And Did Those Feet, in Ancient Time

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Graham Daniels stepped out of the tube station to be greeted by his old friend, the London rain. It was a close relationship, they met almost every day. He sighed, put on his raincoat in the hopes of retaining some dryness, and began his walk home.

As he walked, he reflected on the day before him. He woke up, had two pieces of toast with jam, as usual. He read the newspaper on the way to work, and tried to convince himself he cared about atrocities in far off lands he’d never heard of.

A full shift at the hardware shop, and only twice did he consider brutally murdering customers with whatever large saw or hammer happened to be near.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad day for him.

The grey blanket of sky gave no hints to the time, but his watch told him it was 5:43pm when he entered his small third-floor apartment. Raincoat goes on the rack, beer goes on the coffee table, and arse goes on the couch.

After drinking his beer and watching an episode Doctor Who, where Christopher Eccleston teamed up with Charles Dickens to do…something, Graham went into the bathroom, and looked into the mirror. Looking straight back at him was a tall, somewhat muscular man of 43 years with a receding hairline and some stubble building up around his jaw.

He spent half a minute weighing up whether to use the straight razor sitting next to the sink, and then left the bathroom unshaven. Three uneventful hours and one microwaved pizza later, Graham was asleep, another day of his life spent and gone.

__________________________________________________________________________

Charlie Robinson left the vibrantly decorated classroom, and stepped out into the mild sunlight. He whistled tunelessly as he walked to the staff parking of Buckland Primary School. He got in his car, an average white sedan, and drove towards the ocean.

He came to the end of York road, and saw the ferry leaving for Calais as he turned right into the A20, heading towards Folkestone. On the radio, KMFM was playing some pop song, indistinguishable from any other put out these last few months.

It wasn’t long before he pulled into the driveway in front of his house. It was a nice enough house for one fellow, but was definitely built with a couple in mind. There was a bit too much empty space with only one person. Charlie brushed those thoughts away from his mind, and unlocked the door. Nothing had changed since he left that morning.

He opened up the laptop sitting on the desk near the front window, and logged into Facebook. A message from Annette, saying they should meet up again sometime. Maybe soon, the house would feel full. Charlie smiled at the thought. He sent off a message saying they’d get dinner on Friday.

Charlie was happy to the point he practically floated to the kitchen.

He made himself a simple salad with chicken in it, took his bowl over to the sofa and flicked on the telly.

It wasn’t the most scintillating of shows; it appeared to be a one hour documentary on plant life native to Cornwall. Instead, Charlie turned his focus away from the show to the events of the day, to his hopeful relationship with Annette, to his life as a whole. After thinking on it for quarter of an hour, he concluded his musings with one statement.

Life’s not so bad, is it?

__________________________________________________________________________

The clock was exactly 4:00am when Graham was woken up by the passing lorry. At least, he thought it was a lorry. When the rumbling vibrations continued for far more than the time it would take one to pass, Graham had a far more worrying thought.

“Oh bollocks,” he said, “Earthquake!”

Ten seconds later, he was sheltering himself under the doorway into his bedroom. The rumbling got louder and louder, the vibrations increased in intensity. Graham noticed that nothing was moving, despite the shaking and shuddering he felt. It was as if there were earthquakes localised entirely within his body. Stay calm, he thought, close your eyes and count to 5.

One

This can’t be possible!

Two

I can barely hold my balance

Three

This can’t be an earthquake, I can’t hear anybody else panicking

Four

How have I not fallen down?

Five

It’s…over?

__________________________________________________________________________

Graham opened his eyes; it was a bright sunny day, with a few scattered clouds. He stood somewhere in the countryside, surrounded by hills. This wasn’t right. He focused his mind, urged himself not to panic.

Follow the railroad tracks; they’ll lead to a town.

He’d been walking for what he assumed to be ten minutes when he met another man on the tracks. He was a young fellow, maybe in his late twenties, with short brown hair, a beardless face, and simple eyeglasses.

“Hello!” the man said, waving. Graham walked over to him.

“Hi there, my name’s Charlie,” He continued, “You wouldn’t be able to tell me where I am, would you? You see, this might sound odd, but I was in bed, when all of a sudden I was jarred awake by all this shaking. Just as it got too much to bear, I—”

Graham chose that moment to interrupt him “Well, I’m in the same boat as you, it would seem.”

“Ah,” Charlie said, “Well, at least I’m not the only one in this mess. And you are…?”

“Graham,” he answered.

“Well Graham,” Charlie explained, “We should probably find out where we are. I’ve been looking around for a while, and all I’ve seen is countryside, hills, and this railroad, not a single person in sight.”

“Maybe we’re in Wales,” Graham muttered.

With that, they followed the railroad tracks, making simple conversation to try and hide how unnerved they both were. After twenty minutes or so of walking, any illusion of normalcy to their situation evaporated at the sight of a bright pink pony. Wherever they were, it was a lot further from home than Wales.

Graham and Charlie had been staring, mouths agape, at the pony for about twenty seconds before it (she?) noticed them and didn’t walk, didn’t trot, but bounced up to them. Graham would have marked that as the oddest thing he would ever see in his life if the pony didn’t begin talking to them immediately afterward.

“Hi there!” she (definitely she) yelled, “My name’s Pinkie Pie and I’ve never seen you before and that’s exciting because I can make new friends and I know you’re new because I know everypony in town but you two aren’t ponies and maybe you’re both some kind of cool new animal and that’d be great because then Fluttershy would get to meet you and she loves animals and I love having friends and so we could be friends and it’d be great and we could throw a party at Fluttershy’s house and all her animal friends could come to meet you and I’d bring everypony in town!” she yelled in the space of about ten seconds.

The two humans were still too shocked to talk, but the pony tried to continue to converse anyway.

“What are your names?” she tried after a while.

“Charlie,” he finally managed to stammer.

“That’s an odd name, but I like it!” she said, “And yours, I hope it’s as fun a name to say as Charlie, ‘cause that’s fun to say! Charlie! Charlie! Charlie! You should try it sometime!”

Graham desperately tried to get himself to speak, to say something. Eventually, he managed to get one word out.

“Fuck,” he said quietly.

“Ooh! I’ve never heard either of those names before! I like that one! Fuck! It’s so cool sounding! I could trumpet that name from the rooftops!”

Graham blinked, and now the pony was on the roof of a nearby house, randomly alternating between yelling “Charlie!” and “Fuck!”

The sounds coming from the outside caused the person, well, pony, living there to go outside and see what was happening. The pony, this one with a light blue coat, saw the two humans standing near her house, and practically disappeared in the other direction. A few minutes later, the blue pony returned, accompanied by a dozen others, all with frightened or confused expressions.

The pony at the head of the group walked ahead of the others, and stood before the two. She had brownish fur, grey mane, and…was she wearing glasses? After an extremely tense silence, she spoke.

“Hello?” she said, seemingly also at a loss for words.

“All you ponies speak English?” asked Charlie, at the same time as the grey-maned pony said

“You speak Equestrian?”

Eventually, a voice from the middle of the crowd asked if they were some type of exotic animal. A murmur broke out among the crowd, as all the ponies swapped theories on what they might have been. The head pony turned around and waited for them to quiet down.

“I. . .I really don’t know what they are,” she said to the group, her voice trembling ever so slightly, “I don’t think anypony knows.”

She took a deep breath, hoping to regain some composure. Facing Charlie and Graham again she tried to converse, hoof scraping the ground in what Graham guessed to be nervousness.

“You, you both are here with peaceful intentions, right? Because--” she said stepping forward, trying to be brave, “I am responsible for this town and I shan’t let them come in harm’s way.”

Charlie motioned Graham to speak, so he looked down at the pony.

“I don’t even want to be here and I’m not bloody supposed to be here. . .but,” he said, calming himself down, “This man and I are not here to hurt or harm anyone.”

Some of the crowd looked more relaxed than before, but many continued eyeing the two of them with suspicious awe. One voice from the back piped up and asked “What’s a man?”, prompting more heated debate from the. . .herd, is that what I call them? Graham thought.

Another pony yelled over everyone else “Let Twilight see them!”, which left the crowd silent, looking at the lead pony for her decision. She looked at Graham for quite a while, then did the same to Charlie, before announcing her opinion to human and pony alike.

“These two,” she began, “are creatures the likes of which none of us have seen before. This much is certain. Twilight might be able to tell us more about what exactly they are. Until then I say it is our responsibility as ponies of this town to look after these two until Twilight tells us what she can. They have assured us they are peaceful, and I am inclined to believe them.”

It was immediately evident not everyone was on board with her plan, but enough were that the group dispersed, leaving Graham, Charlie and the pony standing in front of the house.

She gestured to the two men to follow her. They did so silently, still shocked by how unreal their situation was.

They were guided to a small house on the outskirts of a village, presumably Ponyville, and told they were to live there temporarily. Graham got the idea that the ponies were more scared than unfriendly, and one pony even told them not to hesitate to ask for assistance.

Without a word to Charlie, without any attempts to figure out his location, what had brought him here, or even the time, Graham found one of the two undersized beds, curled himself into a ball, and slept, hoping there would be more clarity upon awakening.

__________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, Graham got out of the bed, and went out to the window. It was dark outside, but there were lights on in the town and lights on in the house. Graham took this to mean there was electricity in Ponyville.

He walked into what seemed to be the living room, and saw Charlie sitting awkwardly on a sofa too small for him, drinking from a mug.

“It’s just water,” said Charlie, noticing Graham’s look, “There’s a kitchen back there. They’ve given us water, along with some vegetables, and even a few cupcakes. I tried one; they’re really good.”

Graham just grunted in response. He didn’t like this at all, and found it more annoying that Charlie seemed able to adapt so easily. The silence was cut by Charlie talking again.

“I think tomorrow we should find out more about where we are, what’s happened to us,” said Charlie.

Graham couldn’t disagree with that, so he answered

“Makes sense. This place is a town; they should have a mayor or something. Maybe we could find out about their culture and—” Graham stopped himself. “No,” he started again, “This is ridiculous, all this is ridiculous. We’re surrounded by talking ponies! We are in a town named Ponyville! This whole thing is insane! I must be dreaming, or in a coma, or something.”

Charlie still just sat there calmly, as Graham ranted. Once he was done, Charlie simply said,

“Of course this is insane, but going insane from how insane this place is won’t help. We just need to stay calm and work something out, even if it means accepting the fact that we will have to deal with multi-coloured talking unicorns.”

Graham begrudgingly accepted his statement, and then went to the door to the bedroom.

“There are beds here,” he said, “It seems like night and it’s probably better if don’t end up getting jetlag from warping to bloody Ponyville or whatever happened to us.”

With that, he left the room, curled back into the small bed, and dreamt of earth.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was 7:27am when Graham woke up this time, and he knew, because there was a clock in the hall, and these ponies apparently used human time. His stomach picked up the idea that it was time for breakfast, so it growled as Graham walked into the kitchen.

Just as Charlie had said, a plate of cupcakes sat on the counter. With slight apprehension, Graham tried one. It was delicious, far better than any bakery he’d been to. Maybe Ponyville did have its upsides.

However, good baking wasn’t enough to make Graham forget how greatly he wanted to be home, so he went out the front door and headed towards the town. Everybody (Graham couldn’t get himself to think Everypony) turned to look at him as he passed them.

Nobody pointed, or screamed, or ran like yesterday, but his presence was an anomaly, he was something strange and new, beyond their imaginations. At least Graham had the ease of Unicorns and Pegasi and talking ponies appear in fiction back home. Graham got the feeling humans hadn’t ever existed to them, or hadn’t even appeared in the Pony’s fiction.

The town itself had some human features, cottages with timber frames and thatched roofs. Most of the buildings seemed as though they would fit in well if dropped into rural Shropshire in the 1800s. Graham crossed a bridge over a small river, and ended up seeing what was easily the tallest building in the town, a cylindrically shaped tower of three stories, with two balconies and an impressive spire almost as tall as the building itself. Graham wagered this would be a town hall or some other administrative building, so he boldly walked in.

A drab brown pony who managed to give off the unmistakable air of a bureaucrat looked at the giant creature standing before him with shock. He went into a back room, and returned a few minutes later with the same pony who’d guided him and Charlie to the house yesterday.

“Hello again,” she said, far more composed than their last meeting, “I do hope you’ve gotten settled in now. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mayor Mare, and this is the town of Ponyville.”

Upon seeing Graham’s blank look, she said,

“Although I have a feeling you may need more explanation than that. You are clearly not of Equestria, and nopony has ever seen a creature such as you.”

“I’ve never seen talking ponies before, you know,” Graham said, “And you’re right about not being from Equestria, I’m from Earth, I’m a human.”

“A human?” said the mayor, puzzled, “I’ve never heard of such a species. How did you learn to speak Equestrian?” she asked.

“It’s not Equestrian, where I’m from,” said Graham, “It’s called English. It’s one of many languages humans speak and I’m rather confused as to why everybo—as to why everypony speaks it.”

“This the language everypony in Equestria speaks,” she said, now looking extremely puzzled, “But I’d like to change the subject. Ponyville is just a small town; we don’t have the amenities of Canterlot or the other cities. But living in our humble town is one of Equestria’s brightest scholars: Twilight Sparkle. Unfortunately, she will not be back for quite a few days, as she is at the archives in Manechester.”

Manechester! The mental image of these ponies speaking with oop north accents brought Graham a little smile. He continued listening to the Mayor.

