Man o' the Moon

by Spout

Book 1

For many months, I have gathered my strength in the dark. I do not have eyes, nor a body in any proper sense of the word--my world has been shrouded in total darkness since that terrible night over two years ago. I can still feel the rays of the moon washing over me. I have felt this seven hundred times before. But this time... this time, something is different. Tonight, I not only feel the rays of the moon, but I can now see them! I fix my gaze skyward, and beyond the silhouette of the window arch, amidst the glittering stars, there floats a silvery white orb, nearly full, bright against the dark sky, and it... is... so... beautiful!
But something is missing. I remember what it used to be like to feel the night’s chill breeze against my skin, the cool grass beneath me. These memories, and these brief periods of moonlight, are my only respite from an otherwise constant, stinging numbness, and unbearable immobility. Sometimes I drift along the floor, allowing the rats to crawl over me just so that I can feel something--anything--besides the stinging numbness. I think they have come to like me in these recent months, because they always come back to the same place. But as for me, I long to leave this place. I must be free!
But no, now is not the time for emotions. After seven hundred moons of contemplating, I know how to liberate myself from this terrible prison. I must concentrate. It is hard to stay focused, but the moon is encouraging, and I am not so broken that I cannot still wield magic!
I must concentrate, assembling a ribbon of energy, twisting it into a tight spiral, a tendril to pass through time and space. I still cannot see properly in this realm, but I can feel, through the ribbons, as though they were whiskers. I feel time washing over me like a series of waves, and space... space is like a vast emptiness between the waves. This magic is new to me, and, at first, I am floating without sense of orientation. There is, occasionally, a third sensation, too--it is difficult to describe, but it feels like a delicate membrane, and it reminds me of brushing against a spider’s orb. I know that I must somehow pass through. As an experiment, I press the spiral ribbons gently into the web. It is resisting me, but I can see now, faintly, an image of a mountain forming against the night sky. The mountain is barren and dry: this planet lacks an atmosphere of any kind. This will not do--I need a place that is teeming with life! I ease the ribbons back into the flow, continuing my search. What is this? It looks like a water world. No, there are land masses here. It is easier to move here: the web feels... fatigued. Is this... could this be the fabled world from the histories? Memories that are not my own are flooding back to me--there are many countless creatures here. Some of them have weak wills, which will suit my ambitions. This side of the world faces away from the sun, but it is not entirely dark. There are cities here. As I dive toward the lights, they are blinding. Slowly, the forms of individual buildings begin to resolve, and I can pass through walls with ease to shut out the brilliant lights. The barrier continues to resist me, but it is strained now, and beyond it, I can see the corners of a dark room forming. Yes, it is much clearer now. Against one of the room’s walls, a subtle movement catches my attention--an animal! I can hear its breath and its heartbeat. I cannot believe my luck! Already, I am so close, and this is only my first attempt. I press in closer to see if I can reach out to touch it--
There is a blinding flash, and I cannot tell if it is light or dark. What’s happening? The animal is gone! There is a rushing sound, and now the room is gone too. And then... and then... it is only the moon and stillness. I have failed, and I do not have the strength to try again tonight. But I will try again. I must... be... free.

A brilliant shaft of sunlight stabs through my eyelids, waking me from a deep sleep. I draw in a breath of icy air and immediately start trembling. Why is it so freaking cold? When I reach out to pull the covers up, there aren’t any. My boxers are the only things protecting me from the frigid air. I open my eyes to see if I can find out what the heck is going on, but the sun is so dazzling--I glance downward, squinting against the sky’s gradient from azure to amber. I guess I’m still asleep, because all I see are clouds. Everywhere, clouds! They feel like a fine mist beneath me, but as I try to sit up, my hands begin sinking into them. A sickening emptiness wells up from my stomach as I start tumbling backward over some kind of precipice. I can’t see the ground--just another sheet of clouds rushing toward me!
        In my dreamy stupor, I’m afraid I’m going to smack into the clouds, so I close my eyes and brace myself, but there is no impact--I simply pass through. The sick sensation of falling overwhelms my other senses, but I open my eyes anyway to look down at a brilliant green earth, two thousand feet below, rushing up to meet me. In the past, I’ve always been able to wake myself from dreams like this one by shaking violently. Why isn’t it working? I twist myself around to look upward where I had just come from, and through the impossible clouds that I just fell, I see another ray of light piercing through the tiny hole I had just punctured, and through that, something even more impossible: a blue comet hurtling toward me! No, that’s not right--there’s something strange about this dream--light just doesn’t seem to work properly. Colors are too vivid, and details are difficult to resolve. Squinting to get a better look, I realize that the thing hurtling toward me isn't a comet at all. And it isn't blue, exactly; it is a slurry of colors, and it’s moving faster than anything I’ve ever seen! The emptiness in my stomach finally subsides, and now it’s just the cold wind ripping against my skin, and the noise, and then yet another impossible thing: it rushes past me and unfolds beneath me into an explosion of surreal watercolors: a powder blue pegasus opening its wings. Its rainbow mane and tail flicker in the wind, and it calls out to me in a high voice, raspy, vaguely feminine.
"Grab onto my neck and don't let go!"
Is that really what she said? I can barely hear her against the wind, but her intent seems clear--she has matched my speed perfectly. It is the easiest thing in the world to simply reach out, wrap my arms around her, and take hold.
I feel a sharp tugging on my arms as she whirls around beneath me, and then the crushing force of my own weight against her as she attempts to pull us up and out of the dive. For the moments that we are welded together, I am keenly aware of her body: velvety-soft, powder-blue fur transitions to feathers along a pair of wings sprouting from her back, which are braced against me in a shallow “V.” The muscles beneath them are like iron, but the wings--they’re so impossibly small, they cannot keep us aloft, together, like this. We’ve slowed, but it’s terribly awkward--she’s not even as big as I am, and she can’t pull out of the dive! She can’t save us! The ground is getting closer, and I feel sick again. I don’t want to kill her. I have to let go! I feel my grip loosening. I have to let go, even if it means I’m going to... it’s okay, it’s just a dream...
"Don’t you dare let go!" She shouts above the roar of the wind. "Hold on tight, and brace yourself for impact!"
Impact? What is she thinking!? Squinting against the onrush of wind, I glance over her shoulder just in time to see, in order: the ground, a wood, a lake--a lake!

