• Published 8th Feb 2012
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Equestria: A Flux Tale - Star Sage



A Tiny Human lands in Equestria. Why? What? Who? Questions to be answered, and a quest to be found.

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Lunchtime

The city of Canterlot, a shining bucket of smiles and warmth, with everypony going about their business without a complaint or a harsh word to foul the air. Some were the elite of the pony society, rushing to make business deals, seal agreements, or just to find a good vantage spot as they went over some figures in some far flung corner of the world. Others were just normal ponies, no wealth or power, but just as needed for the day to day routine of the city. Cleaning, fixing, or just otherwise making sure things went smoothly, all of them, from the richest of the rich, to the guy sweeping the street, all happy with their place in the world.

“Hello there,” said one of them happily, and you smiled and nodded, getting a few smiles back as your reward. You recognized only like one in twenty of the ponies, but remembered the names of only those you were close to. That had marked you as odd, since it seemed like every pony in Canterlot knew every pony else’s name, and usually what they did for a living, each recognizing the other on sight. Luckily, Rex had admitted privately that he and a few griffon Apprentices had trouble with that too, and his advice was to just smile and nod, and try not to fumble the verbal ball too often.

So your small group made your way through the hustle and bustle of the Canterlot streets. Walking around, you noticed, idly, that the city seemed to be fully back to normal now. Several pockets of Chaos Stuff, had been left after Discord’s defeat, and had required the Princesses and the Element Wielders to contain them, with the worst, some evil demon tree thing needing the Princesses to personally banish it away. To the Sun, specifically, where the horrible thing was reduced to ashes in moments, and rendering whatever dark power it possessed moot.

“Ah, a pleasure to see you again sir,” comes a familiar voice, and you turn towards the sound of it to find Fancypants and Fluer de Lis, the former almost completely covered in various shopping bags, likely the latter’s.

“Hello Mr. Fancypants, how are you this fine afternoon?” you ask him pleasantly, as he starts to turn his course, Fluer following, the lady unicorn silent, as she always seemed to be…well except for that one time when you got her drunk at that party last week and then….yeah.

“Oh, I’ve just been indulging in a bit of a buying binge to celebrate some newfound fortune in the Griffon Kingdom’s of the west. That team I sent to the Northern Reach found a nice bit of iron ore in those mountains, just like DawnChaser said they would,” he comments, and you nod, remembering the two talking about that at one point.

“That’s nice to hear. I’m guessing you’re planning another party to celebrate your good fortune?” you suggest, and the unicorn smirks at you, nodding.

“Indeed I am, and I was wondering if you might join us again. Fluer and Ms. Rarity really seemed to enjoy having you and those two mares there the last time, and I myself rather liked Ms. Octavia’s ensemble providing the music,” he told you as he trotted along, Fluer nodding at his words to indicate she agreed.

“I’ll ask them if they want to come then,” you tell him, and the stallion nods with a broad smile.

“Excellent. I shall start the planning right away then. Expect a formal invitation before three days have passed,” he says brightly, and almost skips off, as the Captain trots closer to you on the opposite side.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you confess to hating that last party?” he asked you, and you nod in response.

“It was one of the dullest things I’ve been to since I got here, and that includes DawnChaser’s tests. Still, I know for a fact Octavia liked it, and I seem to remember Vinyl, once we got her up after all those drinks, admitted to having the time of her life. If I have to suffer to make them happy, it’s worth it,” you explain, and the Captain looks at you for a moment, scanning you up and down with his eyes, before getting a smile you can only describe as fatherly, on his face.

“What?” you ask, keeping you voice low so the Wonderbolts can’t hear.

“Just amused at how mature you’re growing in a short time, considering what you and Rainbow used to do around the palace,” he said with an air that just screamed ‘pleased with himself’ smugness. It was nearly enough to make you want to prove how immature you still were. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately considering the strength difference between the two of you, you arrived at the shop just a few moments later.

“Ah, my best customer and his pony friends, nice of you guys to drop by,” said the familiar voice of the open air café’s owner and only employee. His wings seem to flare up, and he does a little hop, flapping them lightly to lift himself up and over the counter, to come out and shake your hand with his claw.

