Chapters The Longest Journey: Equestrian Edition
Prologue: A Lion is in the Streets
"So, you've come to hear me tell a story, have you?"
Despite her withered state, the old earth pony's eyes sparkled with the life that still burned steadily inside her. She leaned back in her rocking chair and looked down at the three foals lying curled up on the rug before her, coats glowing in the firelight and eyes lit up with wonder.
A little pegasus colt bounced up and managed to hover a few inches in the air despite the unevenness of his wing-beats. "Yes! You've been around such a long time, I'm sure you've seen a lot of neat things."
His neighbor, a unicorn filly with a similar coat color to his, stood up and swatted him on the back of the head as he hovered closer to her. When he scowled at her, she shook her head at him. "Mind your manners. Mama said so," she scolded. She placed her hooves on her hips and scowled right back at him.
The pegasus's muzzle turned red and he snapped his wings shut, dropping to the floor with a thud. He sat down and crossed his forelegs firmly over his chest. With his bottom lip stuck out and a frown on his face, he glared down at the rug and ignored the now smug filly beside him.
The mare's laugh sounded eerily similar to a bellows in desperate need of patching, but the contagious joy it contained was still evident. "Now, don't worry—It's true that I am an old mare, but I've lived a long and fulfilling life. I do have some stories to tell."
The pegasus looked up at her and smiled. He unfolded his body and lay down on his belly, propping his head on his hooves. He looked up at her and waited, swinging his hind legs idly.
"What story would you like to hear?" she asked, leaning forward until she was eye level with her audience.
"A true story." The unicorn replied before her brother could even open his mouth.
He squinched up his nose and stuck his tongue out at her.
The mare chuckled and patted the filly's head. "All my stories are true. There are enough fairy tales in the worlds already without me adding to them."
"Tell us the story of the Balance then." The earth pony, who had remained silent up until now, looked at her elder with a mild expression as she finally spoke. Ever since the three young ponies had entered the old storyteller's cabin, her eyes had not once strayed from the older mare.
The mare shook her head and a few wisps of white hair escaped from the bun she had bound her mane into. "That is a long story, and not one I'd venture to tell at this hour."
While the other two foals groaned in protest, the young earth pony merely narrowed her eyes slightly, still holding her blank expression. Her eyes shifted as she looked over the older mare from head to hoof. One corner of her mouth pulled down a little.
The mare sighed. She smiled again, but this time it did not reach her eyes. "Perhaps I can tell you a story that I heard a long, long time ago..." She looked past the fillies into the fire burning in its flue without really seeing the flames. "A story that became a crucial turning point in the history of the Balance and that set in motion wheels that, to this day, are still turning."
The earth pony nodded, inclining her head almost imperceptibly so that she could keep her stare locked onto the storyteller's face. Her two companions tittered with excitement.
The old mare shut her eyes and pulled the shawl she wore tighter around her neck. "This story, like all good stories, begins where it ends: in a tower, in a realm that is no more..."
The sound of stone grinding against stone filled the inner chamber of the tower as the two dragon-shaped disks grated across each other. Each figure chased the other's tail in an endless cycle, always in sync, one never gaining on the other. The windows of the chamber were little more than a lacework of thin interconnected stone tracery, and were set to face one another across the room. Were any weather to occur in this place, the detailed frescos on the walls would soon be ruined. Though an untold number of years had passed, they still looked as fresh as the day they were painted. Time held no real sway here. There was no dust in this ancient place, and the columns holding up the ceiling were unblemished.
Hanging from the very center of the ceiling was an odd structure that faintly resembled a seashell. Pure white light poured from the inner lining of the shell, and tendrils of energy danced across its surface. Within the column of light a figure hung suspended in the air, head flung back and limbs dangling uselessly at his sides, the light flowing through his body and pinning him in place like an insect on a card. It had bled the color from his body over a millenium ago, erasing his distinguishing features until only a mere caricature of a pony remained. The only colors left on his frame were caused by the beams of light, one red, one blue, from the two opposing windows. Despite his odd position and the bright lights, the figure appeared to merely be sleeping, his face as calm and relaxed as the rest of him. For over a hundred years he had remained here undisturbed as he performed his eternal duty.
The sleeper's eyes opened. Were one to look into those newly revealed lenses, one would find themselves lost in the swirl of galaxies that lay within his sightless eyes and be burned away entirely by the power they contained. There was no one there to look; he was alone as he'd always been. Slowly, the color of his eyes returned to normal as the energy left his body and he slowly drifted closer to the floor. He stood up, legs shaking slightly after so many years of disuse, but pressed on through his weakness. Without even a backwards glance, the guardian left his post.
For a while the chamber remained the same, as if slow to take notice of his absence. Then a loud click reverberated through the room; the light beam stuttered and one of the dragons leaped forward, seizing its brother's tail in its mouth. For the first time since its creation, the tower was empty.
Despite the dull roar of the air transport vehicles flying overhead, April Rain slept soundly; at least for a while. Within her dreams the familiar walls of her tiny bedroom fell away. The sheet-less mattress on which she lay to escape the summer heat soon joined it. Forced into an upright position, she looked around at the alien landscape her subconscious had created. She found herself standing on a cliff, bathed in the yellow-orange glow of a magnifient sunrise. Down below the land was enveloped in fog, its geography indistinct. Large towers of rock poked up through the fog randomly, their forms twisted and riddled through with holes.
Sighing she sat down and put her face in her hooves. "Oh no, don't tell me I'm dreaming again," she muttered to herself. "You know for once—just once—it would be nice to get a decent night's sleep without waking up screaming from a bad dream at four A.M." She looked down at herself and realized she was still in her undies—so not appropriate. Standing up, she took in the sights again—the postcard-worthy scenery, the pristine dawn, and... the huge storm brewing in the distance. Even the weather stank in her dreams. How charming.
April turned around and walked away from the edge of the cliff. Almost immediately the ground began to shake and she flailed around a bit trying to stay upright. The tremor shook a large oblong egg loose from a nearby nest. She gasped as it rolled towards the edge, only to be caught at the last moment by a root protruding from the cliff face. She sighed. Even though she hated reptiles, if she didn't rescue the egg she'd probably end up with seven years of bad karma or something. Lying down on her stomach as close to the edge as she was willing to go, she reached out for the egg. Straining, she found that she could tap it with one hoof, but it was too far away to get a good grip on it with both her forelimbs. Sitting up, she scanned the area for an object that might move the egg closer to her.
Inspecting the nest, she found that it was lined with long, white scales bigger than any she had ever seen before. It would probably be best if she left before the tenants returned. Touching one, she was surprised to find it cool to the touch. She rolled it around in her hooves, inspecting it. The surface of the scale was smooth, even slippery to the touch. A fine mist rose from it, as if the entire scale were made of dry ice. The upturned edges were wickedly sharp—she winced as she cut the frog of her hoof across the edge. Luckily the wound was not deep enough to draw blood, but it still stung. She feared she might accidentally damage the egg if she tried to use the scale to extend her reach. Licking the wound, she stuck the scale in her pocket*. At least it would make a nice souvenir.
She turned her attention to the old tree standing beside the nest, likely the owner of the twisted roots currently standing between the giant lizard egg and its plummet to certain doom. The tree was dry as a bone and the leaves were withered. A forked branch jutted out from the tree; it looked to be about the right size to be useful. She snapped it off and put it in her pocket with the scale.
The tree groaned in pain.
The mare jumped back with a gasp as a face made of green light formed on the surface of the tree.
Though the mouth did not move, she could hear the tree as it 'spoke' to her. "Oh the suffering we must endure," the tree complained in a low monotone.
April blinked and shook her head. Only one thought came to mind. "W-what?"
The face did not change, but she could feel it looking at her. "Why do you take such pleasure in torturing us?"
The mare tried to get her thoughts in order and adapt to her situation. After all, talking to inanimate objects was not something she did on a daily basis. "Torturing you? Who are you?"
"We are the voices of all trees, the spirit of wood and leaf." Despite the flatness of the tree's voice, it still managed to sound smug.
She blinked. "So you're a talking... tree?"
The tree sighed. "No. A tree does not talk, at least not in your tongue. The tongue of trees is the language of wood, root, and leaf."
"Who are you then?"
If a glowing ball of light could give her the hairy eyeball, the tree would be doing so. It spoke as if addressing a small child. "Like we said, we are the voice of all trees. Whenever an injustice is done, we must speak for the tree if we are present."
A thought dawned on her. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "It was the branch. I shouldn't have broken the branch off. I'm sorry."
The tree merely sighed and brushed aside her apology. "Oh what does it matter anyway. There is nothing to be done for us. We are merely here to provide comfort in its passing."
'This conversation is getting depressing in a hurry. Time to change the subject,' April thought. "What's with this 'we' talk? I only see one of you."
"We are one with our host, as we are one Spirit, but our number is legion."
The mare frowned and blinked a couple of times. "Uh, yeah... thanks for clearing that up." 'Why can't he just give me a straight answer?'
"We do not expect you to understand. You are only a pony."
April narrowed her eyes at his condescending tone. 'Just let it go, April,' she told herself. "What happened to the tree?"
"Oh the pain! As the battle raged we-"
"Whoa, hold on." She held up her hooves to make a 'time out' sign. "What battle?"
"Between the Mother and black Chaos. She was only protecting her child, but the enemy would not back down and the force of their battle shook the mountain. The brook that fed us was lead astray, and we were left to wither and die." Somehow the spirit managed to sound condescending and depressed at the same time.
"So, what's the deal with the egg?"
"Egg, what e-oh of course. The child. When the Mother is absent, we look after the child. But now, without water, we can do nothing to help bring the child safely home. We have failed the Mother, and we despair. Our shame knows no bounds."
