Forks. Washington State
“Good morning, Forks!” announced radio alarm clock. “This is your ever-present Rick Warner and Green Pine Radio. Today we are expecting a rare case of clear and sunny weather, so get up as soon as possible and arrange a Saturday hike or a pleasant walk around the area..."
A hand reached out from under the blanket cocoon and irritably slapped the device’s button, interrupting the morning radio DJ's positive speech. The young man, who held the hand, rolled over on his back and pulled the blanket up to his waist. The body has clearly woken up, but the brain itself did not want to and the "subordinate" was not allowed to leave the arms of the lover Morpheus. Being a “night owl”, the young men had great difficulty getting up at eight o'clock in the morning, especially on Saturday.
“Why did I set the alarm in the first place?” was the first coherent thought in his slumbering mind.
Oddly enough, the guy couldn't remember. These were the summer holidays, the days when you could take a break from College with forced awakenings and the accompanying biorhythm riot that kept boy up late playing video games or reading books because he just couldn't sleep.
Lucky for a night owl to be born in a family of early birds as an allergic person in a family of cat lovers!
The young man was about to ignore the forced awakening and go back to sleep, but the next moment a small hurricane burst opened the door of his room, jumped into the air, and landed with a full swing on the guy's stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs.
“Brother, wake up! You'll sleep all your life!” hurricane screeched in the squeaky voice of a twelve-year-old girl.
The dream was gone, replaced by a growing sense of exasperation.
“Gertie, get out of my room! This instant!” the boy shouted, taking a fresh breath.
The black haired girl jumped off the bed and pretended to whimper:
“Mom, Newton is bullying me!”
“Call me Newton once again and I…” the boy hissed, but a loud shout interrupted his threats.
“NEWTON CASSIUS MOORE! DON'T YOU DARE HURT YOUR SISTER!” it was his father shouting, then he added more gently, “Come down, breakfast won't be waiting for you! Have you forgotten that Terry and Madison are picking you up in half an hour?”
The little demon named Gertrude gave a triumphant grin, dodged a fraternal slap on the head, and with a final show of her tongue left the room.
Newt (as he preferred to be called) got out of bed, yawned and stretched, heading for the closet. From the mirror on the door a sleepy-eyed face of a twenty-year-old boy of medium height, quite muscular for a skinny build, looked at him. The comb was doing its best to fix the unruly jet-black hair, which in addition to the sky-blue eyes was some kind of "genetic calling card" of the Moore family. However, Newt painted his bangs white to make them stand out from his family. He put on a pair of faded jeans and a black and yellow long-sleeve t-shirt and went downstairs.
At the dinner table, father was waiting with a newspaper and a cup of coffee, mother was busy with washing dishes in the sink, and sister was eating her second toast with jam. And the fact, that this same jam was smeared almost all over her face, none of the parents noticed obviously. Newt silently began to eat the cheese macaroni and sausage on the plate in front of him. Richard, the head of the family, looked up from the morning paper only for a sip of coffee, Catherine put the juice in front of her son and went back to dishes, and Gertie made a face at Newt when their eyes met. The young man shook his head condescendingly.
'Girls grow up earlier... yeah, right!'
I wouldn't say that Newt didn't love his sister, but in one moment she went from being a charming little bundle of happiness to a royal pain in the ass. Gertrude either picked on him or behaved outrageously, always trying to set Newt up, and the most offensive thing was that both mom and dad believed her. Well, you know children can't lie it's an axiom! And it is unclear whether all the younger sisters are like this or when mom and dad made her, the stars have aligned in the wrong way.
In fact, the parents, no matter how you look at them, were completely different people. Pragmatic, strict, old-school Richard and calm, balanced, friendly Catherine. The elder Moore works as a financial analyst in a bank, and mother worked as an accountant in a branch (after Gertie was born, she finally became a housewife). They met at a private corporate event. Under other circumstances, Newt thought, these two could not meet in any other way. No, the Moore family was average: a husband and wife are faithful to each other, quarrels happen, but rarely, children are loved, enough to live on with the rest. It’s just a young man sometimes had the feeling that everything in their family is unwittingly and purely out of obligation. Probably this feeling visits everyone who finds out that he was created when his parents were drunk. Richard, being an adept of the old school, took the responsibility without delay, and Catherine in general was not against it, especially at that time she was dreaming of marrying a respectable man.
And there's this fatherly fetish for outdated names. It was Newt’s father idea to name his son Newton Cassius Moore and his daughter Gertrude Rosalind Moore. Does anyone else in two thousand nineteen call their children like that?! No?!
“Though not named Francis or Dick, thanks for that,” Newt thought at the time.
Just as the boy finished his hygiene, a car horn sounded from the street. Newt could recognize Terry’s Cadillac among a thousand others. Grabbing a backpack and saying goodbye to his family, the guy ran out into the street.
Waiting for Newt in the driveway was the aforementioned turquoise Cadillac 1959, driven by Terry Wilson and in the passenger seat behind the driver sat Madison Reed. They both saw Newt and waved at him, as he slumped into the seat next to the driver and put his backpack under the seat.
Newt had known Madison since early childhood: their parents have met on the playground, the two of them had been inseparable ever since, and the world had never seen a stronger friendship between a man and a woman. And those flaming red hair, honey-brown eyes and a scattering of freckles on a pretty face had not changed over the years. But when the time came for the Moore heir to take an active interest in the opposite sex, Madison drew a large circle around them with chalk and put a sign "Friend zone". Newt confessed to her in high school, but even after a few years he still couldn't accept the fact that the girl he was crazy about only saw him as a friend. He didn't interfere with her personal life, but he declared a cold war against all the guys who hung around her.
Newt met Terry on the first day of elementary school, sitting next to him in a classroom. Terry Wilson was a plump young man with ash-blond hair sticking out from under his cap and a short goatee beard. There was always a faint smell of engine oil from Wilson Jr., because he had spent his childhood in his father's garage and, unlike Newton, had given up on college by going to work as an auto mechanic for his father's firm. In fact, this Cadillac was a random find of Wilson Sr. in a certain car dump. When it was first brought into the yard, it looked more like a rusty trough, but Terry took up this "constructor for children from seven years old" and the retro legend was back on the move in all its glory.
During the summer, Terry often called Newt and Maddie to spend some time somewhere. A lake, a movie theater, a shopping center, or just a car tour along familiar roads. In general, it wasn't just parents who kept Newt awake during vacation. But today Wilson Jr. was driving them to his uncle Vernon's ranch. It was a great place for a picnic, communion with nature and horseback riding, for which all this was originally started. But the younger Moore has not been very happy about these trips for two reasons: first ‒ the last time a particularly obstinate mare threw him off her back, and the guy had to spend the rest of the summer in the hospital with a broken leg; and second ‒ Terry's cousin Caleb, who is dating Madison, comes to the ranch in the summer.
