//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Dashed Expectations // by Gurumane //------------------------------// This is written for the sole reason that certain people seemed to think that my little fic needed a happy/alternate ending. It continues right after the other left off, though whether the story should have ended there is up to you. Quasi Epilogue of Much Longness Alan saw nothing but a dark endless void, filling every corner of existence. For no apparent reason, the void seemed to fill itself, and slowly light made its way into the newly created part of reality, stripping away some of the shadows, and exposing the blinding source. Acting purely on instinct, he floated towards it, and the light intensified progressively until he finally found himself standing in front of massive ornate off-white gates. A turbaned and robed gentleman with an enormous beard and spectacles sat at a little table beside the gates, quite engrossed with a small and shiny object, occasionally chuckling or frowning at it. Alan drew closer and discovered the thing to be a smartphone; the man’s fingers moving across it at incredible speeds. Alan simply stood there for a few moments, too polite to interrupt. His patience with the man soon ran out, and he cleared his throat loudly, “Harumph!” He waited a few expectant moments, but nothing happened. “HARUMPH!” The man at the desk simply shifted and bumped an enormous ledger marked ‘The Book of Life; An Exhaustive Compilation of Immortal Souls.’ Alan’s eyes widened as he realized the implications, growing more agitated. Unable to hold back any longer, he shouted “PETER!” in the man’s ear. Irritated, the man looked away from his screen and griped, “Dash it all, Andrew! Can’t you see I’m busy? I’ve almost reached level...” The seated gentleman paused in mid sentence and adjusted his glasses. “I am sorry. I just lose myself in a that game of “mortal birds”... it makes me forget my job sometimes.” Here the man shuffled a few papers about and grabbed the ledger. “What was your name again young man? You already seem to know mine.” “Alan Aleric.” Flipping through the book and muttering to himself about bizarre mortal naming practices, Peter ran a finger over several pages before stopping and looking up. “Hmmm. Is this you: ‘Alan Aleric; Cause of death: Hit by bus’?” Alan shook his head. “How about...hmmm...hit by train?” Again Alan shook his head and Peter continued to scan the page. “Hit by meteor?” “No.” “Killed by rabid lemmings?” “No.” “Sacrificed to chipmunks?” “No.” “Hmmmm. Shot by mobsters?” “No.” “There’s only one left, let’s hope it’s you. Let’s see...Slain by Rainbow Dash...wait, WHAT?! That can’t be right.” “But it is,” stated Alan, “Even I don’t really know what happened. One day I was camping in the woods, the next I was in Equestria...” Peter looked back and forth between the page and Alan, closely examining the picture next to his description in ledger before sighing heavily. “Fine. Somehow that’s you, but this means getting in will be a little more difficult. Even though you technically are entitled by grace to enter, you died in an alternate universe, so you may be subject to the afterlife rules for that one. I need consult someone about it. Please follow me.” Peter got up from his desk and made his way to a small door built into the main gate. Together, they passed through and came to a small lobby with tacky gold trim, chairs, floor. On one side was a golden sign that read ‘Bureau of Interdimensional Relocation,’ to the other was a pile of paperwork. Peter motioned Alan to take a seat then walked to the desk and rang a gold bell labeled ‘ding for service’ multiple times, summoning an angry voice from inside the office. A dishevelled looking man came out. Like Peter, he wore a robe and a beard, but was somewhat shorter. “Alright Peter, what do you want?” “I’m actually here on official business, Thomas.” Thomas snorted derisively as Peter pointed at the seated Alan, “This guy got himself killed over in universe E4.” “I don’t believe it.” “You never believe anything, Thomas. It was right there in the ledger.” “Fine. But you know what this means, don’t you? Paperwork.” Thomas pointed angrily at the pile in the corner. “Loads of blasted paperwork. And that’s just for the fact that he GOT to another universe. Serves us right for letting Matthew design the application system. Stupid tax collectors.” From the back room came, “I heard that! Don’t make me audit you.” Twenty minutes later, Alan was still busy scribbling away at a pile of scrolls almost as tall as he was. Though he knew it to be (mostly) impossible, he could swear he filled out the same form multiple times as well as several income tax forms. By the time he got to the Ro323 form at the bottom, he was extremely tired and frustrated, not to mention his wrist was sore. He got up to stretch, when the door to the office suddenly crashed open to let an impressive winged figure through. “Michael, must you always be so showy?” Thomas whined, “We just fixed the hole you made in the wall last time!” Ignoring the angry little man before him, Michael announced, “I have come for Alan. The E4 angelic head has summoned him.” “But he’s not done with his paperwork!” cried a small wiry man in horn-rimmed glasses as he ran out with armloads of other scrolls. “I think this is more important than your forms, Matthew,” said Peter. Matthew looked hurt and began to argue with Peter over the importance of paperwork as Michael led Alan out the door and down a corridor. As they walked along, the angel’s monstrous wings continually brushed against the wall and ceiling, knocking things over; but he continued, oblivious the the havoc he caused. Eventually they reached an massive golden door guarded by an angel with a drawn sword. Michael nodded and the angel stepped aside, opening the door so they could pass. “Morning, Tal.” “Morning, sir.” As they passed through the gold door, Alan noticed the atmosphere change, becoming more open, almost as if he had stepped outside. Light was shimmering to