Humanity and Ponykind

by Swordsmen

Terra Incognita

At every part of school, from the corridors to the classrooms, everyone spoke about the pony who entered the school grounds yesterday. The news spread extremely fast. Not an hour later after the students of that class left History of the World, the corridors were filled with whispers and interest on the subject.

It was something never heard or seen of before. There was never such a case like it in the entire country, much less in the school. Usually, equines resided at ponies-only establishments, and they were very far away from human institutions. This was a subject that the pair of boys, William and Robert were discussing at lunch with their closest friends.

"Bloody hell they aren't," Commented Robert on one of his colleague's opinion on the matter, "They won't do that, they simply can't. I can't be bothered to care about those animals," He continued with a nasty look on his face.

"Oi, can't you give them a break for once? Why are you so against them anyways?" Questioned his mate Arthur, through his blond hair that covered his face.

Robert tried adjusting his own light brown hair, though, due to the force, it only became more unkempt. Then, he let out a long sigh, "Remember me aunt Alice? She went into one of those weird clinic things, can't remember its name now," He said to everyone in the table, looking nervous, " She came out as a bloody pony, I couldn't even recognize her when I first saw her!"

"Oh... Yeah," Said William, "Yeah, my neighbors are thinking of doing the same, mate. Y'know, converting and the sort."

"Wait hold on, what are we talking about again?" Asked Ted, who was paying attention on a conversation in a nearby table.

"Conversion Bureaus, ya dimwit," Said Arthur irritably next to him.

"Oh. Right." Catching on with their ongoing conversation, "Makes me wonder a few things, that does,"

As they helped themselves with lunch, nobody batted a eye on the heated discussions about the very same topic in other tables around them. Instead, they pretended to be interested in the weather outside, showing themselves curious at how there even was sunshine on the windows today. They remained so until William had finished his own plate, and suddenly looked at Ted with a curious face.

"Hey Ted, what does it make you wonder about?"

"Hm?" Gulping in a mouthful of bread.

"Y'said it made you think about a few things."

"Well, yeah, it does...I mean, I've been thinking, what if that pony, Blaze..." He paused, noticing everybody's faces, "--Didn't you guys think he acted too much like, y'know, one of us?"

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Demanded Robert, pushing his unfinished bowl of soup aside.

"Fine then," He breathed in slightly, "What if Blaze was a human himself once?" This raised a few eyebrows from his colleagues.

"The way he spoke, how he acted and stuff, he awfully reminded me of a normal human teacher."

"Mrs. Annabel said he was from Canterwhat," Said Arthur calmly.

"Canterlot." Interjected William.

"Yeah, whatever. And so? What does it change?" Arthur asked Ted directly, but before he gave him time to reply, "I think it doesn't change the fact that he can levitate things just with his mind, and that he spewed out stuff we don't even know if really happened,"

"Actually, have any of you ever met a pony before?" Asked Ted suddenly, then added, "Before Blaze, I mean."

Everyone went silent at that moment, thoughtful expressions everywhere Ted looked. Robert's face, however, seemed to be telling him that he already knew the answer. As a matter of fact, nobody on the table, except Robert with his aunt, had actually directly met with a pony before. Perhaps they had seen a few, occasionally, but not enough to tell each other what they thought about them.

Thoroughly thinking about the topic, Ted asked yet another question, "If you don't mind, what was it like, Robert? Your aunt," Attempting to shine some light on the matter.

Robert seemed rather impressed, to be asked this question, but nevertheless did not hesitate in answering, "How do I put this for you lot..." He sighed.

"Me aunt used to be this grumpy, no-fun type of person, though she was cool when she really wanted to. One day she found out she had some kind of problem on her back that would put her on a wheelchair. Doctors suggested her to go to one of the Bureaus and see if the problem would be solved,"

"Wow, must've been something real serious," Arthur commented. Robert continued, brushing his hair slightly, out of habit, "She went in, and stayed there for like, a week or so. We weren't allowed to see her until she could walk and stuff. Thing is, when we finally got to see her, I couldn't recognize her, not even from afar."

He noticed Arthur's smirk, "Not just in appearance, in her head as well. All of a sudden, she went from a grumpy old lady, to an all happy-go-lucky gal. Says she found admiration on the world around her, and that the next time she could go abroad, she would go to Horseland,"

They chuckled at the remark, but stopped once the information sunk in on their consciousness. They stared at each other in silence, completely ignoring the near-shouting discussions nearby.

"They brainwashed your aunt?" Asked Ted, bewildered.

