//------------------------------// // I,v: "Breathe Life Into a Stone" // Story: The Merry Ponies of Equestria (or, "No Two-Legged Creature") // by Sylocat //------------------------------// The ponies finally got some rest. Twilight, to her irritation, got only a couple hours before some attendant timidly woke her up to tell her that the consulting physician wanted to confer with her. She had to pretend she didn't mind being woken, since that poor messenger was so scared of offending a princess that Twilight had to reassure her that it was okay. She tried to let this bring back good memories. Before she'd first gone to Ponyville, she'd often been woken by inspiration in the middle of the night and gone into the labs to request something of the night shift. She hadn't exactly had many social appointments to keep back then, so she didn't need much of a sleep schedule. This was just like old times, huh? When she got to the lab and was greeted by a pony of somewhat higher station than the meek attendant, she now felt more comfortable glaring. Particularly since it was Dr. Shelter, who, to put it mildly, was not afraid to talk back. Twilight groused, "While I'm aware it's morning, you do realize I've been out all night?" "It's not exactly difficult to tell. Now then, three things. First off, nice work coaching them on their answers to the sensitive questions, but I will need some real answers eventually if I'm going to make real progress here." "Apologies. I'll transcribe them now." She said curtly, as she levitated up a parchment and quill and started transcribing the earlier conversation. "Thank you very much. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice their physical similarity to those creatures from that other world you outlined in that confidential report." "I noticed that too, but that's not where they're from." She explained that they had checked the energy signatures from the rift, and her theory that there were infinite worlds. "Huh. That would be very interesting, if I were a scholar of theoretical metaphysics. Speaking of which, the exobiology team felt, quote, obligated, unquote, to make me check with the reigning authority on these things before finalizing deductions." He hoofed over the reports from the medical examinations. "Deductions? What kind of..." she snapped to attention when she noticed the word 'diseases' written on the first page. "Wait, you do realize you don't need royal clearance to declare a quarantine, right?" As she began frantically sorting through the papers in front of her looking for any special forms, she thought of all the things the humans had touched since their arrival. They'd have to disinfect half the castle. He rolled his eyes. "No, I've worked here a third of a century and I haven't learned basic procedure. Of course I know it. And if the threat level was high or even moderate, we'd have done that instantly. But it's not. It's so low, they don't even think it's worth causing the uproar." Twilight did one of those breathing exercises Cadance had taught her, and then returned to the report. "So there is no threat?" "Two of the microbe types don't react to pony tissue samples at all; they're species-exclusive. Not surprising, given the differences in cell structure. One of those two bugs was the only contagious one. The others aren't going anywhere." She looked up the analysis of the humans' cell structure. "Makes sense. They are different in... wait, 'others?' How many diseases do these things have?" She flipped to the relevant summary, and gaped. Five different microbes, and two nutrient deficiencies! "How can you be so sure that none of these are a threat?" "Simple: the only reason they're sick at all is because their culture's medical knowledge is utter roadapples." He showed Twilight the transcripts of the patient interviews. "Look at this mess, they didn't even know what cells were. When we took the blood samples, they thought we were 'bleeding' them as a curative. And when we tried to explain how it really works, they looked more creeped out by that than by the diseases." Twilight winced. "Oh." She looked at a later page. "And you didn't special-order any medications. Does that mean they're responding to standard veterinary treatments?" The doctor nodded. "Three doses of cultured grain extract and they'll be fine. Even if somepony does catch one, which they won't, we could mail out a full cure to every mare, stallion and foal in Equestria, for less than the repair bills after your brother's wedding." "Those poor things." "I'll say one thing for them, they're more durable than ponies. The old fat one should have keeled over decades ago, and some of the others wouldn't have been far behind. Check out what they said when I asked them what meds they normally use." Twilight flipped to that part of the transcript. She tried to prepare for the worst. She failed. "Mercury vapor?" "And that's the 'expensive' treatment, according to them. What bucking century is it where they're from?" "Well, they don't use the same calendar, obviously..." "It's called a figure of speech." "I know..." But then Twilight realized something. There actually did seem to be a