Fallen

A suction feeling. A flicker of light. We’re on the other side of the buildings. We’re safe!
“Uuuuugghh…” Wither groaned from my back. As I sank to my knees on the gravel, he slid from my back. I saw his form shimmer for a second, then re-form as a small rodent-like creature no bigger than my ear. I blacked out from exhaustion…
And woke up in my new paddock, with a new, taller fence around me. With no researchers in sight, I saw a small ball of fur scurry up to me. It spoke in a strange squeaky voice.
“You all right, Sky?”
I nodded, surprised. “Wither?”
“Yes, this is my true form. Silly, isn’t it.” He looked himself over, then suddenly broke out in a huge grin. “I guess in my arrogance, I always go for the big, intimidating forms, don’t I?”
Wither sat on his haunches. He looked very cute. It’s hard to believe that this was the cruel all-powerful reality bender that made my life such a mess. As if in response, my no-wings twinged again.
“I have to say, Sky. I never expected you to do that. As a traveller, I’ve seen plenty of acts of kindness between mortals. I always suspected that the only reason for you doing that was to build rapport between each other, so you frail creatures can survive and coexist with each other. Selfish selflessness, I guess you could call it. I be nice to you and you’ll be nice to me, when I need it.
“You have to understand. I come from a reality rampant in reality-benders like me. These beings are corrupt with power and arrogant, and the main rule is survival of the fittest. So you get brutal reality bending battles every other day, and the weak are abused to the point of death, because our vast power corrupts us so much.
“So you can see why I decided to escape. With all my strength I tore a hole between realities and squirmed through. I travelled from world to world, seeing new sights. The twisted teachings of my brethren, that anything weaker than you is a lower being and is only meant to be used or destroyed, guided my actions. I stirred up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble.
“I see it now. You had nothing to gain and everything to lose by helping me. I had hurt you time and again, but you nevertheless refused to stand by and just watch while I faced utter obliteration.”
I was suspicious about Wither’s change of heart. “Well, that was a sudden reversal, given your behavior in the past.”
“You don’t understand me. I’m a reality bender. I’m supposed to be invincible here on these realities. Never is one such as me supposed to get into a position like that. We aren’t supposed to… die…”
He looked at me with such fear in his eyes that I realized that he was telling the truth.
“Let me make you a new offer.” Wither looked me in the eyes, head tilted to the side. “Tell me what you want most of all.”
“My wings.” I said instantly. Phantom pain flared through my imaginary wings.
He shook his head sadly. “There are some things that are easy for me to do, others that are harder. Limb replacement is… complicated. Other than having to fully comprehend the exact dimensions and connections of the musculature, skeleton, and tendons of the physique, I’d have to re-create your missing nerves, which are a pain and can go horribly wrong, as well as be able to re-create matter in the first place. The law of conservation of mass is a bitch, and it’s there in pretty much any reality.
“Besides, I’m nowhere near full strength. I guess it might take a century, and I don’t suppose you ponies live that long. No? Oh. And I can’t really time-travel too far or the continuum will start to reject me and snap me back. The farthest I can manage at a time is about a decade, and consecutive time-leaps don’t really work. It gets exponentially more difficult the farther I travel. Don’t ask. It’s complicated.”
I didn’t. These things sounded really complicated.
“But, I can do this.” He waved his hands, and a shimmering aura in the exact shape of my wings appeared on my stumps.
“I don’t see how–“
“Look, I know a thing or two about psychology, and I can at least ease your phantom pain; it looks like it’s bothering you.”
A jolt lanced through my non-wings. I nodded.
“What I want you to do, is bend them in in your mind. Concentrate on it. Remember how it feels to move them in, and out. Up and down. Curl your wings at the tips and ruffle your feathers. Look at your wings!”
I did, and as I thought of the movements and stretched non-existent muscles, the spectral wings moved. With a wave of relief, the pain ceased.
“Oh, thank you!” I said happily, and the illusion disappeared.
“It’s the least I can do to help,” Wither said.
I thought for a minute. “How are your transportation skills?”
“I have enough energy to send you back to Equestria. Is that what you want?”
I nodded enthusiastically at firs, but then I remembered. “Isn’t Equestria just some fantasy show on T.V.? It’s not real.”
“Well, yes. On many of the Earths it is. But what this Dr. Bright fails to understand is the theory of separate realities, which exist independently of each other, yet are born of multiple thoughts, possibilities, and turnings in the path of time. For instance, remember the story of the missing ore?”
“Yes,” I remembered my parents telling me of it, “For want of some ore, the iron was missed. For want of the iron, the horseshoe was missed. For want of the horseshoe, the war-pony was missed. For want of a war-pony, the battle was missed. For want of a battle, the victory was missed. For want of a victory, the kingdom was missed. And all for want of some ore.”
“Well, suppose that the ore was in the blacksmith’s pocket all along. There are two possibilities for this outcome: the smith finds the ore and thus the kingdom was saved, or he misplaces it and the kingdom is lost. Both are very real, and happen at the same time. But not the same place. You just witnessed the birth of a separate reality. Within both, the inhabitants are convinced that their history is the true history, without knowing that, at the same time, there is also a history for which the alternative happened. Get the point?”
“Yeeeesss…” I was still confused at this, but I let him keep going.
“This also happens to your dreams and imagination. With each imaginary world, there also exists a separate reality, parallel but never touching, to your own. It happens whenever a story is written, or a play is directed, or whenever you dream. But the realities with the most attention, the worlds that live in the most hearts, have the most impact on the entirety of the web of realities. Thus, through its massive fanbase, your Equestria is very real. Dr. Bright does not know this, in fact, no one knows but the reality travellers, like me. This is because separate realities, while close to each other, never touch, physically, nor by magic, nor by any way of perceiving.
“So your Equestria is as real as this Earth, the original Earth, and any other reality. You know how I told you that this is the wrong Earth? Well, that’s because the SCP Foundation is just a series of creative writing pieces on the Internet of original Earth.
“So, I ask you once again, would you like to return to your home?”
I nodded. I knew that, even though flight would be forever lost to me, there is always something to live for. Like when I was chased in the jungle, I knew that the sky would welcome me. And when I broke my wing, my friends found me and made me discover that there was always hope.
“Very well then. And, to avoid turmoil, I shall stay here while I regain my powers. I think, I shall take this form, so nothing will be missed.” He shimmered, then I stared at a duplicate of myself in his place.
“I shall be the new SCP-042, and send you on home, alright?”
“Thanks.” I said.
“Goodbye, Sky. Thank you!” he waved, and then the world shimmered, making me black out.

I woke up in the Everfree, entangled in a bush. I inhaled, rejoicing in the feel of my world. It feels so… right. My state of bliss was interrupted by some familiar voices…
“Green, what on earth got you so worked up?” It was Adamant. He sounded weary and sad.
“Shush, Adam. I sense something!”
They stepped into sight. They stared into my eyes and I stared into theirs. I smiled in simple joy of being home. As we embraced in happiness, I almost forgot that I had no wings.
For I may be simply sitting here, grounded, but in my heart I was soaring. High, high above.