“Once she returns,” She continued, “She can hopefully tell us more about what you are. After that, you will probably be sent to Canterlot, to meet the Princess.”

Unicorns, Princesses, Ponyville, the whole thing was starting to sound like a kid’s cartoon. Graham might’ve found it funny, if he weren’t the poor sod stuck in Equestria. So instead he thanked the Mayor for giving him and Charlie the house for the duration of his stay, and returned back to tell Charlie what he’d learnt.

Chapter 2

“Ah, there you are,” Charlie said as Graham walked in. He sat in the same seat as yesterday, munching on one of the cupcakes.

“Here I am,” Graham said, sitting on the chair opposite him. “I went out into the town and spoke to the mayor; that pony who lead us to this house.”

“And what did you find out?” he asked.

“Well, here’s what I can explain. We are someplace called Equestria. I don’t know if it’s a province, a region, a country, or their whole sodding world, but that’s where we are. Now then, this place, Ponyville is just some tiny village, but there’s some great genius that lives here Twilight Twinkle or something, but she’s gone up north--”

“Up north?” Charlie asked.

“Manechester. That’s not a joke, as much as I wish this whole bloody thing was.”

Charlie paused, then nodded, so Graham continued.

“Basically, we’re stuck here until she gets back, then we get to go to the capital city and meet the royal family. By that point, we should know how buggered we are in terms of getting back home.”

“So we just potter about this town until she gets back from Manechester?” Charlie asked.

“So it would seem,” he replied.

“Oh yes,” Charlie said, “That pony from yesterday, Pinkie Pie, she came by when you were out. Dropped off some more food and I asked her a bit about the town.”

“And she said?”

“Well, it couldn’t really pick up on most of it, I mean Christ, mile a minute is a pretty big understatement with how quickly she speaks, but I heard about a few local landmarks, like there’s this enormous apple farm on the outskirts of town. Apparently apples are the real popular food around here, but there’s also cakes and pastries and the like. I think the ponies are vegetarian, which is a shame. Terrible shame, really, as I could really go for a Cornish pasty right about now.”

“Thanks a heap,” said Graham, “Now I’m thinking about Cornish bloody pasties and there are none to be found!”

“Also,” Charlie continued, ignoring Graham’s complaint, “Pinkie Pie asked me a bit about you. I said you didn’t smile too much, hope that’s alright. She said you remind her of a donkey she once knew.”

“Well isn’t that just great?”

“One last thing, she still thinks your name is ‘fuck’, you might want to correct that next time you see her.”

______________________________________________________________________________

A few minutes later, Charlie left the home to take a walk through the town. Graham stayed in, saying he’d rather not talk to the ponies for a little while. The sun was starting to come down when Charlie store into the house holding two bowls of grass, with the occasional dandelion or daisy thrown in.

“Dinner!” he announced proudly.

“That,” Graham said “Is a lawnmower’s grass bag, deposited into two bowls.”

“It’s Equestrian cuisine!” Charlie declared, plonking a bowl down in front of Graham.

“Oh, I don’t really think I can, I mean, errr, I had my appendix removed, so no sorry, just can’t. That’s why. My appendix. Not because it looks like arse.”

Graham looked down at the bowl, and had a long internal assessment of his hunger. He reached down to pick up a fork, remembered there was no cutlery, swore under his breath, and picked up a few leaves. He cautiously tried one. It tasted, well, it tasted just like any salad. So he ate, picking his way around the flowers and blades of grass.

“Something rather odd happened while I was out today,” Charlie told him from across the table.

“I’d be more surprised if something odd didn’t happen, but go on.”

“Well, I was in the town, when this Irish pony and her friend walked up to me,”

“An Irish pony.” Graham said flatly.

“Well, she didn’t sound Irish, but she was green, and had a harp or a lyre just above her leg. I mean, Celtic bands play those, right?”

“I suppose. So what did the Irish pony do?”

“So, she comes up to me, and starts asking all these odd questions about me, which I guess is normal considering how humans aren’t really real to them, you know what I mean? But she was really, and I mean really enthusiastic about seeing a human, something about it just felt odd.”

“That’s it?” Graham asked.

“Oh, and her friend,” Charlie continued, “This cream coloured pony with blue and pink hair, there was something off about her too. Twice during the questions, she asked the green pony, to stop harassing me. Kept saying ‘Lyra, come on, we’ve got places to be, why are you so interested by this animal?’. Thing is, her accent kept changing when she spoke. I mean, she went from French to this Yiddish sort of accent, then when they said goodbye, she sounded like the sort of ‘trendy American teenager’ voice.”

“I think they’re called ‘valley-goer’ or something like that. And with that green pony,” Graham said with a smirk, “Seems like you have an obsessed fan, congratulations.”

“Don’t think she won’t be like that to you if she sees you,” Charlie countered.

______________________________________________________________________________

A little while later, the two were milling about the house when Graham went over to Charlie to ask him something.

“You know what I’ve noticed the pony’s cuisine is lacking?” he asked.

“Still no Cornish pasties,” Charlie replied in a sorrowful tone.

“No, you berk, I’m talking about the lack of booze. If we were back home, it’d be a Friday night, and we’ve nothing to drink.”

At this point Charlie began to explain the only alcohol he had heard of was cider being sold at the apple farm, but had to stop mid sentence upon realising that Graham had wandered off to find a place to drink. Charlie simply shook his head and followed him out the door.

________________________________________________________________________________

The evening air was still warm, with a mild breeze that calmed and relaxed Charlie, as he inhaled the lovely fresh air of a land with no pollution. Graham stood next to him, mumbling angrily about the size of the queue in front of them. Charlie gazed around, and saw near the front of the queue stood the two ponies who’d spoken to him earlier.

“She’s green, has a folk instrument, or at least a tattoo of one, and she's getting a drink. You’re right, she is Irish,” Graham said when Charlie pointed her out.

Eventually, they reached the stand, manned by a large red pony, the first male they’d seen in the town. The red pony stood there, looking at the two humans with a quizzical expression.

“Two ciders please,” Charlie said somewhat cautiously.

The red pony tilted his head to the left, highlighting a crude drawing showing one cup of cider and a gold coin.

“Ah, coins,” said Charlie, “You see, we’re not from around here, as you’ve probably guessed, and we don’t have any coins, so just this once, for us two visitors here, could we have two cups free?”

The red pony mulled it over for a good twenty seconds, much to Graham’s nervousness, before finally making his decision, and soliloquising upon it in a most eloquent and grandiose manor.

“Eeyup,” he said, and began to pour the two cups.

In a rare show of gratitude, Graham thanked the large red stallion before taking his cup. He and Charlie walked to a nearby tree and sat under it together. Graham sat there, eyeing his cup and looked about ready to salivate over it. Upon seeing this, Charlie scooted himself to be a bit further from Graham.

“Cheers,” Charlie said, raising the mug.

“Cheers,” Graham replied then said cheerily, “I like these mugs, nice and medieval looking, proper wood with metal rings; they’re like a little barrel with a handle on the end.”

He took a large gulp, wiped his mouth, and swallowed the cider. In one instant, his face went from elation, to utter frustration.

“Oh sod,” he said, “This is just apple juice! Cider’s supposed to be alcoholic!”

“When Americans say cider, don’t they mean the non-alcoholic kind?” Charlie wondered aloud.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Graham said, burying his face in his hands, “I’m stuck with talking ponies and they talk like bloody yanks!”

__________________________________________________________________________

After a few minutes of silence, a pony walked past. She was orange, with a blonde mane, and wore a cowboy hat. Graham stood up, and boldly walked over to her, Charlie following behind.

“Howdy,” she said when Graham approached

“Uh, howdy,” he responding, thinking great, now I have to keep up the accent or she’ll think I was mocking her.

“Something I can help y’all with?” she asked.

“Well a’spose ya could,” Graham said, doing an absolutely atrocious cowboy impersonation, “My partner and I are mighty licked after travellin’ all this way, we’re not from Equestria, y’see, and we were hopin’ y’all could tell us where the nearest saloon might be.”

“Hmm,” the pony said, scratching her mane, “Nearest saloon from here’d be up in Appleloosa, which is pretty far, but if y’all wait ‘till tomorrow, I reckon y’all might could catch a train there.”

“Also,” she said, changing the subject, “Name’s Applejack, and I heard about y’all from Pinkie Pie. Said you’re real nice folks. Which one of y’all is Charlie and which one is fuck?”

“I’m Charlie,” said Charlie

“I’m not fuck,” said Graham, “I’m Graham, but thank you kindly for the help, Applejack.”

She simply tipped the brim of her hat, and continued walking down the path in front of the trees, leaving the two standing alone in the path quietly.

“Why the hell were you talking like that?” Charlie asked eventually.

Chapter 3

Graham and Charlie were given their own personal carriage for the train ride to Appleloosa. It would have seemed a nice option, if the two hadn’t figured out this was because most ponies on the train were too frightened to sit with them. But, despite its root cause being someone irking for Graham, he was rather glad for the extra space and privacy. Both men however, had been somewhat aggrieved that morning, for a reason entirely separate from the railway journey. For yesterday had been both Charlie and Graham’s first experience with using the chamber pot, a device they would be well familiar with before too long.

In the hours since they had boarded the train in Ponyville, the green trees and hills of the lands surrounding the town had given way to a barren desert, where the only life Graham could make out were the innumerate cacti dotting the landscape.

Getting on the train itself had caused some problems, as Charlie and Graham had no money and one can’t have everything handed to himself for free, even in a land of colourful talking ponies. Thankfully they had spoken to the Mayor about their financial predicament, and she had been generous enough to supply them with return tickets to Appleloosa and twenty large golden coins, called bits.

Gazing out the window again, Graham caught sight of a massive apple orchard, below a large hill. Atop that hill stood the largest of the apple tree and. . . was that a buffalo?

“Looks like one,” Charlie said when Graham showed him, “Do you think they talk too?”

“Your friend Pinkie Pie says that Donkeys can talk, I don’t see why Buffalo wouldn’t.”

Their conversation was halted by the blowing of a whistle and hearing a pony yell “This stop, Appleloosa!”. The train slowly ground to a halt, and Graham and Charlie walked out the door.

They left the station quickly, as they hadn’t any bags. The evening sky was a brilliant shade of orange, giving the entire town an orange hue. The buildings here were extremely different from Ponyville, instead these had an American Frontier feel to them, going so far as to have a Sheriff’s office, horse drawn carriages, and of course, the saloon.

Of all the observations one could make upon arriving at Appleloosa, Graham noticed only the saloon, and bolted down the road, leaving Charlie standing bewildered in front of the railway station.

______________________________________________________________________________

The saloon was a simple two story wooden building, following the cowboy motif well enough to have a swinging wooden door. Inside a pony wearing a blue and white vest sat in the corner playing ragtime piano. Graham strode over to the bartender, a pony with a rather impressive handlebar moustache.

“Can I get ya one?” The barman drawled at him.

“Sure,” Graham responded. The barkeeper reached under the counter, stopped, and looked down below. He got back up a few seconds later and said, “Sorry, we’re out for the moment, but if you wait a few minutes, somepony’ll be here with more.”

Graham grunted in annoyance, but stayed at the bar.

“I’ve never seen anypony like you before,” the bartender said, making conversation, “You one of them there Zee-boor-ahs?”

“A zebra? A bloody zebra? Yeah, sure, I’m a zebra,” Graham said wearily.

The bartender then proceeded to ask Graham a multitude of questions about Zebra culture, which Graham answered to the best of his ability. His ability, however, was non-existent, so he just made up whatever answer he fancied. By his accounts, most Zebras never left their homeland because they feared they would be put in zoos, and do not interact with other species much, except for the many Dragon immigrants in their home, who often intermarry with Zebras.

The bartender listened quietly as Graham told him of the state of his Zebra home, to which the bartender responded, “Ayup, sure sounds like what I’ve heard about you Zebras.”

Truth be told, Graham had quite a hard time keeping a straight face.

Although, he was very serious a few minutes later, when the bartender told him the stock was here. Graham more or less threw his bits at the barman, and in return was handed a salt lick.

“It’s bloody salt!” he yelled in what came close to a shriek.

“I reckon so,” the barpony calmly replied.

“You reckon?! Are you so stupid you don’t know?!”

“I know it’s salt,” he replied angrily, “And I reckon you ain’t getting any! Are all Zebras as discourteous as you?”

“Zebras?” asked Charlie, who had just entered the saloon and now stood behind Graham.

“We’re Zebras and this man won’t sell us any salt!” Graham yelled at Charlie, arms flailing like a lunatic, before storming out.

______________________________________________________________________________

The night air carried a definite chill, in stark contrast to the uncomfortable heat of earlier that day. Charlie briefly considered going back to the saloon, but pulled up his jacket and began to search the town for Graham. Being a small town, the people of Appleloosa had already heard of the appearance of two strange animals in town. The novelty had already worn off, and nopony seemed to bat an eye at Charlie at this point. Maybe this town had more in common with the frontier than just looks.

It shouldn’t be hard to find him, Charlie thought, he’s the only human here.

Eventually he found him, sitting on a fence near the outskirts of the town, looking up at the sky.

“Even the fucking stars look wrong. Can’t find any constellations. Just random dots,” Graham said quietly as Charlie sat down next to him.

“The same thing happens if you go to the Southern Hemisphere,” Charlie said, in a failed attempt at reassurance.

“Well we’re not in bloody Australia are we? Equestria. . .” he said, then sighed, “It’s just too wrong. I’m not ready yet, I can’t face all this sodding pony stuff. It’s just. . .” he trailed off.