timeline. Mercury vapor had been one of those medical myths in ancient pony history. Eons ago. It could have been a coincidence... but a lot of little 'coincidences' had been accumulating. She'd just been too tired to make the connections at first. The world on the other side of that rift hadn't been the one through the mirror. It hadn't been anything like it, according to the morass of data they'd measured from the rift. This new other world hadn't seemed to share any metaphysical connection with Equestria at all. The rift had opened to a completely different plane of existence, with no connection whatsoever. And at first glance, humans seemed completely different. Yes, human physiology processed nutrients in a way similar to ponies, but many biologists theorized that extraterrestrial entities could easily have evolved to have similar metabolisms. Oxygen, carbon and phosphorous were the most useful and versatile for organic compounds and activity, so even that could have been a coincidence. And at the cellular level, human biology was unmistakably alien. The cells were bundled together more densely and the muscles had a far less uniform structure, causing the gnarled and warped shapes of human limbs. Presumably this was because they were not only larger but also had smaller appendages on the extremities, so they sacrificed flexibility for fine motor control. An elegant solution, but one with no evolutionary parallel in ponies. But they spoke the same language. The dialect was obscure, and the mannerisms were strange. Twilight had assumed that was due to their being from an alien culture, and so she hadn't really dwelt on it. But judging from Luna's reaction, their speech patterns had once been the standard vernacular in Equestria as well. Some of the wilder theories held that humans were an ancient race who ruled the lands before ponykind came along and overthrew them. Or they shared a common ancestor, and the world through the mirror had been created by a splintered timeline. Had they become unstuck in time as well as space? She would have to talk to them again. They didn't know much, but they might have some clues. She was jolted out of her speculations by Dr. Shelter. "Your highness? Are you awake?" What had they been talking about? Oh, right. "Sorry. Moving on. If we're not at risk of an outbreak, how did they catch all those bugs?" "Some are from food, others from lack of food. They don't know what vitamins are either, of course, so they balance their diet from trial and error. That, plus they're dirt poor." "Ah." This reminded her of something else. "In the meeting with Princess Celestia, they said they could live on foods that... wouldn't horrify the public. Are there any nutrients they don't realize they need?" "My thoughts precisely, but it's hard to tell without long-term observation. We can synthesize those proteins if need be. That's part of what we're injecting them with now, actually, as an emergency stop-gap." Twilight sighed in relief. "Okay, what about the other diseases?" "According to the humans... and, judging from the locations of the skin lesions, I believe them... those other two ailments are transmitted via fluid." "Fluid? What kind of..." Twilight looked at the report of where the abrasions had been on the bodies, and she paused. "Oh. You mean..." "Yes. Some ponies might be into that, but otherwise, I think we're safe. I'd be more worried about the humans catching our local bugs. You'll be taking them for checkups at Ponyville General too, right?" "Of course. And I'll have the records forwarded to you." "Thanks. At least someone is helping out around here." The binding sigil glowed red, and above it a string of arcane letters formed out of mist. Glendower lowered his staff, jotted some shorthand into his research notes, mopped his brow, and said, "Well?" His captor and ally ignored him for the moment, scanning the text and translating the symbols. After a moment, he grinned. "Finally, the solution is within reach." "Splendid." Sombra was about to continue, when he instead looked up, as though reacting to some ominous sound that only he could hear. "What is it?" "They are searching for me again." After a moment of listening, Sombra whispered another incantation, and a dark haze obscured the seal, cutting them off from the outside. "It is nothing. A mere cursory patrol, no doubt sent by the foals who usurped my throne." "Do you require my aid?" "Not yet. I escaped their detection before. However, if they are trying again, that means my deceptions may be wearing thin. I hid from the tyrant Celestia once, but I was fortunate that she only made a cursory inspection. You may need to prove your worth yet, if those Alicorn brats start a serious investigation." Glendower ignored the jab about proving his worth. "Very well. In the meantime, shall we progress on the binding spell?" "We?" Sombra's horn glowed and a scroll appeared. "Now that you have finally succeeded at revealing and isolating the sealing spell, I can counteract it on my own." "Excuse me?" "The difficult part of my escape is over. What I need now is aid for when I emerge onto the world once again." "Ah yes. I was also to conjure