//------------------------------// // Whole New World // Story: Scarlet Tears // by Silent Quill //------------------------------// She had been the prize of her herd, the best trained riding Talbuk that had been seen on Outland for many years. Her handler only gave her -what she considered to be- the best of things. Greenest fields, the cleanest of waters, and a soft bed of straw on which to sleep at night or when she caught ill. Her coat was the purest of whites, and her horns and hooves gave the faintest of light purple glows. She was special, and all of the Orcs who lived in the town she was raised in knew it. She had been bred from the greatest Patriarch in all of Nagrand, Bach’lor, and as such her stock was legendary. One day, a man came to purchase a Talbuk for a mount to ride, having heard of the strength of their hooves and stamina almost unmatched by other beasts. He had been shown the other trained Talbuk in the stable, their master praising their fleet hooves or sturdy frame, but he would take none of them. He had had his eye on her since the day he first saw her, passing the quaint village to hunt the Ogres who had trespassed so recently on Orcish lands. He demanded her reins as his own, and for a very hefty sum of gold they were; though her trainer, the Orc she considered her best friend, was otherwise highly reluctant to let her go. And so it began that she was to take this man, this Forsaken, wherever he wished to go. A ride through the grand city of Shattrath? Done. A detour through the magnificent and lush Sholazar Basin? Easy! But as they went on, things became progressively more and more dangerous for her. A run through Ice Crown? He was pushing his luck with that one, and they were very lucky that they hadn’t been captured, or worse. Soon enough she found herself in Tanaris desert, running from the Caverns of Time to Gadgetzan. She had been left outside a portal through time by her undead master with no water or food, and the Custodians of Time were too preoccupied to help her thirst or hunger. She was parched and starving, having not been fed in almost two days because of his absence. Upon reaching the desert town, she was tied up outside the inn whilst he went in to converse with his team, and despite her nudges and insistence, he had gone inside without getting her the drink she so desperately needed. When he returned, she was laying on the sand, breathing shallow and unable to move. The other mounts that had been tied to the same hitch as her had worriedly nudged or sniffed at her, but otherwise did nothing to further in case they might harm her. He however had kicked her, told her to rise, yelled at her to obey; and for all she was worth she tried. But, being as tired and weak as she was, she managed little more than to bleat pitifully and shift her legs in the sand. He became outraged, called her worthless and pathetic, and complained at how much gold he has spent for the most magnificent creature he could find to be his mount, to show how great he was as a result, returning to kicking and abusing her physically, her skin splitting from his sharp plate boots. A passing Alliance, a Dwarf who knew well the value of a Talbuk of as evidently high breeding as hers, was somewhat outraged at his actions, and yelled for him to stop, to cease his actions on the barely alive animal. Her master, however, decided that the Dwarf was due a good axe to the face. With her fur already marred by her own blood, the Dwarves’ own was then spilled atop her. Spurred on by the bloodshed and magic in the air, something within her changed. Magic is a powerful force on every world connected by the Twisting Nether, but few had as powerful a tie to magic as Outland. The very land seeped powerful arcane magic, and the wildlife thrived as a result. As a further result, the bodies of these animals are heavy in magical properties, which is what allows some Purebred white Talbuk to have glowing horns and hooves. The blood now seeping all over her body caused a dramatic change in the Talbuk as it interacted with her magical essence. Her coat, once glistening white and pure, changed to an almost rust colour, and her horns and hooves shifted from a mystic purple to a violent red. The crystal affixed to the nose of her head armour picked up on the shift in magic, and also changed, transforming into a deep red ruby. She remembered feeling a pulse of magic surrounding her, and a Gadgetzan guard pulling the dead Dwarf from her body as the magic intensified. The world around her became one of blistering white… **** “I don’t know why you brought me into this;” Whiterobe grumbled as she followed Holly Seams and another unicorn, Bright Globe, into the latter’s basement. “Because we need a third unicorn who knows how to use scrying magic,” Holly Seams replied enthusiastically “and you happened to fit the bill!” Whiterobe sighed in irritable agreement. Granted she did know how to use magic intended for scrying into the future, but she hated experimental magic at the best of times. It was dangerous and often unpredictable, and results of such experiments ended up in her clinic in dire need of medical attention. That she was the one to be here performing such dangerous magic… She’d been the head medical practitioner at Trottingham for almost six years, and in that time she’d seen her fair share of everything. Colds, viral infections, broken bones… She had a friend, Saddleblaze, who was a firefighter and would come in after almost every blaze with multiple burns that would have disabled most ponies. Not Saddleblaze. She was a tough one. She’d come in once with third degree burns to a good forty percent of her body and a collapsed lung acting like it was nothing. The white unicorn had her worries over this experiment, she didn’t want to know how her husband, Clank Clop, would react to her being a part of this, especially since she had been pregnant for almost ten months and was clearly –and proudly- displaying a fine baby-bump. With all the weight she’d been picking up, she was thankful she wasn’t carrying twins. She sighed and sat at one spot at the circle carefully chalked into the wooden floor. Of this she disapproved; that chalk will get into the grains and never go away if not cleaned proper. Bright Globe sat down, waiting for Holly to do the same, before he mumbled a few words. This was an older magic, words were needed to complete it, Whiterobe noted to herself. She waited for Bright Globe to begin casting before joining in, letting her magic intermingle with those of the other two in the room on a crystal ball in the centre of the magic circle. All was going well; the crystal was showing the events of a few months from now, Whiterobe and Clank Clop in the maternity ward with a midwife. She felt a sharp kick from her unborn foal, and she gasped in surprise. Her momentary distraction made her magic flicker. The magic surrounding the crystal ball turned a painfully bright purple, glittering and pulsing disturbingly in the room. The three unicorns, now no longer in control of the spell, hurried to the stairs and hid just behind the door. “What happened?!” Bright Globe snapped. “We were doing so well!” “I’m sorry, the foal has never kicked that hard before and it startled me!” “White, hide behind us; you’re the last pony we want to get hurt!” Holly yelled over the din of the now rogue spell. Not wanting to argue, Whiterobe complied, but she did peek worriedly over their backs. The magic seemed to reach critical mass, growing brighter and brighter until it was a painful and searing white before the crystal globe exploded, throwing glass shards around the room, some of which embedded themselves into the door behind which the ponies hid. Bright Globe looked around at the glass shrapnel embedded in the solid oak and mumbled, “Whoa…” Holly, however, pointed to a figure lying near where the crystal ball had been. “Who is that?” Whiterobe peered past her. “Never seen them before,” She mumbled “They… don’t look like anypony I’ve ever seen.” The trio looked on for a moment or two, noticing that the newcomer didn’t move and barely breathed. Holly’s eye caught on something. “Is that… blood? Beneath them?” She asked worriedly, “Whiterobe, I think they’re injured!” Not missing a beat, Whiterobe hurried over and gently nudged the… creature that lay on the timber floor. From this distance Whiterobe could tell that this was most certainly a she, and that she had a bit of glass in her coat and mane. Her main worry, however, was the blood that gently pooled beneath her and was soaked into almost every inch of her fur. Worriedly she rolled her over, finding her to have been laying on her injuries, and that she was covered in cuts and bruises. Carefully she lifted the sleeping female from the wood with her magic and hurriedly carried her to the door, where she found her baby bump to be somewhat impeding her haste. “H-Holly, carry her upstairs..!” Holly nodded and allowed her magic to take hold of the comatose female before carrying her upstairs and putting her on the couch. Whiterobe followed close behind, and she sat before the injured… whatever she is. Her magic reached out, feeling over her battered body, trying to repair the damage she found. What she found astonished her. “I can’t…” She mumbled. “My… my magic isn’t healing her…” She looked up and over at Bright Globe, her very gaze daring him to argue with her following orders. “Get me a needle, spool of thread, one of your kitchen knives, and a bowl of boiling water!” She snapped at him. “I’m going to have to do this the old fashioned way.” **** Groggily she awoke, blearily aware