the room through a glass ceiling, a few vents thrown open to promote a breeze, while the walls were tastefully furnished in darkly stained mahogany. In one corner was a desk, and behind it sat... “Princess Celestia?! I...bu...wha...” Alan descended into incoherent babbling, obviously too shocked to continue. The white alicorn looked up from her book and smiled, nodding to Michael. Michael sighed and turned to Alan and began explaining. “You are wondering how this is possible, are you not? As you may be aware, the Creator created your universe. What you may not know is that He also created many other universes. The place you know as Equestria is simply another of these universes, separated by the void. For each universe He assigned a regent to combat the dark ones. I am the commander for His forces in your universe, just as Celestia and her sister are the commanders in Equestria.” Michael’s explanation was mind boggling to Alan, but he somewhat understood what Michael was getting at. Still, something was bothering him. “If these universes are separate, how did I get into Equestria from my universe?” asked Alan. “Occasionally universes overlap; the borders between them fading and allowing a bleedthrough effect. The angelic hosts have not been fully informed as to why this occurs, but we believe it to be part of a larger plan we cannot comprehend, as such things often are,” replied Michael. “Thank you, Michael. I’ll take it from here. I’ll be done by the Angelic Dimensional Council’s luncheon this afternoon,” said Celestia to the archangel before turning to Alan and motioning to a chair in front of the desk with her wing. “Have a seat, my little mortal.” Alan’s eyebrow twitched. “I suppose you are wondering why I have summoned you, Alan. Your recent entry into my little nation has caused quite a stir, not to mention traumatising some of my most beloved subjects. Rainbow Dash in particular has been very distraught and Twilight has been sending me letters at a frightening pace asking for help in explaining your appearance.” “I’m sorry if I messed anything up. I’d like to fix it, but...well...I’m dead.” Celestia responded with a motherly (if awkward) smile and answered: “Ah, well... You see... There is a way to help...” “Wait!? There is?” The implied question was all too obvious in his tone, but she seemed to want him to ask it anyway. “How am I supposed to do to fix this? I have been dead for some time. Actually, how long have I been dead for? My body wouldn’t exactly in be good shape after any significant amount of time...” “I’m afraid you’re right, Alan. Rainbow insisted on a proper pegasus funeral for you, quite the honor, in fact..., however, this means your body was burned at the end of the ceremony. It really was a lovely funeral. Unfortunately for us, it is very difficult to reanimate ashes.” “So...how do you expect me to solve our problem?” “I filed a request with the Creator to grant you a new body, but the paperwork for obtaining a human body in my domain was so dreadfully extensive that I’m afraid you can’t go back as a such. That is, if you still want to have go at fixing this. Do you?” Alan hung his head in thought. If he accepted, on one hand, he would no longer be human, but on the other, he might be able to fix the many lives he messed up. If he stayed, he had all that paperwork left to do, so... “I’ll do it.” “I am happy to hear that, my little mortal, or should I say: my little pony. The required paperwork is all in order, all you need to do now is to provide your signature.” A golden aura surrounded one of the pens on Celestia’s desk and held it out to Alan. With trepidation, Alan hesitantly took the pen and scribbled his signature across the bottom of the paper. Alan groaned as the wind whistled in his ears. It was so annoying that he flicked them. As he did, he started at the strange sensation of doing so. He opened his eyes and sat bolt upright, taking in everything a bit too quickly, giving himself a headache. A melodious chuckle drifted from above and he squinted upwards to see the shape of Princess Celestia towering over him. “Hello, my little pony. I see you’re finally awake.” “So I’m...?” “Yes, Alan, you are once more in the land of the living. You are on a flying chariot bound for Canterlot at present.” “Oh Quirke!” Alan wrapped a pair of tan hooves around a nearby railing and hung on as tightly as he could, closing his eyes. “What is wrong, my little pony?” asked Celestia. “I. Don’t. Like. Heights.” said Alan through tightly clenched teeth. “I assure you: it’s perfectly safe,” Celestia said in an amused tone. “I don’t care!” wailed Alan. Celestia got a mischievous look on her face. “Tough luck, my little pony.” “Stop calling me that!” It was about 2 o’clock when the chariot landed in the castle courtyard, letting Alan out , just to have him stumble out onto the solid ground. Celestia stepped regally from the chariot and over her newest subject, giving him knowing and yet amused smile before turning to one of the nearby guards and whispering in his ear. The latter approached Alan before somewhat gently tapping him on the head with an armored hoof. “Oy! Frightened excuse for an earthpony!, Get up. Now. I have orders to take you to to your quarters, and I want to make it quick, capiche?” Alan responded with little more than a tired groan. “Hey fellas, this sorry waste of space doesn’t want to move! Got any *chuckle* ideas?” the guard called to his compatriots. “Yeah! You bet!” said one, before turning to a janitor pulling a mop bucket across the courtyard. “Sweepy, old chap, can we borrow your bucket of mop water?” Alan bolted shakily for the castle door; mocking laughter from the guards accompanying him the whole way. After a small amount of panicked galloping, the first guard caught up with the newcomer, the “newborn”’s lack of experience in this form making the task all the easier. “Your quarters are this way,” motioned the amused guard. “Fine,” muttered a dejected Alan as he followed the guard’s lead. “I’d like to get some sleep.” “You’ll need it.” Early the next morning, Alan was brought to an elliptical office situated to the left of the throne room. A plaque on the door labeled it as the ‘Immigration Office.’ When he entered, he found Princess Luna was sitting behind a large polished granite slab that served as a desk. “Good morning, Alan,” said the princess of the night with a small yawn. “It has come to our attention that you made an unauthorized incursion onto Equestrian soil and caused traumatizing experiences for multiple residents of the town of Ponyville. How dost thou explain thyse...I mean, what do you have...BOTHER! YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.” Alan was almost deafened by the use of the Royal Canterlot Voice in an enclosed space. He stumbled around for a few moments before recovering. “WE … I mean, I am sorry,” apologized the princess, “old habits die hard. Now, please answer the question.” Alan hung his head before shakily responding, “I am extremely sorry that I caused anyone in Equestria harm and wish to fix the mess I made.” “Very good. Do you have any plans as to what you will do after you have repaired your mess in Ponyville?” “Um...no I...” “This crown will not use taxpayer bits to pay for you to stay here and be unproductive. Do you have any job experience or know any trades? Will you be a burden on our society Mr. Aleric?” “I thought I was just staying long enough to fix my mess,” said Alan. “You thought wrong, then,” snapped the princess. “Did you even bother to read the form my sister pushed at you before signing it?” “ ... Err ... No … I …” “Did you miss the part where you agreed to become a pony for the remainder of what would have been your natural life span? Did you not realize the implications?” Alan gulped as he realized his oversight and tried unsuccessfully to vanish into the carpet. “I shall take that as a no, then. No matter. You signed the contract, so we are stuck with a new Equestrian citizen. We might as well make something out of you…,” Luna sighed in resignation, “So, I’ll ask again: do you have any job experience or know any trades? What did you do for a living? Did you do anything whatsoever?” Alan gulped, “I… I’ve always liked to work with my hands...” Alan paused, noticing Luna’s confused expression and corrected himself, “...er, hooves.” An exclamation of comprehension interrupted what he was going to say next. Taking the non-verbal apology as a signal to continue, the former human did so. “I was in college before the, um, incident, but hadn’t decided on a major yet. I like to think I’m a hard worker, though.” “Hmmm. The fact that you are now an earth pony somewhat limits the fields you can excel at, although truly extraordinary workponyship can emulate the effects of magic or flight. I shall have several of the city’s craftsponies see if they have any use for you and work from there. How does that sound?” “Th-thanks!” stuttered Alan. “Is something still troubling you? You seem to have a few questions.” “I, um, I was wondering why I don’t have a cutie mark,” said Alan with a forlorn glance at his flank, “It also crossed my mind that I might need to change my name or something.” Luna’s severe expression softened and her voice seemed to lose its edge. “Your name will suite you just fine, Alan. Though it might be slightly out of place here, it is yours, and one of the few things you have left. As for your cutie mark, such things take time. Be patient, it will come in its own time.” “Thank you princess,” said Alan, visibly relieved. “Um... so... um... what should I do in the meantime?” The princess acquired a mischievous grin. “You can start by not saying ‘um’ as often. Then, fill out these identification card request and social security application forms. You might need the latter if you can’t get a job right away...” Alan groaned in despair at everyone’s seeming obsession with paperwork. Alan had just finished filling yet another mountain of mostly repetitive forms when Luna returned with several successful-looking businessponies, the esteemed Fancypants among them. As the princess once more took her seat behind the desk, she motioned to Alan. “I have already apprised you of this pony’s current position, and I would appreciate if you gave him the honor of your employ. He claims to be a hard worker, but has no specific area of expertise. He does seem to enjoy manual labor, though.” The entrepreneur shifted nervously, both aware that it could be risky to employ such an untried pony that lacked a cutie mark and that they had little choice in the matter. It might not have been overt, but they knew they had to take him on one by one until he found a place in the workforce, or risk their princess’s ire. One or two pulled out small record books and studied them intently. The silence grew awkward until Fancypants gave the applicant a smile and spoke. “I believe I may have some openings in one or two of the shops I own. Surely I can find something for this fellow to do. Alan was it?” Alan nodded and most of the others let out a sigh of relief; all but one that is. “You know I hate to argue with you, Fancypants, but we all know your holdings are already overflowing with ponies you’ve felt obliged to help. Let the rest of us do at least one good deed!” said an ash unicorn with a jet black mane and a cutie mark of a pair of interlocking cogs. “The foreman at one of my shops informed me that he was in need of an apprentice. Do you have any aptitude for mechanics, my boy?” said the unicorn, looking Alan over with an appraising eye. Alan gulped, nervous as could be, but managed a decent response. “I was always fascinated by how things worked, sir. Though I don’t know much, I’d be happy to learn. If you’ll have me, that is.” “That’s just what I like to hear!” exclaimed the interested stallion. “If the princess will allow, I’d like to have you at the shop on Turning Lane early tomorrow morning.” The unicorn looked expectantly at Luna. “Very well, sir Cogsworthy the IV, he will be there.” “Thank you, princess,” said the aforementioned pony. “You’re welcome,” said