It started almost a decade ago. News spread about a local high school’s secret portal to some parallel dimension populated by our alter egos but they're weird talking animal creature things. Said dimension overflowed with magic, stuff ripped from fantasy novels. You know how it all began, Desk: something to do with this camp counselor berserking with magic. An otherworldly stowaway plus a pony princess decided they couldn’t hide magic’s existence from us Earthies any longer.
Of course, with a new world comes new people... er, creatures to meet. Many of us watched the news for Equestria updates, see what those magic horses and what not are doing. However, a few took the extra mile: traveling to meet with their governments and also helping adventurous Equestrians into Earth for our governments.
I was in my last year of college, and my institution was desperate to be on the forefront of everything. Aside from promoting warp drives way too early, they wanted a slice of the Equestrian pie. After a couple deals with their magic counterparts and seven governments’ approval stamps, they boasted having an “all-expenses paid internship in Equestria! Gain inter-dimensional work experience and help unite the two worlds into a friendship for all time!”
It was also advertised as the alternative to a thesis. When you can get paid hanging out with real-life unicorns, why stick with an old-fashioned paper?
I went to the college’s newly-established inter-dimensional department. Had to be an early worm to skip the 10 A.M. lines. When I arrived, there's only one person: a bored clerk.
“Um… where’s everyone?” I asked, confused but secretly happy I could get all the paperwork done now.
“Not here,” she replied, pointing at me. “You’re the first.”
“That’s… strange.” I didn’t anticipate an empty room. I’d prepared for a noisy crowd. “I thought everyone would be fighting for a spot.”
“That was true,” she said... “until they saw the waivers.”
“Waivers? Heh-heh! Can’t be that bad, right?” I'd deliberately ignored waivers. Ordinary people fall into those magic worlds just fine in the novels.
Many died in those novels, but I didn't think that through.
She took out a stack of papers, enough to classify as a weapon. The clerk read out to me: “’McKimblewick University will not be held responsible for all forms of injury, loss, and liabilities which include suffering magic overabsorption, being eaten by a manticore or a cragadile or any other such magic creature, enslavement by a powerful evil, being thrown into a volcano or being subject to highly dangerous potions and/or spells, being ripped apart by inter-dimensional anomalies—‘“
Maybe that’s why. It's a little risky. Slight chance I might die. Or get killed.
I applied anyway. The clerk was certainly separating the wheat from the chaff, the brave from the cowards.
“Or were you too cowardly to do your thesis?” Desk asks smugly.
I give him a dirty look. “OK, that’s one reason.”
He rolls his eyes. I can tell from his drooping eyelids he’s on the way to getting tipsy… is his glass almost done? Must be a heavy drinker.
“OK, where was I?… oh, right—“
After I got everything signed, I went back to my dorm to brag about my accomplishment.
My friends were less enthusiastic than expected.
“Are you crazy?!” one of them yelled at me.
“You’re gonna get yourself magicked!” another said, whatever that meant.
“We know it’s a cool new world out there,” one more said, “but do you even have a back-up plan in case something bad happens to you?”
To them all, I replied, “Well, what could go wrong?”
“Everything!”
“… which is why I’ll attend the preparatory classes for the job! Safety makes the explorer, after all!”
“More like an adrenaline-junkie,” sneered one of those dear friends.
We certainly had our differences. Nevertheless, they ended up tolerating me, though they begged me to stay safe and to write back. Anything to keep in touch and to let them know I wasn’t mauled by a rock bear yet.
In the meantime, I took those preparatory classes. Brushed up on concepts like job shadowing, got a primer on international relations, and had a crash course on how Equestria worked. The first two I put in the back of my mind; I know they’d be useful, but when the time came, when the time came…
As for that last one, that’s what I loved the most—or at all. We learned the basics of Equestrian culture, how the neighbors fared beyond the borders along with their current political climates, the ABCs’ of magic and other fantasy elements that weren’t fantasies anymore. All I could think of was that each day brought me closer into this new world.
I started seeing more Equestrians and other magic beings roaming around on this side of the portals. Also more humans hopping over to the other side: first ambassadors, then heads of state, then companies’ PR teams.
Rare was the simple tourist during those days. One time, though, a passing pegasus waved. I waved back, then got nervous if I was just being awkward. Not a good first impression to an other-worlder, but I’ll take it.
Months passed. Before I knew it, classes were over and my internship was about to begin. I gave my aging father a visit, and he gruffly told me, “Don’t mess this up, kid.” I gave my friends and my professors a public goodbye even though my would-be co-workers yanked me away so I wouldn’t be an embarrassment.
