It wasn’t so much that I was nervous about heading home by myself, even if it was a day-long train ride. Twilight had been smart enough to get all of us round-trip tickets. It was more the fact that I was lonely on the way back. I had no one to talk to, and even being occupied with the books Twilight had given me didn’t help much. I didn’t know anypony else on the train, so I didn’t really have anyone to pass the time with. All I could do was sit and read as the train rattled on back toward Ponyville.
I was still sore about being ousted like that by Mr. Pie, but then again, as I had already said, it was Pinkie who mattered in this situation, not me. Besides, she hadn’t been friends with me nearly as long as Twilight and the others. They deserved the chance to sit and talk with the Pies more than me. I know that sounds kinda pessimistic, but I like to think I was just trying to be considerate.
I will say this, though: the sleep overnight on the train was not as peaceful. How ironic was it that I complained about Rainbow snoring, yet now, it was too quiet? At least with her snoring, it was a sign that she had been on the train with me, but now, with nothing but the rattling of the train as it sped along, I was reminded of how alone I was and how far away the others were by now. They would be a full day away, and I wouldn’t be able to contact them about anything…Oh, well. What was the worst that could happen?
***
After a good breakfast in the dining car, I looked out the window to see Ponyville on the horizon. It was going to feel weird without any of my familiar pals with me, but I still had the Hooves, the Crusaders, Lyra, Bon Bon, heck, a whole town full of ponies I still knew and liked. What was I saying? I wasn’t going to be in want of company. Still, Pinkie’s group was the one I was most familiar with.
The train screeched to a halt, and I stepped down, intending to head straight home and find that newspaper about me, see what was in it that had ticked off Mr. Pie. I had barely started down the platform, however, when I bumped into someone in front of me.
“Whoops! I’m so sorry! I should have watched where I was going!”
“Oh, no, no trouble at all. It’s quite…Oh! Well, hello!”
I looked down at the mare I had just bumped into. She was a unicorn, about Mrs. Cake’s size, and close to her in build, too. She had a yellow coat, a neatly-combed red mane and tail, and green eyes. She was wearing what looked like a blue business jacket, but wasn’t wearing pants or a skirt to go with it. That was one of the weirder things I noticed about these ponies. Whenever they did dress up, they only wore shirts, jackets, dresses, or hats, but never clothing for the lower body when it was what should have been a two-piece ensemble. Then again, they normally went around completely nude, but it was still an odd quirk to me. Maybe they just didn’t want to obscure their cutie marks…
She was accompanied by a scrawny, skinny red pegasus stallion with a long black mane beneath a brown news cap. He had a long Fu Manchu-style mustache and purple eyes, and had a shrewd, intelligent face.
The mare was smiling broadly at me, showing a single gold tooth among her pearly whites.
“I was hoping to have a chance to see you,” she said.
“Er, do I know you?” I asked, confused by her demeanor.
“Not personally, but you must have seen some of my work,” said the mare, sidling up. “Name’s Tribune, Dolly Tribune, correspondent for the Ponyville Express. And this is my camera-colt, Papa Razzo.”
The pegasus nodded politely, without speaking.
“Oh,” I said, not quite sure how I was supposed to respond. “Well, I have read the paper before, and I think I remember-”
“Oh, splendid!” said Dolly, cutting across me. “Then let me be the first to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?”
“‘For what’, he asks,” said Dolly, in an amused tone to her camera-colt. “Isn’t he a gem, Razzo?”
Razzo gave something like a wheezy chuckle, not unlike Muttley’s.
“Why, for putting your face in the paper without your permission, of course,” said Dolly, screwing her face up into a look of sympathy. “You wouldn’t believe the field day I had, honey. As soon as the article went into circulation, I told myself, ‘Dolly, you ditz! You got the scoop, but didn’t speak to the scoop-ee! How do you think he feels about it?’ I could have beat my own brains out for such a lapse of judgment!”
Razzo affected a grave look, taking off his cap and gazing mournfully skyward, as if he were silently begging Heaven’s forgiveness.
“It wasn’t fair to you, sweetie, and all I can do is give you my deepest of apologies,” said Dolly, raising herself on her hind legs and leaning against me, one foreleg over her forehead in a dramatic display. It wasn’t just weird to watch, but uncomfortable to experience, as she wasn’t exactly a lightweight, and nearly threw me off balance.
“Well, the truth is,” I said, in a strained voice, “I haven’t actually read that edition yet. I’ve been out of town, you see, hence why I’m here at the station.”