“Look, it’s a big shock, and I’ve no idea why I’m not flipping out about it right now. Once we get back to Ponyville, maybe we should just stay in the house for a while, give ourselves more time to adjust to all this,” he said, gesturing at the shadow of a pony crossing the street in front of them, “It’s no rush to get adjusted, we probably have a fair amount of time before that pony gets back from Manechester.”

“I suppose--” Graham started but was cut off by the sound of a bell ringing.

“Come on,” Charlie said softly, extending his hand to pull Graham up, “Time to catch the train.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Thanks.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Graham didn’t leave the house for the next two days, instead spending his time helping Charlie to write a record of all they knew about Equestria. The writing of the journal began with Charlie asking Graham how many times bigger than Belgium Equestria was.

“Why do you need to know that?” Graham had asked.

“Haven’t you noticed that most people, when describing the size of an area, will mention how large it is in comparison to Belgium?”

“No,” Graham said bluntly.

“Well I have,” Charlie continued, “But I suppose we don’t really know the size of this place anyway, so it’s neither here nor there.”

“Do you actually know the size of Belgium?”

“Now that you mention it,” Charlie had said, “No.”

So they left out any mention of Equestria’s size in proportion to Belgium, and instead wrote of the culture, cuisine, architecture, language, or to be more precise, the use of American English, and whatever else they could, filling the pages of an empty book Charlie had picked up at a local shop.

It was on the third day after their return from Appaloosa, however, that they were invited to help a pony with something neither of them were expected. Graham and Charlie were to go to a boutique, and help the proprietor by explaining their fashion sense.

Graham was the first to notice and read the letter, written by a hand, or hoof really, with elegant penmanship.

To the two gentlecolts not of Equestria.

It has come to my attention that you two are creatures none of us have seen before. It has also come to my attention that you two possess apparel none of us have seen before. If it is even at all possible I humbly request the grace of your presence at the Carousel Boutique at your earliest convenience.

The seamstress Rarity.

So, later that day, Graham and Charlie stood face to face with the seamstress Rarity. Well, not face to face, they’d have to kneel down if they wanted to. She extended her most cordial greetings, that is, she said “My most cordial greetings” and began to examine the outfits they wore. After a few minutes Graham felt his jacket being tugged, and was quite surprised to find it surrounded by an aura of blue energy. He jumped back in shock.

“Oh Celestia, you must forgive me!” Rarity said, “I was told you are not from Equestria, I had no idea that you would be unaccustomed to magic. I’m ever so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Graham said, somewhat calmer.

“Well, I’ve never seen a coat made from such a material before. What is it exactly?” she asked.

“Leather,” Graham answered bluntly.

“Leather you say, as in the skin of a. . .” Rarity stopped and looked downright horrified. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and carried on as if everything were normal for her, “That is certainly, erm, unique. I wouldn’t mention the origin of that coat to anypony else you see if I were you.”

“Maybe we should explain,” Charlie said, jumping into the conversation, “You see, we don’t have fur like you do, so clothes are quite necessary to us for everyday use to keep us warm. Considering I’ve yet to see a pony to wear clothes, I’d say they’re a formality here,” Charlie paused for Rarity to nod, and then continued, “So we need clothes that actually keep us warm. Leather is one of many, and I assure you most of them are not made from skins.”

“Well, that is reassuring,” Rarity said “and I would like to use your fashion here. The mayor told me you shall soon be at Canterlot, and the arrival might provoke a new trend. I hope to have made my own, wait, what species are you exactly?”

“Human,” Graham and Charlie said simultaneously.

“Yes, I hope to have my own line of human-chic outfits before everypony in Canterlot starts designing them.”

After that, she continued to examine the outfits, occasionally using her magic to move some segment, or asking some question about the specifics of the clothes. Aside from her infrequent questions, she did not speak to either man, as her focus was entirely on the clothes, almost entranced by the exoticism of Graham’s leather jacket with jeans, and Charlie’s simple jacket and slacks.

An hour later and Graham was well about done with being examined. He was lucky enough for the session to end at that point, and Rarity bestowed her most sincere gratitude and sent them on their way.

As they passed near the middle of the town, Graham noticed an actual Zebra conversing with a pony. As he walked past, he managed to get a snippet of the conversation.

“Zecora, did you hear about all the trouble a Zebra caused up in Appaloosa?” the pony had asked.

“The story I’ve heard, cannot be true; such trouble a Zebra would not brew!” The Zebra, whose name was evidently Zecora, replied.

Now would be the perfect time to whistle innocently, Graham reflected.

“D’you think we’ve made a bad impression with the whole leather thing?” Charlie asked as they walked.

“Probably not, I mean, we’re from entirely different universes, they’d be pretty stupid if they didn’t expect any culture clash.”

“I suppose,” Charlie said.

Any doubt about what the ponies felt about the two was erased when they returned to the house, and found the side wall adorned with a massive, intricate mural, depicting the their first encounter with Pinkie Pie in the woods outside Ponyville. Above the image a message was written with white paint.

Welcome to Equestria, enjoy your stay!

______________________________________________________________________________

In the days since he had arrived in Ponyville, Graham had started to form a morning routine. He would wake up, eat an apple, and imagine a full fry-up breakfast. Toast, baked beans, fried eggs, sausages, bacon--the proper kind, not those thin strips with more fat than meat. Charlie could come to the fry-up breakfast too, he could have one of those Cornish pasties he would always go on about. It’s not fair to say the mural didn’t lift Graham’s spirits, but he did miss his old eating habits, and so imagining a full breakfast became somewhat of a tradition for him.

This morning though, two days after his experience with Rarity, his breakfast fantasy was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Graham walked over to answer it and found a purple Unicorn looking at him.

“Oh wow, they were right about you,” she said, then extended a hoof, “I am Twilight Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia of Equestria.”

Chapter 4

Twilight Sparkle led the two men to the library, which was in actually built inside a large of a Oak tree. Only ten second has passed since the door closed did Twilight begin to speak.

“Right, take off your clothes,” she said briskly.

“Errm, no,” Graham said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“You see,” Charlie began to explain, as it seemed he always had to, “Where we’re from, we usually wear clothes. Not wearing them isn’t normally considered socially acceptable.”

“How odd,” she said, “I can’t think of any culture that finds nakedness taboo. You two really are from somewhere different. Either way, I do require you take them off. This is science, after all.”

Graham and Charlie uneasily began to strip, the purple unicorn watching as they did.

“Wait, does this mean that experience at the fashion shop was foreplay?” Graham said, hoping to ease some of the tension.

Charlie looked at him blankly.

“You know, because last time that unicorn was playing about with our clothes and now. . . oh never mind!”

Twilight continued to examine the two of them closely, her face alternating between puzzlement and excitement.

“This is amazing!” she said after a few minutes, “A previously unknown species, incomparable to any I’ve seen before! I can’t wait to inform the Princess of this!”

“That’s great,” Graham said rather disinterestedly.

“I know,” Twilight replied with a huge grin, “But now,” her face adopting a more serious question, “I need to figure out more about your kind, the . . .”

“Humans,” Charlie answered helpfully.

“Right, humans,” Twilight paused for thought, “Well, one of the largest differences I can think of is that you’re bipedal. . .”

“Huh?” Graham interrupted.

“It means we stand on two legs, Graham,” Charlie said in a somewhat patronising tone.

“If I can get back to what I was saying,” Twilight said, “Are you two young for your species?”

“We’re both fully grown adults,” Graham answered, quite confused about the question.

“The reason I asked you is because the only bipedal capable of speech are extremely young Dragons, like Spike. . .”

“Dragons are real here!?!” Charlie yelled, taking his turn to interrupt Twilight.

“What do you mean by here?” Twilight asked, “Where are you from?

“It’s hard to explain,” began Charlie, “We’re not quite sure how to put it ourselves. The best answer would probably be a different reality. Most of the animals that live and speak here exist in our world, but just as animals, they can’t speak or really do much of what they do here. From what I can tell, you also have animals that just appear in our mythology, like Dragons.”

“Dragons are just a myth over there?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah,” Graham said, “There’s even a legend of one man, Saint George, who killed a Dragon single-handedly. He’s even named the patron hero of our country, in a way.”

As Graham was telling this, he didn’t notice the appearance of a small scaled creature in the room, purple just like Twilight.

“K-kills Dragons,” he stammered, “You two don’t want to do that to me, right?”

Twilight laughed, “Don’t be silly, Spike! Of course they won’t,” she reassured him, but looked over at Graham and Charlie with a concerned expression.

“We won’t,” Graham told them.

______________________________________________________________________________

Another hour of questioning the human anatomy and culture continued, as Twilight explained they would soon be presented to the Princesses and she needed to be a human expert as soon as she could.

She was being lectured by Charlie about the lack of fur in most places, when an owl flew downstairs and landed on Twilight’s back.

“Oh, not now Owlowiscious,” she chided him with considerable irritation.

“Just look at that,” Graham said in mock annoyance, “First Harry Potter and now every wizard has to have a bloody owl!”

“So, humans have magic too?” queried Twilight.

“They’re like Dragons,” Graham said, “Only appear in fiction.”

A few minutes later, the two were sent home, and told to be ready to leave early tomorrow morning, as they would catch the train to Canterlot.

______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, like yesterday, their breakfast was interrupted by a knock at the door. When Graham opened it, once again he was greeted by Twilight Sparkle.

“I sent a letter to the Princess,” she told him

“And?”

“She’s requested you and the other’s presence in Canterlot immediately.

“Charlie’s his name,” Graham said, “and I’m Graham.”

“Oh, sorry” Twilight said, blushing slightly, “I was so caught up in studying your species I forgot to even ask a name!”

As the three of them were walking to the railroad station, Charlie asked “So, will you be escorting us to the capital?”

“Of course,” she replied, “Well, I’m not the only one. Five more will be with us. I believe you’ve met most of them already.”

Sure enough, they boarded a carriage with Twilight and found themselves with Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, and two Pegasi they had not yet met. One, with a rainbow mane, was in the air, flapping her wings, while the other sat in her seat quietly.

“Alright girls,” Twilight said, “I know most of you know these two but I want to introduce them anyway. This is Graham, and this is Charlie, and they’re humans from a strange land beyond Equestria.”

“Great to see you again!” Pinkie Pie said with a squeal.

“We actually haven’t met those two yet,” Charlie said, gesturing to the Pegasi.

“I’m, um, Fluttershy,” the yellow-furred one whispered.

“And I’m Rainbow Dash, faster flier in all of Equestria!” the other boasted.

“Why do you always introduce yourself that way?” Applejack asked in a critical tone.

Rainbow Dash shot her a somewhat nasty look, but at this point Rarity came between the two.

“I don’t believe she meant it that way at all,” she told Rainbow Dash diplomatically, “She simply meant that your reputation precedes you, everypony knows you’re the faster flier anywhere.”

“Oh, that’s cool then,” she said, and landed down in the seat below her.

______________________________________________________________________________

The train had been travelling for a few minutes now when Charlie moved over to sit by Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“That mural on the house we were in, was that you?”

“Well I got all my friends to help out in doing it, but it was my idea!” she declared proudly with a grin.

“Well, thank you so much for it,” Charlie said.

“Oh, it’s not a problem at all! It was just my way of saying sorry. . .”

“Sorry for what?” Graham asked, jumping into the conversation.

“For not throwing a party when you arrived! There’s always a party when new people come to Ponyville. . .except this time.”

For the first time since they’d met, Pinkie Pie briefly frowned.

“I’m sure there will be some celebration in Canterlot when they meet the princesses,” Fluttershy said in a hushed voice.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash replied, “As long as it doesn’t end up like when we were invited to the Gala!”

Everypony in the carriage laughed at that, and Graham figured he wouldn’t be able to follow the conversation, so he looked out at the scenery surrounding Ponyville.

It still looks like Wales to me, he thought.

______________________________________________________________________________

Some indeterminate amount of time later, a Pony came through wheeling a tray full of sweet pastries and cakes and other such goodies.

“Lunch!” he called.

No shit, Graham thought, but still thanked him as he picked up a piece of apple strudel.

After they were done eating, Fluttershy quietly asked Graham, “So, is your food like ours?”

“A lot of it is,” Graham answered, “Although,” he admitted, “Most humans eat meat.”

“Oh my,” she said with what managed to be a nearly silent gasp, “I’ve fed worms to my birds and other animals before, but it’s strange to think that creatures like you would. . .”

“You keep pets?” Charlie asked.

“A few,” she said meekly.

“I love animals,” Charlie told her, “When I was young I had a lovely dog named Muffin, a border collie. . .”

“Did somepony say they had a collie?” Applejack asked, interrupting Charlie’s interruption.

Charlie and Applejack spent a while conversing about dogs, which Graham again couldn’t follow.

He must be pretty used to this place by now, Graham reflected, if he can sit there talking about pets with a talking rancher Pony and not find anything odd about that.

A few minutes of carefully watching the countryside later, and Graham was asleep.

______________________________________________________________________________

The sun was starting to go down when Charlie woke Graham up with a tap on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, “You’ve been sleeping for hours.”

“So I have,” Graham replied.

“So I was thinking,” Charlie told him, “That we’re going to be meeting the rulers of this place, and we’re going to be representing humanity, in a way.”

“Thanks for summing up what we already know,” Graham said, miffed that he’d been woken up over this.

“All I’m saying is, try to be diplomatic,” Charlie requested.

“I suppose,” Graham replied, “But there’s one thing about these Ponies that seems off.”