Vernon Wilson's ranch was three kilometers from the city. It was a vast area, surrounded by a wall of tall pines on one side and a mountain range on the other. This land was occupied by a two-story beige cottage with a large garage that could hold a tractor, a stable for ten horses, a spacious barn, a pasture and a field for planting tomatoes, cucumbers, grapes, and corn.
As the Cadillac pulled up to the porch, Mrs. Wilson came out. She was a thin woman in a blue housecoat with white flowers, a brown apron and a purple kerchief tied around her hair. The small lips on her shrunken face broke into a smile when she saw her nephew.
“Terry!” she exclaimed.
“Aunt Dorothea!” the guy jumped out of the car and hugged his favorite aunt.
Madison and Newt followed slowly.
“Newt! Maddie!” the woman's green eyes shone when she saw her nephew's friends.
Mrs. Wilson flew up to them and kissed them both on the cheeks. Newt didn't like this kind of affection even from his own relatives, but he didn't show it.
“Madison!” a new voice called.
“Caleb!” the girl turned and threw herself into the arms of a stripped-to-the-waist guy in torn jeans and brown sneakers.
Caleb was a year older than Madison and had already graduated from college. Ash-blond (the Wilson’s family trait) with blue eyes, six-pack abs and impressive biceps. The guy's torso glistened with sweat in the sun, making him look like an Apollo.
'A life-sized Ken doll,' once called him Newton.
After breaking a kiss with the girl, from which Moore Jr. prudently turned away, Caleb noticed the guys and walked over to them. After exchanging hugs with Terry and shouting: "Bro!" his cousin held out his hand to Newton. Caleb either didn't really notice or ignored the fact that the brunette was not very friendly to him, since the smile a la “dentist's dream” didn’t leave the blonde’s face for a moment. Newt, however, just out of courtesy shook his hand.
"You're just in time," Caleb said, releasing Newt's hand. "Dad and I were just finishing shoeing the horses.”
"Then we'll go check on him," Terry said, leading his friend by the shoulder.
The boys turned the corner and followed the well-trodden path to the stables. Newt knew perfectly well that Terry had done this on purpose so that he wouldn't stare at his cousin when he cooed with Madison.
“And what did she find in this model from a gay magazine?” the dark-haired man snorted.
“You're actually talking about my cousin,” Terry reminded him without rancor.
“You could have supported me, the friend you are!”
“Caleb is as much my friend as you are, Newt, so I'm not going to take sides.” Wilson Junior was beginning to get a little annoyed with his friend's behavior. “And grow up already, for God’s sake! Madison is not the last girl on Earth.”
Terry said the last two sentences a couple of yards ahead of Newt, anxious to get away from the company of his ever-discontented friend and see his uncle as soon as possible. Moore Junior did him the honor of not trying to catch up, but instead took a leisurely walk to the stables.
The familiar wooden building greeted him with the equally familiar smell of hay, horse dung, and the occasional whinny from the stalls. The far stall on the left was ajar, and from it came the sound of uncle Vernon’s and Terry's voices, accompanied by the tapping of a hammer. Newt walked slowly between the stalls. Ten stalls were occupied by five stallions and five mares, all of different ages and colors. Vernon Wilson usually sold foals, so Newt didn't see much of them.
One of the mares, however, he knew very well. A thoroughbred triennial red horse with a chestnut mane and a white mark on the forehead. When she saw the boy, she poked her head out of the stall and snorted so much that drops of saliva were on his face.
“Hey to you too, Spitfire,” Newt said sarcastically, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Make no mistake; I'm not happy to see you either.”
"Hi, Newt!" Vernon Wilson shouted, a plump, tanned man with a walrus moustache, wearing beige trousers, a red checked shirt and a yellow wide-brimmed hat. “Decided to say hello to your ‘favorite’?”
“Yeah, in her dreams she is my favorite,” the dark-haired man snorted at the horse. “Especially after what she did to me.”
A single memory sent a painful pulse through the once-broken tibia.
“Well, it's no one's fault that you decided to show off in front of Madison.” Terry shrugged as he left the paddock. “And we warned you that Spitfire is a ‘character’ and you should treat her like a woman.”
Wilson Jr. went to the horse and stroked its head, and Spitfire accepted his caress. This sight caused another bile surge from Newt.
“Terry, I don't care what you do with her when no one's looking, but you don't have to be so open about it.”
Vernon chuckled, holding his stomach, but Terry's eye twitched.
“Newt, I brought you and Madison here to rest and relax, not for you to spoil everyone's mood with your disgruntled mumble." Terry frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
“All right, boys, that's enough,” said uncle Vernon, hugging them both. “Newt, really, why are you grumbling like an old-timer?” he ruffled the boy's hair, and the brunette made a grimace of displeasure. “Don't worry, no one throwing you against Spitfire, I have a horse just for you.”
Newt got a middle-aged bay Hanoverian mare named Lilac, although she could still give a head start to young studs if she wanted, but she was calm, docile and obedient.
The boys spent the rest of the day riding horses around the pasture. Even Newt, who was skeptical at first, enjoyed it, not being afraid to gallop and jump over obstacles. At the end of the day his posterior hurt, but it was worth it.
Late in the evening, when uncle Vernon and aunt Dorothea had already gone to bed, the boys and girl moved on to the second part of the cultural program ‒ a night in the woods. They lit a fire, spread out sleeping bags, and Caleb brought a crate of beer and chips. They started telling each other scary stories.
“A black silhouette stopped by my bed," Newt said, making his voice as sinister as he could muster. “It felt as if I were paralyzed: couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. With my eyes wide open, I stared at the figure, which was flat as if it had been cut out of paper. Suddenly it leaned over me and was so close to my face that I almost fainted from fear. It had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, like a shadow, but I could feel this gaze studying me intently. Like it wanted to examine my features carefully, and so, leaning even lower, the shadow slowly tilted its head to the right and then to the left. Then the figure straightened, moved away from my cot and disappeared into the dark corridors of the house. I never saw it again.”
The boy finished his story and looked expectantly at his companions. They just sat with a bored look from the very beginning of the story and continued to do so till the very end. Terry broke the silence.
“Sorry, man, but it's not even close to scary.” he could hardly see straight, what made Caleb and Madison laugh.
“Your zombie story was also stupid, not scary,” retorted Newt, probably the most sober of the group, because he didn't like beer much and took small sips just to get his throat wet.
"Well, zombies are classic." Caleb shrugged, emptying the remains of his bottle into his mouth.
“Vampires must be classic too then, since Maddie’s story passed,” Newt said not without sarcasm.
“Come on, Newt,” Madison said, yawning as she settled more comfortably on Caleb's chest, the beer already making her sleepy. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Screw you, guys,” snorted brunette, but still took the flashlight and reluctantly wandered into the thicket.