“Oh!” said Dolly, seeming to come to herself again, and a look of delighted hope appeared on her face. “Then the damage might not even be done! I can spare you the injustice of editiorial exclusion!” she added dramatically, pointing her hoof skyward and throwing the other around my shoulders. This lady was really starting to creep me out…
“By which you mean…?” I asked.
“By which I mean an exclusive interview, of course!” said Dolly, getting back onto all fours. “You know, give the readers the chance to know the real you.”
“An interview? Well…I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like too bad an idea-”
“Wonderful!” interrupted Dolly. “How about right here? Have a seat.”
She gestured to a station bench close by, and I sat down on it. Razzo cleared his throat and nudged his boss.
“Hmm? Oh! Of course. I hope you’ll forgive me, editorial protocol, but we have to take a quick snapshot of you.”
“A photo?”
“Yes, indeed. It would add that certain personal touch to your anecdote.”
She grinned, the one gold tooth shining through a sea of white.
“Well-”
“Lovely! Razzo?”
Fast as lightning, Razzo whipped out, from nowhere, an old-fashioned camera and held it up. I affected to smile, though I was so flustered, I didn’t know how I looked, and the flash from the camera blinded me. I don’t even know how many he took.
“Lovely!” said Dolly, again. “Now, let’s get started.”
She hopped onto the bench, sitting as I did, and sidled up beside me. It reminded me of Lyra, if Lyra were older and larger. She had pulled out a notepad and a brown quill.
“To start off, your name.”
“Dave.”
“Is that a common human name?”
“Yeah. Well, it’s short for David, but I prefer going by Dave.”
She began writing feverishly on her pad.
“Oh, don’t worry about this,” said Dolly, seeing where I was looking. “Eyes on me, please.”
“Erm, all right.”
“Now, where do you come from? Where do you live?”
“Er, well, I come from another world entirely, and I currently live outside Ponyville.”
“Another world?” asked Dolly, astonished, her quill whizzing across the page. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I live on Earth, but the Earth I’m from doesn’t possess talking ponies.”
“My, my, my…” muttered Dolly. “That is peculiar…I don’t suppose you can elaborate?”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said, ruefully. “I can’t remember what I was doing before I came to Ponyville. I was just laying out on the grass when I was discovered.”
Dolly and Razzo looked at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel that the glance between them meant something, though I didn’t know what.
“You say you were discovered?” asked Dolly. “Who found you?”
“Pinkie Pie.”
“Ahh, Miss Pinkie Pie!” said Dolly, smiling. “Charming filly. Helps run Sugarcube Corner, I believe. Between you and me,” she added, confidentially, “I can’t stay away from the place. Their stuff’s too good! Of course, I can’t say it does me much good. Goes right to my rump.”
I glanced at her. She wasn’t really fat, but she was a little bigger than the average pony.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “You look fine.”
“Oh, thank you, honey,” said Dolly, “but I was only kidding around. So, tell me about yourself and Pinkie Pie. Would you call her your best friend?”
“Easily,” I said. “She was the one who discovered me, showed me around Ponyville, introduced me to her friends, let me stay in her room in Sugarcube Corner until I could get my own home.”
“Ahh, so the two of you were roomies! How sweet! You must really care about her.”
“W-Well, yeah,” I said, somewhat caught off-guard. “She’s the first friend I made here. She’s always been there for me. I owe my stay in Ponyville to her.”
Dolly merely smiled. Her quill, having exhausted one page, moved on to the next.
“Do you remember anything about your home?”
“Of course. I lived with my mother and father, and…”
I paused. An uncomfortable feeling began welling in my throat at remembering my folks.
“And?”
“And…well, I left so abruptly. I was, and still am, worried about how they think of what might have happened to me. I never even said goodbye…”
“You miss them?” asked Dolly, in a tone of sympathy.
“Continuously…”
Dolly patted my arm in a consoling way, as the quill continued to zoom.
“But do you find yourself at home here in Ponyville?”
“It took a little getting used to at first,” I admitted. “One does not simply step into a town full of candy-colored equines. Pinkie and her friends helped me adjust, though, and I would have to say, yes, I feel at home in Ponyville.”
“Have you found employment yet?”
“I have, actually. Well, after a fashion. I met with Princess Celestia about a week ago-”
“Ah, you’ve met the Princess! I’ll bet she was quite taken with you,” said Dolly, winking roguishly.
