//------------------------------// // Chapter 25 // Story: Fine Print // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Tracy settled back into his seat, watching as the lights of another world blurred by. His exhaustion was palpable, and the rhythmic motion of the train threatened to settle him to sleep. Far away down the distant mountain he could see little villages, surrounded by fields and orchards. “Am I losing you?” Rose asked, waving something in front of him. A glass, with steam rising from within.  He flushed, realizing she’d been offering it to him. “Tea?” She nodded. “You look like you’re going to sleep in your seat. Classroom can’t be that exhausting, can it? It’s barely nightfall.” “Means I’ve been up all night,” he said, taking the glass and sipping cautiously. It took all his concentration to hold it with one hoof and not drop it, sipping slowly. So there were still annoying things about this place. Maybe if he could levitate things around like the horned ones could, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Or if he’d had claws like Giselle. The tea tasted vaguely leafy, but he didn’t question what might be inside. Only a few sips, and he already felt more awake. Probably placebo, but he’d take it. “Remember, your world and mine are twelve hours off. My daytime is your night. Over there, I’m not a bat. I have the same sleep schedule as everybody else.” Rose nodded absently, disbelieving. “I mean, you say that. But I don’t think you’d be a bat here if you weren’t a bat there. It means something, which tribe you are. It’s your heritage, where your parents were from, the things they believed in, the things they fight for. It’s why Ponyville still wraps up winter the old-fashioned way, why we keep our dirt roads. We’ve got traditions.” He finished the glass, feeling a little more awake the longer he gave the tea to kick-in. “I think my family was from, like… Holland or something? It’s been a long time since I asked. Wasn’t really on my mind before, and now…” He sighed. “What you wish you did, right? Can’t change the past now.” Rose reached over, resting a hoof on his leg. She met his eyes, her own oversized and watery. “Did something happen?”  He never would’ve answered that question a month ago. But the Roseluck who sat beside him wasn’t the same creature anymore. After working together on her stand, and coming all this way out with him, Tracy was a little more willing. “Mom and Dad…”  He sniffed, wings folding tightly to his sides. “Car accident. Some lunatic coming the wrong way down the interstate at a hundred twenty…” He should’ve realized that wouldn’t mean anything to her. Rose stared blankly back at him, mouth hanging open. “What’s that mean?” “They’re dead,” he finally said. “Both my parents. Coroner told me it would’ve been too fast for them to feel any pain. I guess I’m supposed to be happy about that or something.” He looked away, staring out the window. “Sorry. I know your world is like… perfect or whatever. Literal magical unicorns and fairytale castles. I shouldn’t talk about where I came from.” Rose didn’t say anything for a long time. She didn’t touch him either, though her chair never squeaked. She remained beside him, probably watching. Or maybe as unsure of what to do as he was.  “Mine too. Er… gone, that is. During the changeling invasion. They were in Canterlot, providing flowers to the Royal Wedding. Not that I’m trying to say I know what it’s like. I have my sisters. Do you have any siblings?” Changeling Invasion? Didn’t she think I was related to that when I first got here? Maybe that was why she’d been so painfully insistent about Tracy’s background. She didn’t want more ponies to lose their families. He turned back. He should’ve known from her voice, but she was crying too. She hadn’t fought it as well as he had, and he didn’t blame her for that either. His tragedy had just been an accident, not some invasion. Equestria seemed so peaceful—he hadn’t even seen weapons here until the royal guards. How could they fight off invaders with an attitude like that? “No immediate family left,” he answered. “A few distant relatives, but we were never close. My grandparents died when I was little, all natural. Both my parents came from small families. No aunts and uncles, no brothers or sisters for me.” Roseluck reached out again, patting him on the shoulder with one leg. “I’m sorry I… asked,” she said. “I know most ponies don’t like talking about painful memories. I don’t.” He chuckled. “Me neither. We could talk about something else, like…” He reached to one side, hefting the oversized flying book out onto his lap. Despite the dense print and diagrams inside, the cover was mostly dedicated to a cartoonish flying pony with bat wings like himself. The title Thestrals Fly, Too! was printed in exaggerated, cartoonish letters. “Like learning all this in one week. I’m an okay reader, but not this good. Do you think our local library has the SparkNotes?” Tracy made it back home, probably thanks to the tea. He wanted to go right to bed, but fought off the exhaustion as long as he could. All this time in Equestria was going to wreak havoc on his sleep schedule. Getting up for work certainly wasn’t enjoyable after the weekend, but he managed. His new “guide to flight” handbook was as unaffected by the transition as paper money, plotting another variable in the “inconsistency of gateway” tracker. But that was alright. With the help of a few early morning espressos from the work barista, he managed well enough. It wasn’t quite quitting time when he got his first call of the day, so surprising that he nearly fell out of his desk. Who would be calling him now, instead of just sending messages via the company Slack? He blushed, answering as quickly as he could. Anton’s voice answered, as casual as it was abrasive. “Tracy, buddy! Been awhile since we talked.” “Yeah,” he agreed. “Look man, could we do this in an hour or so? I’m still at work, can’t talk.” “Sure, sure,” Anton answered. “But one question, real quick. You’re working