He nodded sadly, "Still remembers me though, all that changed was her personality... And that horn of hers, making things float out of pure joy..."

No one pressed the matter further. They had learned everything they could've from the discussion, and felt as if any further questioning would stress Robert just enough for him to leave the table altogether. Instead, they finished lunch and started speaking about other affairs, mainly related to school.

Seeing others students leaving their respective tables, the group left their own and followed the crowd outside.

"Oi Arthur, what are we gonna have now? French?" Asked William.

"Nah, probably Geography, I forgot my timetable already, to be honest with ya," He answered, smiling.

He glanced around and noticed his classmate, Alfred walking by, chatting with his friends. He tapped on his shoulder, and prompted him to turn around, "Oh hey there William, how is it going?" Smiling

"Pretty well. Hey d'you know what we're having next?"

His smile faded away, "Yeah, I do,".

William took notice of this, but asked again, "What are we gonna have?"

"History, with professor Blaze,"

This seemed to have hit a nerve in everyone's mind. The group literally stared at Alfred with a shocked expression. Ted just shook his head, as if trying to figure out if this was a joke or not. They kept walking, accompanying Alfred to his locker, which was actually near the classroom where they usually have History.

Finally, William spoke up, "This is not a joke, right?"

"Not at all, mate,"

"I swear to god that we weren't gonna have History until Friday!" Said Ted, unbelieving.

"Yeah, we were supposed to have it on Friday, but they flipped our timetables without any warning. I thought you guys knew it by now?"

"Not at all," Said William, then added, "How do you know this, by the way?"

He didn't reply right away, busying himself taking and organizing his locker. When he finished, he put his bag on his shoulders and motioned them towards the classroom door, which was still locked. He checked the time on his phone and sighed.

"Not worth talking about it so close to the others--" He paused, "Hannah told me they flipped our timetables this morning," He examined his colleagues' curious faces, "I even asked her why, but she didn't have any idea either,"

"Since when could they just change our timetables like that? We never had that happening to us before," Arthur said, scratching his chin.

"I don't know," He said, simply, "What I know, is that we're gonna have to sit through an entire session with professor Blaze."

And so the discussion came to an end, with the bell screaming through the corridors, a barrage of students came flooding the hallways of the school and fill the silence with endless chatter. Soon, the rest of their classmates joined the group and awaited in relative silence next to the door awaiting for their teacher. While they waited, some students took opportunity to tell the others that their timetables changed -- many of whom seemed utterly perplexed.

Much like last time, most other classes had already vacated to their respective classrooms, and the History students were left quite alone in silence. Some students wondered if it was this time around that they would know about the First Contact, an event many (but not all) were interested in learning more about.

And yet again, they heard the familiar hoofsteps far into the corridors. They were accompanied by normal footsteps, presumably their teacher, Mrs. Annabel. And so it was, professor Blaze, a rather tall and commanding figure, following a slim, yet somehow smaller woman. Professor Blaze had a small stack of books floating shortly behind him, filled with an array of papers between them. The students noted that neither the professor with his deep voice, nor the teacher said anything to the students as they passed by.

She fiddled around with her key chain and eventually opened the door, professor Blaze being the first one to enter. Calmly, everyone followed suit´, not daring to speak or whisper anything to each other, merely limiting themselves to examining professor Blaze's odd features today.

Professor Blaze wore a small black tie around his neck, in contrast with his light blue coat and white mane, which was much more unkempt than the last time they've sen him. He also wore a pair of spectacles, that looked way too small for his expressive eyes. Though, these look like they're in need of sleep, having long dark shadows beneath them.

Despite this fact, he did not show any signs of tiredness in his behaviour, rather, he was apprehensive in every movement he made, to placing the stack of books on the teacher's desk, to speaking to Mrs. Hannah herself, by constantly tapping his hoof on the floor slightly.

Once everyone had settled themselves on their respective seats, the professor simply nodded at Mrs. Hannah as if trying to cut their conversation short. She glanced away, facing the students.

"Pardon us for this unexpected session of History," Clasping her hands tightly, "We have been preparing our next session with extreme care, but with this sudden change in timetables, we had to rush part of our plans to accommodate the early session,"

"Because of this, Professor Blaze needs, maybe... Fifteen minutes to prepare himself properly," Her voice became even more ragged than usual at the end. She glanced back at Professor Blaze, who now was levitating his books and intently studying some notes he had put between the books previously.

