samples work, we'll contact the weatherpony and announce the price. In the meantime, I'll tell Mike that we're ready to cooperate, but some preparatory work is needed.”

Both my companions nodded.

I frowned, wondering if I had missed anything. Some thought was crossed my mind and wouldn’t go away. Something related to recent events… Something related to Alyatara…

Coffee.

Thermos.

Or rather, a flask enchanted to keep the coffee hot.

“Bronze! What about these magic mugs with refrigerators? Can this magic be cast on the refill?”

The earth pony sighed.

“Unlikely. The object is too small to apply runes to. Even if there was a unicorn with a magnifying glass and the necessary skill of micro-embossing on crystals, the spells would start to overlap and interfere. You wouldn't want the ink to boil and freeze all at once, would you?”

“I see you understand this as well as a unicorn,” Remy noted.

Bronze snorted:

“Do you think any of them ever thought of making a watch that used magic instead of mechanics? It worked out in all sorts of ways, of course. But unless you're a genius like the princess or Starswirl, mechanics are much more reliable. Springs and gears spin the way you made them, if you made them right. And spells work the way they want themselves, especially if you need them to work without the supervision of the unicorn who cast them.”

He pulled out the partnership's checkbook.

“Okay. Let's get to the good part.”

Filled out and tore out several bills.

“Here you go,” he said, handing us the receipts. “Eugeniy, will you give it to Alyatara yourself or shall we wait until she returns?”

“What's the difference?” I shrugged. Carefully put both bills, mine and the unicorn's, into my wallet pocket.

Bronze smiled.

“Well then. Since we're done with the calculations and plans... Merry Hearth's Warming Day, friends!”

He pulled three pairs of watches from his pocket, each on a thin gold chain. Not wristwatches, but rather round metal cases – I had only seen them on the Internet. Each case cover had a carved monogram. My copy had two crossed stylized ballpens, and the other one Bronze gave me had Alyatara’s cutie mark.

I burst out laughing.

Bronze turned his ears towards me questioningly.

“You read my mind!” I finally explained to him. “Alyatara didn't have time to finish before today, so she asked me to give you gifts. And as for me...” without finishing the sentence, I stood up and took a small canvas bag from the hanger.

“Happy holiday to both of you, from me and her!”

The bag contained two miniature portraits in carved lacquered frames. Alyatara had painted them with quick strokes of stylomech, but the portrait resemblance to Bronze and Remy was unmistakable.

Then two stylomechs appeared, just like the ones we painted every day in the workshop. One was light red with a tiny clock, the other was blue with a drop of ink.

Remy blushed so much that her face itself turned purple.

“Oh, colts, forgive me, for the Sisters' sake!” she exclaimed. “I also prepared something for you, but I completely forgot that you and I are unlikely to see each other tomorrow, Bronze...”

The earth pony smiled.

“What difference? You can give it back after the holidays, or whatever you prefer. In the meantime... How would you like to celebrate Hearth's Day at Lemon Cake's? They don't close for another hour.”

“I don’t mind,” Remy responded.

“Me too,” I joined in.

“Well then, let's go!” We all rose from our seats. The front door creaked, revealing the lights of evening Manehattan to our eyes. Bronze paused at the entrance, fiddling with the lock.

I threw back the latch. I grabbed the window sashes and pulled them towards me.

With a creak they parted to the sides, and fresh winter air rushed into the apartment.

I leaned against the windowsill.

A beautiful sight.

The whole city is sparkling with lights. New Year's (or should I say "Hearth’s"?) garlands are twinkling in the windows, shimmering with multi-colored magical light. Some houses are already completely hidden in clouds of magical glow. Someone in the neighboring block is already launching fireworks. If you bend over and stretch your neck, you can see the top of a fir tree, decorated in the neighboring square.

And a crowd of ponies under the windows.

I closed the window and carefully brushed away the few snowflakes that had managed to settle on the dry windowsill. I poured myself a cup of tea and sank into the armchair.

How nice it is to finally stretch out my legs and relax.

The holiday turned out to be a difficult day.

The ponies were running around the shops trying to buy forgotten gifts at the last minute. The batch of two hundred stylomechs, painted with snowflakes and fir trees, was gone in an instant, as were the landscapes of Alyatara. It took me all of last night to paint the personal orders, despite the selfless help of Steel Gear and Remy - by the way, I need to tell Bronze to give the guy a bonus. I was actually planning to close the shop at half past seven for the holiday...

Yeah, right. I left my workplace at ten o'clock in the evening.

It was also possible to jump up and show up at Phil's party - he invited me "to come in if you change your mind." And celebrate the holiday among your own biological species. But...

There was no desire.

I'm too tired to have fun.

And tomorrow I had a small quest ahead of me – to find cooked sausage in a city inhabited by herbivorous creatures. To demonstrate to Alyatara what our traditional Olivier salad is.

Not the real - the one with capers, ham and show-off. Namely, the traditional one.

And other holiday attributes in the form of tangerines and fir branches. Fortunately, this was easier in Manehattan.

But I had no desire to do this with a hangover.

Just like meeting Alyatara at the station with bags under his eyes and a hangover.

I caught myself involuntarily smiling.

Damn... or what a hay, as they say in Equestria. I really miss her company. Her cheerful, ringing voice, the light push of her shoulder into my thigh, the clatter of her hooves on the floor...

Damn, Zhenyok. What's wrong with you?

I went to the window again and pressed my forehead against the glass.

Actually, there is a very clear name for your condition...

Stop. Abandon. Terminate. Reset. Abort the function.

Don't be silly, Zhenya.

It's just... just the body's reaction. Shock, fear, stress, tension. Participation, help, empathy, gratitude. Ancient psychological mechanisms that have given out, as they say, a recognition failure...

And these mechanisms have a well-known name, right?

“Stop-stop-stop,” I said to my reflection in the glass. “Stop-stop-stop.”

You just have to ignore it. Let the wave of hormones subside. After all, I'm long past the transitional age when you feel like doing crazy things because you're not getting laid.

Tomorrow I will meet the unicorn from the train, we will walk home together, then the next day we will go to work. The emotions will subside, and we will remain just good friends, without any unnatural ulterior motives. The main thing is not to do anything stupid, not to blurt out something stupid like Phil, which could offend Alyatara... Not to blurt out or do... Not even think about leaning towards her lips when she raises her head with a smile to look at my face...

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. And I pinched my arm hard, until it hurt.

It seems to have helped – I began to notice the world around me.

The clatter of thousands of hooves on the cobblestones, music and singing, the hubbub of voices...

And the booming, resonant ringing of bells, spreading over the city.

Where did bells come from, I wondered at one point. I immediately remembered the tall bell tower at the old fire station a mile away, the bell towers above the city hall… And who knows where! There must have been a loudspeaker in the square, connected to a radio, judging by the tinny notes in the ringing.

The fireworks were already flying up in a stream. Sparkling fountains of Roman candles, pops of firecrackers, fiery streaks of rockets... Just like at home.

And then – at some point the city noise seemed to quiet down. Even the fireworks began to fly less frequently. As if Manehattan was frozen in anticipation…

And the bright points of stars in the night sky moved from their place.

They slid towards each other, forming the ligature of Equestrian writing.

"MERRY HEARTH'S WARMING DAY, MY LITTLE PONY!"

The star inscription blurred. It came together again, this time in the silhouette of a New Year tree. With stars instead of balls and nebulae instead of garlands.

It exploded into sparks again and formed into huge starry snowflakes floating over the sparkling city.

I realized that I forgot to breathe. From delight.

No.

Not at all like home.

I looked skeptically at the old brick walls, darkened by soot. Now, however, the soot was barely visible under a thick layer of fir branches, mistletoe, garlands and all that other stuff.

Come on, Zhenyok. Gather all your fragile masculinity and meet the trial face to face.

The station bell rang, followed by the locomotive whistle. The unnatural, mind-boggling, blasphemous hybrid of steampunk and confectionery was approaching. The wheels began to rattle on the rails.

And the chain of giant self-propelled cakes stopped at the platform.

A stream of ponies poured out of the carriages. In an instant, a small multi-colored crowd with elements of murmuration formed. I didn't know the carriage number, so I stood with my hands behind my back at the very beginning of the platform and watched the ponies. Trying not to attract unnecessary attention to myself (not that I was able to do it).

“Evgeniy!”

And the next second I didn't care about the ponies looking at me sideways.

Because she were hanging on my neck.

Alas, I didn't manage to catch the unicorn in a dramatic manner - I staggered shamefully and almost fell off my feet. Mainly because, in addition to the light Alyatara, two more saddlebags almost as heavy as her crashed into me.

“Oh.”

“Hello. Oh.”

“Did I hurt you?”

I laughed.

“Give it here.”

“Leave me one!”

“So that we both get twisted?”

“Hm. That makes sense,” Alyatara glanced critically at her luggage. “Okay, but I'm carrying half the way!”

After another check with the application of magic ointment to our hands (feet), we went out to the passage between the train station and the metro station, rode a couple of stops and got out on the escalator. The frost was noticeable - well, at least by Equestrian standards, and Alyatara wrapped herself in a warm red-green scarf. Although in fact, it was probably two or three degrees, but in the humid sea climate they felt like all ten.

Flags with outspread purple alicorn fluttered over rooftops and porches. Ice alicorns and simple ponies seemed to decorate every crossroad. Flags and garlands stretched from house to house, rising above passing carriages.

“What do you have there?” I asked the unicorn, glancing at the bags.

“It’s a secret,” she laughed loudly.

“Ah, I see. By the way, I gave Bronze and Remy your portraits, and they sent a big thank you. And here, take this,” I fished my wallet out of my pocket (with some difficulty - the bags hanging on my shoulders were in the way) and gave Alyatara the bill.

She ran her gaze over the lines.

“Hmm... I knew that sales would increase on the eve of the holiday, but not that much... Or... Evgeniy!” the unicorn stopped and measured me with her gaze.

I smiled guiltily.

“What did I say about profits from paintings?”

“So, listen! What has that got to do with us? It was you who had to be given coffee to drink!”

“I sell them in a shop that is equipped by common efforts! Where ponies come because we paid for the ads from common money!”

“In the newspaper you negotiated with, under the sign you drew?”

“Evgeniy! This is not fair!”

I just threw up my hands. We continued walking in silence while Alyatara sulked.

It lasted for about fifty meters.

“Evgeniy.”

“Ouch?”

“I'll take half, the other half goes to the general account.”

“Technically speaking, they're already in the general account. You can just not to cash them out if you don't want.”

The unicorn snorted and nudged me lightly in the thigh. I wanted to pat her on the withers, but I didn't dare do it in public.

Getting hold of cooked sausage was actually not that difficult. There were plenty of griffins and other predatory sentient beings in the port area of Manehattan, and there were a couple of stalls specializing in meat products. I did not find out how they got the goods, it was unlikely that they kept pigs for slaughter somewhere near the city, more likely they brought in carcasses in closed barrels under spells so as not to shock the ponies. One way or another, they found a stick of sausage.

Not particularly similar to what I'm used to, though - more fibrous, with meaty veins, a subtle lemon-honey flavor. But I decided that the salad wouldn't get much worse from that.

As for eggs, vegetables and mayonnaise, they were not at all difficult to obtain at the city market.

The knife clattered on the board. Alyatara, who was mixing pancake batter, poked her curious face over my shoulder.

“Listen,” I asked her. “Can you have that much meat?” – nodding at the pile of sausage in the bowl.

The pony chuckled.

“It's all right. We digest meat easily, if in small quantities. Especially pegasi, but such a portion won't threat to me, especially just once. You better watch your diet yourself!”

I nodded. Alyatara's advice was sound.

I once inadvertently tried a salad with one of the pony's herbal dressings - either timothy or alfalfa. The effect was... let's say, shitty in every sense, in general, I didn't want to repeat it, especially - to remember it before a gala dinner. But since then I have reread the Committee brochure given to me at registration much more carefully, especially the section "Food compatibility".

The dough sizzled on the hot frying pan. I couldn't help but admire Alyatara's smooth movements - wait a second, a flash of telekinesis - and the pancake flies up into the air, flips over and plops down on the other side. Yes, it must be convenient to flip pancakes without touching them.

It was getting dark outside. We all sneaked out of work early today, asking Steele and Remy to take our place. It didn't do much harm to trade - it was a post-holiday lull, and ponies showed up at the shop once or twice a day.

A stack of pancakes was growing on the plate, I finished the salad and put the bowl in the fridge, to go with the cake and herring. Sparkling wine, of the same origin as the sausage, was cooling there too.

“I think that's all?” the unicorn covered the dish with magic, looked at it critically and, sighing, grabbed it with her hoof. I strained myself, dragged the table into the room and covered it with a tablecloth.

Soon the salads and pancakes, along with the plates and spoons, migrated to the table. We placed on the book table a rather unfestive jar with fir branches placed in it, which we jointly decorated with five balls, a glowing multi-colored crystal, and a figurine of the Princess of Friendship. And plopped down on the sofa.

“Well?” the unicorn reached for the bag that she had put away in the corner a couple of days ago, strictly forbidding me to look inside. “Shall we open gifts?”

"Okay, wait," I knelt down, pulling my package out from under the couch. I unwrapped the layer of wrapping paper over the gift box.

The pony smiled and held out the gift.

“Happy New Year.”

The unicorn tore the packaging with her teeth.

“You are wonderful!”

She yanked the lid open and stared at the rows of glass jars. She grabbed one with telekinesis.

“This is... A real Komon wolfenscoite! And Mistmane dragonblood! Evgeniy, where did you get them?!”

I grinned smugly.

“Know where you go,” in fact, I looked behind the scenes to the troupe of Agathe for old times' sake, and chatted for about ten minutes with the decorator. And received the address of the shop for artists, where she was shopping. From which I was sent to the next one, where they helped me decide on a gift.

“Well,” the pony put the paints on the table and picked up her bag. “Happy Hearth’s Warming Day!”

I rustled the paper. It seemed that there was something big inside, but light, oblong…

“Wow,” I stared at the insulated tarpaulin boots, exactly my size. Decorated with metal heels, straps and spurs, like a Marlboro cowboy.

“How do you like it?”

“Super!” I pulled one boot on my foot and made sure it fit like a glove. “How do you know my size?”

“Trade secret!”

I looked at the spurs again... Man, I bet they weren't made by a pony!

“Where did you get them anyway?”

Alyatara looked down charmingly.

“Well... I spent a day going to Canterlot. There's a small shop there that sells goods for humans that are hard to get in Equestria.”

"Probably meat," I thought, but decided not to elaborate. Nor to explain what those star-shaped wheels on the heels were for. The boots were cool, either way.

“I adore you. I'm really tired of wearing these half-valenki.”

Instead of answering, the unicorn hugged me tightly. I carefully ran my hand over her silky mane, touched her ears... so, Zhenyok, stop...

“And I brought something else from Canterlot,” Alyatara said, purring like a big cat. She freed herself from my embrace, skipped to the locker, and pulled out a large cardboard box.

“Caf you helf fe ofen?”

Wow.

This is the last time I saw radios like this... I've never seen anything like this anywhere.

