//------------------------------// // Arrival // Story: Sunset: Stranded // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// Chapter Two - Arrival She hit the ground in a tumble, rolling backward and letting out a short cry of pain as the back of her head slammed into something hard. Stars burst across her vision, and Sunset squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth against the pain even as she reached for her horn to dull the— It was gone. Stunned, she froze for a moment before her mind caught up with things. Her horn was gone. She couldn’t feel it at all. Or her magic. Which means … She took a slow breath as the pain in the back of her head began to subside. I’m … no longer a pony? Starswirl’s spell had contained a transformation matrix. Another reason why it needed the forces of moons to function. Though it wasn’t a standard transmogrification spell, but rather something else entirely, something that scanned the destination world and then located a form suitable to the one traveling through it … And my head hurts, she thought, shoving her memory of the notes away. Spellwork later. Right now … She had a new form to adjust to. But I still have a head, she thought. And … four primary limbs? And she was lying atop her … saddlebags? They were between her shoulder blades now. If they still were shoulder blades. They felt like it, though … different. And her forelegs felt strange as well. Plus, her back was arched in an odd, uncomfortable manner, her rear legs laid out on the ground. But they didn’t feel stretched. Am I bipedal now? Like a minotaur? That would take some getting used too. She’d been a different species only once before, when Celestia had used a spell to turn her into a griffon for an afternoon just to— She shoved the memory aside. No. She exiled you. And she could follow you. Her eyes snapped open. Blue sky, crossed by grey clouds, filled the air above her. And … Buildings? She tilted her head down, eyes searching for the portal. The first thing she saw was a … finger? Yes, a finger. That was what the minotaurs had called them. It was formed of what looked like tarnished, dirty bronze. As was the rest of the statue standing in front of her. The figure was pointing at the sky, a stern expression on their  … muzzle? They didn’t really have one. What they did have was … A lot of clothes, Sunset noted as her eyes continued downward. A uniform of some kind? It somewhat reminded her of the uniforms she’d seen some of the Royal Guard in for formal events, just … less showy. More … Simple. But simple didn’t seem like the right word for it. Utilitarian, maybe. Was there a better word for something that was so … abrupt, with straight edges and minimal ornamentation? Her eyes continued down, noting that only the creature’s hands and head were exposed. Even its hooves—or whatever it had in place of hooves—were covered. Is that what I look like now? Like some squat, misshapen … minotaur? She shoved the thought aside. Her new form—hideous or not—could wait. What mattered was the base the statue rested on. And the silvery, faintly strange shimmer on the material facing her. She watched, ignoring the strange colors and contours of what she could see of her body, waiting, counting in her mind. Would Celestia follow? Would the Guard? Would they risk being stranded on … whatever world this was, for however long until the portal opened again? Or would they— The prismatic shimmer faded, a final, somewhat muted flash rolling across the statue’s plinth, and then there was nothing to distinguish it from the material around it. She let out a faint sigh of relief. She’d done it. She’d gotten away. Away from her former teacher, away from Equestria. She’d exiled herself. I’m free. She let out a choked laugh. I made it. With my notes. And those books. She dropped her head back, and was immediately reminded of her new situation as pain blossomed across the back of her skull once more. Right, she thought, grimacing. New body. Okay … if I’m bipedal like a minotaur then I should be able to … push myself up into that weird sitting posture they have? She pressed her forelegs down, her hind legs lifting by reflex as old instincts took over, but after a moment’s fidgeting, she was able to consciously override the old instincts and push her body up into a “sitting” position. It felt strange, like more of her hindquarters were on the ground than was normal, but felt … right … to her alien body. The body knows, she thought. So … let’s look at … me. Her first thought was either that her eyes had changed, or that her coat had become a hideous mishmash of colors. She caught the startled squeak that left her mouth halfway, however, as she remembered the statue. Slowly, she extended a … finger … and poked at a hind leg. Or rather leg. The digit met fabric. Rough, heavy fabric, before she felt that press against her leg. Her sense of momentary relief was stolen by another odd sensation however, and she frowned. Have I been … shaved? No, she could still feel her mane as she tossed her head, and as part of it fell over her eyes, she could see that the coloration was the same. So her eyes and vision were presumably