It's probably for the best. Caleb and Madison, like opposite poles of a magnet, just wouldn't want to get away from each other, and as for Terry, if he goes into the woods in this state, they will have to look for him with the dogs in the morning. So Newt took on the role of the humble lamb and went for firewood.
The woods around the ranch were so dense that it felt as if the trees were slowly surrounding you, a feeling that was doubly unpleasant at night. Beyond the pale patch the darkness was almost palpable, so impenetrable was it. It was a moonless night, and the light from the stars did not reach this far. The same impenetrable silence was broken only by the crackling of crickets, the croaking of frogs by the river in the distance and the occasional hoot of an owl.
Meanwhile, Newt wandered on, searching the grass between the trunks for twigs, which gradually gathered in his left hand into a small bundle. Before he knew it, he had reached the entrance to an old abandoned mine that had been there since Forks was founded, and Terry's ancestors had owned it for generations. Eloquent signs “No entry”, “Dangerous” and “Collapse” were clearly put here for a reason. Even when Newt, Terry, and Maddie were little, uncle Vernon had strictly forbidden them to come near this place.
“There's nothing for you three to do there! The pillars of this mine are held on their word of honor. If the mine collapses, it will bury you with it!” he said at the time.
Newt would have just turned around and walked back, if not for one thing: the entrance to the mine always had been carefully closed with an iron mesh gate with a heavy barn lock, but the gate was wide open, and the lock was lying nearby in the grass; or rather what was left of it, in strange dark purple spots, as if it had been doused with something like acid. But that wasn't the only thing that caught the boy's attention: a patch of light caught movement in the shadow of the tunnel, as if someone had hurried to hide so that they wouldn't be discovered.
“Hello? Who's there?” Newt shouted, approaching the entrance cautiously.
Expectedly, no one answered. Meanwhile, Newt's mind was in a real battle.
‘Well done, go straight to the maniac's lair. No instinct for self-preservation,’ one thought screamed.
‘What kind of maniac would make a lair in a mine that is about to collapse?’ echoed another.
‘Well, if not a maniac, then a bear!’
‘Bear? In Forks? Are you serious? Now bears can spit acid?.. Probably, teenage hooligans. The figure seemed to be short.’
‘Well, even better! Junkies or vandals.’
‘Well, junkies or not, if the next morning there is a title in the newspaper about teenagers who were buried by a rubble in the mine, I will not forgive myself for being there and doing nothing... Just to catch their hands and send them home. This is private property, after all.’
With that thought in mind, Newt took a deep breath, let it out, picked up a thicker stick from the brush, and stepped inside. The tunnel met him with stone walls, dusty air, and the smell of rotting wood coming from the pillars. It all looked like one sneeze is enough for everything to collapse. But other than that, nothing came into the light of the flashlight.
“Stop hiding! I’ve seen you, show yourself!” Newt shouted.
His voice echoed off the walls, and there was a slight crack like a board breaking in two, and dust rained down from the ceiling. Newt put his head in his hands, fearing the worst, but after a few seconds, he took his hands away and dusted himself off.
“Look, whoever you are, you don't belong in there unless you're looking for death,” the guy said, lowering his voice to a half-tone and moving cautiously down the tunnel. “And to die under a rubble is not the most noble of deaths.”
The only response was silence, which was gradually broken by a kind of... hum. So long, otherworldly, accompanied by the noise of water or the ringing of precious stones. As Newt rounded a bend, he saw a pale blue glow in one of the tunnels, and the hum grew louder. The boy had no idea what it could be, but for some reason his heart jumped to his throat, and the flashlight almost slipped out of his sweaty palms. The young man swallowed nervously and began to creep cautiously along the tunnel.
There was a dead end around the bend in the tunnel that ended in a stone wall, but this particular glow came from the wall itself. On the surface of the time-polished stone, contrary to the laws of physics, a liquid seemed to be held, which shimmered in all shades of blue and made circles on its surface. And the hum that Newt had heard before seemed both intimidating and inviting in the immediate vicinity. But the person to whom the shadowy figure belonged was not there.
Newt switched off the flashlight and walked carefully to the wall. Slowly, he reached out and touched it. The mysterious liquid immediately enveloped his fingers, and the place of contact shone brighter. The liquid felt neither cold nor hot, as if the air had suddenly become liquid without requiring a couple of hundred degrees of Celsius. The boy took his hand away and looked at his fingers, which had not a drop of this mysterious liquid left on them. Newt was about to try to dip his entire palm in, but suddenly he was hit in the back, and the young man fell headfirst into the wall.
Instead of the expected impact, Newt seemed to sink into the water, only he didn't lose the ability to breathe... or scream. The next moment he screamed at the top of his voice, because something caught him and carried somewhere, performing turns like a roller coaster. Although he was floundering in space matter, faster and faster rushing through some frames that look like mirrors, until with a slight pop he flew out somewhere and hit the stone floor face first... It seems he broke his nose.
Breathing fast and moaning in pain, Newt rolled onto his back and put a hand over his aching nose. Four-legged figures in white protective coveralls and gas masks suddenly surrounded him. The guy with wide-open eyes looked from one to the other convulsively, meeting only the emptiness of the darkened lenses.
“Who... are you?” he asked, his voice trembling.
In response one of the unknown figures held a small spray can to his face and pressed the valve…
***
Newt still remembered an incident from his childhood when his father took him fishing. Just the two of them, father and son, a wooden boat, and a pair of fishing rods. There was little biting that day, and the younger Moore soon grew bored, even leaned his fishing rod against the side of the boat. Suddenly the float went underwater, the line jerked, and his rod went overboard with it. Newt tried to catch it, but he tripped over the side and fell into the water. It was the beginning of April, and the water was icy. His muscles were quickly frozen by the cold, and his wet clothes became a heavy weight, pulling the boy to the bottom. The receding bottom of the boat, the inability to move or breathe, the deepening darkness of the depths, and the fear of imminent death ‒ these were the things that stuck in Newt's memory and still made him wary of swimming in the lake, preferring to wallow on the shore.
And the feeling returned as he slowly opened his eyes and realized that he was under water. Adrenaline surged into boy’s bloodstream, making his body flail convulsively. Fear gripped Newt's chest like a tight vise as he realized that his arms, legs, and torso were strapped tightly together, and that a mask was snugly attached to his mouth, from which a rubber tube ran somewhere outside the tank in which he was. The view was blurry because of the water, but through the glass cover the guy could see a spacious room, flashing lights and monitors of strange equipment, as well as four-legged creatures in protective suits and gas masks scurrying to and fro.
But most of all Newt remembered someone sitting in a chair, like a king, on a steel platform in the center of the laboratory. To begin with, the figure was anthropomorphic and it wasn't wearing a protective suit with a gas mask. The unknown man was dressed in blood-red armor with a turquoise Cobra symbol on the chest. It was not just the water that made it impossible to see his face: he was wearing a helmet with a horn protruding from the front, and a turquoise visor seemed to repeat the symbol on his chest, representing a Cobra ready to throw. The Cobra, as Newt called it, was leaning on the arm of a chair and seemed to be looking at him with interest.