A heavy varnished wooden case, massive fabric-covered speakers, a bronze card with an arrow under a convex glass in the middle. Not very clear abbreviations and numbers were applied to the disk. Several rotary verniers were located just below the disk.

"Can you set it up?" Alyatara asked, hope in her eyes. "I mean, this is human technology."

Oops.

I think I now understand what my grandmother felt when she was shown a smartphone. Only, so to speak, in a chrono-inverted order.

“How can I explain... In general, on Earth such things went out of use about fifty years before our time.”

The pony's ears drooped sadly.

“So we’ll have to use trial and error!” I quickly finished.

Surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to master the archeotech. Following the instructions, I inserted the lead-bar-like batteries into the slot under the back cover and clicked the switch. I waited until the light on the panel turned green and the speakers began to rustle. I started to turn the verniers, making the needle rotate.

For a while we heard only static, now softer, now louder. Once an irritated voice broke through: “… Nineteenth to Second, carriages gathering at Forty-Eighth and Kiger Streets, come in! Nineteenth…” Then there was more noise – and suddenly, with another turn of the handle, the following burst into the apartment:

“... are you planning on doing in the new year, Cheese?”

“The same thing we do every night, Pinkie. TRY TO MAKE LAUGH THE WORLD!!”

“Oh, seriously? Wait-wait-wait, did I say "seriously"? Oh-oh-oh, this is okie-doki-loki-nonawecoolsome! Cheese, check right now if the aliens have taken me over this morning, because if they have, then I'm not Pinkie, and if I'm not Pinkie, then there's no one to host our show tonight! And that means Equestria will be entering the new year without the last Radio Party of the year! Cheese... Cheese... Promise me you won't let that happen! For our children, Cheese!»

“Well, right now. You're pink - check. You're curled - check. You're jumping - check. You're definitely a real Pinkie, which means Equestria can celebrate in peace.”

“Wait, what is this? A list? You have a list and you check points off? Twilight, take off the illusion and tell me, your friend, what did you do with the real Cheese?”

Alyatara giggled quietly in her hoof. I smiled too, not even because the unknown DJ's joke seemed funny.

I just got into the festive mood.

“So, our plans for next year are to make all of Equestria laugh, because now, with our Radio Party, all of Equestria can finally take part in our parties! Do you agree, Cheese?”

“What about those who don’t have a radio?”

“Who don't have a radio? Come on! Remember before Hearth's Day, we asked everypony at the end of the show to write to us if they listened to our show? Well, not one letter we got said "I don't have a radio"!”

This time I giggled too. I wonder how many more old jokes have somehow magically crossed the line between worlds?

“And now, everypony, let's listen to the composition "To the Moon" by the famous band "Ponies at Dawn". Well, Pinkie and I will continue our New Year's Super Party after a short rest! Party on Radio Everhoof - stay on our frequency!”

The sounds of violin and piano poured out of the speaker. I grunted, lifting the radio and placing it on the top shelf. I didn't risk putting it on the table, afraid that it wouldn't hold the weight.

By that time we were hungry. The salads had not yet warmed up, but the pancakes had to be put in the oven. However, the delay was short-lived, and after a while they were back on the table.

Alyatara scooped up a spoonful of sour cream and a spoonful of blueberry jam, spreading it on the pancake and rolling it into a tube. She looked thoughtfully at the result.

“It’s not really a pancake flag anymore,” she said. “At least it’s an old-fashioned pancake flag. But to keep the tradition… Or to create a new one? Well, we’d have to take… I don’t even know. Aronia jam? Or sunberry?”

I raised an eyebrow. Silently – because I was cosplaying Gogol's Patsyuk. Only instead of a varenyk a second pancake flew into my mouth.

“Mmm,” Alyatara chewed her pancake. “Listen, I don't think Her Highness will be angry with us if I eat pancakes according to the old customs! They are too delicious! By the way, how do you like Mom's jam?

“Excellent,” I said honestly.

We finished the pancakes and gave the salads their due. Alyatara appreciated the Olivier, and also praised the herring under a fur coat, although I'm afraid it was out of politeness - I did something wrong, either undercooked the beetroot or chose the wrong fish. In short, we put the bowl with the uneaten salad in the refrigerator. We got out the tangerines.

A familiar mixture of pine and citrus scents… The shimmer of a crystal in a spruce tree… Quiet music from the speakers…

Now it really feels like home.

Muffled pops of firecrackers, laughter and stomping could be heard from the neighboring apartments, although the merriment did not reach the same scale as on the first festive night. Fireworks flew up over the roofs occasionally, and the glow of the lights also died down.

But we had lights too – and we didn’t even have to look for them for very long. The light went out, sparks hissed and flew away. The unicorn, laughing, tried to snatch the sparkler from my hand, I raised it higher, then she grabbed the second one and brought it close to mine. In a spray of sparks, in the semi-darkness, I allowed myself to openly admire her joyful smile, her swift movements, her huge eyes… stop, stop, stop…

The clock hand had almost reached midnight. I looked away with difficulty and took a bottle out of the refrigerator. I unwound the wires on the neck. Alyatara took out the glasses.

“Usually at this time we listen to the congratulations of the head of state,” I told her. “And you don’t have such a tradition?”

“The princess addresses the people on Hearth’s Night,” the pony shook her bangs. “I don’t think she’ll repeat the address for us, even if we decided to celebrate later.”

“Well, okay,” we both looked at the minute hand. There was no sign of the chimes or bells ringing, but we froze anyway, huddling together and looking at the clock. As if, like in childhood, we were waiting for something wonderful.

The hands touched midnight.

The cork popped.

The sparkling wine hissed.

“We say, ‘with New Year, with new happiness,’” I whispered to Alyatara.

“With New Year,” she repeated quietly. “With new happiness.”

The aquamarine head snuggle my shoulder. I reached to put the glass down, half-turned, looked at the unicorn throwing her front legs back at me, and put my arm around her shoulders. I smiled, and her face lit up with a smile too. I wanted to say something, but instead leaned closer.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

What am I doing?

What is she doing?

Because…

The taste of wine on the lips. Another, different sensation under the lips and tongue. From the lips of Alyatara, who was leaning forward.

What…

Who of us has gone crazy?

Who cares?

I finally found the strength to break away. Or did I run out of air in my lungs?

I looked at Aljatara.

“Are we sure we're not doing anything wrong?”

“I have no idea,” she breathed out. And, wrapping her pastern around my neck, she pulled me to her.

The hands found a will of their own. They slid along the back, feeling the flexible, strong body move beneath them. The fingers lightly touched the base of the tail, slid to the cutie mark - Alyatara visibly shuddered. They dove into the soft fur on the tummy, lingered...

The light from the fir tree lantern reflected in her eyes.

“Yes,” she breathed very quietly into my ear. “Yes.”

Delicate soft bumps under the palm… A damp shuddering warmth, different, unlike, somewhere wider, somewhere stronger… A quiet cry. The shirt that is pulled off me by hooves. A flapping tail, touching… Alyatara wriggles, awkwardly trying to give me space on the sofa and lie down on her side…

When I come in her, she did not scream – she only jerked her whole body, biting the pillow. I froze, and felt movement towards. Now there was a groan, short, sharp, more, more. It was awkward, strange, wonderful. I buried my face in the blue strands, moved my palm slightly down and to the side… Alyatara arched, gasped, the horn flared…

“Evgeniy!!!”

“Aly...!!!”

…

Blue-green sparks hissed quietly on the pillow.

…

I woke up suddenly, with a jerk, as if I had emerged from great depths. I opened my eyes.

It was pitch black all around. Even the magic crystal must have been discharged. Alyatara was breathing quietly under my hand.

Slowly, trying not to disturb her, I removed my hand. I moved away and sat on the sofa.

I straightened up and walked to the window.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.

What am I doing?

What am I doing here in this world?

Among alien creatures. Far from all humanity, except for a handful of madmen.

Am I trying unsuccessfully to pretend to be one of the locals?

I clenched my teeth, trying not to groan.

A rustling sound behind me.

Quiet tapping on the parquet.

Warm touch.

“Evgeniy? Is everything okay?”

I slowly turned around and looked at Alyatara.

I knelt even more slowly and held her in my arms.

“You’re amazing,” I whispered into her trembling ear. “I’m sorry. It’s… a severe attack of homesickness. You’re wonderful. It’ll pass in a moment.”

Instead of answering, Alyatara leaned forward and hugged me tightly, snuggle her muzzle into my shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered quietly. “Tomorrow will be a new year and a new day. Tomorrow… Everything will be tomorrow.”

New Year

A brown pegasus with a dark red mane and a mark in the form of a thundercloud examined the stylomech thoughtfully.

“We’re satisfied with the quality,” he said. “So, seventy-five bits apiece?”

“Yes, mister,” Yev’eni nodded.

“From what volume can we expect a discount?”

“If you order a batch of two hundred pieces, we’ll lower it to seventy”

Cloud Wing chuckled.

“For now we need about forty. Later... well, we'll see. And recharging the refills, of course.”

Yev'eni shook his head.

“We will provide refilling, but the ink is more caustic than standard. After the second refilling, we do not guarantee the quality of writing. What to do, it’s the downside of frost resistance.”

“This suits us for now, Mr. Komarov. There is one more question...”

“Yes?”

“How much will it cost to put the weather team symbols on products?”

Yev'eni flashed a smile.

“We usually charge twenty bits extra for this service. But given the volume of the order, we are ready to make a discount of up to fifteen.”

“How about ten?”

“Twelve - and we'll shake hands. Or rather, hooves, Cloud.”

“Excellent. How soon can you prepare the batch?”

“On Wednesday,” Yev’eni said confidently.

Pegasus nodded. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out two scrolls of parchment.

“Here is a standard supply contract form. Take a look, if everything is ok, we can sign the documents right now.”

The human unrolled the scroll and began reading. Every now and then a wrinkle would appear on his forehead. Cloud Wing waited patiently.

Yev'eni handed both documents to me.

“Stargaze, will you take a look?”

I shrugged.

“Why? You've already checked everything.”

Cloud Wing secured the scroll to the clipboard. He opened the stylomech and wrote a few lines on the forms. He handed the clipboard to Yev'eni.

“Check that the price and including of the product are indicated correctly, enter the details and sign. Do you have the letters of authority with you?”

“Of course,” Yev’eni glanced at the lines and handed the document to me. I wrote “Stilomehs of Stargaze,” the address, the registration numbers of the sheet and the agreement, and signed. Yev’eni’s sweeping signature followed mine onto the parchment. The procedure was repeated with the second form.

"Well, now let's move on to the specifications," the pegasus said. I suppressed a yawn.

Get used to it, Stargaze. You're no longer a hired artist, but a grown-up, responsible business pony. Boring paperworks and contracts are now part of your job!

While Cloud and Yev'eni were hunched over the scrolls, discussing the details of the delivery, I stole a glance out the window. The weather team building was eighteen stories tall, and the view from here was spectacular! Here, in the eastern part of Manehattan, there were mostly factories and plants, and a whole forest of pipes stretched towards the sky. Beyond it I see the treetops of the coastal park. And beyond - beyond the black branches - the surface of the Celestia Sea sparkled brightly in the sun.

“Well, that’s all,” I heard Yev’eni’s voice. “On Wednesday you can send Mr. Hoof for the goods.”

“Excellent. Here is a bill for the advance payment. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Komarov.”

“It’s nice to start the new year with a deal with a client like you,” the human stood up from the table and bowed ceremoniously. I followed his example.

We passed the half-open doors of the weather headquarters - I glanced curiously at the map of Manehattan with some mysterious markings hanging on the far wall, and three pegasi in flight uniforms, heatedly discussing something next to it. We went down in the elevator to the first floor and the cafeteria. I sniffed the tempting smell of hot donuts... And lashed myself fiercely with my tail, remembering my diet.

Already at the exit, when we passed columns with a bas-relief depicting pegasi maneuvering among the clouds, Yev'eni paused.

“I’ll never get used to it,” he muttered.

“To what?” I followed his gaze. The human was examining a cloud hanging high above the roof of the weather center. If you looked closely, you could make out the masts of weather vanes, anemometers, and some other instruments covering it. In the middle of the cloud, you could see the open gates of the takeoff pad.

“To build on a cloud of fog in fact … Just the sight of it makes me afraid of heights. When I think how all this staff is falling through the cloud and down…”

"I told you," I said, puzzled. "It's special pegasi magic. Cloudsdale is built out of clouds entirely."

“Yes, I remember, Stargaze, I remember... It's just a little strange.”

I looked down the street, trying to see if there was a taxi nearby.

“Well, back to the shop?” Yev'eni wrapped his scarf.

I almost agreed... and cut myself off mid-sentence.

“Listen! Let's do a little weird!”

“Yev'eni raised an eyebrow.”

“What, here on the street? We will bored by advisers.”

“Oh, you!” I blushed to the roots of my mane. I lightly nudged him in the thigh. “I want to say, I still owe you a waterfront walk!”

“And?”

“Let's go to the beach!”

He shook his head.

“In January?”

“Well, we don't have to swim, do we? Let's wander along the sand, look at the sea. Don't you want to take a little break from work?”

“What will Remy and Steel say?” However, Yev’eni also had doubts.

“We're free earlier than we thought, so we can spend hours in good conscience! Besides, the year has only just begun, and there are very few customers in the shop right now. Yev'eni, pleeease!”

He laughed.

“Okay, okay, just don't give me that look. It's a forbidden move, you look so cute it could be considered a weapon of mass destruction!”

“Mr-r,” I moved slightly closer to him and then immediately pulled away.

The east coast was cloudy today, despite the sunny day. The sea was shining brightly in the sun's rays, and white patches of ice were seen far away on the horizon. The tidal flats were also covered with thin and cracked ice. Clouds were piling up far to the east, but the westerly wind kept them away from the coast.

“It’s quiet here,” the human said, looking into the distance. “I’ve gotten so used to the hustle and bustle – both here and at home… It’s nice to get away to a quiet place sometimes. Thanks for the idea, Stargaze.”

I laughed.

“A quiet place? You just haven't been here in the summer. That's when it's packed with ponies.”

Yev'eni smiled too.

“PIROZHKI, BELYASHI GORYACHIE, KUKURUZA, PIVO HOLODNOE!” he suddenly screamed shrilly.

“What?!!”

“That's what tasty traders usually shout on our beaches, calling the public. It's a terrible.”

I snorted.

“No, we don't have that on our beaches. Although... I read Trenderhoof's story about his stay in Burro City, and he wrote that the tamale traders there are just as annoying.”

We walked along the ice strip, not getting close to the water's edge - the ice floes looked slippery even to look at. A cold wind blew, and I wrapped my own scarf tighter, Yev'eni turned up his collar. Seagulls screamed, circling over the water. There was almost no snow, only a few small drifts surrounded the thickets of bushes on the leeward side.

“It would be nice, when things settle down and we can afford to hire salesponies,” I said dreamily, “to go on vacation. Rent a house somewhere on the coast, walk around the sea for days on end, drink hot mulled wine, draw for our own pleasure…”

Yev'eni chuckled.