After a short van trip, we reached the makeshift Equestrian Embassy which wasn’t a pretty sight back then: tall scaffolds and unpainted walls instead of the fancy Grittish house-like facade today.
The guards quickly ushered us through the door, told us to move fast so outsiders wouldn’t see our faces. Security reasons, I believe.
When we got in, we saw Equestrians everywhere: ponies scribbling away and recording stuff with their hooves and wings and horns, taking phone calls and serving coffee and cleaning the floor. Only a handful of humans were present, and they only served as sideliners to the ponies on front.
A suited mare came over to us, beaming with a ridiculous smile. “Oh, are you the McKimblewick interns?”
We had the name of the university on our clip-on IDs. She didn't have to ask.
She took one of our IDs to her hooves.
“Ah, yes you are! How wonderful to have you here! You must be so excited to have Equestrian job experience on your resumés! Follow me!”
So we did, going downstairs onto the basement floors. Meanwhile, she gabbed on about our great privilege, becoming pioneers in cultivating inter-world friendship and what not.
She led us into a big chamber where more ponies toiled, doing more paperwork and checking all sorts of Earth news. We must’ve annoyed their flow since they stared at us humans.
At the other side of the room was Canterlot High’s old horse statue.
Here it was: the portal, the gateway to another world where I could work with magical creatures... and it'd count towards my degree! I had goosebumps everywhere.
“… and as you see,” said our guide, “this is where we house the portal. You already know from the news and the pictures you have on those nifty phones of yours, but it’s great to see it up close, no?”
She rattled off more info about the portal: It wouldn’t turn us into ponies because Princess Twilight Sparkle modified it to help retain “cultural integrity” between the two worlds. There’s already more like it all over Earth and bigger ones would be made to accommodate more traffic years later. It’s also totally safe. No need to be afraid of getting ripped apart by inter-dimensional anomalies.
She also had that lengthy waiver by her side. Doing her best to assure us, and she’s off to a great start.
“So are you ready to begin your internship in Equestria?” she finally asked.
I bet the others just nodded with a humble smile. I must've grinned too wide—the mare winced in my direction.
“Well... alrighty, then!” She stepped aside to give us a clear path to this whole other dimension. “One at a time, and be sure to slow down while security checks you.”
So we formed a line, readying ourselves for the border crossing of a lifetime. One by one, those ahead stepped into the statue portal and disappeared.
I was nervous. Very nervous. I didn't want to mess this up, I didn't want to mess anything up.
It's my turn. I stopped right before the portal, got frisked by a few guard ponies in armor. Once they cleared me, I had the green light to go.
I gulped, staring at the portal—or the wall of marble. It didn't look out of the ordinary, but I'd seen people go into it like it was nothing! They looked so confident! Totally nothing to worry about there.
“Move, ya’ jerk!” a fellow intern cried out behind me. Calm down, buddy.
I took one huge breath.
To get rid of my fears, I pretended I had a death wish. Silently thanked everyone who'd been in my life even though they wouldn't hear me. They probably thought I was stupid to risk life and limb just to avoid a thesis.
I closed my eyes and jumped into the portal. Maybe screaming for dear life.
“What was the portal trip like back then?” Desk asks.
“Oh, not like today.” I pour more beer into my glass. “Walk through and you’re done? No! I felt like getting ripped apart in a rainbow rollercoaster, 'bout to puke—“
“But you’re not ripped apart, right?” he asks more. Asks dumbly, but some ponies take pride in their innocent image, so I don't know.
I stare him down. “’Cause I’m still here, ya’ jerk.”
I usually would mind calling someone a jerk, but I figured this would be fine. Not being sober would help anyone into the jerk label.
I'm not too drunk to continue the story for Desk. Don't feel it at all. I just started. Wouldn't be nice to leave him hanging.
After that doozy of a trip through rainbow space, I fell out the other side. I would've crashed were it not for something... warm? Tingly? Light?
I realized I wasn't touching the ground.
“Stay still, mister,” a voice rang out.
I opened my eyes to see a unicorn, her horn glowing. I didn't see her levitate anything, though... which meant that she was levitating me.
Was this magic?
Being dropped to the floor helped me find answers since I wasn't opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish. The colors were much brighter here, saturated to cartoonish levels. Not a dull shade in sight... and my eyes were already sick of it.
“Alright, follow me,” the unicorn said, and she turned around, trotting away.
I tried to follow her. I found out I'd been lying on the floor the whole time.
As I got up, blinking my eyes fast to get rid of the probably magic irritation, I took stock of my surroundings: crystal lanterns with green fire, stained glass windows above us, pegasi watching me from above too and recording stuff on their clipboards.