you an army, was I not?" "Indeed. You have two weeks." "Two weeks?" Sombra held up the scroll. "The binding spell has several traps built in. Thanks to you, I was able to devise a method of evading them, but it means doing it piecemeal. I had to break the counterspell into five sections, and will need a cooldown between each incantation, to avoid triggering the countermeasures and having to start over." "Five incantations in two weeks?" "The safest cooldown time is three days for each. I apologize for delaying you, though I must point out that, with my aid, time will no longer be an issue upon your return to your world." But now that Glendower had completed the first phase, he felt he had some leverage to demand a bit more from the deal. "Before I aid you further, I must insist upon some proof that you can do what you claim." "Hmm. Very well." The unicorn's horn glowed and an image appeared. A dungeon, with a slat of a window. But far from underground, the view from that window showed the entire skyline of a city, from a height that few had seen. The Tower of London. The most dreaded dungeon in all of the isles. And in that one room of the dark tower sat a woman. Old, elegant, almost dignified despite her imprisonment and the tatters of her dress. Glendower found himself whispering, as though his wife could hear him through the impossible window, "Margaret..." "Would you like to go to her?" "Now?" "With ease." The void around him constricted into the walls of the tower cell. Margaret Hanmer stared. At first she thought she was imagining what she saw. Her husband, standing before her in this prison? "Owen?" "Margaret?" "Have you been captured? No, that cannot be; the guardsmen would have taunted me with that. Then here by magic are you, I assume?" "You know me far too well, dear Margaret." "Art come to bring me comfort or escape?" Seeing his hesitation, she tried not to let her disappointment show. "Fear not to answer; both will give me cheer." "My hesitation was not borne of fault, 'twas mere surprise at knowing not the answer. I chanced upon a new acquaintance late, with powers unexplored by even I." Margaret, in astonishment, lapsed from verse to prose. "Unknown to you? You, who command the devil, have stronger allies yet? Has Monmouth so crossed the gods that they lend you aid beyond even the most fiery of spirits known to man?" "The circumstances are not simple ones. In truth, I know not how I may..." He paused as she clasped his hand. He felt it. The brief silence was interrupted by the sound of the cell door opening. Glendower wheeled around, raising his staff in panic. Could he use magic here? How "here" was he? Would Sombra just yank him back through the rift and leave them here wondering if they had seen a ghost? He prepared to cast an incantation, just in case he could. But then he noticed that his staff was glowing already... no, in fact his arm was glowing. His whole body was glowing. Was he about to vanish? He turned to get one last look at Margaret before the glow faded. It took him a moment to realize that he was still in the tower cell. Had something gone wrong? He glanced in panic at the guards, who now looked bewildered. "What was that?" said one. "Where did he go?" said the other. "Where did it go?" the first corrected him. Glendower glanced down at himself. He looked solid, but something seemed off. It seemed to him that he was both there and not, as though he was looking at himself through one eye. Apparently the guards could not see him at all. They could not touch him either, for they stormed right through him to grab Margaret, and one of them roared, "Was that your demonic husband, accursed witch?" Before Glendower could throw them off his wife, the guards stopped, and little sparks danced around their eyes. They dropped her, looking baffled once again. Margaret's eyes went from them to her husband, but the guards still did not seem to notice. After a moment they retreated to a corner, and one whispered, "What was our purpose coming here again?" "I thought we heard a... I remember not." Lapsing back into their dull routines, they left. Glendower and Margaret exchanged a glance. She could still see him, though she blinked as though she had the same double-vision problem. The same thought occurred to them both: how is he doing this? And then they were astounded still further, as the tower vanished around both of them, leaving them in the dark void. Margaret looked around. "Where have we gone? Is this the spirit... realm..." she trailed off as she stared over her husband's shoulder. Glendower looked behind him and saw Sombra there, smirking. Glendower turned back to Margaret, attempting to think up an explanation... but instead of recoiling in horror, she was attempting unsuccessfully to stifle laughter. "Is this the visage of your mighty demon?" Wincing, Glendower turned to gauge Sombra's reaction. Fortunately the dark unicorn did not look angry, just slightly sour. And even as Margaret stepped towards him and patted him on the head, he only glared rather than attacking, until Glendower gently pulled her away. She returned her attention to her husband. "I knew you would come for me, but I did not know it would be by such magic. Are you going back to rescue Catrin and the others as well?" He wasn't sure. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd had no idea Sombra would let him retrieve her. It seemed unlike him... wait, could it be... no, this was her. No illusion could be so real. Before he could speak, Sombra answered for him. "Your children and grandchildren will be liberated once your husband completes his work here. Be thankful I allow you here to motivate him." Her smile faltered. "Allow?" Sombra walked away, with his smirk returned. Margaret took her husband's arm. "My lord, are you a prisoner?" "I am an ally. In exchange for aid, he promises to turn our tides of war." She looked around at the dark void that surrounded them. "What work hath brought you here? What's left to do?" "That story to unfold would take a week, and I shall be here merely twice that time. Perhaps we should have sent you to our home." "If you require supplies," came Sombra's voice from all directions at once, "list them, and I can send a shadow courier to the castle from where I brought you. I assumed you would need your books at some point." Both of them tried not to look spooked by the interruption. Glendower replied evenly, "I will indeed, in future. As for now, I would request my wife should not be asked to dine on frozen moss for fifteen days." "Very well. List your needs." Glendower began making a list of books and spell ingredients. He couldn't think of all he would need at the moment, so he added, 'most anything else in the relevant categories.' Hopefully Sombra's shadow forms were at least able to tell that much. For food, he listed only fruits and vegetables that could be eaten fresh and raw. They couldn't exactly requisition any of their servants to be brought here, and nobility never had to learn how to cook for themselves. In fact, neither of them would have even been quite sure what foods were edible raw if not for Glendower's decades of research into the potency of various plants as spell ingredients. He added a few minor supplies such as blankets, and pronounced the list done. Sombra came out of the shadows again, grabbed the list, and dissipated as quickly as he had arrived. They believed they were alone. Margaret cautiously stepped forward to explore the boundaries of their prison. The darkness appeared to go on forever, and he was about to tell her not to bother, when to both of their surprises she touched the frozen wall of the cavern after walking only a few yards. The infinite darkness was an illusion? Intriguing. Glendower wondered what else was an illusion. After all, he realized grimly, it would have been far easier for Sombra to fabricate that entire adventure and his wife's presence than to actually accomplish it. He felt it down to his core that it was really her... but he had to make sure. Whispering an incantation, he opened a doorway to the Tower on his own. He knew Sombra would detect the portal and return to snap it shut, which of course he did; but in that brief moment when it was open, Glendower saw that the cell no longer held its prisoner. The guards were looking around frantically to see where their vanished captive had gone, and sputtering out moronic speculations as to how anyone could escape from there. It was real. He had saved her. It was no illusion. Sombra guessed Glendower's motives, and stormed out of the shadows to address him. "Do you believe I am not a stallion of my word?" "You will pardon me if I did not yet trust by default that you would fulfill such a promise, rather than the far easier task of flattering my hopes." "Flattering your hopes? I am not a flatterer of any sort, particularly not one of hopes." Somewhere along the barrage of examinations and interrogations that Falstaff and his companions had undergone, the ponies running the test had broken into song. This was yet another cultural difference. In Falstaff's world, they didn't have musical numbers, they had soliloquies. And after the ponies' song had been concluded, and he was momentarily left alone, Falstaff broke into one of his own. He still wasn't quite up on pony vernacular, but he thought the ponies' song had been about the thrills of learning about a new species and nervousness as to what their interrogations might reveal about the world. Falstaff's soliloquy, though, was about the opposite: "I have learned such a torrent of information about both of our worlds that if I paused to contemplate it all, I would have no resources of the brain left for motion and speech. I would be as a newborn babe, shuffling across a plane without reference point. All these new facts wash over me like a river, with only stray rivulets seeping down into the folds in my brain like water into the narrow cracks of a stone riverbed. I hold my hand to my face now, as if to test the thickness of this fog of wonder, and yet I see no cells, merely the too-familiar wrinkles and mottling of the skin. Do I know their miniature telescopes are more reliable? Their medicines are soothing to a number of my long-standing pains, so I should conclude so. But while their advising on disease avoidance has lodged