“Are you sure that if you and I lock in the house alone, we will have time for walks and drawing?”

I stamped my foot indignantly.

“Oh, Sisters! You know, it seems that the stories about human’s horny are not without foundation!”

Human fingers lay on the back of my neck.

“Yes? And last night I didn't notice that you didn't like anything.”

“You know what?” I stopped and turned my face to Yev'eni. I rose up on my hind legs, menacingly pressing my ears.

“What?”

I placed my front hooves on his shoulders and leaned forward.

“I liked it,” I whispered, stretching out to his ear. Feeling his fingers running through my mane. “A lot.”

We only let go of each other after about three minutes. I took a breath, smoothing my disheveled hair.

“Is no one looking at us?” I looked around. Fortunately, the landscape was as blank as it had been at the beginning of the walk. Only a lone dot of pegasus was circling in the sky a couple of miles away.

"And is that forbidden in your country?" Yev'eni asked curiously. "I mean... well, relationships with non-ponies."

I chuckled.

“A hundred or two hundred years ago, this was looked at askance. But views have changed, now =it is condemned only in the most remote provinces. It's just...”

"Is it just that I'm human?" Yev'eni's voice remained calm. But the hand on my shoulder trembled.

I turned to face him again.

“Stop it! You know perfectly well that I don't care! I, well, I just don't want you to be looked at askance because of these stupid rumors about humans! Don't even think that I'm capable of thinking about you in some wrong way!”

Yev'eni sighed. He dropped to one knee to be level with me.

“I'm sorry, please. I didn't mean to...”

“It’s me who’s sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you either.”

“If you think we shouldn't...”

“We should,” I interrupted him. “We definitely should.”

We froze. I didn't want to ruin the moment... but the scarf that Yev'eni had touched during the previous kiss chose just that moment to come undone and slide down to my feet!

“Ouch!” I shivered, feeling the cold wind tickle my neck. I grabbed it with telekinesis, took it with my teeth and tried to awkwardly throw it back on. Smiling, the human grabbed one end and helped me wrap myself up.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, welcome,” Yev’eni said distractedly. He looked thoughtfully at the sea.

“Beautiful scenery, right?”

“Yes, it's beautiful...” he took a few steps towards the water. He bent down, picking up a shell. He looked closely at the ice chips on the sand.

“The water is rising,” he said.

“Well, yes,” I glanced sideways at the sun in the sky. “The tide is coming in. Really, let's move away, I don't want to get my hooves wet.”

“The tide?” the human asked.

“Well, yes. Do you have tides on Earth? Although you don't have princesses who move the sun and the moon, so there probably shouldn't be tides...”

“We have tides, Stargaze.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. No one moves the Sun and the Moon around the planet because the Earth itself rotates around its axis. I was surprised that you have them...”

I closed my eyes, imagining this picture – the whole world spinning like a top, making a turn in just one day. No, I knew before that the world of human is completely different from ours, and their planet is not located in the center of its system, but rushes in orbit around a colossal fiery Sun, as the Celestial Church taught in ancient times… But now this image – a whole world larger than Equus, rapidly rotating around its axis, and even more rapidly flying around a fiery giant – was so clearly before my eyes… Holy Celestia, my head is spinning!

“Is everything okay?” Yev’eni asked.

“Yes, yes. I was just thinking.”

“So, I'm curious. If your luminaries are moved by a princess with magic, then perhaps the tidal waves should move faster? Well, following the Moon?”

“And the Sun,” I corrected him. “Listen, I don’t know much about astronomy, but I remember what happened when Her Highness was fighting Tirek. The tide came in and out almost instantly, two or three times. It was a big problem for all the coastal settlements, actually. The waves damaged a lot of docks and ships, and others ran aground when the water suddenly went out. No one died only because the princesses warned us in advance. It’s just like you said.”

“Yeah, but...” Yev'eni also looked at the sun. “I suppose the tide should be felt on land too, no? Why don't we feel earthquakes every day or something?”

I laughed.

“Well, that would be very inconvenient, wouldn't it? Look, I really don't know much about this. But if it is, I'm sure the princesses somehow figured it out long ago. After all, Celestia has been moving the sun and moon for over a thousand years!”

“I see, this is very powerful sorccraft...”

“What?”

“It doesn't matter. It's an untranslatable cultural reference, don't pay attention to it.”

I walked up to an old, worn-out beach chair. I brushed the sand off it with my tail. I sat down, stretching out my legs…

And then she jumped up.

“Brrr! Cold!”

Yev'eni sighed.

“Oh, goodbye, my coat… Okay, I’ll clean it later,” he sat down on the bench, stretching out to his full height.

“Get in here.”

“Mrrr, that’s so cute,” I murmured, stretching out on his chest. “Isn’t it hard for you?”

“It’s fine,” Yev’eni pulled the hem of his jacket from under my hooves and tried to cover me with it. The coat, of course, wasn’t wide enough for a human and a pony to boot, and after an unsuccessful attempt he abandoned the idea. Then I slid down to his side, onto the unbuttoned hem, Yev’eni grabbed me and covered me with the other hem on top. I sighed blissfully, feeling the warmth of his chest.

The sun was almost at its zenith, and the air began to warm up a little. Ice chips sway on the waves. The water came very close.

“And yet,” Yev’eni suddenly said.

“Oooo?” I moaned.

“If the sun and moon sweep across the sky every day, shouldn't a tsunami like the one you described happen every day? At least in the lands over which they are dragged?”

I twitched my ears, feeling them brush against the human's chin.

“Can you talk about this while hugging the filly?”

Yev'eni chuckled.

“My curiosity works on all levels, including sexual.”

“Hey! If we do this right here, we definitely have a good chance of getting a fine from the city guard!”

“Yes? Then distract me. Tell me, for example, what actually happens with the tides.”

I craned my neck to look at the ocean splashing ten feet away from us.

“Well, in those places where they are "dragged", as you said, no one lives. That's why they are called "Shadow Seas" - because there is no land there except for a few islands, and it is eternally twilight. And they are very far from here, thousands of miles from Equestria.

“Hmm. That makes sense. It must be very cold there?”

“Yes, it seems that even the sea there is covered with ice floes... But nothing is really known about them. Nopony get there, except for some travelers. These places are not even mapped in detail.”

We fell silent. Yev'eni absentmindedly stroked the fur on my chest. I covered his hand with my hoof. A bold seagull landed on the sand near the neighboring bed, turned its head, examining us with one eye.

“I wonder where this ship is going?” the human asked thoughtfully next to my ear.

I glanced sideways into the distance. Indeed, a tiny ship was seen far out at sea, from such a distance. The sails on two masts were furled, a long ribbon of smoke was coming out of the funnel.

“Trottingham, probably,” I suggested. “You know, I was there once, on a school trip. Did you know that it was the first city founded by ponies in Equestria?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. Long before Hearth's Warming, it was founded by unicorn settlers, when their home village was conquered by Pegasopolis. Then it was taken over by earth ponies, who invaded the Griffish Islands from Prance. Under them, the islands turned into a pirate kingdom, which plundered the coasts "wherever ponies and griffons smell salt water," as one of their sagas said. But soon after defeating Discord, the Sisters brought them under their rule, and since then it has been a quiet and peaceful place. With many museums and very picturesque ruins and monuments.”

Yev'eni whistled.

“It’s hard to believe that you ever had wars here.”

“Once?” I sighed. “The last time Equestria had fight was three years ago. When Princess Luna invaded the Storm Islands.”

“Storm Islands?”

“It's a country far to the southwest of here. Their king conquered and plundered several neighboring kingdoms, and was about to invade Equestria. But the princesses got ahead of him, made an alliance with Abyssinia and the sea ponies, and struck first. Defeating him in battle.”

Yev'eni was silent.

“In my world, this happens all the time.”

“And in ours, something like this hasn't happened for hundreds of years. In Equestria, I mean.”

“I guess there's nothing wrong with preventing an enemy attack.”

“Many did not think so. No, no one would dare to openly argue with the Triarchy's decision... But there were many who were dissatisfied. The ponies said that even if Storm was really preparing an invasion, we should have defended ourselves, but not invaded someone else's land first.”

“It sounds like you agree with that.”

“I don't know, Yev'eni. I guess the princesses know best what's best for Equestria...”

The human sighed and ruffled my mane.

“Okay, let's not talk about your politics. Tell me more about this Nottingham or whatever it's called.”

“Trottingham,” I corrected him. “There are a lot of ancient unicorn towers, earth pony fortresses, very beautiful forests and parks… They showed us the home village of Rockhoof – he is a great hero of the ancient earth ponies – then a reconstructed pirate ship, and we even went out to sea on it – though not further than a few meters from the pier.”

“Maybe we’ll to walk there sometime.” Yev’eni chuckled.

I smiled too.

“You can’t «walk»! There is no land route there, only by sea or air, it’s an island. True, literally a year ago they were going to build a railway bridge across the strait. We just published a big article about this project. At the summit of the cities there was a dispute about where it would be better to build a bridge – to Trottingham or to the Griffin Lands. And there were only enough bits in the treasury for one bridge. In the end, both projects were submitted to the Princess of Friendship, and she approved the northern crossing.”

“Well, then, we'll either swim or fly,” Yev'eni stirred. “Listen, are you cold?”

“A little,” I admitted. “What, are we going back?”

“Let's go. And Steel and Remy are probably already waiting for us. Listen, should we tell them that we were lying on the beach instead of working?”

I twitched my ears.

“That we were lying namely?”

“Well, not in such details...”

“Let's just admit that we decided to take a little walk in our free time. I don't want to lie to my friends, you know!”

Wonderbolt

I leaned my elbows on the counter. Inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee and fresh bun, pleasantly caressing my nose. The coffee, by the way, was not Equestrian but imported, from somewhere in the kingdoms neighboring Equestria, I did not remember the name, although Alyatara mentioned it.

The streets were still morning deserted. Although not dark - twenty minutes ago the sun had risen and was slowly crawling towards its zenith in Equestrian style. A few more minutes - and the streets would be filled with ponies hurrying to work.

I stuffed my mouth with the soft, sweet dough, chewed it and washed it down with scalding hot coffee from a thermos. I unfolded the newspaper I had bought on the way.

My interest in local politics began after my talking with Alyatara on the beach. Well, not exactly interest. It's just that if you're going to spend the rest of your life in a new world, you need to know what's going on within its borders.

The rest of life... No, that's wrong. A new life. Without any rest.

And then what? I have already become convinced that nothing ends with death… Who knows what awaits us, humans, with the end of the Equestrian path? Maybe we will continue to be thrown from life to life, from one strange world to another, ad infinitum, until we forget who we are, where we began this chain of rebirths…

Is our earthly life really the first?

A chill ran down my spine.

I shook my head, fighting off a sudden attack of philosophizing.

No, damn it. There's a thermos of hot coffee, there's a bun that smells of cinnamon and pastry. There's Alyatara's mane tickling my nose when I wake up.

This is reality. Let's think about this, and not fill my heads with existential questions.

I turned my gaze to the title.

"ZEBRICA'S DEMANDS GO BEYOND REASONABLE LIMITS"

"Despite the presence of the Princess of Friendship herself, the summit taking place on the Storm Islands has not yet yielded positive results. The delegation of the Farasian Kingdom continues to refuse constructive dialogue, insisting time and again on absurd, illogical proposals. Unfortunately, it can be stated that the zebras are determined to stand in the way of progress and global pan-Equian cooperation.

Yes, the demand to refute the ridiculous rumors spread by human invaders about Zebrica having some kind of "megaspells" intended for the mass destruction of Equestrian cities is understandable and acceptable. However, the desire to grant zebra merchants unprecedented tax breaks in Equestria, which even our allies do not enjoy, is truly ridiculous.

And the claims regarding a defensive alliance between Abyssinia and Equestria sound even more absurd and can only cause bewilderment. The royal couple of Abyssinia has the right to decide for themselves with which of their neighbors and partners to conclude a mutual defense agreement.

Of course, the fears of the zebras are completely far-fetched. Yes, the conflict between Abyssinia and the Diamond Kingdom has been dragging on, fading and flaring up, for much longer than the confrontation with the yeti that has just recently come to an end, and certain provisions of the treaty can indeed be interpreted as obliging Equestria to enter the war on the Zebrican Continent. But it should be absolutely obvious to any sapient sapient, forgive us for some tautology, that in its entire history Equestria has never sought external expansion. And it is absolutely ridiculous to assume, as the official Zebrat apparently does, that the accession to the Throne of Friendship, the preemptive strike on the Storm Islands, and the transfer of power in Griffonstone, Klugetown, and the Storm Kingdom to the ponies and pony supporters are signs of a rejection of this wise, centuries-tested, peaceful policy!

And is this alliance as strong as the Farasi princes apparently believe? Undoubtedly, the gratitude of the famously responsive and friendly inhabitants of Griffonstone for the return of the ancient relic of their people will remain imprinted for centuries and more than justifies the growing friction with the Arimasp tribes. But most of our readers undoubtedly understand that behind the young king stands the figure of his mentor, Mr. Graff, a historian and public figure well known in the academic circles of Austraeoh. And information about Graff's repeated visits during the so-called "archaeological expeditions" to the territory of Alemane and Zebrica cast doubt on his purely friendly feelings towards Equestria. With his majesty Gallus's hold on many of Griffonland's great packs not as strong as the Department of Friendship would apparently like, and many of them less than loyal to Equestria, will Old Graff one day decide that Zebrica's wealth and power outweigh one ancient idol in the political scales?

Her ladyship's position is even more precarious. She rules over a people who were defeated in bloody battle by her own compatriots only a few years ago. And even her position as one of the deposed king's companions does not make the common yeti see her as a ruler in her own right, rather than a traitor and a puppet of the occupiers. Is it any wonder that under Duchess Tempest, Storm Islands politics has been reduced to skillful (less patriotic individuals might use the word "frenzied") maneuvering between Equestria and Zebrica in an attempt to enlist the help of both sides in negotiations?

However, there is no need to worry in vain, we want to warn our readers. Let us not forget that Her Highness Twilight Sparkle does not bear by chance her title of Princess of Friendship. Before we claim that the rejection of a reasonable policy of non-interference in the affairs of barbarian peoples was premature - let us remember that this title was bestowed upon her by the Sun Princess herself, whose authority protected Equestria from savage raids for ten centuries in a row!

Of course, what some prejudiced readers might consider the formation of a hostile alliance around our borders is only the elements of a well-thought-out plan, which is too subtle and precise to be grasped by our modest reasoning. Sooner or later, the well-thought-out policy of the Throne of Friendship and the Elements of Harmony will be crowned with success. And we will see how our country will lead the peoples of Equus to new heights and achievements."

I yawned. I understood that I didn't understand anything. I had heard some names and titles before, but... You have to read that with a geographic atlas in your hands, for starters.

Keys jingled behind me and I heard Steel’s and Remy's voices talking to each other.

“Hello everypony!”

“Good day, Mr. Komarov!” Steel responded cheerfully. “What are the tasks for today?”

“Everything is the same, turning, filling and assembly. Just don't mix up the all-weather ink, I signed them separately. Remy, I put about twenty named cases in the dryer, keep an eye on them, okay?”