Good going, Dashie. Why do you always push yourself? What were you thinking?! This thing is friggin’ heavy! And there’s no one out here to see you. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I sure hope this monkey on my back doesn’t do anything stupid. For a moment back there, I thought it was going to bail. There’s no time left for those kinds of mistakes--that would change our descent angle, killing us both!
Here it comes. When we slam into the lake, I’m prepared. I’ve done this before--the sting of the impact, the water in my eyes and nose--it’s all familiar to me. Easier than any of the countless solid objects I’ve crashed into.
The impact is brutal, and it costs me my passenger, and I know my work isn’t done yet. I circle to locate him and start kicking hard, pushing up underneath of his body. As I’m working my way toward the shore, it’s tricky to keep his shifting weight balanced on the edge of my muzzle so that he doesn’t go floating off to one side, or back down under the water. I can’t tell if he’s awake, and I don’t want him to drown.
I roll him up onto the muddy beach and start laughing. Or maybe I’m hyperventilating--I can’t tell if it’s exhaustion or euphoria. Maybe both. I’ve cheated death again, and I’ve saved somepony’s life--well, some thing’s life. I wonder if there’s a medal for that, even though he’s not a pony. If there isn’t, there should be. I can’t believe he was going to let go!
“That... was... amazing! I saw something fall off of my roof in front of my window. I dived for you. You grabbed on. And then, you were like, ‘I’m lettin’ go,’ and I was all, ‘don’t even think about it!' And then--"
Mid-sentence, I realize that I am so wrapped up in the adventure that I’ve completely forgotten that this thing isn’t a pony. But now that we’re both on solid ground and we’re not falling or drowning, I have a chance to seriously study his form. At least, I think it’s a “he.” And not only is he not a pony, but he definitely isn’t from Ponyville. Two eyes: kinda small. Two ears: kinda round. Legs: only two of them? And a pair of arms--he looks a bit like a gorilla, only with much less hair. I remember back to my days as a filly, from the pony tales my parents used to read, and it finally occurs to me what I might be staring at. “Are you... are you a human?"
He nods, shivering, and croaks out a weak “Yes.”
As he says this, I think humans sound a bit like frogs. And he’s not covered in metal, like in the old pony tales. And he doesn’t look all that scary, which also doesn’t quite fit with the old pony tales. In fact, he really doesn’t look good at all, half covered with mud. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could take him in a fight. And it would serve him right for falling through my front porch. I’m going to have to repair it when I could instead be spending that time soaking up the last rays of summer! If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he is a dirty human, and just like in the pony tales, trouble is sure to follow.
"Are you stupid or something? Don’t you know only a pegasus can walk on clouds? How in Equestria did you get up there? "
There’s a long pause, and I think he might be sick. Finally, he asks, “Who... are you?
"The name's Rainbow Dash! And I just saved your life!" I am proud when I say it, having almost completely forgotten my irritation with him. After all, it’s not every day that I save somepony’s life--well, some one’s life--and today is one of those days when I feel like I’ve truly earned my name. Even if he is just a dirty human.
"You’re a pegasus," He says softly, and he sounds disconnected, somehow. And he’s shivering.
"Rain-bow Da-a-sh," I repeat, a bit slower this time, hoping it will sink in.
“I'm Der-ek," he replies, just as slowly. Is he making fun of me? Maybe he really did hit his head. It’s not like we hit the water that hard. I hear a familiar voice shouting from beyond a low ridge.
"Over there, Applejack, by the water!” That’s definitely Twilight Sparkle. She must have seen our splashdown--I can’t wait to ask her!
"I think I see 'em,” another voice replies with a slight drawl, and instantly, I recognize that it’s Applejack. Oh, I really hope she saw me, too!
“Yup, that's Rainbow Dash a’right. An' she's got somepony with 'er."
"Did you see us?" I shout over to her.  I must surely have been beaming when I asked. “Wasn't it awesome?!  What do you suppose he weighs? I bet I just smashed the old record for controlled splashdown with a passenger!”
"Well I’m not sure I’d call that a controlled splashdown," says Twilight. “If the lake had been a little further away--”
“Are you kidding me? I just saved his life! I had the situation totally under control.” I glance back and notice that Derek’s still shivering from the cold, and up until that moment it hadn’t occurred to me that he wasn’t covered in fur, and he didn’t have much clothing, and now, what little covering he had was soaking wet. It was late fall, and the sun had barely cleared the horizon--even I was shivering a little. I look up to Twilight, and I can’t decide what I want to say. She looks just as stunned as I am, apparently having now realized that this is, in fact, a human, on the ground, right in front of us.

“No, Angel, you can’t pull the carrots up yet--I want them to grow larger so that they’ll feed you all winter long.” He doesn’t want to hear this, of course. He lets his breath go in a huff and starts tapping his paw against the ground, arms folded.
I can’t help but smile. Even when he’s irritated, he’s just so adorable. “Oh, alright, you can have one carrot, but no more. This is your whole breakfast, alright?”
Angel smiles brightly and nuzzles me, tickling my hooves with his ears. I can't help but giggle. Bunny ears are just about the softest things in all of Equestria. I wish I could pet his ears for the rest of the day, but I can tell it’s going to be very warm, and I need to get all the weeds up while the ground is still soft, soaked with dew.
 Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimmer of light. I'm certain it’s Rainbow Dash performing her aerial maneuvers again. When I’m less focused, I’ll sometimes watch her practice. I spent over two hours watching her practice once, when she was training for the Best Young Flyer competition. She is an amazing athlete. I wish I could do even half of the things she was capable of. I take a deep breath and stretch my wings, hovering in place for a moment, just above the ground, letting the little eddies tease out my feathers. The air feels amazing--heavy and cold. Perfect for flight. After I touch down, I stretch my wings out even wider, coming to a full gallop. I kick off hard, flying just above the top of my tree. I know it’s not high, but my exhilaration isn’t diminished in the slightest. I slowly circle my tree, the garden, my front yard. I feel brave. As an experiment, I try tilting up for a somersault. It feels wonderful! At the crest of the somersault, though, my speed isn’t enough to carry me through the loop. I stall, upside down, and start falling!
“Oh no! Oh my goodness!”
Angel is below me, waving his arms, running back and forth like a mad rabbit. I can’t get enough speed to get out of the stall--the best I can do is tuck at the last moment and try to land on my side. It works, sort of. But it also hurts. A lot. The impact knocks the wind out of me, and my right wing aches where I landed on it. Unlike my pride, the wing is not broken--just a lot of ruffled feathers, bent up at ridiculous angles.
“Oh, it’s no use, Angel. I’ll never be able to fly like her.” I feel my eyes welling up. I’m such a disgrace! Why couldn’t I have just been born an Earth pony?
Angel hops up on top of me, still chittering and waving his arms. Is he mad because I’ve taken an unnecessary risk? Why does he get to decide what I can and can’t do? I’ll fly when and how I please! I take a deep breath and let it go to temper my anger, my frustration, and then I force a smile and speak softly to him.
“I’ll be fine, Angel, don’t you worry about me.”
Angel smacks his forehead with his paw and slides it down his face. He starts stomping up and down on my belly, gesticulating wildly in the air.
“Ouch! Angel, you’re hurting me! What’s gotten into you?”
He points straight up several times and resumes his angry chittering.
When I look up, Rainbow Dash is falling. Not flying, falling. And it looks like she’s carrying something on her back. She’s coming down at a very steep angle. It looks like she’s aiming for the lake, but is she going to make it? The splashdown is so loud, I can hear it even from half a mile away.
“Oh no! Rainbow Dash!” I nudge Angel off and head away at a full gallop, calling back, “Angel, stay here until I get back.”