“Who are you? What do you want to do with me?!” the boy shouted, still tugging at the unyielding straps.
But if all he heard was an unintelligible mumble, then his captors on the other side of the glass didn't hear anything at all, continuing to talk about something, write something on tablets and look at monitors. Suddenly Cobra looked somewhere to the left and nodded to the Gas Masks. They stopped running like ants and quickly dispersed. But what scared Newt most was a device with three tall cylindrical glass columns that looked like a lethal injection apparatus. The guy looked at his elbow bends in anxiety, but there were no tubes. When the figure in the gas mask pressed something, and the piston in the first cylinder began to descend, displacing something gaseous, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, Newt realized with horror that this something was not going to be injected through his veins. He twitched and screamed with redoubled effort, shaking his head in all directions, trying to shake off the mask: it was better to choke than let them inject this stuff into him. But the mask was also tightly fixed to the head; so as a result, the human only exhausted himself and broke his voice.
And the mysterious substance from the machine suddenly hit him in the throat with the taste of metal, alcohol, and frosty mint, causing Newt to cough sharply, which otherwise did not prevent the gas from reaching his lungs. Gradually, the fog began to appear in his head, and muscles relaxed, the desire to resist disappeared, his head fell back, and heart slowed down. The longer the guy inhaled the gas, the more frequent and shallow his breathing became.
Suddenly the young man's body jerked violently, his eyes rolled back, a new cry escaped from his throat, and his muscles began to cramp painfully. At first, it seemed that nothing else was happening, but then a small spark began to light up in the area of the heart. With each passing second it grew more intense, until it became a powerful, blazing, unbearable fire. But this bright light did not last a minute. The supernova born in Newt’s heart seemed to be fading... and not. This light began to fill his lungs. And then the entire chest began to emit a quiet light, as if the dragon itself was filling its lungs with heat before spewing flames from its mouth. This did not stop the spread of the mysterious substance through the human body. It continued with the blood, through the arteries and capillaries, and returned with the veins, covering the whole body in thin lines. Newt was now like the World itself, with its luminous meridians drawn across it. At last, the light was almost gone, the newly formed core no longer glowed, nor did the threads, but the eyes still shone, radiating light and a semitransparent haze. While boy’s body was suffering from the pain caused by an unknown substance, the mind simply fell into emptiness, and the body in the bio-capsule went limp.
***
The first thing Newt encountered during his next awakening was a terrible headache, as if he had been banging his head against a wall, then it was played like a drum, and finally someone was kicking it instead of a football. The last time boy felt this way after a dorm party at the end of his first year of College. There were a lot of people, a lot of cheap booze, loud music, and the next morning Newt woke up with the headache described above, naked, in a strange room and in a pile of the same naked bodies. At that moment, Newt quickly found his clothes (not all he came in, but that’ll do), quietly got out of the room and set itself the task to erase the incident from memory. That same day, he swore on the Bible that he would never again be a part of such unrestrained fun... and signed up for a physical.
Overcoming the painful throbbing in his temples and forehead in response to the slightest movement, Newt, wincing and moaning, raised himself on his elbows, and then with a sudden movement that caused no less sharp pain took a sitting position. When the fog cleared before his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that his clothes were gone. Instead, he was wearing white cotton pajamas that had come out of nowhere and no shoes on his feet. And boy was sitting on a stone floor covered with an old dirty red carpet with golden images of the sun and moon. It must be the reason why his vertebrae ache and crackle.
“Wha-?” the pain was immediately halved when Newt raised his head and looked around. “Where... What?”
The guy was in the middle of a huge dark hall, apparently an abandoned castle. Around him, the floor was littered with fragments of ceiling and windows, and behind him on a platform that led up to a small staircase were two thrones, orange-yellow and dark-blue. Above the latter hung two matching tapestries: one with the sun and clouds, the other with the stars and moon. All of the above time clearly did not spare, because it looked like a huge monster took a bite off everything around, but again and again it did not like it and spat out.
Newt tried to get to his feet, which were clearly of a different opinion, because the next moment he was face down on the floor again. Spitting and coughing the dust in his mouth, he made a second attempt, getting down on his knees to begin with, then crawled to a large boulder nearby, gripped it more firmly, and used it as a support to keep himself from falling on shaky legs. Leaning against the rock, Newt finally allowed himself to catch his breath. The carpet on the floor at least a little delayed vegetating of bare feet.
The fog might have cleared, but the boy's mind was a mess. What happened to him? The last thing he remembered was sitting around the fire with Terry, Caleb, and Madison. Then he went into the woods to get firewood, saw that the door of the usually locked abandoned mine was wide open, went to check... and then only fragments: mirrors ... creatures in gas masks... a bio-capsule… and Cobra. The last time Newt had such a wild dream was after the Dorm party, and for the record, he had barely touched his beer. Or not?
Suddenly, from the far corridor leading to the hall, there was a shrill cry from two young girls, and a sound like the clatter of hooves was rapidly carried away. After that there was another oppressive silence. And Newt just stood there with a puzzled expression on his face, not even knowing what to do. Did he frighten someone or was it not because of him?
“Hello?” he ventured. “Is anyone there?” there was only silence. "Sorry for intrude, I don't remember how I got here!.. And for that matter, where exactly is ‘here’?” he said the last part to himself.
There are no ruined castles in Forks, not even the city's pride the Twilight Tour could provide one. Did they go to Seattle or Portland in the middle of the night? Then how did they get inside? Such castles are usually guarded... and in better condition than this one.
The question remained unanswered, and a rumbling sound came from the corridor followed by a shout:
“Well, tapestries or not, I’ve had just enough of secret passages, mysterious presences and unappreciative castles!”
It was a woman's voice, but it wasn't Madison's. This voice could belong only to a high-born prissy girl or a flighty lady. Then Newt heard another woman's voice, a little lower, softer, and a little squeaky:
“But we can't leave now! Not with Angel lost in this dangerous old castle! He could be trapped under crumbling statue or locked in a tower without food, or water, or any friends at all!
Judging by the sobs, whoever this Angel was, he was very important to the girl. But what are they doing here? Some hippies broke into a protected area for the lulz? Or were they drawn here by the ghost stories? Judging by the sounds of approaching footsteps, more like the clop of hooves, these two girls were not far away. When he was sure that he was on his feet, Newt ran into the darkness of the corridor to the left of the thrones and hid around the corner. God protect him, he didn't know what kind of people they were or what to expect from them.
“Angel! Ange-e-e-el!” the squeaky girl screamed.
“I'm sure we'll find him,” said the noblewoman.