“Oh?”

“For how nice they act and all, it seems like these Princesses are absolute rulers. Seems rather uncultured to not have some kind of democracy.”

“It seems to be working well enough for them,” Charlie reasoned.

Graham simply grunted.

“Here, look at that,” Charlie said, pointing out the window.

In the distance, a massive, steep mountain stood in front of the purple twilight sky. On the steepest bank of the mountain lay a city, and a grand castle of towering, elegant spires, illuminated by the last orange streaks of the setting sun.

“That’s Canterlot,” Charlie told him, “The ponies pointed it out whilst you slept. If they can produce something as magnificent as that, what does it tell you?”

Graham looked out at the city for a minute, then turned over to Charlie.

“I can’t think of a single building code that doesn’t violate,” he said, then fell back asleep.

Chapter 5

“Hey Graham, wake up!”

Graham yawned, and then opened his eyes to see Charlie now standing between the rows of seats. The train had stopped moving and the carriage was empty, save for the two humans.

“Why’d you let me sleep in one of these tiny chairs? My neck feels like shit,” he groaned in place of a greeting.

“Just stop complaining and come see this,” Charlie urged him with enthusiasm.

Graham shivered as he stepped out of the carriage, then informed Charlie of the cold.

“It’s because it’s early in the morning,” he replied evenly, “Also, we’re on a mountain.”

Charlie led Graham to the back of the train, and crossed to the other side of the track.

Graham turned and saw a waterfall cascading from the top of the mountain, spilling pure, crystal clear water across the rocks and ridges, landing in a small lake next to the railroad track. The lake diverted into numerous small rivers and creeks, the largest of which flowed in front of the city, creating a natural moat. The river was topped by a wooden drawbridge, which lay flat across the water, inviting entrance to a city comprised of majestic, royal buildings with golden spires.

“This,” Charlie announced grandly, “Is Canterlot, capital of Equestria and cultural centre of the world we’re currently in.”

“It’s . . . well, it’s stunning,” Graham replied, nearly at a loss for words.

“Are you feeling alright?” Charlie asked with what seems to be genuine concern.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” came the puzzled response.

“You just complimented something. That’s not like you at all,” Charlie said, now smiling.

“Oh you can just sod off,” Graham told him, before looking out to the moat and seeing the six ponies standing there. Twilight raised a hoof to them and Graham raised an arm in response.

“No point in keeping them waiting, I suppose,” Graham said, before heading to the drawbridge.

______________________________________________________________________________

As they were walking through the entrance to the city, the group of six ponies and two humans was approached by three large stallions. The ones on each side wore what appeared to be the Pony equivalent of Lorica Segmentata, coloured gold, with a matching Corinthian helmet, topped off with crests filled with grey fur. The pony in the centre, a white Unicorn, instead wearing purple armour and a dark blue crest, galloped towards the group.

“Twily!” he yelled, taking the purple unicorn under his foreleg and giving her mane an affectionate nuzzle with his face.

“Good to see you too,” she said with a smile, then turned towards the group, “Graham, Charlie, this is Shining Armour, captain of the guard and my BBBFF.”

Graham raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“It means ‘Big Brother Best Friend Forever’,” Twilight and Shining Armour explained simultaneously.

“My men and I,” Shining Armour said, gesturing to the two ponies behind him with his head, “Are going to be taking you to the Royal Palace. Ready to go?”

“Those men have really stern expressions,” Charlie said, slightly nervously.

“That just means they’re good guards,” he said chirpily, “Two of Canterlot’s best, but it does mean they never really smile.”

“Like Beefeaters?” Charlie asked, more to Graham than Shining Armour, “Does that mean I have be like the characters in American films and try and make one of them laugh?”

“Oh don’t do that,” Graham said, “They don’t even post guards at Buckingham Palace gates because of all the bloody tourists trying to get a reaction from them.”

______________________________________________________________________________

The sight of the humans, coupled with an escort from the Captain of the Royal Guard, caused quite a stir among the ponies of Canterlot. Awed expressions and stunned silence followed Graham throughout the town, occasionally broken up by a pony yelling.

“Unbelievable,” one said to himself.

“How exotic,” Graham heard one remark in the tones of received pronunciation.

“Their clothes,” one mare said, “I simply must model my new line on them,” which prompted a frustrated sigh from Rarity.

At one point, Graham was temporarily blinded by the flash of a camera. “Wunderbar!”, he had heard a pony yell, but the photographer had left by the time he regained his vision.

As they walked through the elegant city, Graham turned to Charlie and asked, “What do you notice?”

“Well,” Charlie said, “The design and the whole feel of the place reminds me of Paris a bit. Also, there seems to be far more Unicorns here than Ponyville.”

“Very good,” Twilight said, jumping into the chat, “Ponyville is a recent settlement, populated by the more hardy Earth Ponies. Canterlot, being the site of the Royalty and the oldest city in Equestria, has a larger Unicorn population than most other cities, save maybe Manehattan,” she lectured.

“Manehattan? Really?” Graham asked.

“You’ve heard of Manehattan?” Twilight asked in return.

“I haven’t, but there seem to be lots of Pony cities with names very similar to human ones, like Manechester,” Graham explained.

“That is odd,” Twilight said, then stopped talking, presumably dwelling on what Graham had said.

“We’re here!” Shining Armour called after a few minutes.

The group stood in front of a massive set of marble steps that lead into an enormous castle, from which the tallest of the city’s towers stood, spires flying a banner of purple, a colour which seemed to transcend worlds and still signify royalty. The tallest tower held a lookout point, which Graham wagered would be high enough to see his way back to Ponyville, if not further. Two levels below the highest point, a large telescope protruded from a balcony, the perfect location for stargazing. At this point, Graham’s meditations on the inside of the Palace towers were interrupted by Charlie tapping him on the shoulder.

“What is it?” Graham asked.

“Just a heads up,” Charlie said, “We’re going to be meeting royalty, and we’re the only humans they’ve ever met, so, you know, be respectful and all that. Also, don’t get flustered and rant or something. We’ve got to be diplomats, you know?”

“I’m a diplomat now,” Graham said flatly.

“Well, just don’t make it a repeat of that saloon incident,” Charlie said, before following the guards upstairs.

______________________________________________________________________________

They stood in a grand entrance hall, on fine red carpet embroidered with golden stitching. The walls were decorated with pane glass windows, depicting fantastical scenes, possibly from the folklore of the ponies. Or maybe even from the real history, anything seemed possible here to Graham. At the end of the hall, another marble staircase, which then split into two paths, one left, one right. At the convergence of the stairs stood two large ponies.

Graham followed the guards, who went to the top of the staircase, and bowed their heads.

“Thank you,” said one of the ponies in a smooth, but authoritative tone. She possessed the horn of a unicorn, and the wings of a pegasus. Her fur was of a pure white, and her tri-coloured mane constantly billowed around her. To her left, a slightly smaller, but still imposing pony stood. Her colours were that of the night, complemented by a necklace she wore, bearing the image of a crescent moon.

“I am Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria, bringer of the sun, and keeper of the day,” she declared grandly.

Charlie stood stiff, apparently too shocked to speak at this moment.

“I am Graham Daniels,” he began with a crooked grin, impersonating her regal tones, “Of the United Kingdom, and I am a purveyor of hardware and other DIY supplies.”

To Graham’s surprise, the Princess laughed, “I prefer not being so formal,” she said, “But you never know with new people, so it’s best to play it safe.”

She motioned to the dark blue pony, also with wings and horn, to speak. She quickly stepped

forward.

“We welcome you, honourable guests, to our domain! We thank thee for thine introduction, and we shall deliver ours! Thou speak to Princess Luna, sentinel of the moon, and guardian of dreams! And thou!” she bellowed; now facing Charlie, “Introduce thyself!”

“Hi, I’m Charlie,” he said timidly, “I teach primary school,” and then, to Graham’s dismay, he began to nervously ramble. “Of course, it makes sense if you haven’t heard of primary school as you’re all very different and even though you speak English it’s American English so I suppose I should say ‘elementary school’ but that still might not help. . .” at this point he seemed to realise he was babbling, stopped, and bowed his head.

“You needn’t be so nervous,” Celestia said reassuringly, “My sister just enjoys taking every opportunity she can to use the Royal Canterlot Voice.”

“It’s true,” Luna said with a sheepish grin.

“Back to matters then,” Celestia said, more primly than earlier, “I’ve watched this land for aeons, but never seen creatures such as you two. Do you know how you arrived, or where your land is?”

Charlie still seemed too stunned to properly converse, so Graham explained.

“The place we’re from, simply put, is another world from this one. Another universe, really. Physics is different, reality itself is different. I have no idea what caused us to be sent here, but it certainly wasn’t intentional. I mean, where we’re from, we have ponies, but they’re not like you are. They’re animals, they can’t speak.”

Celestia paused, thinking it over, then asked, “You said you were from the United Kingdom?”

“Yes,” Graham answered.

“It’s United, so it is also based on harmony and friendship as this land is?”

“Not really,” came the response from Charlie, who started to babble, “The Welsh hate us, the Cornish don’t really like us, Scotland will probably be independent this time next year, and then there’s Northern Ireland, which is just. . .”

“Charlie,” Graham interrupted.

“Yes?” he asked.

“You’re ranting. Shut up,” he calmly instructed.

To his relief, Charlie did indeed shut up at that point, and the Princesses briefly excused themselves to converse. Graham stood there, gazing idly at the plate glass windows, noting the Princesses appearing on one, vanquishing some mythical creature that resembled a dragon meshed with various types of equine.

Moments later, the two returned, and rendered their decision.

“Twilight Sparkle did an extensive study of you two in Ponyville, yes?” inquired Celestia.

“That she did,” Graham responded with a shudder.

“She’s an excellent student,” Celestia said proudly, “I trust she will have useful knowledge of your people. Have her come visit me, and I’ll learn from her. You two can stay in the guest apartment. Shining Armour can show you the way.”

“Thanks,” Graham said.

“Oh, one more thing,” Celestia told, “There will be a banquet tonight, to welcome the two of you. You’ll be meeting leaders from across the world, and they shall know of you. I’ll send someone to inform you when it happens. Until then, enjoy Canterlot!”

Graham and Charlie were taken out of the room by two guards, considerably friendlier than the two stoics who accompanied Shining Armour, and were up a flight of circular steps to an elegantly furnished room, approximately at the midway point up the tower.

“Enjoy it,” one said warmly, “This is the kind of room we give to ambassadors,” then closed the mahogany door.

Graham took a seat on the end of the bed and faced Charlie.

“So,” he said with a smug grin, “What was that you told me earlier? Don’t get flustered and rant?”

______________________________________________________________________________

The next few hours passed slowly, with nothing of consequence happening until late in the afternoon, when Princess Luna entered the apartment.

“Come, I have something to show you,” she instructed, then briskly left, prompting the two to follow.

Together they climbed the steps of the tower, eventually reaching the top, and stood upon a balcony from which they could see all of Canterlot lain out below them.

“This is not the tallest tower in the city,” Luna told them, “From the highest point, you can see the whole land spread out before you. This spot, however, will do fine with what you’re about to see.”

She pointed their attention to the right, to the entrance of the palace. From here they saw Princess Celestia leave the hall, and stand atop the steps. Flapping her wings, she raised herself a few metres into the air, then promptly flew straight up, far too fast for Graham to follow.

“There,” Luna pointed with her hoof, indicating to the heavens above. Celestia now flew through the light cerulean sky, taking on the appearance of a pure white mass, a comet, or a meteor, soaring above, making elegant rolls and turns, before turning towards the sun.

She flew off in the direction of the star, so that Graham had could no longer see her, but turned his focus towards the ground. Across the entire city of Canterlot, a shadow was visible, from a being obstructing the sun. A shadow, a shape the size of a city; Celestia’s silhouette.

At this point, a magnificent burst of white energy spread across the sky, and the sun began to slowly descend.

“She doesn’t normally put on such a show,” Luna said with a smile, “But I felt it appropriate considering our guests. That wasn’t a showy title, she really is in charge of the sun.”

“And you?” Graham asked.

“Soon, it shall be my rotation, and I will raise the moon. No need for more theatrics though,” she answered, still smiling.

“It was. . .incredible,” Charlie said, and Graham nodded in agreement.

“I thank you,” she said politely, and trotted down the steps.

______________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, and the two had just been seated at the end of a vast table that held at least one hundred seats. They were told they were seated in terms of importance, the far right being most, and the far left being least. They sat to the left of the two Equestrian Princesses, and opposite ambassadors from other nations. Across from Graham was Balozi Pundamilia, ambassador of Zebrabwe, and to his left, opposite Charlie, was the ambassador from the Gryphon’s Republic of Talonia, whose name Graham found impossible to pronounce, and consequently remember. One seat over was Cadence, of the Crystal Empire, followed by various nobility and other such important ponies of the country.

The food had not yet been served, but Graham noticed a knife and fork set out on each side of his plate.

“Why do you have these?” he asked, gesturing towards it.

“They’re decorations,” Celestia explained, “They’re only set out on the most formal occasions, in accordance with old ponylore.”

“We use them all the time where we’re from,” Charlie said with a puzzled expression.

“From what Twilight told me, you humans are from a very strange land, as if the Everfree Forest was the standard.”

“The Everfree Forest?” asked the Gryphon, “At least use examples all of us can understand.”

“Apologies, ambassador,” Celestia said, whilst Luna scowled at the Gryphon, “In the Everfree forest, clouds move on their own, the plants grow freely, and the animals live without the help of more intelligent beings.”