Twilight and Rainbow Dash are huddling together. I approach quietly, hoping to avoid notice, but Rainbow Dash looks up and spots me.
“Fluttershy, you’ve got to help us!” she says with exasperation.
“What’s the matter, Rainbow Dash, are you alright?” I quicken my pace, coming up to join them. "Are you hurt? May I have a look at your--"
"I'm fine," she says curtly, slicking her mane back with a hoof, flinging droplets of water to the ground. "But I’m glad you’re here. We need an expert who deals in sick and injured animals.”
“Sick and injured a--” I draw in a sharp and very disorienting breath. “Oh no! Oh my gosh! Is that a...” Even before I finish asking the question, I already know the answer. I remember the stories as a filly. And now I don’t want to get involved, because in the stories, something bad always happens whenever humans are near. I take a step back and spread my wings, preparing to take flight, but then I notice that the human is soaking wet and barely covered! He must be freezing out here, and I can’t just let him suffer. I’ve got to do something! But what if he hurts me? What I wouldn’t give for a blanket right now! I could run back to my house, get a blanket, bring it back, and throw it over him. It’ll only take a moment. The human will be fine. Just fine. But he’s... he’s shivering so badly! Come on, Fluttershy, get it together! He might die! You have to help him!
I stumbled--for that moment of indecision, my hooves were paralyzed by fear--but there is a helpless animal in front of me, and I must do something. He looks wild with mud covering half of his body, and he’s trembling as I approach. Is it from fear, or from the cold? Or both? He could lash out if I accidentally startle him. I steady myself and put on my best smile, drawing from experience with creatures in the forest: I’ve never been able to build trust with fear. I stretch my wing out as far as it will go--I can’t hide my own trembling, but I’m hoping maybe he won’t notice. I rest my wing over him gently, and within seconds I feel the water soaking through my wing. He’s ice-cold to the touch, and the mud is disgusting, and it's all I can do not to pull away. But after a moment, he finally stops shivering, and I know that I’ve helped, at least in some small way.
"Princess Celestia must know about this right away,” Twilight says. “Humans haven’t been spotted in Equestria for generations. Spike! SPIKE!”
"I’m coming already!" replies the young dragon, bounding up and over the ridge. “Jeez, Twilight, where’s the fire?”
“Spike, I need you to head back to the library right away and send a message to the princess. Tell her it’s an emergency! Tell her that a human is here in Ponyville. Tell her that we need her help!"
“Aye-aye!” he says, turning back in the direction he came, tail swinging behind him.
Beneath my wing, I feel Derek stirring. “Was tha.. a drag? Dragon?” he asks. A second later, he goes limp and passes out. I press my ear to his chest. His breath is shallow, and if he has a pulse, I can’t feel it. I try shaking him gently to see if he’ll wake up, but he won’t respond.
“Fluttershy, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Twilight asks nervously.
“He’s freezing to death!” I close my eyes and compose myself. “Do you really want to be responsible for killing him?” I know nothing about humans except what’s in the old pony tales--but I’ve seen these symptoms before, last winter, in fact, when Angel tried to fish my scarf out of this very lake. However scary the human may be, I will not let him die.
Twilight sighs and says, “You’re right.” She furrows her brow in thought for a moment, then asks, “Applejack, I saw your wagon just over the ridge on the way to the shoreline. Is the wagon empty?”
“Yep,” she nods. “I haven’t started deliveries yet this mornin’.”
“Good, please bring it here, and help me load the human into it.”
A significant amount of jockeying is required before we can get him onto the wagon, and his feet are dragging along the ground as we cart him back to my doorstep. He’s barely breathing. I know we’re running out of time.
“Help me get him upstairs, Applejack,” I say. She nods, and together, we are able to awkwardly drag him into the bathtub. I know only minutes have passed, but it feels like hours as I’m fumbling with the spigot to get the hot water to pour. He starts shivering again, and I open the valve as far as it will go. I press my ear against his chest again. I can hear a heartbeat now, and he’s breathing steadily. I’ve done what I can.

