I wasn’t in a great mood when I found out the last train to Rockville had just departed, with the next one not arriving until morning. Stranded in the city, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was part of some cosmic joke—like the so-called ‘story’ wanted me stuck here. I even saw the train pulling away right in front of me.

If I hadn’t frozen up earlier during that strange encounter on the main street, I would’ve made it in time.

Sure, I could have kicked up a fuss and yelled at the station clerk, but having worked in customer service before, I knew better. It wasn’t her fault. Just ‘bad luck’.

So, there I was, back on the main street, debating my next move: return to the castle and take advantage of the guest accommodation for the night, or explore the city and maybe grab a drink. The idea of experiencing Canterlot nightlife was tempting. For once, I had money to spare, and I was curious about what kind of drinks ponies had. But that curiosity didn’t outweigh my exhaustion.

The thought of barhopping after such a long day, only to catch the first train out in the morning, sounded like a recipe for disaster. Not that I was much of a drinker anyway—I usually only indulged at big events or the occasional small gathering.

Decision made, I headed for the castle. As I climbed the steps, the doors opened and out walked two familiar mares: Clover and Sky.

They were dressed clearly ready for a night out on the town. Clover wore a sleek black dress that hugged her form, paired with a choker adorned with a green gemstone that mirrored her coat. She moved with effortless confidence, practically radiating charisma. Sky, on the other hoof, was in a longer, more modest purple dress. Her wings twitched uncomfortably, tugging at the fabric as if she were trying to cover herself more.

“Hm?” Clover spotted me first, her eyes lighting up with a grin. “Hey, Sky. Great timing. Your colt’s back.”

Sky’s ears twitched furiously as she snapped her gaze from her dress to me.

“Oblivion? W-What are you still doing here?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but my thoughts tripped over themselves. Sky looked… different. Sure, ponies usually went around without clothes, but somehow, seeing her in that flowing purple dress, with its smooth fabric hugging her form in all the right ways, was far more… captivating. Her friend wasn’t any better; in fact, she was far worse. She was radiating a kind of allure that was impossible to ignore. It took all my last mental capacity to not show ‘mini’-me from showing up.

Coughing to hide my embarrassment, I focused on answering her question. “I missed the last train home. The next one doesn’t come until morning.”

“Ah… well, that’s unfortunate.”

An awkward silence hung between us.

“Well, have a good—” Sky started, but Clover interrupted her with a sly grin.

“Hey, handsome, want to join us?”

“Clover?!” Sky’s wings flared.

“What?” Her friend feigned innocence, though her smirk betrayed her. “We’re out to have fun tonight, and nothing says ‘fun’ like spending it with a stallion.” She shot me a wink.

“Clover, I’m not like you! I don’t ‘shack up’ with stallions on a regular basis!” Sky snapped, her cheeks reddening.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re holding out for the one.” Clover waved a dismissive hoof. “Let me tell you, girl, that kind of romance only happens in those novels you keep stashed under your bed. And even then, it’s not in your room you’re gonna find it.”

Sky stomped a hoof. “I’m not sleeping with anypony tonight!”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Clover’s tone softened slightly, her smile more encouraging now. “Just a couple drinks and then back to the castle. Relax a little, Sky. Open up your horizons. Have some fun.”

Sky sighed deeply, her wings sagging at her sides. “Only drinks.”

“Atta girl!” Clover cheered, nudging Sky with her hip. Then, she turned her attention back to me, her grin returning full force. “So, what do you say, handsome? Care to pass the time with two gorgeous mares?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass,” I said firmly.

Clover raised an eyebrow, her smirk turning curious. “Oh? Got a marefriend back home?”

I hesitated, caught off guard by the question. The image of Limestone flashed vividly in my mind: her wry smirk, the way her sharp humor matched mine, and the warmth of her presence during quiet moments on the farm. I thought about how her eyes sparkled with mischief when we bantered, how effortlessly we understood each other. My chest tightened.

Best friend? Sure. Girlfriend?

I’d told her no before, out of fear that loving me would only hurt her in the long run. But now… now I wasn’t sure I hadn’t caught the same feelings she confessed to having.

“I…” My voice faltered. Keeping it simple, I shook my head. “I don’t.”

Clover tilted her head, her grin softening as curiosity sparked in her eyes. She studied me thoughtfully for a moment before a look of realization crossed her face. “Ah… so you buck for the other team, then?” Her tone was more intrigued than anything, laced with a hint of understanding.