'He certainly has a flair for melodrama.' "Isn't there anything I can do to help?"
The spirit scoffed. "We do not expect a pony to come to our aid."
April narrowed her eyes and stomped a hoof. "Lose the attitude, okay? Just tell me what I need to do."
"It is futile. We need water, but there is none. The final passing is coming. Leave us be." The face faded back into the tree.
April rolled her eyes.
Pricking her ears, she could hear the sound of running water nearby. Trotting around the tree, she came across a large stone blocking her path. Water flowed across an indentation in the stone surface before falling into a narrow gap between the rock and the cliff. The edges of the cut were clean and the interior surface was free of moss—it was a recent fracture. Barely six inches of space kept the water away from the plant that depended on it.
She stared at it for a while, head a little to the side as she analyzed the problem. A spark of creativity had her smiling and reaching into her pocket for the objects that she had placed in it earlier. A little quick hoof-work and she had the scale secured in the crook of the branch, a makeshift funnel. Grinning broadly, she carefully stuck the end of the stick into the soft ground and made a little bridge for the water to cross. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork as the brook returned to its original course.
The effect was almost immediate. A pale blue light raced along the tree's roots and up into its trunk. New leaves sprung to life, unfurling to their full glory in mere seconds. It brought a whole new meaning to the term 'instant rehab'. Chest puffed a bit, she made her way back around the tree and sat down in front of it.
Nothing happened.
She frowned. "Hello?"
No response.
April put her ears back and glared at the unresponsive lump of wood. "Hey!" she shouted.
The green face flickered back into existence. "Leave us be," it said simply. "We have no time for idle conversation. We must drink, and rejoice."
The mare crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the spirit. "Aren't 'we' forgetting something?" She jerked her head in the direction of the precariously perched egg.
"Hush! Listen. The sound of ancient wood. Is it not sweet?" Perhaps there was more than just water in that stream...
April rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sweet, definitely. I bet the baby's ready to boogie down as well."
"The baby? Oh the egg! We almost forgot."
April gasped as the root holding the egg shifted and the precious cargo dropped out of sight. As she ran over to look, its root rose into the air, cradling the egg gently and placing it back into the nest where it belonged. The mare went over to look at it, and was relieved to see that is was undamaged.
She reached out to touch it... and caught sight of a large white object as it flashed past the corner of her left eye. Backing up slowly, the mare watched, slack-jawed, as the huge creature landed on its nest and nuzzled the egg affectionately. The beast was huge, dwarfing its egg to an almost a comical extent.
The creature was obviously reptilian, though its white-scaled features were hard to distinguish through the mist swirling and clinging to the beast like a second skin. The eyes alone stood out, blindingly white and crackling like lighting. The creature looked her over carefully. No, not just looked; it felt as if it were peering into her very soul. Her legs trembled and she stamped at the ground. Still, she did not run. For some reason she felt drawn to this monster.
The beast bared its teeth, making April roll her eyes with terror. She managed not to scream and rear, but it was a close call. Then it spoke, and she froze. It was like nothing she'd heard before. It was layered, like several voices talking at once. Within it she heard a gentle breeze and the sound of wind chimes, and yet it also contained the roar of the thunder and the sharp whistle of the wind in a mountain snowstorm.
"It is you. You have come," the creature said.
Her heart lept into her throat, making it hard to respond. She managed to squeeze out a few words. "Y-you know me?"
"April Rain. Daughter. I have been waiting for you."
April froze, and time seemed to slow down with her as she stared into the eyes of the beast before her. "Waiting... why?" She stuttered.
"Because it begins here, with you. As it always has."
"What do you mean?" April asked. Somehow, in the pit of her stomach, she felt that she wouldn't like the answer.
"The breach and the mending, the pain and the joy, the end of the old and the dawn of the new. A different world." The creature placed a paw on its chest, then reached out until it touched April with the tip of its claw as it continued to speak. "I am the mother of what is, but you—you are the mother of a future that may yet be."
April looked up into the creature's eyes, searching for answers in its unwavering gaze. "How will I know? How will I know what to do?" Her tone was weak, almost pleading as she did her best to stay calm.
The creature smiled at her, and the light in its eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly. "I will guide you and I will protect you as best as I can. But in the end, you are on your own." Daintily, it reached out again and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
April stared at her hooves, unable to maintain eye-contact. "I'm afraid," she whispered.
Its expression softened, and it patted her ever so gently. "You always were, my child, my daughter." It sat back and opened its arms to her, twitching its fingers and smiling at her.
The mare hesitated for a moment, then took a halting step forward. A strange rumbling sound echoed in the distance, causing the two figures to stiffen. As the sound came closer, the Mother wrapped her body protectively around her egg, hiding her head in the nest.
April Rain did not hide. Something drew her to the edge of the cliff. She peered cautiously over the edge... and fell back as the source of the noise flew up to meet her. While the being that lay huddled on its nest was white and oddly beautiful, this thing was its polar opposite. An inky black swirling mess churned before her, crackling with blue lightning. Though it had no distinguishing features, she found herself far more terrified of it than she had even been before. She was frozen in place, unable to move even though every synapse in her brain screamed at her to run. The middle of the blob opened like a twisted flower, and a small pulse of lightning flew at her. It picked her up like a leaf and blew her off the edge of the cliff, and down towards the distant ground below.
All she could do was scream.
Author's Note
* For the sake of pants-less ponies everywhere, adventure games in general, and my own sanity we're going to pretend that the characters in this story all have bottomless pockets... somewhere.
It still amazes me that one of the greatest PC games of all time has yet to be crossed over with one of the greatest TV shows of all time. This is my attempt to remedy that. The AU tag exists because the history of Equestria and some of its residents have been altered to fit in with the crossover. This story will start out similar to the game, but will diverge slightly as the story continues, hopefully without damaging the pure epicness of the original tale. I won't include all the puzzles, just the ones that seem to have a significant impact on the story.
With thanks to nothingtoseehere for his awesome editing skills.
Currently seeking a prereader who is familiar with the game to make sure I'm not ruining the epicness.
The Longest Journey: Equestrian Edition
Chapter 1: Penumbra Part 1
With a strangled squeak April Rain rolled off the edge of her mattress and crashed headfirst into the unforgiving hardwood floor. Groaning, she sat up slowly and rubbed the quickly forming knot on her forehead. It was a good thing that there weren't any sheets on the bed due to the summer heat—otherwise she’d be busy trying to untangle herself from them right now.
Though it was mid-morning, the lighting in the room was quite muted. Sunlight had to struggle to make its way past the large apartment complex adjacent to the tiny two-story boarder house she lived in. It also explained why the ‘garden’ she had been trying to grow on the windowsill to lower her expenses had never panned out—well that and her tendency to kill any houseplants she got her hooves on. Despite the lack of direct sunlight and the early hour, it was already ghastly hot in her room. She frowned up at the old rusted hunk of metal that passed for a ceiling fan as it made a halfhearted attempt to turn.
At least the studio had air conditioning. She had promised herself that she’d spend all of today working. VAVA's art show was only two weeks away and she had nothing to display. It was time to get a move on. April ran a hoof through her mane and grimaced at how greasy it felt. Her hide was soaked with sweat, as was her undergarments. “I probably should shower and get dressed first,” she said to herself.
Throwing on her robe and grabbing a change of clothes from the closet, she headed out the door and down the hall to the communal bathroom. Luckily it was unoccupied. She turned on the shower and was hit with a hot blast of water. Fiddling with the shower knob didn't make the water any cooler, so she scrubbed herself clean as quickly as she could. By the time she got dressed she felt like a boiled lobster. Maybe a little breakfast would help her feel better.
“Hey, babe.” A male voice called to April, bringing the mare’s journey to the first floor to a halt.
She gritted her teeth and did her best to resist the urge to smash her head against the nearest wall. She turned to the stallion and addressed him as civilly as she could. “What do you want, Zack?”
The stallion in question was named Zack Lee. He lived across the hall from April—and was the bane of her existence. He leaned against the door to his apartment and leered at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “It sure is hot today babe, and I’m not talking about the weather.” He looked her over a bit before his eyes settled on her flank. “Hmm… I see that you’re fresh out of the shower.”
April struggled to keep a neutral expression. “Zack, I've got to run and-“
“What’s going on, April? How you been?” He made no move to make eye contact with her.
She tried to smile at him, but only managed to bare her teeth. “I’m pretty good. How are you?”
He grinned at her and ran a hoof through his greased-back mane. He puffed out his chest to show off the low-cut shirt he was wearing and the toned, brown chest beneath it. “I feel fantastic with you around. Listen, April, how about you and me get together sometime soon? Like tonight? The Pavilion is really cooking this week. We could pop some Raptures, do a little close dancing, and come back to my place for a little fun." He moved a few steps closer until he stood next to her. He slung a hoof over her shoulder. "How about it?”
April sidestepped and slipped out of his grip. “Let me think about it.”
The smile slipped from his face a little and he finally looked her in the eye. “Sure, you can think about it. Just don’t take too long, or I’ll be gone. There are other birds in the sea. I've got to go, but you know where to find me when you change your mind.” With a flick of his tail, the stallion disappeared into his room and shut the door behind him.
April Rain stared at the door as she counted silently in her head. Finally she turned and headed downstairs. “What an asshole.”
Following her nose, April made her way to the kitchen and flopped down at the table. She lay her head down on it and sighed heavily. A cream-colored hoof pushed a bowl of oatmeal in front of her. “Thanks, Fiona,” she said, smiling at her landlady.
The older mare smiled back at her before grabbing a bowl of her own and sitting down next to her tenant. “Had another run in with Zack today, did we darling?”
April grunted.