I’m inside of a hollowed-out tree. My vision is fuzzy, and my brain doesn’t seem to be working right. Am I trapped inside of this tree? No, there’s a door just over there, and it doesn’t appear to be blocked. At least, not as far as I can tell. This seems like a nice place, actually: there are round windows decorated with pretty curtains, and the hardwood floors are polished and smooth--it’s a lovely tree, and whoever lives here obviously knows how to take care of it. And yet something about it doesn’t quite seem right at all. The room has some... peculiar features that I hadn’t noticed right away: from the walls and ceiling hang many birds nests with birds in them, and a pair of squirrels darts from one room into the next along a trail of tiny stairways, and ferrets are running across the floor. Beyond an archway, I occasionally see a white rabbit peeking around the corner.
Realizing how absurd this is, I expect to wake up any moment. I’ve never felt pain like this in a dream before--my entire left side is aching. I was covered in mud a moment ago, next to a lake. But now, I’m sitting in a comfortable wingback chair, wrapped in a fleece blanket. I’m warm. I’m clean, too, and dry. Why am I clean and dry? Wasn’t I just on the muddy shores of a lake? And why am I naked? What happened to my shorts? I think I must have fallen--that would explain the pain--but I’m having trouble remembering things in order. At least my long-term memory seems intact: my name is Derek Wells. I’m a Senior at Lincoln High School. I’m 18 years old. I’m absolutely certain that I went to sleep in my own bed last night, after a long night of homework.
There’s a lull in my internal monologue, at which point I become dimly aware of several hushed voices, whispering anxiously, all around me.
“You shore? Only take a second.”
        “No, Applejack, you’re not going to tie him up!”
        “A’right, but one false move, and he’s hogtied faster’n’ you can say ‘piglet.’”
        Was that a threat? They must think I’m still asleep. I must have stirred, because one of them is now speaking to me directly.
"Oh... thank... goodness you're awake!"
The voice is from behind me, and it makes me jump six inches, despite it being low and pleasing. I turn to look toward the nice girl, and I instead see vague features, vivid colors. It’s a... a yellow... pegasus? No, that can’t be right. I shake my head--eyes must still be blurry. I blink a few times. Let’s try that again. To my left is... still a yellow pegasus. She’s looking at me through one enormous, aquamarine-blue eye. She’s smiling brightly at me. Her other eye is mostly hidden by a beautiful, silken mane of pink, flowing over a body covered with pastel, yellow fur. The colors are rich--hyper-real--and beautiful. Even more colorful tattoos mark her flank, and my thoughts and vision sharpen simultaneously. "Are those butterflies?”
"Oh, you mean my cutie mark? Do you like the butterflies? We were so worried when you passed out,” she says.
Her mouth is moving. The sounds are definitely coming from her. But I don’t comprehend the meaning of the words right away--all I hear is a voice, soft, cheerful, and at the same time hypnotic and comforting. She seems so happy. I can’t possibly be in danger anymore, can I? Slowly, I begin recalling events in order now: homework last night, clouds this morning. Falling... sort of. A blue pegasus. A lake. I’m inside a tree. And finally, some of her gentle reassuring breaks through the noise in my head.
“You’re safe here. I promise no one here is going to hurt you. My name is Fluttershy. What’s your name?”
She’s waiting patiently for me to answer. “I... wait, your name is Fluttershy?”
“Yes, that’s right. I'm Fluttershy. What’s your name? Um, that is, if you don’t mind telling us.”
“He said his name was Derek,” said another voice, raspy and feminine. Right. That’s Rainbow Dash. How do I know this? Because she told me after she rolled me up out of the lake. After saving my life. I glance over to the blue pegasus that saved me. Rainbow Dash. What kind of a name is that? The kind you’d hear in a dream, of course. It certainly fits her--a blanket is covering most of her, but I can see a volcano of rainbow colors underneath. Her mane and tail are still a bit damp and matted. She glances over at me briefly before turning away, and I see a flash of color in her eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that color before--they remind me of fuchsia blossoms. From the light in the windows behind her, I can tell that the sun is high overhead.
        Fluttershy speaks again. “Would you like some water, Derek?" She glances next to me, and I notice a glass of water sitting on the table beside us. I reach for it and drink most of it down in several rapid gulps. The pain in my head has localized to the left side, and my vision is clearer now, I think. It’s so hard to tell--light still just doesn’t seem to work right in this place.
I stand up slowly and--okay, still naked--very funny. Thank God for this fleece! My head is swimming, and I’m happy to wake up from this dream any moment. But something feels wrong. Something feels so... very... wrong. I’m not asleep. I’m awake. And I’m not dreaming. Maybe my eyes must have been affected by the impact--that would certainly explain the bright colors everywhere. Maybe everything will be alright once I get outside. I don’t think i want to be in here anymore. I think I need to get outside right now.
“I think... there’s something wrong with my eyes,” I say, and my arms are shaking as I pull the corners of the blanket around me more tightly. “You all look so... strange... to me.”
“Something’s wrong with your vision? Can you see anything at all?” It’s another voice--one that I sort of recognize. “Tell me how many lights you see.” She seems genuinely concerned. I turn to look in the direction of her voice, and I see a purple unicorn. There’s a single horn glowing softly on her forehead, and a shock of pink and purple hair splits an otherwise dark blue mane and tail. A red star adorns her flank. An orange pony with a blonde mane is sitting next to her, and she’s wearing... a cowboy hat? Her flank is marked with a bright red apple.
I feel queasy, like I’m going to vomit, and the urge to get outside is now both instinctual and overwhelming. I stand up and start staggering toward the door, and it feels like I’m moving in slow motion. I think I am moving in slow motion.
“Derek, please wait!” Fluttershy calls out softly. "Don't leave yet."
I turn back to her, and she looks afraid. But I am afraid. Not of her, specifically, but of all of this! From the corner of my vision, the orange pony lifts a coil of rope over her head and starts looping it, apparently ready to make good on her earlier promise. No, I can't stay! I can’t be trapped here! I’m almost within reach of the door! So close! If I can just keep moving--
The unicorn says, “Wait, Applejack, no need for that just yet. Let me get this.”
I’m almost within reach of the doorknob when something very strange happens: I literally begin floating off of the ground, and even though I’m scrambling for the door, I can’t gain any traction in midair.
When I cry out, there’s an edge of panic in my voice, my mind clumsily drawing up a name connected with the only brief moment of peace since my waking up to this horrible nightmare. “F-Fluttershy, help!”
Her response is immediate concern: “Twilight, what are you doing to him?!”
“Relax, Fluttershy,” she says calmly, “I promise I’m not hurting him.” Her horn is still glowing when she walks up to me--she stares appraisingly, and her voice is steady and soft, and deadly serious. “When I let go of this spell, you’re not going to run. You’re not going to scream. You’re not going to make any sudden moves, or else Applejack here is going to have you trussed up like an angry goat. Will you agree to that?” She smiles hopefully.
I glance over to Fluttershy, who’s biting her lower lip, nodding fervently at me. All of them are staring, and all of them are holding their breath. Eventually, I nod in resignation. I let out my own deep breath, exhausted and utterly bewildered.
The unicorn’s expression instantly softens, and her smile brightens. I’m still floating when she stands on her hind legs, gently presses a hoof to my shoulder and asks, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
When i open my mouth to speak, my voice fails completely. I’m sure her touch was intended to be comforting, but instead it only amplifies my building anxiety. The question registers slowly: did she hurt me? Well, no, not technically. I shake my head in reply.
“Good! You don’t hurt us, and we won’t hurt you, heehee!" she laughs nervously before continuing. "I didn’t have much time to react, and levitation was the best spell I could think of. Fluttershy was telling the truth--you’re safe here as long as you don’t try anything stupid. And that includes running off--I don’t know how others in town would react to seeing a human here in Equestria. It might be dangerous for you. Our knowledge of humans is... sketchy."
I nodded.
"Okay, so, I guess introductions are in order. My name is Twilight Sparkle. And this is Applejack.” She gestures to the orange mare with the blonde mane, who’s now standing next to her, next to me.
Applejack smiles up at me, but it’s a cautious smile. “Hey there. No hard feelin’s, right?”
I shake my head. “N-no, no hard feelings.” My head is still whirling, but I can’t tell if it’s from slamming into the lake or--”Um, Twilight?”
“Yes?”
“Could you... maybe--”
“Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry!”
The glow from Twilight’s horn fades, and I slowly drift back to the floor. I’m thankful to be on solid ground, but my knees are wobbly, and I’m still having trouble with balance.
“Maybe you should sit down again, Derek,” Fluttershy offers, nudging the chair under me.
“Oh, thank you, Fluttershy.” My mind is finally working at full speed again, and the questions start coming in rapid fire now. I want to ask about Twilight Sparkle's glowing horn, and the levitation, but those questions seem trivial compared to what I really need to know. “What happened? Where am I? What am I doing here?” I barely manage to keep my voice from cracking. Keep it together. Can’t show weakness. They seem nice enough, though.
        “Like I said, you’re in Equestria,” says Twilight, sitting on her flank. “And, honestly, we don’t know what happened, and we’re not sure why you’re here. Maybe you can help us figure that out. What’s the last thing you remember, before Rainbow Dash saved you?”
        I shake my head, trying to recall--the details were already fading. “I don’t remember much. Last night, I went to sleep in my bedroom just like any other night. On Earth...” I pause, looking around to see if anyone is confused. They all nod, though perhaps with looks of slight incredulity.
“Yes, we know about Earth,” says Twilight. ”There are still a few books in my library that mention Earth and its inhabitants, but many of those stories have been written off as fiction. Until you showed up, humans were the stuff of pony tales. Some of the older archives--well let’s not worry about that just now, because I’ve interrupted you! Please go on. You were asleep in your bed on Earth, and then what happened?”
“And then I woke up... on a cloud.” As I say this, it sounds totally absurd. How could I have just slept through that? And how could I wake up on a cloud? Clouds aren’t solid. Although, I guess that was consistent with my experience, since I passed right through it.
        “You must have been just above my roof, actually,” Rainbow Dash corrects. “And then I saw you fall from the roof right through my front porch.”
        I think silently for a moment. “Why did you save me, anyway?”
“I dunno, I guess I just... reacted.” Her enormous eyes are avoiding mine, and I can tell she’s not being entirely honest. My train of thought is derailed by Twilight’s further inquiry.
“And that’s all you can remember?”
I nod, looking down. “I’m sorry. I really don’t remember any more than that. I think I must have been asleep when I...” I can’t bring myself to utter the words. I really am on another planet. The realization leaves me silent, and my heart starts beating faster, my breath growing shallow.
“It’s alright,” she says with a sympathetic frown. “Look, don’t panic just yet, okay? I’m certain that Princess Celestia will help us get to the bottom of this, and we’ll maybe even find a way to get you back home.”
When she says this, I don’t understand how a princess is going to get me out of this fix, but Twilight Sparkle’s confidence is encouraging. In fact, in that moment I was impressed by all of them--and the fact that they were sentient ponies somehow took back stage to my appreciation for their quick reactions and reasoning, without which I probably wouldn’t be alive. I was on another planet with little ponies that talk. Talking, intelligent ponies who saved my life. And they want to help me get home.