“If that means what I think it means? No.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one,” I said, exasperated. “I had a long day, I’m tired, and the only thing I plan to spend time with is a mattress and a pillow.”

Clover chuckled. “Can’t argue with that. At least you’ve got your priorities straight.”

“Right.”

Still, Clover leaned closer as she passed me, her voice dropping into a sultry tone. “If you ever change your mind, you know where my room is.”

I snorted softly, rolling my eyes. “Trying a little too hard there.”

“Hey, you miss all the shots you don’t take.” Clover tossed a wink over her shoulder before trotting away, her tail swishing with confidence.

Sky trotted past me, her steps quick and her head held high, but I caught the flicker of a suspicious glance in her eyes. It was almost as if she dared me to say something, to make fun of her. I kept my mouth shut, watching as she hurried to catch up with Clover.

As for me, her words lingered, replaying in my head like a taunt. Sure, I miss all the shots I don’t take. But the thought gnawed at me. What if, by taking the shot, I end up hurting the one true friend I’ve ever had?

Finding my room turned out to be easier than expected. The guest rooms were conveniently situated just a floor above the entrance, and a mare in a French maid outfit graciously provided me with directions. At this point, her outfit didn’t even faze me anymore. I'd already accepted that this was the way of this world.

Entering the room, I barely spared it a glance before my eyes locked onto the massive bed in the center. It was enormous. Easily king-sized, maybe more, and it seemed to whisper sweet nothings to my utterly drained brain. With barely a thought left, I stumbled toward it and collapsed onto the plush surface. The world faded away in mere seconds, and I was swept into the realm of sleep.

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer. Each night brought me a different story. Sometimes bizarre nonsense that faded with the sunrise, other times a sharp reminder of the problems weighing on me in my life. But the ones I hated the most weren’t nightmares in the traditional sense. They didn’t involve monsters chasing me, plummeting from the sky, or the occasional being murdered here or there. No, the worst dreams weren’t terrifying, they were… depressing.

The cast of these dreams varied, but the story rarely changed. I’d find myself surrounded by a little group of friends, indistinct but familiar. We’d be laughing, having fun, lost in the moment. I call them the ‘phasing friends’ of my life. Those you grew close to during a certain chapter: school, work, or some other stage. Yet, like chapters in a book, they always ended. One by one, they moved on, graduating, relocating, and pursuing new opportunities. The texts dwindled. The calls stopped. And before I knew it, I’d been left behind.

I wasn’t angry at them, more at myself. At my failure to take the initiative, to try harder to keep in touch. The friendships forged so easily in childhood seemed to grow impossibly rare as the years wore on. The only ‘friends’ you made as an adult were often born of convenience: connections formed to gain something, to stave off loneliness, or simply to fill the silence. So, you put on a mask.

You tell yourself that when the inevitable happens when you grow apart and move on, it won’t hurt as much. They didn’t know the real you, after all.

It helped, sometimes. It made me… forget.

Until the goddamn dreams come back. The ones that dig up everything you’d buried and make you remember. These weren’t nightmares in the traditional sense, but they were the ones I dreaded the most. Because the ache didn’t stop when you woke up.

That night, the dream returned. But this time, something was different.

I wasn’t with the usual crowd of faceless friends. I wasn’t even in my human body. Instead, I was a pony again, my hooves pressing into the dusty soil of the Rock Farm. And I wasn’t alone.

Limestone was there.

Her sharp voice cut through the air, barking out instructions as we pushed rocks across the barren field together. She’d toss out snide remarks, making jokes that didn’t always make sense, and I’d fire back with quips of my own. We’d push each other too hard, laughing until we stumbled. Somehow, we ended up tangled together in that old tent, her body warm against mine.

Then, she vanished.

The next thing I knew, I was back in my parents’ house. My old room, from before I’d moved out. The silence was deafening.

Everything was eerily untouched yet completely empty. The mess of clothes that used to litter the floor was gone. The posters and knickknacks I’d clung to for years had vanished. The room was barren, save for the bed.

I was back.

Even my human body was back. But none of it mattered, because only one thought consumed me: find my parents.

“Mom? Dad?!” I shouted into the quiet, uncaring about waking the neighbors.