“It will be done!” the ponies responded in chorus.

I returned to reading, keeping one eye on the door.

"ASTRONOMICAL EXPEDITION LEAVES CANTERLOT."

"Two airships equipped with the latest telescopes, radiostations and sympathetic communication artifacts have left the docks of Canterlot. Under the leadership of the professors of the royal observatory Bright Star and Sparkling Night, they will head: one to the middle of the Luna Ocean, the second to the border of Alemane and Komonia.

The main objective of the expedition is to conduct synchronous astronomical observations from remote points of Equus. By measuring stellar parallactic shifts on the sphere of fixed stars, the researchers intend to determine the distance to them for the first time in history. In addition, scientists will engage in natural science, equilogical and ethnographic research in the lands they will cross.

Interest in this bold experiment is especially great in connection with the recent dissemination in the press of the marginal hypothesis of "infinitely distant suns." Let us recall that its supporters claim that the set of fixed stars in the sky of Equus is nothing more than accumulations of hot gas, the alchemical reaction of solar combustion in which is maintained without the involvement of supernatural forces, solely due to the colossal internal pressures and temperatures in the depths of giant gas balls, which seem to us to be those of the heavenly stars that are not subject to magical movement across the sky.

Of course, readers of our publication who are not strangers to natural philosophy have already realized that this hypothesis smacks of the ravings of a madpony. All calculations of the School of Gifted Unicorns show that even if the said reaction were possible, the volume of gas required for its ignition would significantly exceed the entire Equian system in size, and tens of thousands of times in mass! But even if we assume that such gigantic volumes of matter can exist in the Universe, the distance from which they would look like star-like points, and not miniature disks, is absurdly large. We will even refrain from citing these figures in our respected publication, so that a long tail of zeros does not take up several of the following lines.

As for the rumors being circulated by some Canterlot journalists that this is supposedly how the Sun is done in the human world, and what's more, that human civilization has reproduced the said reaction to create the most deadly weapon of their world, concentrated solar flame, we won't even bother to comment on them.

"And we would like to ask, together with our esteemed readers, who benefits from the dissemination of these absurd statements? Who is interested in giving a false importance to a handful of human settlers? Who would like to covertly cast a shadow on the sun itself, gradually leading the citizens of Manehattan to the idea that its light can be equated with a deadly poisonous flame with impunity? Enough equivocation, let's ask directly - who would want to discredit the name of Princess Celestia? Perhaps the Department of Friendship should look for answers to these questions, and not seek out mythical Hive spies and enemies of Harmony among honest ponies?"

I restrained the VHS with an effort of will.

The only thing I understood is that someone really wants to use the fact of human’s appearing in local political games. Eh.

And here is politics, motherfuckers...

The front door swung open, and a whirlwind of aquamarine rushed into the shop, spreading the scent of coffee and fresh chamomile donuts.

“Evgeniy!”

“Hello, hello,” I stood up, carefully checked to make sure we weren’t visible from the work areas, and quickly kissed Alyatara on the lips.

“Why are you up so early today?” she asked, hanging her scarf on the coat rack.

“Yes, I wanted to varnish the personalized batch since yesterday and forgot. And the first customers should come for them in the evening.”

“A-a-a, I see. Well, okay, I'll go do coloring. Steel! Are the blanks ready?”

"Since yesterday!" the earth pony responded through the buzzing of his incisor.

The door opened again.

“The Stylomechs of Alyatara welcome you, filly!”

The golden pegasus who entered the shop measured me with her gaze.

She was dressed in something like a uniform dark blue jacket, with an adjustment for a pony cut. On the lapel of the fur collar were pinned badges in the shape of silver wings. The shoulders were crowned with epaulettes with a large silver horseshoe. On the chest, half hidden from view, were stripes in the shape of a golden lightning bolt and something like medal straps. The cutie mark, not hidden by the short jacket, seemed to depict a tongue of flame.

"Human Komarov from Stylomechs of Alyatara?" she asked. Her voice was low for a pony, sharp and demanding.

“Exactly,” I bowed slightly. “It’s nice to see our small business becoming known in Manehattan.”

The mare's gaze ran over the stylomechs displayed on the display case.

"I saw one of those stuff last week at the weather brigade commander's of Manehattan," she said. "How much does it cost?"

“It’s just…” I fell silent, feeling a light push on my shoulder.

“For you, it’s free, Lieutenant Colonel,” Aliatara said firmly.

Pegasus shook her head.

“I can't accept such expensive gifts, pony.”

Alyatara stepped out from behind the counter.

“Ma'am, in that case, allow me to make you a deal. The Stylomechs of Alyatara are willing to offer you this stylomech, and in exchange, you allow us to write on this sign "Wonderbolt’s Supplier."

Something resembling a smile appeared on the pegasus's face.

“You should talk to my deputy chief of logistics. Do you have business cards?”

"Of course, Lieutenant Colonel," Alyatara snatched one from its holder and handed it to the pegasus. She grabbed it with her hoof and dropped it into her jacket pocket.

"If you'll pay attention," the unicorn said, "we have models for all-weather writing. They continue to write in frosts down to fifteen degrees. And we can also put your unit's insignia on them for free, ma'am."

The pegasus looked thoughtfully at the stylomech.

"Interesting," she said. "I'll have Lieutenant Cavert Feather contact you. How much is this thing worth, anyway?"

“As I said, free for you, ma'am. And if your squadron decides to make a bulk order, twenty bits apiece, including paint.”

"Thank you, pony. But I still insist on payment," the pegasus put the coins on the counter with a decisive movement.

“It is an honor for us to serve the heroes of Equestria,” Alyatara bowed.

“Goodbye, pony.”

I turned my gaze from the closed door to Alyatara.

“Do you know her?”

“Do I know her? - Alyatara turned her whole body towards me. - Do I know her? This is Spitfire!”

“Spit… who?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Spitfire! Commander of the Wonderbolts! She's a hero of the Storm War and one of the best flyers among the pegasi! She's almost as famous as the Elements of Harmony!”

I shook my head.

“Hm. I see. And yet, twenty bits apiece... Isn't that too cool?”

“Too cool?” Alyatara jumped up. “Evgeny, you have no idea how lucky we are! Might you as well call "too cool" the discount to the princess herself?! If we announce that we are doing business with the Wonderbolts, all of Manehattan will line up to see us!”

“With the Wanderbolts?” I heard an admiring gasp behind me.

Steel's eyes looked the size of the largest cog in his uncle's toolbox. Even his mane seemed to stand on end with excitement.

"Mister, did I hear right?" he asked in a half-whisper. "Did you just say that Spitfire came into our shop?"

Alyatara just nodded.

“I... I... What the muffin?” the earth pony gave himself a hearty slap on the forehead with his hoof.

I just raised an eyebrow. What kind of madness is going on here?

"I twice saved up my breakfast money and went to the Derby!" the pony said, almost with tears in his eyes. "I learned the entire team by heart, main and reserve! I have posters of all the commanders at home, from Firefly to Spitfire herself! And you mean to tell me I missed the chance to ask her for an autograph?"

“Don’t be upset,” Aliatara patted Steel on the shoulder. “I’m sure if we’re lucky enough to sign an official contract with the Wonderbolts, she’ll show up here again.”

Steel responded with a pretty good VHS.

“That's unlikely. I bet she flew here for one day on business, and tomorrow she'll be heading back to the Academy. Or guarding the borders of Equestria. Or patrolling the Storm Islands. Or doing some other Wonderbolt stuff.”

The cello purred softly in time with some wild raver rhythms. Surprisingly, both went well together. Manehattan quietly rustled outside the window, getting ready for sleep.

The tart taste of herbal tea in a thin porcelain cup. The soft weight of Alyatara on my lap.

The unicorn lay along the sofa, her chest and stomach resting on my legs. In front of her, a second cup of tea hovered in a green glow.

My left hand was on her back, and I was lazily scratching Alyatara's withers and scruff. She was squinting blissfully, sipping her tea in small sips.

It was good.

A red light was slowly moving outside the window. It must have been the tail lights of a night airship. The ship was gliding right over the rooftops, skirting the city from the southwest. That meant it was coming from somewhere in Equestria.

Alyatara levitated the cup somewhere on the table. She moved along the sofa, turned over on her back, exposing her belly to my caresses. I smiled. I put the cup right on the floor, freeing my other hand, and my touches became more insistent…

“Mr-r-r-m,” the pony muttered, closing her eyes. “I’ll completely forget about drawing with you…”

“A good sleep and good sex are better for your health,” I said instructively.

Alyatara giggled.

“I have never heard of a pony whose special talent was sound sleep. Not to mention…”

I imagined the picture of this cutiemark. And I couldn't help but snort too.

It’s a good thing the cup was already on the floor – otherwise I would have splashed not only the sofa, but also Alyatara.

I shifted my position slightly, feeling my legs starting to go numb (I need to get into the habit of doing morning exercises again! With this sedentary job, I'll soon grow a belly and seducing a pony won't be so easy!). The sofa rocked, resting against the edge of the table. With a light rustle, a letter which Alyatara had taken out of the mailbox that evening flew off.

“Oh my! I forgot about it!”

“Forget it until tomorrow,” I whispered to her. “It’s probably some piece of paper from the weather crew.”

“Probably,” the envelope lit up, slid across the floor towards us and soared up to Alyatara’s eyes.

She read the address carefully and suddenly sat up abruptly.

“What's wrong?..”

“This is from New Haysey,” she said, turning the envelope so that the postmark was seeing me. “From mine.”

The paper rustled as it was torn. Alyatara bent over the letter.

“Everything okay?” I asked. I could have looked over her shoulder, I could read Equestrian pretty well, but still – someone else’s correspondence, and family at that…

“ Mmm …” she muttered vaguely. She cast a narrowed glance at the switch, lit up the horn – but apparently it was too far for her telekinesis skill.

I winced, got up from the sofa and turned on the lamp.

“Thank you,” the pony said absently, her face looking thoughtful and tense.

Finally she finished reading. She returned the letter to the table, still with the same uncertain expression.

“So what do they write?” I asked, moving closer to her and hugging her shoulders.

Alyatara was silent.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just…”

“Well?”

Now her face looked guilty.

“Anyway, Mom wants to know what my plans are for Hearts and Hooves Day. And if I want to come visit them again.”

“Hearts and Hooves Day? That's your version of Lover's Day, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What's the catch?”

The unicorn sighed.

“If I refuse, she will definitely decide that you and I are not just neighbors and companions. And if I go, we will not be able to spend it together.”

“And they…” I began, perplexed.

Alyatara raised her pitiful eyes to me.

“I accidentally blurted out that we work together and rent an apartment. Well, and... It seems to me that my mother suspected something. Even though at that moment there was nothing to suspect!”

I chuckled.

“Oh, come on, whatever. Go ahead, especially if it's for just a day or two. We'll manage.”

She rose indignantly.

“Firstly, you will have another wave of sales on the holiday, and I will let you down! And secondly, by the way, I also want to celebrate Hearts and Hooves Day with my very special somehuman!”

I smiled, looking into her eyes.

“That's so nice to hear.”

“Thank you,” she muttered. “But that doesn’t solve the problem.”

“Oh well. We'll celebrate later. Like back then, on New Year's.”

The pony grinned.

“Just like then?”

My hand slid down her furry back.

“Just like then, nothing is stopping us now…”

M-r-r, - Alyatara leaned towards me. The kiss did not stop for a long time. But when I was ready to move from words to deeds, she pulled away.

"It's still somehow unfair to the guys. And I wanted to celebrate the holiday with you," she said sadly.

I chuckled.

“Well, if you want, I’ll go with you myself,” escaped my lips.

And only when Alyatara’s eyes widened I realize that I had said too much.

“You... I... You really...”

“I... Well, listen, generally speaking...”

We looked at each other and laughed. As it happened, we both now had the same stupid - and confused - look.

The unicorn snuggled up to me.

“Are you serious?” she asked quietly. “You know, well... Celestia knows, I don't want to say that you're an episode for me or anything... But you know, when you go to a family reunion together, it's serious! We... well, don't we just go too far right off the bat? What do you think?”

I chuckled.

“Do they even know that I’m human?”

Alyatara sighed.

“Just not a pony.”

“That doesn't make it any better.

Ah, hay, we’ll figure it out.”

“We'll figure it out, of course,” Alyatara responded, and I realized that I'd said the last phrase out loud. “Oh, listen! I'll just write back that we have a ton of work on Hearts and Hooves Day! That's the honest truth, by the way!”

Smiling, I stroked her horn with my finger.

“Cunning.”

Alyatara shuddered.

“What is it?” I pulled my hand away.

She opened her eyes slightly.

“You didn't know?”

“About what?”

She blushed slightly.

“Give me your ear! The horn of a unicorn is...” she switched to a whisper.

I found myself smiling widely.

“Is that so?” I said slowly, leaning towards her face. “I think I should check this out…”

Weather Pegasus

The sea wind ruffled my mane and cheekily tugged at my tail. The Flea Market may have been a block away from the embankment, but the sea breeze reached here too!

I glanced sideways at Yev'eni. He was looking at the counters with interest and not paying attention to the bad weather.

Just now we passed by a shop with some cosmetic lotions. Clay bottles, dark glass flasks, bronze bowls, silver jugs with long spouts looked very exotic. As if they had come from the pages of an adventure novel, something like "Daring Do and the Treasure of Sphinxes" or "Daring Do and the Secret of Desert"

Remy followed my gaze and smirked.

"All this stuff is bottled in Baltimare, on Small Airnought Avenue," she said. "You might as well go into Est Laud’s shop and get it for half the price."

“Seriously?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Surely.”

“Let's check!” I stopped.

The salespony, a grey-green earth stallion, darted forward.

"What do the lovely fillies wish for?" he blurted out. "Take a look at this ginger nutmeg from Somnambula, made from the Bastet's own recipes! And how about trying this Maretan shampoo with flash-bee glue? Or perhaps..."

“No, no, no!” I cut him off. “My friend and I were just arguing... Tell me, where did you get these goods? Are they Equestrian, or are they really foreign?”

The seller spread his front legs.

“Lady, I won't lie, I didn't sail for them, but I bought them with my own hooves from merchants from the East!” He grabbed the jug.

“This ointment was sold to me in the port by the venerable Al Flam from the ship "Wise Hamdani"! And this hoof balm I bought from Amenflimnet, the trader, who fell behind the Somnambula caravan! And this...”

A slight cough was heard behind me.

The seller turned his eyes to its source.

He swallowed and stepped back.

"So you trade in oriental goods?" Yev'eni asked kindly. "You know, perhaps an experienced trader like you could help me. You know what my species is called, right?"

“Y-yes, sir,” muttered the poor shopkeeper.

“Such a good merchant must know places where you can get forbidden things,” Yev’eni lowered his voice.

“I... sir...”

“You know that we humans eat meat, right?” Yev'eni said very unctuously. “You know, sometimes it gets so boring to make do with fish... You just want to bite into a fragrant, steaming, well-fried piece of steak... Beef, pork, even horse!” He smiled broadly, showing his teeth. Behind his back, Remy was openly giggling.

