There are many things in life that don’t exactly have a neat and tidy list of rules to follow. One doesn’t need a manual in order to clean the bedroom, nor does one have to read up a technical textbook on the subject of whether it’s called a cracker or a biscuit. In those cases, it’s alright—take five minutes of your time to learn from someone else, or just find your own way and hope it’s good enough.
But then one might encounter suddenly acquiring a new body complete with magic hitherto unfamiliar with everyone else suffering the same fate in a reality somewhat redone. What then?
Hours after the change, this was Sunset’s train of thought as she mulled over many things in her house. In the dead of night, there was no light but that of the moon penetrating the windows and seizing her in its silver, immaterial grasp.
She was sitting in front of the turned off computer, not in any mood to relax on the sofa. Hooves rubbing her forehead, making sure not to harm her horn, she let out a long-winded groan.
A cascading river coursed in her mind. What’s going to happen now? Will the world burn in the death throes of magical chaos? If not, how much of it will be burned before things get better? How many will get hurt or injured before they could get the hang of their new forms? What about those who didn’t care, perhaps happy that they have new ways of continuing their crimes by preying on the gullible in anarchy?
Ideas came and went. Could she teleport to as many places possible to give whoever a quick lesson on the pony lifestyle? Or maybe send Twilight and the rest of her friends everywhere and join them? But that meant traveling thousands of miles, and they couldn’t just teleport. Twi couldn’t do that, unlike her Equestrian self.
And it’s not like Sunset could teleport either.
Then, Sunset gasped as a simple yet genius plan surfaced: Why not make some tutorial videos on how to get through as a pony in a newly magical world?
Smiling, she rushed a hoof to her phone to tell Twilight about the project.
And realized that she couldn’t operate it with her flat hooves.
“Ngah!” and shouted more, rubbing the phone helplessly and pressing the buttons in vain. “How?! How am I—”
A pop-up appeared on the screen.
It appears that you are wearing heavy duty gloves. Super Glove Mode will be turned on. You can disable this mode in the options sidebar.
Sunset’s mouth snapped open at such convenient timing. “Well, better than nothing.”
Her phone glowed briefly, indicating that the mode was turned on.
Sunset stuck her tongue out as she painstakingly tapped out a text to Twilight. She moaned at each mispress, knowing that her hooves might make a couple more before she could press the backspace button. After a few minutes of hardship, her message formed. Don’t know if you’re awake, but if yes, give me a call. I’ve got something that’ll help everypony.
She pressed Send and began waiting for the reply.
Sunset then realized that Twi might not be able to access super glove mode so easily.
She looked at the corner of her screen, at the time there.
One A.M.
“She’ll find out.”
Sunset levitated the phone into a drawer. After closing the curtains and checking if the front door was really locked, she trotted up the stairs and slept on her bed.
It wasn’t long before tears soaked her pillow. Haunting her were the memories of a wonderful era lost in that fateful afternoon.
In the morning, Sunset and Sci-Twi met in the barren school cafeteria, sitting across the Equestrian versions of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. The sight of of many empty tables and chairs, the absence of Granny Smith or anyone else from the cafeteria staff, the sheer silence of the canteen itself while shouts, bangs, and other noises persisted outside….
Sunset levitated her camera to the table. Looking at her friends present, “Just to make sure everyone’s thinking of the same idea: We’re here to spread helpful videos on being a pony. I’ll handle the basics and the unicorn section, Pinkie Pie will take care of the Earth pony section, Rainbow Dash covers up the pegasus one, and you—” facing Twilight with a hoof twirl “—will record everything and discuss the videos with Principal Celestia so she could send it to the big guys over at MyStable and TackTube, Got it?”
The three ponies nodded while wearing their solemn frowns, even Pinkie Pie. The pink pony then smacked her hoof on the table, saying, “I’d be more than willing to help if it means nopony’s getting hurt.”
Rainbow hovered over the chair, crossing her forelegs as she flapped her wings. “I’ve already seen enough broken windows. It wouldn’t be great to see pegasi break their wings, too.”
Then, turning to Twi, Sunset told, “I’ve contacted Sparkle to come over within the month. She knows more about advanced magic than I do so she’ll have to take up that section down the line.”
Twi chuckled in a nervous fit, scratching the back of her head.
Sunset smiled. “But if you want to join me, why not bring a stand? It’ll probably be easier seeing two ponies talk instead of just me.”
In almost pure joy, Twi smiled and whinnied.
She covered her mouth, bothered by her horse noise.
Rainbow couldn’t help but hide a laugh of her own.