I stumbled out of my room, my legs clumsy, struggling to remember how to move on two feet. My body half-jerked, half-sprinted down the hall toward my parents’ bedroom, each step echoing in the eerie quiet. The halls were empty. No family photos, no decorative plants, nothing but barren walls.

The place felt... abandoned.

I reached their door, my heart hammering in my chest, and slammed it open with a bang that echoed like a gunshot in the stillness.

“Mom? Dad?”

I stood frozen in the doorway, breath hitching. I clung to a desperate hope—a hope unlike anything I’d ever felt—that I’d find them there. That I’d see their familiar forms lying in bed, startled awake by my rude entrance, ready to scold me for shouting.

But the room was empty.

The walls were bare. The dresser, gone. The closet doors hung open to reveal nothing but dust. All that remained was a single bedframe, stripped and skeletal, like a tombstone in an unmarked grave.

A knot of dread twisted in my chest, tighter and colder than anything I’d ever known.

I staggered back, my voice rising in panic as I began searching the house, calling for them with a growing desperation. Each room I opened was the same: hollow and lifeless. The kitchen, stripped of its warmth. The living room, a shell of its former self. Not even a shadow of the life that had once filled this house remained.

I knew it was pointless. The moment I saw their empty room, I knew.

They weren’t here.

Not anymore.

I had taken too long to come home.

I was too late.

Then came a knock at the front door.

My heart surged with hope. Maybe it was them. Maybe they’d come back. Half running, half tumbling, I made my way towards the door and flung the door open.

It wasn’t my parents.

Standing there was a pony.

She was tall, far taller than any mare I’d seen. Her coat was a deep, velvety blue that seemed to drink in the dim light. And her mane… her mane flowed like a living piece of the night sky, sparkling and shifting with stars.

She had both wings and a horn, a presence so indescribable it felt like she belonged more to myth than reality. But what struck me the most were her eyes.

Those piercing teal eyes locked into mine, wide with surprise, mirroring the shock that rooted me to the spot.

“What art thou?” she asked, her voice reverberating with curiosity.

I tried to answer, but the words stuck in my throat.

And then I woke up.

The morning passed in a blur. The nightmare from the night before lingered in my thoughts, more potent than I cared to admit. I wasn’t sure if my brain was trying to send me a message, or if it was just as confused as I was. The end of that particular dream made even less sense than everything that came before it. But if there was one thing it accomplished, it was solidifying my determination: I had to find a way back home.

I grabbed my side bag, making sure the bits I had left were inside, and left my room without delay. The castle loomed behind me as I made my way out, stopping just once to buy something to eat for the trip back to the Rock Farm.

The events of the past few days—especially yesterday—made one thing painfully clear: I’d grown far too complacent. The steady routine of life with Limestone and her family had lulled me into a false sense of security, leaving me unprepared for all the troubles that awaited me when I finally left the nest.

I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

When I returned to the farm, the first thing I’d do was send that damn letter. This time, it will be delivered, I’ll make sure of it. The second? I’d stop waiting for life to happen to me. I had to act. I’d spent too much time sitting back, reacting to the chaos that came my way, letting circumstances dictate my choices. That ended now.

I wouldn’t sit idly by, hoping someone else would swoop in and solve my problems.

I would help myself.

The first step? Knowledge. When you’re lost in a world you don’t understand, information is everything. You can gain it by talking to others, traveling to places, or reading books. My problem? That last option was off the table. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the scribbled script they called writing here.

So, I’d learn.

I’d learn to read and write, no matter how long it took. That way, when—not if—I found myself alone again on my quest to return home, I wouldn’t have to rely on others to do the work for me. I wouldn’t need to be led by the hand like a helpless child.

This world may have its challenges, but I wasn’t about to let it break me.

And if this world is part of a story? Then I’ll break it.

I arrived at the train station just in time, greeted by the most colorful train I’d ever seen in my life. The locomotive was painted a vibrant pink with golden accents bordering the windows and trim. The conductor’s window? It was shaped like a freaking heart. The passenger cars weren’t any less extravagant, each one sported a pastel shade, from lavender to mint green, their roofs arched in contrasting colors. It felt like someone had taken a toy train, enlarged it, and set it on real tracks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something shift in the crowd nearby, but when I turned, there was nothing but ponies milling about and a lone piece of luggage sitting off to the side. I shook my head, brushing it off, and headed for the ticket booth to confirm my pass was valid for the trip.