an equivalent of sorts to what she’d had as a pony. Hairless? she thought as she began poking more parts of her new form, frowning as she felt bare skin again and again. A close look at a foreleg—Arm, she reminded herself—showed that there were hairs, but very faint. Nothing like the beautiful amber coat she’d had, but. I’m a shaved, slender minotaur, she thought, staring down at herself. And those must be … She stared down at the swelling on her chest. Don’t tell me. Those aren’t … They were. She scowled, then froze. Wait, that does mean I’m still … She let out a sigh of relief as she confirmed that yes, despite the species change, she was still female. Okay, everything looks … sort of okay. The … clothes were odd, and rugged, and her hooves, or whatever this species stood on still felt strange inside her … boots? Almost like they were hands, but not quite? And she was … toned. No, not just toned, she felt … solid. She poked at her arm with her fingers. She’d been somewhat fit as a unicorn, but this … Is this what it feels like to be an earth pony? Her body felt, with a few exceptions she’d already noted, like it was made of rock. It was completely alien. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Okay Sunset, this was your choice. She denied you the mirror even though it was your destiny, and you took it anyway. You just need to figure out what that is now that you’re here. She said you weren’t ready. Prove her wrong. She opened her eyes again. Now, you’re still alive, if a little freaky. That’s step one. Step two … Where are you? She spread her fingers against the statue plinth, smirking in satisfaction when they didn’t slip through. I’ll have to study the lunar cycles and calculate how long it will be before the portal opens again, she thought, making a mental note. With the help of the plinth, she pushed herself up onto her hind legs. Or only legs now, I guess, she thought as she looked down at them. Now … where am I? She turned, her back to the portal, and looked out around her surroundings. It was … a courtyard. A massive one full of stone walls and several levels accessed by stairs carved from thick, heavy stone of some kind. Beneath her the ground was patterned, paved in brick made from a similar material. A thick, low wall surrounded the space around the statue in a perfect circle, and past that she could see benches and rows of boxes filled with hedges. Green was everywhere, both in hedges and trees. As was brown. Everything looked—no, was—dirty. The hedges were long overgrown. The stones were covered in dirt and debris. Tree roots had pushed up paving stones, mixed with grass. Cracks were everywhere, some of the benches broken and battered. And past that … The buildings around her were like nothing she’d ever seen. And not just because of their heavy-set, ornate nature. But because they too were overgrown and decayed. She could see green, leafy vines winding their way across their surfaces, see cracked, dusty glass that hadn’t been cleaned in who knew how long. What happened here? And where is everypo—everyone? She let out a faint cough and cleared her throat. Might as well see if I can still talk. “He - hello?” The word came out a little strange through her new lips—Guess those still work right—but her voice sounded the same. Nothing sounded back at her but wind rushing through the trees and bushes. There wasn’t even birdsong. Well … that’s … creepy. She shook her head. “Focus Sunset. If the mirror was meant for you because of some prophecy Celestia had, then you would have come here regardless, right? Right!” She straightened, the movement feeling more natural already. Especially with the straps of her saddlebags hanging over her back. Did that make it a backpack now? Starswirl’s spellwork is impressive, she thought, twisting her head to look back at her “pack.” No wonder he spent decades working on … Focus. Still, the sound of her own voice had helped. “Okay,” she said aloud once more as she looked around. “This place looks abandoned. Either that, or they really don’t care about keeping it clean. Judging from what it probably looked like before, though, I don’t really see that. But it’s definitely a park or city square of some kind.” She turned around, looking up once again at the statue she’d arrived from. “I think I may be standing in what was once a fountain,” she said as she eyed the massive finger pointing towards … the sky? It was hard to tell. Above where she’d fallen out of the stone, she could see writing on the plinth, but none of the letters looked familiar. Strike one, Starswirl. “I can’t read what it says but …” Beneath the placard of text there was a small diagram of concentric circles that was … almost familiar. “Orbits? Maybe this is this world’s version of … Celestia?” They didn’t look female. Maybe there was a wide array of diversion across the sexes. Or it was the male of the species. Assuming that, since she was female, there was a male. A faint, creeping sense of unease was starting to crawl down her back. Maybe this had been a bad idea. No. She ran her … hands … over the letters. “This is your destiny, wherever here … is. And at least this statue