The sound of clattering hooves grew louder, and the next moment into the hall came galloping… A horse? No, judging by the size it's more like a pony. Standing on all fours, she was as tall as Newt's belly, with snow-white fur, a purple-blue mane and tail that seemed to have been curled up with a flat iron, and huge blue eyes. But the special feature of this mare was the drawing (tattoo?) on the rump in the form of three diamonds. And protruding from her frontal part was a horn.
‘Do I see a real living unicorn in front of me right now?’ Newt had to cover his mouth to not give away his presence.
In any case, the unicorn mare stopped at the foot of the thrones and stared somewhere above them, uttering a loud cry.
“Did you find Angel? Is he okay?” a squeaky voice came from the doorway.
“They are perfect!” the white unicorn exclaimed, and then Newt realized who the noblewoman's voice belonged to.
The young man again clamped his hand over his mouth at the last moment to stifle a gasp of surprise.
Not just a unicorn... but a talking, goddammit, unicorn!
The lady's interest seemed to be in the tapestries that hung above the thrones:
“No castle in its right mind could possibly object to my restoring such exquisite works of art!”
The squeaky voice belonged to another pony mare that had followed the white unicorn in. The only distinguishing feature, in addition to her lemon-yellow fur, long pink mane and tail with a curl at the end, turquoise eyes, and an image of three pink butterflies on the rump, was a pair of folded wings.
‘Is it a pegasus?!’ Newt wanted to pinch himself harder, but he still couldn’t force himself to declare his presence. Although even if there were talking ponies in the gas masks, it weren't the fillies that had brought him here, or the boy's absence wouldn't have gone unnoticed.
“Oh, they're lovely, Rarity, but I have to keep looking for Angel,” the yellow Pegasus said in that recognizable timid and slightly squeaky voice. “I hope he doesn't think I've given up him.”
She turned and walked back, and the unicorn (‘Rarity is her name?’) climbed onto the blue throne.
“I am right behind you!” shouted Rarity, she closed her eyes closed and she tensed. Mare’s horn glowed with a soft blue light, the same light enveloped the entire tapestry with the moon, and an unknown force tugged it, but even so it did not hurry to remove itself from the wall.
“In… a moment,” Rarity moaned, trying to remove the stubborn tapestry.
Suddenly the sound of an organ cut through the dead silence of the ruins, making Newt jump, then he got tangled in his own feet and fell backward. Another sound and suddenly the throne on which the unicorn stood spun wildly back around its horizontal axis with her. When the rotation stopped, Rarity was somewhere behind the castle wall.
The yellow pegasus turned back and looked around the room, calling for her friend. The sound of the organ along with Rarity's scream drowned out the boy's fall, so pegasus mare didn’t think of checking the left corridor.
“I know hiding is not your sense of humor, but please let this be your joke," pegasus said in a pleading trembling voice as she slowly made her way to the blue throne.
She was pitiful to look at: the pegasus shrank as if she wanted to be even smaller than she was, and her slightly closed eyelids seemed ready at any moment to save her mistress's eyes from some terrible sight. On the one hand, here was a chance to try to make contact and find out what was going on, and on the other Newt felt in his gut that his appearance would only frighten her more.
Instead, this was successfully handled by the damned organ. The pegasus flew into the air in a flash, screamed aloud, and was no less quickly away, still screaming.
Newt got to his feet and dusted himself off.
“What the heck is going on here?” the boy mused aloud as he emerged from his hiding place. “Like it’s not enough of talking ponies then give me a castle that lives its own life... Wherever I am, it's definitely not Forks anymore.” Newt sighed and sauntered out of the room.
Beyond the arched doorway, he was met by a deserted stone corridor, there was nothing but an oppressive gloom, unlit torches, and draughts that gradually made him shiver. The lack of shoes didn't help either, because the toes were already numb, and small stones on the floor kept pricking boy’s feet. The risk of catching a cold increased exponentially.
Newt found himself at an intersection: one road led to an even more eerie corridor with rows of horse legs protruding from the walls on either side, holding torches (‘I hope they're not real’); it was impossible to see where the road to the left led, but the corridor in front led directly to a staircase somewhere up, where the light was coming from.
“Rainbow! Hello!” an unknown female voice with a distinctly rustic note echoed off the walls, coming from somewhere in the corridor to the left. “I guess if I don't find you, I win by default, right?”
Newt didn't want to check who it was, much less find out what kind of crazy game these ponies were playing. Instead, he went slowly up the stairs.
“Of all the castles in Equestria, this is by far the most ungrateful!” Rarity's voice came from above.
‘Equestria?’ Newt paused for a moment. ‘What is this... or where is this?’
The stairs led to a large hall where there were several similar corridors on the opposite side, and on the left two mirrored stairs led to a small balcony. Newt ducked quickly around the corner when he saw several ponies out of the corner of his eye, they were backing up and looking around in fear. Here he saw the familiar white unicorn and yellow pegasus, but with them were two other ponies. One without wings or horn, with an orange coat, a blonde mane and tail, green eyes and the pattern on her side in the form of three apples, the mare was wearing a stetson hat. And another pegasus mare, only with a sky-blue coat, a rainbow mane and tail, fuchsia eyes, and a pattern on her side in the form of three-color lightning shooting out of a cloud.
‘OK, here goes nothing’ Newt took a deep breath and walked out of the hall.
“Um... excuse me,” the guy began, slowly approaching and holding his hands out in front of him in a conciliatory gesture.
At that moment, a bolt of lightning lit up the hall, a thunderclap shook the walls, four pairs of eyes stared at him... and then all four mares screamed loudly.
“The pony of shadows!” the blue pegasus screamed the loudest, cutting through the air and bouncing off the walls like a pinball.
The rest of them just started running around the room and yelling, not looking where they were going.
“I'm sorry, I‒” Newt broke off, jumping out of the way to avoid being hit by an orange pony. “C-calm down!” he got out of the way of the yellow Pegasus. “I didn't mean to frighten you, and I don't want to hurt anyone!”
“I was only trying to restore ancient art!” the guy didn't notice Rarity, who was covered by the fallen tapestry.
The blow knocked all the air out of his lungs, not to mention the fact that the horn would clearly leave a bruise. Newt was thrown back against a pile of rocks, the sharp edges of which bit into his back. The pain cleared his mind a little and allowed the adrenaline to get into his bloodstream in time, because the cowgirl knocked down an already damaged by time column, which began to fall directly on the guy. Newt rolled away and coughed at the dust that rose in the air.
“Ange-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-el!” yellow pegasus screamed at the top of her lungs.
Newt tried to get to his feet again, but the orange pony leaped over a fallen column and hit him in the jaw with her head, knocking Newt over, and falling head over heels.
“ALRIGHT! EVERYONE, STOP!” someone shouted from the balcony, and the room was lit up with a purple glow covering everyone present by this same glow. Ponies and human were frozen in place in the same positions and at the same point where they had been a moment ago.
