//------------------------------// // Unpleasant Truths // Story: The Last Crusade // by CyborgSamurai //------------------------------// Chapter 4: Unpleasant Truths “We need to get help,” I said. The four of us were now in the living room after confirming that Phil had had the same nightmare as us. He was understandably shaken up from it, and he'd wrapped himself in a blanket as he sat shivering on the couch. Mike was slowly massaging his back to calm him down. “From who?” Dylan asked. There was a click as he pulled out the recliner footrest. “I don’t have any ponies on my friend lists, last I checked. You holding out on us, Mage?” “Not from other ponies, idiot.” I adjusted myself in the loveseat. “I mean from the authorities or something! This is bigger than us. We’re not going to be able to handle it on our own!” “Says who?” Mike used his free hand to pull the Internet back up on his computer. “We don’t even fully know what’s going on! Besides, a shared dream and a bunch of similarities to a group of cartoon characters isn’t going to mean anything to doctors or cops. All they’re going to look at are the changes to our bodies.” “How much farther do you think the changes are gonna go?” Phil pulled his blanket closer to himself. “I’m already not going to be able to go to work like this. Heck, at this rate we’re not gonna be able to even go out in public!” He brought up a good point. I looked down at my bare feet and poked one of my heels. It didn’t hurt, but the muscles below my ankle felt dull for some reason. It was too soon to say for sure, but between the lack of feeling and the standing on tiptoes, I’d a pretty good idea of what was happening down there. “We’re probably going all the way,” I said with reluctance. “Think about it. Our ears, eyes and hair have already gone pony, and it looks like our feet are next. I hate to admit it, but I see no reason why the rest of our bodies won’t follow suit.” Mike sighed. “Figures. I was planning on asking out this cute girl that started working front desk last week. Doubt she’s interested in dating cross-species.” Dylan waggled his eyebrows. “I dunno, chicks dig hor—waaaaaaait a second!” He sat upright and gripped the sides of the recliner. “We think we’re turning into the Cutie Mark Crusaders, right?” I flattened my ears. Which, by the way, was a very weird sensation. “Glad to see you’ve been paying attention.” Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Well apparently you haven’t, because last I checked, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were girls.” I don’t know why that took so long to register with me. Maybe it was because I’d known the Crusaders’ genders for years, so I merely took his announcement as statement of fact. Maybe it was because I was flustered by all of this and I was having trouble making connections. Or maybe it was because my mind had already accepted it on a subconscious level. Regardless of the reason, though, it was several seconds before the weight of what he’d said hit me, but when it did, I crossed my legs with a cringe. “Eso no es bueno,” I mumbled. “Yeah,” Dylan agreed, “and here’s another thing for you to feel stupid about: I just realized we’ve been calling each other by our pony names every so often since we watched the show. Heck, we’ve even been occasionally using feminine pronouns!” My earlier dizziness returned as I looked back at the past hour and realized she—no, he was  right! Damn it, the physical changes were bad enough, but our minds were being affected, too?! To what extent? Would we have to coexist inside the same body? Was my personality going to get overridden by hers? Were we going to fuse together somehow so that the end result was a little bit of me, and a little bit of her? “You guys can’t be serious!” Phil began wringing a portion of his mane in his hands. “You’re saying that not only are going to have to turn in our man cards, we’re also being brainwashed?!” Dylan shrugged. "I don’t think anything is going to happen to ‘us,’ if you catch my meaning. Remember Discord’s poem? He said the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ memories would be removed. I figure he completely blanked their minds, then transported their bodies to merge with similar humans that were just turning twenty-five. In other words, us.” I was on the verge of fearing for my life. I had hopes and goals and dreams of my own, and I’d worked my ass off to get my career off the ground. I was financially stable, reasonably happy, and my overall future looked bright. I was going to lose all of that. I was going to be paraded around like a freak in a side-show carnival. Everything I knew and loved would be taken away from me. I'd— I shook my head. Falling into a downward spiral would get me nowhere. I was a logical, mature adult, I wasn't going to devolve into a blubbering mass. I would keep it together, if not for myself, then for the others. I was the one who knew the most about this, and the others were looking to me for strength. I never saw myself as the leader of our group, but right now it was my turn in the Captain's chair. I refused to leave it wet