“An odd place indeed,” concurred Balozi.

At this point, the first course was unveiled, which turned out to be a sort of pasta with an assortment of vegetables and even spices added to the mix. The Gryphon ate by picking up talonfulls of pasta or vegetable and scoffing them down, the Zebra by simply diving head first into the bowl, and the Unicorns, of course, by magic.

Graham shrugged, and picked up a fork, twirling it in the bowl and getting a swirl of spaghetti and vegetables, which the Unicorns look at as if it were magic, as opposed to their method of eating with. . . well, magic.

At first the focus of the conversation had been the human world, which Graham and Charlie, who was now more composed than earlier, answered with mild disinterest, having grown accustomed to answering the same set of questions to numerous people at this point.

Eventually, the conversation at this end switched to the Ponies and the Gryphon talking about economics, which left Graham and Charlie with little to discuss to the group. During this conversation though, the Zebra Ambassador motioned that he had an announcement to make.

“In thanking the Princesses for allowing me to be present at this grand feast,” he declared, “I have prepared something for the ambassadors and humans present here today. A drink from my people, called heqet. There is no drink with a taste similar to it, and is only made for the most special of circumstances in Zebrabwe, on account of it being a difficult drink to make, favoured originally by our ancient kings.”

The Zebra looked down the table and nodded, at which point a subservient, younger zebra appeared, carrying a tray of cups towards them.

Graham sniffed his cup when it was handed to him, and came to a remarkable discovery.

“Oh my god!” he whispered to Charlie with frantic glee, “This is beer!”

“Just go easy on it,” Charlie warned.

“Ooh, that’s stronger than what we have,” he said after taking a sip, then proceeded to drink the entire cup anyway.

______________________________________________________________________________

The next few minutes Graham remembered only hazily, but it was his interpretation that Charlie had made a snide remark that he was an unfit representative of humanity, or England. In a response that seemed perfectly acceptable to his now intoxicated mind, he stood up and made an announcement.

“Ponies and Zebras and Gryphons,” he slurred, “In honour of your kindness, and to show my respectability to my homeland,” he then stopped to look spitefully at Charlie, "I would like to sing you a song of my people.”

The equines seated at the hall looked visibly confused, and some coughed uncomfortably, but nobody directly challenged him, and so he began to sing.

And did those feet, in ancient time

Walk upon England’s mountains green:

And was the holy lamb of god

On England’s pleasant pastures seen?

He closed his eyes at this point, and began to sing more loudly.

And did the countenance divine,

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

And was Jerusalem Builded here,

Amidst these dark Satanic Mills?

As he sang, Graham felt a strange energy swirling around him, a feeling of movement or change wrapped around him, but he continued to sing, eyes still closed.

Bring me my bow of burning gold;

Bring me my arrows of desire:

Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold!

Bring me my chariot of fire!

He was returning! He felt it, that’s the change; he was going home!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,

Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:

‘Till we have built Jerusalem,

In England’s green & pleasant land!

Home! Peckham! London! Rain, Chavs and chip butty! He was thrilled, amazed.

Graham opened his eyes with a grin.

He was standing in the banquet hall of the Canterlot Palace, surrounded by very confused ponies, and one human, quietly shaking his head.

“What was that weird feeling then?” he asked himself, before passing out.

______________________________________________________________________________

When he awakened, he was outside, it was still night, and Charlie was sitting next to him.

“What happened?” he asked feebly.

“Ponies don’t seem to get drunk, at least not from alcohol, and you overdid it with extra-strong Zebra beer,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

“D’you think that Zebra spiked my drink?”

“No,” Charlie said, then laughed, “How are you feeling now, anyway?”

“Not too bad, I suppose. I’ve had worse hangovers.”

Charlie extended a hand to help lift him off his feet, “Come on,” he said, “Walk it off.”

“This actually is quite a nice place,” Graham reflected as they walked.

“Canterlot Gardens, best in the country, apparently,” Charlie informed him.

“I can believe that,” Graham replied, “So one thing, I can’t quite remember, what did I do exactly?”

Charlie grinned, “If you really want to know, you sang Jerusalem, then passed out.”

“Oh Christ, seriously?

Charlie nodded enthusiastically, but was nice enough to tell Graham he hadn’t made that bad an impression.

“They thanked you for sharing our culture,” he said, still smiling, “Then they just thought you’d taken ill. I had the guards bring you out here for fresh air.”

“Thanks mate,” Graham said, surprisingly without sarcasm.

They stopped talking briefly, and heard the strange but fascinating calls of the nocturnal animals found in and around the gardens. A slight breeze fell through the garden, causing delicate rustles that drew attention towards the trimmed hedges and grandiose trees.

“So,” Graham said eventually, “How did it feel to watch me make a complete arse of myself in front of a bunch of world leaders.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Charlie replied honestly, “But my first thought when you started to sing was, Did somebody say mattress to Mr. Lambert?”, which prompted a laugh from Graham.

Their stroll through the gardens was disrupted soon after, when a Royal Guard approached, and asked them to follow him. They were led into the now empty banquet hall, where three creatures waited for them: Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and a strange animal Graham recognised as the one from the plate glass window of the Palace hall.

“Well, look at you two,” he said, “Actual humans, haven’t seen your type in so long. Ahh, memories.”

Chapter 7

The day after the banquet, Charlie spent the morning writing furiously in the empty book he purchased in Ponyville, filling the remaining pages with what Discord had told him, and also with Twilight’s stories of the many adversities Equestria had faced these past couple years. Graham, conversely, spent the morning cursing the strength of Zebrabwean beer, and wishing he were dead.

It was around midday when they were once again called out of their room by Canterlot Guards, who had grown far friendlier as they became more accustomed to humans. This time, they were led into the entrance where they had first met the Princesses. The Princesses stood below the grand staircase, looking somewhat fatigued. Next to them was Discord, seemingly enjoying the Princess’s discomfort. Lastly, they saw the same six ponies who had taken them on the train to Canterlot.

“So, back to Earth then? How’s it going to go down?” Graham asked with keen enthusiasm.

“It’s probably going to work,” Discord answered, “We’re quite sure, maybe seventy percent sure. Okay, more like sixty percent. Okay, more like fifty. Actually, it’s probably more like--”

“Could I please get an answer from someone other than him?” Graham interrupted.

Luckily for Graham, Celestia answered his question in a far more reassuring way.

“We can’t see any reason why it wouldn’t work,” she told him, “We’ve certainly got enough magic, between two Alicorns, a Draconequus, and I believe Twilight has told you a bit about the Elements of Harmony.”

“About that,” Charlie then said, turning to Twilight and her friends, “When we first met you all, we thought you were just normal ponies--”

“Normal might be a bit much,” Graham muttered to himself.

Charlie continued regardless, “We had no idea you six had practically saved the world about four times. Just wanted to say that’s incredible.”

The six smiled at Charlie’s comments, and Rainbow Dash blushed to the point her face seemed as if it were naturally vermilion.

Celestia then called for silence, and actually managed to attain control of the room, even in the presence of Discord. Using her magic, she brought over a small suitcase, which opened to reveal a set of immaculately designed golden necklaces, and one tiara.

“Now then,” Celestia began, “It’s time for all of us to bid you farewell. I am aware Twilight wishes for you two to stay longer, so she can study you further, but I told her you’d prefer to leave. Is this as you want?”

Charlie nodded sheepishly, and Graham nodded fervently.

“We’ll begin in just a moment,” she then announced.

“Since we’re leaving,” Charlie said, “I just want to thank all of you for our time here. It sounds odd, I suppose, but it’s actually been a pretty great time, and I feel we have to thank you for your hospitality.”

“Then let us thank you,” Celestia replied, “For your kindness and tact while with us. It can’t have been easy, the shock of going to an entirely different world, and we understand that--”

“Can we just get on with the bloody thing?” Graham asked with the air of an impatient child.

“Maybe tact wasn’t the right word,” Celestia said with a wry smile, “But since you’ve asked, yes, we can get on with the bloody thing,” she laughed at that point, and Graham seemed almost proud to have added a new word to the Equestrian dialect.

With that, the Princesses and six ponies were ready to begin the spell. Much to Graham’s chagrin, Discord halted the process to do what he called his “ancient Zebra ritual,” in which he snapped his fingers to receive a spear, and began to walk about, raising and lowering the spear whilst chanting gibberish.

Political correctness was apparently prevalent in Equestria also, as the ponies took offence to his impression, which Rainbow Dash declared was “Seriously not cool,” followed by a far more stern telling off from Celestia. Only when Fluttershy very timidly and politely requested he stop, did he comply and allow the continuation of the spell.

Discord began by clicking his fingers once more, seemingly in time with a tune that flowed through his head, whilst the Princesses focused their energy, sparks beginning to emanate from their horns.

Discord’s clicking grew more rapid as the Princesses joined, as if the tune were quickening. Graham turned to Twilight Sparkle, whose eyes had glazed over to a radiant white light, and levitated slightly above the floor, followed by her five companions, all joining Discord’s grand symphony.

At that point, a massive floating sphere of pinkish electricity appeared above the hall, miniature bolts of lightning sparking from the edges. The sphere gently drifted downwards, until it encompassed all the occupants of the room.

“Voilá!” Discord yelled triumphantly with a flourish, before Graham was blinded by the light.

______________________________________________________________________________

When Graham regained his vision he was standing with Charlie, in front of Discord. They stood in yet another palace, this one with imposing wall made of pure, gleaming crystal. Even without the presence of two ponies at the other end of the room, it was fairly obvious they were not yet on Earth.

The two, who Graham recognised as Shining Armour and Princess Cadence, had yet to notice the uninvited trio, and continued their conversation.

“When’s the next time we visit Equestria?” Shining Armour asked.

“Not really sure. Why, don’t you like the Crystal Empire?” Cadence then replied.

“The Crystal Empire is great, but when we visit Canterlot, I’m Captain of the Guard again, even it’s it only for a day. It’s like--”

His conversation was cut off at this point by the realisation they had their own visitors from Canterlot.

Discord was questioned by Shining Armour and Cadence about his and the human’s appearance in the Empire, but Discord ignored their probing.

“This isn’t right at all,” he muttered, “Just give me a moment to try again.”

This time he clicked only once, and once again the pink sphere appeared above them.

“While it’s coming down I feel I should tell you,” Discord said, “I’m pretty sure this one will take you to Earth. You’d better hope it does, because I’m not coming for the trip this time, and I haven’t the magic to make another portal anyway.”

The sphere again enveloped Graham and Charlie, the latter person almost quivering with fear that they might not return.

“Well, bye,” Discord said dismissively as the two were plunged into the vortex.

______________________________________________________________________________

After somewhere between ten seconds and ten millennia of what Graham could only describe as pure and absolute nothingness, in which he felt no physical form nor any perception of his senses, he found himself standing in a large empty field, next to a small country road.

His first actions were to take in a massive breath, attempt to take one step, fall over, and vomit.

“Are you alright?” Charlie slurred, also disorientated; now lying flat on his face next to Graham.

“Twice I’ve spewed in two days, how about that?” he replied with a wan smile.

Around five minutes later, they’d adjusted to Earth, and Graham’s vomit had started to smell, so they got up and began to follow the road.

They walked, following the road, making idle conversation as they had when the first landed in Equestria, until the small road lead into a motorway, which the nearby sign helpfully informed them was the A55. They walked on the roadside, and stopped at the sight of a fairly large village, next to a roadside sign telling them where they were.

“Well . . . here we are,” Graham said, attempting to read the sign.

“Yeah,” Charlie concurred, “We are in . . . this place.”

They passed the sign, and continued to walking towards the centre of the village, past the sign reading “Welcome to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch!”

______________________________________________________________________________

Three days after the incident with the humans, and Celestia’s head was still reeling. Well, it wasn’t their fault, to be fair, they were courteous enough. But for Discord, one who’d apparently “reformed,” to have lost none of his thirst for mischief, and to drop such staggering news with such casual indifference, was enough to still give Celestia pause for thought as she stood in her palatial room. She was prevented from meditating upon it further when one of her guards came in. As he entered, he hung his head down, and bowed by placing his front hooves low on the ground. Such formality could only mean a foreign dignitary had come to visit, this time unannounced.

“Who is it then?” she asked with a smile.

“It is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, of the Crystal Empire,” he answered, with precise military tones.

“My sister?” Celestia asked, “Then what’s with all this pomp and genuflection? She’s her own Princess, but we’re still sisters.”

“Apologies, Princess,” the guard answered crisply.

“Save all this rigid strictness for when that Gryphon comes breathing down our necks again,” Celestia said with a conspiratorial wink.

The guard nodded, stifling a small laugh, and left the room as Cadence entered.

“Celestia,” she said, “There’s something I need to tell you, urgently.”

“Now Cadence,” Celestia said, smoothly and calmly, “If this is about on the wedding night, when I walked into your guest room, you’ve nothing to worry about--”

“Celestia,” Cadence quietly interjected.

“I understand that ponies these days go at it differently than when I was young enough to still care about being with Stallions, and--”

“Celestia,” she repeated, slightly louder.

“I mean, don’t tell Twilight, but with Shining Armour, I can see the appeal in doing something like that with--”

“Celestia!” this time she yelled, stopping the Sun-Princess mid-monologue.

“Well,” Celestia said, just as calmly, “What do you want to talk about then?”

“Discord,” Cadence answered, muttering as if it were a profanity.