        “Mmmmmm, this croissant sandwich is amazing!” I say through a mouthful of croissant sandwich. It has all the best qualities of both a croissant and a sandwich. I think all sandwiches should be prepared on croissants from now on. In fact, I’m not making finger sandwiches with plain old bread at my parties anymore, I’m making croissant--”
        “Yes, but how am I supposed to enjoy it when I don’t know where our friends are?” Rarity’s sandwich is untouched, and she sighs. “They have never stood us up for brunch like this before. What if something bad has happened to them?” She raises her voice to shout, “Check please!”
        “Are you gonna eat that?” I ask.
        Rarity rolls her eyes. Her horn glows, and she levitates her sandwich over to my plate just as the waiter brings over the bill. I finish it in one bite, apparently offending Rarity.
        “Manners, Pinkie,” she tsks, leaving eight bits on the table.
I wonder why they’re called bits. What are they bits of? A bite to eat, I guess.
        “Come on, Pinkie Pie, let’s go find them. I suggest we stop by the library first.

        Just as I reach up to open the door, Spike comes barreling out! “Ooof! Hey, where are you going in such a hurry? Putting out a fire somewhere? Or starting one? Heeheehee snrrrkt!”
        “Oops! Sorry about that, Pinkie Pie,” Spike replies. “I really need to get this letter from Princess Celestia to Twilight! She wants to ren... rendez...”
        “Rendezvous?” Rarity suggests.
        “Bless you!” Spike says.
        “No, rendezvous. it means she wants to meet with Twilight,” says Rarity, smiling at him.
        “Oh!” Spike blushes, looks down, and shuffles his feet. “Well, she wants to meet Twilight later tonight in the library. This letter says something about a book here in Ponyville that’s not in the Canterlot archives.”
        “The princess is coming here? Oooh, I’m baking a cake! I need balloons! We should stop at my house and pick up some balloons!”
        “Perhaps we’d best worry about that later?” Rarity suggests.
        “Aw, you’re no fun!”
        

        A human! In Equestria! I’ve been stood up for a human? Or perhaps this is one of Pinkie’s cruel tricks. My temper flares as I glower, first at Pinkie, then at Twilight, standing in Fluttershy’s doorway, and in that moment I just know that she must have something to do with this. “Twilight Sparkle!” I say, perhaps more forcefully than I intended, “Did you bring a human to Ponyville?”
        Spike looks down sheepishly and says, “Oops, did I forget to mention that part?”
"Spike, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, I'd like you to meet Derek," she replies. "And I'm flattered that you think my magic is strong enough to open interplanetary gateways, but I honestly had nothing to do with this."
Pinkie Pie bounces up and down. "Pleased to meet you, Derek! I’ve never met a real live space alien before! Wanna be friends? Puh-leeeease?"
"Pleased to meet you, Pinkie Pie,” he chuckles. “And, I need all the friends I can get.”
“That’s super-terrific!” she squeals. “I’ll throw you a huge, space-alien party!”
“Here, Twilight,” Spike says, handing her a letter, “This came for you just a little while ago.”
I notice Derek’s smile fade when Spike begins talking--he appears to be somewhat alarmed. I wonder, has he never seen a dragon before?
        Spike offers his hand and says “Nice to meetchya!” but Derek is understandably hesitant. I’m not sure I’d want to shake hands with Spike, either, at the moment--he looks like he’s been digging in the dirt again. Eventually, Derek offers a tentative hand, and Spike shakes it energetically.
Behind him, Twilight begins unrolling Celestia’s scroll and reads aloud, “Dear Twilight Sparkle, Message understood. Keep Spike nearby. Will reply soon. Celestia.” She rerolls the scroll and scowls. “Well, that’s not very helpful.”
Space alien or no, deserves a proper greeting. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Derek," I say with a modest curtsy. After my bow, I glance up at him, expecting a reply. Instead, he just stands there for a moment, staring at me--this is not altogether uncommon, when others first meet me, though he’s still staring, and it’s getting a bit awkward now. Okay, that’s really quite enough! Be calm, Rarity. I clear my throat with a very gentle “Ahem.”
"Uh... Oh! The pleasure is mine, my lady.” He bows, almost in time to cover a blush.
I pretend not to notice. “Why, thank you! It’s so delightful whenever I meet somepony who appreciates manners.” And in that moment I become painfully aware of the hideous scraps that are covering him. "Dear boy,” I ask, “What ARE you wearing?  It's ghastly!"
Fluttershy's ears droop, and I know I’ve said something to hurt her feelings. Derek is quick to defend her. "My clothes were ah... soaked... so Fluttershy was kind enough to lend me this lovely blanket."
I’m concerned that my smile at Fluttershy appears insincere, but I can’t worry about that now. I’ve got a fashion crisis to deal with! I turn back to Derek and shake my head, offering my sweetest voice. "Oh, well, that’s very kind of her, but it simply won't do! I insist you come to my boutique straight away, so we can get you into some proper clothes."
"That's very kind of you, Miss Rarity, but I don’t have any money. And I wouldn't want to impose..."

“Hmph! Pinkie Pie and I have had brunch already. You were supposed to be joining us.” My tummy growls just then, perhaps giving away my feigned indignation. I suppose my ambitions will have to be put on hold.
“Oh, sorry about that, Rarity,” Fluttershy says. “I guess we lost track of time. I’ll make some sandwiches for those who haven’t eaten yet. Does that sound alright to you, Derek?”
“That sounds wonderful!” he says.
        I’m not exactly impressed by Derek’s table manners, but then he has come from another world--perhaps he’s starving from the journey. It doesn’t take him long to finish the sandwich. Or the soup. Or the other sandwich.
        "It's okay,” Fluttershy says, “Eat as much as you want, Derek."
He smiles and nods graciously.
After lunch, the others begin recounting how Rainbow Dash’s quick reflexes were responsible for seeing Derek safely to the ground. With attention to the table slowly ebbing, I slink my way toward the serving plate and grab a couple of sandwich halves for myself.
        