“I... sir... have no idea... sir... Sorry, I just remembered that I was going to close the shop for today!!!”

It seemed that the merchant, despite being an earth pony, had the gift of teleportation - he disappeared into thin air so quickly, leaving the potions and ointments he praised so much.

I snorted unfailingly at the human, trying to hold back my own laughter.

“So! What was that?”

Yev'eni spread his hands, now smiling true, not grinning.

“Well, excuse me. You know, I can tell a professional swindler by his tone. Well, I wanted to have some fun. Or were you really going to buy something?”

“Actually, no... Listen, you can get sent to a camp for jokes like that! Haven't you forgotten?”

“For what? I didn't really ask anything illegal. Meat is sold here, in a griffonian cuisine shops and so on. Damn, remember when I bought sausage?”

Remy coughed.

“Come on, people! We need to get quickly before poor Steel goes crazy from working alone! And we still haven't found the dyes!”

I quickened my pace guiltily. Indeed, we had signed up (we were co-opted, okay, okay!) to help Remy as a draft power, and not to choose cosmetics, especially of unknown origin and quality!

Remi was a couple of lengths ahead of us, and by the time we caught up with her, she had already entered a small closed pavilion at the far end of the market, topped with a sign with a barrel and a flask.

The door creaked.

“... Alemanian or from Turn Bull?” I heard a fragment of Remy's phrase.

The salespony, a light red earth pony with green hair and streaks of gray in her mane, sighed.

“You can't find an original one these days. Wait a couple of days, they say a Pindos ship with a load of paints should arrive at the port. Or take an iron one, they say it's no worse.”

Remy sighed.

“It's has wrong lightfastness, and it dries slower. For drawing, maybe there's no difference, but for us, it is. Okay, I'll take a bottle to try.”

“Whose ship?” Yev’eni asked at the same time as her, his eyes widening.

The salesmare turned her gaze to him. However, she did not become frightened or flinch – she only raised an eyebrow.

“Pindosian,” she repeated. “I don’t know the name, really. So what?”

“Eh… no, nothing,” he pulled himself together. “Stargaze?”

He called out to me because I was enthusiastically studying the side shelf with glass vials.

“Wait a second! Mare, tell me, is this damar on turpentine or pinene?” I poked my hoof into one of the vials.

“On pinene,” the salespony emerged from behind the counter. She unscrewed the tight lid and with a light movement of her hoof directed the air in my direction. The familiar resinous smell tickled my nostrils.

“I'll take it. How much?”

“Eight bits.”

Remi was already stamping her hoof angrily. I sent her an excuse look, shoved the bottle of varnish into the saddlebag and rushed after the human. Who was already holding the door, waiting for us.

Once again, the bright rows of stalls, the multi-colored bricks of the buildings on one side, the dense greenery of the park on the other. Remy glanced around the market.

“I don’t think there’s any point in wandering any further,” she said. “Time is running out, and if we haven’t found anything in three shops, we’re unlikely to find anything anywhere else.”

"Then what do we fill the stylomechs with?" Yev'eni asked worriedly.

“I'll check back with the suppliers in a couple of days. If they really do get some in the next few days, they should set aside a couple of gallons for me. We should have enough stock until then.”

“And if not?”

Remy sighed.

“Then we'll have to get the Manehattan dye and make a trial batch. Okay, I'll drop in on Dry Quarta tomorrow and ask her to keep me informed about the supply situation.”

We wandered along the market, no longer looking at the stalls so closely. There was no hustle and bustle today, on a weekday – it was crowded here on the weekend. Even the sellers praised their goods without much enthusiasm.

Yev'eni looked at Remy.

“Listen, one more time. What's the name of the ship they're waiting for?”

"How should I know?" the earth pony chuckled. "The main thing for me is whether they'll bring the right goods or not, and the name is a secondary matter, as far as I'm concerned."

“No, no... Where did you say she was from?”

“From Prance, I think. Or from Pindosia. And not me, but that pony. I don't remember exactly, why?”

“Pindosia?”

“I think so. Why?”

I had already learned to recognize this heavy sigh. It was heard when the earthling met yet another “familiar-here-very-strange-for-Earth” thing.

“What is Pindosia?”

"Some village east of Equestria. Or south. I don't really remember," Remy answered. "Equiography wasn't my favorite subject at school."

"A settlement of pegasi on the southeastern coast of Minos," I corrected her. "It was founded by pegasi who had a falling out with their kin from Pegasopolis. Either before the Hearth, or right after. I don't remember the details either."

“Why are you suddenly so interested in it?” Remy asked curiously.

“Well, you see, on Earth...” Yev'eni froze in his tracks. Looking somewhere towards the exit from the market.

“What I gonna…” he muttered. Jumping up from his place, he headed off with wide strides towards the game pavilion, around which several foals were crowded.

Remy watched him go.

It's probably a good she's not a unicorn! Even if she were a poor magician, the back of a human's jacket would already be smoking!

The tail lashed savagely across her rump.

“Okay, ponies and humans, I've had enough! We came here on business, and one of us is staring at the incense counter, and the other one suddenly decides it's time to play a game for foals! Stargaze, I'm going to help Steel before he decides to quit out of desperation! And when you drag our friend out of the market by the tail, tell him that this is not friendly!”

“Excuse me, please,” I muttered, already breaking into a trot after the human. What had really gotten into him?

When I caught up with Yev'eni, he was already standing next to the game machine, looking over the shoulder of the light-chestnut stallion. Who, in turn, was so engrossed in the game that he did not notice the appearance of a human. His companions, seeing our couple, squeaked in fear and scattered to the sides. However, they did not disappear completely, clearly not daring to abandon their comrade to be torn apart by an alien monster.

The purple box made a loud ringing sound, and the picture on the glass screen disappeared. The colt sighed in annoyance, tearing himself away from the lever. He turned to look at his friends – and finally, with a gasp, realized who was standing in front of him. He jumped off the stool and galloped away with his friends.

The owner of the game machine looked at Yev'eni with a very suspicious look.

"Want to play, mister?" he asked in a tone devoid of the slightest hint of friendship magic.

“On this?” Yev'eni nodded at the car. - Yes. Yes, I want. How much?

"Fifteen for five minutes, then another ten for every five," the pony said, clearly hoping the price would be too high.

Generally speaking, it seemed too high for children's entertainment to me... But Yev'eni meekly snatched the bits and handed them to the pony. With a sigh, he switched something on the panel, and the machine threw blue letters on a light blue background onto the screen:

"WEATHER PEGASUS"

The letters disappeared. Yev'eni lowered his hand to the lever. With his height, he had no need for a stool - on the contrary, he had to bend over.

A blue pegasus figure appeared on the screen, the clouds slid from top to bottom, imitating flight. The human moved the lever to the left - and the figure, swinging, lay down on the wing following his movement. To the right - and it obediently slid to the right.

Right, left... The fluffy cloud, having met the pegasus, crumbled into golden horseshoes. A black cloud, sparkling with lightning, appeared, collided with the pegasus - and sparkled with bolts, and in the upper right part of the screen the line of hearts became one heart shorter. Yev'eni quickly led the pegasus to the right, to the left, picked up the cloud...

He straightened up abruptly and turned to face the pony.

“What does it run on? Is it a processor device? Or some kind of tricky electromechanics? The screen is glass, but it's clearly not a CRT, it looks more like some kind of projector...”

“What?” the earth pony's eyes widened.

"What's inside this thing?" Yev'eni demanded. He leaned down, trying to peer through the crack between the screen and the body.

"A magic crystal, what else?" the merchant shrugged. He glanced at the screen, on which a drawn pegasus was surrounded by black figures of changelings. "Mister human, if you've don't want to play more, don't scare the kids away."

Yev'eni gave him a crazy look.

“How much do you want to open this thing?”

The earth pony quickly stepped between him and the device.

"Mister," he said with a quiet threat, "Get lost before I call the guards."

“Yev'eni!” I intervened, tugging the human by the sleeve. “What happened?”

He looked at me, at the owner of the machine, and seemed to come to his senses a little.

“Oh. Sir, I'm sorry. You see... I used to deal with such devices in my home land. And I became very curious about how it was constructed, whether it was the same as the ones I knew, or somehow different. I apologize if I scared away your customers.”

“It’s nothing,” the merchant said warily. “Listen, all I know about them is that they’re made by unicorns in Canterlot, that they cost a Discord ton of bits, and that they run on unicorn magic. I’m not even the owner of this machine, Apricot Branch hired me, if you want, wait for him and have a chat with him when he comes to take over his shift. Until then, please don’t scare the foals.”

“But can you give me the address where they sell such devices?”

“Also to the owner.”

“Okay. Okay,” Yev'eni pulled himself together. “We're in a hurry. But I'll probably still drop in to see you this evening. Good luck, mister.”

“Good luck to you too.”

Already behind the shopping arcade, cutting through the park, I lightly nudged Yev'eni with my shoulder.

“Listen. Did you really like this game that much? It's just that the foals were really scared, and Remy got angry...”

The human looked at me, absentmindedly ruffled my mane, then, realizing that we were not at home, he pulled his hand away.

“The game itself is a simple arcade game...”

“Simple what?”

“It doesn’t matter... Listen, if these crystals of yours can really work not only as lights and holograms, but as a processor... Stargaze, this is...”

“Yes, yes?”

“Listen. When we invented similar devices, it was a real revolution. They were used everywhere - in computers, in managing complex systems, in communications... Hay, I can't even explain it briefly! In just half a century, microprocessors have changed everything! I don't understand how you can use such things in children's entertainment - and nowhere else!”

“Well, not exactly nowhere...”

“Yes, yes, lamps, decorations, holograms... You don't understand. And I don't understand. They should be found at every step, and not like this!”

I shrugged.

“Well, crystals are expensive, and enchanting them is also expensive and time-consuming... Yev'eni, I can't answer you right away. I myself am very poorly versed in magic, and I don't quite understand what you're talking about. You'd better find out about this from some real wizards, for example, in Canterlot.”

The man huruffled his hair.

“Maybe, maybe. Stargaze, if no one has figured this out yet, it's a gold mine!”

I responded with a laugh.

“Listen, let's deal with the stylomechs first! And come on, think of how we're going to sorry to Remy!”

“Oh, yes, Remy...” Yev'eni's gaze fell on the ice cream stand. “I think I found the way.”

The earth pony standing behind the counter gave us a stern look.

“So?” she said sternly.

We bowed our heads in unison.

“We have ice cream,” Yev’eni whispered conspiratorially.

“Hm. Is this a bribe?”

“No. Bonuses for good work.”

"Pfft," Remy lightly kicked the counter. "Okay, you're forgiven. Better yet, give Steel a bonus - he's been torn between the counter and the workshop all morning."

Indeed, from somewhere in the depths of the shop came the hum of a machine. Muffled – it was not for nothing that we were fiddling with soundproofing!

“Of course,” Yev’eni promised. “What, a lot of sales?”

“About twenty in just one morning,” Remy said proudly.

I smiled. The hand-drawn inscription on the sign "Wonderbolt Supplier" was doing the magic! If this continues, we will cover the loss from the reduced prices in a one day!

“Okay, are you going home? Stargaze and I will cover for you.”

Remy shook her head.

“I need to experiment with a new dye. I want to know in advance whether it is a suitable replacement or not.”

“And then I'll get to coloring.”

“Well, as usual, I’ll be at the counter,” Yev’eni summed up. “Okay, girls, to your seats!”

The work was going well. One by one, the smooth wooden blanks were varnished and painted and put into the dryer. First, I varnished the stylomechs that had been painted yesterday, then I started painting those that had just come out from under Steel’s hooves. I painted the main batch (sometimes allowing myself variations in colors and patterns – I have long been convinced that differently painted stylomechs sell better than the same type of carbon copy coloring!). I took on the personalized one – this still required hoof labor. Bronze and I thought about a version of a round stencil where stamps with hoofwritten letters would be inserted – but the device, even in sketches, turned out to be complex, required fine work itself, and somehow we haven’t gotten to the embodiment in iron).

In her pen, quietly grumbling - apparently, something was not working out with the reagents - Remy's dishes were clanking and solutions were bubbling, she have dragged away the day before yesterday's batch with the carvings sealed with plasticine. Steel had long since finished gluing, turning, sanding and cutting the blanks and now took up the caps. Every now and then he yawned infectiously, covering his mouth with his hoof. I mentally sympathized with the poor colt - I knew very well what it was like!

Finally, I straightened my hurting neck and legs. I stuck my head out into the sales area, saw Yev'eni actively extolling the advantages of stilomech over a quill for ten pony, and decided not to interfere. I slipped through the back door, went around the building, and, with a satisfied face, glanced at the sign once more, reached the very coffee shop. The coffee from which Yev'eni had given me a drink after my nightly gatherings.

Levitating a donut and holding a thermos with my hoof, and managing to chew on the way (some acrobatics, I tell you!), I returned to my workplace. I stuck my nose into the hall again - making sure that the flow of customers had subsided. Judging by the satisfied face of the human - not empty-handed.

“Hey! I brought coffee!”

"Well, the debt is repaid," Yev'eni grinned and bit into a donut. I sighed, thinking how quickly the coffee-and-donut diet would ruin our stomachs. And how quickly it would affect my flanks!

The door creaked. Yev'eni overcame the donut with the speed of a parasprite and quickly turned to face the newcomer.

“The Stilomechs of Stargaze welcome you, Gentlecolt!”

The dark green earth pony looked around the room.

"What unusual devices you have for sale here, mister," he said enthusiastically. "What do they do?"

"It's a writing instrument," Yev'eni responded readily, and launched into an explanation of the working principles and advantages of human device. Pony listened, his ears twitching, his gaze sliding over the shelves.

"What an interesting time we live in," he said. "You know, mister, I'm something of a stranger in Manehattan myself. I'm originally from Los Pegasus, but my job as a traveling salespony keeps me on the road a lot.

– You must have seen all of Equestria.

“And not only. I have been to Maretania and Prance, I have sell my goods to so many places. And everywhere I have passed, I have tried to buy some souvenir that would remind me of the trip.

"Sir," Yev'eni's voice dropped, "I believe you've already found a suitable place to purchase a Manehattan memorabilia."

“Your shop? Yes, that would be nice. Do you mind if I examine these mechanical quills of yours?”

“Stylomechs, you mean? Yes, of course. Our entire range is at your service, and for some twenty bits - we are ready to paint the stylomech in your colors and write your name on it!

“Oh, that sounds interesting,” the pony walked along the display case, poked a hoof at one of the stylomechs, a light green one. “You know what? I'll take this one as a gift for a friend. And for myself, I'll take advantage of your generous offer and order one painted to match me.”

“Excellent solution! Mister, please state your name.”

"Glue Mane," the pony turned slightly, showing his side with a mark in the form of a flowing mane. "By the way, sir, about names... Can I ask you to leave me an autograph? I take them wherever I buy souvenirs to remember my travels.”

“Yes, of course,” Yev’eni opened the stylomech so that the client could see his actions.

"Here, please," the pony produced a notebook with a wave of his mane. Imitating Yev'eni, he used our sample, scribbling a few lines on the open page. "Here, here, please."