the princess with an obvious look toward the door, “Now, since this matter is taken care of for now, I’m sure such important ponies as yourselves have other places to be. If you’ll excuse us...” The businessponies got the hint and left the room with slight bows and many meaningless goodbyes. Alan let out a breath after they had all gone. The princess looked at Alan. “Well, that’s taken care of. Cogsworthy runs a good company, so you’ll be in capable hooves. We’ll see how this works out before sending you back to Ponyville.” Alan nodded and Luna smirked at him. “Now, you had best return to your quarters, my little pony, before I give you more paperwork.” “Why do you all call me that?” despaired Alan. The next morning came faster than Alan would have liked, and soon he found himself in front of of the shop in a more industrial portion of Canterlot, hidden in a declivity of the mountainside. The building was large and in need of paint in some places, but still appeared to be in excellent condition otherwise. Above the door was a sign which reading ‘Cogsworthy Mechanics; high quality products since 884.’ Alan repressed whatever second thoughts he had and rapped a hoof on the small wooden door to one side of the building. The sound of grinding gears came from inside, followed by a shout muffled by the door . Suddenly, the door flew open, letting a goggled and oil-stained head of a pony out. He pushed the goggles onto his forehead with a grimy hoof and looked about, grinning widely upon spotting Alan, his white teeth vividly contrasting his filthy coat. “Ah! Yeh must be the new guy thah were sending out today. Come in, come in! I’m yer new boss, Greaser!” the mechanic pony practically yelled in Alan’s face, before vanishing back inside. Alan took an involuntary step back appalled by the pony’s terrible breath. Reluctantly, he followed his new boss into the shop, only to have his jaw drop in surprise. Despite expectations, the interior of the shop was perfectly clean and orderly, Unlike the pony who ran it. Said Pony gave Alan a look, indicating he knew what any intruder might think if they entered his little haven. “I’m a mess, I’ll give you that. Better me than everything else, right?. Let me find the new employment papers, then yeh can get started by tightening the hex screws on that thingamajig over there. When yer done, I need ta talk to yeh, so meet me over at the table over there. What’s yer name, anyhow? I never did catch it.” “Alan,” said he as he walked to the desk and sighed. More paperwork always crept around the corner. Always. Once the paperwork was done and the screws tightened, a very nervous Alan found himself sitting across the table from Greaser. The ash colored stallion occupied himself by slowly filling up a glass of water from a nearby cooler and sipping it. He eyed Alan as he sipped his glass and reached over to fill another. ‘He’s doing this on purpose,’ thought Alan irritably, ‘This has to be some sort of test, but of what?’ Greaser noticed Alan’s confused look and made a show of sipping his glass even more slowly before setting it down with a long drawn out sigh of pleasure. “That really hits the spot. ‘worked up quite the thirst watching yeh fiddle with that wrench.” Alan’s eye twitched. “Why yeh insisted on using yer hooves to attempt to tighten those screws is beyond me, shoulda just used yer mouth like any normal pony. But yeh aren’t a normal pony, are you...Alan, was it?” Greaser’s green eyes drilled into Alan’s. “S-sir?” stuttered Alan. “For one, after me boss-yeh remember Cogsworthy, right?-told me he found somepony to fill the vacancy-that would be yeh, laddy-he babbled about yeh being a special case from the royal court itself, and that I was to treat yeh with care. Then, there’s the part about not having a cutie mark. Yeh should have one by now, yeh know. Ain’t natural...” Greaser looked pointedly at Alan before continuing, “Shortly after yeh got here, I received a letter with a royal seal detailing that, when yeh had earned enough money, I was to let yeh go on yer merry way to Ponyville. Care to explain why that is?” “I...I, um, need to tie up some loose ends in Ponyville as it were. I don’t think I’m allowed to say more than that...” Alan said looking down at the table. Greaser stroked his chin in thought. “There have been some strange stuff going on in Ponyville recently, all hushed up by the government. I don’t suppose yeh have anything to do with that?” Alan began to reply, but an oil stained hoof rose, cutting him off as Greaser continued. “I wouldn’t give yeh a hair of me pelt for it. Whatever happened in Ponyville is the princesses’ business, not mine; and until yeh earn enough, it won’t be yers either. I don’t care what’s happened or oh how special yeh are, but until I see fit to let yeh go, Yer mine, princesses be damned. Is that clear?” Alan managed a shaky nod while looking at the table. “did yeh not hear me? I said, IS THAT CLEAR?!” Greaser practically shouted across the table. “Yes s-sir!” Frightened, Alan started, making him look up at his new boss with wide eyes. “Stop stuttering, it makes yeh sound stupid,” said Greaser, “And close your mouth, I can yell to me heart’s content, so long as I get me job done, nopony cares. Now let’s go back over to that thing yeh were pretending to work on, and I’ll teach yeh the proper way to hold a wrench, yeh dolt.” It didn’t take long before Alan realized he loved his new job. He quickly found out that Greaser was not quite as mean spirited as he at first seemed. While the ashen pony seemed harsh at first, Alan soon found him to simply be zealous about his work. What seemed like schizophrenia were simply his attempts to lighten the mood. Greaser was right about his original wrench holding method, of course. He found using his mouth to be better, for while doing so was both difficult and frustrating to somepony who had once had the use of hands, given practice, it was the most efficient manner possible. Cogsworthy himself praised the immigrant on his growing skill when he stopped by