I hardly remember the short walk to my boutique--only that Derek insisted on recovering a tattered pair of shorts from the clothesline in front of Fluttershy’s cottage, and Twilight insisted on keeping the blanket over his head so that Ponyville’s residents wouldn’t recognize him as human. Hmmph! Running shorts! And ratty-looking at that. Even If he only sleeps in these, it is clear to me that this human has no fashion sense. While I’m considering different combinations of styles and colors, we’ve nearly arrived. I settle on the color palette just as we approach the door. Yes, I think... yes... red and blue...
"It's beautiful," Derek says, and I am flattered as the image begins to form in my mind. Oh, he means my home! Although I love my home, too, it isn’t something I ever think about. I spend most of my waking hours here, so its intrinsic beauty is never something that’s at the forefront of my mind. His stopping before the door gives me cause to appreciate it again, however. It is a rather elaborate, carousel-style building with ornate carvings everywhere. The round windows are my favorite feature--they’re decorated with gold-trimmed curtains, and they remind me somewhat of jeweled eggs.
He breaks the silence, asking, “You live here?”
"Live and work. And thank you, dear," I say, ushering them inside. I can hardly wait to get started! I set to work the moment we’re inside, walking past partially-outfitted models, using magic to lift a tailor's tape. Already, I know that this will be one of my finest creations! First order of business is to get that ridiculous blanket out of the way (mustn’t offend Fluttershy!)
“Let’s get some measurements, shall we?” When I walk over to him and try to lift the blanket away, I see a great scar along his right arm. I can’t hide my reaction--a subtle gasp--and I’m instantly loathing myself for my lack of professionalism. I’m not even sure anyone else heard me gasp. The effect is immediate, though: he throws the blanket back over his arm, drawing away sharply, shouting, "No!"
It's okay, Derek, she IS a professional seamstress,” Twilight reassures. “And I promise we won't watch, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Unfortunately, Twilight didn’t see the scar, and her comment only deepens the crimson hue radiating through my countenance, reflected back at me from about a dozen different mirrors. For that brief moment, I wished my studio had fewer of them. I feel terrible about my mistake--most of my clients are anything but shy. In fact, I rather wished more of them would keep their clothes on! At any rate, in my eagerness to get started, I have not only violated my own high standards, I have violated his trust, and that is simply unacceptable. “Derek, I’m so very sorry!” He clearly doesn’t want anyone seeing that scar--covering for his violent reaction seems like the only sensible thing to do. “You must understand, many of my clients are far too eager to throw their clothes off the moment they walk through my doors, but I understand completely if you’re... a little shy. I’ll just work around the blanket, alright?” For a moment, our eyes lock. I offer up my best covershot-ready smile, and he slowly nods.
"What will you make for him?" asks Fluttershy, mercifully breaking the tension.
        "Hmm, well since he is, as you all claim, a trans-dimensional tourist, I believe the appropriate dress is.... hmmm....” the solution strikes me like lightning. I know instantly what to do! My best pair of reading glasses helps me to refocus. I collect bolts of fabric, scissors, needles, thread, pins, scissors again!
I have no idea how much time has passed. I have been focused on my work, but the focus is starting to ebb, and Pinkie, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash are talking quietly together, while Twilight and Fluttershy keep asking Derek all of these annoying and mundane questions about Earth.
        “Well, let’s see. According to our calendar, it’s the year 2012. Our civilization is...” he hesitates, “different from yours. Maybe a bit more technologically advanced, based on what I’ve seen.”
        Pinkie Pie snickers and says, “You should tell him about your laboratory,Twilight.”
        “Laboratory?” Derek asks.
        Her eyes go wide for a moment, and she glares at Pinkie. “Never mind that! Go on.”
“Well, the one thing that never seems to advance is how people on Earth treat each other. You’ve all shown me such kindness--If any of you are a measure for the rest of Equestria, I’d say Earth has quite a bit of catching up to do.”
An awkward silence passes. He continues on, answering whatever questions they might have about his home world. Twilight seems especially interested in physics and astronomy--how dull! What I wouldn’t have given to see some fashion journals from his world! That would certainly make this process easier.
“Do you still enslave and ride around on ponies?” Fluttershy asks.
How inappropriate! Why would she ask such a thing?
“Well,” he begins, but hesitates, blushing, and drawing inward, throwing off one of my measurements over the sleeve length. Damn those mirrors! They’re positively radiating his blush back at him.
“I mean, that’s what they did...” Fluttershy’s voice trails off and becomes almost inaudible, “... in the... stories.”
“Well, most people have cars--uh, that’s a kind of mechanical transportation. But some people still... keep horses--they’re like very big ponies--as pets.”
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” says Fluttershy. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
        “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I guess it was a fair question. Hey, speaking of fair, what will happen to me if...” his voice trails off.
“Go ahead, Derek,” Fluttershy encourages, smiling earnestly. “You can ask us anything you’d like.”
“What will happen if I’m stuck here? I mean, I guess I don’t know where I stand. Am I going to end up as someone’s pet here?” He’s looking nervously between Twilight and Fluttershy.
“Well,” Twilight says, “I guess that depends on what Princess Celestia recommends. But don’t worry about that now. I’m sure she’ll find a way to get you home. She’ll probably want us to bring you to her castle in Canterlot, in the meantime.”
        Ah, Canterlot! Most of my clients would be thrilled if I set up shop closer to their homes, but I can’t imagine leaving my friends. Just a few more stitches...
“You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you like in the meantime,” says Fluttershy, smiling brightly.
“Uh... thanks,” he says.

"Voila!" My creation is complete! And it is magnificent! A white button-down shirt with two flowers of red and blue wrapping around the front and back, khaki shorts, and a new pair of knit boxers, in green, to replace those awful rags he arrived in.  "Ah, and we mustn't forget accessories." I glance up to one of the highest shelves and retrieve a tan hat, sunglasses, and a pair of brown flip-clops--oh dear, these things won’t fit him--he doesn’t have hooves! Well, perhaps I’ll figure out something later. The fit for everything else is easily some of my best work, despite even taking measurements through a blanket. Inspiration does bring out the best in me. Yes, Rarity, you’ve done it again!
Derek’s smile is genuine. "Rarity, how can I ever pay you back! They're wonderful!" When he throws his arms around me and hugs, I’m startled out of my wits, but only for a moment.
        I flash a coy smile. "You can pay me back by letting me dress you for a formal occasion. If you’re ever invited to the Grand Galloping Gala, do come back to see me, and I promise you’ll ALL be wearing tails."

