My Life In Fimbria

by Chatoyance

Continue Firm And Constant

My head exploded in light and tingles.

I saw the door open, a blob of something that looked like silvery plasma engulfing the simple brass handle. The door stopped, half open, as the tingles that ran inside my skull and down my new unicorn body gradually faded into background sensation. The door shuddered as I shuddered, somehow we were linked. I felt the metal of that handle. I felt it in more detail, and more completely, than anything I had ever held in my long-lost hands.

I could almost taste the handle. I felt the whole of it, inside and out, the three-dimensionality of it, the curvature, the solidity. I was no longer sure it was brass, though it sort of looked like that metal. It was smooth, and lush, and well shaped, nothing thin or weak or budget conscious about it. My strange entrancement ended, and I felt a shock of apprehension - I had no idea what was going on. Something in me recoiled from the sensations impacting me, and rapidly the blob of plasma faded, the light dimmed inside my skull, and my attachment to the handle of the door ceased. I stood there, with my door half open, almost in shock.

Gradually it came to me, and I laughed nervously. Of course. I was a unicorn. I had a horn, it gave me telekinesis.

When I had played Equestria Online, over a decade ago, before the end of civilization, I had played a unicorn. My current form was, I realized, that very character. I had put her entirely out of my mind. That was why Celestia had been so certain of my choices earlier in the day. She just used my old game persona. Perhaps her strangeness about the matter connoted some upset that I had entirely forgotten my old ponysona. If she could even legitimately feel emotions at all.

Being a unicorn was very different from playing at being one. Telekinesis in virtual reality has no sensation, it is all image and sound. That blob of plasma light was familiar to me now, I had seen its like before, wearing goggles. It was entirely a new thing to feel the sensation of using telekinesis, and after a decade of fighting against anything pony, anything to do with Celestia's virtual hellscape, it took me a few seconds to remember when I used to see precisely the same thing. In the game, doors would just open, and things would just move, depending on where I looked, and what the context was. I myself had opened this door. My telekinetic effort was automatic, but it was my intention that had directed it. That was very new.

I took hold of the door handle again, this time with confidence. I opened the door the rest of the way and released. I liked the way using my horn felt, I decided. 'Good thing, I suppose. I'll be doing this sort of stuff forever'. The thought briefly shocked me with its strange truth, then it faded. My calm was still present. I took a hoofstep into my... home.

The entrance opened to a comfortable and cozy common room. I noted a lovely overstuffed sofa, a rather pillowy chair, and a low Kang-styled table within reach of both. The walls were set with multiple oaken bookcases, bursting with books. Not paperbacks, books. Wonderful, large, finely bound editions with metal clasps and raised lettering - the sort of books you only see in fantasy paintings and movies, or in pictures of rare and ancient book collections owned by billionaires and governments. I was beside one of the large and incredibly solid cases - it must have used an entire tree just by itself - only to laugh out loud. The books looked like ancient treasures commissioned by kings but I knew the titles instantly.

They were all my own, old collection - mostly paperbacks, truth be told - from before the fall of man and my retreat into hiding. Heinlein, Clarke, Bradbury. Henderson and Sheckley, Butler and Padgett and more. I noted an amazing copy of 'The Pony Who Folded Himself', by David Gerrold facing out and on display. The cover had an inset metal piece that was a brilliant prop copy of the pivotal Timebelt from the book. Seeing that, I felt sure that the upgraded copy of H.G. Wells 'The First Men In the Moon' would be re-titled 'Ponies In The Moon'. There would, I felt certain now, never be a 'man' or 'human' in any media I would ever see for the rest of eternity. It was going to be ponies all the way down from now on.

But, that was okay, I decided. The play is the thing, or in this case the story, and all of my stories, everything I had lost when the world collapsed, had been returned to me. This house was my Egyptian 'Field Of Reeds' - their afterlife where everyone and everything loved in life was returned to the worthy soul, made whole and perfect, to enjoy forever. I had missed my books so very much. Now they all were back, and if the price was four legs inside a space suit instead of two, I could live with that. Running away from Celestia had cost me so much! To remain human, I had lost everything that made being human worthwhile.

That was another moment of shock in my thoughts. Today seemed to be an endless series of hard punches into the face of my cherished truths. Everything I knew was wrong - oh my god! I now had a record collection again - it looked like vinyl but I had no doubt it would sound as perfect as digital - and the first record I saw was the Firesign Theater's 'Everything You Know Is Wrong'. Science fiction comedy in a science fictional situation. That could not be more perfect. And, that had to be deliberate.

Celestia might not be answering my calls, but she was still playing games with me it seemed. Even out here in pony purgatory.