Yev'eni glanced at the page.

“My apologies, Glue. There's a slight inaccuracy here. I'm not "the best mechanical quill trader in Equestria." I'm the best stylomech trader.”

"Oh, I'm not good at technical sciences," the pony waved his hoof dismissively. "They write with ink on paper, so they're quills."

“And yet,” Yev'eni made a few quick flourishes. “Let me make it better this way. "From the first seller of stylomechs in Equestria!" The corrected version is to be believed, signature.”

The pony looked from the page to him.

“Something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no, everything is great. Thanks for the autograph, mister. I'll try to pick up the order tomorrow.”

“And the one you wanted to take for your friend?” Yev’eni called out to the pony who had already stepped towards the door.

“For a friend? Oh, yeah. You know, actually,” the pony lowered his voice, “I just remembered that I'm not quite sure about the color of his fur. You know what? I'll meet him today, take another look, and then I'll make both purchases at once. Goodbye!”

The door closed.

“Well, there you go,” I summed up in a satisfied voice. “Two sales from one client.”

The human looked thoughtfully at the door.

“Somehow...” he broke off. Because it opened again, letting in a trio of ponies - two earth and one unicorn. Remembering that my work was not finished, I hurried back to the workshop.

Here, still yawning infectiously, Steel finished his work, said goodbye and left in the company of Remy. Before leaving, our chemist reported that the replacement reagents did not meet expectations, and tomorrow she plans to visit a couple more shops just in case. The flow of customers was decreasing, although at least once every half hour someone would drop in to the shop.

Here is the last of the personalized cases in the dryer. I carefully, so as not to leave a mark, felt one of the dinner blanks. About five of them were dry enough to apply varnish. All that was left was to seal them and carefully dip them into the container with telekinesis, and then return them to the dryer.

Yev'eni sat behind the counter and studied the contents of the cash register. The drawer, pulled out a third of its length, glittered with gold coins, and three large rubies sparkled in the compartment for stones.

“Wow!” I couldn't help but say, as soon as I glanced over his shoulder. When I was an artist, that amount would have been enough for a month of very comfortable living - or three months without excesses!

Of course, I understood that most of this money would go the same way - to pay rent, to pay off a loan, to buy reagents... But it was still nice to look at the golden shine.

“Oh, oh,” Yev’eni agreed absentmindedly. “You know, Stargaze, we need to think about cash collection…”

“About what?”

“We need to talk with the bank. Maybe they have ponies with security who take money from the shops? I feel uneasy about keeping such money in a simple safe, and it’s getting a bit difficult to transport it by hand…”

“With security?” I laughed. - Look, this isn't dragon’s land. The guards mostly deal with pickpockets and tipsy sailors. There haven't been any major thefts in Manehattan...” I wanted to say "never", but I remembered the city incidents section at my previous place of work “… for quite a while!”

“Once a year even the poker shoots. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a chat with the solicitor… I’m not too strong in your legalese. And it’s stressful for me to sign something whose meaning I don’t understand. It’s okay if it’s the city weatherponies or your special forces, whatever they’re called – I don’t think they have any reason to screw us over. But if we continue to grow…”

I sat down next to him. Yev'eni clicked the lock on the cash register and put his arm around my shoulders.

“We can’t afford to keep a guard and a solicitor yet,” I stated the obvious. “We’ve only just reached the planned level, and even then – we were incredibly, incredibly lucky with the Wonderbolts! Maybe in the future…”

The human smiled.

“When will we fill all of Equestria with stylomechs and push quills and inkwells out of the market?”

I snorted.

“Why not?”

"Indeed, why not?" Yev'eni pulled me close. "When we have such a wonderful pony like you with us?"

I blushed.

“Flatterer.”

“Just a little bit,” Yev’eni leaned towards my lips.

I closed my eyes and moved towards...

The door creaked.

We jerked back sharply and in unison.

Yev'eni turned towards the entrance.

"The Stylomechs of Stargaze welcome you, filly!" he blurted out. The skill of a trader was evident. I would not have been able to switch to a working mode so quickly.

Especially now.

Especially now!!!

"Stylomechs"? Stargaze?!!”

"Yes, lady pony! Human writing devices at reduced rates…" Yev'eni followed the unicorn's gaze as it bore into me. He saw my cheeks flush and my eyes widen, and finally realized that something was wrong.

“Stargaze?”

“Mom?!”

In the family room

I swallowed.

I stared at the dark blue unicorn with a green mane who was glaring at me.

So, Zhenyok, don't be silent. Say something smart.

For example, “Hello, did you just notice how I kissed your daughter?”, right?

Yeah, mega option.

“Mom?” Alyatara repeated, shocked. “We didn’t… I mean, you could have at least warned you were coming…”

"Oh, and I glad to see you too, Alyatara," said the second unicorn. "Even though you didn't bother to reply to the letter. So I figured there was little point in warning you, since you don't read them anyway."

Okay, now I definitely need to turn a phrase...

I stepped out from behind the counter and bowed ceremoniously.

“We are very glad to see you in our shop, Mrs...” I turned slightly towards Alyatara.

"Diamond Star," the guest answered instead of Alyatara. "May I ask your name, Mister..."

“My name is Evgeniy Komarov, Mrs. Diamond Star,” I bowed again. “I am Lady Alyatara’s business partner in our modest enterprise”

Alyatara finally came out of her reboot. She followed me around the counter, nervously lashing her tail against her legs. Diamond's tail was moving from side to side in a very similar motion.

"And my flatmate," added Alyatara. "Remember, I told you when I came for Hearth Day."

“Oh, of course I remember.”

Alyatara twitched her ears nervously.

“You should have warned me about your arrival. I would have at least met you at the station.”

“Oh, Alyatara, you shouldn't have. I'm traveling light, and you're clearly overworking at your new job, since you're still there at eight in the evening,” the pony measured me with a glance. “Your shop doesn't even have working hours standards, or what?”

Alyatara lashed her tail against the counter.

“Mom! We are equal partners and Evgeniy can't just let me go from work. We have a lot of things to do that we have to finish in our free time!”

I coughed.

“Are you staying with us for long, Diamond?” I swallowed with a titanic effort of will, "What, you won't even have some tea?"

"I'm heading back to New Haysey in a couple of hours," was it just me or did a sigh of relief escape Alyatara's chest? "I was planning on visiting you at home, but I ran into a locked door. I had to look up your shop in the directory."

She looked me up and down.

"By the way, what kind of creature are you? I heard something about... humanlings, right?" Her eyes narrowed.

I hastened to put on the most benevolent smile possible.

“Humans, Diamond. And yes, I can guess what kind of rumors you've heard, but believe me, they're exaggerated. We're just a handful of wanderers, accidentally thrown into Equestria and trying to settle in.”

Alyatara's hooves hit the floor as she shifted from foot to foot.

“Maybe we should at least go to the back room?” she suggested awkwardly. “We have coffee and cookies...”

"Oh, those Manehattan cookies," Diamond grimaced. "I brought a bag of homemade cookies. You can't get those in this town, I promise."

Without waiting for further invitations, the mare passed us and headed for the door at the back of the shop. I slowed down, looking from one door to the other. Should I close the shop or not? On the one hand, it would be very impolite to remain at my post, leaving Alyatara to greet her dear guest alone. On the other hand, it was still business hours, and one of the ponies might well drop in for a visit.

Oh, screw it. I'll leave the door to the hallway open, if someone comes in, I'll hear the bell ring.

Glory to all the gods of this world and the previous one! If I hadn't hung it, Diamond would have caught us by surprise. Having watched the kissing scene from the front row!

Alyatara looked at me with a helpless look and darted after. I followed the unicorn.

The both.

"Be careful, Diamond!" I called out to the guest, who was about to enter the workshop. "We keep reagents for work there!"

Diamond turned around.

“So you also have toxic production here?”

"Nothing that would be life-threatening," Alyatara assured her. "If you want, Evgeniy and I will show you. You just have to be careful there so as not to spill anything or drop anything, that's all."

“I doubt I'll have time for that. Thanks for the offer though.”

“The utility room is here,” Alyatara pointed her horn at the right door.

I opened the thermos and poured the coffee left over from lunch into cups. Luckily, Alyatara had taken extra today, counting on Steele and Remy, who hadn't touched it. The wrapping paper rustled.

“Er… bon appetit?” Alyatara said uncertainly.

"These are great cookies, Diamond," I said, lying. No, the cookies weren't bad, but Donut Joe's was just as good.

“Thank you, mister,” she said ceremoniously. She took a sip of coffee and put the cup down on the table.

She turned her gaze to Aljatara.

“So what are you doing in Manehattan, Mom?” she said quickly, clearly trying to seize the initiative.

“What, I can’t come to visit my only daughter anymore?” Diamond smiled, softening the tone of her words, but there was no smile in her eyes.

“Mom! Of course you can, but it’s so sudden…”

“Speaking of suddenness, I'd still like to know if you're planning to visit your family on Hearts and Hooves Day or not. My father and I have to plan the holiday somehow.”

Alyatara had good control over herself. The expression on her face didn't change, only her ears twitched slightly in an attempt to press to her head.

“Hearts and Hooves Day is in a little over two months,” she said after a short pause. “Honestly, I haven’t planned anything for that time yet. And besides, Mom, don’t get me wrong… The holidays are a busy time for us! I can’t just up and leave if I let my friends down!”

Diamond nodded slowly.

“Yes, friends are, of course, important,” the unspoken “much more important than parents” practically oozed sarcasm into the air.

"We can redistribute the shifts," I quickly intervened. "The holiday itself is a lull, the wave comes on the last day before it and from the morning of the holiday. Technically, you could leave on the holiday itself and be visiting in the evening.

“Be home, Gentlecolt, be home,” Diamond corrected me. “Or whatever they call your kind?”

“Eugeniy” will be quite enough,” I faked a smile.

Alyatara sighed.

“I could visit you at another time! Say, next week. Then it will be easier for me to adjust my schedule to the trip…”

"Listen, I was your age too," Diamond interrupted. "If you're trying to say you want to spend the holiday with someone else, just say it, and don't beat around the bush."

Alyatara muttered something.

“What? Speak louder, filly, I guess I've become hard of hearing with age.”

I heard the gnashing of Alyatara's teeth very clearly.

“Mom. I have no plans for Hearts and Hooves Day! And I'm going to celebrate it at this counter! We could come another day if you want to see me so much...”

“We?!” her mother cut her off, piercing her with her gaze. “Who is this ‘we’?”

Oh, my God. Figuratively speaking.

Alyatara stopped short. She stared at Diamond in a hunted manner, not even daring to glance in my direction, and I realized that the unicorn had to be saved.

"The thing is, Diamond," I forced my most professional smile again, "I've hardly had a chance to see Equestria outside of Manehattan. I already told Alyatara that I want to get out to the capital someday, when things get easier. And I'd love to see your city, too, of course."

“Really?” the older unicorn looked me up and down. “Well, if you happen to be in New Haysey, we'll be glad to see you.”

Judging by the coldness in his grey eyes, which didn’t match his welcoming tone, they weren’t very glad to see me there.

“I’m afraid these are just rough sketches,” I sighed artificially. “Work leaves us with too little free time. We expect that this will change when things get going.”

“Well then, I wish your business prosperity,” Diamond put down her cup. “Sorry, Alyatara, but I have to catch a train.”

“Y-yes, it’s okay, I understand,” she said in a strangled voice. “Should I walk you?”

“Oh, no need, the station is not that far, and I’m traveling light.”

Well, whatever you say, Mom. Say hi to Dad.

The pony bowed briefly in my direction, kissed Alyatara on the cheek. The door slammed.

Alyatara, who had come out into the trading floor with me, exhaled. And she slid down to the floor where she had been standing, exhausted.

I plopped down on my butt next to her, ruffling her mane.

“Parental overprotection, right?”

The unicorn groaned.

“How does she do it, huh? She doesn't seem to say anything bad, so I can't even get upset! But with every word she makes it clear that I'm not really twenty-three, but thirteen at the most! Ooooh...”

I sighed.

“Believe it or not, I have encountered something similar. That is partly why I moved away from my family. When you reduce the contacts, it stops being so annoying.”

Alyatara shook her bangs.

“I'm already home once every six months, and it still doesn't help. She probably just can't accept that I'm a grown pony and not a foal.”

She closed her eyes. She moved to the left, snuggling her side against me.

“Do you think she suspected something?”

I shrugged.

“You tell me. It seems like she didn't catch us at the entrance...”

She chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t know, Evgeniy... And I’m fool, I blurted it out without thinking...”

I have issued another VHS.

“Yes, my excuses weren't very convincing. But now I have an official invitation to visit yours.”

Alyatara placed her hoof on my hand.

“I don’t even know what will look more suspicious now. If you go with me – or if you don’t.”

We both sighed in unison.

“Oh, okay, we’ll figure it out as we go,” I patted the pony on the scruff of the neck again.

Oh my god.

I did it.

I overcame my phobias and fears, trampled my masculinity, redefined my gender…

Anyway, I got on this sugar machine of horror and defecation called the Friendship Express.

And no one, not a single intelligent being on this planet, not even Alyatara, will ever know what it cost me.

The trip, however, was not far - New Haysey was located three hours from Manehattan. So we did not buy tickets for a compartment, but settled down on the soft sofas of the local reserved seat carriage.

Yes, even the reserved seats here were equipped with sofas.

To my relief, permission to leave the city was given to me in Committee without any particular delays. I didn't even see my old friend Soft Grit, limiting to a conversation with the guard in the groundfloor window.

And now I was staring out the window, expecting something... Well, magical-friendly-pony-magic.

Expectations have not yet been met.

We crossed the strait – on a long railway bridge hanging on the delicate threads of the cables. The grey-steel waves licked the foot of the coastal cliffs, rolled over the log barriers that protected the bridge supports from ice floes. Far to the north, the northern shore of the bay was visible in the haze. A stone lighthouse tower flashed on the right side, then the train went deeper into the expanses of mainland Equestria, and the sea disappeared from sight.

The railway stretched between gentle snow-covered hills. The slopes were covered with thick bushes, from which here and there rose groves of trees - both ordinary pines, oaks and poplars, and also something unfamiliar to me, like spreading trees with white bark or lush bushes with dark green needles. However, I couldn’t closely examine the flora from the carriage window, and I didn’t try to.

Every now and then small houses in a framework of load-bearing beams flashed by - with some effort I even remembered the term "half-timbered architecture". Smoke curled from massive brick chimneys over thatched roofs. In the hollows between the hills there were hedges, boundary stones, somewhere from under the snow you could see even rows of some plantings left for the winter.

Alyatara was deep in the book she had brought with her. The other ponies, crowded into the carriage, were chatting among themselves, or, like Alyatara, were in reading, solving crosswords and other train entertainments, or, like me, were staring out the window…

They all had only one thing in common.

Every pony in the carriage, openly or furtively, managed to glance in my direction.

Stop, Zhenyok.

It's high time you got used to this.

Alyatara, as if sensing my anxiety, raised her head.

“Everything is fine?”