“I see,” said Celestia, before admitting, “he’s certainly not in my good books at present.”

“Nor mine, that’s for sure,” Cadence answered, “If I might explain?”

Celestia nodded politely, and so Cadence began to tell her story.

“You see, three days ago, when trying to get those humans back to their home, Discord ended up in the Crystal Empire. My bedroom, specifically. I believe he told you about this?” she waited for Celestia to affirm this, then continued, “What he failed to mention though, and I don’t know if this is of his doing intentionally or an accident, but King Sombra’s horn disappeared at the same time as he sent those two humans back. The horn was kept under tight security in the palace, and I can’t think of any other way it would have gone. And--” Cadence paused at that moment, and her lip began to quiver slightly, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” Celestia reassured her, as the young Empire’s ruler looked on the verge of tears, “I know what we can do.”

“Which is?” she asked, slightly more assured.

“We talk to Discord, and we hope everything turns out well for the humans.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Lucas Evergreen stepped out the back door of his house, and looked out at the night. It was quiet, as the nights always were on Wicken Fen. If he really focused and listened, he could occasionally make out the call of some kind of nocturnal bird, but no more life than that could he detect on the lonely Cambridgeshire marsh. He wanted nothing more than to go back inside, sit with the dog, and warm up with a cup of tea. He felt slightly warmer just thinking about it.

Unfortunately, his wife had insisted she saw some form of strange red light coming from deeper in the fen, so Lucas traipsed through the chilly night air, without even a torch to guide his way, freezing his arse off and getting his trousers wet.

Why did I marry her again?

When he was young, he would have jumped at the chance to go explore around at night, searching for a trace of one of the many oddities of folklore East Anglia seemed to have, the Fairies, the Will o’ the Wisp, and of course the famous Black Shuck. He spend hours looking out the window, letting his imagination turn every shadow in the swamp into something of wonder.

Christ, I was an idiot as a child.

After about ten minutes, he managed to notice a light coming from somewhere close to him. He first thought he’d turned himself around and stood near the house again, but this light was red as opposed to the yellow-white glow civilisation seemed to always offer in the darkness.

The red light looked as if it were no larger than a match flame, but the way it bobbed and trickled and bounced around the mud and grass with such fluidity made it somehow compelling. Lucas almost broke into a run to catch up to it, and as he stood about a metre from meeting the light, he felt his balance shift, and found himself lying in the marsh, his front side completely soaked.

He felt more annoyed than hurt, until he felt a strange tingling on the back of his neck. He clasped his hand to it and felt the silky but disturbing sensation of blood running over his skin. He ran his arm across the ground around him to find what had cut him so roughly, and found he was holding a small curved piece of ivory with a sharpened tip. The blood made contact with the ivory and magnificent red embers began to leap from the piece.

Lucas Evergreen was too stunned to speak when the ivory began to emit red bolts of lightning that engulfed him, before finally extinguishing his life. As the warm bloody began to soak the horn, it began to grown, slowly building up to shape until Lucas Evergreen’s body was no more, and King Sombra stood upright, the black of night making only his eyes, red wisps surrounded by an unearthly glow of green, visible.

“A new realm,” he said deeply, punctuating his words with predatory growls,

“My new domain.”

Chapter 8

Graham and Charlie opted to wait one night at a hotel in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, based on the rationality that they should wait, and just adjust to being back on Earth. Charlie had also said that Llanfair PG was small enough that they wouldn’t feel overwhelmed jumping back into to reality, which Graham somewhat agreed with, stating, “This place is so small, I might as well be stuck with those bloody ponies again!”

Their time in Equestria had taken up only day, them having been sent over in the early hours of Friday, and being plonked down in Wales near to noon on Saturday. It was evening now, and Charlie was standing in the corner of the room on the phone, talking to Andrea, or at least that’s what Graham thought his lady friend was called. Graham himself was sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, watching the telly.

“Can you believe this?” Graham asked as Charlie walked in, gesturing to the box.

“Something wrong?” Charlie answered evenly.

“Look at this,” Graham said, happy to have found something to complain about, “The news was just talking about that guy who’s disappeared from that farm in Cambridgeshire, and this programme’s talking about a monster running around there eating people. It’s tasteless, that’s what it is.”

“D’you think we made the news when we disappeared?” Charlie wondered aloud, trying to steer the conversation away from one of Graham’s rants.

“It’s doubtful,” he replied, “We weren’t gone for that long, and the case on the news is bizarre. This guy just leaves his house, and not five minutes later, his wife goes to look, and he’s gone. They follow some footsteps into the swamp and they just. . . stop.”

“Maybe he’s gone over to Equestria too,” Charlie suggested, half-jokingly.

Graham grunted, as he always did when left with nothing to say, and his attention drifted back to the TV screen. It was one of those shows about supernatural beings and creatures, written by people who’d never seen enough of a Scooby-Doo episode to realise the scary monster is actually just a scary sex-offender wearing a costume.

“Described as a large dog, known for its sinister red eyes, the Black Shuck is a cryptid that lives within the countryside of East Anglia. The locals we’ve spoken to in rural Suffolk and on the fens of Cambridgeshire have told us the Black Shuck is considered a portent of terrible things to come. The appearance of the Black Shuck has been documented since at least the 1500s, leading us to believe that the Shuck being immortal is the only logical conclusion.”

“An immortal swamp dog is the only logical conclusion?” Graham asked, as if the telly would answer his question. Instead the programme carried on, now interviewing one man who claimed to have a photo of the creature.

“I’ve seen it, twenty years back, took the photo m’self I did,” a very stolid looking farmer with a rough grey beard declared, “Look here.”

The screen turned to a photo, showing a dark, blurry image of a forest at night. After a few seconds, the camera zoomed into the lower-left part of the photo, and cast a red circle around a shadow, virtually identical to every other part of the photo.

“I am in shock,” Graham announced disinterestedly.

“Although the Black Shuck has previously been known as a dog,” the host said woodenly, keeping with the standard of quality the show had set so far, “After a rise in people sighting the Shuck as recently as this week, many have now described the Shuck as having an equine appearance.”

Graham and Charlie’s eyes shot up at the mention of the word “equine”, just in time to see an artist’s rendering of the new Black Shuck. Graham and Charlie looked upon King Sombra, tyrant of the Crystal Empire, a vanquished being of pony legend, as told to them by Twilight Sparkle.

And he had followed the two back to Earth.

______________________________________________________________________________

Celestia and Cadence strode into the room at Canterlot palace, which at this point seemed to be evenly divided between being a banquet hall and an interrogation chamber.

“Hello!” Discord greeted the two chirpily, unflapped by their stern demeanours.

“Listen to me, Discord--” Celestia began, but was interrupted by the Draconequus.

“Cadence! What a pleasure!” he exclaimed, “How are you feeling? All recovered from your honeymoon night with Shining Armour?”

Cadence shrunk back behind Celestia.

“Why does everyone bring that up?” she asked weakly.

“Discord!” Celestia yelled, hoping to get some form of reaction from him, “We thought you were reformed!”

Silence swept over the empty dining hall like a winter gale.

“Fine,” said Discord quietly, “Why’d you bring me here?”

“When you sent the humans back home,” Celestia spoke flatly, not as accusation, but as fact, “You ended up in the Crystal Empire. Now, King Sombra’s horn is missing.”

“That’s false!” Discord yelled, beginning to mount his defensive, “You’ve no proof I was at the Crystal--oh wait,” he stopped and looked at Cadence, “You do.”

At that point, Celestia’s facial expression was one that Discord could describe as one that screamed “I will turn you back into a statue”, so he decided it best to appeal to the princess with less vexation and anger in her eyes.

“You’ve got to believe me,” Discord said, now dead serious and looking at Cadence, “My appearing in the Crystal Palace and the horn disappearing weren’t my fault! I didn’t mean to!”

“He might be telling the truth,” Cadence suggested.

“Do you swear?” asked Celestia, still with that ‘statuesque’ look in her eyes.

“Pinkie Pie swear?” Cadence asked, after Discord nodded to the previous question.

“I don’t even know what that is, but all right,” Discord replied hesitantly.

After the rigmarole of explaining to Discord the concept of a Pinkie Pie swear, Discord promised to cross his heart, hope to fly, and even to stick a cupcake in his eye. Discord, slightly less afraid of “statuetisation”, explained to the princesses that it would be possible for Celestia and the Element of Harmony holders to briefly go to the human world, and make sure Sombra wasn’t causing problems there. When his explanation was finished, and he asked Celestia if he was to be encased in marble once again, Celestia’s expression softened for the first time in the interview.

“Look,” Celestia said, “Personally, I’m not quite sure you’ve fully reformed. But Fluttershy swore by you, and you’ve done nothing to the calibre of the old you. But you’re certainly not cut out for Canterlot life. I’ll arrange a home in the country for you.”

Celestia left with Cadence before Discord could respond, happy that the interrogation technique of “good princess, bad princess” had proven effective.

______________________________________________________________________________

Graham sat in the passenger seat of a hired 1990s Toyota, looking out the window. Charlie was in the seat next to him, driving down the M20. The sun was setting now; they’d been driving since morning. The original plan had been to stop for lunch in Swindon, but upon seeing what Swindon was like, they decided to drive through the city, slightly faster than any other they’d passed.

The shock of seeing Sombra was fresh in Graham’s mind, and had left Charlie quite disturbed too.

“We’re going to find him,” Charlie had declared, right after seeing the Crystal Empire’s greatest nightmare on the telly.

“What? How?” Graham had asked.

“You see,” Charlie had explained clearly, “We’re going to hire a car. We’re going to drive to Dover, I’m going to talk to Annette, and then we go north and find Sombra.”

“North?” Graham had asked.

“North.” Charlie had answered, annoyingly calm.

“East Anglia is quite a big place.”

So, despite their lack of a proper plan, the two had crossed the breadth of Great Britain, now no more than five minutes away from Dover. The further they’d gone into England, the more Graham noticed a certain sort of darkness that seemed to be present. He hoped it was just his mind playing tricks, a result of his nervousness about Sombra. Unfortunately, Charlie’s opinion on the matter seemed to mirror his.

“Something’s wrong,” Charlie said, brow furrowed, as the car drove along the Dover waterfront.

“What is?” Graham asked.

“It’s a clear night; we should be able to see the lights from Calais.”

Graham peered out the window, across the straight, and he too found only darkness in response.

Not long after, they pulled into the driveway of a small house, and Graham followed as Charlie knocked on the door. A woman about Charlie’s age opened the door, and embraced him warmly.

“I was so worried,” she said by way of greeting, “Wait, who’s this?”

“Annette, this is Graham, he’s a friend,” Charlie said.

Graham waved awkwardly, and followed Charlie as he entered the house.

“Come look at this,” Annette instructed, voice trembling.

In the corner of the main room was a TV, set to the BBC, with breaking news.

The presenter looked noticeably worried, his normally stiff upper lip trembling as he read the story.

“--totally unprecedented isolation. For those who have just tuned in, Great Britain has lost all contact with the outside world. Several attempts have been made to restore communications with mainland Europe and the United States. One attempt has also been made to restore communications with Belfast. There have been reports of failed attempts for boats to cross the channel, but at present, it is reported we cannot even see Ireland or France. All flights have been grounded for risk of crashes, and the Prime Minister will be giving a speech at the top of the hour. Right now, the best advice for all Britons is to stay calm, and stay indoors.”

Graham stared at the telly in disbelief. This was starting to sound exactly like Sombra’s curse on the Crystal Empire, only now, it was Britain’s turn.

“Misery and suffering to all of us,” Charlie said to himself, evidently thinking along the same lines as Graham. He then turned to Graham and asked, “What do we do?”

“We could trying going to Glasgow; they probably won’t even tell the difference.”

“Look,” Charlie said, more to himself than anyone, “We’ll go to Cambridgeshire, like where that programme said he was seen, and just figure it out from there.”

He then went over to Annette, and explained to her they needed to go north, and they knew what was going on. “I’ll explain everything on the drive,” he said. Charlie then went into another room, where Graham heard him exclaim, “Ah-hah!”

Thinking he’d found how to stop Sombra, Graham rushed in after him, only to find Charlie ecstatically ripping through the packaging on a Sainsbury’s microwaveable Cornish pasty.

Chapter 9

The six from Ponyville once more stood within the walls of Canterlot palace, requested via a hastily scribbled note from their princess. They were in a small waiting area, the far end of which had a large wooden door, the room on the other side being where Celestia and Luna were.

“What is taking them so long?” Twilight asked, tapping her left foreleg impatiently. She had asked the same question four times in the past quarter hour, each time with growing nervousness, and each time, one of the other five ponies in the room would attempt to reassure their somewhat neurotic friend.

“Oh darling,” Rarity said, recognising it was now her turn to try and assuage her worries, “You know how the princesses do so love to have their long discourses.”

“I know,” replied Twilight, “But this time there’s something more. Something big is happening, and the princesses know it.”

Attention now turned towards Applejack, for she was the only one who’d yet to give out some sage advice (or, in Pinkie Pie’s case, an amazingly well coordinated improvised dance routine).

“Look sugarcube, I ain’t gon’ lie to ya,” she began, “But I know what y’all mean. The princesses are acting all weird, and I ain’t seen Celestia this worried since, well, ever.”

“I’d say she was this worried about Sombra!” Pinkie Pie chirpily chimed in, not realising how much truth her statement held.

On the other side of that grand, imposing door, the princesses were locked in their own discussion.

“We can do it,” Celestia affirmed, “We’ve learnt how from Discord.”