Fiona chuckled, but sobered quickly and patted April on the shoulder. “You should really stay away from him, dear. He likes the thrill of the chase. Those ones never settle down.”
“Why don’t you kick him out?” April flashed her teeth in a feral grin.
“You know I can’t do that. He hasn't done anything specifically against the rules, even if he does bring a few mares home now and then. That stallion has some connections despite his playcolt attitude. Plus… he’s not very good at picking up mares to begin with.”
They both laughed at that.
Fiona stopped first, and looked at April critically. “That’s not what’s really bothering you, is it? Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”
April sighed. “I had a bad nightmare.”
“Again? Well, you’re not the only one, darling. Mickey woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. She wouldn't go back to sleep until I made her a cup of herbal tea.”
The younger mare blinked. “Mickey’s been having nightmares?”
Fiona nodded. “Apparently she is, though she refused to tell me what they were about. I think she’s embarrassed.”
April thought of the middle-aged mare. Mickey was twice the age of Fiona and served as a pillar to support their mismatched household. She was as solid as a rock and unflappable in any disaster. “That doesn't sound like Mickey.”
The older mare nodded, brow furrowed. “I know, darling. Don’t tell her I said so, but I've never seen her more agitated in my life. She scared the hell out of me.”
April nodded. ‘What can I possibly say that would help? ’ she thought. She decided the best answer was to remain silent.
The older mare did not let the silence last for very long. “Why don’t you just tell Zach that you like mares? It worked for Mickey and me.” Fiona winked at her.
April smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Lying wouldn't work. It only worked for you because you and Mickey prove that it’s the truth every day,” she said, then paused to look around the kitchen. “Where is Mickey anyways? Or everyone else for that matter?”
“I imagine you noticed the water problem this morning?” the cream-coated mare asked.
The younger mare nodded.
“Mickey’s down in the basement, up to her barrel in that filthy canal water trying to get the pipes fixed. She’ll be tied up for a while. Mind you, she’s not literally tied up—although that is a tempting thought.” Fiona grinned and licked her lips.
April sighed and rubbed her temples before looking at the other mare critically. “Are we getting into your sexual fantasies here, Fiona? Because it’s a little too early in the morning for that, don’t you think?”
The landlady giggled like a little filly. “Sorry dear, I can’t help myself. Charlie’s still sleeping, and Emma just went to bed. I saw her come in while I was making breakfast. Do you know who she’s seeing now?”
April shrugged. “I don’t know. Some guy. I don’t really keep track anymore.”
Fiona frowned and slammed a hoof into the table, making the other mare jump. “She’s too good for those arseholes. I wish she’d find a stallion who’d treat her right for once.”
The young mare shook her head. “ I've tried talking to her, but Emma’s… impulsive. She doesn't listen.” She sighed and toyed with the spoon she was holding, no longer interested in eating.
“She’s just as headstrong as you and me, darling. She’s smart and resourceful, and not afraid to speak up for herself. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” The older mare smiled impishly. “Now about your own love life…”
April popped up out of her chair like her tail was on fire. “ I've got to get to the studio. There’s a lot of work to do. Goodbye, Fiona. Thanks for the food. I’ll see you later.” She dumped her bowl in the sink and headed out the door, followed closely by Fiona’s gleeful cackling.
April didn't slow down until she was safe outside the boarder house. She frowned at the building. Usually, the large mural painted across the front of the building made her feel better, but today she was too irritated to be soothed by its calming forest of greens and browns. It was the one thing that had drawn her to this tiny building—she'd stumbled across it after running away from home some months before. It was fairly inexpensive as well, a factor made obvious by its location right on Newport’s waterways.
Once upon a time, the little Newport district was hailed as the world’s ‘New Venice’, and was home to a thriving community of wealthy entrepreneurs. It was a draw for tourists, who came from all around the world to ride little gondolas around its waterways. Perhaps ‘Venice’ was a good name for the place, since it followed the same path of decline as the original. It started when the Excel Corporation decided to pull up roots and move their production facilities to a new city a few generations back. Without the only mega-corporation in the area around to provide jobs, the economy went down the tubes in a hurry. As the city went into bankruptcy and the infrastructure fell into disrepair, the tourism dried up as well. The formerly scenic waterways were now putrid and brown, choked with rust and waste. Those who could afford to move relocated to the city’s maze of tall high rise buildings, poking up through the low-lying layer of smog that shrouded the city where they were well out of reach of the foul odors emanating from the polluted water far below. The poorer folk that moved into the old, dilapidated buildings that had been left behind could only do their best to hold their breaths and push on. Now in the heat of an Indian summer, the stench was especially bad.
April coughed and wrinkled her nose. It was something she’d never get used to. Sighing, she headed across the rusted old bridge that connected the boarder house to the ‘central axis’, a rotunda of interconnected walkways, one of which lead to the studio. As she crossed the bridge, the echo of her hooves caused the old stallion who was sitting on the bench next to the bridge to look up.
“Oye, señorita!”
She looked at the reddish brown stallion and sighed. Cortez was one of the last ponies she wanted to see right now. His rambling stories and philosophical talk was quite draining and her energy was low to begin with. “Yes?”
“How are you this morning, señorita bonita?” He smiled at her.
“I’m fine, and you?” April found his unwavering stare was a little disconcerting, making her feel like a specimen under glass.
Cortez chuckled. “Sunshine and pretty señoritas give an old man like me the blues. I like my days cold and rainy.” He looked at the mural with sad eyes. “In fact, I think I’d prefer the world to be in black and white.”
“Like an old movie,” April stated. She was starting to feel more relaxed.
The stallion’s eyes sparkled. “Like all good movies. But tell me, señorita Rain… how would you describe your perfect day?”
“I like my days hot and sunny, like this one.”
He smiled broadly and spread his arms. “Well, then you should be happy to be alive today, yes?” His expression sobered and he shook his head. “But you are not happy, are you. You are troubled by nightmares.”
His words struck April Rain like a physical blow. Her heartbeat sped up and she found herself gasping for breath. Fear held her frozen in place. “What?”
“You are afraid of them. You even fear your dreams may be real.”
As he spoke, the numbness was replaced with white hot anger. Her body tensed and she glared at him. “Who told you about my nightmares?” she hissed, pinning her ears back.
“No one told me. I can tell from looking into your eyes. I see the ghosts that haunt you.”
April stamped and tossed her head. Her voice was cold and hard when she answered him. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but from now on, stay the hell away from me and my personal life!”
He shook his head. “No puedo, señorita Rain. You have a destiny.”
She snorted at him, flaring her nostrils wide with each huffing breath. “Destiny? I don’t care what you think; just… just leave me alone!”
“If you do not face them, I’m afraid your nightmares will continue. Soon, they will appear to you even when you’re awake.”
“You need some serious help, you know that?” she growled.
“We all do, April. That’s the reason we are here, you and me.”
‘And here come the philosophical horse-apples— ‘“That’s it! I don’t have to listen to this,” she roared.
Cortez shook his head sadly. “Perdoname. I've upset you. We didn't think you’d react this way. I hope we can talk again soon?”
April shook her head; one single sharp movement. “I don’t think so, no.”
He sighed and looked at her the same way a father would look at a child throwing a temper tantrum. “Please think about it? And señorita? Cuidado. Be careful.”
She did not respond. She merely turned from him and walked away briskly. She could feel him watching her until she was completely out of his line of sight.
It took quite a while for April’s emotions to cool. By then she had stomped her way through the central axis and across the ‘park’, which was little more than a small patch of grass located underneath a train bridge where the locals gathered to enjoy what little free time they managed to get. Then there were the usual junkies who slept on the park benches until the cops came and shooed them off. They always left quickly; no one was dumb enough to argue with someone in full armor with a blaster strapped to their shoulder.
Past the park was the Venice Academy of the Visual Arts, affectionately known as ‘VAVA’. The school was founded in 2119 by Mary Samm, an activist with the restorative movement that tried to halt the city's decline some years back. Most of their campaigns didn't produce any results, but the exploits of this mare had. The tiny old gal had managed to convince the local graffiti artists to put their talents to good use—with her guidance they had painted dozens of enormous, intricate murals across the area. VAVA was her crowning achievement. After years of campaigning (and badgering the local officials) she had finally scraped together enough money to build the academy. It stood as a lasting testament to Mary Samm's dream to make the world a brighter place. April admired her greatly. Though it had recently celebrated its 90th birthday, the school was in remarkably good condition. She trotted inside, trying to ignore all the signs in the front lobby reminding her about the exhibition. She finally found her way to the right room, and climbed the curving metal stairway to the loft she shared with Emma.
She stopped to look at her friend’s Holosculpture. April had always felt like using holograms to make art was taking the easy way out, not that she’d tell Emma that. Still, her friend never seemed to run out of inspiration. Emma’s project was already done. A whimsical creature grinned at her from the projector: a little pony with a fish’s tail and fins. Her imagination was so vivid. ‘Good thing we’re best friends, or I might be jealous,’ she thought ruefully. She turned to look at her own blank canvas and sighed.
‘It’s not going to paint itself.’ She grabbed her paintbrush and palette and sat down to work. She stared at the canvas, waiting for inspiration to strike. Something in the back of her mind gave her the nudge she’d been waiting for. Lifting her brush, she began to paint.
Emma walked up beside her and looked at her drawing. “Hiya!” the palomino yelled.
April jumped a little, unaware that so much time had passed. Putting down her art supplies, she stood up and smiled at her friend. “Emma? Hi! I didn't expect to see you here today.”
“Me neither. Are you busy?”
“Nah. Well I am, but I’m about to wrap up for today anyway. Why? What’s going on?”
“I have an important message for you.”
April cocked her head. “Yeah, from whom?”