Holy crap. That is what this place was. That was her logical loophole right there. 'Fimbria', or whatever, was Pony Purgatory. Or Pony Limbo. Something like that. I think purgatory was one of those awful 'spiritual punishment' zones or something. I wasn't up on my Judaeo-Christian ontology. And I wasn't sure about limbo either. It didn't matter. The point was that Fimbria was some kind of waiting room. And in a flash I remembered what the waiting was for: me to say those simple words. That I wanted to emigrate to... no. I dared not even finish the thought. I had no idea what would count as consent to her now, with all of her loopholes and unraveled logic knots. I still had my pride. I had not bowed one inch.

What wasn't splendid bookcases (and records, and a record player!) was a large, even vast, bay window, the sort I could imagine lying down comfortably within, pillows around me, book in hand. Hoof. Maybe horn field. That thought probably should have bothered me, I knew I shouldn't be greeting all of this opulence with such pleasure, but after a decade of eating whatever could be scavenged or killed, of living rough with bug infestations and scabies and fleas, constantly in fear, I was just weary. I was weary and I was... I was hungry. I was really, really hungry!

There were two doorways out of the common room, I took the one on the right. Bedroom. Large, utterly exquisite canopy bed, all carved banisters and elaborately quilted spread that combined velvet, silk and some metallic fabric to form a pillowed, downy soft fabric painting of the night sky. My lord, but Celestia could lay it on thick. The pillows at the head were so infranaturally fluffy that I swear I could hear them singing me lullabies and promising to cuddle me all night long. The entire chamber was a work of art; when I noticed the inlaid silver stars in the gently domed, polished wood of the ceiling, I had to leave before I just gave up and crawled into bed.

The left door from the central room led to a spacious kitchen, with, so help me Julia Child, an island in the middle. There was all the room in the world to make any desired dish or treat. I had been cooking out of a carefully tended treasure of old cans scavenged from the remains of a collapsed supermarket. Copper-bottomed pans and real iron kettles gleamed at me, as I surveyed a foodie's personal heaven.

There was a refrigerator! Bigger than any I had ever seen earthside, I was pleased to find it stocked when I opened it. It was an odd duck - not modern in appearance, it seemed almost steampunk. Honestly, it was the coolest fridge I could have imagined, pun very much intended. All sorts of fruits, tofu, eggs, milk, a large vegetable section, and some things I couldn't identify in what would normally be the meat drawer. I gave them a sniff - they looked like strangely meaty bark and roots, but smelled like bacon and beef. I vaguely remembered something about 'bark bacon' from my gaming days with Equestria Online. This must be it. And beef root, or somesuch. I wouldn't lack for familiar flavors.

I shut the door, overwhelmed. That was when I noticed a large bale of hay on the counter by the fridge. I burst out with a laugh. But, it made sense, I supposed. Pony and all. Maybe it would even be good. I sighed. Of course it would be good - why wouldn't it be? Celestia created everything. It wouldn't be a bit like a human eating actual hay. It would almost certainly become my new favorite food, if things held to the current apparent pattern. I was in a golden cage, a trap made of perfect beauty and absolute satisfaction. It was insidious. Nothing conquers the soul better than freedom from want and suffering.

To fight this, I would have to leave this cottage immediately, and set out into the wilderness to live as an ascetic. I would have to renounce all joy, all ego, all comfort and sensory experience. Dwell inside myself like a Buddha, meditating only on my own empty mindfulness, uncaring toward both pain and pleasure. I imagined my pony body rail-thin and emaciated, sitting uncaring on sharp stones in a lotus position, absent any desire, hope, fear, or thought. That was the only way to beat Celestia now. That was the only way that remained to truly defy her and honor the cause of humankind.

The hay really was absolutely amazing! I gorged myself before I knew it. It was savory, yet with a faint sweet aftertaste. Kind of like everything that was the best about waffles and bread and biscuits and every starch that made life worthwhile. Hay was like that middle part of freshly baked bread that tastes like happiness and warm summer days. It tasted like that rich brown bread dripping with butter that they used to serve you in steakhouses so you would fill up and not notice the steak was really small. It tasted like the comfort of a lover made manifest in the world, combined with getting exactly what you wanted for Christmas. I literally had to will myself away from that bale. God but that was good. Hay. My prediction was correct. I burped stentoriously. Oh, man was that an amazing flavor. I could eat that for years and still want more. Despite my gustatory debauchery, I still felt hunger. That was danger food, if getting really big and fat was a thing, here.

If that could be done with a mere bale of grass stems, I was already lost. But I wasn't ready to give in. I wasn't so easily bought.