“She was very gracious, if that’s what you mean,” I responded, blushing at Dolly’s suggestion. “And so I was given a job on-call within her royal staff. Kind of an ambassador, you might say.”
“Ohh, how fantastic!” said Dolly. “Just what Equestria needs: someone who can really represent true ‘human nature’! I think we can expect great things from that!”
“You think so?”
“I know so. One last question: if given the chance, would you leave Equestria behind to return to your old home?”
I took a little time to answer this; it reminded me of the day Twilight revealed that spell to me.
“…I would,” I said, “but not without saying goodbye to everypony. I already made that mistake once…”
“Ah, of course, of course…” said Dolly, in an understanding way. “Well! I think that’s enough to go on!”
The quill stopped, dotted the page with a period, and Dolly stashed it and the notepad away.
“Thank you very much for your time, honey,” she said, getting up. “I hope we may meet again very soon for another little chat. Our readers would love it.”
“Um, sure, why not?” I responded, with a shrug. She was a little weird, but kind of nice, actually.
“Come along, Razzo,” said Dolly. “Toodles, Dave!”
And she set off down the platform, Razzo trotting beside her. After they had gone, I too made my way off the platform and for home.
***
As I half-expected, Ironmane was waiting for me with my bag of dues, and he was looking even more sour than usual.
“I know I’m late, but I have an excuse,” I said, pointedly. “I was escorting Pinkie Pie to visit her family. They live down south from Ponyville.”
“Indeed?” asked Ironmane, raising an eyebrow. “Well, perhaps the time taken in preparing prevented you from seeing it.”
“Seeing what?” I asked, confused.
“This!” Ironmane spat, holding up a Friday edition of the Ponyville Express. I looked at it, and felt the blood drain from my limbs.
There, on the front cover, was a picture of me on last Monday, singing and dancing, a mug in my hand. Beside me danced Rainbow Dash and Berry Punch. The article read as follows:
“The Ponyvillian Human: Life of the Party?”
by Dolly Tribune
‘Ponyville is not exempt from the occasional perplexing phenomena. Few will ever forget the rampaging dragon that savaged the streets, nor the brief, yet equally terrifying, appearance of Cerberus. However, this may be one for the record books, even in Ponyville’s own prodigious accounts of the bizarre.
Barely two weeks ago, Ponyville was graced by an unexpected, and quite alarming, visitor: a human. The first human, in fact, to have been seen in Equestria for many years. Pony scholars still debate whether or not humans of Equestria have truly existed, as evidence has proven either inconclusive, or has been proven fabricated by fanatics. One Lyra Hearstrings, in fact, has been accused several times of false rumors about human existence, though she stubbornly persists to this day. Well, it seems luck is finally shining down on Miss Heartstrings, as Ponyville is blessed with incontrovertible proof of human existence. We were even lucky enough to get an inside scoop about the town’s newest inhabitant by the very same pony.
“He’s a little scary when you first see him,” says Miss Heartstrings, “but he’s actually really nice once you get to know him. I feel so happy! I’ve been telling my friend Bon Bon for years that humans were out there, and now, along comes a real live human! And he wants to be my friend!” The rest of Miss Heartstrings commentary was obscured by an excessive amount of excited squeals.
‘Indeed, the human, from what has been seen thus far, does not, despite his prodigious height, appear to possess any of the brutish or savage personality traits often associated with the lore of more skeptical pony intellectuals, who wish to affirm that they were uncouth and uncivilized. On the contrary, he presents an amiable attitude, and has often been seen, when not wandering the streets, to be in the company of Ponyville’s own party planner extraordinaire, Pinkie Pie, who has been heard to affectionately refer to her human companion as ‘Davie’. The Express was not able to gain an interview with Miss Pie, but the level of attachment between the two is apparent. Can there be something beyond mere friendship between the party-planning pastry chef and her foreign tagalong?
This Monday, however, at the introduction of Sweet Apple Acres’ annual cider season, human Dave displayed very lively and comical behavior upon drinking nationally-renowned Apple family cider, breaking into a song he dubbed ‘I Feel Witty’, which bore remarkable similarity to the famous ‘I Feel Pretty’ of West Stable Story. Pony historians and scientologists argue whether or not this display of euphoria should be amusing or alarming, as those of grimmer predispositions fear it may prove to be a demonstration of the unpredictability human Dave might exhibit at any time, offering credence to his connection to the humans of the past. Only time will tell whether or not this gentle giant might turn wild, but for the time being, all the Express can say is that he certainly loves his cider.