several days after Alan started work at the shop. Behind his goggles, however, Greaser seemed to remain unimpressed, constantly pointing out how Alan could do better in a firm, disapproving tone; motivating Alan to improve steadily. One day, even old greaser found no flaws in his work, and that day, Alan gained his cutie mark. It was a rainy day in Canterlot that day, but that meant little more to two grease stained ponies working away in the dry confines of the machine shop than a light drumming on the roof that resonated throughout the building. While Greaser was busying himself with a lathe in one corner of the room, Alan was working on a contraption some rich gentlepony had sent in. It was some kind of experimental flying machine that returned nearly every week in needs of repair, accompanied by plans for new modifications. Jokingly referred to as the employee of the month by Greaser, it brought in large sums on a regular basis. Alan was thinking about this future as he was tightening up the hex screws on the lower portion when it struck him. He liked working with machines and he wanted to fix things, improve, and build things. He decided that he was going to be a mechanic, and that he’d sure as heck try to be the best mechanic you ever did see. As Alan finished, Greaser came over to check his work. “Well,” Alan half joked, “what did I do wrong this time?” Greaser frowned as he examined the finest detail with a raptor’s gaze before looking straight at Alan with a smirk. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t find anything wrong today. Oh, and yeh’ve got something on yer rump, laddy. Might want to wipe it off.” Alan turned his head to see what Greaser was talking about. After a small bit of puzzled staring, he finally noticed it, making his eyes go wide. “I’ve-I’ve got my cutie mark!” Alan yelled and jumped about like a little filly, before stopping suddenly and looking back to Greaser. “um... What is it, exactly? I can’t get a good look at it.” “Yeh want me to look at yer rump, lad?” mocked Greaser, the grin on his face getting bigger. “Are yeh sure?” Unamused Alan gave Greaser a stare. “Really?” “Fine... *mutter* *mutter* can’t take a joke *mutter*,” grumbled Greaser. “It’s an Allen wrench.” “Oh. funny. Sure. Make fun of my name.” “I’m serious, lad.” “You would be...” Disgruntled, Alan groaned and facehoofed. At least, his name made sense now. Time made its course after that. Days dragged on to weeks, and weeks into months as Alan put all thought and efforts into learning his new trade, nearly forgetting his mess in Ponyville, as what little time Alan did not spend working was generally spent eating or sleeping. It almost surprised him when a noontime knock did not signal the arrival of the postman, nor that of a customer, but the presence of a royal guard bearing summons. As the door opened, the messenger began, forgoing even a polite hello. “By the decree of her most royal highness, Princess Luna, I come bearing a summons for the earthpony known as Alan,” announced the gold plated pegasus, “He is to appear in court by noon tomorrow.” The two oil stained earthponies standing in the shop’s doorway looked at each other; to an unskilled eye, they looked almost like brothers, so filthy were their coats. The awkwardness of the situation growing by the minute, one of them finally stepped forward, catching the attention of the poor representative of the law. “I am Alan,” said he, “Is there anything more in the message?” The guard shook his head before looking up and down the street for any ponies watching. Seeing none, he coughed nervously and took off his helmet. “Er, no, there is nothing more, but I was wondering, since you run a metal shop and all, if you could see about fixing my helmet?” The pegasus rubbed at a portion of the metal and a chunk of putty fell away, revealing a goodly sized dent. “I’d take it to the palace armorer, but Sarge would find out and would kill me.” The earthpony behind Alan came closer to examine the helm, whistling softly when he saw the size of the dent. “So, how did this happen?” “Me and some of my buddies were out drinking one night, and we decided to ram our heads into things, you know, to see how tough the armor was and... if Sarge founds out-” Greaser cut him off. “He’ll kill yeh. We know, we know. Do yeh have money to pay for the repair job?” “Er... well.. you see... I... no. I was kinda hoping you’d fix it out of charitable feelings towards the armed forces, or something like that,” the guard said shamefully. “Sorry son,” patronized Greaser, “I’m patriotic, but not that patriotic. Come on, Alan, our favorite flying machine needs work. We wouldn’t want to keep this soldier from an important meeting with his commanding officer, would we?” Greaser grinned evilly and slammed the door on the sputtering soldier before looked at Alan. “Wondered when they’d finally come for yeh. Guess I know now. On another note: what a baffoon! Frankly I’m surprised his sarge hasn’t spotted that dent yet. Guess they’ll promote anypony these days.” “It took you long enough to get here, Alan. We had expected to have this meeting far sooner.” “S-sorry, Princess,” stuttered Alan. “Now sister,” rebuked Celestia, “don’t be so harsh on Alan. He’s here now, as requested.” “But he was supposed to be here when he had enough money to get to Ponyville and back! It’s been months.” Luna whirled on hapless Alan. “So, care to explain why you weren’t here earlier?” Ashamed, Alan tried his best to sink into the floor. “Luna! Show some restraints! Look at him! You’re scaring him!” exclaimed Celestia before turning back to Alan. “It is a valid question, however.” “I... guess I kinda lost track of time,” said Alan, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. This time, both princesses looked at him, not believing he used an excuse that is sketchy at best when you are late by a few hours, much less by months. Sheepishly, He added “and I was dreading going back, too.” “Why? You came back for the sole reason of making this right. Why are you backing out