“Heh, yes, because it’s not like he eats this crud every other day or more when we’ll let him,” comments Dash with a sarcastic tone, that the proprietor, a male griffin of middle years, takes with a smile to his beak. He, like the ponies, wears no clothing most of the time, though he did have an apron he put on while cooking. His eyes shone with a warmth that seemed missing in his fellow avians that you’d met, and his ‘hair’ feathers were styled in what you could only call a 50s era Greaser homage.

“So if I could somehow lure him away from you, he’d come here every meal? That’s quite a temptation to a lowly business owner like myself,” said the griffon with a chuckle in his voice to say he was joking…probably. The next moment you feel a wing at your back shuffling you forward onto your preferred stool, as the griffon hops back over the counter and turns to face you.

“So, you’re usual today then?” he asks, and you nod enthusiastically, with the ponies behind you groaning a bit, as they eye the café across the street which was already doing a brisk lunchtime business.

“I think so. You guys want to dine here, or take a walk to the other side of the street?” you offer, knowing that the fare of the café was less than palatable to ones of their dietary needs.

“That sounds good to me. I hope they still have some pie left,” said the light blue male pegasus, before flapping over to stand in line with the others. Dash and Spitfire look after him, Dash shrugging and going with him, landing next to him.

“Soarin and his dang pies. Anyway, stay safe while we’re gone, and no wandering off, you hear?” said the fire maned pegasus woman, and you sigh and roll your eyes.

“Yes mom,” you tell her in a sarcastic tone, and she just grins at you, giving you a mother kiss on your forehead before joining her squadmates across the street.

“You know she’s just teasing you. But do try not to wander off. We’re supposed to be keeping a guard on you,” he reminds you, before trotting towards the others. They’d been like that for the three weeks you’d been normal size, mostly because of Luna getting all uber protective of you since you’re a weak, helpless human, something she demonstrated to you by picking you up with her magic despite your armor, and tossing you around like a rag doll.

“Ah, so nice to see the younger generation at play,” comments the griffon behind you, and you feel tempted, for just a moment, to draw your blade and pointed at him. Luckily, your impulses had been getting better in the last few weeks, with Shining Armor basically drilling into you that losing focus, even for a moment, can lead to somepony dying because of you. That echoed too much the words of that…thing in your dreams, and was something you took to heart.

“Bah, I’ll get them back for it. I may not be able to fly anymore, but I’m still friends with DawnChaser. Tell him it’s for science, and he’ll do almost anything to help you, including setting up elaborate pranks,” you tell the griffon as you spin around on your stool to find him already having finished with your order, probably having made it a while back, the plate clattering to the counter in front of you.

The order was plain…or at least would be back home. Some fries on the side, a bubbling, fizzy drink, and a burger. You had, when Shining suggested this place as something that might appeal to your appetite, asked him how the food was made. He’d told you not to question it, and to know that it was the only place that served this type of food in all of Equestria, so just enjoy it while you could.

“Heh, here’s to you, and to your delicious food stuffs,” you told the griffin with a grin, gulping at the drink, and then slamming it down empty, earning a smirk from the avian as he placed another already filled glass next to that one, and took the empty down.

“It is nice to have some regular faces to depend on business for. I tell you, the ponies just don’t appreciate our type of cuisine,” he complains idly, while rinsing out the glass, as you down a few fries, nodding.

“It comes with their lifestyles I suppose. Though I have been meaning to ask you about that. I know for a fact there are other…people with our tastes in this city. That jerk ambassador from the Griffin Kingdoms, no offense, doesn’t strike me as a grass and hayfries type of gentleman,” you tell him, before tearing into your meal again, getting another thoughtful grin from your host as he finishes cleaning the cup, and setting it in a bin next to the sink.

“None taken, my bipedal friend. But truth to tell, most of those who come here from those places bring their own food. I may get a few here from those embassies and such, but none of them as regularly as you, though I hope that’s about to change,” he tells you.

“Oh?” you ask.