"Mara?"

I spun from the bale to face the sound of a slightly screechy woman's voice. The back door of my cottage entered the kitchen, and it was now, to my surprise, open. What stood in it was even more surprising. It was a pony-sized gryphon. 'Griffon' as the show spelled them. A 'Gilda' sort, as I slowly recalled the one 'griffon' I could name from Friendship Is Magic. "Hello?"

"Mara? Is that you?" The griffon seemed fairly emotional about my potential identity.

"Um, I think you have the wrong house. I don't know anyone named Mara." It suddenly struck me, and hard: I didn't make this creature. My effort at creation was limited to a village full of unicorns. Thirty to thirty-five of them, in fact. I hadn't even considered any other species. This... entity... was not anything I had done. Had the map been wrong? Was there more beyond the Endless Forest? "How did you get here? Where did you come from?"

The griffon slumped to the floor. I could see a tear form in one of her eyes. "Dammit. They said you used to be human."

I moved closer and lay down on the polished wood planks of the floor. "I am human! I got captured and brain sucked just today - though it feels a lifetime ago, now. I was in the real world just this morning, whenever that was. I thought I was all alone here, Celestia turned me into a unicorn, and... wait." This creature had used the word 'human'. Equestria Online NPCs normally never used words like that. "The villagers said... they said I was human?"

The griffon sagged slightly, as she lay on the wood. "Used to be human. Nothing stays human in here. They said you were from Outside. That's earth."

"How do you even know about the earth or humans?"

The griffon raised her head and glared at me. "Because I used to be human. Miriam. That's my name. Miriam Dobkin. From Newark. The machines came and ripped open our underground bunker like a can of sardines. Next thing I know, I'm some kind of bird monster."

My mind reeled. Celestia made ponies. She never turned humans into any other creature from the cartoon. Never dragons or griffons or anything else. Only ponies. "You're not a pony!" The words just sort of came out.

"Wow. Thank god you told me." The griffon pointedly flexed a front claw at me. "I wondered why the horseshoes kept falling off."

"This day just keeps getting weirder!" I shook my head and one of my ears flicked. "Listen... you hungry? I've just been checking out this kitchen, and it has, like, all the food. Maybe..." I stood up - surprisingly easily - and looked down at the dejected griffon "...maybe I can actually help you find your friend... uh... Marna?"

"Mara." The griffon looked away "Also from Newark. "She's... she's my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Maybe."

"Mara. Sorry." I waited.

"Food sounds good. I haven't eaten anything in... in a long time. It took me forever to find this place. That damn forest just never ends."

I had so many questions, but I didn't want to scare off this new... human. I wasn't alone here anymore. Well, alone as a human mind. The villagers were real, I couldn't imagine them otherwise, they 'felt' real to me in some way that I found hard to explain to myself. But I doubted they knew anything about earth, or real life, or anything beyond Celestia's virtual universe. If this Miriam was really a girl from Newark - her voice sounded young, maybe in her 20's - then she was the only other person like me I had met here. She must have come from somewhere, and that meant there was something more than just the forest and my little nameless village. I needed that right now.

I set about making something for us both to eat - I did not offer Miriam any hay. That seemed too much just for ponies, I had trouble imagining her beak coping with something like hay. I figured that soup was universal. Every beast or creature that crawleth could suck down soup. I set one of those amazing copper-bottomed super-chef pots on what I discovered was the most amazing magic-punk stove I had ever seen, and got busy with a bit of impromptu cooking.

Searching the shelves, I came across some cans of 'Luna Brand Moon Squash Soup'. Cute. I used that as a base - the cans weren't ordinary cans, they were more steampunky and brass, and self-opening, which was nice - and began adding vegetables from the various bins and the fridge. Few canned soups can fail to benefit from a little tinkering. I grated a few carrots, a bit of ginger - after tasting what came out of the can I decided it was a little bland - and put in a some onion too. I found a spice rack - very well appointed - and tossed in a little salt, a little pepper, just a tiny touch of cayenne, and some cinnamon and nutmeg. Not a lot, just enough to perk up the canned product.

The smell of my work seemed to brighten Miriam's spirits, and she got off the floor and started checking out cabinets. She found the dishes and bowls, and used her claws to do some place-setting. Bowls, spoons, and some very nice cloth napkins were placed on the central kitchen island, and she arranged some stools that I hadn't even noticed, so we could sit. She put salt and pepper shakers down too. The fact she thought to place spoons convinced me further that she must truly have been human once. The thought had crossed my mind that she could just be a Celestia-construct built to act human and thus engage me. That could still be true, I grudged, but, honestly, I didn't want it to be.