Literally, Newt's mouth and eyes were the only things that could be moved, and everything else was either restrained or paralyzed. The cowgirl froze in a half-turn with her tail on her face, the yellow pegasus clung to a fallen column, the rainbow-maned one hovered in the air, and Rarity sat under a fallen tapestry. The unknown voice belonged to a purple unicorn (‘How many of them are here?’) that appeared out of nowhere at the foot of the stairs.
“I don't know who you are, but thank you,” Newt said. “I thought I was going to be trampled alive.”
The fillies stopped looking at each other, their eyes darting to him, and a new wave of horror crossed their faces. The purple unicorn came closer and released her friends, they dropped to the floor and immediately stood behind her, while Newt remained where he was, unable to move.
“What in tarnation is that?” the cowgirl asked, pointing a hoof in his direction.
“I-it talks!” the white unicorn gasped.
“First of all, I'm not ‘it’, I'm ‘he’,” Newt said, almost hissing. “Second, yeah, try to imagine, I can do a lot of things. And third, it gives me great pleasure to talk to you on the floor.” the latter was said with as much sarcasm as possible.
The purple unicorn extinguished her horn, and the glow around the boy disappeared. Actually, on closer inspection, the purple mare had not only a horn, but also wings, as well as purple eyes, a dark blue mane and tail with a pink and purple stripe, and a pattern on her side in the form of a six-pointed star. And of all the ponies present, she was the only one who looked at him not with ‘What is he?’ but rather with ‘How did he get here?’ manner.
Newt got to his feet and dusted himself off; of course, the once snow-white pajamas were hopelessly ruined. Because of his height, the fillies had to look up at him, and they didn't dare get any closer.
“What’s gotten into you?” the guy continued to be indignant, he was drove insane by all what is happening. “I thought of you as civilized creatures. Or is this how you meet people?”
The fright was replaced by surprise and bewilderment, and lilac mare was even more ashamed than the others.
“Do you understand me at all?”
The ponies looked at each other spasmodically and nodded in unison.
“Yeah, right,” Newt said, tapping his forehead with his fist. ”If I can understand you, then it’s only natural that you can understand me. Although, it is a curious coincidence to meet a colorful ponies who speak English and not some Abracadabra.
“Erm... what now?” the cowgirl asked.
“English,” Newt repeated, now it was his turn to be puzzled.
“We speak the Universal Equine Dialect,” said the purple ... unigasus? Pegahorn?
“Well, in my world your language is called English... and speaking of worlds, because it's obviously not Forks, where am I?”
“You are in Equestria, the continent of Equus, the planet Eden,” said the unicorn with wings. “But I wonder why do you look like that?”
“Like what?” the guy's left eyebrow shot up. “Rumpled, untidy, and confused? There is an obvious explanation for this.”
“No, why do you look like a human instead of a pony?”
It put Newt in a state of great confusion.
“I'm sorry I don't understand your question. So you've seen humans before, after all?”
“I have, but my friends haven't,” said the purple mare. “Forgive them for that.” then she startled, as if she had remembered something. “And we got off on the wrong hoof. What kind of Princess of Friendship am I?.. What's your name?”
“Newton Moore,” the human said.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Moore-“
“Just Newt and no ‘mister’ stuff,” the boy interrupted.
“Okay… Newt, my name is Twilight Sparkle,” the purple pony said, and the other mares came slowly out from behind her and stood in a row. “This is Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity.”
“Well, briefly we've already met,” Newt said, the others only awkwardly dug their hooves into the ground.
“We're sorry,” Fluttershy said softly, hiding her face behind her pink mane.
“Yeah, we kinda messed up the first impression.” Rainbow Dash scratched her head and gave an awkward laugh.
“It’s nothing,” grinned Newt. “When I first saw Rarity and Fluttershy, I was half scared and half surprised too. And, Twilight, you said you've seen humans before, so they exist in your world?”
The purple mare shook her head.
“I've met humans in a parallel world where there's a Canterlot High School, and all the ponies here have human counterparts there. You're not from CHS, are you?”
Another puzzling question.
“I don't pretend to know my world from A to Z, but if we had something like that, I think I would know about it,” Newt said.
In the eyes of Twilight lit up strange sparks, which, as Newt will learn soon, means, that the mare has activated the mad scientific interest mode.
“I've read that there are other human worlds, but portal mirrors were lost centuries ago,” she said, lost in her own thoughts, and then turned her attention back to the man: “Do you remember how you got here?”
“My memories are pretty vague,” Newt said, because he didn't really want to remember what had happened. “There were some mirrors, yes, but I didn't come here by accident. Someone kidnapped me, I don't know who, because I didn't see their faces. I only remember some kind of lab, ponies in hazmat suits and gas masks, and there was a man in red armor with the sign of a Cobra on his chest.
It was hard to tell from the reaction of the ponies whether they were too stunned or didn't believe him.
“They did something to me,” Newt continued. “I don't know exactly what, but they pumped some gas into me and I passed out then woke up here. And judging by your reaction, unless you're a natural actresses, you didn't bring me here.”
“Uh-uh-uh.” none of the mares opened their mouths, from behind their backs appeared a small purple dragon with a green crest from the top to the tip of the tail and green eyes with a narrow pupil. “We usually save Equestria and bring magic of friendship to the world, not steal creatures from other worlds.”
“Angel!” Fluttershy exclaimed, rushing to the white rabbit that accompanied the dragon and hugged him tightly. “Finally I’ve found you! Don't scare me like that again!”
‘So much fuss because of a little rabbit?’ Newt thought.
“The magic of friendship?” boy asked, returning his attention to the dragon. “Saving Equestria? Are you some kind of Justice League of the local spill?”
The ponies blinked, and the dragon gasped in surprise, but then cleared his throat quickly, puffed out his chest, raised his right paw, and exclaimed:
“Rejoice, human! You have the honor to stand before five of the six Elements of Harmony! Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and The Element of Magic!” he began to point at the mares in turn. “Rainbow Dash, The Element of Loyalty! Applejack, The Element of Honesty! Fluttershy, The Element of Kindness! And Rarity, The Element of Generosity!”
The ponies looked at the dragon with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and perplexity. And the yellow pegasus, when her turn came, hid her face behind her mane again.
“And the last but not least is me,” said the dragon, pointing at himself with his thumbs. “Spike Brave and Glorious, Savior of the Crystal Empire!”
Newt was not particularly impressed with the dragon's performance.
“If only I knew what you are talking about.” the man rolled his eyes. “And, no offense, but I have a hard time believing that an overgrown lizard can be anyone's Savior, let alone the whole Empire.”
Spike's eyes widened, he frowned, turned red, clenched his paws into fists, and panted. He did not look threatening, but cute and funny. The girls tried to hold back, barely allowing a smile to appear on their faces, although Rainbow gave a loud, unabashed squeal and burst out laughing.
“I'm not a lizard, I'm a dragon!” Spike snarled, which caused everyone else to laugh out loud, because he looked like a child who claims to be an adult.