I gaped, open-mouthed, at the paper. Was this the scoop Dolly Tribune had published without my consent? Was this what had made Mr. Pie wary of my presence on his farm? It wasn’t at all what I had been expecting, though I had been half-dreading what it could be.
“I…I don’t know what I can say,” I said, finally. “I just met Dolly Tribune. We had a chat, and she seemed really nice.”
“She would,” growled Ironmane. “That’s how she reels her catches in: butters them up, and doesn’t let them see what she writes. The damage has already been done, I suppose, but mind yourself next time. She can get very nasty when you give her the right kind of bait…”
“Er, yes, sir,” I said, forgetting my grudge against Ironmane in light of this. I was already wondering how she might twist my little interview with her…
“Is she that bad?” I finally asked.
“Bad?” asked Ironmane. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to call her evil, but she’s a little too free with her editorial powers. Seems to give her the idea that she can write what she pleases. I take it you’ve heard of Gabby Gums?”
“I heard mention, yeah.”
“Well, Gabby Gums was, literally, kid’s stuff. Tribune’s worst pieces can get pretty nasty. Invasive of privacy, twisting words around, that sort of thing. Just mind your step around her. Don’t give her an excuse to gossip about you.”
I stared at Ironmane. Was he really concerned about my safety and reputation?…
He seemed to guess what I was thinking, as he said, snappishly,
“Don’t let your ideas run away with you, human. I’m only warning you so you don’t blacken the name of Her Majesty’s court. It would be an insufferable embarrassment if a member of staff was turned into a piece of wild gossip.”
Of course. He’d never admit he had my interests at heart. Well, never mind. It seemed fitting that way…
“Your weekly allowance,” Ironmane grunted, hefting the bag into my hand. “Use it wisely, of course.”
“Thank you,” I said, stiffly, and Ironmane swept off without another word.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to be civil and mean it,” I muttered after him, pocketing the bag of coins. I glanced at the paper left in my hand. He had a point, though. I suppose I would have to be careful from now on, if I didn’t want Dolly libeling me. Still, she seemed nice. Could she really be dishonest, intentionally harmful?…
“Well! Who is it I find here? Why, of course! It’s you, Dave, my dear.”
I jumped. The voice, though familiar, came right the flip out of nowhere, and right when my mind was preoccupied. I whipped around, and found myself facing Zecora, wearing her brown cloak, but with the hood down, and she was smiling.
“Zecora! You startled me. How are you?”
“Very good, I’m glad to say, but what leaves you so harassed today?”
“Oh…quite a few things,” I said, with a grim smile. “It’s a long story. Why don’t you come in? This is my home, after all.”
Zecora’s smile broadened, clearly glad for this display of hospitality. I opened the door, and she stepped inside.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much,” I said. “I’d offer you some tea, but I don’t have any tea leaves, just water to boil.”
I went to the kitchen and brought out a teapot and a pair of mugs as evidence. Zecora, however, said,
“That little detail shall not be a pest. You may boil the water, I shall do the rest.”
Confused, I complied, filling the pot with water and setting it on the stovetop, turning up the heat to let it boil. Zecora reached under her cloak and pulled out a small brown leather pouch tied with string. She opened it, reached inside with her hoof, and, holding it over each mug, dropped what looked like a pinch of dark-green leaves into each of them. They must have been some kind of tea leaf.
Soon enough, the teapot began to sing, and I carefully lifted it off and poured it out into the two mugs. A strong, bitter aroma filled the air, though it was not altogether unpleasant. Zecora nodded in a satisfied way and, taking one mug between her hooves, sat down at the little table I had in the kitchen. Taking the other, I sat beside her. Gingerly, I took a sip of the tea. The heat and bitter taste stung at my tongue at first, but once it started to cool, it proved quite good.
“I hope you can forgive me for not visiting you often, Zecora,” I said. “After what happened last time in the forest, I’m not too keen on a repeat.”
Zecora laughed softly.
“I quite understand, do not apologize. The forest holds many things not for pony eyes. But let us not speak of that place, and tell me what has given you a grim face.”
After taking a deep breath, I told her about the string of woes I had recently experienced: being bullied about by Ironmane, my disaster of a first mug of cider, being excluded from the Pies’ home, and finding about my unflattering appearance in the paper. The only thing I left out was my fallout with Trixie. All I said about her was that I had had a ‘disagreement with a friend’. Zecora, however, who had been listening attentively, had an odd expression on her face as I said this.