Another fact that nobody noticed until now, was that his horn actually glowed when he levitated the objects, encasing the books in a strange blueish-transparent aura. Everyone was very curious about this new discovery, nearly making them all ignore their teacher's speech, "While we wait, however, maybe we should recap where we left off." She paused, examining their face carefully, "Hm, what about you, Mr. Nuno?"

He shook his head, clearly caught off-guard by his own name being spoken out loud so suddenly, "Erm, what was that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention,"

"Can you tell us where we left off in the previous session?"

"Oh, that... Uhm," He seemed to be struggling to recall.

"We, uh, started talking about Equestria, I think... And we learned that Equestria was a federation or something before, and that it became a dual-something and started expanding fast,"

His colleagues simply stared at him, dearly trying not to laugh.

"That... Sums up our last session pretty evenly, Mr. Nuno," She couldn't help but to smile as well. She turned away, took a piece of chalk, and began scribbling on the blackboard, not text, but a scheme of all important events that they've probably learned in the previous session, "This," Once she was finished, "Is the general timeline of Equestria's history so far. You can most likely tell that this is everything that happened BEFORE Equestria met the European powers, hence why I put 'First Contact' at the very end,"

Arthur raised his hand, "Mrs. Annabel, is it in this session that we get to know about the First Contact?" Others around him seemed eager to know the answer as well.

The teacher merely smiled before calmly nodding at them all. Most of the students who were paying attention, were satisfied to hear about this, though the rest simply couldn't take their eyes off of professor Blaze, who was still very much concentrated on his notes.

For a while, everyone went silent again. Mrs. Annabel would return to the blackboard to make some adjustments here and there, but besides the noise of her scribbling, the class remained muted. Not even William and Robert bothered to interrupt this silence by sharing their thoughts to each other.

What felt like hours for the students, was like a five-minute trip to the restroom for professor Blaze, as he finally closed down his books and notes floating around, and gently placed them on the desk with a soft thump. He adjusted his voice, and addressed himself to the students.

"Once again, forgive me for the delay. I needed some extra time in order to execute this session of History properly," His voice, deep and forceful to the ears, seemed a little more ragged than usual, "As you might, or not, have guessed, today's session will include an... Hm, what is the word I'm looking for..."

"A new style of teaching, yes, the most accurate term to describe this. One that is rarely ever used outside of Equestria," He carefully examined each student's face, "Not to worry, of course. This method of education has not shown negative consequences in the past -- Rather, it enhances the memory on the particular subject, in this case..."

"The First Contact," He breathed in very slowly, and exhaled similarly as well.

"All I ask of you, is to relax-- Clear any thoughts you might have now, and think of absolutely nothing. This will help you concentrate on the following subject, and retain as much information as possible within your consciousness," He paused, "I advise you to breathe in and out slowly, very slowly,"

The class looked at each other, very much confused by the professor's orders, however, had no choice but to comply. Slowly, the class cleared their minds, and closed their eyes; Some were even enjoying this moment, with small, but noticeable smirks on their faces. Naturally, the group that had previously been in discussion at lunchtime, were the last ones to follow the professor's orders.

At last, when even Mrs. Annabel had relaxed herself in her chair beside the desk, professor Blaze spoke softly," And now, let us discover what really happened all of those years ago, in the fateful year of Sixteen-Seventy-Three."

**

Darkness invaded their minds. All of their possible thoughts, their future plans, everything having to do with them, was erased from existence. Everybody was one, and one only. Everyone had one goal, one mindset, one destiny.

Their eyes were closed, yet their could feel the warm embrace of the candles nearby. They were thinking very deeply, attempting to decipher what an unknown entity had just said to them. Everything seemed vague, but slowly becoming sharper as they thought about it more.

It was clear now.

They were Bernand Lavoie, the commander of a detachment from the 2nd Armée Coloniale, a most prestigious position so generously given by the lord himself, Louis XIV de France. His mission was very much clear, charter the western parts of Québec for future integration of the lands claimed by the French Empire.

His hands were held firmly on the rough wooden table beneath him, grasping an old-looking cartographic map of the coast of North America. As he opened his eyes more, his vision began to swim around unsteadily. He was tired of hearing his incompetent advisor blabbering about how they should evacuate the area, as it had 'not enough resources to sustain us this winter'.

"Jacque D'Ambroise, do I need to repeat myself once more?" He lifted himself up from the table, and stared directly into the frightened man's eye.

"Sir, with due respect!" He shivered, "What if we run out of food? What if our expedition fails to arrive within this week? Sir, it is for the good of our men that I say these words!" D'Ambroise said, fiddling around with his short cravat.