for the next person. “Why twenty-five, though?” Phil asked. “That seems like a pretty random number.” Dylan looked up at the ceiling. “Even just from a dream, I can tell that nothing about Discord makes any kind of sense. Mage called him the spirit of Chaos and Disharmony, which is probably the only two things he’s consistent about. He very well could’ve chose twenty-five just because he liked the sound of it. I don’t think it’s worth trying to figure out Discord’s motivations when we’ve got more pressing things to worry about... like how we’re all going to have to take our leaks sitting down pretty soon.” “I don’t think ponies actually use toilets,” Mike said. He then looked thoughtful and turned to me. “Do they?” I held up my hands. “Don’t look at me. The only thing I know about is stuff from the show. I’ve no idea how close that is to anything.” “Our changes have been spot-on so far,” Phil said. He rotated Mike’s laptop, which currently displayed a picture of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “You may as well tell us everything you know. I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’ll make me feel better if I've at least an idea of what to expect.” “You’ll get more answers from that than me.” I pointed at the MLP box set on the coffee table. “I actually wouldn’t mind a refresher course, myself.” Phil frowned. “No thanks. I’d rather you just told us the important parts.” “It's kind of addictive, anyway,” Dylan said as he tapped the side of his head. “Or did you not notice how we both got sucked in?” Phil gave him a questioning look. “When’d you see it?” Dylan fished around in his pocket for his cigarettes. “Swee—Mage finally whittled me down while you were sleeping. I don’t recommend watching it unless you want hours to fly by like minutes.” I pursed my lips. I’d no problem with nerding out on them, but the problem was that I had no idea how much of the show was true. Were Ponyville and Canterlot real places? Did Equestria really have cartoon physics? Were Celestia and Luna really thousands of years old? Did Derpy really love muffins? “I suppose I can fill you in, but I don’t want you guys taking everything I say as Word of God.” I picked at a stray cushion thread. “I understand that you guys are flying blind, but my view of things isn’t much clearer, so just keep that in mind.” There was an assortment of nods in response, so I gathered my thoughts and began telling them everything that I knew about the show. I started with a brief history of Equestria, which included the unification of the three tribes, Discord, and Luna’s fall and ultimate purification. I was then about to go into detail about the Mane Six, but then Dylan pointed out that a general description of the races would be more beneficial. I covered the differences between alicorns, earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi instead, which ironically wound up taking longer than the history part, as the guys kept interrupting me with questions. It also didn’t help that I kept getting distracted by their hair, which was continuing to change as I talked. Their new colors kept creeping closer and closer to their heads, until finally their hair was fully colored and was completely like a pony’s mane. I forced myself not to think about what mine looked like and finished with a description of the show’s plot and the Elements of Harmony. “Originally, the show took place from Twilight’s perspective as she settled in Ponyville and learned lessons about how to be a good friend to others.” I closed my mouth and licked my teeth. “That focus later shifted to all the Bearers learning those same lessons, and then again to just generic adventures with morals attached to them. The lessons that each Bearer learned helped keep them in sync with their respective Elements, which, as was shown when they fought Discord, was necessary for the relics to be wielded to their fullest extent.” “So the title of the show is literal,” Mike said. I looked over at him. “What do you mean?” Mike rested his elbows on his knees. “It sounds like friendship is an actual source of energy that's used as a weapon in this universe. The most powerful weapon, even. Certainly more powerful than anything humans have made, unless you know of some technology that can seal goddesses and spirits away for thousands of years.” “Humans aren’t fans of long-term imprisonment,” Dylan said with a grim smirk. “We tend to prefer more permanent solutions.” “How is a Bearer chosen?” Phil cut in. “Are they pre-destined for it, or can anyone become one?” I didn’t respond at first. I wanted to say it was destiny because there’d been insinuations that such a thing existed in the show, but if that was the case, how did Celestia and Luna become disconnected from the Elements after the Nightmare Moon incident? Was it their destiny to leave Equestria without its greatest defense for one thousand years? It was never mentioned what kinds of dangers Celestia faced in the millennium she ruled alone, but if the frequency of the series’ problems was any indication, she’d probably wished she’d had the Elements on more than one