“Indeed. I’ve heard from a friend of a friend of a cousin that some new Wing Guards are coming from the Eastern Kingdoms soon as some kind of show of force. Group like that sounds like they’d get bored of barracks food real quick like,” he answers almost wistfully, and you nod, trying to think on everything you learned.

After a moment, you remember, Wing Guards were sort of like Wonderbolts, but for Griffins. They were armored opponents, who used their weight to bash other fliers out of the sky, and their flight to daze ground based opponents. They typically used either maces, or sometimes hammers, with telescoping handles so they could be made longer, allowing them to keep foes at a distance, rather than letting them get close.

“How many do you think are coming?” you say biting into the burger again, remembering that most of the Griffin Kingdoms only had a few dozen such Guards, and they were supposed to be the best of the best.

“A whole flight, five of the roughest, toughest, and just plain meanest Griffins in the whole of the Kingdoms, I expect they make quite a show of strength, and impress a few of the equines, as well as the other nations,” he tells you, his chest swelling with pride for his homeland.

“You think they’ll be any trouble for the Guard?” you ask, adding the capital G to the word to indicate you expected the Royal, rather than city, Guard to be called in if these visitors proved to be a bit to rambunctious .

“Oh, nothing too bad. Probably a bar fight, maybe a street brawl, but nowhere near as bad as what a certain purple pony we both know did a few months back,” he said with a grin, and you catch it too, looking over towards the bar that had been rubble the first time you saw it. It was now quite different, though of course, closed this close to noon. It would open in a few hours though, and the lights, as well as a neon sign of a purple unicorn, would declare ‘The Chaser’ open for business.

“I see,” you chuckle, gulping down the last of your meal, and then washing that down with a pull on your drink, before rising out of the seat you’d been using.

“Yep, you just wait and see. Anyway, I suppose you’ll be headed over to your hatchsitters now?” he asked, indicating he’d probably give you seconds if you wanted, likely with a stronger beverage that you knew he kept under the counter.

“Yeah, I’d better. The purple one would probably like me back for some more pokes with needles and things,” you tell him, rising from your seat.

“I suppose it’s the prince one pays to live here,” he mentions, and you nod.

“Speaking of, has he paid you for this week, or do I need to?” you ask, DawnChaser having setup a system to just pay the griffon in advance, seeing as you ate here at least once a day if you could get away with it, since the roughage of the ponies’ food had long since been dull to your tastebuds.

“Oh, he’s paid up for a month and more, so you just feel free to come back any time,” said the griffon with a smirk, and you nod, waving a hand at him as you walk towards the other café. Sitting at a table on the edge where they could see you, though not hear you over the din of the busy Canterlot street, you saw your guardians. The Captain, as always, never took his eyes off you, while Spitfire would only do so when the other two, who rarely looked towards you, started to get a little hotter in their arguments than she’d allow.

“Enjoy you meal?” asked the Captain, leaning down and using his tongue to pick up a small cake thing that was probably some kind of dessert, though it looked like it was made of spinach paste or something.

“I always do, don’t I? Though I think I’m starting to get fat again,” you admit, pounding your fist into your chest, and causing a hollow chime sound to echo from inside.

“Oh, that’s just paranoia. Believe me, anypony who trains with Shining Armor isn’t libel to have any excess fat on them at all. A bit more muscle maybe, but no fat,” Spitfire assured you, as she rose from her seat, and then reached into a pocket of her suit, laying down a couple of bits, probably far more than their meal cost, and walking towards you, the other Wonderbolts following suit.

“Indeed, I’ve seen you go at him in ways that no fat pony could. It’s probably just your imagination,” said the Captain, as he rose as well, trotting up beside you, while the Wonderbolts flapped their wings, and took off, holding a bit above you, but all three looking about, before nodding towards the Captain.

“Shall we return to DawnChaser then? I’m sure he has a few more tests to run today, and then you can prepare for your date with Ms. Octavia tonight,” said the black unicorn guard, grinning at you. Luckily, you’d gotten quite used to the Pony Professor preferred methods of poking you with prodigiously pointed needles, and so you followed after him as he led the way towards the lab.

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