Sunset sighed, slouching on her chair before standing up. Everyone’s attention on her now, she pointed towards the doors and shouted, “To the halls, everypony!”
Everypony else got out of their chairs and left.
Sunset stood in the empty hall, right in front of the school’s green lockers. Seeing them harkened back some more memories, those of yesterday’s times when the worst thing that could happen was a magic monster here and a magic monster there. She thought back to those times when enjoying friendship as high school students was all there was to it.
Seeing those lockers deserted, seeing them as a pony—it made revisiting Canterlot High a bittersweet affair.
At least she had Twilight by her side. She was levitating her glasses in front of her, wiping them clean with a rag.
Rainbow and Pinkie stood quietly behind the camera, sitting down on the floor and watching the unicorns with bated breath.
Sunset breathed in, breathed out. Then, she heard the twinkle of magic as Twilight perched the glasses back on to her snout with the glow of her horn.
“I’m ready!” Twi said in the happiest tone she could assemble, though everyone could tell the worry beneath it.
Sunset made a smile for the camera, her horn glowing red along with the device. “So, in three, two, one—”
The first video covered the basics, beginning with Sunset alone in front of the lockers. She looked into the camera with a calm yet concerned look: ears raised up, eyes straight, and stance not too stiff yet not too shabby.
“Hi, there,” Sunset said, sounding serious with a not-so-serious greeting. “If you’re watching this, you’ve been turned into a magic pony. This is probably all sudden to you, so don’t panic.”
She placed both forehooves in the air for emphasis.
“Don’t.”
She put them down.
“Before you think you’ll turn back: You won’t. You can’t. It’s permanent. If you try to change it, you’ll hurt yourself a lot. Believe me, I should know. Why?”
She placed a hoof closer to the camera.
“Because I was born a pony.”
Put hoof back to the floor.
“First things first: How to walk.”
She raised her right forehoof.
“Do you feel this hoof? We’ll call it, ‘fore-right’.” She raised her left forehoof next. “This is your fore-left.” Then, she lifted one of her back legs. “And these are your hindhooves.”
Sunset put it down. “The pattern is: fore-right, back-left, fore-left, back-right, repeat.” She then said each hoof’s name out loud as she trotted at a leisurely pace, taking a few seconds to pause at each step before moving to the next one.
When that was done, she moved on to a faster gait. “If you want to gallop or run, push the ground down with your hind-left hoof which should follow immediately with your hind-right. You’ll jump a little into the air, and, as you land, you’ll have to hit one forehoof and the other one quickly. Like this.”
A cut to Sunset galloping down the hallway in slow-enough motion, hooves hitting the ground precisely as she described it.
It cut back to Sunset standing in front of the lockers. “You’ve got that? Great!” She wore a huge smile on her face, teeth glittering a bit under the sunlight from outside. “Now, let’s move on to everything else you have to learn.”
Another part of the video was about cutie marks.
“You most likely have a symbol on your flank.” She trotted forward, bringing her symbol into view. “This is a cutie mark. Ponies gain them when they figure out what makes them unique, what’s their purpose in life.” She paused. “Sometimes, it’s quite obvious—a carrot cutie mark means you like carrots or you’re involved in carrot farming. Other times, it’s a bit obscure, like my cutie mark which looks a lot like the sun.” Pausing again to look at her mark, “It can mean looking on the bright side, or delivering some shine into ponies’ lives.”
Yet another part of the video showed Sunset explaining how the change happened.
“To put it simply,” and she gestured around with her hoof: “There’s this portal in our school connected to a magical world called Equestria. One day, the portal started leaking magic onto Earth. I and my friends tried to stop it, but because of forces we could not control in time, it finished its change over all reality.”
Took a breather.
“It’s locked in place now, so it can’t change back at all—not without tearing apart the fabric of the spacetime continuum or something like that.”
She rolled her eyes, only half-knowing what she said at that last bit, but Sunset maintained an optimistic smile as she dragged a nervous Twilight into view.
“Here’s a friend of mine! Her name’s Twilight Sparkle and she’ll help me talk about magic.”
Twilight waved nervously at the camera as Sunset moved a step away.
For Sci-Twi, the floor was hers.
After a huge gasp of air, she started: “You see, magic is, at its core, an energy inherent in every single creature from Equestria and its home dimension. It comes in different shapes and forms, but we all have magic abilities to some extent. Unicorns, for example, have unicorn magic which they can use to levitate objects and cast spells via their horn.”
Her horn glowed purple, lighting up herself and the floor below. The magic twinkle also appeared, ringing.