"Yes, yes, very honourable of you," Completely dismissing his words, brushing his beard slightly, thinking of something else, "But we have other issues to attend to, haven't we?" He examined his adviser's confused expression, "Our expedition, D'Ambroise. Our men have been waiting far too long for the expedition's return,"

"Well, that is a concerning thought, commander." He inched closer to Bernand, intently staring at the map near him.

With a candle positioned right in the middle of wooden table, the shadow of Jacque DeAmbroise was illuminated further, giving Bernand a clear view of his adviser.

It is common for advisers to dress fancy -- with the blue suit above a black waistcoat, beautifully decorated with buttons and golden stripes -- on all occasions, even when traversing a swamp. It is rather sad to watch it get muddy and ragged, but customs are customs. Not to mention his spectacles, oddly shaped like half-moons, said to improve one's vision further. An interesting ingenuity.

Besides his well-decorated clothing, D'Ambroise himself was a shabby old man, barely reaching Bernand by the shoulders. He seemed quite afraid of him, even when engaging in a normal conversation. Perhaps it was due to his height, or his position so generously given by the lord. Either way, this mattered little to him, his mind was preoccupied with an important detail.

He kept looking at the map, at where he was supposed to be, an area completely surrounded by terra Incognita, lands belonging to the natives, all of them hostile to his men. But they were no threat to him, rather, it should be the opposite. But aside from having a huge advantage against the locals, mainly gunpowder, he lacked basic necessities such as food.

He had taken into account the camp's food stocks, and, admittedly, they were not enough to keep the men alive through the rapidly-approaching winter. He could not admit this openly, though. It would sever his men's morale, and only lead to bad decisions. He had not yet suffered from the displeasure of men dying under his command, but when the situation calls it, he must take drastic measures.

Yes, perhaps he should take the middle road. Ration food stocks, and await for the the expedition of his twelve fellow men west, into terra incognita, to arrive. If they did not arrive in time, however... No, it needn't come to that.

He looked at D'Ambroise, pitying him for his old age, and necessity to put his nose uncomfortably close to the map in order to read it properly.

"Jacque, I believe I have said this before, but we shall not leave this camp until we finish mapping that last spot west. Our cartographers will thank us dearly for this, as will the crown,"

He slowly rose up from the table, and adjusted his spectacles slightly, concern written on his face, "But, sir, is it worth the risk?"

"I have made my decision. I have taken into account our expedition, and they should return to us within this very week. We will act appropriately if my men do not return by that time," He eyed D'Ambroise again, letting a small puff of air flow through his beard. He held his hands on his back, and paced back and forth around the candle-lit room.

"Speak your mind, Ambroise, what is it?" He stared at the window outside, not even looking at the man.

"It will not come to that, sir," He said, approaching Bernand carefully, "I understand the responsibility you shoulder, commandant, but I too have seen what things like that do to men. What you say, is essentially, desertion. Desertion en masse.

"Of course not," He said calmly, glancing the man right beside him, "We are simply managing our resources accordingly," He continued, in a calm, but assertive tone.

He did not reply, merely looking at him with a saddened and worried way. He turned away from Bernand and began examining the map laid out in the table again. Bernand simply observed him, believing that that old coot had good intentions, and that his suggestions are inclined to be more conservative and risk-free in general.

However, he could not live his entire life without taking risks, where's the fun in that? He imagined D'Ambroise being forced out of a noble's court to join in on a expedition to the farthest reaches of the New World, almost begging to be left where he was, scared of what might lie beyond the never-ending forests.

Then again, according to what he heard, D'Ambroise was a man who grew up in the densest parts of France, where blooming cities and rich culture were prevalent. Everything was close to each other, and there was no need in worrying about food and water. Being thrown into a completely different situation so quickly with almost no warning, would confuse any man in the entire world.

Perhaps this was why the most graceful King, Louis XIV, chose him to lead the detachment of the 2nd Armée Coloniale off to the wilderness in western Québec. The natives were not friendly, aggressive even. Though, a big enough force should dissuade them from attacking the detachment, even though the number of men he currently possessed at his direct command was very low, at roughly fifty in total.

He could see them through the window of his cabin. Men tirelessly patrolling the fortified camp, moving resources from place to place, having short breaks beneath some sheds, training their gun positions, taking stocks... They were all part of a truly disciplined army, however small their number was.

But mother nature was not on their side today. In the background, behind the endless carpet of trees, there were huge mountain ranges, that brought strong winds down below, hitting the camp very hard. He could see his men trying to lift a barrel of gunpowder to no avail, as the wind kept pushing it out of their grips.

