I awoke with a start, breathing heavily. I couldn’t see what time it was, but knew it must be late. Pinkie was snoring fit to awaken the buried, and Gummy was sound asleep in his little basket. I ran a hand across my face, trying to collect my scattered thoughts and remember the dream that had awakened me.
I had been standing in a blank, empty void, shrouded in mist. The surface below me was white, but lined, almost like a grid. To my left, however, there was a flat brown space, like an expanse of land with nothing on it, but there was an oddly-shaped white expanse between it and the white. As I regarded it, an odd voice I didn’t recognize spoke through the silent air, saying something about the ‘missing page’. A missing page? What did that mean?…
And then, suddenly, the brown area had begun to rise up like a wave, looming over me, and even as I yelled out in my dream, it overcame me with a snap loud and heavy, and that was what had awakened me.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to make sense of it all. What happened? What had I been standing on? What had crushed me? What was this ‘missing page’ nonsense?…
After thinking about it in silence for a little more, I came to a reasonable hypothesis. With the way that brown expanse had smothered me, turning over the way it had done, it reminded me of a book closing, crushing me like an insect within its binding. But then, if it had been a book, what was the misshapen white spot between that end and what I had been standing on? It was almost like a page had been ripped out…
Why did that sound familiar?…
…My journal!
I reached over to the nightstand to pick up my glasses, then picked up the little green notebook. In the dim moonlight, I flicked it open to look at the torn edge. Was my dream trying to tell me that there was something important about that page? Someone, or something, had torn that page away, but why? Was it because there was something on it that shouldn't be read? Or was there a more innocuous reason for its absence?
How could I even find out? That page could be anywhere, for all I knew. Then again, if someone had discovered it, if it had really been something important, wouldn’t it have raised attention by now? Perhaps, after all, it wasn't anything worth worrying about at the moment.
Feeling slightly calmer, I set the book back down and checked my watch. 2 AM. Inwardly cursing my subconscious for always waiting until an ungodly hour to pull this kind of stunt, I took off my glasses and went back to sleep.
***
“You ok, Davie? You don’t look so good.”
I must not have, considering how early I’d been forced to wake up due to that dream. I was sitting across from Pinkie, as usual, at breakfast, with a plate of strawberry-topped waffles for each of us, and she was looking at me with concern.
“I’m fine, Pinkie. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”
“Aw, that’s too bad. I wish you could have been in my dream. I was whooping it up with General McMallow!”
I blinked.
“General…McMallow?”
“Yeah! I fought alongside him in the battle of Mt. Rocky Road, against the evil Pecanites, while we bravely charged forth with our Marshmallownians across the chocolaty slopes! It was a grueling and delicious battle, and a hard-earned victory, too!”
She licked her lips with the memory of such a tasty dream. I just shook my head and went back to my waffles.
Suddenly, there was a rapid, impatient knock at the door. Pinkie sprang to her hooves, and the Cakes looked up from their own breakfast.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Open up, if you please!” came a stiff, male voice.
“Sorry, we’re not open yet. Come back in a half hour!”
“In the name of Her Highness, I ask you to open up!” came the voice again.
Mr. and Mrs. Cake, upon hearing this, gasped, upsetting their coffee mugs, and rushed to the door to open it.
A pair of white pegasi, stoic by countenance and clad in gold armor, stood in the door, flanking another pony in the middle. This one was a brown unicorn with a long, iron-gray mane and a long, thin beard dangling from his chin. He had a stiff, no-nonsense expression on his face, and was dressed in a black cloak clasped at the chest with a brooch of royal appearance.
"Good morning," said the unicorn, in a clipped tone. "I am Minister Ironmane, Princess Celestia's Minister of Foreign Affairs."
“To what do we owe the honor of your company?” asked Mr. Cake, bowing.
“It has come to the attention of the royal court,” said Ironmane, “that a human has made an appearance in Equestria for the first time in many years, and that it is here in Ponyville. I have therefore come here to investigate the matter myself, on her orders, naturally. Upon inquiry by the local populace, we have been told that the human in question is sequestered in this very establishment. I wish to see it before my own eyes before I pass judgment.”
At last, his eyes fell upon me, sitting at the table looking dumbfounded at the scene unfolding.
"So," he said, solemnly, "the stories were true. Stand up so I may see you better, human. Come now, don't dawdle."
I felt inclined to refuse, as he was speaking to me as though he thought I was a dumb animal trained for that command, but I did as I was bid. Ironmane strode over and looked me from top to bottom. Though his face was like a mask of professional stoicism, there was a coldness in his eyes as they roved over me, and a pull at his thin lips that looked like they were inches away from a sneer of contempt. Also, there was an odd greenish glow surrounding his horn, as if he were sorely tempted to cast a spell upon me at the slightest provocation. Why he would react this way, I had no idea, but I figured this was not someone to mess with.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” I asked, as politely as I could.
A small “hmph” before he spoke gave me the impression that he wasn’t expecting such a polite (or even articulate) response.
“As a matter of fact, there is, human," he said, coldly. "Would you allow me to ask you a few questions? Simply a formality, you understand.”
Before I could respond, he immediately shot a series of questions at me.
“Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? To what purpose do you intend to stay?”
He rattled these off very specifically and sharply, as if intending me not to miss a single point on either of them.
“Can you handle answering that, human?”
“I’ll answer as best I can," I said, flummoxed, "but first, would you mind tuning down your horn? It’s kind of worrying me.”
“Hmm?”
He looked up at his faintly glowing horn, and in an instant, the glow vanished. He cleared his throat.