“However,” Twi said, shaking her head since she knew what to say next, “this isn’t the kind of magic where you say a few words and you can do whatever you want. Real magic follows a lot of rules and principles. One mistake and you won’t just end up with flopping the spell or whatever equivalent it is for pegasi and Earth ponies. It could have devastating side effects!”
“Psst!”
And the camera whirled around to face Sunset who’d floated it out of the stand.
“You’re not supposed to be scaring them!”
Deciding that Wallflower should not have a monopoly on blushing, Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry!”
When it came to assisting fresh Earth ponies, Pinkie Pie brought with her that innocent enthusiasm. This became all too clear when she jumped up into the camera’s view, throwing confetti around.
“Good morning or afternoon or evening!” Pinkie screamed, the camera capturing her dithering tongue. “My name’s Pinkie Pie! You might be thinking, ‘Oh, you’re that pink girl from Canterlot High!’ Well, you’re wrong because I’m a Pinkie Pie but not that Pinkie—”
“Keep it short!” whispered Twilight who was operating the camera out of sight.
Discounting the three-word advice, Pinkie rubbed her forehooves together, eyes on the camera and her future audience. “So, if you’re here, you’re an Earth pony! You might think it’s so boring because you can’t fly or do all those wizard stuff like you see in the movies—or books, but whatever!” She raised both forehooves in the air, throwing more confetti and littering the floor that way. “Earth ponies are awesome!”
“Pinkie!” came another whisper from Twilight, somewhat harsher this time. “We have to keep it short for them! They can’t watch a thirty minute—”
“Number one,” Pinkie said, holding up one hoof to represent one finger, “Earth ponies are probably the closest you get to the horses you have here—no, had here,” pointing at the floor below. “You don’t have to worry about taking care of extra limbs,” pointing at her torso where her imaginary wings resided, “nor do you have to memorize tons of spells,” pointing at her forehead where her imaginary horn was. Resting her hoof, she concluded, “You’re a simple, down-to-earth...um, Earth pony!”
An audible groan from Twilight. “Can you go straight to the explanation?”
“Pfft!” and Pinkie shoved a hoof to the air. “Sure, Twilight Pile Height!”
“...Pile Height?”
Pinkie pulled a graph out of a locker and presented it to the camera. “Earth ponies are strong and good in common sense!”
Twilight smacked herself on the head.
“We Earth ponies have our own kind of magic. We may not control the weather or be able to do flashy stuff, but we control dirt!”
“Pinkie, you’re not help—”
The pink pony put the graph down on the floor, forcing Twilight to aim the camera at it. “You see, a lot of us are farmers or greenskeepers. If you have a cutie mark in a plant-related thing, you’re good with plants. Me? I used to work at a rock farm, and I can still do this!”
She held the graph close to the camera’s lens.
A seedling sprouted from the paper.
Twilight had her mouth open in pure shock, eyes twitching as she had witnessed what she just witnessed. “D-Did you just—”
Rainbow tapped her on the side. “She’s Pinkie. Let her be.”
Twilight’s look of surprise gave way to one of mundane awareness. “Should’ve known.”
For the untried and untested pegasi, Rainbow Dash was the host, and her introduction was no less than astonishing: She flew into the scene, leaving behind a little rainbow trail as the wind flapped her mane about.
“What’s up?” she greeted, closing her wings. Pumping her chest, “I’m Rainbow Dash, experienced flier with these bad boys—” opening her wings to show them off “—which means I’m qualified to help you new pegasi out there!”
Twilight gave her a little frown from behind the camera. “Shouldn’t you be less...self-promotive?”
Rainbow leaned her head to the side to look at Twilight. “They have to trust an expert, and I’m an expert.”
Twilight rolled her eyes, remembering that Rainbow was a member of some kind of Wonderbolt organization. “Fine. Continue.”
Rainbow snickered before reverting to her confident smile for the record. “I know it’s weird to have six limbs instead of four. I’ll get you up to speed on that.”
She took a few steps forward and opened one wing, getting it under the camera’s high-quality scrutiny.
“These are wings, as you know,” Rainbow said. “I’m not gonna give you a biology lesson, but just to lend a hoof: These are feathers,” pointing at the blue feathers on her wing. She then pointed at the end of her wings which had longer feathers than the rest. “These are your primary feathers, and their tips are your wingtips or your pinions. They’re the closest you get to hands because I can do stuff like hold a cup.”
Out of view, Sunset levitated a cup enveloped in her red glow. She brought it to Rainbow’s wing and the cup’s red glow disappeared, dropping onto the pegasus’s pinon. Rainbow closed her eyes, holding the cup’s weight. “See?”