Not mentioning the ever-so gloomy skies, a type of weather he had to get accustomed to, including the freezing temperatures it brought, forcing his men outside to wear thick and protective clothing, such as long brown coats, head ware, gloves, and scarves. At a cost, his men's maneuverability was hindered, and were more susceptible to ambush attacks that required fast thinking and movement.

Winter was not the first thing that came to mind, though. He had already heard what it meant from D'Ambroise if they were to remain here until that time. He was confident that their mission here would be finished by the time the first specs of snow fell to the ground.

He sighed, deciding that it still wasn't time to be thinking about that. He turned away from the window, and approached Jacque, who was still eyeing the map. He did not say a word to him, as he too examined the map again.

It wasn't as nearly as decorated as the other maps he'd seen in his voyage to North America. Many of which he'd see before held beautifully decorated seas and land areas, full of detail and made very clear. This one had nothing compared to those. It was a very rough sketch, barely resembling North America at all. It seemed to be copied straight out of another map, bearing only vague descriptions and names around it, mostly centered around grand ports or cities.

He spotted Kakabeka, the closest settlement to which he could bring his soldiers safely without having to worry about the local natives all the time.

"Jacque, are you able to tell me where we are in this map?" He said, brushing his beard slightly.

D'Ambroise looked at him suddenly, with a pleasant look on his face, "Thank you, sir Bernand," Giving him a nod, "And I'm afraid that this map does not stretch so far west, sir Bernand."

"Are we really that far off?" He asked, showing the tiniest amount of interest. While in reality, he was concerned.

"Oui, we quite are," Taking the opportunity, "That is why I am worried about this winter, sir." He added, with an hopeful expression written on his old face.

"Hm. Perhaps your fears are justified, but they should not be the center of our attention, at the moment," Pretending to not care about situation much.

"Whatever you say, sir. Still, I believe that an early arrival from our--"

The door behind them suddenly burst open, with frantic shouting and panting. Bernand and Jacque quickly turned around, caught off-guard and definitely not expecting a disturbance like this without their guards notifying them about this.

But just as it happens, a man, drenched in sweat and colored in every shade of red, stood there with his hand against the door frame, panting heavily. Behind him, they could see the guards finally catching up with him, shouting curses and dreadful insults at the man. Yet, he did not care, despite his current condition, he seemed determined on doing, or rather, saying something to them.

He breathed in very slowly, and said these words, "The. Expedition arrived. Front gate. Please." Just as the guards seized him by his shoulders and dragged him back outside, leaving the door open and allowing for a cold breeze to invade the room.

Jacque and Bernand simply stared at the man, utterly bewildered by what just happened. Not a moment later, Bernand had put his boots on, closed off his coat, and put his preferred beaver Tricorne firmly on his head. When he looked back, Jacque simply put on his coat, and marched out of the door, closing it behind them.

His men in the camp had noticed what happened, and stopped fulfilling their duties, looking at the man being dragged off onto the front entrance of the camp.

"MEN! HEAR ME!" He called out, as loud as he could, "OUR EXPEDITION HAS ARRIVED, MAN THE FRONT ENTRANCE, AND PREPARE YOUR GUNS!"

As the last word was spoken, every man abandoned what they were doing, and rushed to get their equipment ready as soon as they could. D'Ambroise barely managed to keep up with Bernand as he rapidly paced forth to the main entrance, where the man was still being escorted by the pair of guards.

"Si- Sir! Why is there need of guns? It is our own expedition!"

"The way that man said it, he seemed desperate, D'Ambroise. Hurry up, now!" He said, picking up speed.

Comments

[ssokolow]

"Remember me aunt Alice? She went into one of those weird clinic things, can't remember its name now," He said to everyone in the table, looking nervous, " She came out as a bloody pony, I couldn't even recognize her when I first saw her!"

"Oh... Yeah," Said William, "Yeah, my neighbors are thinking of doing the same, mate. Y'know, converting and the sort."

"Wait hold on, what are we talking about again?" Asked Ted, who was paying attention on a conversation in a nearby table.

"Conversion Bureaus, ya dimwit,"

And now the story's shaky but "successful more often than not" effort to build that distinctive "alternate history" feel (which you find in professionally published original fiction) comes crashing to the ground.

Also, the pseudo-flashback felt like it was moving much more slowly than the first two chapters, so I started skimming over it to get closer to the speed of progression I'd gotten accustomed to.