“Excuse me. I’ve had far too many encounters with unruly creatures in the span of my employ. You can never be too careful, you know.”
What, did he think I had a grenade in my pocket?
“Well, first off,” I said, still trying to stay polite, “my name is Dave.”
“Dave? Rather common name. What nationality would that happen to be?”
“Nationality? Er, what are my options?”
“Are you trying to be smart with me, human?” Ironmane asked, sternly.
“No, sir. I just don’t go into that sort of thing.”
“Hrmph," he grunted. "I see. Let’s move on, then.”
“I’m from Earth-”
“Earth? Are you quite sure?” asked Ironmane, raising an eyebrow. “From what news has been delivered to Canterlot, you apparently fell from the sky like a bird with a wounded wing. How can you possibly be from our planet if you just appeared in that fashion?”
I was beginning to feel nettled. I felt as if he were a prosecuting attorney trying to catch me off my guard.
“Well, I didn’t say I was from this Earth, sir.”
“This Earth?” he asked, his voice rising angrily. “I warned you about trying to be smart with me. What other Earths are there but this? Are you implying that you are an extra-terrestrial from another planet similarly named?”
I really didn’t like the way this guy was grilling me, and Pinkie and the Cakes were watching helplessly as well.
“I didn’t say that, sir. Although, saying what I think I mean might just make things even more awkward.”
“Can’t give a proper account for yourself, can you?” asked Ironmane, almost exactly as the mayor had asked me when I first arrived. “Very interesting…”
“As for my intention of staying, it’s only until I can find a means of getting home again.”
“Is that so? Well, for all of our sakes, let us hope that that conveyance is procured without delay. I say for all of our sakes because I have no doubt this situation is hard on you as well, having to live among civilized equines rather than your own kind.”
This unicorn was really starting to rub me the wrong way. He was speaking as if I was of a species entirely inferior to all ponies, if not simply himself. From my stay thus far, I’d assumed Equestrian ponies to be good-hearted and kind-natured, as a lot of the Ponyville ponies were, but this guy...It was all I could to not snap back at him with a snide retort.
“And just what do you know about humans, sir?” I asked, attempting to be casual.
The cold gleam seemed to intensify in Ironmane’s eyes, and the brief glimmer reappeared in his horn, just to vanish once again. He didn’t answer, but just stared at me long and hard, and I stared back, not daring to take my eyes away. At last, he cleared his throat.
“Well, then. I shall report back to Her Majesty on what I have learned from our brief little ‘interview’.”
“That I’m an extra-terrestrial who can’t say where he’s from and is living against his will in an unfamiliar society?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
Ironmane’s eyes narrowed.
“You have a sense of humor, I see. Do not get too comfortable with the idea that you’re completely off the hook, however. The eyes of Canterlot will be open to any ‘funny business’ you may attempt. Depend upon it.”
With that, he turned sharply round and strode out of Sugarcube Corner, with the guards behind him.
“Well, I never,” breathed Mrs. Cake.
“What a meanie-pants!” said Pinkie, angrily. “Picking on poor Davie like that!”
“I’m all right, Pinkie,” I said. “I just never expected to meet a pony so…unpleasant.”
“To think we’d have such an abrupt visit from one of the Princess’s dignitaries,” said Mr. Cake. “Thank goodness it was before we opened.”
“Yeah. Can you imagine what a scene it’d be for all of Ponyville to see that guy chewing me out?” I asked.
“Now, Dave,” said Mrs. Cake, gently scolding, “while I can’t approve of his attitude towards you, he is the Princess’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, so he was only doing his job.”
“I should hope that’s all it was,” I muttered to myself, but no one seemed to hear me.
“Well, sugarplum,” said Mr. Cake to his wife, “we might as well get ready for the morning rush.”
“Oh, that’s right!” said Mrs. Cake. “With that Ironmane popping in, I nearly forgot!”
The two disappeared into the kitchen, but not before Mr. Cake returned to clean up their spilled drinks.
“Come on, Davie, let’s go take a walk," said Pinkie. "The fresh air might do you good after your rough night sleeping.”
“Yeah. I probably should. Thanks, Pinkie.”
With that, the two of us left Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie going at a brisk trot, me lagging behind some paces, my head full of thoughts. Now I had two things to occupy them: the missing journal page, and that unpleasant unicorn, Ironmane. What was his problem with me? Why did he act like I was some kind of delinquent? Had he had a personal grievance against humans in the past? He'd have to be a lot older than he looked for that to be possible.
Still, maybe I was thinking about it too deeply. Maybe that was just his way of doing his job. After all, I had no idea of knowing whether or not he always acted like that on business. Nevertheless, it was a bit unpleasant, yet not wholly unrealistic, to know that not every pony was so willing to be friends with me. To be honest, I never expected to get such a warm reception in the first place. But who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? No pun intended.
In any case, that missing journal page was beginning to bug me more than ever, but what could I do? As far as I knew, nopony had found anything that would have most likely caused a public outcry if it was anything disastrous. I'd just have to keep half an eye out for anything that looked like it might have come from my notebook, but not get too obsessed about it.
On top of that, I figured I should at least earn my keep if I was going to stay at someone else’s expense. Perhaps the ponies had little jobs I could do around town to help them out, and I could even earn bits in return. That way, I wouldn’t be such a freeloader for Pinkie and the Cakes, despite their protestations to the contrary.
All of this really was food for thought, and it kept me so absorbed that I never noticed that Pinkie was far ahead, calling for me to hurry up, so I shelved my deeper thoughts and quickened my pace to stay in time with my little friend.