An Equestrian Odyssey
Jack fell to a knee, breathing heavily. His breath hung in a steamy mist, suspended in the freezing mountain air. A blast of wind cut his face to the bone. Jack's nose was frost-bitten; were it not for Rarity's cloak, he would almost certainly be hypothermic. Rarity... your generosity saves me again.
"Jack! We need to move; they're trying to cut us off!" Sylvia's voice rang out over the howling winds.
Hulking silhouettes moved through the hazy white snow. They were trying to encircle the humans, to keep them from their destination. Sylvia was already pale and clammy with exertion, and yet she still managed to fill Jack with a warm clean feeling - an empathic spell, designed to keep him moving forward. She was right; they needed to move, and they needed to move now. The cold weight of Jack's sword made his shoulder scream in protest as he hefted it once more. He ignored the pain... all that mattered now was getting through. "You ready, Sylvia?" he asked. She gave a grim nod.
The moment was here. For Equestria... for my new friends... for Sylvia... and above all for her. Her name was on his lips as he charged.
Six Months Earlier
The sky was blue, the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the leaves were just beginning to change into their autumnal hues... it was, in other words, the perfect day for camping. Sylvia wasn't exactly an outdoorsy girl. Camping lacked certain important features in life - proper beds, hot showers, and ponies. Mostly ponies. As a 19 year old girl, most would tell her she was too old for My Little Pony. Most would be wrong. The animation was fantastic, the stories well thought out, and most of all the characters really spoke to her. Her family had certain qualms about her hobby, the main one being the amount of time it kept her in front of a screen of one sort or another. The camping trip was a means to keep them placated; her father, in particular, liked the idea of her being a camper, and could be a mean son of a bitch when he wasn’t happy with her. Probably pent up frustration with not having a son she noted gloomily. For the time being, she forced Equestria out of her mind and tried to focus on the beauty that the real world had to offer.
She had fiery orange hair, roughly shoulder length with warm green eyes. She wore a long sunflower yellow skirt which hugged her legs, together with a loose pink blouse – her favorite pony had inspired the outfit. After finishing up a late lunch of campfire biscuits and honey, Sylvia washed up and tended to her campsite.
Jack was camping less than a mile away in the same campground. He was just under six feet, with loose chestnut brown hair that fell just past his ears and icy blue eyes. His eyes were his most distinguishing feature - they were intense; almost like he was staring at whatever they happened across. He wore a plain black t-shirt and a dark medium fitting pair of blue jeans. Jack made it a point to go camping at least one weekend a month - it kept him from living his life shut in his room, if nothing else. As much as he was a child of technology, there was a certain peacefulness to be had in getting away from it. Jack loved the internet - but the more people he met through it, the more he found himself harangued by their drama day in and day out. It was nice to get away from the arguments, the politics, the pettiness.
And the ponies. If Jack had to see another pony, he was likely to go berserk. He'd never been one for judging others on what they like, but these 'bronies' made their fandom inescapable. He gave them a pass when the furry sites he visited were consumed by ponies - after all, ponies are more than a little relevant to the furry fandom. But the ponies were everywhere. Almost every thread in his favorite political forum had a pony macro in it. The AMV's he browsed on youtube were quickly turning into PMV's. His online war game client of choice was getting inundated with pony-themed army lists. He was dominated in Team Fortress by some douche-coupon known only as 'Fluttersnipe'. In short, Jack's views could be summarized thusly - Fuck ponies. Fuck everything about them. And thank god there were still no ponies in the woods of upstate New York.
After eating and washing up, Sylvia decided to avail herself of the good weather and the pleasant scenery by taking a hike. Donning a thin jacket and taking a small day bag with dried fruits and her sketchbook, she set off to enjoy the day. Coming from the opposite direction, Jack had much the same idea – though he wore a thicker brown leather jacket, and brought nothing with him. Many of the flowers were still in bloom. Sylvia stopped periodically to draw them, while Jack simply admired their smell and appearance. About a quarter mile from Sylvia's campsite, our protagonists met. Sylvia immediately regarded the other as a familiar face - Jack, if she remembered his name right. They shared an AP US History class just before graduation.
"Mornin'." He spoke before she could figure out how best to greet him. It was the sort of casual polite greeting one gives a passing stranger. She decided to linger, to see if he remembered her.
"Nice day for a hike, huh?" Sylvia asked, smiling at Jack as she paused beside him. He was looking at a patch of bright blue flowers, quite unlike any others on the path - they were almost cartoonishly bright. Neither had never seen them before; and yet at the same time, to Sylvia, they seemed almost eerily familiar.
"Yeah... bit early for me, but I can never sleep in when I'm camping." Jack replied, turning to look at her with gradually dawning recognition in his eyes. "Hey... weren't you in AP US?"
"I only sat next to you... not that you were conscious most of the time. Nothing like history at 7:30 in the morning to help with your beauty sleep, huh?" She teased him, though Sylvia didn't have much room to judge - the teacher's lectures were painfully dull, and she had slept through her fair share of them as well.
"Eh... history was never my subject. Watch my stuff? I'm going to see if I can pick one of those; never seen anything like them." Jack said. Sylvia nodded obligingly as he took off his backpack and put it on the trail by her feet. She could swear she had seen those flowers before... but not in reality. That was it. They looked just like poison jo- No. They couldn't be... poison joke isn't real; is it? As impossible as it seemed, Sylvia didn't want to take any chances. She shoved her way into the brush after him, trying to stop him from touching the nearest blossom. His arm was almost within her grabbing range when a treacherous root snagged her foot, sending her tumbling head first into his back - and both of them into the center of the flowerbed. They sent up a thick cloud of pollen (which smelled remarkably purple) and then everything went black.