I also noticed the thickness of the air… OK, maybe not thick. Tense but in a good way. Was this magic too? I remembered that's what they called it: magic turbulence. Fancy term for when a magic world acclimatizes a being from a magicless world. The definition sounded dry, but now I was dazed and confused by this... turbulence thing.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
I said I was just fine... but I felt something in my stomach. Something rising there. I could feel the butterflies in my chest. Something I can’t contain, can’t keep in myself. I burst out:
I lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-ve—
Got zapped before I finished the line.
“Shush!” and the unicorn kindly whacked me on the head.
“Ow! Why’d you do that?!”
She flicked her tail. Must've been put out. “There are ponies working here who don’t appreciate bad singing, mister.”
“Hey! Rude much.”
“Says the one who forgot to keep the turbulence under control.”
I didn’t remember out-of-nowhere musicals being part of magic turbulence. I recalled how ponies were a sang a lot though. They bust out songs at the drop of a hat. Maybe I was already succumbing to the magic. Felt embarrassed really quickly.
Maybe I would get magicked out here. Still, I’d already taken the step, so, no, I wasn’t backing out.
As I followed her through the crystal halls, I struggled to walk. Felt like trudging through clouds. After waiting for her to cool down, I asked her about that, and she told me to remember something from the guide… but then she said it's also turbulence. She went on and on about thaumic fields, adaptation spells, a list of safety rules for ponies so they don’t accidentally teleport us into the aether… incomprehensible magibabble, but for my sake. What a nice soul.
After more walking, we arrived in a conference room of more crystal walls. Some of my batchmates were there, sitting before an empty stage.
The pony escorted me to my seat and I sat down beside a partner in crime. The crime of being brave enough to be in Equestria, that is.
“How was it?” he asked.
As an average tween would go, I tried to play it cool. I crossed my arms. “Could've been better.”
I looked around. No one else was there besides us and a couple pony guards. Had to wait for the rest of our batch.
Slowly, more chairs got occupied. Ice broke and the room got louder. Chatter's all about our first impressions of this crazy world. I overheard one of us say it's just like that one bedtime story but a lot more grown up.
When the room was full, the lights dimmed. The spotlight aimed at the stage.
I heard clip-clopping from backstage.
My blood pressure went up. None other than Princess Twilight Sparkle had come up the platform. I'd only seen her in photos and TV before. Now she was here, one of the most powerful ponies in the land, standing a few meters away from my easily-blastable face. If she caught me squirming like a worm... hoped she'd lecture me, not punch my face. Or blast my face.
Back to what really happened: I couldn't forget the first words she said to us.
“Good morning, everybody, and welcome to Equestria! I trust you made it all safe and sound, right?”
“It was a speech to help us ease into Equestria,” I tell, remembering her I’m-so-excited-to-meet-more-new-creatures face.
“So what else do you remember from it?” Desk asks. Probably curious about what I thought of being so close to pony royalty.
“Heh... nothing much, sadly. She's just there to encourage us 'cause she's been in our shoes before.
"Anyway—after the speech, she accompanied us outside.”
If a castle's inside irritated my eyes, the outside assaulted them. The sun's glaring light beat down on me. The greener-here grass soothed them, only for everything else to shine with flooding sparkles.
Maybe I had to have a visual beating to appreciate relief. When my eyes adjusted, I saw a splendid landscape, a children's book come to life. A cozy little village full of cottages lay ahead, ponies trotting on simple dirt paths with a few pulling carriages. Even an average-sized dragon flew by! Soft and stylized clouds dotted the sky, and I watched a pegasus push a cloud into position. There's a huge farm on the side—never saw much of them in big city Canterlot... and speaking of Canterlot, there hung Equestria's Canterlot from the mountains.
Yeah, it was pretty cool. I congratulated myself for nabbing a fun and easy A (or A-) on my report card. Just imagine when we returned to Earth! Surely those who'd turned down this opportunity would be jealous of us non-thesis writers!
Even now, all eyes were on us. Pony journalists snapped pictures of us from the side. The newness of hairless bipeds still sold money on their newspapers back then. (Didn't they call us mini-minotaurs at one point?)
We entered Ponyville proper and more ponies looked our way. They observed us like exotic specimen while Twilight led us into town hall. A bit of privacy for the actual work, you know.
Once in the main room, we about-to-be interns gathered around as Twilight and her clerk friends sorted out the papers. She called out our names one at a time. They'd go up, Twilight would tell them they’re assigned to a metalaw attorney here or a museum curator there, then they'd follow this or that pony to their new job's meeting place for further instructions.