is readily identifiable. Unless … there are others like it.” Working with her new “fingers” took a moment, and she almost fell over more than once as she figured out how her backpack worked. Her books, food and everything else were still in it, including … “Yes!” A marker she’d used for making notes in her spellbooks. Working it with fingers it wasn’t easy, but she managed to get the cap off and … the mark the marker left was indistinguishable against the stone. “Feathers.” Her fingers slipped as she tried to replace the cap, the top falling the stone and bouncing as she reached out with her magic and— Nothing. The cap bounced across the stones, and she grimaced. No magic. I have no magic. No, that hadn’t been one of the parameters she’d changed. There was supposed to be some magic here. I just need to harness it. Without a horn. Again she pushed her thoughts away. “Focus, Sunset.” Carefully, placing one leg in front of the other, she moved across the stone to where the cap lay on the ground and, with only some minor windmilling from her arms, crouched and picked it up. Then she slipped the marker into a pocket on her clothing. At least there was some function to them outside of providing cover for her hairless form. “Okay,” she said, rising. “So I just need to keep track of where I am so that I don’t …” Her words trailed off into silence. This close to the wall of the empty fountain, she could see what she hadn’t a moment earlier. A skeleton was lying on the ground, shoulders and head propped up against the battered base of one of the hedge boxes. From its shape, and proportions, she was fairly certain that it was of the same species as the statue, though closer to her size. However long it had lain there, it had been long enough that the flesh on its bones had wasted away. She fell back, landing on her hindquarters with a thump and almost crushing her backpack once again. Then she shook her head. “They’re just bones, Sunset.” Bones of a once-living creature, her subconscious shot back. That somepony just left here. Maybe the place had been abandoned because of a disease. An outbreak of some kind. Maybe that was it. But then she peered back over the wall, took in the battered and holed attire the skeleton had been clad in when they’d died. It was clearly armor. There was no other use she could think of, it and did resemble some of the armor she’d seen in her studies. Just … formed to what had once been the body of the figure. It hadn’t done them enough good. She could see cleanly through it in a few places. Old, weathered gashes that looked suspiciously like claw marks sent a shiver down her spine. So … not an outbreak. Something had stabbed them clean through in multiple places, and then they’d laid down … And died. Still, that had happened a long time ago, judging by the grass growing through some of the bones and plates. And the evident weathering of the material—whatever it was. The blue shade was dusty, but not quite as clear as it could have been had someone been taking care of it. There was a strange, boxy looking device lying on the ground near the bones of one hand, battered and dirty, but … almost familiar. Like a … Sunset’s eyes narrowed as she searched for the name. The minotaurs had them. Muskets? No, they had something newer, better now. A firearm. She remembered the demonstration that the Princess had been shown, how the device could fire small pieces of metal across great distances, fueled by a chemical explosive. Is that what that is? It looks very different … But then this is a different world, so … The sense of creeping unease crawling down her back was growing. This person needed … that … to what? Protect themselves? And they had armor, and you have— She took another deep breath. “Whatever they faced is long gone, Sunset. Maybe it was just another one of … whatever they are.” She’d studied wars. She knew what they were. They happened. They still did: The Griffon Empire had gone through one right before she’d been born. Maybe that had happened here? So why had no one come back? A glint of metal caught her eyes: A heavy blade affixed beneath what she guessed was the front of the weapon. One with a handle. And despite how long it had clearly lain there, the blade didn’t show a fleck of rust. “A knife would be useful,” she said, looking around the overgrown park, her eyes fixing on every bush and hedge. “Just … for survival purposes even.” And in case there’s something dangerous around, since I don’t have my magic … or even my horn … Each breath was starting to come at a quicker pace than the one before it, and she forced herself to slow. “Shape up, Sunset. You’re meant to be here. Now own it.” First, she had to get over the wall of the fountain. Thankfully, the rough surface didn’t seem to scratch her clothing too much as she awkwardly rolled herself over the low wall, and nothing darted out of the nearby brush at her. “Easy, Sunset,” she said quietly. “Just walk over and get the knife.” She took one, awkward step on her hind legs, then another, and another, crossing the space between her and the … body … bit by bit. Before long, she was standing beside it, looking down at the aged