occasion. I looked out the window to find that the sun had already gone down. “That’s never been fully explained, but it’s implied that a Bearer can become disconnected from their Element if they fall too far away from what it represents. When that happens, the Element will bond to someone new who’s compatible with it.” Dylan rolled his shoulders. “That’d explain why Celestia hid ‘em in the Everfree. I’ll bet she didn’t want the power falling into the wrong hooves—er, hands.” Mike put his feet up on the coffee table. “What if a Bearer dies or becomes disabled somehow? Does their Element still stay bonded to them?” I laughed incredulously. “We’re talking about a cartoon for little girls! Not even the villains—er, scratch that, there was one that bit the dust, but none of the heroes ever even got seriously hurt in the show. I’d guess that the answer is yes, but I don’t know for sure.” “So if I’m hearing you right,” Phil said slowly, “it’s possible for anyone to become a Bearer, so long as they’re in range of an unbonded Element and they’re compatible with it?” “That would make sense.” I closed my eyes and remembered what Discord had said to Sweetie.  “Also, I think immediate family members somehow resonate with a Bearer’s Element. Though I don’t know whether it’s because of DNA, having similar personalities, or some kind of ‘magical spillover.’” Dylan suddenly let out a yelp. Mike and Phil did as well a fraction of a second later. I was about to ask what was wrong when I felt something stab my tailbone. We all leapt up in surprise, and I reached back to see if whatever had jabbed me had drawn blood. I stiffened. I didn’t feel anything wet, but I did feel something else I hadn’t expected yet. “Hey Babs,” I said. “Got a pair of scissors?” Phil pulled out his new red, two-toned tail and glowered at me. “Don’t call me that.” I chuckled weakly and pulled out my own. It was much like my mane, which was to say, pink, purple, and incredibly curly. I tried to see if I could move it, and found that it had about as much range of motion as my shoulders. Mike watched Phil go into the kitchen. “You know, I doubt we’re the only ones this is happening to.” Dylan raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure?” Phil came back with a pair of scissors and handed them to Mike, who cut a hole in the back of his jeans and threaded his tail through it. “Discord’s poem also said something about ‘scattering the six.’ I assume he meant the Mane Six, which means he did the same thing to them as us. They might be in the human world somewhere.” I thought about the implications of that as Mike handed me the scissors. It was comforting to think that we might not be alone, but we may as well be without knowing where any of our fellow soon-to-be ponies were. Trying to find them would be next to impossible without some kind of lead, and if we weren’t careful about it, we could attract the wrong kind of attention. “We should look on the Internet.” I pointed at the laptop. “Try doing a Google search for the things that have happened to us and see if anything comes up. Maybe someone’s made a Facebook post or something.” Mike took care to move his tail out of the way before sitting back down and pulling the coffee table closer. Meanwhile, Phil pulled out his phone. “What’cha doing?” Dylan asked him. “Calling my family,” Phil replied. “I’m curious to know if any of them have been affected by this. You guys should probably do the same.” “I don’t know if asking outright is a good idea,” I said. “Then be subtle about it.” Phil walked down the stairs and went down into the basement. “Hey, Mom? Yeah, I just woke up a little bit ago... the party went fine, we all had a good time. Listen, there’s something I wanna ask you...” I exhaled out my nose as I watched Dylan pull out his phone as well and go into the kitchen. It was true we needed help, but I worried that our families might be more of a detriment than an asset. They weren’t going to know what to do anymore than us, for one, and getting too many people involved would do nothing but bog things down. There was also the issue of having to explain what we were turning into, and I really didn’t feel like fielding questions like that over and over. I hung my head and happened to glance at my feet again. The changes down there had continued, and now my middle toe was significantly larger with a thicker toenail. I also noticed that I had even less feeling below my ankle, and thought idly about how difficult operating a brake and gas pedal was going to be pretty soon. I realized with a start that we’d most likely be stuck wherever we were in twenty-four hours unless there was another person with us who could run errands and the like. Suddenly getting family involved didn’t seem like such a bad idea. It wouldn’t hurt to at least touch base with them and drop a few vague questions, but I wasn’t gonna go any farther than that just yet. There was a reason why I’d never told my parents about MLP, and as far as I was concerned, the less they knew, the better. Shmangie would be much more open and understanding, but she’d be too busy to be of much help. I sighed and went into the spare bedroom for some privacy. I got a hold of my parents without issue. They were currently out of state visiting my aunt and uncle, but it became clear after ten minutes of chatting that the most problematic thing in their lives was that they’d had arroz con pollo for three nights in a row. I tried calling Shmangie after that, but it just went straight to her voicemail. That didn’t surprise me, as she spent almost all of her free time either running errands or sleeping. I would’ve been more surprised if I had gotten ahold of her, to be honest. I put my phone away and went back out to the living room. I found the others all gathered around Mike’s laptop, and my heart skipped a beat as I heard the words ‘Cutie Mark.’ I got closer and craned my head to see what they were looking at. “Dammit, it was just there just a second ago!” Mike refreshed the page he was on, but all he got was a 404 error. “I found a Twitter post about someone getting a Cutie Mark, but now the entire page is gone!” “Looks like the entire account’s been deleted.” Phil examined the page and curled his lip. “Whoever owned it must not have wanted to broadcast what was happening to them.”  Dylan crossed his arms. “Understandable, but now they’re just as alone as us. Did you find anything else?” Mike shook his head. “That was the only relevant search result. Everything else was just old forum discussion topics or fanfiction.” I groaned. “So much for that idea.” “Don’t scratch it off just yet.” Mike yawned. “Just because there isn’t any information now doesn’t mean there isn’t going to be. If this really is happening to other people, then sooner or later one of them will appear in public. Every media source around the world will freaking explode when that happens.” Dylan mimicked Mike’s yawn. “And then what? We find a way to contact them or something?” “Depends.” Mike got to his feet and stretched. “We might be able to if they’re close by, otherwise we’ll just have to wait and see how they’re treated. How’d the phone calls go, by the way?” Phil snorted. “I spent thirty seconds telling to my mom what’s going on, and the next ten minutes convincing her that I wasn’t on acid.” “Nice!” Dylan raised his hand for a high five. “Mine thought I was on shrooms!” “I didn’t even bother trying to tell mine,” I said. “No one’s going to believe us about this unless they see us in person, anyway.” “And I’d rather we held off on that,” Phil said. He resignedly smacked Dylan’s hand, then looked over at the three of us with an amused expression. “You guys look tired. Do you want to crash now? I can keep looking online if you want.” I considered it, then realized I really was. I let out a yawn of my own and felt the subtle pull of the spare bed calling to me. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea.” “Dibs on the spare room!” Dylan called. “Oh, hell no!” Mike tried to beat him there, but Dylan got there first and shut the door in his face. “Scootaloo!” Mike banged on the door. “I mean Dylan! Argh, freaking hell, whoever you are, let me in so I can shove that new tail of yours where the sun don’t shine!” “My tail is super-ultra-extreme-awesomaaaaaazing!”  I heard the sound of springs squeaking, and could only assume Dylan was jumping on the bed. “You only wish yours was as good as mine!” “I don’t have to wish when it already is!” Mike took a step back from the door and prepared to charge. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I stepped in front of him. “Let’s not go breaking down any doors! You can just sleep in Phil’s room!” Mike blinked several times. He looked at me for a few seconds, then finally shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose I can. What about you, though?” I gently pushed him away from the door. “I’ll take the futon in the basement. That thing is crazy comfortable, anyways.” “Don’t know why I got so ornery all of a sudden,” Mike muttered. “Probably something to do with all this. If I weren’t so tired I’d be terrified over whatever's gonna happen overnight...” I thought about trying to say something comforting to him, but what could I say? I was just as scared as him. I'd been a fan of the show for years, but that didn't mean I actually wanted to be a pony! I suppose I could try acting like I was okay with all this for their sakes, but that ran the risk of them suspecting I had something to do with this again. I didn't want to re-open that can of worms. I bade Mike and Dylan good night, then went back out the living room. Phil had turned on the TV and was watching a late-night talk show while he surfed the Net. “I assume you’re going to be up for a while,” I said. Phil took a slow, deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep now if I tried. Not only is all this going to cost us our jobs, I just realized it’s going to cost me the house. I had my whole life planned out, and now I’m going to have to throw it all down the drain because I’m turning into a stupid cartoon horse? What was it all for? Why is this happening to us? Why did Discord decide that we have to be the ones who have to play host to his stupid