now?” “What if they don’t accept my apology? What if I just make things worse?” “Then you will have failed,” Luna said gravely. “Luna!” Celestia almost shouted before turning to Alan. “I am sure they will accept your apology, my little pony. It was an accident after all.” “Some might want to apologize to you, even if it should be the other way around...” Luna muttered. Alan gulped and timidly asked, “What if they don’t forgive me?” “That will have been their choice,” reassured Celestia, “and I am sure you will have tried your hardest.” “However, be sure to have groveled at their hooves until they find it more convenient to forgive you,” said Luna with a smirk, earning a quick glare from Celestia. “What? He should at least try it...” responded Luna innocently. Celestia’s left eyebrow twitched. “Would you at least try not to pester our new subject, sister? He’s doing his best to make things right.” “But it’s so much fun, Tia! He reacts so perfectly, just look at him cowering.” At this, Alan straightened his back and forcibly stopped his hooves from shaking. He was not cowering...was he? “Did you learn anything from Nightmare Night other than pranking, sister?” An exasperated Celestia asked. “At least we-I mean I didn't use the Royal Canterlot Voice or the royal ‘we’ this time. I didn’t even call him ‘thou!’” protested Luna. Celestia facehoofed. “Why do you have to be my sister?” “Because I am the great and powerful Luna! You are lucky to have me.” “I should have sent in a request to have you stay on the moon another millenium. it might have done you good...” sighed Celestia. “But Tiaaaaaa!” whined Luna, “Then you wouldn’t have me to talk to,” Luna paused before continuing with a smirk, “or run the tax bureau, for that matter.” “O ye cruel tax collector...” When they had ignored him for five additional consecutive minutes, thoroughly absorbed by their royal banter, he awkwardly scooted out and left them to their ridiculous task. A guard near the door straightened as Alan walked past, trying to look as if he hadn’t been on the floor laughing moments before. “Oh shush, you or I’m going to tell your sargeant about that helmet.” With a squeal of brakes, the train pulled into the Ponyville station. The town seemed bigger than before, maybe because he was dreading the imminent confrontation. It might also have been a side effect of being nearly three feet shorter. This time, nopony gave him a second look as he walked into the marketplace. There were no screams of terror or running ponies, and there were definitely no fatal rainbow coloured blurs slamming into him. Despite the lack of general panic, Alan still shied away from the wall of Sugarcube Corner, bumping into a lampost, distracted by bad memories surfacing in his mind. “You alright there?” asked a brown earthpony stallion with a spiky dark mane and an hourglass for a cutie mark. “Yeah, I just got lost in thought is all. You wouldn’t know of any hotels in the vicinity, would you?” The stallion paused for a moment to think before answering “The closest would be the Daisy Inn two blocks that way, but, if you want options, you could try the Mareiott three blocks over in that direction.” He pointed again. “There are several more, but I can’t remember them off the top of my head. They’re clustered near the others, though, and not that hard to find.” Having thanked the pony and gone in the direction of the first establishment mentioned Alan found that, like most of the buildings in Ponyville, the Daisy Inn had a style reminiscent of the villages of Bavaria. Large beams framed a thatched roof and brightly shuttered windows. ‘It has a very relaxed feel to it,’ thought Alan before entering the door to the lobby and renting a room. After what little baggage he had was stowed, he headed toward the library once again, finding it ironic that he still needed Twilight’s help. Alan found the library without too much trouble, for, after all, it was a giant tree near the center of town. The street signs indicating its location might have helped too. With trepidation, Alan knocked on the door, quickly answered by a small purple dragon that looked at him with a bored expression. “Can I help you?” inquired the disinterested fellow “Yeah. I’m looking for Twilight,” explained Alan, “Is she in?” “Nah. She’s out at Sweet Apple Acres. Should I take a message for you and give it to her when she gets back?” “No, that’s alright. I’ll just go meet her there. Thanks anyway.” “Sure. Whatever,” muttered the purple dragon groggily as he watched Alan trot away. Sweet Apple Acres really wasn’t all that far from Ponyville, but to Alan, it seemed like the walk took forever. Finally, he was going to have to face one the ponies he had hurt (albeit unintentionally). He knew he needed to do it, now that the time had come, he found he would rather not. ‘Why did doing the right thing have to be so hard?!’ With each step towards his destination, Alan’s sense of guilt grew. Would she forgive him? Maybe, worse would happen, and she wouldn’t even believe that he was Alan? His thoughts raced, coming up with every possible thing that could go wrong with what he was about to do. Why hadn’t Celestia written to Twilight to tell her that he was coming? Maybe she had, but didn’t tell him... Was this some kind of horrible heavenly joke orchestrated by Peter or some other angel? Lost in his contemplations, he didn’t even notice that he had arrived. An issue quickly remedied when he ran head first into the new red barn, leaving him with a painful spot on the head and slight disorientation. “Ya’ll alright, mister?” asked a small yellow blur. “No.” “No need ta get snippy, Ah just want to help. Besides, yer on mah sister’s property.” Alan put a hoof to his head in an attempt to ease the pain. That voice sounded familiar, but why. He groaned as realization struck him. This could complicate matters... “A-Applebloom?” “How d’ya’ll know mah name?! Ah don’ think Ah’ve seen ya before.” “Er...gah!” Alan clutched his head as the pain swelled up again. “Ya’ll need help?” “No...I just need