        I can feel the moon once again, and I have nearly recovered all of my strength. Last night’s attempt was not a failure, I decide. Instead, it was a valuable learning experience! I have successfully learned how to navigate in space. The remaining tasks are to navigate time with more control, and to create a stronger link between the two worlds so that I can pass objects between them. I was too eager last time--too impatient. I must content myself to work more slowly and tackle these tasks independently. I can see the moon now--it is time to begin.
        Once again, I channel energy into a pair of ribbons, winding them together in a tighter helix. Yes, this one feels much stronger than before! Still, this evening I will endeavor only to learn how to navigate time. I must be patient.
The helix is complete--it even looks like a proper horn, which once sat upon my head--the waves of time pass easily before me, and I think I must be looking backward into the past. How far? I am not sure. I need a reference! Twisting around through space, I once again brush up against the barrier of time--this wave is more difficult to pass through than the one before. But I have more control now, and the space beyond is beginning to take form. I can navigate the space now, and I am outside a village. I see a row of dimly lit shops--one of them has a horseshoe over its entrance. From another hangs a leather boot and a hat. What is this? This one looks promising--a clock face is painted above the door. Even though the door is closed, I can easily pass through into the room beyond. I am not alone here--there is a man standing behind a bench, hunched over something. I think it is made of gold!
I glide closer to the golden object. The man stops what he is doing and looks up. He can see me! He is afraid! He drops the object, and it falls to the bench, splitting open. He runs upstairs and out of the room, and I am alone with the glittering object. It is a pocket watch. I read the inscription on the back, and I am giddy in my success! I must take this prize! This will be my trophy, my inspiration to reclaim my freedom! I concentrate harder, pressing the ribbons against the barrier. It snaps open, and I have passed through! With my magic, I reach out and maneuver the locket through the rift in time, in space, and I levitate it back toward me. I can see Equestria below me! The locket is here in Equestria! I’ve done it!
Wait! Something is wrong! There is a great rushing wind, and I cannot hold the locket against the wind. I can’t hold it! The wind carries it away, and it is gone.
Darkness. Stillness. I have failed again, and the fatigue is overwhelming. Where my eyes would be, I feel a burning sting, and I know that tears would be falling if I had any to give. I was so close! But I have learned. I have made progress. So close! There is work to be done. I mustn’t allow anyone to interfere. I must be free.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when I notice Rainbow Dash gazing through one of the boutique’s windows at something in the distance.
“That’s strange,” she says. "There weren't supposed to be any storms scheduled for today's forecast." She’s watching a storm cloud rolling in opposite the sun.
        A second later, Spike coughs, and a scroll appears in a puff of smoke, unrolling right in front of my nose!

"Dear Twilight Sparkle," I read aloud, "The approaching storm was not authorized by Cloudsdale, and it is therefore not safe. Forgive my delayed reply--I wanted to do some additional research, but our library does not contain the volume I was looking for. I need you to locate Weather or Not by M. S. Starfall, and I believe it is part of your collection in Ponyville. The storm and the presence of the human may be related, and the book will have the answers. Get to the library if you can do so safely, and I'll meet you there as soon as I am able. Keep the human safe, and do not delay! The storm appears to be moving very quickly.

Urgently,

Princess Celestia"

From the corner of my vision, I see Pinkie Pie twitch suddenly, and she squeals.  A moment later, a piercing flash casts the interior of the boutique in a ghostly white, and a slow, rolling thunder sends tremors through the walls.
"Oh my!" Fluttershy cries out timidly.
"That storm doesn't sound too good at all," says Applejack. “We'd better get a move on."
"You all go on without me," says Rarity. "I've got plenty of work to do if Derek is to have more clothes for the next couple of days. Come back tomorrow morning, and I’ll have another outfit ready. Probably rain gear, at this rate."
"Okay, thanks so much, Rarity," I say, "I’m sure Derek appreciates it. We’ll see you tomorrow.” I turned to face him. “Shall we go?"
        “Rarity, wait, he says. “I want to pay you back. If there’s anything I can do to help--”
        “Grand Galloping Gala,” she says with a dismissing wave. “Formal!” she repeats, focusing again on her sewing machine with what appeared to be a yellow, water-repellant material.
I’m about to insist that Derek cover up with the blanket again, but I don’t have to, because the weather conditions are deteriorating rapidly, he’s using the blanket as a makeshift umbrella, and the streets are completely deserted. It’s only sprinkling, but the storm cloud is so dark, I’m afraid it will begin pouring any second. As if driven by my very fears of a rapid turn, the wind suddenly blasts through the center of Ponyville, drawing a curtain of rain in around us. The gust lifts Applejack’s hat over her head, and Derek quickly grabs onto it before the gust can carry it away.
“Why thank you, pardner,” she says.
He smiles, hunkering beneath the now-soaked blanket.
Another gust kicks up again, and it’s so strong that Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy are having trouble keeping their wings under control. “Everyone down!” I say.
        The rain pelts my back, soaking through my mane and coat, but the gust quickly dies back. Five, six, seven--good, we’re all here, and we’re able to move again. Well, mostly--with the blanket flapping wildly about, Derek is bracing himself against the wind, and he’s squinting as he comes up next to me.
        “So does the weather always turn this quickly in Equestria?” he shouts against the heavy rain.
        “No!” I shout back.
Just then, something golden and round falls to the path, rolling up to Derek, where it lies open against his toes. He reaches down to pick it up. I just barely have time to glance at the inscription on the back before he pockets it. On the back of it is an etching: “Switzerland 1902.”
“What is that, Derek?” I ask.
        “It’s... a pocket watch,” he replies, “From Earth.” He frowns in concentration, but Pinkie Pie cringes again, and another lightning bolt sparks along a tree nearby, its blue-white arc spiralling down the trunk and traveling a few inches along the ground. Although the tree does not catch fire, it is clearly scorched, and the air is heavy, with an eerie, unnatural odor that accompanies the ionized atmosphere. There Ponyville skyline is all around us, but it’s clear that we still need to get inside, to safety.
        Lightning dances all around us, and it’s all I can do to stay collected--I love watching storms, and this would have been beautiful were we not caught out in the middle of it. Apart from Fluttershy’s periodic squeals of terror, and Pinkie’s tremors, no one speaks for the rest of the walk home. I manage to keep us away from the trees, and close to the low houses, wherever possible. Rarely have I been so happy to see my home.
        I throw open the library door using magic, insisting that everyone else is safe inside before going in myself. It hardly seems necessary, but I flip over the door sign to the side that reads “closed.” I slam the door shut, slumping to the floor. I am tired. I am wet. And I am cold.
“This weather is awful,” I say, shaking the water out of my mane, wiping my hooves on the floor mat. “Would anyone like some hot tea?”
Hands and hooves are up all around, and I instantly have my work cut out for me. They’re all soaking wet, too, and tiny pools of rainwater are collecting on the floor wherever they sit.
“Hoh... kay, LOTS of tea, coming right up.” Just as I started for the kitchen, I thought I caught a glimpse of Spike going over to the fireplace. Good idea--that will help everyone dry faster. I remembered a special tea that Zecora had given me one night to help Spike sleep better, and there’s plenty of it left over. I’d been practicing making water freeze and boil with magic, but I couldn’t do an entire kettle all at once yet--I had to settle for one cup at a time, and by the time I went back into the main room, there was already a crackling fire in the hearth.
“Thanks, Spike, that feels wonderful!” I say. He smiles as I levitate the first cup of tea to him.
        But as I set down the tray with the rest of the tea, Pinkie’s tail does some more weird things again--I swear she’s faking it--until the lightning strikes. When the thunder reports, it’s so loud that Derek throws an arm around the nearest thing to him--which happens to be Fluttershy, who, coincidentally, has done exactly the same thing with her wing. They glance sheepishly at each other and then look down, pulling away.
“Glad to see you two are coping,” I laugh. “Here, I think this will help. Something special to calm the nerves, courtesy of Zecora.” I levitate each of the remaining glasses carefully, so as not to burn anyone.
“I  think we’re all sleepin’ here tonight if this storm don’t let up,” says Applejack, taking the tea thankfully. Outside, the wind was howling over the boughs of the library, making the old timbers creak and groan.
“Oh boy!” says Pinkie Pie. “It’s party time! I’m baking cookies!”
"Can we have dinner first?"
“Great idea! I’ll bake a quiche before the cookies!” Pinkie says.
At some point, Pinkie had carefully set a slice of quiche next to my reading table, but I had only taken a few bites. There’s a plate of chocolate chip cookies being passed around, too, but I didn’t feel like having any cookies. I must have been reading for about half an hour or so, when Derek finally speaks to me.
“Anything useful?” he asks in between bites of cookie.
        “Not yet!” I try to sound cheerful in my reply--I didn’t want to do anything that might upset him more--but my frustration was probably obvious by now.
“Hey, why don’t you give her another look at that gizmo you found outside,” says Applejack.
“What gizmo? Oh, you mean the pocket watch?” Derek says, looking up.
“I was wondering about that,” I say.
“I almost forgot about it,” says Derek. He lifts the gold watch out of his shirt pocket and lays it face open on the table in front of me.
        “It’s beautiful,” I say, levitating it and marveling at the craftsmanship. “And clearly not from Equestria.”
“That’s not the weird part,” says Derek. “Well, not the weirdest, part, anyway.  Look at the date on the back.”
I spin it around and look again at the inscription on the back. “1902,” I say. Then I did the math. “So according to your calendar, that would make it more than a hundred years old.”
        “And there’s hardly a mark on it,” Derek says. “Even if someone took really good care of it--”
        “Gold is a soft metal,” I realize. “You would expect to see some hairline scratches on it. Or at least some tarnishing.”
“Exactly,” he says.
“Which means this really was brought forward in time from the past.”
        “I don’t know how physics works here in Equestria,” he says, “But on Earth, objects don’t time travel like that.”
“It’s not exactly commonplace here, either. Thank you for showing this to me, Derek.” I float the watch back to him, and he stuffs into his shirt pocket. “I’m still not clear how this fits in, but what is clear is that there are supernatural forces at work.” I started to fear for him. For all of us, really. There were strange forces at work, and his presence here wasn’t a good sign. But I decided not to say anything more. I take a deep breath and try to clear away any feelings of anxiety. I looked at my cup of tea, untouched, and sighed. I don’t feel like relaxing. And I definitely won’t be sleeping well tonight.
The storm has finally settled into a steady, pouring rain, and bedtime is approaching. Spike helps me gather every sleeping bag, pillow, cushion, and blanket I own into neat rows front of the fireplace. Applejack offers to tell everyone a story, and even though I feel like we’re a bit old for that (except for Spike), no one objects. It’s fortunate that Applejack opts to sit in a rocking chair, because I’m short by exactly one bedroll. The story is about a little filly who grows up on a farm and dreams of living in the big city. She spends most of her life wishing for a lifestyle that she doesn’t have. And when she finally moves to the city, she isn’t any happier. In the end, she moves back to the farm to be with her family. Her story was probably intended to be a story for little children, but no one silences her.  It sounds familiar to me--a variation on her own biographical snippet that she’s shared with us in the past. It wasn’t unlike my own story. There are still times when I miss Canterlot and want to return, to spend more time with my family, and with Princess Celestia, but I know my place is here in Ponyville, with my friends.
Applejack’s story has worked its magic: the other ponies have already fallen asleep on the pile of cushions and blankets, and I, too, am about to faceplant in a stack of books that I had accumulated. I would have gone up to my bed, but I felt like it would have been rude to do so, so I decide to curl up on the far edge of Spike’s blanket, away from the fire. Spike curls up with me, and I smile, happy that everyone is here together, safe. Princess Celestia will be here in the morning. She’ll invite us back to Canterlot and figure out a way to send Derek home. Everything will work out.
        “Thanks for the story, Applejack,” Derek says.
“Sure thing, hon,” Applejack replies softly. “Guess we should get some shut-eye, ourselves, huh? Sleep tight.” She yawns and slumps back in the rocking chair, pulling her hat down over her eyes.
Derek takes up an empty space remaining between Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. In less than a minute, he’s snoring. Eventually, I too fall asleep to the sound of Spike’s steady breathing, and the last crackling embers of the fire.