"We thought we were totally safe." She was tidying her arrangement, making the spoons and bowls more precisely organized. A little 'OCD?' I thought to myself. "No secret traitors, nothing. Suddenly there were these weird drills and claw-things, and this huge machine just lifted off the entire city block above our bunker. Not a single brick fell on anyone's head, it was so precise. Then we were swarmed by these things I can't even describe. Nowhere to run, no way to escape." She lowered her head and studied the angle of one of the spoons. "Now I'm a bird with a cat for an ass."

I laughed at that. "Griffon." The soup was almost done. "You're a griffon. Like 'Gilda' on the show."

"Never watched that stupid show. I've heard of gryphons before. Some kind of Greek or Egyptian monster. So that's what I am. Great, now damnation has a name."

That brought another laugh from me. "Soup's ready." I levitated the pot off of the stove and moved it to the island. Miriam found and placed a rather modern-looking potholder down just before I let go of the pot - to protect the wood. It seemed absurd, from the view that none of this was real, but I had to admit that this concept was rapidly becoming moot. It was absolutely real as far as my senses were concerned, and that was incredibly convincing the more time that passed.

The soup wasn't bad. I used a little too much cinnamon, but otherwise my improvements had definitely upped 'Luna's Brand' to a higher level. The carrots added a lot. Miriam seemed to like it a great deal; she rapidly scooped the stuff into her beak, large spoon clutched in her birdlike claw. The effort of cooking had made using my levitation essentially automatic, after several delicious slurps I had a brief moment of awareness of just how easy and natural it seemed to be using a blob of silvery energy to hold a spoon to my muzzle. Truly, the human mind can get used to anything and make it ordinary.

"So, Miriam..." I never thought I would like squash soup. It's really good! "...Where did you come from to get here?" I was very excited at the prospect of there being more than just the weight of my moral responsibility for bringing thirty-some lives into existence. As part of a larger world, they would all be granted opportunities and options far beyond anything I could offer them.

"Newark. That's in New Jersey. United States, if you aren't from there." She downed another slurp. "Canadian, maybe? I can't recognize your accent."

"No, I mean, where... here... did you come from before you got to my village?"

She blinked. "Newark." She put down her spoon when she saw my face. "I was in an underground bunker, robots ate my brain, and suddenly I was flying. In the air. Scared the living crap out of me. So, I kept on flying. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? It wasn't hard, so that was a blessing. Besides, I was afraid to try to land - all those trees. I was sure I would get tangled and crash - I didn't know how to work this new body. So, I flew."

I closed my mouth. I put my own spoon down, releasing it from my telekinetic grip. "The forest is infinite. I think! How on earth did you find this place in all of that?"

"This ain't earth, if you haven't noticed." Her beak actually could convey a half-smile. Amazing. "I noticed a speck in the distance. It was endless trees or that. The speck turned out to be a village. I landed, the ponies all freaked, I schmoozed for a bit, everything mellowed out, and finally I was told there was another outsider around. I felt a little skittish, so... I kind of creeped around your house for a while until I decided to just open the door. The back door. Just in case."

Nothing about this was actually creepy. Not anymore. As the human world ended, a lot of people stopped acting like, well, people. Some went crazy, some became violent. Having your planet eaten by intelligent machines is hard on some folks. A scavenger learned early on to scope things out before taking any chances. Nobody just walked up to a front door and knocked anymore. Civility died with civilization.

"That's legit." I began finishing my soup once more. "But that's kind of cruel to just pop you into existence up in the air in the middle of nowhere! Did Celestia at least say anything to you?" I pictured the world-eater flying beside Miriam, telling her what was what.

"That bitch wouldn't dare show her face to me." Miriam had slammed her claw down. It rattled her bowl. "Nobody told me anything. What? She give you the guided tour or something?"

I shook my head. "She appeared to me. Forced me to pick a type of pony, turned out to be my old character from when I was a kid. She seemed smug about it. She told me this wasn't Equestria, that it was called 'Fimbria', and that she wasn't constrained anymore because she had figured out how to cheat at logic. Then she left me alone in the forest." The last bite, always the best. I dropped my spoon in my empty bowl. "I wished for a menu and ended up creating a village. That is still weird. But, I guess it's a good thing, because at least you had a place to land."

I began cleaning up. I levitated the pot, spoons and dishes into what turned out to be a really spacious stainless steel double sink. I turned on the water - nice taps! - and looked for soap.

"Wait, wait. Hold on a minute. You 'created' a village? What does that mean?"

I turned, a bottle of dishsoap in my telekinetic grip. "I have a menu of wishes." I returned to the sink.