I waited. I got nothing. So did a few others. When all's over, the room was just the four of us plus the ponies.
“Huh? That doesn't sound right!” Twilight said, confused and scratching her horsehair. A head of state scratching her hair didn't bode well.
She re-read our paperwork. With a frown, she told us we simply didn’t have the ideal positions available. “You can try selling sofas and quills... but I’m sure you want something weightier than that!”
That's when Twilight thought of a brilliant idea. Turned out there's a diplomatic meeting by the dragons; the Dragon Lord herself would be there. (Explained that one dragon I saw.) There's a chance some random important creature would snatch us for help as long as the dragons had business here. Also, one of the meeting's aims was to understand human culture with Equestria's help, so we could also provide assistance with, well, our human culture... 'cause we lived in it all the time, don'tcha know?
We got out through the backdoor. Followed a hasty Twilight to an open field just outside town. Tables and chairs were littered on the grass with a few balloons there to lighten up the mood. Also there was a buffet table of food and gems.
And here there were dragons. Not too big, not rubbing their claws and threatening us, but still dragons. Fangs, scales, heat radiating from their bodies—that kind of dragon.
I and what's left of our batch looked at each other, terrified for our lives. None of us knew what we’re getting into with these dragons. All we knew: they came for diplomacy and understanding humans. They're also aggressive. Also could breathe fire and burn us to a crisp.
“Just remember to take your seats,” the princess reminded us, “and—“
“Twilight!”
We turned around. It's a pegasus friend coming her way, I guess. Looked familiar.
“Just got news that someone fell down the mirror pool!”
The calm and collected princess gasped. “Wait... are we talking about Line Drop? The one assigned to mirror portal production?”
“I don't know, Twi! You're the one who put him there!”
Twilight whirled to us with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, but I gotta go! Really important business to take care of with Rainbow! Just stay safe!”
They're off, flying to save our poor friend. Wish I got to know Line Drop more. Hardly knew him.
Twilight also forgot to provide a substitute for herself.
In short: we were alone with a bunch of dragons oddly staring at us.
We stared at each other. Waited for the other side to speak first.
One minute was too long for me, so I waved at them and grinned as wide as I could.
“Sight, you're gonna kill us!” said my very concerned internmate.
“Roll with it, Blue Streak. Royalty put us here, so we gotta act natural.”
“Smiling like that is not na—“
I was brave enough to approach the dragons’ tables with a wave and my silly smile. The others had no choice but to follow me, though their smiles probably weren't that big. Or that unnatural.
The dragons didn’t say anything. They still stared at us fools.
Time to take this a step further.
There were some empty seats. To ensure things didn’t get any more awkward, I chose a table with only one dragon and one vacant chair. I sat there, made myself comfortable.
I extended my hand for a handshake—OK, limbshake—being an example to my friends and giving this nice dragon a positive first impression of humanity.
“Good day!” I said, stamping out my fears by being as stupid as possible.
The dragon blinked, gazed awkwardly upon my hand. We shook hands—er, hand and claw.
“My name's Sight See,” I continued, “one of today’s inter-dimensional interns. McKimblewick pride here, yes siree!” (No, I didn’t slap my knee.) “May I ask what's your name?”
She blinked again. Her face scrunched up in confusion. Probably confusion.
“I'm Ember,” she replied in a rough voice. She didn’t sound kind, but she also didn’t sound irritated. Good start.
“Ah, and what do you do? Like, what's your job?”
That’s when she crossed her arms. “I'm the Dragon Lord.”
OK. She was the Dragon Lord. The Dragon Lord. Ruler of all dragons. All those dangerous fire-breathing dragons.
I kept smiling for myself and for my friends who were politely hand signaling to me to get out of there.
“So you're ruler of the dragons?” I asked. Gotta admit, I was lucky my cavalier attitude didn't get me incinerated.
“Yes, I'm the ruler of the dragons.” She smirked with those happy fangs.
I planted my feet on the grass to not show any weakness whatsoever.
So I could be a bolder or dumber example to the other interns-in-waiting, I kept talking. “So, um, do you need something? You're here for, well, humans, too, right?”
Should've phrased it better. Otherwise, she'd literally serve humans.
Ember blinked at me weirdly. “... yes?” She looked past my shoulder.
I turned and saw my friends standing fifteen feet away, horrified at me for pushing the envelope too far.
“I forgot! These are my companions,” while I gestured to them, though they looked even more horrified that Ember was looking at 'em.