bones. How long have you laid here? she wondered. Were you a warrior of honor, like the griffons? She reached down and grasped the handle of the knife with her fingers, pulling slightly. The weapon moved, and she froze as the cloth-wrapped bones around what she could now see as a grip for the firearm rasped against the ground. Just … slow and easy. She moved to tug the weapon toward her once more—and then froze. What if it activates? There was no telling how the machine worked. For all she knew, it used magic to operate. Or, it could use a small lever, like the ones the minotaurs had made. And if that’s the case, I don’t want to be in front of it. Or by it. She could remember the ones the delegation had demonstrated for … her former teacher. They’d been deafening. Slowly, carefully, she slipped to one side and then lowered herself onto her … knees? The motion felt natural. Easy. She was acclimating to her body already. Two large clasps on either end of the knife’s handle held it in place. She’d need to undo both of them, and the mechanisms looked old and worn. Magic? She reached inside herself, but felt nothing. Another problem to worry about. Later. If she couldn’t use her magic yet, she’d have to make do with tools until she found a way to recover it. Because there had to be some sort of magic in this world, or Starswirl’s spell never would have bonded to it. She tilted the weapon slowly and spotted a lengthened bit on one of the clasps. There. The tips of two fingers fit over it, and she began to pull. Harder, and then harder, her new digits aching. Then with a squeak of metal— The clasp popped free, and she rocked back, losing her balance and dragging the weapon partway with her. It hit the stones with a mechanical clatter as she fell back on her backback once more, books digging into her new spine. At least she’d kept her head from striking against the bricks this time. She pushed herself up, frantically twisting her head and looking in all directions. Stupid ears, she thought, one hand prodding the fleshy appendages. They don’t move at all! She grabbed the weapon, now free of its owner’s dead, rotting grasp. The limb lay in several pieces on the ground, still partially wrapped in the decaying cloth of its armor, other bones scattered. “Sorry.” The word was all she could offer even as she snatched the weapon up, awkwardly locking it against her side with one foreleg—arm—and tugging at the remaining clasp with the other. She let out a faint cry of joy when the second rusted clasp gave at last, after so long that her fingers ached. It fell to the stones with a sharp clatter. She lowered the firearm to the ground as quickly as she dared and snatched up the blade, letting out a sigh of relief as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt. The blade was almost as long as half of her forele— She caught herself. Arm. The metal was dull and flat, but it appeared to still be quite sharp. She took another quick look around the courtyard park. The only movement her eyes caught was still that of the trees and bushes moving in the wind. There was now, however, a faint birdsong, and the sound made her relax a little. “Well,” she said, eyeing her new “acquisition.” “It’s very nice, but I can’t walk around with the blade hanging out.” She turned her eyes toward the remains of the body. The Royal Guard had always sheathed their weapons … maybe there was one on the body? On the one hoof, it felt wrong to desecrate the remains of a once-living being, but on the other … This is not what I planned. She’d assumed the portal would dump her out amid civilization. Not the abandoned ruins of one. It was gross but … If the body had anything she could use, she probably needed it. Setting the knife nearby, she crawled on her … Hands. And knees. Over to the body once more. It had moved slightly when she’d pulled at its arm, and more of the cloth had come apart. There isn’t much I could make use of. And not without a good cleaning, she thought. Which I can’t do because I don’t have any magic. Something glimmered on the stones as she leaned back, catching her attention. It looked like … a necklace. From a faint discoloration atop the chest of the armor, it had lain there until she’d jerked the body before sliding free down onto the stones. But it wasn’t like any necklace she’d ever seen before. It was made of bands of what appeared to be metal for one. And at the bottom, where normally would have hung jewelry … Twisting her new limbs carefully, she used the point of the knife to lift the necklace into the air, examining the two bits of metal the decoration threaded through. Both were identical to one another. Redundancy? She wondered, eyeing the twin shapes? Tools? Spare parts? It was hard to determine why a warrior or guard of some kind would wear a necklace with two flattened, metal gears on it. Maybe it was a mark of the owner’s station or calling. Like their cutie mark. If this species has one. She made a note to check her flank at the earliest opportunity. But perhaps that was what the necklace denoted. Maybe they’d been an engineer of some kind. She set the necklace aside and continued to examine the bones.