that she was laying on something soft. She shifted slightly, her body protesting her movement painfully. She still felt as dehydrated and starved as before, and something tugged at her foreleg. Despite having almost no water in her system, her bladder demanded release, and she groaned as her eyes slowly drifted open. A white equine with a crimson mane and tail sat at her side, watching worriedly. She blinked at the odd appearance of the evidently pregnant equine. She was somehow less… normal than what she knew. It was uncanny, but there was just something that didn’t fit, though she couldn’t quite figure out what. As she continued to stare into the eyes of this equine, the feeling faded and she felt more comfortable. The equine spoke, a clear female tone to her voice. “You’re awake.” Her eyes widen and she reels her head from her, spooked by the talking mare. The mare easily noticed her fright and her expression shifted to portray her worry. “P-please don’t be scared, your injuries have not yet healed. I-I did what I could, but I couldn’t do much more than stitch them closed.” She blinked and looked down to see what the white mare was talking about, only to find her body below her shoulders to be covered over in a blanket. The mare, evidently aware that she wanted to see the extent of her injuries, gently moved the blankets from her. Large patches of her pelt had been shaved away around gashes in her skin, where she could see the wounds being held closed by thread. Bruises could be barely seen through her now red fur, the discolouration something that she didn’t quite understand. She groaned and lay her head back down on her pillow, using the fabric to scratch her cheek idly. “Can… can you speak?” She went to bleat in response, but found her voice to respond in words. “I- I… hurt.” She managed, before stopping in momentary shock. She sounded not unlike the Dwarf who had tried to defend her from her owner with a Scotland accent. The mare nodded. “You look like you’ve been thrown down a mountainside, but I did what I could. Normally I’d use my magic to heal you, but you’re somehow resistant. I… I’m sorry for having to shave off your coat, but I needed to see what I was doing.” She nodded faintly, and tried to relax back in the bed before remembering why she had woken; her bladder painfully reminding her of its fullness. She gave the mare a nervous look. “I-is there a bush ‘round ‘ere somewhere I can…” The mare only smiled and nodded. “I’ll help you to the bathroom.” She said, before standing and carefully helping her to her hooves. “And then we’ll see to that dehydration of yours.” After returning from the bathroom and resting back on the bed, the white mare brought her charge a glass and pitcher of water, the glass with a straw to ease the task of drinking from the wounded female’s muscles. While she drinks greedily from the glass, the mare looks over her charge curiously. “I… I do apologise for my ignorance, but… I don’t know what you are.” She mumbled. The female released the straw with a contented sigh, not wanting to make herself sick by drinking too much too quickly. “I…” “For that matter, where did you come from? What should I call you?” She sighed and looked away. “I… I don’t know where I am.” She mumbled. “And I didn’t have ae name. I ‘ad an owner who used me tae ride tae places, but… ‘E never named me. As far as I know m' only name’s ‘space-goat’.” “You’re a goat?” The equine asked. She shrugs. “I guess I must be some sort ae goat, why would ‘e call me that otherwise?” The mare gave a short hum as if considering her question. “Well, my name is Whiterobe; I’m one of the chief medical practitioners at Trottingham Hospital.” The pregnant mare said calmly. “Currently you’re in my house, in the guest bedroom.” This news took a moment or two to sink into the wounded female. She was alone, wounded, and currently in the guest bed of a mare she’d only met a short while ago. Nervously she shifted. “I… I’m sorry tae…” Whiterobe waved a hoof dismissively. “No, no, don’t worry about that.” She hurriedly said. “The hospital is a bit busy, and I don’t think that a public hospital would be the right place for you anyway.” “Why not?” “Well…” Writerobe began, scratching one leg with the hoof of her other nervously, “Let’s just say that a mysterious creature like yourself appearing at our public hospital would raise… media interest.” “Eh? I don’t think I follow..?” “The last thing I want is my hospital to be swarmed by news ponies.” She grumbled. “So for now, you can stay here as a private patient.” She tried to smile warmly, but gave a little gasp and flinched. “You alright Hon,” A voice asked from the door, “I heard you startle.” “I’m fine, Clanky, the foal kicked is all.” She said with a bright blush on her otherwise white features. Another pony stepped