little curse?!” I didn’t know what to say to him, either. He'd realized, same as me, that everything we'd worked for all our lives was rapidly slipping away. Phil was a quiet, reserved guy who fought against change tooth and nail, and he absolutely hated being in the spotlight. Heck, the most outgoing thing he’d ever done was drive a float in the yearly summer parade! He wasn't adjusting to this already, and it was going to get a lot worse before it go better. I didn’t want to give him any shallow or trite consolations, but I wasn’t coming up with anything else, so I just looked away and nervously shuffled my feet. Phil scoffed at my silence. He turned his attention back to the computer and said nothing more. I stood there for a little while longer in case he had anything more to say, but the dismissal was clear. Not knowing what else to do, I patted his shoulder in a half-hearted gesture and went downstairs to crash. *** The call of nature woke me in the middle of the night. I had a moment of disorientation as I remembered where I was, but I quickly remembered and got up off the futon. The darkness in the basement was almost absolute, but I fixed that by turning on a nearby lamp. The basement was very bare compared to the upstairs. The only furniture was the futon, an end table, and an old entertainment center in the corner. The cold, concrete floor was only partially covered with dusty, mismatched rugs, and the walls were unadorned. A musty smell and a heavy sense of emptiness filled the air. I freed my tail from the blankets and shambled over to the basement bathroom in a fog of drowsiness. I tried to recall if I’d had any more pertinent dreams, but I doubted watching a pair of anthropomorphic slot machines duel each other with kitchen knives had much meaning. However, the the music that was playing in the background was eerily familiar. I wracked my brain for what it was, but it was like grasping at vapors. I entered the tiny bathroom and regarded my shadowy silhouette with trepidation. A glance at a glowing digital clock told me that I’d slept for five hours, which meant that some other part of our bodies had now gone pony based on the changes thus far. Giddy anticipation eventually overwhelmed my nervousness, and I clumsily fumbled for the light for a few seconds before finding it and turning it on.   The first thing I noticed was the giant pimple in the center of my forehead. It was twice the size of a quarter, protruding a full inch away from my head. I wrinkled my nose and poked at the whitened tip, but when I felt its smooth, hardened texture, I recognized the ‘pimple’ for what it was. “So much for wearing hats,” I whispered. I delicately ran my fingers over my proto-horn. It looked like it had just broken the skin, but there wasn’t any pain, redness, or inflammation that I could see or feel. The tip was surprisingly sensitive, strangely enough, but I wasn’t sure if that was because it was still coming in or if it would be that way all the time. I fervently hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. Idly, I searched within myself to see if I’d attained some instinctual understanding of how to use magic, but all I managed to do was go cross-eyed. The effort made me giggle, but my mirth was abruptly cut short when I heard my own voice. “No way,” I said. It was higher, clearer, smoother, and carried a melodious note of power that sent a shiver down my spine. More than that, though, it was undeniably feminine. I was suddenly struck with an image of an opera singer standing alone on a stage as she filled the theater with mellifluous song. My soft, bright eyes became filled with uncertainty. I took a closer look at myself, and found that my visage had undergone other subtle changes. My face was more angular, almost like a teardrop, and my neck had become more slender. My shoulders had become narrower, and my curly mane now flowed down my back in waves. I was never the most masculine of guys, but now my appearance was androgynous at best. It was with a looming sense of dread that I remembered why I was awake in the first place, and while a large part of me didn’t want to look, the logical side of my mind pointed out how difficult it'd be to never look at my pubic region again. In a quick, fluid motion, I ripped off my boxers, inspected my loins... ...and let out a long, resigned sigh. The good news was that it was a complete swap. There wasn’t any male ‘equipment’ left over, leaving me stuck in some kind of weird gender limbo. The bad news was, well… I was a girl now. Even knowing it was going to happen didn’t soften the blow, as it was one thing to talk about something like this, but quite another to see it yourself. Everything about my life was now going to change, from the pronouns I used to the chemicals my body produced to the way society perceived me. Hell, I could even get pregnant now! Now there’s something I never thought I’d have to worry about! I sat down on the toilet and rested my elbows on my knees. Was I going to be okay with this? I mean, okay, it wasn’t like I could do anything about it if I wasn’t, but I still had to choose