itself in my forebrain, the reasoning behind them is more intangible. I cannot see cells, nor does my knowledge of them make a wound grieve less. Therefore, for all it affects me, this new guidance may as well be on avoiding the invisible vitalistic judgments of disease, rather than the invisible miniature creatures of their experiments." Falstaff was a bit nervous, as the researchers had begun to return during the tail end of the speech, and he was wondering if they had heard. Fortunately they didn't seem to react. Apparently, while musical numbers here were audible to non-participants, soliloquies could still only be heard by the speaker. Doll Tearsheet was dragged around for hours, poked with sticks, stuck with needles tied to tubes filled with who knew what, half-blinded by strange lights an inch from her eyes, and made to swallow tablets of many different sizes and colors. She'd had worse days. It came with the job. Times back home were even harder than usual, and not just for the ladies of ill repute. Customers were scarcer. Standards, what little they had, slid a little. Indeed, after what she had been through over the past few years, this place seemed scarcely more alien to her than human nature did. She wasn't sure her captors had been placated by her rehearsed answers about diet and customs. She was well used to making up flattering words and delivering them with a cheery smile, but she usually delivered them to customers who already wanted to believe her kind words, rather than captors who were suspicious of her. Still, from what she could discern, they seemed reasonably satisfied. The last thing she remembered, before finally passing out from exhaustion, was being gently ushered into a holding cell and asked to wait there until the test results could be analyzed. Waking, she blinked to un-blear her eyes and take stock of her location. She was still where they had left her, only now she had company. Nell Quickly, looking fairly ragged herself, was sitting on the bench. There were no ponies currently visible through the plate glass, but the fact that it was plate glass and the walls were solid white indicated that she and Quickly were still in this bizarre world. "'Tis once again proved not to be a dream?" "And we are running out of awakenings to tell us otherwise." Doll pulled herself to her feet long enough to sit beside her companion. "Where are the others?" "I believe we have been sorted by sex. They would be in another holding cell I know not where. Think'st thou we shall see them again? Or are we left here as prisoners after all?" "If nothing else, I think our regimen of questions thus far hath been far too brief and cursory to warrant the detail of instruction with which the monarch advised us to alternately disclose and conceal our habits." "There is that. I also remember two of the winged ones talking of removing us into their own custody, but I fear that was merely to humour us." "A flattering promise would not have been adorned with so many caveats or deprecating details. 'Twas not so appealing as to be false. I am not such a fool as to presume upon our future freedom, but I believe the walls of our cage may yet at least be different colors than white or gray." "Perhaps we shall be made to feed on grass. 'Tis our turn to be fenced in farm and field." "I might start plying my old trade once again." Quickly hoped she wasn't understanding Doll correctly. "With... horses?" "I would find it scarcely more unappealing than some of my two-legged visitors." The hostess winced and tried to divert the course of the conversation. "Well, during our time here, have you noticed a certain inversion of the sexes from the stations in our world?" Doll considered that. "That is true. We have encountered four females with titles in governance, yet only one male, with one other mentioned in passing." "The supply and the demand may be reversed." "If we are freed into some pasture or other, what recourse might then we have?" "I should like to consult again with that orange mare in the hat." Then, to her surprise, she got her chance. The guards came and retrieved them, leading the six humans back to where their initial captors were waiting, sans their purple ringleader. After the expected exchange of awkward looks and stares and glares, finally the one called Fluttershy stepped forward and said, "Er... it's been decided that you're going to come stay in Ponyville with us for the time being." She paused and looked at Applejack, waiting for a nod before continuing. "There's a... vacant house not too far from where I live. It's... it's pretty nice, and you'll be provided for..." The insane one interrupted her, "And we'll throw you an extra-super-duper-special welcome-to-Equestria party first thing we do!" "We will be honored to be your guests," said Quickly. She was about to ask if their new domicile would be large enough to incorporate a business, when they were momentarily interrupted by the return of Twilight, who consulted briefly with her five friends before approaching the humans once again and confirming their imminent departure for Ponyville. As they filed out of the room, Quickly once again sidled up to