“Okay, you said about six elements, but why are there five of you?” Newt asked, changing the subject to calm the dragon and not embarrass him any more.
“Pinkie Pie is still in Ponyville, she is ringing the school bell today,” Rarity said for the first time. “She doesn't have anything to do here... and we weren’t expected here too. What were you doing here, Twilight?”
“I've been searching the local library for information about the box from the Tree of Harmony,” said the purple pony. “And what were you four doing here?" she asked the other ponies. “I thought it was strange when I saw Angel why he wasn't with you, Fluttershy.”
“Oh... he was with us,” yellow Pegasus hesitated. “until Rarity and I got trapped…”
“I decided to look for tapestries for restoration, and Fluttershy kept me company,” the white unicorn explained. “And yes, during our search, we came across several traps and hidden doors.”
“And what about you two?” Twilight asked Rainbow and Applejack.
“We've been competing with Applejack all day to see which one of us is the bravest pony,” started rainbow-maned pegasus.
“We’ve tried everything possible, but remained in a draw and therefore decided that what can be a better test of your courage than a scary old castle?” the cowgirl finished.
The organ that had startled Fluttershy earlier began to play again. The mares and Spike quickly clung to each other, and Newt jumped up and looked around frantically, trying to determine the source of the sound, but it seemed as if the music was coming from everywhere.
“The P-pony of S-s-shadows,” Spike stammered, covering his eyes with his paws.
‘Brave and Glorious, indeed!’
“Don't be silly,” Twilight's voice quavered. “It's just an old ponytale.”
“Then who do you think is playing that?" Applejack's eyes were narrowed with fear, and cold sweat ran down her forehead.
“We're going to find out,” Twilight said and went in the supposed direction of the sound source.
The ponies, the dragon, the rabbit, and the human went back down to the basement from which Newt had come, only turning the other way at the intersection. The music was getting louder and with the local acoustics it not only hit the ears, but also seemed to penetrate the brain. The unknown organist's style had the characteristics of Bach, Mozart, and Handel, but for the most part the music was more like skillful improvisation than particular composition.
And now they were in front of a room from which came the music of an organ. Peering around the corner, they saw what was probably the most intact room in the entire castle. In the dimness you could still make out the high ceiling, four side corridors, and a carpet path leading from the doorway to a small staircase, which in turn led to a very ordinary brass organ. On either side of it, mirrored stone statues of pegasi encircled a pair of tall candelabra that provided the only illumination. But this is not the main thing. A hunched figure in a black raincoat sat at the keyboard, apparently unaware of their presence even after a loud collective sigh.
Twilight stepped forward and began slowly sneaking up on the unknown figure. The others, including Newt, just stood there gaping at her. Halfway up the stairs, the purple pony grabbed the cloak with her magic and yanked it off... Not a ghost, not a monster, not a demon, but another pony. Soft pink fur, dark pink mane and tail that resembled cotton candy, blue eyes and a pattern on the side in the form of three colored balls.
“Heya, guys!” she exclaimed. “Did you know I can totally play the organ? Because I didn’t!”
Her voice was so high-pitched that it hurt Newt’s ears.
“Pinkie?” exclaimed mares and dragon in unison.
‘So this is Pinkie Pie. Speak of the devil,’ the man remarked to himself as he and the others moved closer.
“Check it out,” said the pink pony and played a short tune.
“You are the Pony of Shadows?” Rainbow Dash asked, hovering in front of her.
“The pony of what?” Pinkie asked without looking up from the keyboard.
“See? What I tell ya?” Twilight said firmly.
“I thought you have to ring the school bell for week,” Applejack said, looking at her pink friend in confusion.
“Oh yeah, I only had to ring it like five minutes. They said I was good enough” the pink pony tapped a few keys in time with her next sentence: “Nah, can’t imagine why.”
Her friends just rolled their eyes.
“So I decided to throw ‘Finish ringing of school bell’ party , but I didn't have any bluebells, and you can’t throw a ‘Finish ringing of school bell’ party without bluebells.” Pinkie wasn't just talking, the words were coming out of her mouth like machine-gun fire, and she was either gesturing or fiddling with the keys on the organ. “So I went to the Everfree Forest to pick some, but it started to be so chilly that I had to wrap myself in the tarp I'd brought for the flowers. And then I saw Fluttershy and Rarity, but they went into the castle before I could invite them to my party. Luckily, I followed them inside so I can help with your party!” she stopped playing and turned fully to them.
“What party is that?” Rarity asked.
“Ah… ‘The everypony come to the scary castle and hide from each other while I play the organ’ party?” she finished her sentence by tapping the key again, only now the tile Spike was standing on jumped and he flew back somewhere.
“Duh,” Pinkie smiled and bounced off the organ.
Newt usually tried not to jump to conclusions or be prejudiced, but this pony was already getting on his nerves. He couldn't even tell which was more annoying: her chatter or the nonsense she was saying.
“Is she even sane?” Newt whispered to Applejack.
“Not a chance,” the farm mare snorted.
“Oh, and who's our new friend?” the pony and the man in their brief dialogue did not notice that the pink misunderstanding was near them.
Pinkie was leaning forward, looking at the boy with the broadest of good-natured smiles. Newt stepped back slightly, saving his personal space from a rude intrusion.
‘We just met. Isn't it a little early to be called friends?’ the young man didn't say this out loud.
Twilight, realizing that the human was speechless (‘Yes, Pinkie has this effect on everyone,’ she noted), took the initiative:
“Pinkie, this is Newt ... the human. Newt, this is Pinkie Pie, The Element of Laughter.”
“The pleasure is mine,” the guy manages to say just to be polite.
“O-o-oh,” the pink pony said, her pupils filling up the white of her eyes, her smile widening, and the boy felt uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you, Newt the Human!” her surprise faded instantly and she bounced toward the exit.
The boy followed her with a confused look.
“A piece of mah advice,” Applejack said to the human, giving him a little poke in the side, “NEVER try to figure out what Pinkie says or does, or your brain will go kaboom.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Newt drawled, continuing to stare at the pink misunderstanding.
***
Sometime later they were all sitting in the tower of the castle. A circular room with a sofa on the one side, a bookshelf on the other, a small table in the center and miraculously intact stained glass windows with familiar images of the sun and moon. A hole in the ceiling provided natural light for Twilight, who was leafing through a book, and Spike was sitting next to her also reading. Pinkie Pie was skipping around the room, Rarity was sewing a tapestry, Fluttershy was stroking her pet, and Rainbow and Applejack were arguing in low voices about who had won their argument. As for Newt, he paced the room and looked around. It wasn't that he didn't want to start a conversation with someone, just that he didn't want to distract them from their business.
“I swear this is going back where I found it just as soon as I return it to its former glory," Rarity said, breaking the silence as the needle in her magic grip circled, creating stitch after stitch on the tapestry.
“Now don’t go running off again,” Fluttershy scolded the rabbit. “Oh, I can't believe I was so frightened. Guess I let my imagination get the best of me.”