in, tan fur and a brown crew-cut mane, his tail kept strictly combed neat and tidy. His eyes fell on the ‘goat’ laying in the bed, who only looked back in nervous worry. He seemed to not notice her differences and just nosed Whiterobe lovingly. “So long as you’re alright hon.” He said. “I’m making salads tonight, you want extra apple in yours? Or are you into the pickle cravings like your mother had?” “Apples!” Whiterobe half shouted as she nodded furiously, and the stallion gave a chuckle. “Alright, I’ll be downstairs starting dinner.” The stallion moved out of the room, and Whiterobe gave a gentle sigh, a contented smile on her face. The nanny, however, only looked on confused and Whiterobe smiled to her. “That’s Clank Clop,” she informed, “he’s the sports teacher at the local school, and he’s also my husband.” “’Husband’?” Whiterobe blinked at her. “Yeah, Husband; I’m married to him, and he’s the father of my unborn foal.” “Oh.” She replied, looking down. “I… my parents weren’t married.” She mumbled. “Not married? Then..?” “My father’s what‘s called ae ‘Patriarch’…” She mumbled, “and my mother was just ‘nother female a’ the ranch I grew up at. I… I was brought up tae be a strong runner.” Whiterobe looked a little nervous. “Brought up how?” “Oh, tha’ usual; pulling ‘eavy loads, running long distances fer hours at a time…” She mumbled. “It builds up the muscles… I’ve run for a solid day through a marshy swamp ‘n been keepin’ good pace, so I’d say my upbringing was ae success.” She offered with a nervous smile. “I only have one other question;” Whiterobe began, though her tone made the ‘goat’ nervous, “Why do your horns and hooves glow?” She looked down at her hooves, actually remembering that she did glow faintly for once. “I… I guess it’d be because where I grew up was full ae magic. Everythin’ would be seepin’ powerful magic there, even th’ waters I drank. It must’ve just… accumulated in me bones and in me hooves. The last thin’ I remember before wakin’ up here was bein’ covered in blood, and no’ jus’ my own mind; I’m guessin’ tha’ the magic which’s very much a part ae me jus’… soaked it up and changed me colour. I used tae be white, and me hooves and horns were purple, but now I look like I’ve been left tae soak in red paint.” “Well, for now, why don’t we call you Crimsondrop?” Whiterobe asked. “If you really think that way, it at least suits your coat.” She blinked and considered the name. Crimsondrop, Crimsondrop… She rolled it around in her head, and it didn’t seem to set off any warning bells. “Yeah, that sounds alright.” Whiterobe allowed Crimsondrop some time to rest before helping her downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Clank Clop seemed to have taken her presence in the guest bedroom as an indication to make extra salad, and Crimsondrop had eaten hers rather swiftly. Whiterobe had watched her eat worriedly, wondering why she ate so ravenously. Crimsondrop, however, acted like her eating had been nothing unusual. It had been almost three days since she had last eaten anything, three long days of slowly starving. The others of her old master’s team had fed and watered their mounts the minute they returned from the portal, but her master had wanted to get going as soon as he returned. She had complained and resisted his urging on, hoping that he’d get the message that she was parched and starving, but eventually relented and just ran as he wanted. This hadn’t been the first time he’d left her without food or water for a while, but it was the hottest and driest she’d ever been. The desert had robbed her body of its moisture, and the long run back to Gadgetzan had taxed her depleted energy to the point of collapse. If she’d had any energy left when he’d started abusing her, she’d have reared up and given him a piece of her mind, preferably one that left him unable to walk. Whiterobe was admittedly curious about the nanny who sat across from her. She ate like every bite was her saving grace, but instead of asking for seconds she waited patiently for her host and her husband to finish eating their respective meals. She didn’t even seem to know that seconds were an option until Clank had asked if she wanted more, and even then she asked if Whiterobe could be served her seconds first. What she was created another mystery for the mare to try and figure out. Some type of magic goat? She’d never heard of anypony in Equestria who had glowing hooves and horns, let alone a goat. Then there came what she’d said earlier, something about an ‘owner’ who used to ‘ride her to places’. While riding another pony from one place to another is not unheard of, especially when the ‘rider’ in question is seriously injured, someone owning another was very, very weird. Then there was a question that had been stuck in her mind for only a few moments, one