at Apex still, right? That big campus with the fences and lots of security?” “Yep,” he answered. There was no sense trying to argue with Anton. But if he could satisfy the questions fast enough to bore him, he’d give up. “Wait a minute. How’d you know that?” Anton didn’t answer for a few seconds, but Tracy was sure he heard other voices in the background. Muffled laughter, maybe? “Do you know where the Stonefire is? Pretty close to where you work?” “I pass it every morning.” “And you probably get off at five, right?” Anton didn’t wait for a response. “When you get off, go straight there. We’ll have a table waiting.” He hung up. Oh shit. It took Tracy all of a few seconds to realize what that meant, and to think through some of the implications. His friends had come all the way down from Ely, without telling him. He floated through the last hour of work, accomplishing very little and hyperventilating quite a lot. He caught Janet’s eyes as he passed her desk on the way out, waving weakly. She didn’t wave back, watching him with obvious concern.  It felt like his brain had locked-up at the arrival of a single incongruous fact. They couldn’t be here, and he didn’t know how to possibly get rid of them. But he’d have to think of something, right? They’re the only friends I’ve got left. I can’t lose them too. The place was packed, so Tracy had a few seconds to wait in the back of the line and make his order. He scanned the restaurant, and eventually found where they were sitting off in a corner. They already had their food, for who knew how long now. There was Shane’s bright red hair, just as disheveled as ever. And Marshall’s drawl, somehow loud enough to carry over so many other conversations. Eventually he ordered, got his plastic number, and made his awkward way over. “Hey guys,” he said, arms folded as awkwardly as his wings the first day of flight-class. “Been a minute.” They scooted down, making room for him. “Sure has,” Anton said. “We were starting to wonder if you died.” “Or just hated us,” Shane said. He shifted uneasily, sipping once from a glass of ice and a little layer of brown at the bottom. There were a few empty glasses beside him. “Why’d you stop gaming, exactly? You made us start looking for a second random every match.” “Shane means, we’re happy to see you again,” Marshall said. “Ain’t that right, Shane?” He nodded faintly, though there was little sign of acknowledgement there. “Obviously we’re happy to see you. Happy that you’re… living the dream out here in the big city. Anton, can we eat now?” Anton shrugged. “I’m not your damn mom.” They ate for a bit. Tracy’s food arrived and they went through that too. His friends looked and smelled like they’d been on the road for a long time, and probably could’ve eaten twice as much. They chatted about everything and nothing—the way things were going back home, how Ely was always the same and all the same local characters were causing all the same chaos they always did. But then glasses emptied, and the subject turned to something closer to home. “Some of those things you said about your place,” Anton continued, as though they’d planned that the whole time. “That duplex you were sharing with some stranger? You said they had to be seen to be believed. So we’re here to see it.” “Mostly we’re here to make sure you don’t forget about us now that you’re rich and famous,” Shane said, a little later. “But something so crazy you couldn’t take pictures of it sounds pretty cool too.” Tracy’s face went bright red. For a split second he thought he felt his tail moving too, though that was obviously just his imagination. He was in the real world, he obviously couldn’t have a tail here.  “Oh, that! It’s nothing, I don’t know why I said it. Just like, uh… big bedbugs. You should’ve asked before coming all the way down here, saved the trip. Nothing to see at home!” The three of them shared a look, one he recognized instantly. Utter, instant disbelief.  “Grow op?” Marshall suggested. “Maybe they got you in on the profits in exchange for shutting up?” “Couldn’t be,” Anton added. “We saw the listing. Not big enough to grow much. Isn’t it legal in California?” “I have no idea,” Tracy answered, without a hint of irony. “I’m not getting a share of any—” Then he stopped, words catching in his throat. Technically he was getting a share of the profits. The profits of Rose’s flower stand, which went into paying for his night classes.  Shane folded his hands on the table, glaring. “I see how it is. You take one trip out of a town as wholesome as ours, and you’re already a criminal kingpin. You probably don’t even need to work, do you? It’s just for show.” He was grinning, but Tracy could never quite tell with Shane. Sometimes he was joking, and sometimes he only sounded like it. “I’m not growing anything in the house,” he declared, loud enough that a few people at nearby tables turned to stare in his direction. He winced, but surged ahead anyway. “It’s nothing guys, honest. I’m just… living the dream, just like you said. I got the job I always wanted, I’ve already paid off most of my college debt. There was never really that much from community college, but still! It’s all ordinary and boring and not worth investigating at all.” “So you expect us to believe the bedbugs thing?” Anton said. “Come on, Tracy. We came out all this way, you can at least show us what was so crazy.” He sighed, glaring down at his empty plate. But these were his friends, and they’d traveled so far. Maybe it was time someone else confirmed the absolute insanity of his contract. At least then people he knew were real could make sure he was feeling the same things. “Tell you what,” he began, scooting out of the seat. “I know you guys probably want to pub-crawl for a bit, right? Wouldn’t you rather do that?” “Nope,” they said together.  Shane finished for them. “Drink later. Magical mystery tour first.” “You guys came in the middle of the week, you realize.” But even as he said it, Tracy was fully resigned. It was time for someone else to know the truth.