“This friend of yours, who might she be, to suddenly treat you so unkindly?”
“Er…I can’t really say,” I said, hesitantly. Cast away as I was, I couldn’t just forgo my promise to Trixie about her location.
Zecora raised an eyebrow.
“She’s…in a delicate position,” I said. “She doesn’t want to come out into the open for reasons of her own.”
“So she prefers to hide herself away, does she? I would not expect that from a pony like Trixie.”
“No kidding. With how grand she makes herself, I-”
I stopped short, feeling as though a lump of ice had fallen into my chest. I stared at Zecora, who gazed, unassumingly, back at me.
“H-How did you…?” I asked, feeling terrified. Could she read minds?!
“I see much when I choose to walk the land,” said Zecora, simply. “I passed through the woods, and noticed her caravan. I had heard Trixie had come back to town, but I had not known she chose to stick around.”
“I, uh…” I hesitated. Then, with a gulp, I said, “She made me swear not to tell anyone about where she is. If she found out-”
“It will not be your fault, because, you see, I found out for myself. You did not tell me.”
“…Yeah, I guess that’s true,” I admitted.
“Now, what has happened between you two? What’s brought this bad mojo floating around you?”
“…I don’t want her to stay cooped up in her caravan. I want her to be able to come out again, be able to step out into Ponyville with her head held high. I guess I ticked her off by hinting at it, however, because she threw me out on Friday.”
Zecora nodded knowingly, and said,
“The haughty do not welcome hearing their own faults. It is like dousing their wounds in bitter salts.”
I cringed from that mental image.
“But I don’t know what to do, Zecora. I was only trying to look out for her. She’d been looking kind of ill lately.”
Zecora raised her eyebrow again, questioningly.
“Well, you know…kind of pale, lines in her face, bags under her eyes. Her voice was kind of croaky, too.”
To my surprise, Zecora looked alarmed.
“And what of her magic? Was it off as well? Did it splutter when she tried to cast a spell?”
She asked this so sharply that I didn’t know what to say at first. However, casting my mind back to that time, I tried to recall what I had seen.
“…Now that I think about it…Yeah. Her aura was shuddery, like a badly-tuned TV.”
Zecora jumped up onto all fours, upsetting the mugs, which only had trickles of tea left.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, disconcerted. “Is it serious?”
“It may very well be, if we do not make haste! Quickly, Dave, we haven’t a moment to waste!”
Terrified of what Zecora might be thinking about, I jumped to my feet and followed her out the door, and we sped, full-speed, for Trixie’s caravan.
***
I hammered on the door when we reached it, but no answer came from within.
“Trixie?” I called. “Trixie! Open up!”
Still no answer.
Zecora went to look into one of the windows, and let out a despairing moan.
“Oh, this is bad as it could be…She is very ill, Dave. Come and see…”
I hurried to Zecora’s side and looked in, and I let out a groan like she had.
Trixie was lying on her bed, eyes half-opened and looking unfocused. She was very pale, and she was breathing hard. Her horn was sparking and spluttering, like a firework about to be set off.
“Trixie!” I yelled, worry filling up in me. I rushed to the door and pushed against it. It swung open, and I barreled in, rushing to the prostrated unicorn. I put a hand to her forehead. It was damp with sweat and very warm.
“She’s burning up,” I croaked to Zecora, who was looking grave.
I scooped Trixie into my arms, where she hung limply, like a rag doll, and I carried her outside. I wasn’t going to let her stay like this, even if she didn’t like me anymore…
“She needs medical attention,” I told Zecora. “Is there a chance…?”
“She may last, but haste is what we need,” said Zecora, still looking discomforted. “Head to Ponyville Hospital with all your speed!”
“Do you know the way? Can you lead me?”
Zecora nodded and, without another word, sprinted off, me close behind and still carrying Trixie.
“…Dave?…”
I looked down into her face. She was staring up at me through bleary eyes.
“You’re gonna be ok, Trixie, I promise,” I panted.
Trixie didn’t answer, but her eyes closed, as if she were nodding off to sleep. She made no other movements as we sped for the hospital, every second needed for whatever had infected her. Even if I didn’t know what it was, the alarm in Zecora’s voice and face was enough for me.
(Just hang on, Trixie, I prayed, hang on…)