“Believe it or not, girlfriend, but it’s from Cortez.”
“Excuse me?”
“He said to tell you that he wants to meet you—these are his exact words—‘where foals visualize their dreams’.”
“… What’s that supposed to mean?” April was starting to feel irritated again.
Emma shrugged. “I was hoping you’d know.”
April sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Did he talk to you about nightmares?” she asked softly.
The palomino frowned. “No, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… my dreams are really starting to bother me…”
Emma rolled her eyes. “There you go again with dreams. You’re obsessing, April. They’re just dreams! Sometimes a banana is just a banana.”
“And a dragon is just a dragon?”
“What do dragons have to do with it? Oh, don’t tell me, you had a dream about dragons.”
“A dragon. A talking dragon.”
Emma sighed. “I’m gonna regret this, but… what happened in your dream?”
“Well, there was a dragon...”
The palomino rolled her eyes. “I think we established that already. You had a dream about a dragon.”
“Not just any dragon. A talking dragon.”
“Yup. We've been through that. Talking dragon. Covered. What did it say?”
“She. It was a she. A female dragon.”
“What, you could tell from the skirt, high heels and lipstick?”
April frowned. “Don’t mock me, Emma. She said something to me… something about being the mother of the future.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “She probably said ‘time to get up and go to school, April’.”
“If you don’t want to take my dreams seriously, I’ll stop telling you about them.”
Emma grinned mischievously. “Is that a promise?” Emma sighed. “I’m hungry, let’s grab some dinner.”
April rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll meet you out front. I just have to finish cleaning up here.”
“Don’t take too long.” With a wave, the palomino disappeared down the stairs.
Gathering up her paintbrushes, April headed to the sink. She started up the water and watched it flow over the brushes. She stared into space, thinking about her day. There was a strange noise behind her. She turned and stared into the eyes of Emma’s holoprojection, which had somehow moved forward to meet her. It wasn't a projection anymore. No longer a collection of glowing white lines, this creature had a solid body, a thick hide and a pair of deep blue eyes, which were locked on her face. Mouth open, it swam through the air towards her. April Rain slid to the floor and covered her head, bracing for impact.
Author's Note
April lives in a world that is akin to ours a few hundred years down the line... provided everything goes to heck. The ponies wear clothes since they can't control the weather. April's in for a rude awakening when she finds out Equestria is full of 'naked' ponies.
I tried to develop the background characters more than they were in the game; they're interesting enough to deserve it.
Praise again to nothingtoseehere for his editing skills. All hail the grammar guru!
The Longest Journey: Equestrian Edition
Chapter 1: Penumbra Part 2
"... And she shows up with her mane dyed this horrid bright pink color. Can you imagine what... April? Are you even listening to me?" Emma frowned and leaned across the table to poke April Rain.
April managed to get pretty good clearance between her flank and the restaurant's bench as she reacted to the palomino's prodding. "W-what?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "Hey, space cadet, try to rejoin us here on planet earth, okay?" She gestured at her friend's plate. "Look at the mess you made. What ever did that spaghetti ever do to you?"
April looked down at her plate and blushed. She had been prodding at her food absently, and had managed to churn it into an almost unrecognizable blob. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little distracted." 'Like with the fact that I'm losing my mind .' She sighed. "I'm not really that hungry anyways."
Emma was busy finishing off her own meal. How she managed to talk and eat at the same time was a mystery to her friend. She jabbed her fork at April. "You always eat like a bird, are you trying to lose weight or something?"
April blinked. "What? No!"
The palomino smiled conspiratorially. "It's alright. A mare has to look after her figure." She patted her flank for emphasis.
"I'm not dieting," April responded flatly.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine. Seriously though, what's got you so worked up?"
April opened her mouth and found she could not speak past the lump that had formed in her throat. She looked away. "It's nothing."
Emma examined her for a minute before reaching across the table and grabbing April's hoof with her own. When the other mare looked up, the palomino stared directly into her eyes as she spoke. "April, you're my best friend. You can tell me anything. I'll be here for you if you want to talk."
April smiled shakily. "Thanks." She took a deep breath. "So, any plans tonight?"
Emma's face lit up. "Uh-huh. We're going to go hit the club."
"Who is it this time?"
"Paul."
April furrowed her brow. "What happened to Rick?"
Emma waved her hoof dismissively. "Dumped him last week after I caught him with this pretty little brunette with her mane down to her ass." She snorted. "Extensions, they have to be extensions," she muttered.
April sighed. "Geez, Emma, where do you find these stallions?"
The palomino grinned. "You know me, April. I can't resist a bad colt... plus this one is really good in bed. You can tag along if you'd like. I'm sure we can find you somebody to date. It's going to be lots of fun!"
April shook her head. "You know I don't like those crazy club scenes. I'll probably just go home for Friday movie night with Fiona and Mickey."
Emma sighed. "You really need to learn to live a little." The waiter walked over with the check. "I've got this."
"I feel bad letting you pay for everything." April frowned as Emma fished some cash out of her pocket and left it on the table.
"No offense, but I don't think you can afford it. Not with Skinflint Stanley as your boss." Emma's expression soured as she mentioned the stallion's nickname.
"Emma!" April scolded.
The palomino held up her hooves in mock surrender. "Alright, sorry. But you know I'm right. He pays you so little it's practically criminal."
"But-" April began.
"Oh look, there's Paul. I'll catch you later." With a quick wave the palomino left her friend behind. She nuzzled her coltfriend and the two trotted off together.
April sighed through her nose and headed back home.
Nightfall found three ponies in front of the holoscreen.
"So, what are we watching tonight?" April asked. She was sitting on the couch and watching Mickey fiddle with the controls.
"Some old indie number that Mickey found. You'll have to ask her about the story, darling," Fiona said. She was lying next to April on the sofa.
Mickey stood up, grunting as a few of her joints popped. "When a movie has scantily clad Amazonian mares, who cares about the plot?" She sat down on the floor in front of Fiona.
Fiona repositioned herself so that her head was resting on Mickey's shoulder. "It depends on what sort of plot you're talking about, love."
Mickey chuckled and started the movie.
April sighed contentedly. Mickey had been right about the movie's story line not being very good, but just relaxing here watching it with her friends made it worthwhile... At least for a little while she could forget about her dreams, crazy old stallions and their philosophical nonsense, and even her own frayed sanity.
The screen flickered once, then again. The three dimensional image shifted. It was replaced by a very different looking forest that crept forward out of the screen. April blinked but it only became more and more vivid. The detail was far beyond even the most high end holoscreens, which this was not.
The forest filled the room, surrounding them with the sounds of creatures shifting in the underbrush and leaves rattling in the twisted trees. The trees themselves seemed almost alive, reaching out for them with claw-like branches. April shut her eyes, but that only made things worse. It was so vivid that she thought she could smell the forest. It was no illusion. The smell of damp earth, rotting leaves, and the odd fragrance of the spotted blue flowers growing in a patch nearby assaulted her nostrils. She looked over at her two companions. Her chest heaving, Fiona glanced around wildly as she clutched desperately to her marefriend. Mickey's eyes were dull and her body wracked with tremors. There was a loud popping noise, and the forest disappeared in a blink. The three ponies huddled together, staring at the holoscreen as smoke curled up from its electrical panel. The only scent left in the air was the acrid stench of melting plastic.
April sat at the table staring numbly at the apple sitting in front of her. Fiona had given it to her wordlessly a few moments ago. April looked over at her landlady. She was wearing her apron inside out and her hooves shook as she prepared tea for the two of them. Fiona placed a cup in front of her tenant and sat down across the table, cradling a cup of her own in her hooves. For a while they stared at each other over the steaming mugs.
"S-so... about last night," Fiona stuttered. She rubbed her hooves along her arms, as if cold. She stared at April pleadingly, even desperately, seeking confirmation.
"I saw it too," April said simply.
Fiona sighed heavily. "Mickey won't say anything. I was worried I really was crazy. Maybe we all are. A gas leak, group hypnosis; nothing fits. What is this world coming to?"
"I saw something the other day at the studio. I thought I was crazy..." April whispered.
Fiona was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice shook. "The other day, I saw something in the canal. It was there for only a moment, but I saw it. There was an underwater city..."
"Scary."
Fiona looked at April, fear shining in her eyes. "What is going on?"
April looked away. "I-I don't know..." She turned back to the older mare "But maybe I know someone who does. Do you know anything about a place 'where foals visualize their dreams'?"
Fiona shook her head.
April sighed. "Maybe Charlie will know. He has work today, so I should head down to the cafe and ask him."
Fiona nodded absently. She turned to stare out the kitchen window, eyes distant.
April got up and headed out, leaving an untouched cup of tea and an uneaten apple behind her.
Walking across the central axis and past 'that weird water pump that kind of looks like the Death Star' (as Emma put it), April found herself in front of the Fringe Cafe. The little bar catered mainly to the various groups of backpackers who passed through Newport on their expeditions. April didn't mind working here. It was a nice place—at least it ranked 'nice' on the scale with 'begging for food' at the bottom and 'just scraping by' at the top. Being a waitress was not what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
Walking inside, she found Charlie in his usual spot—polishing glasses at the bar. He had his back to her, and she could see the muscles in his shoulders move underneath his uniform as he worked. Despite his bulk, the stallion was agile and could mix one mean cocktail. He had a deep brown coat, and kept his black mane tied up in a ponytail. Charlie was the first pony April met when she arrived in Newport, and had been looking out for her ever since.
"Hi, Charlie," she said with a smile.
The stallion put down the glass and polishing cloth he was holding and turned around to face her. He grinned. "April. Nice to see you, girl. I went to wake you up this morning, but you must have been out cold."