Applejack and said quietly, "Before our audience with the monarch was interrupted, I was about to inquire as to the distribution methods of your cider?" The train ride back to Ponyville was uneventful, since most of it was spent in awkward silence. Only Twilight's sifting through papers and jotting notes, the whispered negotiations between Applejack and Quickly with Applejack occasionally asking Fluttershy to translate some of the language, the snores of Falstaff, and the disgruntled growls of Pistol whenever anyone so much as looked his way, broke the quiet. As they disembarked, the thirteen travelers and their guards were greeted by a few other ponies, most of whom eyed the humans suspiciously. Three fillies, however, did not seem skittish; in fact they immediately leapt forward and started excitedly speeding through a semicoherent joint announcement that the humans' new lodging was just about ready. "There's been a little addition to the plans," Applejack said. "Some of the humans'll be stayin' in that vacant corner store in town." An older pony with a grey mane stepped forward and expressed displeasure. "Excuse me. When, during the nine hours since I was sent that building permit to sign off on for the edge of town, was it decided that we would have humans residing right in the middle of Ponyville?" As Applejack stood her ground against whoever this was, Twilight paused to fill out and manage more paperwork, though she first whispered to the yellow filly, "Sorry it didn't work out, and sorry I wasn't here to help with the construction." "Well, you coulda helped with the teleportin' of all them pipes into the place to install the plumbin'. You might wanna touch it up some before they move in." The other four ponies led the humans away from the bureaucracy. Or rather, into more of it, because once they were shown the rundown corner store that they now planned on renovating, they were informed of a legal issue they would have to deal with more directly. It started when Rarity asked how many of them wanted to live in the store, and how many wanted to live instead in the newly constructed domicile on the edge of town. Quickly replied, "Perhaps 'tis best we remain gathered together?" "I understand that wish, believe me. Unfortunately, not all of you can legally reside here. The law says that if you are operating an establishment that serves alcohol, there cannot be any foals legally residing on the premises." Since his age had never been an issue before, it took the humans a moment to realize she was talking about Robin. "He hath been in Sir John's service and a consistent guest for nigh two winters," said Doll. "Well, I don't know much about the age of majority in your world versus ours, but until he reaches legal age here, he cannot have his legal permanent residence be at the same address as a bar. Now don't fret, he can come visit all he likes with proper adult supervision, but he has to actually sleep somewhere else." "So, we must choose who shall reside here and who shall cross to and from the other locale?" Bardolph said. "I have oft wished to dwell in your watering hole forever," Falstaff said to Mistress Quickly. "To passeth up this choice I like not." "Should I be forced to parade down public roads from there to here once every night..." Pistol began. Fluttershy spoke up. Sort of. "Oh. Um, you know... if... if the rest of you all want to stay together... I could still take him in myself... I take care of little creatures, you know, it's what I do..." "...and this is Angel Bunny. Angel, this is Robin, he's... now Angel, be nice to our new friend! Sorry, Robin, he doesn't mean that, really. Oh, and this is Cawdor. Cawdor just arrived here yesterday, when she flew into my window and sprained her wing. You know, she can talk too." A raven? Robin had heard of talking parrots, but talking ravens were something out of fairy tales. Of course, talking ponies were new to him as well, but even Fluttershy seemed to think it unique, and the bird didn't look all that different from its equivalent on Earth. One change from Earth physiology was that the bird's beak was flexible enough to register a smile. And it was certainly registering a contented one right now as its bearer basked on a little feather bed. Without opening her eyes, she said, "Can I go with you next time, Fluttershy? I want to see some more of this new land, and meet the princesses you talked about." "I don't see why not. Cawdor, this is Robin, he's new here just like you are." The bird languidly sat up, stretched, yawned, and extended her wing as if to greet another bird. Then she opened her eyes and saw what Robin was, and froze. "There's... am I dreaming? There's a human here." "Oh, yes. It turns out they're real after all, and they came here through a portal like the mirror." Cawdor leapt to her feet. "'They?' How many... came through?" Fluttershy could sense that the bird was troubled. "Only six. And don't worry, they're harmless. None of those awful rumors are true." Robin reached out to pet the bird, and the bird recoiled and covered itself protectively with a wing. Robin was disappointed, but didn't press the issue. "Talking ravens are found