“I was just thinking,” I almost didn't lie. “Listen. Maybe you can tell me what to expect from your parents? You know, what not to say, how to behave? Pros, cons, pitfalls?”

The pony raised her eyes to heaven.

“Well, you've already met Mom... It'll be easier with Dad, he's a cheerful and happy pony, without Mom's quirks. So I don't even know what to say... We're not some kind of hermits from stone farms or Canterlot nobles, so you can behave like any other pony!”

I leaned towards her ear.

“Are we going to confess?”

Alyatara shuddered.

“It's scary. Maybe Dad would have taken it normally, although... although... But I don't even want to think about the way Mom looks at me!”

I nudged her slightly with my shoulder, in the spirit of her habit of giving me a friendly nudge on the thigh.

“We don't have to.”

“Let’s wait,” she nodded. “Honestly, I don’t want to explain anything to anyone. This is just about us.”

I wanted to hug Alyatara, who was probably as nervous as I was in the dungeons of Commitee, by the shoulders. But tenderness in a train carriage full of ponies... No, that would have to wait until we got home.

New Heysey emerged from behind another hill just as the sun was about to dive below the horizon in the direction we had come from.

I guessed that we had reached our destination, even without Alyatara's hint, a split second before the unicorn tapped me on the shoulder with her hoof and whispered: "We have arrived!"

In general, it looked like a city only by Equestrian standards.

In my homeland, a cluster of one- and two-story houses surrounded by sparse forest would only qualify as a village. And the village is not very big.

The street lights came on, illuminating the city as a bright spot among the undergrowth. Then we entered a valley, and the branches of the trees hid the cityscape from our view. There was a whistle of steam, and the train jerked, slowing down.

The station was empty. And the station itself looked more like a halting - a wooden platform attached to the railway, and a brick building with a couple of windows. We went down a rusty, creaking ladder to the ground, following three or four ponies, who, like us, had left the reserved seat. I grabbed the bag with the presents more comfortably.

“Follow me,” Aliatara whispered.

“Lead the way, Virgil.”

“Who?”

“Oh, sorry, an earthly cultural reference. I'll explain it to you later.”

We set off along a cobblestone path flanked by two rows of firefly lanterns. There was surprisingly little snow on the road, and Alyatara's hooves clicked loudly on the stones. The city must have a good street cleaning service... Oh, right. The local weather crew must know their stuff and not pile snowdrifts on the city unnecessarily.

The first buildings began to flash around. The forest – or rather a park, the thickets were neatly trimmed, the pines and oaks grew at the right distance from each other – somehow immediately turned into the city, the trees rose between the houses. There were no fences and vegetable gardens familiar to our eyes, the buildings stood close to each other, their facades facing the street. There were no passers-by, only a couple of times ponies passed us, looking sideways with curiosity at the two-legged figure.

The street made a couple of sharp turns, it felt like it was laid out without a plan, just each house was built where it was most convenient for the owner. Thatched roofs were replaced by red tiles, two-story mansions were increasingly common. Another turn - and we found ourselves in a round square. On the far side of it towered a three-story building, crowned with a high turret, and to our left - a rounded arch rose, behind which some covered pavilions were visible.

“The city hall and the theater,” Alyatara broke the silence. “And the market,” she pointed her hoof somewhere to the east. “In that direction is the school where I studied before entering the academy.”

“Are we going there?”

“No, the other way. Or do you want to walk around the city? I can show you...”

“Oh, let's get this all figured out quickly,” I shook my head. “The sooner we sit down, the sooner we get out.”

"Sit down?" the pony asked. "Is this some kind of cultural reference?"

I snorted.

“Right on target.”

Looked at Aljatara more closely.

“Do you want to delay the moment?”

The pony sighed.

“I'm a coward, right?”

This time I decided to stroke her head.

“I'm on pins and needles myself. Okay, relax. They won't eat us, after all.”

Warm yellow light filtered through the lancet windows. The ponies ignored curtains on their windows, limiting themselves to lace curtains and patterned shutters. However, I still tried not to look unnecessarily into the insides of other 's houses. We wandered along the pavement, turning after turning.

Until a two-story cottage surrounded by juniper loomed ahead. A small decorative tower rose above the green door, and to the left of the porch a small pond was visible, now empty and filled with snow.

We exchanged glances.

“On the count of three?”

“One, two...”

Alyatara's hoof and my palm touched the door knocker at the same time.

“Coming, coming!” the stallion's voice was heard on the other side. “Who's there? We're busy!”

“Dad, it's me!”

The door swung open.

“Alyatara?!” a tall, light green unicorn, up to my chest, with an aquamarine mane, the same color as Alyatara's fur, stepped onto the porch. On his thigh was a mark in the form of a gray cobblestone and an open eye.

“Hi, Dad!” Alyatara hugged him around the neck.

“We thought you were coming tomorrow,” the unicorn muttered confusedly, hugging his daughter.

“Our schedule changed, we were only able to find a window for this evening. I didn't even have time to send the letter!”

This was the absolute truth. The supplies of the reagents Remy coveted had arrived earlier than expected, and the earth pony had warned us that she would only be able to help Steel in the shop that evening – after that, she would have all her time filled with her direct duties. So the decision to break out to New Haysey was made rather spontaneously.

“Oh, we’re always glad to see you, even when you appear suddenly,” said the unicorn. He looked at me. He narrowed his eyes.

“Alyatara, isn't this by any chance your friend that you were talking about on Hearth Warming Day?”

“Exactly! Let me introduce you. This is Evgeniy Komarov, my friend and partner, and this is Stone Watcher, my dad.”

"Alyatara's friends are my friends," the unicorn extended a hoof to me. I grabbed it just above the pastern and shook it gently.

“Well, come in. Diamond, my soul! We have guests!”

“Guests?” A clicking sound came from the depths of the house. Diamond appeared in the illuminated doorway. “Oh, Sisters, Alyatara, you are in your element! I was not prepared to welcome guests, the house is untidy, there is nothing to put on the table!”

"We're a very unpretentious species, Diamond," I tried to force a smile. "A glass of water and a crust of bread are enough for us to be happy."

“Mister Komarov?” the pony dramatically pressed her hoof to her face. “Well, I can only hope that you don't think that my house is always such a mess! And please, don't judge all the unicorns in Equestria by our home!”

"Come on, my dear," Stone intervened. "Come on in, daughter. And show your friend where everything is."

My jacket found a home on the varnished branches of a tree-style coat rack in the hallway. Alyatara glanced out of the corner of her eye at the huge oak-framed mirror on the far side of the room, smoothing her mane. I swiveled my head, looking for a place to put my shoes.

“Don’t take off your shoes,” the unicorn whispered to me.

“Come in, come in,” Stone pointed to the right door.

We sat down in front of the huge fireplace, where the flames still danced in the embers. They gave off enough light that the firefly lamp on the coffee table was turned off. Alyatara took up a strategic position between me and my father, in the corner of a massive sofa with dragon-headed arms and cast-iron legs. I nestled into an equally menacing chair, leaning back carefully. It was a little awkward to sit in thing designed for a pony's size, but I had gotten used to it over the past few months.

Diamond Star disappeared somewhere in the depths of the house, from where the sound of pots and spoons could be heard. Apparently, she had exaggerated about "nothing to put on the table."

“I can't wait to hear about your shop first-hand. It's crazy, my baby is now a grown-up and responsible business pony,” Stone grinned. “And about you too, mister. Are the rumors true? Are you really an alien from beyond our world?”

Well, he didn't say "invader." Or "monster." Good sign.

“That's right. Just don't ask me how I got here. The best scientists in Equestria are struggling with this mystery.”

Stone whistled.

"I heard about the Ponyville invasion and the camp, but I thought it was half-truth at best. Something's always been happening in Ponyville, ever since Nightmare came back."

“Well, I wouldn’t call it an invasion,” I carefully interjected. “I certainly didn’t intend to invade anywhere.”

“And how did you end up in Equestria?” Stone asked curiously.

“Well... basically I was just thrown almost on Alyatara's head,” I wisely decided not to clarify the small details about the bath and so on. “That's how we met.”

“And we started a joint business,” Aliatara put in. “By the way! Dad, Mom, we brought you something!”

She pulled out from her saddle bag a massive stylomech, painted blue and green.

"A funny toy," Stone twirled the stylomech in front of his nose with telekinesis. "Are these the famous human quills they talk about in Manehattan?"

"Exactly. Only we don't call them quills," I said, resisting the urge to make a joke about a featherless animal.

"What difference does it make what they're called if they're meant for the same thing?" Stone asked rhetorically. "Thank you, daughter." He sent the stylomech flying onto the mantelpiece with a flash of green light.

The door opened, and Diamond's head appeared in the doorway. Around her neck hung an apron decorated with an image of three strawberries. Exactly the same as the one on her hip.

“Please come to the table,” she said ceremoniously. “Excuse me for the meagerness of the refreshments.”

Well, if this was a small dinner by New Haysey standards, I wouldn't want to be invited to a big one. For fear of bursting.

On my plate, steaming, crumbly, fried boiled potatoes were piled high with a generous portion of vegetable ragout. Thinly sliced slices of black bread sat next to a bright yellow slice of butter and something bright red in a sauceboat. The salad bowl gave off a rich herbal aroma mixed with a subtle scent of olives and vinegar.

“Mmm!” Alyatara sniffed, wiping her hooves with a towel. “I missed home cooking so much!”

"Are you living on hay and sandwiches in town again?" Diamond asked menacingly. "You'll ruin your digestion before you know it!"Mr. Komarov, you must watch her diet!”

I thought it best to remain silent. Fortunately, there was a very good reason - a mouth full of potatoes with spicy sauce.

“Diamond Star, you are a magical cook,” I flattered the hostess a minute later. This time – much more sincerely.

“Yes, that’s what we have,” Stone said in a satisfied tone.

"You're welcome," Diamond said. "I'm really ashamed that I had to treat you to whatever I had in the fridge. If I'd known beforehand..."

Alyatara, not listening to her, put a spoonful of salad on herself. Sniffed.

“Is it with alfalfa?” she said, looking at her mother.

“Yes, what is it? Honestly, I thought you had left your foal pickiness behind. Alfalfa is good for your health…”

The unicorn raised her hoof.

“Evgeniy! You remember...”

"I remember, I remember," I assured her. "Sorry, Diamond, but I'll pass on the salad. We humans don't digest alfalfa very well."

“Oh my God,” the hostess let out a VHS. “Alyatara, you should have warned me! I didn't even think...”

“It’s all right,” I hastened to assure her. “I’m already used to keeping track of such things.”

The kettle whistled on the stove. Diamond stood up, placed a plate of blueberry pie on the table, and poured chamomile-scented tea into cups.

Stone Watcher, having gobbled up the pie in a split second, looked at me.

"Tell me, are your kind allowed to move around Equestria?" he asked. "For some reason I thought that humans were forbidden to settle outside the boundaries of this camp of yours."

"Since Alyatara took me on bail, I was allowed to live freely," I explained. "Within the limits of Manehattan, of course. To go to New Haysey, I had to get a special permit from Committee."

“Committee?” Diamond asked again.

“A special office of the Department of Friendship,” explained Alyatara. “Which deals with issues of human adaptation.”

Stone nodded.

“The Department of Friendship, huh?” He leaned back in his chair. - I knew its head. Once I had to attend an interrogation with her.”

“Darling, our guests are unlikely to be interested in your work stories,” Diamond noted dryly.

“At Starlight Glimmer's interrogation?” Alyatara asked. “I've never heard of that before! Dad, tell me!”

“And I wouldn’t refuse to listen,” I joined in the request.

Stone chuckled. He took a big sip of tea.

“Well, it happened when you left for Manehattan, and then it was somehow forgotten due to the time that passed. It's been about four years since then... Or a little less.”

“Four years?” Alyatara asked. “Wait, really…”

“Well, yes, then she was not yet the head of the Department of Friendship. Actually, then the Department did not exist yet. Then she had just been discharged from the villains and became the personal student of Her Highness. Well, so there you have it.

We were doing a survey in the Foal Mountains back then. Of course, the mines there were considered exhausted in the first few centuries from the Hearth, but the dowsers of those times couldn't even dream of the magic that we have! Search spells with solution and impulse adjustment, thaumic carotage matrices, sympathetic resonators...”

“Stone,” Diamond cut him off.

“What? Oh, yeah... Well, that's it. Our base camp was in Bales, Shift Jump, our teleporter, sent us to the mountains to the northeast. There were four of us - me, two hoofponies and Rick Digger, our expedition rocktor. A good guy, even though he's an earth pony...

“Daddy!” Alyatara exclaimed indignantly.

Stone coughed in embarrassment.

“Look, I'm not some kind of speciesist. I have nothing against even griffins, not to mention pegasi or earth ponies. I just think that it's better for each race to live separately than to mix. What would happen if all the unicorns moved to Cloudsdale, and the earth ponies settled in Canterlot and practiced magic? Nothing good, just running around and chaos, like in Ponyville...”

“Then why do you live among earth ponies?”

“Well, that's a different matter. I can't afford housing in Canterlot, and it's a long way from there to the mines... Okay, you distracted me. So here it is.

We set up camp and set out early in the morning. We worked as usual - I set up search amulets, do a general scan, give Rick the scan, he looks at the results and tells me where to do additional exploration. We walked about ten miles, opened up a couple of promising veins, although nothing of great value, and came out to an old sanctuary. It was already getting dark, and Rick and I decided to pitch tents. Of course, not in the ruins themselves - about three miles away, behind the mountain. There were no fools among us, not only could the ruins themselves collapse on your head at any moment, but the unicorns of antiquity were also masters of all sorts of unpleasant surprises for those who decided to lay a hoof on their treasures - and not all of their spells have dissipated over time. Let Daring Do climb such places, and not us, humble equiologists.

Anyway, we went to bed – and three hours later we were awakened by a roar. It felt like a thunderstorm had broken out over Ponyhedge in a clear sky. Green bolts struck and struck the rock, lightning flashed, the earth shook. I felt echoes of alien and strange magic, although I would never have been able to determine who that was and what spells he was casting. And was it even a unicorn mage, or was it just one of the old magic traps that had gone off.

This went on for about half an hour, then it died down. The workers started muttering about ghosts, so I had to fill them in that the Baltimare Mining Trust wasn't paying them for scary stories. In the morning we continued along the route, but made a big detour - no one wanted to go near the shrine after the night show.

Well, here we are. We finished the loop and went back to camp to spend the night and go on the next route. And then this pony, Starlight, showed up.

She teleported right into the middle of the camp and immediately started to find out what we were doing near the ruins. I must admit, I was a little scared, after all, you remember what rumors were about her then. We didn't hide anything - we honestly admitted what we were doing and what we saw.

She got very excited when she heard about the storm last night. She was very persistent in asking me what I had managed to notice and what I could say about the spells that were happening there. When she realized that I have nothing to tell, she sighed heavily, muttered under her breath, "Twilight won't like this," and melted into thin air.

“What was that?” Alyatara asked curiously.