she decided to voice. “Crimsondrop, why’d you insist that I get seconds first? Not that I’m complaining, but… you’re so underfed I’d have thought…” Crimsondrop gave a small giggle as she chewed her salad, swallowing before she replied. “Durin’ my upbringin’, pregnant nannies got fed first.” She said. “If there wasn’t enough food after their feedin’, th’ rest of us just made do. Future trips ‘re more important than the present one.” She gave Whiterobe a calm and knowing smile. “Y’ may not be of my trip, but old ‘abits die ‘ard.” Whiterobe and Clank Clop blinked in a momentary shared shock. “How... how’d you know that she’s pregnant?” He asked. “She could just be overweight.” His wife gave him an irritable glare, but Crimsondrop only chuckled. "I’ve seen my fair share ae pregnant mares and nannies; ye can’t fool me.” She said, taking a sip of her water while looking over at Whiterobe through a half-open eye. “No offense, but yer about as overweight as my mum was when she was pregnant wi’ me sister at, ooh, nine months?” Whiterobe shifted uncomfortably. “Ten months.” Crimsondrop shrugged, though she didn’t do so without a slight groan of pain. “I was close.” She said. "'sides, she told me earlier." She added with a cheeky grin. **** After Crimsondrop had been returned to the guest bedroom, Whiterobe made an excuse to go out. She had told the resting nanny that she only wanted to go ensure she would be safe to keep some time off from work so as to look after her, but she’d told Clank Clop that she had every intention to go and talk with Phony Paige about this new, strange addition to the town’s population. She was worried; not just for Crimsondrop’s wellbeing, but for her own. Somepony who just pops into existence during the middle of a scrying spell gone awry is someone to show caution around. She could be dangerous, be it willingly or not. Whiterobe knew nothing about her, to be honest about it. For all she knew, Crimsondrop could be… well, evil, for lack of a better word. After all, Nightmare Moon herself had been the charming and quite lovely Princess Luna who had even come to Trottingham for a visit and happened to be in town to reopen the Heavy Hoof after its completed reconstruction. Unlike what her sister Princess Celestia would have, Princess Luna had actually showed some minor irritability at being volunteered for the job on the spot simply because she was in town; though her bad mood was quickly replaced with a smile when the townsponies had cheered as she cut the ribbon. Whiterobe could only imagine how Princess Luna would react if she ever found out that her sister was withholding the fate of the Nightmares from her. Secondly she was worried for her own wellbeing. Again, this new, strange female dumped almost literally into her lap could be dangerous; and with a foal on its way, she wanted to clear her head of these worrying thoughts. She didn’t go to Paige for much these days; the number-crunching pony was, granted, a close friend, but Whiterobe had always been able to sort out her own problems, and she had her husband to lean on for support. But, when times really became hard, she had turned to the sturdy mare for support. Almost two months back, the mixed stresses of being pregnant and the sheer workload she had been handling at the time due to an unfortunate contaminated food incident had taken its toll, and she had gone from her own home to Paige’s and simply walked in, throwing herself against her and breaking down. Paige had been calm and quiet, and had politely listened to her as she blubbed her woes amongst tears. At the end of it all, Paige had given Whiterobe some soothing tea and offered calming idle conversation, as if her emotional breakdown hadn’t happened. It had been oddly effective, especially when, as she was leaving, Paige calmly reminded Whiterobe that she would be there for her, no matter what happened. This had set off another fit of crying, but she’d had a warm fuzzy feeling the whole way home. She knocked on the door, knowing that Paige would be in, and waited for her to answer the door. Instead of Paige, another pony opened the door. Her roomie, Shadow Gazer, was also a recent addition to Trottingham. He was of a reclusive breed of ponies that supposedly lived out in the Everfree Forest, the Nightmares. Manes and tails of magical flames, and dragon-like dagger pupils were two of their most notable differences, the other being their naturally darker coats. They came in the same varieties as normal ponies, Earth, Unicorn and Pegasus. Shadow Gazer was a black Unicorn which, while not strictly a rare colour amongst Equestrian ponies, was as common to Nightmares as white is to their non-Nightmare cousins. Supposedly his grandmother had been a navy blue. His fiery mane and tail of a royal purple illuminated the darkening