in our storybooks as well." Cawdor preened at her wing and peeled the bandage off it. "You know, my wing is feeling better. I think I might try a practice flight." Fluttershy beamed. "Aw, that's wonderful! And you know, even if you are feeling better, you can come back here anytime, as often as you want." "I promise to take you up on that," the bird replied as she flew out the open window. After a moment of silence, Robin grew sarcastic. "The raven's wing certainly healed apace." "Oh, she was never badly hurt at all." Robin was surprised. "You knew?" Fluttershy never dropped her serene smile. "I've taken care of enough hurt animals to recognize when one of them is being melodramatic. I'm sorry she's frightened of humans, but I'm also relieved that now I don't have to break it to her that she wasn't fooling me." The pony and the human exchanged a chuckle, and began to talk of other things. They attributed Cawdor's behavior to simple temperament. They never imagined that the bird was still listening to them from just outside the window, nor that when she had heard enough and flew away, she would be whispering to herself, "This is bad. This is very, very bad." "There. Your grimoires, all here." "Indeed. Even the ones to summon benign spirits." "You did specify 'everything in the relevant categories,' and my shadows are not as educated as I. You may simply ignore the peaceful ones." "Not necessarily. Half of warfare is psychological." Glendower was about to continue when there was a little flash of light above them, and a strange voice announced, "I have answered your summons." "Who are you?" Sombra growled. "You called for a familiar." Another flash of light, and a raven appeared, flitting down to alight on a table, and looking them over. "Hmm. From your reactions, I take it my summoning was accidental?" The two sorcerers exchanged a puzzled glance. Glendower said, "I summoned no creature yet." For a brief moment, Glendower thought he saw the bird glaring at him. Sombra attempted to grab the bird with magic to interrogate it, but found that it possessed some sort of shield through which the glow of his telekinetic spell could not penetrate. "What are you?" "Relax, I bring you knowledge." "Do you now." "I do now. Do you know about the other humans?" "What other humans?" The crow was irritated. "You got here through a rift, right? Well you're not the only one who came through. There's six that I know of, and maybe more." Glendower was not wholly convinced, but he now cast a suspicious glance at Sombra. "Did you pull anyone else here?" "I did not. Where did the second rift open, bird?" "Right over the Everfree Forest. You're lucky that was the only other one, and you're also lucky it wasn't open long enough to let millions of them wander through!" "How do you know all this?" "I'm a summoned creature of the aether, of course I know these things. Just like I can guess what kind of spell it was that went wrong and tore the thing open in the first place. But if you don't believe me, then answer this: How exactly do you think I got here?” That was a very good point. How had the bird found them here, which even these apparently-godlike 'Alicorn' things couldn't do, and how had it gotten past their barriers? Still, Glendower remained a bit skeptical. "Explain just when and how I summoned you?" "I apologize for my early arrival," said the raven brusquely, "but timelines can get a bit jumbled in situations like these." Glendower glanced incredulously at Sombra, and was surprised to see that the unicorn looked almost convinced. "Timelines? This creature was sent to us through time?" "Those gods you pray to can travel through time," Sombra reminded him. "They do not travel. The gods are never bound by temporality; they have no need of travel. They can reach all times at once, they do not aim. This would imply spells that can reach through time." "Which there are. I would know, as I invented them myself. Unfortunately, time travel is... glitchy. Unreliable, and fiddly even when it works. Of little practical use, even for the greatest sorcerers in existence. Often, time loops will stabilize themselves and lock in events without warning; and even when they do not, there are still too many uncontrollable variables. But it does have its applications, as well as its unexpected occurrences." The newcomer was rather focused on one topic. "Anyway, like I said, I'm here to bring you advice and information. And my first advice is to get rid of the humans." Sombra remained smug. "Why? I am told that most humans possess no magical abilities whatsoever." "They don't have magic, but they're ruthless, evil, vicious, cunning creatures and they can wreck any plan you'd care to make, despite being morons," the bird practically spat. Glendower did not react to the implied insult, as he was still pondering what Sombra had said. Time travel must be difficult indeed, he thought to himself, if its very pioneer, who can reach across planes of existence, deems it unworkable. I can understand not wishing to rely on time travel, but for him to not even consider it a possibility? I could not hope to succeed where Sombra has failed so drastically. He