“Jeffrey, hurry up!” My little brother is sitting next to me at the table, and he hasn’t finished his mashed potatoes. He just keeps picking at them.
“If he isn’t hungry, he doesn’t have to finish,” says mom. She was always defending him like that. I always had to finish my dinner, even if it was later that evening.
        “Anyway, we’re going to be leaving for the show soon, so get your things together, both of you.” She heads back into the bedroom to finish getting ready to go.
        Jeffrey picks up a fork full of mashed potatoes, and it looks like he’s about to fling it across the room.
        “Oh no ya don’t!” I grab the fork and plate away from him. He silently crinkles his face and starts pounding the table.
        “Ugh! When are you going to grow up?”
        I plunge the dirty dishes into the sink, grab my coat from the closet. When I step out the door, I’m suddenly on the back of a coal-dust colored pegasus. Its form is occluded, wraith-like, and little wisps of black smoke swirl and flow about its skin beneath me. We glide over a darkened meadow on the edge of a forest and touch down in what looks like some kind of arena. Black and purple banners hang from large poles on both sides of the field. Across from me, a knight pulls down the face guard on a blackened helm. He sits atop a pegasus that is a mirror image of mine. His plate armor matches, gleaming like obsidian in the bright moonlight. I reach up and close my helm, grabbing a jousting lance and bringing my pegasus up to the railing that splits the lanes. For a moment, I’m uncertain if I’m staring into a mirror--or even which side I’m staring from--our movements are matched perfectly, and the image is completely disorienting. Without warning, both pegasi suddenly charge toward each other. He lifts his lance. His pegasus leaps, flying toward us. I can only do the same. Our lances collide violently, splintering like glass and sending shards flying around us in a dazzling whiteout. A deep gash is torn in my arm, and it’s searing with pain! And then, the white turns to black.

I awaken with a violent jolt. My heart is pounding, and a bead of sweat rolls over my forehead as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. I cradle my arm, which is stinging with pain and numbness, though it doesn’t look any different this morning. The fire has died down to a single ember, but the rain still pours heavily onto the roof, occasionally lashing the windows with a shower of drops, and I am shivering in the cool room. I hear a low voice, humming a soft lullaby, and then a wing, yellow and warm, covers my shoulders and pulls me close with a gentle tug.
“Don’t worry little bird,” mumbles Fluttershy, seemingly caught up in a dream of her own, “You’re safe now. In a few days, when the sun comes up, I’ll take you home to your nest and you’ll be good as new. Oh! Princess Luna, you startled me! I was just...” The rest of her words are unintelligible, and after a moment of mumbled conversation, she resumes humming the lullaby. It’s an uncanny coincidence, the timing of our dreams, but her voice and touch are nonetheless comforting. To my right, Rainbow Dash is breathing steadily. Her back is to me, but I can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looks so small and fragile curled up like that. And yet it was because of her quick reflexes and courage that I am still alive. And I might have frozen to death if Fluttershy hadn’t stepped in to help when she did. A cocktail of sensations washes over me: the crippling fear and tension from the dream mixes and blends with the warm and peaceful tones of Fluttershy’s song. And finally, what effects still remain from the tea guide me back to sleep.

End of Book 1