front porch of the house. He smiled at Whiterobe and let her in, telling her that Paige was in the lounge. She’d nodded and let her feet guide her through the house to where she found Paige reading a large book on the couch. She looked up at Whiterobe and smiled. “Good evening, White,” she said cheerfully, “have you had a good day? Should I put on a pot of tea?” Whiterobe shook her head. “No, no, I’m alright today.” She said, sitting in a nearby chair. “Within reason, anyway.” “Care to elaborate?” Whiterobe shrugged. “I have a… guest at my home.” She said. “She’s… different.” “Different how?” Shadow Gazer asked as he wandered in, a plate of daffodil sandwiches on his back. His horn glittered as he lowered the plate to the table and took a sandwich, holding it up as he took a bite. “She’s not a Nightmare, that much I can assure you,” Whiterobe said, “but… she’s not a Pony either. She says that she’s some kind of goat, but that’s not important, to be honest.” “Okay…” “White, start at the beginning,” Paige instructed. “Well…” ***** Crimsondrop lay on her less injured side staring at the wall. She had only been lightly scratched on that side, so it didn’t hurt her to be on it, unlike the side which Whiterobe had to sew up. Currently she had gauze and cotton pads wrapping up her wounds which she found uncomfortable and constrictive. This wasn’t her main concern. She was… admittedly confused. These whereabouts were new and unusual in a way she couldn’t identify, which unnerved her greatly. Where were the… others? The undead, the Orcs, and the Trolls; where were they? Hell, she’d have been happy to see one of the Alliance races, but there was no evidence of them. Whiterobe had been confused and conflicted when the topic of her master came up, so she decided to try and avoid it in future, but… And her other confusing issue was her understanding and ability to speak. She’d only been able to bleat at best where she came from, but here should speak a fluent language, though admittedly it was with a thick accent. Where had that come from? Had she been granted this new ability when pulled here with magic? Or had her normal vocalizations simply adapted into a language that could be understood in this world? Could there be a third reason, beyond her comprehension? She sighed a little, remembering that she was, effectively, alone here. The thought hit her harder emotionally than she’d thought it would. Alone, the first and only of her kind in this entire world; the closest thing to her own kind she knew was here were goats. She knew they were here, because Whiterobe had shown she knew about them. She had no family here, and her owner would never know what had happened to her, just that she had mysteriously vanished from the middle of Gadgetzan amongst a burst of magic. Subconsciously she started to cry, her tears snaking through her fur as she tried to sort through her now long list of those she would never see again. Her mother, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews… The mounts of her master’s teammates, who she had come to care about as if they were of her own trip, especially the magnificent steed of their Paladin, a mare called Lulu. Lulu had been pregnant for some time, and when she had her foal, a wonderful filly, Crimsondrop had been there alongside her to offer support. The filly had been raised by Lulu for about two months before she was handed to a stable for training into a powerful mare, but the bond built between Lulu and Crimsondrop had been built, and it was a powerful bond. Like all the others, she would never see Lulu or her filly ever again. By this point she’d more than realized she was crying, and she only let it overtake her. She’d not been outside, and already she hated this place. She didn’t know anyone, she didn’t know what the world, or what the residents were like. Were they friendly? Unfriendly? Were they… dangerous? Whiterobe had seemed untrusting of her, sceptical of her. Was she a threat to them, or frightening? She curled up for what she could in the bed. “I want to go home.” She mumbled to no-one, or perhaps even to the universe itself, as if something would hear her plea. “Oh? You don’t like it here?” Clank Clop had been watching Crimsondrop from the door to the guest bedroom for a few minutes now, quietly observing her behaviour. Thus far, he’d established two things: firstly that she was in pain, and secondly that she was distraught. She was crying whilst hiding under the covers. He moved to enter, offer her at least a little comfort, when the door shut in his face. A gentle golden glow surrounded the door, and no matter how hard he pushed he couldn’t manage to budge it. Still, he’d spent some time in the Royal Guard, and he’d even met the Princesses in person a few times, and he could tell that, no matter what