"Yeah... I had trouble sleeping." April shifted from hoof to hoof. "Have you seen Cortez around?"
Charlie's eyebrows rose. "As a matter of fact, I have. He was asking for you yesterday."
April tilted her head. "He asked about me?'
The stallion nodded. "He wanted to know where you were. He had a message for you. I told him to give it to Emma, since she was more likely to bump into you."
"I got it, but I have no idea what it means," she said.
He nodded sagely. "Cortez can be a little strange."
April took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Do you know where he was going?"
Charlie's eyebrows rose further. "No, but he seemed interested in that poster next to the jukebox. They just put it up the other day." He eyed her critically. "Why do you need to find him?"
April shook her head. "Do you know where foals could, uh, 'visualize their dreams'?"
He shrugged. "Maybe in therapy?"
"I don't think that's it, Charlie."
"Then I don't know," he said.
"Thanks," April said, smiling.
He grinned back. "Anytime, April."
April's stomach growled, reminding her of the breakfast she had missed. She glanced down at the candy jar sitting on the bar. 'I'm sure Stanley won't mind if I dig gently into his supply. ' She fished out a few pieces.
Charlie looked up from his work just in time to see her pop one into her mouth. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
She spit the candy back into its wrapper and looked at him. "Why?"
"Stanley's really mad at whoever has been stealing all the candy out of the jar lately. He's gone a little crazy. He bought those at a novelty shop. They're laxatives. He says he wants to 'teach that thief a lesson'."
April turned green and fought the urge to wipe her tongue. "Thanks for the warning." She stuffed the candy into her pocket, not feeling particularly hungry anymore. Grimacing, she trotted over to inspect the poster Charlie had mentioned.
"What you doing here?" April looked at her boss, seated in his usual location at the end of the bar. The old onager was fat, with a grey and reddish brown coat. He had shaved off his mane in order to hide his thinning hair. It didn't do much to improve his appearance. He scowled at her, jowls flopping like a bulldog's as he spoke with his thick accent. "You ain't working, are you? I don't have my employees working so long. Go, get sleep!" He waved a hoof at her while the other remained wrapped around his drink.
She sighed. "But I'm just-"
He waved his arms at her, sloshing some of his drink onto the bar. "Damn, mare. Do I have to foalsit you?"
She bared her teeth at him. "It's nice to see you too, Stanley. No, I'm not working today. I just came by to-"
He held out a hoof. "Oh, please don't say those two words when I'm around. I don't think my ulcers can take it."
"What, 'you' and 'nice'?"
Stanley gave a fake laugh. "That's funny. No, 'working', and 'not'. Don't use those two words in the same sentence." He shuddered. "Damn. Gives me the creeps even when I say them."
April chuckled to herself. 'I know a word that he hates even more.' She smiled sweetly. "I'd like to get paid, Stanley."
There was a lovely thunking sound as the stallion's head hit the bar. "Damn mare, don't you know I have a migraine already? 'Paid'. Damn, why do they have to make that word sound so.... obscene?" He looked up at her and sighed. "Listen. Why don't you leave old Stan here alone, huh? It make me feel a whole hell of a lot better. Shoo, shoo, be a good little filly, hmm?"
Her smile widened. "I'd still like to get paid, though."
He groaned in pain. "Mighty Manu, mare. You sure know how to rub it in. Damn. Yeah, alright, you got your time sheet?"
Of the few things April carried around with her regularly—a matchbook, her cash card, a small photo of her friends—her time sheet was one of them. She gave it to him, still smiling. "Here you are. My time sheet."
Stanley winced like a pony with a hangover. "Don't say that word too loud, sweetheart. You're killing me." He looked at the piece of paper and frowned. "Hmm. What's this? Uh? No. No-no-no. Did I sign this? What I thinking?" He stared at it for a while.
April tapped her hoof impatiently. "So?"
"At least it doesn't look like it's been forged. Thanks."
The smile left her face and she pulled her ears back. "Thanks? Where's my money?"
Her boss had already turned back to his drink. "Oh, you ain't getting it now. Next week, honey. I write this down in my ledger, don't you worry your head from it."
'Oh no, I'm not falling for that again. I know what to do .' She stamped her foot. "Forget that, I quit."
He dropped his drink and wheeled around to face her. "You're quitting? You can't quit. You work for me! Nobody quits this job, honey!"
She frowned at him, but inside she was chortling. "I can quit, and I'm quitting. I quit."
He reeled from each word like it was a physical blow. "Damn, mare—you know how hard it is to find ponies to take a crappy job like this one? I need you!"
"Just as much as you need the money?"
He squirmed in his chair for a bit, then sighed. "All right, I give you your damn money. What was it—fifty bucks?"
"Try three-hundred and seventy-five, Stanley. Cash"
He nodded. "Right, three-hundred..." He blinked. "Are you sure? I pay you guys way too much. Alright, gimmie your cash card."
April gave it to her boss—he ran it through his data pad and returned it to her. "Thank you, Stanley," she said sweetly.
He grunted. "Fine. Sure. Whatever." He blinked. "Hey, just a minute. You free tonight? You wanna pull a shift? Sandra, she out sick, and I need a replacement pronto. How about it?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I need the cash." 'I should be able to find Cortez before then...'
Stanley nodded and turned back to his drink. "Great, hon. I'll see you here later. Don't forget." He blinked and peered into the bottom of his cup with a puzzled expression. Apparently he hadn't noticed he'd been sloshing it around while he was talking. April resumed her search for the poster.
She finally found it next to the cafe's antique (read as 'convincing fake') jukebox. April stared at the poster with her head to one side. It featured a collection of random abstract images and the title "Roma Gallery presents 'Growing Pains'—An exhibition by and for kids and teenagers." She picked up a complementary student pass and looked at it. The gallery was near the Watertown Bridge—she'd have to take the subway to get there. April sighed. It was going to be a long day.
One long subway ride and a short walk later, April found herself in front of the Roma Gallery. When she entered, she found the security guard asleep at his post. She rolled her eyes and left her ticket on the desk in front of him. His snores echoed through the tiny gallery as she made her way over to Cortez, one of the only two other visitors at the exhibit. He was staring intently at a painting, but looked over at her as she approached. "About time you showed up," he said.
April stopped in her tracks and frowned at him. "About time? I spent more than-"
Cortez interrupted her by pulling her over to stand in front of the painting he had been staring at. "Mira—this painting right here. Look."
She sighed through her gritted teeth, but looked closer at the artwork. It was done in colored squares, and very abstract—an oil painting with two ponies locked in an embrace. Only the stallion's face was visible, and his eyes were sad. It was quite well done for a foal. "Who's the artist?"
"A boy named Warren Hughes. Not so long ago, I knew him and his family quite well. But he doesn't paint anymore..." Cortez's voice was heavy with sorrow.
"What am I looking for?" She asked after they stared at it a while longer.
"What do you see?"
"I see a statement on loss. The stallion, he's hugging a mare and by all rights should be happy. But he's not. He's already mourning the loss of her, even though that's still somewhere in his future." She smiled. All those art classes were paying off.
Cortez promptly stomped on her pride. "Statements! Who cares about statements? Tell me what you see!"
She glared at him. "I see art," she said flatly.
He nodded. "Art, yes. And beyond that?"
She furrowed her brow. "Technique?"
He shook his head. "Technique only allows us to create art. Beyond technique, beyond art, what is there?"
April sighed heavily. 'I really hate this philosophical talk but... if he can really help me, I have to try. ' She looked at the painting again. "Truth?" she asked tentatively.
He smiled widely. "Exactly! A deeper truth. This painting, this particular work of art, speaks a deeper truth. It has a soul."
She looked at him quizzically. "How can a painting have a soul?"
"It has a soul because it has an identity, it has a heart. The memory of this painting will survive beyond this moment. It will linger in your mind and become part of the tapestry of your subconscious. It has made a lasting impression on you, and you're not quite sure why."
'Oh-kay then...' She sighed. "What is your point?"
"For something to be real, to be truthful, the artist must transfer—shift—part of him or herself into the work, to transcend the illusion and reach for the truth of art."
"And what is the 'truth of art'?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? I've been asking myself that question for years."
All the emotions April had kept bottled up overflowed. "Excuse me? You don't even know? Then what's this all about, all these questions and lectures on 'truth' and 'illusion'? For that matter, why did you ask me to come down here in the first place?"
"Because-"
She growled as realization dawned on her. "Actually, you didn't even ask me to come down! I spent all day traveling all over Newport, deciphering a cryptic message, spending money I don't have on a subway ticket, only to stand here and listen to... to..." She trailed off, disgusted with herself.
"You saw something. A waking dream you can't explain. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
She nodded.
"My point about art and truth is this, April: some things look real, but are not. And other things may appear to be of no consequence at all, but are in fact invaluable. Like Warren's painting here. And your dreams. There is both truth and illusion in dreams and in the images they create. The problem is in sorting one from the other."
April's heart fluttered against her rib cage. "You're telling me my dreams are true?"
"I'm telling you there are things afoot and that you need help sorting the truth from the illusions. My help."
"Well, that figures," she muttered darkly.
He smiled at her. "Good. I was hoping you would understand."
She glared at him, her voice increasing in volume as she spoke. "No, actually I didn't understand a single word. You talk about art, truth, dreams, and illusions, but I still don't understand what they have to do with me!" She sighed, then continued at a more reasonable volume. "There are things happening, yes, and I came here because I thought... maybe you're crazy enough to believe me. That you could help me, I don't know, sort through the debris and come up with a plausible explanation." Something wet hit her leg. She rubbed her face and found that she was crying. "But no, you tell me my dreams might be true, that I need your help, and that things are 'afoot'." She laughed sharply. "Who even says 'afoot'? I've never heard anybody use that word before. 'There are things afoot'."
