Lunch shouldn’t have been that exciting, really. Rose could’ve eaten at the stands with her sisters the way she usually did, but she wanted a little privacy. It was hard to stand out there selling flowers and listening to Lily completely ignoring the obvious signs of their ship sinking.
At first she was pleasantly surprised to see her new roommate was still awake, and that she might be able to learn a little more about him. Then she saw what was behind him, and was entirely overwhelmed.
Screaming usually helped when something crazy happened—which was more often than not in Ponyville. Screaming got the attention of the authorities, and gave her a second to compose herself.
The bat had opened the large package they’d had sitting in the living room, and it was… something incredible. Possibly it was the most advanced bit of magic she’d ever seen, a far-seeing spell that showed… creatures, fighting and dying in perfect clarity. He really was a guard. He has some secret assignment from the princess, and he’s watching the enemies of Equestria from afar.
“Sweet Celestia, we have to help them!” She hurried past her forgotten lunch, over to the side of the far-seeing spell. Its surface didn’t seem terribly magical to her, so it probably didn’t go both ways. Not that she’d want it to—she wasn’t the kind of pony who would go help. But Ponyville had some she could call.
The spell stopped, capturing the purple-faced creature in gigantic size and frightening visage. Like he was looking directly at her. The pony called Tracing removed his foreleg from a machine, then met her eyes. “No one is in danger.”
“What are you talking about?” She was hyperventilating now, gesturing urgently at the spell. “That thing just… hurt… whatever those are.”
He reached to the side, and the spell ended. The far-seer became just another flat surface, faintly reflecting the inside of the room. The bat rose to his hooves, watching her with—frustration? Why don’t you care? What kind of guard are you?
“This is a movie. Do you not have movies here?” He lowered his voice, but like most bats he seemed to think that his low muttering was too quiet for her. Unfortunately for him, she was still close enough. “Christ it’s like that train arrival thing from the eighteen-hundreds.”
That only confused her even more, but she didn’t question him. The bat had started pacing now, glancing between her and the television. “Look, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to… fuck it, why should I care?” More words that made no sense, though maybe he was just mispronouncing his vulgarity? That wouldn’t be very dignified and proper for a royal guard, even if he wasn’t on duty!
“I was just watching a movie. A… play. Do you have plays?”
She nodded. “You mean like… Briddleway?” She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, ponies put on costumes and… but that wasn’t a play at all! It was real!”
“No.” He settled down on his haunches, sighing deeply. She recognized that look too—like most bats, staying up during the day took effort from him. He was probably just staying up a little for the weekend. “It’s just a very convincing fake. It’s supposed to seem real, so you can enjoy the story more. But it isn’t. No one is hurt, and none of the stuff in it is real. Just pretend.”
That sounds an awful lot like what you’d say if you didn’t want to scare me. But it wouldn’t be polite to just call him a liar. She barely even knew this pony, there was no reason to suspect he wasn’t honest. Maybe she could invite him to tell the truth? “Why would you want to watch a play about creatures getting…” She swallowed, feeling sick. “Hurt? What a nightmare.”
The pony only shrugged, picking up the spell’s manipulator and settling it beside the enchanted view frame. “That’s not what it’s about, really. Movies are…” He shook his head. “I dunno, overcoming adversity? Cool special effects. It’s not about people getting killed. Okay, maybe this one is a little bit, but that’s because it’s about a villain trying to end overpopulation by killing half the life of…”
Rose backed away from him, eyes widening. Movies about… Tirek? No, worse. The purple thing wasn’t stealing magic, it was far crueler than that. “That sounds horrible. What part of Equestria makes… those?” She still wasn’t sure she believed him, but he hadn’t shown any of the usual signs of dishonesty.
“Nowhere.” He glanced towards the back door. “But thanks for telling me where this is. ‘Equestria,’ huh? Your country is a pun, that’s fantastic.” He turned for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”
“Nowhere?” She followed him to the stairs, glaring up after him. And that was the only reason she followed him, there weren’t any others. “What does that mean, Tracing? They had to come from somewhere… everything comes from somewhere!”
Things were edging far enough into the esoteric that she felt out of her depth. She needed Lyra for this conversation. Or maybe her conspicuously competent fiancé.
The bat stopped, turning towards her—and nearly falling on his face. He caught himself on the banister, flaring both wings instinctively. Like a foal, or somepony who had too much to drink. But he doesn’t smell drunk. “Tracy,” he declared, as though that meant something. “And yes, they do come from somewhere. The same place I come from, out that door.”