Sunset levitated the cup out of the wing and out of the scene.
After a minute or so of describing the typical wing which included opening and closing a locker with her pinions, she went to the exciting part: flying.
She took a few steps back then spread both her wings. “Since you’re pegasi, you can ‘feel’ the air more. I don’t have to explain it. You’re feeling it now.”
A pause for dramatic effect, wings still open.
“Think of it like swimming,” she continued, wriggling her wingtips, “except you’re inside air, not water.”
She took a huge breath in, readying herself for the first step.
“Let’s start with flapping your wings once.”
And she flapped her wings once, her hooves barely getting off the ground before dropping to the floor.
“You’re supposed to feel lighter after that,” Rainbow spelled out. “If you’re not, you’re doing it wrong. Gotta straighten those wings up or whatever.” Then, spreading her wings again, “Once you’re comfortable with one flap, try two.”
She flapped twice, getting higher and staying in the air longer. She drifted back to the ground again.
“After that, try doing more flaps in a row. Three, four, five...before you know it, you can stay afloat for as long as you want!”
With that, she flapped her wings and kept flapping them, hovering in the air.
Eliciting a strange look from Twilight as lessons on bird flight came to her mind and contradicted Rainbow’s lessons.
“But, you gotta move around when you’re flying, right?” Rainbow continued, moving on fast. “This is where traditional flying comes in.” Paused to catch her breath, cocking her head to the side while still hovering. “We’ve been doing light flaps to stay in one place. All you gotta do to really fly anywhere is to put in more force in your wingflaps.”
So she flapped her wings harder, the camera logging the louder wingbeats as she flew to one end of the scene and then the other.
“Do it slowly,” she said while drifting in the air, “adding more strength until you find your ‘walking’ pace.” Then, shaking her head, “Don’t use all your strength at once. Otherwise, you’ll crash into a window or something like that.”
Upon finishing that warning, she cringed, her teeth in a rattle.
Twilight shook her head, thinking that these ponies weren’t taking this video project seriously.
Then again, Pinkie and Rainbow were smiling and treating the whole thing in such lively style. Maybe that’s their way of saying, “Welcome to this new life. We’re here to help you.”
That thought made her smile.
Finally, Sunset returned to view to take humans-turned-unicorns under her wing.
Which might not be the best thing to say, considering that she had no wings.
“If you’re a unicorn, congratulations!” She grinned the warmest grin she could rally up, stretching across the width of her face without looking bogus. “You’ve moved into the realm of magic as you may know from fantasy novels. Of course, actual magic’s different from fiction.”
She relaxed her shoulders and darkened her grin into a troubled frown. “I know it’s scary, suddenly being able to lift things with your mind and having the capacity to cast spells. You don’t know what you’re capable of and maybe you’ve already fired a spell on accident. It’s terrifying—this whole thing is terrifying—but that’s why I’m here for you.”
She took a step forward, her comforting smile taking up more of the video.
“I know what it’s like to change to an alien world. It wasn’t for the best of reasons, but that didn’t make the change any easier for me.” She turned her head to the side, reminiscing on her wicked past. Then, overcoming that, she faced the audience, picturing those former humans horrified at what had happened to them. “Now that this world has become alien to you, the best I could do is to return the favor—”
Shook her head, hating the choice of words.
“No. It’s not returning the favor.”
She lifted her head up, eyes becoming wet. What were these poor unicorns going through right now? Images of running through the streets, hiding behind walls for fear of being questioned, only just getting away with the most complex of lies she’d concocted in her first few weeks on Earth—these came running back to her, these remnants of an unsure life steeped in villainous planning.
Deja vu closed in. She felt like she was on the opposite side of things. Once a malevolent manipulator trying to get by in a new world, now the benevolent friend helping many get by in their own world.
Was it sympathy? Or, better still, empathy?
“Uh, Sunset?” Twilight spoke up.
Instead of jerking or jolting up in place, Sunset Shimmer simply smiled.
Facing the camera.
“I’m doing this because I care for you. I can’t change things back to the way they were, but the best I can do is to guide you whatever way possible.”
Only then did a tear stream.
Once the heartwarming introduction was over, she proceeded to unicorn magic.
She started by pointing at her horn, direction attention there. “This is your horn. This is where all your magic is concentrated and turned into an active force—and, yes, a big chunk of unicorn magic is done with the mind.”
Her horn glowed red.
“A common beginner mistake is to focus too much,” Sunset added, tugging her mane with a hoof. “For key skills like levitation, don’t overthink. Just picture anything floating to you.”
