Wings of Adventure

Wings of Adventure

Chapter 2- Outfitting

Fifteen minutes later

        Having extirpated myself from the clutches of my traitorous bedsheets, and meeting with minimal success in experimenting with my new wings, I now found myself sat on the floor in the middle of my room, said limbs... were they even classified as limbs?... still awkwardly half-extended, wondering what to do next.

        “Okay... recap. Assess the situation,” I chided myself. Do what Twilight would do- make a list. ...actually, maybe she’d just skip to panic here.

        I shook my head, banishing the thought from my mind. But that’s one thing the two of you don’thave in common.

        “Anyway...” I continued, tapping my forehooves together as I gathered my thoughts. “Let’s see. Day one. Lauren Faust and Tara Strong turn into the Princesses, call press conference. Warn that more people will turn into ponies each day, and those that end up as the Mane 6 need to meet them in New York. Calendar suddenly and inexplicably changes to have three hundred sixty-five days in each week... and people seem to just go along with it.”

Gee, I wonder who was responsible for that one... I paused with an eyeroll and a huff. “What else... anti-pony group with predictably uncreative name forms, one of said goons tries to shoot Fluttershy, ends up giving her the Element of Kindness instead...”

        “...and now I get dragged into this can of worms. So... now what?”

        In retrospect, maybe it was a silly question. Even as I asked it, I knew the answer. Yet, in the same moment, so too did the full magnitude of the task ahead begin to make itself clear as well. My limbs felt like lead (especially the wings) and my heart seemed to drop into my stomach as dread washed over me.

Discord. Nothing else makes sense. And he’s not messing around this time. Lauren was calling the Elements together for some epic final showdown. Meanwhile, the world as we know it is unravelling, and by the time the six of them get there all Tartarus is going to break loose. She may have asked for them specifically, but they’re going to need all the help they can get. And I’m in way over my head.

        With a greater sigh than my human lungs had ever mustered, my eyes drifted once again to the fedora, still untouched since my mini panic attack.

Sounds like business as usual for Daring though.

        It took the better part of a minute for that last line to sink in. As I slowly realized just what I’d been thinking, the nausea and the weight in my bones burned away, dread replaced by righteous indignation.

        “Listen to yourself,” I fumed, jumping up and snatching the hat from its resting place, turning it over in my hooves a few times before continuing. “You ended up with Daring Do, the Equestrian Indiana Jones. She’s practically made a living of ruining Ahuizotl’s plans. Maybe Discord can actually give her a challenge.”

You can do this. You have to.

        That grin of hers finally found its way to my face as the hat found its way atop my head. “Hey, still fits.”

        So, they needed my help. The only question now was how best to provide it. It seemed a waste to go straight to New York and wait for all the Elements to get there, as they wouldn’t be able to do much of anything until they had all six. I’d probably get there in an hour anyway with these wings. Then again, at the very least they might know where else I could be useful.

Oh yeah... flying. Gotta work on that before I can get out of here. ...that and explain why Milo’s been ‘replaced’ by a sentient winged equine. Right. Greeeat.Thankfully, the facehoof that followed that thought failed to bruise my face any more than my rude awakening had. The last thing I needed this morning was more head trauma.

        I’d been a Brony for roughly a year by this point. My parents had no idea. I knew they wouldn’t understand. Even if they didn’t get mad or anything, I’d just get weird looks forever, and mom might try sending me to a shrink.

        Either way, they definitely wouldn’t cope well with their only son suddenly changing species... and gender.

Yeeeeaahhh, let’s try not to think about that bit for now, I added, shifting uncomfortably.

“Then again,” I admitted, failing to hold back another unenthusiastic smirk,” And I can’t believe I’m saying this... but it looks like waking up as the opposite sex isn’t the biggest of my worries right now... and it’s only going to drop further down the list until this whole mess gets cleaned up.”

My new body chose that moment to inform me that its reconstitution had left its stomach rather empty.

        Finally I laughed.

        Daring had a beautiful laugh.

        Not the ‘in the face of danger’ laugh I was sure she’d elevated to an art form. An honest, happy laugh that she would seldom if ever find room for on the job. A full, hearty laugh that filled the room and your heart, melting away your worries and leaving you sure that all was right with the world. It might have been infectious had it not come from my own throat. I barely realized it had.

        But, I had little time to wax poetic just then, as my stomach continued to voice its displeasure.