he tried, he would not be getting into that room. Celestia herself barred his entry. Crimsondrop looked up at the female equine that towered over her worriedly; this otherwise majestic female had an aura of power unlike any she’d felt before, and she’d once been before the Lich King himself even though it was a blessedly short encounter. She had a pearly white coat, and a glittering mane and tail of blue, pink, and green which flowed in a wind not present. Her wings were spread wide, making her figure only more imposing than ever, and her horn glittered mystically. Her face was split with a cheeky grin. “Wh-who…” The newcomer shifted, her movement cutting off Crimsondrop’s question. “I am Princess Celestia,” she said, “the eldest ruling sister of Equestria, regent of the Sun and day. Though it is rather customary for townsponies to bow, I rather think we can overlook that formality.” Crimsondrop only stared back in confused shock. The amount of magic this… Celestia gave off was immense. She’d only felt this much power in the presence of Alexstrasza, the Matriarch and Aspect of the Red Dragonflight back home. How had she gotten in without being noticed..? With as immense an aura she had, Crimsondrop was fairly certain she would have noticed her entering the door. No, she had just suddenly appeared as if she had been there the whole time. Teleportation maybe? Furthermore, what did she want? Crimsondrop had only been in this realm for a few short hours, surely no messenger could be that fast, unless she lived within the town, in which case she was unsure why she hadn’t come to see her before… “You may be wondering why I’m here.” Celestia began, her cheeky smile unwavering. “To tell you the honest truth, I find myself curious as to the exact opposite. You’re lucky, young Nanny that I managed to detect your arrival and implant what I could into your mind in time.” She nodded faintly at the look of realization spread across Crimsondrop’s features. “Oh yes, it was I who planted your comprehension of our language into your head. “Though I can’t keep calling you ‘Nanny’ now can I? Have you adopted a name?” “C-Crimsondrop…” She mumbled in reply. Celestia’s smile flickered ever so slightly. “Because of your coat, I would assume.” She said, her voice holding only a slight amount of irritation. “Well, Crimsondrop, I-“ The door thundered heavily, cutting off Celestia’s next sentence and grabbing their attention. “Open the door, Princess!” Clank Clop’s voice shouted. “Don’t make me call the town guard!” Celestia sighed and let the door open. Clank Clop stepped into the room and, after bowing to the Princess respectfully, dawdled over to Crimsondrop and looked her over. “I hope you have an excuse for interrupting, Clank Clop,” Celestia began irritably. "White told me to keep an eye on her patient, and I can hardly do that through a closed door.” He grumbled. He seemed to not really care who he was talking to, or the tone in which he was speaking to her. Celestia, despite the appearances she should be keeping up, only looked amused at his insubordinate behaviour. “Well, at least I know you’re getting used to no longer being a Royal Guard, Clank Clop.” She joked. “Princess, I will be beating myself up over this later.” He said bluntly, well aware that he would spend at least an hour hyperventilating under the bed in the master bedroom once the Princess left. “But until then I’ll continue to fling the ‘this is my house’ authority about until it wears off.” Celestia gave a faint chuckle at his words before returning her attention to Crimsondrop. “In any case, Crimsondrop; I have been considering all of the options which could pertain to your unique situation, and I can assure you that they have all been strictly thought over. Unfortunately, the only solution that is best for all is for you to stay here in Equestria.” “B-but..!” “I’m sorry, Crimsondrop, but to send you back to where you came from would require another freak magical accident, and I am uncertain if you would survive the physical forces that could take place within such an anomaly. To be honest, I am unsure how you survived the first one.” “B-but..! I want to go home! I don’t belong here!” “I understand, Crimsondrop, but there’s nothing I can do.” Celestia mumbled apologetically. Clank Clop headed out of the room upon hearing a sound at the front door, leaving them alone in the room. “Please understand.” Crimsondrop heaved under the blanket, her tears running through her fur and dampening the bed beneath her as she stared at where they hit the bed. “Just… go.” She mumbled sadly. She heard Celestia shift slightly, and she breathed in sharply. “Go away!” She whipped her head up to glare angrily at Celestia, only to be staring into a blank wall. With a sob she tugged the blankets over her head and broke down.