Five students, aged fifteen to sixteen, find themselves lost in Equestria. Alone, without each other. But they can communicate through their only living asset. Their cellphones.
They were students attending a high school, friends that got along well and shared many things with each other, then they were lost. Separated and scattered, they each find themselves within the magical world they thought fictional, Equestria. But there is something off, as each student discovers.
Their cellphones, which work somehow despite being on the wrong planet, and all their contacts are gone. Except for their four friends. What could this mean? What plan are they using? Where is everyone?!
My Little Pony is Property of Hasbro Entertainment and Lauren Faust Human characters are real people who have given their permission to be in this story.
Prologue: In which a protagonist awakes within his new realm - breakfast is desired - and medieval english is discussed.
When Taran’s waking confusion subsided and he realised he was no longer in his home, but in what seemed to be a forest near to a colossal stone castle, his first thought was not what bizarre act of God had led him to arrive upon these queer circumstances, nor what effects this would have on his fairly pedestrian life on earth, nor how he could possibly return, but simply how he could obtain his preferred breakfast: a cornish pasty, and a London Fog.
Whether this stunted reaction to his transdimensional travel was due to an innate stoicism and world-weariness, or due to a chronic cognitive deficiency, shall be left to the reader’s judgement.
He stooped down, feeling the ground beneath, and was met with the rustling of dead leaves. He perused the environment in close proximity to him, and found himself standing surrounded by trees and shrubbery. He swiftly came to the deduction he was indeed in a forest, as he had thought before, and since forests tended to be unlikely locations to find a cooked breakfast pastry and specialty tea, he set off in the direction of the castle, humming tunelessly and hoping whatever group of ennui-filled sentries there should prove amenable to passing lunatics, rather than inclined to kill them for leisure.
Obviously, it’s the latter option, he thought with a hint of bemusement, as a well armoured stallion galloped out from behind a hedge line and placed a large pike to his neck.
‘Ah, I’m in Equestria. Right, not going to question the logic in this, might as well go along with it.’
‘Hold thy tongue!’ the stallion barked, ‘A foul creature such as thee I have ne’er before witnessed. What manner of beast art thou?’
‘Considering ye olde butcherede Englishe, I’d say I’m in quite ancient Equestria. Ooh, maybe I could see prepubescent Celestia and OHMYGOD YOUNG LUNA WOULD BE ADORABLE!’
The soldier paced back, visibly distressed by Taran’s pointless rambling. Mustering up the remainder of his nerve, he proudly announced, ‘I know not what foul abomination standeth before me, but know I am sworn to defend the Royal Heirs, and if need be, I shall kill thou with no flicker of hesitation!’
‘Thee.’
‘I beg thy pardon, abomination?’
‘You said “I shall kill thou”. It should be “I shall kill thee”. You see, thou is the nominative, and thee is the oblique.’
A momentary silenced ensued, before the soldier swung his pike round the other away, smashing the heavy wooden pole directly into Taran’s face. A plume of blood erupted from his nose, delicately raining down onto the grass, with the grace of a really quite elegant public fountain being carbombed by the IRA. As sweet, liberating unconsciousness washed over Taran, his last musings were on frailty of life, and the fruitlessness of hoping to enjoy a decent breakfast.
Taran awoke confused and uncertain of his location for the second time in a few hours. This time, however, his attention was immediately drawn to his attacker, who was standing at his side, weeping and spluttering apologies.
‘I bey thine infinite pardon, I swear I did not mean to hurt thee! It was an accident! Thou wert trespassing, and I was gravely afeard, and thou spoke not once a word of sense, and thou --’
‘I, erm, I understand, it’s quite fine,’ Taran said, cupping his hands around his nose and wincing, ‘I imagine it was quite startling.’
‘Oh, thou art kind! Thou must understand, the Royalty are staying at this castle, and forgive me, I am not well travelled, I have never seen thy species. Be thou a Gryphon?’
‘Actually, I’m a --’, Taran paused, and contemplated when he would ever again have a chance to be designated a mythological hybrid of lion and eagle. ‘--Yes. A Gryphon, that’s me. Flew all the way here from . . . erm. . . Talon-land. I had hoped to represent my nation to the Royal Heirs, as you said they were near here.’
‘Thou art an ambassador?’ The sentry managed to look even more dejected than he had before. ‘I have assaulted a foreign dignitary?!? Oh, I beg thee, let me do thee some service to I may return to thy graces.’
‘It’s fine,’ Taran said, feeling sympathy for the guard, who was clearly stressed to breaking point from guarding royalty, ‘If you could just lead me to the castle, that’d be grand. Ooh, and also, do you think some breakfast could possibly be arranged?’
A brilliant view was what Tim awakened to. Beautifully grown trees with lush green leaves swaying gently in a sun-heated wind, giant ripe apples plump and ready to fall into waiting baskets below. Tim stood beneath such a tree, the shade keeping the kind warmth of the sun off his skin.
Off in the distance of this vast plain was a large red barn-themed house that seemed awfully familiar to the boy. Even further into the distance was an even more familiar small town, painted with the majority of pink and yellow apart from a giant gingerbread house, a large white and blue carousel, and a tree. Anyone who had spent half a year repeatably watching a certain show about magic and friendship would be sure to understand the extreme circumstance that Tim found himself in.
Looking a bit lower, however, showed the also familiar rear end of an orange, stetson wearing, happy farm pony. And the familiar way her legs were reared back and aimed at the tree while whistling a merry tune as if this were a everyday thing. In another word, oblivious.
"Ehhh?"
*Smack*
The good news, the apples fell down. The bad news, so did Tim, wheezing out the last of his breath in an attempt to express the unbearable amount of pain his stomach now currently endured.