“The question,” Luna retorted, “Is not can we do it, it’s should we do it?”

“Sombra’s horn is there!”

“So?”

“We both know the horn’s power, now imagine how it would be on a world that possesses no magic of its own,” Celestia explained.

Luna paused for a moment, considering it, then continued the debate.

“But,” she spluttered, “We’ve so much to do here! What of Starswirl’s book? What of Twilight’s . . . ascension?”

“It’ll have to wait, or maybe it won’t,” Celestia enigmatically replied, then continued once Luna sent her a curious look, “Starswirl often postulated the idea of more than one world, parallel realms, he called it. It might not be what he wrote of in this book, but if Twilight and her friends managed to bring the magic of friendship to another world, especially one that doesn’t have magic to begin with, that’d really be something.”

The door swung open, and Celestia stood in front of Twilight Sparkle and her friends.

“I need to talk with all of you.”

______________________________________________________________________________

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Graham asked with considerable temper, “All of Britain has been cursed by an evil unicorn and you’re faffing about with Cornish pasties?” In a remarkable feat, that shocked both Graham and Charlie, his voice managed to turn downright shrill on the last two words of that sentence.

“I was going to give you one too,” Charlie answered ashamedly.

“Don’t you think maybe we’ve slightly bigger problems at present?” Graham asked rhetorically.

“You don’t understand!” yelled Charlie. The microwave beeped, and Charlie snatched a second pasty out of it, now holding one in each hand.

“The Cornish pasty,” Charlie babbled, waving one of the West Country pastries in front of Graham’s face, “Represents Britain. It is our pride, our culture, heritage, and above all, our spirit! The Cornish pasty embodies our fight! The Pasty shan’t submit, and neither shall we!” to emphasise his point, he took a good bite out of one of the pasties.

“When we first met, weren’t you the normal one?” Graham asked, thinking upon whether or not Charlie needed a proper smack in the face before they continue.

“I . . . but, oh you’re right,” Charlie said, “We’ve got to stay focused, come on!”

Charlie handed Graham the uneaten pasty, got Annette, the three of them piled into the rented Toyota, and they drove north, hoping to find Sombra.

As they drove, Charlie began to tell his girlfriend the story of his past few days.

______________________________________________________________________________

Twilight had been informed, Luna had been convinced, the Elements had been gathered, and Discord had been withdrawn from Canterlot. She was almost prepared for her incursion into the human world, if only to liberate them from Sombra. Only one matter remained to be seen to before she could leave.

Princess Cadence seemed nervous, standing in this room, as if she had grown unaccustomed to her foalhood home.

Celestia came up to her.

“My sister, are you alright?” she asked compassionately.

Cadence simply stood there.

“Are you worried about the Crystal Empire?” Celestia asked.

“No,” the younger sister replied with a weak smile, “The people love Shining Armour, he’ll have no problems.”

“And the people here love you,” Celestia finished, “You’ll have no problems running in my stead whilst I’m gone.”

“My worries aren’t about what will happen on this world,” Cadence spoke quietly.

Celestia reassuringly set her hoof onto Cadence, and told her, “Oh Cadence, you’ve nothing to worry about. Luna and I will be gone for barely two days. It won’t be difficult to find Sombra, he’s an extremely powerful mage in a world without magic.”

“Telling me that doesn’t really help,” she meekly commented, “What if you and Luna are defeated? I’ll be the last Alicorn.” A look of horror dawned on her face.

“We won’t be defeated, and there might be more than three Alicorns soon.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Celestia said with a smile, “Just remember this: While only eight ponies will make the journey, all of Equestria is with us in spirit.”

Cadence smiled, and embraced her sister warmly before she trotted out the door, closing it with a sense of unmistakable finality.

Cadence sat there placidly for a few minutes, before a puzzling thought came over her.

“So, if Equestria’s with you in spirit, what happens to that spirit if you die? I don’t feel reassured at all,” she said to the empty room.

______________________________________________________________________________

Graham sat in the back seat of the Toyota, holding on to a Cornish pasty that had been encased in cling wrap. They’d left Dover about an hour and a half ago. For the first forty or so minutes, Charlie had, with the help of Graham, explained to Annette his experience with Equestria.

Annette had nodded and listened, occasionally asked a question, but it was evident to Graham that she wasn't even entertaining the idea that Charlie wasn't completely bonkers.

The M11 was completely empty, which unnerved Graham to no end. The emptiness of the motorway, combined with the silence of the other two in the car, only served to have Graham retreat into his thoughts.

He looked down, and saw the cling wrapped pasty. He was alone with the pasty. It was just him and the pasty. He stared at the pasty.

The pasty, thankfully, did not stare back.

What did Charlie see in the miserable little roll? To him, a Cornish pasty just looked like a pie someone had trodden on and squashed out of shape.

He looked out the window for a moment. The M11 still held not a single car other than theirs, but a sign informed them of their proximity to the village of Wendens Ambo.

He looked down again.

That pasty actually did look quite nice.

“I never thought saving the world would be this tedious,” Charlie joked awkwardly, hoping to break the silence.

“Don’t. Tempt. Fate,” Graham instructed clearly, punctuating each word.

He was just about to undo the cling wrap when a large black cloud appeared, blocking the motorway in front of them. Looking forward, Charlie could clearly see King Sombra’s face within the cloud, before a bolt of pure black lightning struck the bonnet of the car, sending it spinning out of control.

“What did I bloody tell you?” Graham yelled as Charlie struggled to regain control of the swerving automobile.

The car turned across the four lanes of the M11, making a semi-circular pattern. Charlie slammed his foot down on the accelerator, before making a U-turn, and speeding up yet again, barrelling towards Sombra’s crowd.

Annette shrieked, and Graham called Charlie an idiot, before accusing him of having an oedipal complex, although the language Graham used was much more colourful.

“It’s worth a shot,” was all Charlie said, before another bolt struck the car.

Next thing Graham remembered, he was sitting in the back seat of a Toyota that had crashed into a tree on the side of the M11.

Charlie and Annette were standing in the adjacent field, yelling at him to come on. He practically kicked open the door and bolted right past the two.

Unfortunately, about twenty metres from the car, Charlie slipped and landed face first into the muddy field. Annette ran over in an attempt to help him up, before turning around to find Sombra, now in his regular unicorn form, slowly trotting up to the two, his eyes filled with malice.

His horn began to emit black sparks, and he looked down at Charlie. Graham had to act fast.

He threw the Cornish pasty at Sombra. It landed perfectly, skewering itself on Sombra’s horn. Whatever sinister magic he had tried to muster was replaced by a gratifying explosion of minced beef and diced potatoes. Sombra was distracted, and so Charlie seized the opportunity to try and mount Sombra in what Graham assumed to be an attempted spear tackle.

Sombra’s horn was once again unrestrained, and so he tossed Charlie absent-mindedly to the side, like a young child playing with toy soldiers. Sombra slowly approached Charlie, who once again lay in the mud, and Graham couldn’t help but think they were back to square one, although their ammunition/pasty stocks had been depleted. It was immediately evident that all hope was lost, when a familiar voice was heard from near Sombra.

“Gotcha!”

Graham looked to find Princess Celestia, her lunar sister, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, and Fluttershy. The six ponies were once again outfitted with the Elements of Harmony, and wasted no time in getting to work.

Six magnificent rainbow patterned beams shot straight up, illuminating the drab grey clouds above, and all six streams converged with one another, before striking down from the heavens, aimed directly at King Sombra.

“With my last breath, let it be known, there is none I curse more than Spike!”

With that, the precision strike channelled itself through Sombra’s horn, this time disintegrating his entire self.

In a small field, just off of a motorway in north-western Essex, south of Wendens Ambo, the magic of friendship, and the Elements of Harmony manifested themselves on Earth for the first and only time.

“Thank you so unbelievably much,” Charlie said, practically kneeling at Celestia's hooves.

“Don’t thank me,” Celestia responded with a warm smile, “Luna and I are just here to deliver these six to a timely rescue. Who’s this?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Charlie asked, composure thus regained, “Annette, this is Celestia, Luna, Twilight, Rarity, Rainbow, Applejack, Fluttershy, and of course, Pinkie!”

Annette stood there numbly, and vacantly raised a hand in a half wave.

“I know it’s a shock, but don’t swear,” Graham instructed, “They’ll just think it’s your name.”

“It’s lucky you two left Ponyville when you did,” Pinkie said, “The very day after you arrived in Canterlot, a Manticore was spotted near town.”

Charlie smiled, “Thanks for keeping me up to speed,” he said happily.

“Well, this will be goodbye,” Celestia said, “Any more crossing and the border between us will be too weak. It’s a shame you can’t come back even once, you’ll miss Twilight’s coronation.”

“My what?” Twilight asked with shock.

“I’ll tell you on the way home,” Celestia replied.

After a few minutes of goodbyes, Charlie, Graham and Annette stood in the field. It was night now, but they could see the stars if they looked up.

The island was back.

They managed to push the car out onto the motorway, and drove back to Dover. The lights of Calais shone brighter than ever, and the town was full of Frenchman, eager to see what had happened to the vanished Britain. They pulled into Annette’s driveway, and Charlie said to Graham, “It’s been quite an odd few days, hasn’t it?”

Graham grunted in response.

“This might sound odd,” Charlie said, “But here’s my mobile number, if you ever want to get a pint or something. Actually, would you like to come in for some tea?”

“I’m alright,” Graham simply said.

He then pulled up his jacket, put the slip of paper in his pocket, and walked away.

______________________________________________________________________________

April 27th. The lost day. For almost twenty hours, the island of Great Britain vanished from the world, before reappearing at its usual spot in the North Sea no worse for wear. Nobody on Earth could come to an agreeable theory on what caused Britain to disappear, but disappear it did. The only popular theories were utter rubbish, ranging from a delayed Mayan apocalypse, a curse from the ghost of Princess Diana, and the ever popular act of God theory. The BNP laid the blame on immigration and whichever Middle-Eastern nation was in the news during the days before the event. In the days, weeks, and months following April 27th, a massive wave of media pertaining to that day came into existence. These included a multitude of papers trying to explain the event, hundreds of novels of speculative fiction about the lost day, usually involving the Illuminati or Freemasons.

There was even an episode of Emmerdale about the day.

Amidst the plethora of stories about the day, nobody noticed when one unheard of author from Dover published a mildly successful fantasy novel, written as if the author was recounting his own experiences relating to that day.

______________________________________________________________________________

Discord sat on the veranda of his new home, just outside of a sleepy village west of Baltimare, looking out at the idyllic rural scenery, alone with his thoughts. Those humans hadn’t been in Equestria for more than a fortnight, but the ponies wouldn’t stop talking about them. Add in that Luna and Celestia had gone to the human world, however briefly, and those humans be the talk of Equestria for years. The house they had stayed in achieved the curious honour of Ponyville’s first tourist trap, Appleloosans would tell stories about their unique encounter with a certain bipedal Zebra, and a fashion designer in Canterlot managed to make a fair amount of bits selling the only known photo of the two.

How excited these Ponies were, only now learning of other worlds. Discord found it rather cute, these little children were growing up. Whilst they grew, he was stuck in this house in the middle of nowhere. His knowledge of the humans could’ve brought him a lot of power, but his aloofness and impudence had caused Celestia to sever ties and have him booted out of Canterlot.

I’m really not good at political manoeuvres, he thought.

But even more had changed in the wake of the human visit, more than some new pony fad, even more than his exile from the capital. Discord was fed news from Canterlot, kept up to speed, probably so he didn’t go mad cooped up here. Well . . . wouldn’t go more mad.

If the news was correct, today would be the coronation day for the newest princess, the newly-minted Alicorn Twilight Sparkle. It was a grand, unprecedented day for Equestrian history.

Sitting here, on the veranda, as the sun massaged Discord’s scales and feathers and skin, it all seemed so inconsequential. He’d had a chaotic life, obviously, but for the first time, he felt content to just sit down and relax.

______________________________________________________________________________

One year and a few months after the incident with Sombra, and Graham stood in a small bookshop near his flat, browsing around. The owner, a peculiar Irishman who always wore a scruffy black coat, would often put out special boxes of books for extremely cheap prices. This time, Graham came to the end of a shelf, to find a large box, filled with various paperbacks. At the front of the box a piece of A4 paper was taped to it, with the message books about the lost day, £1 each, get ‘em cheap now while people are tired of it!

Graham had never had much of an interest in books about that particular day. To be surrounded by an ocean of ridiculous theories and know the only correct one irked him significantly. Still, he thought might as well look through; see what somebody else's theory might be. After a minute or two, a small white covered paperback instantly caught his attention by the title and author name.

How a cockney, eight ponies and I saved Britain, by Charlie Robinson.

Fascinated, Graham opened up the book, and found an author biography written on the inside cover.

Charlie Robinson was born and raised in Guernsey, where he developed an interest in writing at a young age. He studied at the University of Nottingham and currently lives in Dover with his wife, Annette, and their infant daughter, Celestia.

Graham dropped a one pound coin on the counter, where the shop owner was dozing happily, and sped out of the store to his flat.

That evening, he sat in his familiar chair, cursed how cold his flat was, made some tea, and began to read Charlie’s biography, disguised as fiction.

It was hardly Shakespeare, but it told their story with accurate detail. He hadn’t added any embellishments, but you didn’t really need to in order for the story to be fantastical. He couldn’t but feel a twinge of guilt, however, as he read the final passage.