Horn still glowing, that magic twinkle was heard.
“When your horn starts glowing,” Sunset continued, the twinkling becoming louder, “you’ll feel like it’s heating up. That’s your horn using up energy, so don’t freak out.”
A cup floated into view, glowing red as well and staying above the ground thanks to the unicorn’s magic.
“The heavier the object, the more concentration you need to levitate it. Still, don’t overconcentrate. That can lead to painful outbursts that can damage you and those around you.”
Then, she placed the cup back behind the camera with her magic, making it disappear from the video.
“You can also use it to push and pull stuff around, like open this locker.”
She looked at one of the lockers behind her, glowed her horn red with the locker’s handle as well, and opened the compartment, revealing nothing inside.
Her horn stopped glowing.
Sunset turned to the camera again.
“Once you get the hang of that, you can learn the rest.”
With everything recorded, Twilight trotted up the stairs onto the next floor.
In the hall, nothing but lockers, walls, and doors.
She stood there, stood still there.
Imagined people walking down, carrying bags and papers, talking about some upcoming quiz or what to do when the weekend came. Not even after incidents like the Battle of the Bands or the Friendship Games was magic discussed for long. Over time, it had become something accepted, perhaps even expected. Seven students who also took care of magic problems once in a while? That was OK—say, what kind of pie was available for Soarin? And, just like that, the topic shifted away like the weather.
Then, ordinary life shattered.
Classes had been suspended indefinitely. Canterlot High, Crystal Prep, Everton—it wasn’t just the schools and universities. Almost everywhere, lifeless and hollow shadows reigned, lone steps of journeycreatures echoing out of rooms—if there were any of them journeying about to begin with. Most of them were panicking anyway, narrowly avoiding destruction while causing destruction themselves.
Her mind went back to the news on TV. The reporter looked frazzled and dazed—he only had half an hour to get used to his new body before having to broadcast the most serious news piece in history. The camera had waved around erratically every minute or so—one time, it fell to the floor, delaying everything.
There were no commercials. All cartoons and other entertainment shows had been shafted. Surfing through the channels, Twilight had found the great majority of them reduced to black-and-white noise.
Radio had found better luck albeit it wasn’t much. It’d sounded the same, though that made the whinnies and squeals all the more noticeable.
Then, she remembered the ponies themselves. A unicorn Micro Chips scampering for safety inside his house, a battered Earth pony Octavia crying on Vinyl Scratch’s shoulders beside the cello she’d deemed unplayable, a pegasus Spitfire with a bruised head and a broken wing poorly bandaged as the adhesives fluttered in the wind, Twilight’s own family now one of unicorns plagued by magic blasts out of nowh—
“Twilight?”
Her eyes went wide.
She whirled around and saw Principal Celestia standing behind her, elegant in that royal alicorn form as her mane and her tail waved and moved on their own.
The student shuddered. She kneeled before the principal.
Celestia sighed out of embarrassment, putting a hoof on Twilight’s chin. “You don’t have to do that.”
Twilight shivered before the sun-controlling authority before her, standing back up on her four hooves. “I-I’ve brought the c-camera,” and levitated said camera into view. “You can s-send the files online!”
“...which would be a problem since internet’s spotty,” Celestia said, a small smile on her face. “It’s coming back, but still not enough for me to securely send it. I’ll just bring this myself; I’m sure Sunset wouldn’t mind.”
“Uh, n-no, she wouldn’t!” she replied, growing unhinged as her voice went sing-song. “Actually, she thought you’d send it yourself, too, but I thought that was crazy t-talk!”
Celestia looked down on her student. “What’s wrong?”
Twilight’s breathing quickened, feeling her heart beat faster and faster. “Um, uh—”
“Sister!” cried out Luna from downstairs. “Are you not preparing thyself for Gestal of Griffonstone tonight?”
The Princess of the Sun let out another sigh, this one of unease. Then, she gave a long look at Twilight who had been observing her this whole time. “Would you like me to accompany you down?”
Twilight shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m just...contemplating….” as she looked upon nothing in particular.
Celestia said nothing as she took the first step down the stairs. Thinking that Twilight shouldn’t be left off without a proper goodbye, she bent her neck and said, “It was nice seeing you, Twilight.”
The unicorn snapped out of it with a gasp, eyes dancing in confusion before settling on Celestia.
She giggled anxiously before saying, “Nice seeing you, too! Have a-a good day!”
And Celestia went down.
Those hoofsteps disappeared.
Twilight stood alone in that hallway.
It was now up to Celestia to spread the videos to the whole world.