The orange pony, named Applejack as known by many, turned swiftly on the spot to confront the obstacle her kick had meet. "What in tarnations?!"
Despite being in no small amount of pain, Tim always liked to make a good first impression. So, with sheer determination and tears in his eyes, his managed to say, "H-Hi. Nice kick."
Applejack was baffled. A creature she had never seen, never heard of, and didn't even resemble something she knew of, had just sneaked its way behind her right in the middle of her kick. Then complemented her on it.
"Ah- Ah'm sorry? But what were- why are- what are ya?!"
His stomach screamed through his nerves not to, but Tim stilled sucked in a breath to answer. "I-" That was as far as he got before his inner fluids spewed up his throat and onto the roots of the apple tree of covering most of his shirt.
Once again he tried to get some sort of communication by raising a hand, but it fell flat, as did his mind. Applejack just simply stared, bewildered and gaining no small headache from trying to place reason into the situation. Finally an idea came to mind, to get the one pony who could make some sense from his scene. As she turned to leave, a series of beeping placed into a small tune rang out from the creature. Further investigation showed it to be from the pocket of the pants if was wearing.
Wanting at least some peace of mind, Applejack gently pushed the object from the pants and onto the ground. It was a small and rectangle shaped, made mostly of a very soft coloured metal. On one side that had squishy parts and a square made of glass that shone, were the words '1 new message'.
'A message? How in Equestria did that thing get a message? It was sittin' in front of me the entire time!' This only added more questions, and grew the desire to find answers. Applejack was careful not to smash the device as she pushed down the squishy part, and it responded by changing the words to something different.
To the east of the great city Canterlot, past the snowy ridges of Foal Mountain, deep within the trees and dark, lies a small town hidden from the world. Populated by boarded windows and smashed doors, the town had not seen the light of any living creature, or even the sun, for quite some time. Not even spiders dared touch the place so cobwebs were not an addition to the scenery. Deep in the forest surrounding the town, blue lights danced and sang with a silent tune no ears could understand.
Hollow Shades, a ghost town that most had forgotten about. Those who did remember that long since passed away or moved beyond the reach of other ponies. Yet, in the town square once only home to dirt, something stirred.
Known by his friends as the Welshmen, Richard had never really been part of the brony community. It had only been a slight interest for him, so he could put up with his friends mad conversations and ridiculous behavior influenced from the show. However, it was thanks to this that he was familiar with the art style and visuals of the show, and it was that that sent a chill down his spine as he walked around the strange town.
"Where the fuck am I?" Richard gazed around as confusion dug its claws in. Panic wasn't immediately setting in, but his senses were upset as he started to explore. There truly wasn't anyone here, no people, pets, wild animals, nothing. The place was dead silent.
Finally, he decided to check what he had available on his person, and found the only item he had was his cellphone. An Android touchscreen, something he had gotten for his fifteenth birthday, and had kept it running for over a year. Turning it on, he was relived to find it still work, and that he had a signal. Well, kind of. The signal bar kept hopping from one bar, to two, three, four, then no signal. It repeated the process and didn't stop. Deciding that was fine, Richard opened his contacts to get hold of his parents, who should be able to tell him where he is.
But they weren't there. His contacts had been emptied, everyone's numbers that he knew, friends, teachers, relatives, everyone, were gone. Except for four. Eli, Piri, Taran, and Tim.
"Where the fuck have all my contacts gone? The hell?"
Sighing deeply, he knew that these four had to still be on there for a reason. But it just had to be them. Moving into the writing the text, he used the option 'Send to all contacts' just so he wouldn't have to retype it.
'text me, pls, im lost'. It was a simple message, but it got the point through. Well, at least Richard hoped it did. He pressed send.
A screech rattled the town, forcing Richard to cover his ears and fall to the ground. Around him the windows burst from their frames and embedded shards all along the dirt road, some scrapping past him and leaving cuts. The world seemed to shake around him as old planks fell, their nails rattled lose, and some of the older buildings collapse. Abruptly the sound stopped, once again leaving the town silent.
A faint light could be seen around the corner ahead of Richard, and as he cautiously rose and watched. A blueish glowing object, too bright to make out the shape of, paused at the corner of a building, a sign of a mirror hanging in front of the door.
After the light seemed to watch him for about a minute, it suddenly leapt forward in a bee-line for Richards position. It scrapped against the side of the mirror shop, only for a moment, and seemingly jumped back; as if that was a horrible mistake. In place of where the object had touched the building, a gaping, smoking hole had appeared. The light reflected on the mirrors inside and lit the street up in display.
Richard flinched at the sudden bright light poured over him, and that pushed him from his frozen stare. That light was danger, and he knew it. He moved as quick as his senses would allow and sped down the street, a look over his shoulder showed the object was in pursuit.
It was quick, and he couldn't outrun it in a straight line. So without really thinking he dived left through an ally. The object was quick to follow, but avoided the walls. Exiting out the other end, Richard paused for just a second, and saw on the other side of what looked like a narrow arch shaped memorial monument, which had just enough space to slip through.
Wasting not a second, he drives himself through it and kept running, another glance back showed his pursuer unable to pass through without burning the monument down. Ahead of him was a train track, heading off to the left. He followed the tracks as they winded through the town, his breath growing heavy and his legs starting to give in.
The tracks finally left the town and led into the forest, and at the far end of the tracks was a beacon of light; a possible exit. Richard reached the edge where the flat ground turns to roots and trees, then was forced backwards despite his momentum. He landed on his back, smacking his head. Looking back up at what should be freedom, he was greeted with more lights. Hundreds of them, all blocking the way.
They didn't chase him like the other one, but just sat there, unmoving. Richard was trapped.