to-” “Applebloom, what did Ah tell ya’ll about speakin’ to strangers?” interrupted a very loud and heavily accented voice. “Don’t go with dem and offer dem to come fer supper...” answered Applebloom in a downcast voice. “Who is that anyway? Why is he layin’ on the ground like that? Did you do this to ‘im?” “Ah don’t know, sis! Ah heard a bang an’ Ah jus’ found him layin’ here.” “Ah swear, if Ah wasn’t the element of honesty and lying to me wasn’t impossible, ah wouldn’t believe ya.” Alan groaned at the entire situation. This wasn’t the entrance he had planned to make. Why did everything have to go wrong for him? “Er, sorry about that, Mr...what is yer name anyway?” asked Applejack, turning to him suddenly. “Alan,” said he, rubbing his aching head, “I was actually coming to talk to you, believe it or not.” “Alan? Shucks! Ah once met someone wit’ th’ exact same name... Ah doubt ya’ll know him... Anyway, what did ya’ll come see me fer? Do you want to buy some apples? We have the best ones in all of Equestria, ya know...” “Actually,” interupted Alan, as he sat up, “I need to talk to you in private about something.” “You aren’t from the ERS, are you?” “No, I’m here because-” “Applejack,” said a purple unicorn mare, “I’ve been looking all over for you! You said you’d only be gone for just a little bit and-who’s that? Oh my gosh! Is he ok? He looks like he damaged his cranium by impact with a blunt object!” “He just hit his head, Twilight,” said Applejack. “He’ll be fine.” “But that’s what I just... fine. But who is he?” asked Twilight. “Alan,” said the tan earth pony, “I need to talk to you as well.” He gulped, anticipating the next few hours of his life (and plans to run away...). “About what?” inquired Twilight. “Not here, I need to talk to both you and Applejack in private...it’s kind of important.” “Do I know you?” asked Twilight curiously. “We’ve met before,” snorted Alan, “And that’s what I came to talk to you two about.” “Ah certainly don’t remember you,” said the farmpony, “Do ya remember when an’ where it was?” Alan gulped again. This was it. “It was about two months ago, against the wall of Sugarcube Corner. You were both there, with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy.” Both mares looked at each other before realizing what the occasion. In the light of the revelation, they both gasped. “Applebloom. Go inside.” said Applejack, “This a matter for the big ponies.” “But Ah am a big pony!” protested Applebloom as she struggled away. Twilight watched her leave before turning back to Alan. “Who are you, really?” “Alan Aleric. I’ve come to-” “How do you know that name?!” asked Twilight angrily. “I don’t care who put you up to this, but it isn’t funny. What happened that day really messed up Rainbow Dash. I can’t believe anypony would be so heartless as to- “He’s tellin’ the truth, sugarcube,” said Applejack quietly, “Ah can tell. I don’t know how he can be, but he’s tellin’ the truth.” “What?!” practically screamed Twilight. “But...but Alan, our Alan, wasn’t even a pony! We watched him die. I watched his body burn in the funeral pyre. I saw Rainbow Dash scatter his ashes. It’s not possible!” “I assure you it is,” said Alan carefully, “I’ve been sent back so I can-” “Sent back?! By who?!” cried Twilight. “Are you implying that there’s life after death? Why aren’t you, well, whatever you were before?! Gah!” “Calm down, sugarcube. Yer likely to-” “Likely to what, Applejack?” yelled Twilight, her voice growing more squeaky, “Break my mind trying to understand the secrets of the universe?!” Twilight finished her rant, her chest heaving. “Easy, Twilight, ya might hurt yerself. Alan, you were about to say why you came back when somepony interrupted ya. Would ya care to continue?” with this, Applejack gave twilight a pointed look, to which the latter responded by being properly ashamed Alan sighed and took a deep breath to calm his nerves before explaining. “I-I came back to apologize to all of you. All of the ponies I hurt, even if it was by accident. I’m truly sorry. Will you forgive me?” “A’course we forgive you, sugarcube. Ya’ll didn’t mean ta cause any harm. Heh, if anything we hurt you a lot more’n you hurt us. The one you really ought to see is RD, though. She’s beat herself up real bad over what happened. Blames herself, and don’t come out in public no more.” “She’s right,” said Twilight, “Of course we forgive you, but Rainbow is the one you need to go talk to, not us.” “What do you mean? How is she?” “Not good,” answered the bumpkin, “She spends all day in that floatin’ house o’ hers and won’t talk to nopony. Not even her friends.” “That’s awful!” “Ah know. She’s been like that ever since the funeral.” “It’s my opinion that Rainbow Dash is suffering from post traumatic stress disorder,” said Twilight. “It would certainly explain her recent attitude. Maybe talking to you will take her out of it.” “I hope so,” said Alan dejectedly. “Could-could you please show me how to get there?” he nervously stuttered. “‘Course we can, sugarcube. That’s what friends are for, to be there for you in tough times.” “Friends? We barely met!” asked Alan, visibly puzzled. “Of course,” said Twilight, “Unless you don’t want to. You were decent enough to take the trouble to come back and apologize for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with, plus, even though we’ve known you for a very small amount of time, we’ve been through more than most friends have. There is a saying that a pony’s true colours show through in the worst of circumstances. Having seen you there, we know you’d make a good friend.” Truly touched, Alan was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth several times before Applejack spoke up. “Ah take it you want t’ go an’ see Rainbow now, right?” Still speechless, Alan nodded. As Alan, Applejack, and Twilight walked toward the hill under Rainbow Dash’s house, a sullen and depressed Fluttershy met them coming the other way. She didn’t seem to see Applejack and Twilight as she walked past, head hanging. “Hold up, sugarcube,” said Applejack, “What’s