A few minutes later, I was aboard. Toy-like design aside, the train’s interior was surprisingly comfortable. The seats were cushioned, while the large windows promised great views of the rolling countryside.

Just as I settled into my seat, the door to my compartment creaked open. A stallion stepped inside, struggling slightly as he carried a hefty piece of luggage clamped tightly between his teeth, his legs trembling under the apparent weight of the thing. With a soft grunt, he managed to place the bag on the floor, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Sir, your baggage,” he said, his tone professional despite the effort it had taken him.

I blinked, staring at the bag in confusion. “That’s not my—”

Before I could finish, the stallion had already exited, shutting the door behind him. I sighed, rubbing my temple. Well, it wasn’t my problem. The true owner of the baggage would figure out it was missing eventually, and they’d sort it out. For now, I turned my attention back to the window, losing myself in my thoughts as the train jolted to life and began its steady departure from the station.

That peace didn’t last long.

It was subtle at first, just a flicker in my peripheral vision. My gaze snapped to the bag. Did… did it just move? No, that had to be a trick of the light. My rational brain tried to dismiss it. But then the bag tipped over with a soft thud, and I froze.

The zipper began to slide open on its own.

“What the—”

Before I could finish, an explosion of bright pink hair puffed out of the bag. A moment later, a pony’s head emerged—a mare with an impossibly bouncy mane and an even more impossibly cheerful grin.

“Phew!” the pink mare exclaimed, shaking out her mane like a dog after a bath. “It was getting sooo stuffy in there!”

I just stared. “Y-you’re…”

“Me!” she chirped, springing out of the bag like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Pinkie Pie! Your bestest of bestest friends, remember?”

She stretched each of her legs in turn, groaning dramatically. “Ooooh, I’m gonna feel that tomorrow. Note to self: no more long naps in tight places!”

“What are you doing here?” I managed, my brain still rebooting.

Pinkie didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stuck a hoof into her mane, her tongue poking out as she rummaged through what looked like an invisible pocket. A moment later, she triumphantly pulled out a detective cap and wooden pipe, which she promptly donned.

“Well!” she began, taking a dramatic puff of the pipe, which blew bubbles, because of course it did. “I knew that if I didn’t follow you, I wouldn’t see you for a long, long, loooong time! And I’ve still got a bazillion questions to ask! Soooo…” She leaned in close, holding a hoof up to shield her mouth like she was sharing a secret. “I escaped my jailors—you know, my friends from yesterday—to come find you!”

I blinked. Then blinked again. Was I hallucinating? “What the hell… are you?”

She tilted her head, one ear flopping. “I dunno what ‘hell’ is, but I’m a pony! Obviously.”

“…I seriously doubt that.”

She waved a hoof dismissively, “Oh, everypony says that when they first meet me.” She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But don’t worry! They usually stop saying it after a while. That’s about when their eyes start getting all cloudy whenever I do something silly!” She giggled.

There was something about her—a familiarity that tugged at the edges of my mind. Now that my brain wasn’t running on fumes, I slowly began to piece it together. The pink mare. Those old photos in Limestone’s cottage, the ones I barely paid attention to at the time.

“Wait… are you the Pinkie Pie?”

“That’s me!” she said with a bounce.

“Limestone’s little sister?”

Pinkie gasped, her jaw dropping dramatically. Her eyes widened to saucers, and then, in a blur, she was practically nose-to-nose with me. “You know my sister?!” she squealed, vibrating with excitement.

I quickly leaned back, shoving a hoof between us for some personal space. “Um… yes? Your family… they, uh, sheltered me when I was lost.”

Pinkie gasped even louder, which I didn’t think was possible, and leaned back, her grin somehow growing even wider. “That’s why you smell like her! That makes so much more sense than my first guess!”

I hesitated. “Your… first guess?”

“Uh-huh!” Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “At first, I thought you were an alien from another universe, and Limestone liked you soooo much she rubbed her scent all over you to claim you as hers!”

I blinked. “What?! How—how do you even—what?”

“What?” Pinkie tilted her head innocently. “Did I say something weird?”

“Yes! All of it! How do you know any of that?!”

“Oh, that? It was just a hunch! A little sprinkle of Pinkie Sense, a dash of context clues, and voila! Nailed it! Wait…” She suddenly gasped again. “Are you telling me it’s TRUE?!”