whether I accepted it or not. Surprisingly, the predominant feeling I felt wasn’t depression, but rather of curiosity. I’d almost exclusively been raised by women my entire life, and a part of me had always wished I could relate or participate in the things that they did and shared. Now it seemed I was going to get chance, and I wasn't sure how I felt about living on the other side of the proverbial fence. I doubted that the guys, er…  girls, rather, were going to take this as stoically, though. Dylan would get over it pretty quick. Mike would come around after she got used to it, but Phil? She was already pretty upset about possibly losing her house. How hard was this going to hit her? My ears twitched as I heard the soft sounds of the TV upstairs. As quietly as I could, I got redressed and crept upstairs to see if Phil was awake. I found her sitting on the living room couch, covered in a wool blanket and staring out the window with puffy, unfocused eyes. Her face had undergone the same changes as mine, and fresh tears ran now down her face as she hiccuped and hung her head. I cleared my throat. “Phil.” Phil jumped at the alien voice. She whirled and saw me at the top of the stairs, but her expression was still tense. Her lips parted, and she stole a glance southward before meeting my eyes. I nodded. “Yeah.” My confirmation was apparently the last straw. Phil’s posture slumped and she completely dissolved into tears. “I s-saw it h-happen,” she said in a thick, silvery soprano. “It c-changed right before m-my eyes... W-what are we g-going to… I can’t…  I c-can’t do this, M-Mage... “ I closed the distance in a flash and hugged her as hard as I could. She buried her head in my shoulder and continued to sob. I tried to say something, anything at all to make her feel better, but I’ve never exactly been the comforting type. I wanted her to understand that our future wasn’t as bleak as she thought. I wanted to tell her that we’d all be there for her in any way we could. I wished I could give her a grandiose, heartfelt speech about how we at least had each other while going through this. Unfortunately, I didn’t think of any of those things. All I did was gently rock her back and forth while she cried. I’m not sure what it was that did it. Maybe it was my newly-formed horn. Maybe it was because the transformation had reached a specific point. Perhaps it was the duress that set it off, but regardless of the catalyst, a small green spark formed on the tip of my horn and hit Phil square in the forehead. “AHH!” Phil let out a strangled yell, and my brain was abruptly speared with a lance of pain. I pulled away and clutched my head, but the feeling only worsened. I was dimly aware of Phil falling to the ground when my vision went white and I was inundated with a flood of information. A small, sleepy village nestled in the shadow of a great mountain. A lush, verdant valley that held everything I knew and loved. An immense, dark forest that held secrets, wonders, and nightmares. “The Bowling Dolls! That's it!” “It’s not chaos, you dodo!” “Why does everypony always think I'm gonna sing?“ My three best friends, all eager, happy and determined to find their places in life. A schoolhouse where we learned, played and watched out for each other. Countless adventures we had together, each one holding their own lessons and strengthening our camaraderie. “Eat your brussel sprouts, young lady!” “C’mere, kiddo, let your old stallion show you how it’s done!” “You see? We are apple pie!“ A mother, father and sister that loved me more than life itself. A home filled with nostalgia and comfort. A bedroom filled with belongings, foreign, yet familiar. “You think we can outrun him?” “Where is he?” “SCATTER!” A wolf in sheep’s clothing. An unanticipated attack. The wrath of a sibling, too little, too late. “SWEETIE! COME BACK! DAMN YOU, DISCORD! GIVE ME BACK MY SISTER!” More and more memories filled my mind, each of them from the perspective of one I never thought was real. Hopes. dreams, and desires inserted themselves in my psyche, adding to, but not overwriting the ones already there. A terrible truth revealed itself, and all I could do was scream out my rage for all to hear. “Sweetie!” Mom called from downstairs. “Sweetie!” Cheerilee said to me in class. “Sweetie!” Apple Bloom yelled from across the playground. “Sweetie!” Twilight called from the library loft. “SWEETIE!” Rarity screamed as I fell from Discord’s grasp. My head swam. My thoughts were a mess. My memories ended and began in an order that made no sense. I was Sweetie. I was Mage. I was Sweetie. I was Mage. One life ended, another began, and it was only due to Rarity’s efforts that was I able to see and claim both. I knew now what had happened. I knew who I was. Yet what to do with this information was less clear. I opened my eyes and found myself laying on the floor next to the couch. I slowly sat up with a groan. I wasn’t alone. Somepony else had just come to a short ways away. I looked over and saw a familiar face blinking at me like an owl in the light of dawn. “Sweetie?” Babs said uncertainly. I grinned. “Si, señorita.”