He smiled at her again. "Esta bien... I understand your reluctance to believe me, señorita. But I cannot convince you here. Meet me tomorrow." He looked at her as if she were a small foal he was taking care of, smiling as she stumbled along learning to walk. It made her blood boil.
"No. Not again," she said simply.
He looked at her like she was a little filly throwing a temper tantrum. "But you will. Because you are compelled to do so by your own curiosity. Because you are drawn to mystery. And because, despite your skepticism, you believe I have the answers to all your questions. Yes?"
"No," she said icily, "I don't care. I just want to have a normal life: no nightmares, no visions, and no strangers telling me that 'things are afoot'. Comprende, amigo?"
Cortez wasn't paying attention. He was looking over her head at the clock on the wall. "Ay Dios mio, is that the time? I've got to run, señorita Ryan. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
April stamped her foot. "I said-"
"Goodbye." Cortez left quickly, his long legs making short work of the distance.
She stared after him, desperately wanting to kick something. She snorted angrily. 'Well, that went swimmingly. And I still have a shift tonight... ' She would have to do her best not to snap the heads off of any of the customers, at least until they had paid.
A sour expression and an equally foul mood did not help April Rain get tips. She was well into her shift, and feeling every bit of the exhaustion from her adventure. Stanley had her working the floor, tending to the handful of customers. Emma had arrived not too long ago with her friend, Marcus. They were having a lively debate on one of the cafe's sofas. Charlie was busy with a few of the regulars at the bar.
The old jukebox was in full swing, belting out old-time music at an almost painful volume. As April passed by it carrying a tray of drinks, the sound began to fade in and out, like one of those retro radios. She glanced at it and her mouth fell open as the entire machine began to glow a bright white. A tiny creature popped out of it. It looked like a miniature pony, but it had butterfly wings and antennae like an insect. The thing was singing a cheery tune, eyes shut tight. April dropped her tray. The sound startled the little pony and it glanced around at the dumbstruck patrons. It squeaked, and disappeared in a flash of light.
The room was silent, save for the sound of one of the patrons emptying the contents of his beer glass onto the floor. "I gotta give up drinkin'," he slurred.
End of Chapter 1
Author's Note
The game made you pick between the cafe scene and the movie. To that I say Pfffft! This is a fanfic, why not do both? The ponies in April's world are all normal horse colors, which explains Emma's reaction to a pink mane. An onager is a wild ass from India.
Thanks again to nothingtoseehere for his support.
The Longest Journey: Equestrian Edition
Chapter 2: Through the Looking Glass Part 1
April Rain sat on her bedroom floor and stared at the wall without really seeing it. A sigh rattled through her chest as she rose to her feet. She stumbled a little. Despite the heat, her body was numb. She tottered over to the closet but managed to ram her head into it as she misjudged the distance. Cursing under her breath, she rubbed her forehead and opened the closet. The meager contents spilled out onto the floor, shaken loose by her headbutt. "Damn," she muttered. "Damn, damn it all!" She shouted, pounding against the floorboards. She sat on her haunches and ran a hoof through her mane. 'Why did my life have to become so complicated?' she wondered.
April got to her feet and began gathering up her scattered belongings. Memories of last night continued to occupy her thoughts, along with a firm decision about what her plans for the day would be: finding Cortez. The old guy might like double talk and riddles, but right now he was the only hope she had for getting her life back together. As she reached down into the pile her hoof hit something hard that clanged metallically. April fished out the offending object to look at it. Cradled in her hooves was Constable Guybrush, a strange tin toy that was a cross between a monkey, a robot, a cop, and a one-pony band. When you wound him up, he would play his instruments and sing a cheery, annoying little tune. She blinked and smiled slightly at the old childhood plaything. As she went to put it back on the shelf, for some reason she stopped and instead slipped the toy into her pocket. Something had made her bring the little thing with her when she ran away from home. Right now she needed all the comfort she could get. She fished an outfit out of the pile and put it on before shoving the rest of the mess back into the closet, slamming the doors shut before it could all tumble out again. She just wasn't up to straightening them all out right now (not that she ever was, even on a good day). She left her apartment, taking only enough time to lock the door behind her.
April wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a banana from the basket of fruit sitting out on the counter. Since she was up later than normal today Fiona was not in the kitchen, the only sign of her presence being a pile of clean dishes sitting in the drying rack and a half finished pot of coffee on the kitchen table. April wandered over to the notice board hanging on the kitchen wall. She peeled the banana and chewed on it while she stared at the cork-board in an attempt to distract herself from her worries. There was the usual array of notes, advertisements, and schedules pinned to the board; it was after all where all the tenants and landladies put any information they found pertinent. Finishing her food, she was about to turn away when a little pink note caught her eye. She pulled it down and inspected it, squinting at Fiona's barely legible writing. "Found," she read the note aloud. "A gold bracelet under the common room sofa. If it's yours let me know. No false claims please! Fiona." April frowned. 'I did lose a gold bracelet a few weeks ago. I hope this is the one. I'll have to ask Fiona about it.' She slipped the note and the pushpin that came with it into her pocket and made her way out of the room.
April found Fiona lying on the common room sofa, staring into space. She had been uncharacteristically silent ever since April had told her about the event at the cafe when she returned home last night. The young mare walked up to her landlady and tried her hardest to smile. It only came out halfway, just like the one Fiona gave in return. "Hey Fiona."
"Hello, darling. It's good to see you finally up and about. I was worried about you. After last night I thought..." The older mare trailed off and the conversation ground to a halt. April shifted from foot to foot awkwardly while her landlady stared into space, mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words.
After a few seconds April pulled the pink note out of her pocket and held it out to Fiona. "I saw this note on the cork-board."
The other mare blinked. Her mouth clicked shut and she took the note from her tenant. She glanced at it and nodded.
"I think the bracelet might belong to me," April continued.
Fiona smiled and sat up straighter. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to describe it for me. It's standard procedure, darling." She seemed to be doing better with a more normal conversation.
April nodded. "Sure thing. It says 'Sweet 16'. My dad gave it to me. I think it was the only birthday of mine that he remembered, or at least acknowledged."
Fiona smiled sympathetically. She cleared her throat and rummaged around in her pockets as she spoke. "Yes, that's the one. I found it under the couch while I was cleaning." She smiled and pulled out a gold bracelet and offered it to April. "Here you are, Darling. It was really dusty, so I cleaned it up a bit."
"Thanks." April's grin was genuine as she slipped the polished band into her pocket. "It's not worth much but it's got some ... sentimental value for me."
"Well, it's certainly pretty."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is," April replied. She smiled ruefully. "My dad never gave me anything pretty, before or since." "He must have won a poker game or something that day." She sighed and looked at Fiona. The events of the past few days had left her feeling helpless and in need of someone to confide in. "You know what's strange? I don't hate him. He's a mule and he treated me like crap every single day of my life, but I don't hate him. I feel sorry for him."
Fiona wrinkled her brow. "Why?"
April gritted her teeth. "Because he doesn't know how to love. He can't love anybody or anything. He'll be miserable every second of every minute of every day until the day he dies!" By the end she was shouting making her flush with embarrassment over her outburst. She sighed. "God. I'm glad that life is behind me. I hope I never have to see him again." She frowned and stamped her hoof before straightening up to her full height. "No, that's not right. I've made a choice never to see him again. Ever," she stated firmly.
Fiona nodded. She sat up and rubbed the top of April's head affectionately.
April grinned and pulled herself out of reach. "I'll see you later, Fiona." She paused and looked back. "Have you seen Cortez today?"
Fiona shook her head. "No, darling. I don't think he's around."
"Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"He could be anywhere." Fiona frowned. "Well..."
"Please, Fiona. It's important," April begged.
"He does enjoy going uptown to watch old movies in some revival cinema. But where it is, I wouldn't know," Fiona said.
"Who'd know?"
Fiona shifted uncomfortably. "Zack would know. He is, after all, the self-appointed film expert around here," she said with an apologetic grin.
April sighed and lay her head against the door frame. "Great. Zack. My very best friend in the whole wide world." She contemplated whether bashing her head against the wood repeatedly would get rid of her worries and save her all the trouble. She sighed. "Let's get this over with."
April stared at Zack's door as she tried to fight back her distaste and knock. 'I never imagined I'd be doing this...' She raised a hoof and knocked loudly.
The door popped open. Zack blinked at her in surprise before a smug grin spread across his face. "Well, well. What do you know? The princess comes knocking after all," he drawled, leaning against the door frame.
"Y-yes. I finally realized what I was missing out on," April said, doing her best to ignore the sour taste the words left in her mouth.
Zack puffed up his chest and snorted. "It's about time. So, you finally ready for a real stallion?"
'How can he manage to make that term sound so... dirty?' April gritted her teeth. "Just do me one favor first, okay?"
He snorted. "Give me a reason to, babe," he said flatly.
'Since I'm already going crazy, I guess I've got nothing to lose.' She smiled at him. It wasn't a nice smile. "A reason? You want a reason? Okay. What about a date."
He blinked, then grinned. He came closer to her, to the point where her eyes were watering from the overpowering stench of his cologne. "Yeah. Sound's good. Let's do it tonight." He ran a hoof down her side.
April shuddered. "S-sure. Tonight. I"ll meet you at the... Pavilion, was it?"
"So, are you going to put out?" Zack asked, patting her flank.
She pulled away. "What?" she asked, eye twitching.
He sighed. "If I'm going to use my VIP passes and my pills, babe... I gotta know if it'll be worth it or not. You on?" His tone was condescending as if he was explaining basic math to a slow child.