“The princess doesn’t report to me,” Stone spread his hooves. “I heard a rumor that either some ancient artifact exploded there, or the ghost of Starswirl himself appeared, or something else. But I think it’s all just tales. I myself suspect that some kind of magical protection against robbers really did work there, maybe even squashing somepony. That’s why the princess sent her student to find out which of the ponies could have fallen under it.”

Alyatara shuddered.

“What, do you mean to say that ponies died there?!”

“I hope not. But who knows? For some reason the princess suddenly became interested in this.”

Stone yawned. He glanced at the minibar with a slight melancholy in his eyes. Diamond caught his glance and shook her head menacingly. I thought it best not to show that I noticed this exchange of glances.

The hostess stood up.

“Excuse me, I’ll go clean up the guest room,” she said. She headed for the kitchen exit.

Stone smiled at Aliatara.

“And you? Maybe you can tell me something interesting about your work? Or you, mister, can you share some interesting story from the world of humans?”

I'm a little stuck.

Yeah, the classic "tell me something funny" ploy. What to tell? Especially since lately interesting stories from Earth have been associated with something wrong for me...

“Oh!” Alyatara came to my rescue. “Since we're having an evening of celebrity reminiscences... Dad, guess who made a purchase in our shop about a month ago?”

“Princess Celestia?”

“Oh, well, we didn’t fly that high... I’ll give you a hint – it starts with “Spit”, ends with “fire” and commands the Wonderbolts!”

“Wow,” Stone raised an eyebrow. “Tell me in detail.”

“Well, it all started when Mike and Silver - you remember them, right? - came to visit me in the shop...”

Listening to this story that was already familiar to me, I began to study the glasses standing on the shelf with smiling ponies laid out in colored glass on the walls. Then I looked at the massive clock hanging above the bar. The numbers were laid out in gold inscribed with green stones - I even wondered if these were real emeralds or glass imitation. That in Equestria they had a free attitude to the value of precious stones - I already understood after the countless number of times when they paid us with them for stylomechs.

“Stone Watcher,” I interjected when Alyatara paused for a sip of tea. “What were you looking for in the mountains? Jewels?”

Stone chuckled.

“ Well, looking for gems is actually a simple matter. Find a place with an intersection of ley lines or concentrate them ungulally, like on a stone farm, cast a simple search matrix - and collect them with a shovel into a bucket. But a deposit of bauxite or polyalanite suitable for development is a rarity! Now the mines of Eastern Equestria are considered exhausted, the main development is taking place near Dodge City and in the Smokey Mountains. But give us another ten years, young colt - and we will change that!” He fervently slammed his hoof on the armrest. I did not even correct my species.

Diamond Star returned. She sank into a chair, pouring water from a decanter into a glass with a green pegasus.

“I made a bed for you in the guest room, Evgeniy. It's to the left of the stairs, at the far end of the corridor. And for you, Alyatara, in your old one. Everything there is still the same as it was when you were in school.”

“What, even my poster of Songbird Serenade and the porcelain collection?” Alyatara smiled.

“Of course. I'm not going to throw them away. I was hoping that my grandchildren would play with them... But it looks like I won't have any grandchildren, will I?”

Alyatara flinched as if she had been struck.

“Mom!”

Diamond looked us over.

“What? Or am I wrong?”

All the goodwill in the room seemed to have been blown away by the wind. I really wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. So as not to make the situation even more tense.

"Diamond!" Stone said sharply. "For Celestia's sake, let's not now..."

“Let’s not - what? Or are you okay with this?”

Alyatara rose with a jerk.

“We are tired,” she said coldly. “Tomorrow is a hard day for us. We are going to bed. Good night, everypony.”

She stepped toward the door, her head held high. She took one look, and I knew I'd better join her.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said awkwardly. “It really is late… Good night.”

“Uh… yes, you’re welcome,” Stone muttered. Alyatara stepped out the door, turned around for a second, and I caught her pleading gaze again. I almost ran out of the kitchen as if scalded.

She was silent as we climbed the double staircase with its carved supports. Only when the unicorn stepped toward the door on the right, and I was about to move on, her hoof rest on my hand.

“Come with me,” she whispered. “Please.”

I let myself be pulled by the hand into a cozy bedroom, with a fluffy feather bed and drawings on the walls – judging by the winter theme and execution technique, they belong to the pen of the unicorn herself. Paper snowflakes, darkened by time, were glued to the window. On the windowsill were h-painted porcelain figurines of ponies, griffins, and some other intelligent creatures – this must have been the very collection.

Alyatara fall onto the bed, closing her eyes.

“Why?” she asked with a quiet, bitter resentment. “Why… like this?”

I sighed. I sat down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

“She's probably just... worried about you. She's just showing it the best way she can.”

The pony groaned.

“Can't she see that she's hurting?”

I could only shrug. I sat next to Alyatara, listening to her breathing calm down, watching the shadows move slowly across the snow outside the window. Hoofsteps were heard below, and Diamond's voice was tense. I couldn't make out the words.

It's for the best.

When it seemed to me that Alyatara had fallen asleep, I carefully freed my hand and headed towards the door.

Or rather, I tried. Because the unicorn jumped up on the bed.

“Don’t go,” she asked quietly. “Stay here.”

I forced a smile.

“We won't shock yours completely?”

“And anyway,” Alyatara sat up in bed and kissed me. I smiled, running my fingers through the mane. I lay back down, hugging Alyatara, who was pressed against me with her back, like a big plush toy. The pony smiled through her reddened eyes and covered my hand with her hoof.

And yet I had to get out of bed.

For the most prosaic reason. The tea I drank began to look for a way out.

I carefully, so as not to wake the unicorn, removed my hand. I stood up - she sleepily stirred and muttered something. I quietly kissed her on the cheek, she hugged the pillow instead of my hand and began to snore peacefully.

I crept up to the first floor, cursing the creaky steps, and used the amenities in the small room under the stairs. I washed my hands, looked around for a towel, but couldn't find one. I crept back, raised my leg over the first step.

"Mr. Komarov," Stone's voice came from the living room through the half-open door. I turned around.

Pony was sitting in the same place he had been before dinner, looking into the fireplace. On the coffee table in front of him were several strange devices that looked like a hybrid of a hookah and a smoking pipe.

“Come in,” he ordered. The tone of his voice was friendly, but it was clearly an order, not a request.

I didn't dare disobey, and also took a seat in the same chair. The pony opened the cabinet door with telekinesis and pulled the thick-walled bottle towards him, gurgling.

"Would you like some?" he asked, tilting the glass slightly. "Three-year-old apple brandy. Sorry, I'm not offering you that," he touched the pipe, "that stuff doesn't always work as well on non-ponies."

I nodded silently. Stone poured brandy into glasses, handed one to me. He raised his.

“To our acquaintance, perhaps,” he said. Glass clinked. Alcohol burned my throat.

Stone disconnected the thin rubber hose leading to the pipe. He struck a lighter, holding it to the bottom of the cup. I couldn’t help but stare at his hooves, wondering what would happen next. This thing hardly looked like a smoking one after all…

The unicorn sucked in air through the tube. He held it in his lungs and exhaled forcefully but slowly. A huge soap bubble appeared from the cup of the tube, followed by a second and a third. They rose to the ceiling, sparkling in the dim light of the coals.

"They say it's not very good for the lungs, but it clears the brain really well," he drawled, seeing how fascinated I was by the play of thin films. "Well, at my age it's a bit late to bother about it."

The unicorn turned his gaze to me.

“Sorry about this evening, Mr. Komarov.”

I shrugged awkwardly.

“Mother is mother.”

“Yes. And I hope you can understand her. She had long dreamed of grandchildren, and when she realized that Alyatara had other plans...” he paused. He took another drag from his bubble machine."

He pierced me with his gaze.

“She's right about you and her, right?”

“Mr. Stone Watcher...”

I'm just asking.

“Let's say so.”

The unicorn looked at the translucent balls.

“I'll be honest - I'm not a supporter of modern morals. I don't even like the mixing of ponies, let alone foreigners. A filly should look for a mate among those who are close to her in spirit and nature, and not...”

“Well, excuse me, but I’m more concerned with Alyatara’s opinion than yours,” I blurted out sharply.

The unicorn suddenly grinned.

“Courage? I like that.”

He splashed half a finger of the amber liquid again.

“You know what? I agree with you.”

My jaw dropped.

“Sorry?”

Stone chuckled. He clinked glasses with me and drained the glass.

“No, not in the sense that I share modern views. But I am more concerned about Alyatara's happiness than about my rightness. If she is happy with you, then I would rather be dissatisfied than her being alone.”

He glared at me again.

“Is she happy with you?”

I touched my lips to the brandy and put the glass down.

“Stone,” I said quietly. “She came to my aid when I was lost, scared, and confused. She kept me from breaking. I don’t know how I can repay her for that. Making her happy is the least I can do. I don’t know what the future holds… but I’ll do anything for that. Anything.”

The unicorn was silent.

“Well then. May Celestia shine upon you.”

He suddenly pinned me to the spot with his gaze.

“But remember, friend, if you hurt my daughter... I don't mean if you get tired of each other or anything like that, life happens... But if you suddenly hurt or betray her - then know this. I will find you not only in Equestria - even in your world, and I will send you to the deepest of the abandoned adits of the Foal Mountains. Got it?”

“Well, I’d rather! ...”

“Okay, okay. Forgive old pony for father worrying. Another one?”

I shook my head.

“We really do have to hit the road tomorrow morning. I'll go to bed anyway.”

“Well, whatever you say. Just try not to make so much noise as to wake Diamond.”

My cheeks were flushed, and not just from the brandy I'd drunk.

“We don’t…”

Stone chuckled softly.

“Good night, buddy.”

“Cood night, Stone.”

A thin snow, almost invisible in the sun, was falling from the sky. The rare clouds from which it was falling were sliding across the sky from Manehattan, and between them, almost invisible at altitude, the dots of the weather team were flickering.

The whistle of an approaching train blew. Alyatara turned to her father.

"Well, see you later, daughter," he said warmly, hugging the unicorn. Alyatara hugged her father back, still nodding coldly to her mother. She responded with an equally prim nod.

I bowed.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Come by anytime,” Stone said cordially.

“Somehow, dad. If business allows.”

Stone smiled.

“It would be better if it allowed it, especially in a year. I think we could use some extra hooves to babysit your little sister.”

Diamond Star turned to face her husband.

“What?!”

He nudged her in the side.

“Oh, come on. Since we don't have grandchildren in this direction, then we need to take care of the issue ourselves, huh? And you and I aren't so old that we don't think about such things?”

Diamond blushed.

“Stone Watcher! You... you are impossible!”

“Ha-ha! That's why you married me at the time, no?”

I found myself smiling. Widely and genuinely.

“See you.”

“See you.”

The morning car was less crowded, and Alyatara and I found a place in the far corner, fenced off by saddlebags filled with all sorts of home-made treats that Stone thrust upon us without listening to objections.

The unicorn sniffed.

“I didn’t notice you drinking yesterday,” she said, puzzled.

I smiled.

“Your father and I had a drink last night.”

Alyatara jumped up.

“You don't...”

“We didn't even quarrel. As you said, he's a great guy.”

The pony sighed with relief.

“I’m glad that at least you got along with him.”

I wanted to joke that the situation was quite in the spirit of classic jokes about mother-in-law and father-in-law, but the words got stuck in my throat.

Because the words “mother-in-law” and “father-in-law” immediately led to other thoughts about family status through a chain of associations...

Yes, the situation is developing quickly...

Oh, fuck it all. We'll live and see. Firstly fight and than decide.

At least it has worked in business so far.

We entered the shop with Alyatara hand in hand... Hand in leg, more precisely.

Even just a little bit late for the start of the morning rush. Although, of course, we didn't have time to throw our luggage home.

And I immediately realized that something was wrong.

First, the front entrance was closed.

Secondly, Remy and Steel were in the back room instead of a counter or workshop.

And thirdly, Steele glanced timidly at his uncle.

Who held a paper scroll in his hooves.

“Bronze?” I dropped the bags on the floor. “What brings you here?”

The earth pony turned around.

“O. Evgeniy, Alyatara, hello. Look at this.”

He handed me a letter.

I looked at the ligature of Equestrian letters in bewilderment.

"To the authorized representative of the trading partnership "Stylomechs of Alyatara", Broncklin, 28, 3rd Avenue, 2-1, Manehattan UD , Alyatara Kiri.

From the trustee agent of the legal department of the trading house of Whitefeather & Co., Haypacking, 1, Sunrise Street, 195, Manehattan UD , Law Rider.

Dearest Alyatara!

By this letter the trading house of Whitefeather & Co. has the pleasure to inform you that the said trading house has been granted the privilege of royal banalites for trading in inks, inkwells, writing ink, drawing ink, goose quills, other bird quills, pegasus quills, writing pencils, drawing pencils, resinous and other erasers, calligraphy brushes, artist's brushes, drawing paper, writing paper, blotting paper, carbon paper, blotting sand and goods equivalent thereto, in accordance with the commercial law of the Kingdom of Equestria and in accordance with the highest act of HHPS Celestia dated April 20, 857, Era of the Sun.

It was established by the decree of HHPS Celestia of June 11, 721, Era of the Sun, "On the Privileges of Trade", paragraph LI , chapter I , that anyone wishing to trade in goods falling under the decree granting a royal privilege is obliged to obtain the consent of the holder of the privilege and pay this holder a fee in the amount agreed upon by the parties, but in no case less than eight hundred and fifty full-weight gold bits per month.

It was also established by the decree of HHPS Celestia of May 18, 1021, Era of the Sun, “On additions to the Law on commercial violations”, paragraph VI I, chapter I, that anyone guilty of violating a monopoly established by law is obliged to pay the holder of the monopoly a fine in the amount of one hundred and twenty percent of the amount of funds received for the entire period of such trade.

As determined by witness testimony, newspaper publications and street signs, the trading partnership "Stylomechs of Alyatara" from November 20, 2nd year of the Era of Friendship (1112th year of the Era of the Sun) to the present day has been engaged in the wholesale and retail trade of goods called stylomechs, which in functionality and design are a mechanical analogue of a writing quills, thereby violating the privilege of royal banalites granted to the trading house of Whitefeather and Co.

Based on the calculation of the value of the claim attached to this letter, the total amount of the debt of the trading partnership "Stilomechs of Alyatara" to the trading house Whitefeather and Co. is twenty thousand two hundred sixty-five full-weight gold bits.

However, guided by Friendship and Harmony, with the aim of maintaining the spirit of business cooperation, the management of the trading house Whitefeather & Co. offers you and your partners to voluntarily conclude an agreement on conducting trade ratione privilegii for a price of one thousand two hundred bits per month, or to transfer your enterprise to the ownership ad remanentiam of the trading house Whitefeather & Co. for a price of seven thousand bits.

In case of refusal of the above-described offer, the management of the trading house Whitefeather & Co. notifies you of its intention to apply to the arbitration court of the city district of Manehattan for the purpose of collecting the debt owed to the trading house Whitefeather & Co. with all due payments, duties and taxes cui vectigal.

Please accept assurances of my highest consideration.

Written on February 18, 3 EF (1113 ES) in Manehattan.

Sincerely yours, Law Rider."