        “Well,” I finally managed, trailing off into a fit of chuckles, “Strike one. Dang, I am hungry. Guess I’ll be getting a decent breakfast for once.”

Despite my brief practice session, I was still a bit unsteady on four legs. I’d taken to it right away after getting untangled from my sheets, walking halfway across the room without realizing what I was doing. Thus I came to the conclusion that the less I thought about the action itself, the better. The muscle memory just wasn’t there yet, though, leaving me slightly wobbly for the moment.

Minor handicap notwithstanding, soon enough I reached the door. Thankfully I had left it open just a crack the night before, so my first epic fingerless struggle with a doorknob could wait. Silently thanking whatever providence had prevented me from creating one more obstacle for myself that morning, I nudged it open and took a first step onto the bare concrete of the basement floor with a clear, resounding...

Clop.

        ...quickly followed by the sound of rustling fabric from the alcove under the stairs, just ten feet ahead.

        I froze. Oh Scheiße. Vik.

        Viktor, my German Shepherd. My dog, not the family’s. I’d bought him as a puppy with what had been my life’s savings at the time, his papers were in my name, and from day one I’d paid all his expenses.

        And my dad hated him.

        Now, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t get me wrong, the big guy was likely the friendliest member of his breed alive... but he was still protective of his master’s house and might not take so kindly to a strange creature appearing therein. And in my current state he would almost certainly place me in that category.

        I’d jumped the first pitfall and waltzed right into the dart trap. Now I just had to dodge. Heck, even Daring didn’t have to brave the hallway of death before breakfast.

        At least I hoped she didn’t. Otherwise I might be in for a lot of unpleasant karma in the coming days.

Figures Strike Two would be the doozy.

        Precious few moments passed before my ill-timed musings were once again interrupted, though this time by a far more sinister growling, as an all-too-familiar dark brown canine face poked around the corner, inquisitive as ever yet clearly on guard. Just as quickly, he made his move. With a single, terse bark, he leapt at me.

        Next thing I knew, I had already flung my forelegs up to shield my face, and he... was still barking? From... below me?

        Slowly, hesitantly, I allowed one eye to open and hazard a downward glance. Sure enough, I found Viktor directly beneath me, paws firmly on the floor, yapping away, now in his typical playful tone. Instantly my fear evaporated in favor of reflexive annoyance.

        Now my hooves were thrown over my head in disgust. “Ugh! Oh for... Viktor! Nein! Verschließen!”

        Yeah, I give my German Shepherd commands in German. Don’t judge me. Anyway, that one, loosely translated? ‘Shut yer trap’. My usual response when he’d suddenly start barking at seemingly nothing.

Apparently I caught him off-guard; in spite of, or possibly because of, the fact that the familiar command had come from an unfamiliar creature with an unfamiliar voice, he quickly did as he was told and sat back on his haunches, staring up at me with his head tilted to one side in confusion.

It was at that point that all these facts caught up with me. “Wait... why did you... how am I- buh,” I blubbered, my irises likely shrinking to their former human size as realization dawned. My head whipped around to find I’d just been given a crash course in Daring’s honed (if you’ll pardon the pun,) fight-or-flight response.

I was currently doing the latter.

I suppose I should be grateful that my brain shut down for a minute there. I probably would have dropped on Viktor if I were to inadvertently sabotage my temporary autopilot by giving it any conscious thought. Thankfully, I was able to keep ignoring it and let my flight muscles do their thing once I rebooted.

Having calmed down, I turned back to Vik, finding him unmoved and sniffing in my direction.

For a moment I just stared at him, not understanding. “Oh! Wait,” I chuckled at last, taking off my hat and holding it down from him to get a good whiff of my human scent which undoubtedly still clung to it. One quick sniff and a happy bark later, his tail was wagging and his tongue lolling out of his panting mouth as he gazed up at me once again.

I sighed, at once exasperated and relieved as I hovered down just enough to reach a hoof between his ears and start scratching. “Why did I get so worked up over you, ya big softie?” I smiled.

So maybe Daring had to face some crazy odds in her line of work. Maybe whatever curses were involved in all the ancient temples and artifacts she had to deal with had rubbed off on her and she had some bad juju to burn off. But none of it ever seemed to slow her down. She got through it all the same.

And this adventure was bound to be especially interesting.

...Bring it on, Mr. Chaos.