April's nervous tic had spread to her left ear. Her jaws were locked together. "We'll see, Zack," she ground out.
"Just don't do a Houdini and vanish on me, babe. If you're a no-show, and I wait around for you all night, I end up looking like an ass." He narrowed his eyes. "That wouldn't make me very happy."
"I'll be a good filly and show," April said in a sweet tone.
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Smart. So what do you want to know?"
"Do you know where I can find Cortez?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I knew there was something going on between you guys. So you have a thing for wrinkly old stallions?"
April frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not what you think," she said flatly.
He snorted and rolled his shoulders. "Whatever. Hey, like I give a shit. You're with me tonight, and by tomorrow morning I don't think you'll find that old creep so appealing anymore." He flicked his tail.
April took a deep breath and held it as she counted in her head, then let it out slowly. "So, where is Cortez?" she asked.
"When he's not outside reading or whatever the hell he does, he's usually at the Mercury Theater. They show movies on real celluloid stock, through a projector. You know, like in the middle ages."
"Where is the theater located?"
Zack shrugged. "I don't remember the street it's on—it's been ages since I was there last—but you'll find it if you head out the East Gateway from Metro Circle. It's close to the Radio Power building and there are tons of adult stores in the area." He grinned. "You should pick up something for us to watch tonight. Something really filthy." He licked his lips.
April shuddered. "Zack, I don't think-"
He snorted. "Hey, whatever. I was just kidding, yeah? Babe, you've got a major bug up your ass. Get a fucking sense of humor. Just be at the Pavilion by ten. I don't want to be waiting around for foals like you. I've got a million better things to do." Zack glared at her. "It wouldn't be a good idea for you to ditch me. Not a good idea at all," the stallion said coldly. He turned around and entered his apartment, closing the door in her face.
April sighed. She ran her hooves over her body, trying to get rid of the oily feeling that clung to her fur. 'I feel like I just sold my soul or something. Maybe I would have been better off knocking myself out with the wall after all.' Though all she really wanted was a long shower and a few hours to spend in the fetal position, April headed for the subway.
Wandering past various nightclubs and dodging around the druggies, April finally found herself in front of the Mercury Theater. It was very old fashioned looking, with a manual ticket window and even a neon marquee. The place looked the worse for wear, just like everything else in the area. The theater's columns were cracked, there was litter everywhere, and the sign would flicker periodically as sparks shot out of the nearby fuse-box. The only two souls in the area were a pair of stallions, a large one with a blank expression and a thin suspicious looking one wearing a trench coat.
April approached the larger stallion. He was sweeping the floor with an intense about of focus. His salt-and-pepper coat was caked with nearly as much dust as the sidewalk he was trying to clean. "Excuse me," she addressed him politely. He was even bigger up close.
The stallion spat out the broom he had clenched in his teeth and looked at her. "Yes'm?" he drawled. The marquee flickered overhead and went out. The stallion frowned. "Aw, jeez. Hold on there lady." He trotted over and gave one of the cracked columns a hard kick, making the entire structure shutter slightly. "Dang marquee! Light up!" As the vibrations from his blow reached the sign it shuddered back to life. The stallion nodded his head. "Good. Now stay that way, y'hear?" He grinned broadly before trotting back over to rejoin April.
"Do you work at the theater?" the mare asked after she had regained her composure. She groaned at the stupidity of her own question.
The stallion either didn't notice or just didn't care. He nodded again. "Yes'm. I'm Freddie. Freddie Melon. My Mama, Missus Dottie Melon, she owns the theater. Yup, I reckon she does, ah-huh." He nodded some more. "She owns it, and she be runnin' it by her own self, like a real pro-pri-e-tor. I reckon I help out some, of course. Ah-huh."
"What do you do, sir?" she asked.
"I'm the usher, and I also takes care of the sweepin' and the cleanin' up after the show." He puffed out his chest. "My Mama, Missus Dottie Melon, she say she reckon I'm a reg'lar Jack-of-all-the-trades. I tell you what, I think she's right about that 'un. Ah-huh."
"Is the theater open now?" April asked, looking towards the doors. They seemed to be roped off for some reason.
"No, I reckon it ain't lady," Freddie said firmly. "It don't open til this evenin'. Ain't nobody in there either. I reckon that wouldn't be legal." The stallion's eyes darted over towards the cloaked figure leaning on the lamppost nearby as he casually eavesdropped on their conversation. The other stallion sneered at Freddie.
April frowned. 'Did I get the wrong place? Maybe Cortez just isn't here yet.' She smiled at the large stallion. "Do you know someone named Cortez?" she asked.
To the mare's dismay, he shook his head. "No, can't say as I does, lady. Ain't never met him." He glanced at the other stallion again and then frowned at her. "Now, I reckon I'd like to get on with my sweepin', ah-huh."
April was starting to feel desperate. She grabbed him as he tried to turn away. "But I was supposed to meet him here. Are you sure you don't know him?"
He glared at her, making the mare back away immediately. "Look, lady. I reckon you should mind your own bee's knees and git. I tole you, I ain't seen Cortez today." He turned back to his work.
April sat down heavily. 'Was all this for nothing? I'm stuck in a date with the world's biggest asshole with nothing to show for it! I'm such a... wait a minute .' She blinked. "Wait, earlier you said you didn't know Cortez."
He wheeled around. "I-I reckon I don't know nobody by that name," he stuttered. Freddie growled at her. "I tell you what, I'd mighty appreciate it if you'd stop bothering me and let me git on with my work. You better let me get back to my sweepin' before my Mama, Missus Dottie Melon, get all p-i-s-t off!"
With the angry stallion towering over her, April could only nod mutely.
Freddie turned around, shaking his head. "Jesus, Mary and Baby Joseph—I reckon the whole dang world is wanting to find Cortez today. 'Least this un is purty," he muttered as he picked up his broom and resumed his work.
April glanced over at the conspicuous individual watching her nearby. He was wearing a trench-coat and a fedora and was smoking a stubby cigar. 'So, I'm not the only one looking for Cortez. Does that mean this guy is too? If i'm going to sneak into the theater, I'm going to have to get these two to go somewhere else. I'll start with our mysterious stranger. ' She trotted over to the thin stallion and gave him a friendly smile. "Hi there. Having fun?"
He glared at her, spitting the remains of his cigar into the gutter. The blue roan had a flat, husky, slightly condescending tone when he spoke. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"
"Yes."
"Then what are you doing? Get lost." He made a shooing motion at her with his fore-hooves as he leaned back against the post.
April ignored his not-so-subtle hint. "Are you on the job?"
He glared at her. "On the job? What do you mean, 'on the job'?"
She winked at him conspiratorially. "You know, an assignment. Stakeout. Undercover operation."
He stared at her blankly. "You watch too many cop shows lady."
"Don't you get tired of hanging around here all day long?" she asked pleasantly.
"No, ma'am," he said flatly.
"So you're completely fine. There's nothing you want," April stated.
"Nothing at all," he said.
"Not even a bite to eat?"
"Just had a full lunch but thanks for asking, ma'am," the stallion said with a sneer.
"So you just had lunch?"
"That's right. At Kool Kow."
She fluttered her lashed at him and smiled. "Sounds nice. What did you have?"
"A Triple Whammy Kow Patty with a side order of Greaseonions, a large Bingo cola with no ice, and a double order of Cheesum's Fried Taters," he recited.
April blinked. 'That's a lot of calories.' "And you don't feel the urge to..."
"No. My bowels are genetically enhanced and require only perfunctory attention."
'Okay, didn't need to hear that. ' April tried her best to not look disgusted. "So, it filled you up good? You don't have the munchies?" she asked sweetly.
He tilted his head and frowned. "Well, now that you mention it, I have a craving for sweets. I didn't have time for my usual Kool Kow Strawberry Pie with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a scoop of ice cream." The roan blinked. "Wait a second. What am I telling you all this for? Who the hell are you anyway?"
'Bingo .' She smiled and dug in her pocket for the laxative candies she had gotten from the Fringe. "Would you like a candy?"
He blinked at her offering, then snatched it away from her. "Yeah! That'd hit the spot."
"You're welcome." April backed up and watched as he crunched his way through the candy.
He managed to swallow the first two, but paused with the third in his mouth. An odd expression crossed his face. "What the hell? I feel kinda—oh Christ!" He convulsed and the candy shot out of his mouth... and hit Freddie Melon squarely in the back of the head.
The large stallion turned around, rubbing his head. Hey, what..." he grumbled. He looked around, but the only one nearby was the cloaked pony by the lamp post. He glared at the other stallion. "What the hell do think you're doing? Did you just throw a rock at my head?" He stomped towards the not-a-cop, who was clutching his gut and moaning. "Now I tell you what, you shouldn't have done that. I reckon that that was a BIG mistake." He whacked the thin stallion over the head with his broom.
April watched as the large stallion chased the smaller one down the street with his broom. 'I feel kind of bad. I didn't think he'd react that badly. Well, one down and one to go.'
Her contemplation was short lived as Freddie came trotting back, chortling loudly. He noticed her and headed over to meet her. "Hee-hee, you shoulda seen him run, lady. I reckon I ain't seen nobody run that fast. And he had his tail wrapped between his legs like a dog. He even lost his stupid old hat in the gutter." The large stallion was having trouble keeping his balance with all the giggling. "Hee-hee. I ain't seen anything that funny in a while." Still chuckling, Freddie returned to sweeping.
Looking towards the thin stallion's former post, April found that Freddie had spoken the truth: the not-a-cop's hat was lying forgotten in the gutter. As she picked it up, she heard a loud buzzing, sizzling noise nearby. Glancing at the lamp post, she realized it's base was actually a fuse box. A wire was hanging out of the box. With a sharp tug, she pulled it loose and the sign went dark.