“Ah think we all did,” Applejack said.
“I always let my imagination run away from me then it comes back with cake!" Pinkie exclaimed suddenly.
The girls simply ignored her, and Newt followed their example.
“Well, it's good to know that wherever your imagination is getting away from you, a good friend can help you rein it in," Twilight said, looking up from her task. “And even though I didn't find out anything about the mysterious chest, I’m glad I was here to help all of you.”
“You certainly did that, Twilight,” Rarity smiled.
Their atmosphere of warmth, unity, and friendship affected Newt as well. He caught himself on the fact that he no less happy for them, smiling and it's just nice to be with them, even though they barely know each other.
“No doubt about it,” the young man interjected. “Today you saved me from a very ungenerous death.”
This caused everyone to laugh, if only a little nervously.
“Sorry again, Newt,” Rarity said.
“It’s nothing,” the guy said. “The reaction was pretty much expected. In this situation, I'm just glad I met someone reasonable and not the one who kidnapped me.”
“You said they did something to you,” Fluttershy said awkwardly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, I guess. But when I woke up here, I had a terrible headache and could barely move because of my weakness.”
“Don't worry,” Twilight said, “when we get back to Ponyville, I can check you out and see if there are any changes.”
“Are you are a doctor too?” Newt chuckled. “Besides, how do you know about human physiology and anatomy if you don't have any humans around?”
“That's our Twilight,” Rainbow said with a grin. “Egghead.”
“Hey!” purple pony exclaimed, frowning, but then turned her attention back to the man: “I picked up some books about humans from the Canterlot School library, so I think I'll figure it out.”
“You're not going to dissect me, are you?” Newt asked, feigning fear.
“No,” Twilight said with a chuckle. "Though I’m very interested to see how the human body works firsthoof.”
“Twilight,” Spike squinted from under the book, "do you remember when you were a kid trying to figure out how a camera works? You didn't put it back together.”
The comment made mares laugh, but human's insides turned cold.
“Spike, I'm not going to risk our only specimen for scientific interest,” Twilight said with a condescending shake of her head. “I am The Element of Magic and a Princess of Friendship, not a mad scientist.”
“One doesn't interfere with the other,” snorted the dragon. “When you're up all night reading books that I can't even pronounce, or making a schedule for every day and freaking out if something doesn't go according to plan or right on the minute, what's not crazy?”
The princess wanted to argue, but Newt distracted her:
“Twilight, I still didn’t ask what are you? Are your parents a pegasus and a unicorn?”
“I'm alicorn, you dork,” the purple pony said with a condescending smile. “Alicorns are not born naturally. I used to be a unicorn, but Princess Celestia ascended me.”
“I'm not sure I understand... Who is she? And what does ‘ascended’ part mean?”
“Princess Celestia and her sister Luna rule Equestria together. Celestia is mistress of the Sun, and Luna is mistress of the Moon and the World of Dreams.”
“What do you mean by 'mistress'?” more and more questions, and a little answers.
“They move the sun and moon in the sky, changing day and night,” Twilight said. “I know it's not necessary in the human world, but they've been doing this for thousands of years.” Twilight forestalled the obvious question.
“So the alicorns are some kind of gods?” Newt couldn't imagine the power it would take to be able to do this.
“You could say that,” said the purple pony. “Celestia and Luna are very highly regarded in Equestria.”
“But why would they make a simple pony their equal?”
“Princess Celestia has a school for gifted unicorns in Canterlot, where I once went," Twilight began. “For my outstanding achievements I became her student. I lived in Canterlot for most of my life, until one day the Princess sent me to Ponyville to oversee preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration. This is what you get in return when you want to warn of danger, and they tell you ‘Go make some friends’,” she said, not without a grin, drawing laughter from her friends.
“But it was for the best, wasn’t it, darling?” Rarity smirked.
“So was for us,” Rainbow shrugged.
“What kind of danger?” Newt asked.
“You see, a thousand years ago Princess Luna was very jealous of her sister because the ponies didn't appreciate the beauty of the night and her as a Princess. Succumbing to her grief and resentment, she turned into a monster that called itself Nightmare Moon and wanted to plunge Equestria into eternal night. Celestia was forced to banish her to the moon, where her younger sister was locked up for a thousand years. And just on the day of the Summer Sun Celebration, they prophesied her return. Nightmare had come to the festival and kidnapped Celestia, and the six of us had gone to this castle, the Castle of the Two Sisters where Celestia and Luna had once lived.”
“Then it's no wonder there are symbols of the sun and moon everywhere,” the guy chuckled.
“So,” Twilight continued, “here we found the Elements of Harmony that Celestia used to banish Nightmare Moon. And because we were the perfect embodiment of each of the six elements, we were able to use them to destroy Nightmare Moon and return Princess Luna-”
“Since then, we've gotten to know each other better, defeated villains, saved ponies, spread the magic of friendship, and mended relationships,” Pinkie interposed, firing a machine-gun burst of words at us. “And Twilight succeeded in the magic of friendship so much so that Princess Celestia decided to ascend her. Now Twilight is the third Princess of Equestria.” when party pony finished her verbal barrage, she smiled broadly and made a squee sound.
“Heh, yeah, that's about it,” Twilight said with a grin.
“I understand the general outline, but you'll have to explain a lot to me to complete the picture,” Newt said. “Though I don't think there's anything else I can do, since I can't go back.”
“Oh-oh-oh,” Pinkie said, “you're going to love Ponyville… Wait, so you're new in the town?” she leaped into the air and screamed loudly: “I JUST HAVE TO THROW YOU A WELCOME PARTY!”
Her scream made the walls tremble, and for a moment it seemed as if the floor was about to give way beneath them.
“A party?” Newt looked down.
“Yes, Pinkie is the best party planner,” Spike said. “The Element of Laughter, after all. And she organizes a welcome party for every new person in town, even if they're passing through.”
“Don't bother, really… “ the boy felt awkward.
“No refusal,” sang the pink pony. “I like to organize parties, it's my pleasure and not a burden at all.”
***
Unknown to the six ponies and the human, two blue lights were watching them intently from the shadows.
***
«Dear Princess Celestia,
I took your advice and explored the library in your old castle. I have not found anything about the box from the Tree of Harmony, but instead the girls and I found a human. His name is Newton Moore and he looks exactly like a human, not a pony, which means he is not from the world of Canterlot High School. Newt (as he asked to be called) says that he was kidnapped by some ponies in protective suits with gas masks and someone in red armor with the sign of a Cobra. Does that mean anything to you? Newt also said that they did something to him, and I can tell you more when I examine him. Newt shows no signs of aggression towards us or ill intentions, only a lack of understanding of our world and a healthy curiosity. He will be under my supervision at Ponyville, unless you make some other arrangement.
Your former but still devoted student,
Twilight Sparkle»