wrong with ya?” Fluttershy started, as if she had just woken up. “Oh, hi girls...” “Fluttershy, are you alright?” asked Twilight, concerned. Fluttershy looked down at her hooves. “I tried to talk to Rainbow again, and she sent me away. I was only trying to help...” She looked on the verge of tears. “There, there, sugarcube, you know it’s not your fault. The rest of us have moved on, but RD just cain’t seem to let it go.” “But-but what if she doesn’t? What if she stays like this?” “Ah have a feeling she won’t, honey,” reassured Applejack with a smile, “‘sides, we were just going to see her to try and wrap up this here mess.” “How?” asked Fluttershy. “I mean, we’ve all tried to get through to her, how could this time be any different?” “Cause this time we have him,” said Applejack, pointing at Alan. “W-who’s he? asked Fluttershy, seeming to shrink back into her mane as she suddenly noticed the male pony who’d been hanging back. “Alan,” said Twilight. “W-w-what?!” squeaked Fluttershy in terror. “B-but Alan is dead!” “I was,” said Alan. Fluttershy, seeming to recognize his voice, recoiled even further. “A-are you a ghost? Oh no! Nonononono!” The timid pegasus started to back away from the group, staring fearfully at Alan. “I’m alive, Fluttershy,” said Alan, “Don’t be afraid. Besides, I still need to apologize to you, as well and it’s pretty hard to do if you’re hiding from me.” “Apologize?” asked Fluttershy, still fearful but now confused, “Why would you want to apologize? You were the victim!” “Because,” said Alan, “Even though I didn’t mean to, I hurt you by coming to Ponyville. I messed up things and peo-ponies. Will you forgive me?” “Yes,” said Fluttershy, smiling, “Of course I forgive you. But, how are you here? I thought you were d-dead.” The last words seemed to be as hard to drag out as a cliff for her. “I was sent back. Celestia and Luna had a large part in it. I wanted to make things right.” “Sheesh!” muttered Twilight, “That’s more than he told me...” “Sorry,” apologised Alan sheepishly. Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just get to Rainbow’s and get this over with, ok?” Nodding (and in Alan’s case, gulping), the group, now of four ponies, continued on their way to confront to Rainbow Dash. As they neared their destination, the clouds seemed to become thicker, and the birds quieter. Upon reaching the top of the hill in front of Rainbow Dash’s cloud home, Alan was surprised to see signs littering the top of the hill, all bearing notices along the lines of ‘danger’ and ‘keep out’. The change in the perverse atmosphere was completed Rainbow’s home itself. The bright happy white clouds had been replaced by dark grey storm clouds, the rainbows had dried up. “Rainbow Dash,” called Twilight, “come out, we want to talk to you.” “Go away!” “RD, ya’ll come out now,” said Applejack firmly “I said, go away!” “B-but Rainbow-,” stuttered Fluttershy, but was cut off. “I already told you once today, Fluttershy. Don’t make me repeat myself. Now get lost, all of you.” “Rainbow, there’s somepony here to talk to you.” “Is there? Well I don’t want to talk to whoever it is, I might hurt him, too. So... so just leave me alone where I can’t hurt anyone else!” “You didn’t mean to, and we both know that,” said Alan. “Who said that?” “I did. It’s me, Alan, and I’ve come back to-” “Is this some sort of cruel joke?” said Rainbow, poking her head out of the cloud house. “I don’t know which one of you decided this would be funny, but it’s NOT! And you!” the blue pegasus pointed an accusing hoof at Alan, “How DARE you pretend to be … pretend to be... HIM?!. He wasn’t a pony, and he most certainly isn’t YOU. I saw him die. I watched his body burn and scattered his ashes myself. How could you even THINK of doing such a thing?! Now get lost before I hurt you, too. ON PURPOSE!” Alan cowered at the pegasus’ words. His plan was falling apart. In coming, he had only make things worse for Rainbow Dash. Why wouldn’t she believe him? He couldn’t prove anything. He hung his head and said, “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry?” said the blue pegasus in mock disbelief, “Sorry for trying to mislead me? Sorry for making me feel even worse? For failing?” “Yes,” sobbed Alan through hot tears of bitterness, “I’m sorry for failing. I never should have asked to be allowed to come back. I should have stayed dead. I never could have convinced you, and now, I realize that there was never any hope of that. Celestia believes me, your friends believe me, why can’t you believe me?” “Because you’re NOT ALAN!” “Fine. Even if I’m not, and even if you never will, I’ll still ask you to forgive me. Even though I apparently didn’t die forgiving you for killing me, I ask you to forgive me for not putting you through that. And even if you don’t forgive me, which I see now that you won’t, I must ask you to stop this madness. Your friends need you. Regardless of what happened, they care about you. All this time you’ve been trying to protect them from yourself, but you’re just hurting them further with your selfishness. Now, as you asked, I’m leaving. I hope you’re happy.” His failure having drained his will, the workpony began to canter back to Ponyville. He was just cresting the hill when he heard Rainbow Dash call, “Wait.” Alan froze. “I believe you.” “What? Why?” “The things you said. You wouldn’t have said them that way if you were faking it. I-I forgive you, too.” *Somewhere in heaven* “Told you it would work the whole time.” “Whatever Thomas, now leave me alone, I’ve nearly beat this level.” The END (AGAIN!) MLP and its respective characters belong to HASBRO, so please don’t sue me. Author’s Notes: Oddly, this bit is longer than the original. I wasn’t intending to write it, but I actually enjoy this part more that the first part. After all, who doesn’t enjoy St. Peter playing Angry Birds? Thanks again to everyone who helped last time, as well as Pyrotigre who coauthored a good deal this time around in addition to editing. Couldn’t have done it without him. He should also get some sleep.