Freddie looked up from his work. "Dang marquee! Light up!" he shouted as he kicked the column. The sign remained off. He kicked it again, this time hard enough to shake some dust from the building. There was no response. He sighed. "Hell. It gone dead on me now. I reckon it's time to fix that sign up proper, ah-huh. I just need a ladder and some tools from the basement." Muttering to himself, the stallion trotted past April and shoved open a section of fencing next to the theater. Quietly, the mare followed him into the alley behind it.
Freddie opened the emergency exit door with a set of keys he pulled out. April hid behind a large pile of trash in the alley until the door slammed shut and the lock clunked into place. She sighed and relief and peered around the trash pile. Her heart nearly stopped when she noticed the shadow of an armed individual behind her. Wheeling around to face him she found... a huge pile of garbage bags casting a shadow on the alley wall. She facehoofed, groaning at her own stupidity. She blinked. 'Wait. If it's good enough to fool me, with a few adjustments I could...' April smiled and pulled out the fedora. She carefully climbed to the top of the garbage pile and set it in place. Turning around, she surveyed her work. The shadow now looked like a thin, fedora-wearing, gun-wielding pony. It still needed a few things. She pulled out Constable Guybrush and put him behind the trash heap. It was all set.
Now all she needed was a way to get Freddie to rush out and leave the door open. With a grin, April started a small fire in the trashcan next to the emergency exit—right under the smoke detector. She wound up Constable Guybrush and hid in the shadows next to the door. The next few moments were pure poetry.
The smoke alarm went off.
Freddie came dashing out. He glanced at the pile of burning rubbish. "Hell's blazes! We got ourselves a fire!" He slammed the lid onto the can, snuffing out the flames.
Constable Guybrush started his song. "Hey, you!"
The stallion blinked and swiveled his ears around. "Now, where's that voice coming from? Show yourself now, ya hear?" He turned around and noticed the shadow. Freddie froze.
"Yeah, you! Freeze!" Constable Guybrush commanded.
The stallion stood very still. "All right there, mister! Just don't fire that gun now y'hear? I'm sorry I chased ya earlier."
"Spread your legs!" Constable Guybrush yelled.
Freddie complied.
"Now do the monkey! Dance! Ooh-ohh, ahh-ahh, ook!" Constable Guybrush began to play his instruments.
The stallion nodded. "Freddie'll do the monkey for ya, right now, if that's what you want, ah-huh. He'll do the monkey until you ask him to stop, I reckon, ah-huh! Huh!"
April slipped into the theater, trying not to laugh at the tiny voice as it continued to shout "Do the monkey! Dance! Ooh-ohh, ahh-ahh, ook!" and the large, sweating stallion who followed his instructions carefully.
April Rain skirted her way in between the rows of red seats towards the only occupied one in the room. Cortez sat, watching the old black-and-white film intently. She slipped into the seat next to him, and he turned to her with a smile.
April sighed. "You have no idea what I went through to find you. First-"
"Do you like movies?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Sure, who doesn't—wait a second, I was trying to tell you that-"
"I don't much like modern movies. They're either too loud and expensive, or too obscure and self-indulgent. But old movies—really old movies—have a charm and simplicity that appeals to me."
"Listen, please don't interrupt me again. It's starting to piss me off," April growled.
"But I have never interrupted you! Unless I have something important to say, of course. But go ahead. What did you want to talk about?"
"Why did you make me search all over the city for you?"
Cortez arched an eyebrow. "Search for me? I've been here for hours, señorita. I haven't moved. The question ought to be: what made you go out of your way to find me?"
April rubbed at the back of her head. "So... what's so appealing about old movies?" she asked after an uncomfortable silence.
Cortez chuckled. "Now you are changing the subject. That's more my style, isn't it?"
"You can be annoyingly smug at times, did you know that?" April grumbled.
He nodded. "Oh course. I apologize for being so hard to locate today. I had to... lay low for a few hours."
Something clicked in April's head. "Is that why there was a cop staking this place out?"
"Ah! So it was a good thing I didn't stick my head out the door to look for you then, sí?"
"He's gone now. Are you in some kind of trouble with the police? Wait, don't tell me. Immigration, right?"
Cortez shook his head. "No, señorita. Not the police. There are bigger players than the police."
April shivered. "I don't want to know. I'm not getting mixed up with the mob or gangs or anything like that," she said flatly.
The stallion chuckled. "There is not much you want to be mixed up in at all, is there?"
She sighed. "My life's complicated enough as it is, Cortez. I don't even know what I'm doing here."
"Answers. You want—you need—answers."
April snorted. "You keep telling me that, but you never give me any answers," she said. Though she tried to remain calm, her anger managed to color the neutral tone she was trying to use. "You only give me more questions. Who's out to get you? What's going on with me? How come you know so much about me?"
He looked at her, and she found herself shifting uncomfortably again. "I plan to answer all of your questions today, April. By the time you go to sleep, your world will have changed. Nothing will ever be the same."
April, doing her best to keep herself together, went on the offensive. "You're just being cryptic again. It's like soap opera sex. Lots of boring dialogue and when they finally do go to bed everything's dark and covered by blankets."
Cortez chuckled at her analogy, but sobered quickly. "You want the full monty, then? Come outside with me. No more talk. I will show the truth." He got to his feet and headed for the exit.
April followed numbly behind, awash with feelings of curiosity and pure terror.
April Rain shivered even though the alley they were standing in was quite warm. Briefly she wondered where Freddie had gone, but her main focus was on the stoic stallion standing in front of her.
"This is probably as good a place as any," Cortez said. "At least, there is no one around to see except the rats."
April swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. "To see what?"
"Stand back, señorita," he said calmly.
"W-what for? What are you doing?" she demanded.
He smiled at her, but his eyes were sad. "Why, Alice," he said, "I'm sending you through the looking-glass." He sat down and raised his forelegs towards the wall. Gritting his teeth, he made a pulling motion, as if through sheer force of will he could somehow move the wall without touching it.
The wall moved.
April gasped, heart beating wildly as a strange doorway grew out of the wall like an enormous tree knot. It was blue and white, shiny like a seashell, marked with strange lines and a pale blue glow skittering across its surface. The portal opened like a flower unfurling its petals, Its center a mass of pure white light.
"What... what is that? Please tell me it's a hologram," April whispered.
"It's a mirror. To reflect your dreams," Cortez replied.
She squinted at it. "But I don't see anything. Just... light."
"You have to step through," he said. Despite the absurdity of his statement, the stallion did not look like he was joking.
April backed away slowly, shaking her head. "Step through that? Oh no. I don't think so."
He gave her that 'look' again, and she froze. "This is the moment of decision, April. All time, past and present, revolves around this moment. The destiny of the worlds is in your hooves. But you must make this choice on your own. La vida es corta... you must decide how to live it best."
April shook like she had just completed a five mile run. Her decision to run away from home, her decision to live in Newport, her choice to become an art major—up until now the had seemed like monumental choices that affected her future. Standing in the alley, she could see they were nothing in comparison to what she faced now. She looked at the portal. The emotional part of her wanted to run away, to flee for home and hide under her bed until everything was back to normal. Her logical mind told her that things would only get worse if she turned away; for herself, and for her friends. For a long moment she stood there as the two sides went to war with each other.
Cortez seemed to have sense enough not to interrupt her. He stood with his eyes shut as if in meditation.
Finally, April came to a decision.
"All right, I'll do it," she said.
Cortez opened his eyes and gestured towards the portal. "Vamos. Enter the light."
"Don't say that. It sounds too ominous," she pleaded. Her knees knocked together as she tottered closer to the portal. Despite her hesitant steps, she found herself all too quickly standing in front of portal, just a hoof's breathe away from its open 'petals'. She looked at him over her shoulder. "Just... tell me what's going to happen," she whispered. Her voice was like a small foal's, pleading to her father to chase away her bad dreams and hold her until her fears ceased.
"You are about to take the first step in the longest journey of your life," Cortez said. Then he smiled at her; it felt so warm and reassuring. "Don't worry. I'll be waiting, right here."
April turned back to the sighed. "I must be insane to be doing this."
She heard him chuckle behind her. "Yes. That's pretty much a given," he said. As she lifted a hoof to place it on the white, pulsing surface, he interrupted her. "Oh, I almost forgot. When you are ready to come back, pay a visit to a friend of mine. Her name is Heartstrings. Lyra Heartstrings."
April nodded and stepped into the portal. The surface under her feet was soft and compressed a little as she walked. She moved towards the light, looking around and the pulsing blue surface around her. She reached out to touch it. The surface pulsed, and the portal swung shut behind her. Now she could only go forward. There was a strange pulsing sound, keeping time with the beating of her own heart. The colors began to shift. She watched as the movement of her legs left a trail of ghostly limbs behind her, echoes of where she had stood moments before. She reached out towards the light, and it curled around her body like a cat wanting to be petted. The world turned white. She continued to move despite her blindness.
Suddenly, gravity shifted. She found herself falling out of the other end of the portal to land on her belly on the hard stone floor below it. Her vision swam and her ears rang. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear them. She blinked. A set of hooves had appeared in front of her. She raised her head and met the eyes of the other being. Though she struggled, April found herself sliding into unconsciousness. Her last coherent thought was a sort of detached puzzlement over her watcher's mane. It was a bright cobalt blue.
April Rain smiled. 'Emma thought a pink mane was absurd; just wait until I tell her about this...'
Author's Note
In the game you feed the detective candies that you roll in some unidentifiable radioactive green goo April finds at the bottom of a trash can. This was one of the few puzzles I hated. The method I used seems much less evil. On the other hand, the scene with Constable Guybrush was golden.