“I—uh… ah…” My words tangled as I groaned in exasperation. “You don’t make any sense!” I finally blurted out, throwing my hooves in the air.

“I don’t?” Pinkie tilted her head, her grin unwavering. “It makes sense to me!”

She pulled out a notepad and pencil from her mane, both of which I didn’t have time to question, as she adopted a stern, investigative look. “Now, stop stalling, mister!” she declared. “I’m the detective here, and I’ve still got questions!”

What? What questions?

“Name?” she asked, her notepad already open.

“My… name?”

“Yep! You have one of those, right?”

“…Oblivion,” I muttered, still unsure how this conversation had spiraled so far off course.

Pinkie scribbled furiously with the pencil held in her mouth, nodding. “Now, the important part…” She looked at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. “When is your birthday?”

“Are you serious?”

“Very serious.”

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples. “January 25th.”

Pinkie jotted it down with a satisfied hum, pausing only to tap the pencil against her chin before carefully tucking both the notepad and pencil back into her mane.

“Right, look—actually, I was supposed to contact you,” I said, trying to steer this chaotic encounter back on track.

Her ears perked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Really?! Oh, wait!” Her expression suddenly shifted to one of pure, unbridled horror. “You never had your ‘Welcome to Equestria’ party! That’s horrible!”

“What? No! Not that.”

“You… don’t want a party?” Her lip trembled, her eyes filling with glistening tears that threatened to spill over.

I tried to push past her theatrics. “Your other sister, Maud, said you were friends with someone who could help me. She mentioned… an apprentice of a princess?”

Pinkie’s sadness evaporated instantly. “Oh! You mean Twilight?” she said, her grin returning full force.

“Twilight?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes. “As in, Twilight Sparkle?”

“Uh-huh!” she said with a cheerful nod.

“The purple unicorn?”

“Yeeep!”

“The one who was with you yesterday?”

“That’s the one!”

I slumped back into my seat, groaning. “Of course it is…”

Was the world toying with me? Of all the ponies I could have relied on, it had to be her. The one freaking pony I’d told I wasn’t an alien, the one I’d outright lied to, was now my only lead to getting back home. Fantastic. Just… fantastic. It was undoubtedly my fault—I wasn’t going to deny that—but seriously, this felt like some cruel joke.

And to top it off, I wasn’t even in Canterlot anymore. The train was already in motion, taking me farther from the only place where I might have been able to confront her directly. No. No more wallowing. I needed to act.

I turned my gaze back to Pinkie Pie. She had somehow taken a calendar out from… somewhere. It was crammed with circled dates, every page a chaotic mess of color. She was currently scribbling yet another circle around one of these dates, humming softly to herself.

“Pinkie.”

“Yes?” she chirped, glancing up at me with her ever-present grin.

“You’re friends with Twilight, right?”

“Mmm-hmm! Best friends!” she said, puffing out her chest proudly.

I glanced toward the window. “Won’t Twilight—and, uh, your other friends—start searching for you?”

“Well, I did leave a letter in the girls’ room telling them not to worry,” she said matter-of-factly. Then her expression faltered. “But they still might. I just hope Rarity isn’t angry. I really don’t want to wear that… thing again.” She shuddered dramatically, her mane quivering with the motion.

“Thing?” I asked cautiously.

“Don’t ask,” she whispered, her tone suddenly grave.

I blinked, deciding it was best not to press further. “Right… So, do you all live in Ponyville?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Pinkie exclaimed, her grin returning full force. She bounced slightly in her seat. “You have to come visit! I can show you Sugarcube Corner, the Carousel Boutique, Sweet Apple Acres—oh, oh! And we can even throw you a ‘Welcome to Ponyville and Equestria’ party!”

I barely managed to keep up with her rapid-fire enthusiasm. “Right,” I said, cutting in before she could spiral further. A plan was already forming in my head. “Tell me everything you know about Twilight, the Princess, and Ponyville.”

Her eyes lit up, and her grin somehow got wider. She tucked the calendar back into her mane and leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, you’re gonna love this!”

Author's Note

Here you go! More of the PINK ONE.

I really hope you liked it, because Pinkie will play a major role in Oblivion's journey!

Oh, and I now have a Bluesky account! I'll post periodically there to inform you how far I am in writing the next chapter and when it should drop. @solidifystories for those who are interested.

Thank you for reading!