I kept going. “Actually—ahem!—we're wondering if there is anything we could do to help you and your dragons, especially with regard to understanding human culture better.” Still sounding cool and not scared so far.
Ember scratched her chin. Her smile disappeared.
I leaned back, wondering what was going to happen next. Leaping away and running in zigzags always worked against human robbers. Against dragon robbers... eh, they can fly and shoot fireballs at you.
Ember told me, “Yeah, sure. I could use a helping claw—ugh, a helping hand.” She groaned. A dragon's groan was more like a rumble, I found out.
“But we didn't plan that!” said another dragon from an adjacent table.
“Well, it's final!” Ember shouted.
I fell from my chair, heard screams from the other interns, hit my head on the ground, had my ears ringing.
Embarrassing myself in front of the Dragon Lord? Least of my worries. Now the dragon aggression I'd heard about came in full force. I forgot all formality. I was truly scared. I was hiding behind my chair. What if she burned me in her anger? Blamed me for making her subjects talkative? Sent me to the dragon dungeon where they filled the room with lava 'till I died?
Instead, I opened my eyes to see a scaly arm reaching out to me. It was Ember's.
“Uh, here.”
Didn't expect a mean dragon to help me.
“Sorry to disturb you,” she continued after she got me back on my two feet, “but that's how we really are. Most of the time.” My worst fears were realized and it hadn't been half an hour.
She was smiling again. I wasn't sure if it's because she could be her proud, mighty self and do away with diplomatic politeness. Maybe so. Hard to think of a polite dragon who said please every two minutes.
I noticed the dragon she'd told off, cowering behind his table. I calmly asked (hiding my shivering teeth) if he was alright. She told me he'd be alright. Dragons were usually a tough stock, she said.
Looking back again, I saw my friends silently mouthing, “Please, Sight See, leave! You're gonna die!”
Yes, there was a good chance I was gonna die thanks to my stubbornness. The logical thing to do was to politely end the conversation and return to my huddle of familiar humans.
“So what's the task here?” I asked, throwing logic out the window.
Ember rolled her eyes, which surprised me since it looked weird on a dragon. “I don’t know. Human manners, how your tech works, some advice on how to treat your kind… also manual labor if you can carry a ton of sulfur without wheezing. Can you?”
“Um...”
“Eh, I’ll take it.”
So we finalized the deal even though it was all Ember’s doing and I didn’t have a single word on it.
“How about all of you?” she asked my co-workers who met her with uneasy smiles. “I could use all the help I could get to understand this weird humanity thing. It’s for trade, building those embassy thingies… whatever allies do.”
Let’s say they declined the offer. One ran away in fear.
“Seriously?” Ember sounded mad. We already knew how a mad dragon behaved. We’re on edge now. “Come on! I promise I won’t bite! We don’t eat ponies anymore!”
They shifted their eyes around like goldfish, looked for a way out. Anymore wasn't all that assuring.
“I’m back!”
That was Twilight. We completely missed her approach since she arrived from above.
“You don’t have to worry about your friend Line Drop!” she began after she landed. “He’s fine!”
Her eye caught Ember. She nodded at her and she saw me standing beside the Dragon Lord.
“Oh! Sight See! I… um, see you’re already under Ember’s wing!”
“It’ll be my pleasure to help him,” she said, pointing at me like I was someone to be shown off.
Twilight noticed my friends again. Or what was left of them after being shaken to the core by the Dragon Lord and my insanity. Her ears drooped—a sign of sadness, I presumed. “Oh. I still see the stigma dragons have back on Earth.”
“Stigma?” Ember raised a brow, acting sassy. “Good to see our proud reputation across worlds.”
While they talked, I considered my options, all zero of them. If I’d only kept my mouth shut... but now, I didn’t know what being Ember’s new human assistant would mean. I wished it was shadowing her along, giving her tips on how to deal with humans while she taught me how dragons lived their lives—all while doing something safe like updating records for her kingdom. Preferably inside a high-security room.
As for the rest of my interns-to-be, Twilight said she’d accompany them back to the hall to consider other options. They’d been adamant on saying no to Ember’s offer. A part of me wanted to be with them for not-dying reasons, but I couldn’t back out now.
Before they left, Twilight asked if I was definitely sure on working for Ember. I curtly said yes and she went off.
There I stood, alone in a gathering of dragons with their Dragon Lord standing beside me, smiling at her acquisition.
Ember grabbed me on the shoulder, her grip heavy and stinging. Took all I could to not yelp in pain.
“Ready to get some work experience on the hard rugged ground? ‘cause I’m taking you to the Dragon Lands!”
Wished I could run away screaming.