Graham never did talk to me again. I wonder if he's still too rattled by the events to want to come to terms with them, or if he hadn't learnt from his time in Equestria. Sombra was defeated there through teamwork and friendship, and so too was he defeated on Earth. I hope he, who had the rare privilege of seeing Equestria, did not leave that realm without comprehending what the entirety of their reality embodied. Maybe he hasn't realised it yet, or maybe he's simply forgotten the lesson all of Equestrian civilisation sought to teach him.

Above all else

Friendship is Magic.

Before he thought of anything else, Graham had his mobile in his hand, and found Charlie’s number.

He rang.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Hey,” Graham said somewhat awkwardly, “It’s Graham.”

“Graham,” Charlie replied, warmly as if had been a few days, not months, “How’ve you been?”

“Alright, I suppose. I haven’t really done much.”

There was silence for a while, as though Charlie was unsure of what to say.

“Listen,” Graham said, “After all that with Sombra, you offered for us to get a pint sometime. I’d like to take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Charlie said evenly, “It’d be great to catch up!”

They arranged a meeting place; Graham set the phone down atop the paperback book, and put on the telly to watch some Doctor Who.

Maybe it was just him, but that cold London flat felt just a little bit warmer.

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 6

“Humans!” the creature yelled joyously, clapping together a paw and a talon, “Oh, what a delight this is, an absolute delight. It’s been so long since one of you lot have visited! How’s Equestria?”

“It’s strange,” Graham answered stolidly, looking the creature right in the red pupils of his discoloured, yellow eyes.

“Well of course you’d find it strange, this is a far cry from good ol’ planet Earth, that’s for sure,” the creature continued, “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit excited right now, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen a human. I was convinced you people had finally wiped yourselves out. But, you’ve come a long a way, and this visit is such a surprise. Reminds me of that song, If I knew that you were comin, I'd've baked a cake. Ooh, there’s an idea!”

He snapped his fingers, and a flash of white light materialised in Graham’s hands, and Charlie’s also. The light died down, to reveal the two were now holding slices of a quite delicious looking black forest cake. Graham picked off a bit with the spoon he now had, and tested to see if it tasted as delectable as it appeared. He tried a piece, and then spat out a spray of light orange liquid and odd coloured chunks of food.

“Oops,” the creature said, in a way that implied it was no accident at all, “I almost forgot to say, that stuff looks like cake, but it’s actually gazpacho soup.”

“On with it,” Celestia said curtly, the closest Graham had seen so far to her getting angry.

“Alright, alright,” Discord said with a mischievous smile, “They haven’t let me have any fun since I came to this city, you see? C’est tragique!” he declared dramatically, miming as if to faint.

“Look here,” Graham said, rather ticked off, “It’s not fun being stuck here with a bellend like you, so quit faffing about and tell how you know about humans.”

“Let me just clean up first,” he said, snapping his fingers once more, this time dispelling the soup that was disguised as cake.

“Story time,” Discord then announced, reaching his arm out to the right, returning it to view holding a red velvet arm chair he seemed to have pulled from the aether. He sat in the chair, clicked his fingers, and opened the pages of the hardbound book he now possessed.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Once upon a time, boys and girls, I used to control Equestria.”

“You did?” Charlie asked with shock.

“Erm, yes,” Discord answered, this time much more muted than before.

“It was the worst chapter in our history,” Luna said sternly, “He held back ponykind an entire millennium.”

“That I did,” Discord said, for once sombrely, “I wanted chaos, I ruined lives as a result, and I paid my price when the Princesses defeated me.”

He stopped and breathed a heavy sigh, leaving the room silent enough to hear the faint ticking of a clock mounted near the door.

“Right then,” Discord said suddenly, returning to his normal tone and ending his brief moment of sobriety, “So there I was, in control, this vast land laid out before me, all mine. Of course, it was different from what it is now. It was an absolute mess, utterly insane. I loved it.”

“We didn’t,” Luna bitterly countered.

“I lived above all the chaos,” Discord continued, as if uninterrupted, “Of course; I went down at every opportunity. Until one day, I tried something different. A new magic, a mix of my magic, spells of my indentured Unicorn friends, and even the incantation of the masters of the Zebra arts.”

He paused, as if reflecting upon the acts he had committed. He once again seemed on the verge of sinking back into regret, but then sprang back into his speech.

“And you know what I found?” he began, directing the question towards Charlie.

“Well. . .” Charlie began.

“Of course you do!” Discord answered for him, “I found Earth! I could never actually go there, mind, but if I focused all my power, with some extra assistance, I could pull a little something, a little someone up to me.”

“How many people did you take?” Graham asked, cutting into his story.

“Only three,” he replied nonchalantly, gesturing with the three fingers on his paw, “First was Amelia, lovely woman she was. A pilot, if I remember correctly.”

“Second,” he said, pointing to his second finger and putting it down, “Was Harold. I didn’t like him nearly as much. He was a very impatient, serious man. Insisted I call him Mister Prime Minister, of all things. I don’t know what made him so self important, he was half naked when I brought him over, and Amelia told me clothes made the man."

“Shit,” Charlie said quietly, the first swear Graham had heard him utter since their arrival.

“Last fellow was a bit odd, but I quite liked him. D.B. Cooper, even the name was odd.”

He paused again, seemingly to remember the three people he had acquainted himself with.

______________________________________________________________________________

“They were good people. I didn’t realise it then, but Amelia might have been the first friend I ever had. She was always interested in exploring, and to her, Equestria was just a strange new land she could chart. When Amelia finally passed, I got Harold over, Mr. Prime Minister Holt, then D.B. Cooper after him. They told me all they could about Earth, all your fantastic things: Aeroplanes, Radio, Television, The Beatles--”

“I guess it’s true what they say about Beatle mania being universal,” Graham said, nudging Charlie.

Charlie just stood there, mouth agape at the information the formerly ruling trickster imparted.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Graham said angrily, “Isn’t this the second time you’ve been too bloody shocked to speak? You seemed so calm when we first arrived here.”

“If we could get back to me for a bit,” Discord said, “I--oh! I’ve an idea!”

He snapped, yet again, this time the flash of white was in the dead centre of the room, and considerably larger. The light faded to reveal Twilight Sparkle, who continued talking with her eyes closed.

“--and that, Pinkie Pie, is how you calculate the size of the hole inside a doughnut. Starswirl the Bearded himself once wrote of the doughnut, saying--wait, what’s happening? Princess?”

“Quickly Twilight,” Discord said before Celestia could answer, “You’re on The Sixty Four Thousand Dollar Question,” he paused to wink at Graham and Charlie, who responded with blank looks, “The category is Equestrian History. Explain to these two how I stopped ruling.”

Twilight sighed, annoyed that she had been upheaved from the conversation with her friends, but answered,

“Celestia and Luna used the Elements of Harmony to defeat Discord, encasing him in a statue. The two then worked to restore civilisation to the Ponies who had lived in the anarchy and chaos of his rule, by founding the first city, Canterlot.”

“Oh that is an excellent answer, my dear Twilight Sparkle,” Discord said, “Almost exactly what any good history book would say. Unfortunately, it’s not entirely correct. Close, but no cigar,” he said, clicking a cigar into Twilight Sparkle’s mouth, who spat it out near instantaneously.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Have yourselves a look at this,” he announced, bringing up what seemed to be a floating video, depicting a group of extremely downtrodden ponies, walking through a patchwork of odd, unreal, downright impossible scenery.

“When I ruled,” Discord narrated, “A small band of ponies tried to escape, to live on the fringe of Equestria, where they would go unnoticed, and unmolested by me.”

The video now showed the group, in a normal patch of undeveloped grass. There were no signs of life anywhere, save for the plants. The video changed again, and the ponies were much thinner than before, and many seemed on the verge of collapsing.

“They did manage to slip my grasp, even my notice, for a while. But they had never lived off the land before. They didn’t know how, and were near death. Then, something changed.”

A massive burst of energy appeared in front of the ponies, as bright as the sun, before subsiding, to reveal a massive grey structure, the size of an entire village. It was wedged into the ground, the bottom of it monolithic and impenetrable, but had a flat top, upon which there were many metal structure. The object was a United States Navy Destroyer.

“That’s what it was,” Discord answered when Graham said just that, “The USS Eldridge, to be precise.”

“The Philadelphia Experiment,” Charlie said, awestruck.

“Correct again,” Discord answered, “You’re quite smart fellows, I must admit.”

“Hold on a moment,” Twilight said, interrupting Discord and surprising him enough for the video to disappear, “You wanted everyone to be under your chaos, why would you allow them to do this?”

Celestia smiled proudly at her student, but Discord instantly came back with an answer.

“I didn’t want my chaos!” he said emphatically, “I wanted chaos! Everything was mine, except for that!” he rose out of his chair, and continued to explain fervently, “That they weren’t under my rule was chaos in of itself, don’t you see?”

Neither Graham, nor Charlie, nor Luna, Celestia or Twilight knew how to respond, and so once again silence gripped the room.

Discord sat back down in his chair, visibly mellower, and continued to impart his knowledge of the ship’s crew and the settler ponies.

______________________________________________________________________________

“The crew on the Eldridge made contact with the ponies, and taught them how to live. Eventually, a town blossomed, named in honour of the ship’s home; Philadelphia. The name was later bastardised, just like every other old city in Equestria, save Canterlot.”

“So,” Twilight asked, “The legend of Fillydelphia’s founding is true? Every scholar in history dismissed it as a metaphor for the wealth that seafaring trade brings the city.”

“Oh no,” Discord said, “It’s all true, the only difference is in the myth, the ship is manned by friendly Manticores. Don’t ask me why, I haven’t any idea.”

Graham thought back to his time in Equestria. The food, the use of American English and idioms, the tradition of knives and forks, it all made a certain amount of ridiculously bonkers sense.

“Well,” Charlie said, “That explains Fillydelphia, but what about the other cities that are named by humans?”

“A wonderful follow-up question,” Discord replied, beaming, “You see, not long before Celestia and Luna founded Canterlot, the ship disappeared, I imagine it returned to Earth somehow. But, the Ponies wanted to immortalise the humans for their help. The ten most senior officers made a list of their home cities, and gave it to the Ponies, who were about to send their first expedition into unknown land. They asked the cities be named after theirs.”

Now Twilight interrupted again, but directed her line of question this time to Celestia.

“Did you know that Fillydelphia predates Canterlot?” she asked.

“I had suspicions,” Celestia admitted, “But they were unconfirmed. We sent scouts as soon as Canterlot had been built, and they found Fillydelphia already founded, but we had no way of knowing who was first. We never believed their story about the ship, and the strange creatures who nurtured them. The scholars never wrote the legend in full, and eventually, the humans were forgotten. What a fool I was,” she said glumly, shaking her head.

______________________________________________________________________________

Another snap and Charlie was now holding a faded piece of paper, which had on it the names of ten cities, each written with different handwriting.

“Read them out,” Discord instructed, “Twilight here can guess what they’re called now.”

He read the names, Twilight answering each time, more and more amazed at how widely the humans, or at least the memory of the humans, had left their mark on modern Equestria.

Manhattan, Manehattan; Baltimore, Baltimare; San Francisco, San Franciscolt; Seattle, Seaddle; Minneapolis, Whinnyapolis.

“Detroit,” Charlie said, naming the seventh city on the list.

“Detrot,” Twilight answered almost subconsciously, as she was thinking about how all of Equestria’s oldest and greatest cities were all of a human legacy.

“Filthy places, Detroit and Detrot,” Discord said after Twilight named the location.

“What do you mean?” she asked, now snapped back into reality, “Detrot is a hub of Pony industry!”

“Have you been there?”

Once Twilight answered that she hadn’t, Discord requested the Humans and Princesses to “hold on a moment”, then snapped his fingers, ejecting himself and Twilight from the mostly vacant banquet hall, before appearing again a minute later, exactly where they stood before.

“That was. . .atrocious,” Twilight said numbly.

“Told you,” Discord replied, unaffected and smug.

______________________________________________________________________________

According to Discord, the final three cities, Liverfoal, Manechester, and Trottingham were the result of three British officers sent to also observe the project.”

The two Princesses were noticeably shaken by the scope of the revelation Discord had brought before them.

“Why were we not informed sooner?!” Luna had demanded, using the Royal Canterlot Voice in the hopes of intimidation.

“Slipped my mind,” Discord had dismissively replied, seemingly more interested in his nails than the physical Gods and their questions.

Celestia had thanked Graham and Charlie for being there, and said her and Luna had much to talk with Discord about, so asked that they wait outside the room with Twilight Sparkle.

“A lot to take in, isn’t it?” Charlie asked as they sat around a small table usually for Palace staff when the banquet hall was not in use.

“In honesty,” Graham replied, “I’m pretty shocked; especially to think we’re not the first humans to be here. One thing that really stuck with me though. . .”

“Yes?” Charlie politely said, hoping he’d continue.

“When I first heard it was ruled by a Princess, supreme ruler for life and all, I was expecting a Margaret Thatcher sort of thing going on. I’m pretty surprised she’s ruled so well for so long. More so when I compare it to that Discord and his reign,” he stopped and shuddered ever so slightly at that point.

“I know what you mean about Discord,” Twilight said from across the table.

To pass the time outside the hall, Twilight told the two her stories, from Nightmare Moon, to Discord, to the Changelings, and finally King Sombra. She had just finished her tale from the Crystal Empire when Celestia emerged from the hall.

“I’m not guaranteeing anything,” she said crisply, “But it’s quite possible you two will be able to go home, soon.”