He pointed towards the shut door to the back of the house. “My world, your world. I know, it’s fucking confusing. I’m still trying to process it myself. But if it’s any consolation, I probably won’t be sticking around all that much. Being a horse is confusing, and I wish people wore more clothes here.”
Rose was so stunned by his response that she hardly noticed his retreat. Soon enough he was back up the stairs, and she heard his bedroom door snap shut, leaving her alone.
My world, your world. The words echoed in her head, not wanting to stick.
But by the time she decided to argue, the bat was already gone. From as exhausted as he sounded, he’d probably be asleep soon, so she wouldn’t be getting any answers just now.
She should finish her lunch so she could get back to the stand, but Rose’s curiosity couldn’t be shoved aside quite so easily. Her roommate had just made a claim even more absurd than what he said about “movies.”
Rose slunk over to the second door, glancing around as though she expected somepony to be waiting there to order her to turn around before she could reach it. Her landlord had warned her against going back there—but she didn’t have to go outside, right?
I’m just going to see if I’m living with a liar, that’s all. Look through the door, see that it’s the vacant lot, and I’m done.
Rose pushed the door open, staring beyond at the inner hallway. There was very little to see, just a drab tile hallway leading to a door. The window beside it was a little too fancy for the back of the house, maybe; stained glass instead of clear. Even so, what she saw beyond was enough to give her pause.
There was no sunlight streaming through that window, exactly like the bat’s bedroom window. The same spell? Or much more likely, it supported what he said. A different world. The bat doesn’t even come from Equestria.
There was only one way to be sure, though. Rose reached the door, took the knob in her mouth, and pulled it open.
There was no vacant lot outside, no field with hidden patches of poison joke. It was the landlord who’d lied, not her roommate.
It was the dead of night out there, and a strange coastal chill drifted through to make her shiver. Even orange light came from a towering streetlamp high overhead, along with a strangely black street as wide as anything in Canterlot. Massive metal objects sat beside the street, like predators resting until their prey returned with morning.
Roseluck shut the door, then reached up to twist the deadbolt with her mouth. There was little reason to lock the door in Ponyville—if there was any crime, it was the kind of magical disaster that wouldn’t be stopped by a door.
The bat is from another world, and he’s living with me. She couldn’t have said if that made the aloof thestral more interesting to her, or just terrifying. Maybe a little of both?
Rose hurried back across the second door, wishing she could lock that one too. I’ll ask him about it when he wakes up. Maybe that’s why he’s been so unfriendly—he’s new in Equestria. If he’s from somewhere as dangerous as that movie, he’s probably terrified of everything. I would be.
Rose took another look at the seeing spell, staring at the control device. Maybe she didn’t have to wait for the bat to wake up, if she could use the magic of his world to see it.
I don’t have time for this. The flower stand needs me. Rose’s curious new roommate and her lying landlord were both worth investigating—but there was the weekend for that, she didn’t have to do it now. Daisy would want her own time for lunch, and she wouldn’t get it if Rose just didn’t go back to work.
She ate quickly, but not quickly enough for her salad not to feel soggy with dressing. She ground her teeth together in annoyance at another salad ruined. Generally it had been stress that kept her from eating, as she poked at her family’s books to try and find some bits that just weren’t there. At least this time it had been something interesting. Terrifying, yes. But if Roseluck wasn’t at least a little interested in danger, she would’ve moved away from Ponyville years ago.
She tossed most of it, and hurried back to the stand as quickly as she could. There was no danger in Ponyville today, except for the danger that they wouldn’t be selling many flowers. So far, that fear was coming true.
“You took long enough,” Lily said, as Rose slipped under the canvas roof of the stall. “Getting to know your new bat a little better?”
“Got to hurry if you want to make Hearts and Hooves day,” Daisy added unhelpfully.
Rose glared at them both, stomping one hoof. If there were any customers out front, she probably would’ve restrained herself. But as usual, there weren’t. “That wasn’t what I was doing. He’s…” She hesitated. How much should she tell them?
Anything she repeated to Lily would probably be halfway around Ponyville before the day was out. Did she really want ponies finding out she had the door to another world in her house?
Maybe the princess should know about this. Twilight would probably know what to do. But that seemed impolite—she should at least ask the landlord about it before going all the way to the princess. For all she knew Princess Twilight already knew what was going on, and some state secret was involved. That could be why she’d been given such a silly cover story, about dangerous plants growing so close to town.
“He’s what?” Lily skipped closer to her, leering. “Dark and brooding? Secretive and batty?”
“Those are stereotypes,” Rose said, stiffening. “And that’s not very nice. Besides, what’s ‘batty’ even mean? Just take your lunch break, sis. And instead of trying to play matchmaker, think of some ways to sell more flowers.”