was both relieved and disappointed. Still, I would like to conduct a few small experiments, at some point. He returned to the matter at hand. "We shall adjust our plans accordingly. In the meantime, thou shouldst put thyself at ease." "Whatever." The bird flew over to where Margaret was sitting and grudgingly introduced itself. Margaret was delighted. Sombra was unfazed. "This changes nothing, no matter what some racist crow may think." "Agreed. And still, I am not yet convinced I summoned that bird here... nor that I will." "It would not surprise me either way. We shall find out soon enough. Meanwhile, it is time you do summon something." "Where shall I begin?" "You yourself said half of warfare is psychological, and the bird's vehemence makes me think as well. I know enough about the Elements of Harmony to know that if we can drive the Element Bearers apart, we can neutralize their power. The friendship between the six is powerful, but I know from experience that no emotional bond is invulnerable. Before we begin summoning warriors, you should summon some tricksters that can sow enmity among the enemy ranks, or advise us on how to do so." "Very well, I shall conjure a demon that will make six ponies feel for each other as the raven feels for me." He created a shield of darkness around them so Margaret would not have to see them work, and opened one of his grimoires. "A mischief-maker... hmm. Well, this is a decent place to start." He began the long and complex preparations for the ritual, with Sombra watching and taking notes, as well as helping out when he could to speed things along. Eventually the magic circle was finally drawn. Sombra aided in its activation, and marveled as Glendower stepped out into the cosmos and called upon the Vedas and Elohim of the darkest corners of the cosmos to provide him with their finest scoundrel. And perhaps the bird's story was true after all, for as Glendower felt a response, an answer from Mawat and Ereshkigal, he saw in his mind's eye that the summons of their gift reached across time as well as space. He was surprised. Most demons were eternal; they could have heeded his call from any point in time. Few spirits were bound by temporality; if the powers had gone to the trouble of picking one of them, it must have been very well-qualified indeed. The sentence has been carried out. But what greets him is not hell. It cannot be hell. Surely there is more to hell than this. This is mere vague darkness. He turns and sees two figures. He sees a steed. It looks demonic enough, but the man beside it looks quite human. What sorcery is this? The mists cleared. They had expected to summon an imp or horned beast, but the thing that now stood in the magic circle looked quite human, and as startled as its conjurors. Glendower was fatigued, but kept his staff raised just in case. "What are you?" "I... I ask in turn." "I brought you to this chamber. I called for a trickster, a maker of mischief." The summoned creature pondered this a moment, then laughed. "My judgment and sentence precede me into the great beyond? What punishment awaits me here?" "You are not here to suffer penance. You are here to provide aid." "Provide aid! At whose assignment?" Glendower assumed the imp was playing games with him. "I called upon the powers that be, to send to me an imp, one that could set my enemies against one another. Out of all their legions of hell and beyond, they sent you. I command you to reveal to me your powers and guise!" The beast seemed to have trouble grasping this. Sombra could tell that the two humanoids were talking past each other. "You said something about a judgment and sentence?" "Yes. What you summoned me here for, they condemned me there for. I seem to have arrived here straight from my execution. I took this for hell, and am still not convinced I was mistaken." Stunned, Glendower grew angry. "Thou dost not merely wear the outward appearance of a man, thou art a man! Perhaps the raven's hate is justified, if the powers hear our call for a demon and answer with a human!" "Well, this is a rare afterlife! To be carried here from death, only to be cursed out because the necromancer holds my character in higher esteem than doth the judge that sentenced me to the grave you pull me from! Tell me, old man, what powers did you call on that guided me here? Perhaps the devil doth not take premium orders from a senile egomaniac and his pet hell-horse!" "Moloch has taken orders from me far more direct than that! The realm of Hades itself does not cozen me, let alone go to the excess trouble of using a temporal creature to do so." It began to sink in that this might not have been a mistake. "And in thy deprecations, thou hast spoke such qualifications of thyself that thou wast beyond question sent here for the purpose." "Am I to apologize for a poor showing?" "Nay, I should be impressed. A human sent to do a demon's work! What human can surpass demons in mischief? What human can sow such chaos among his own kind as to outpace the legions of darkness? Who are you?" The spirit also realized that it was no mistake. Both flattered and revolted, he straightened his back, smiled contemptuously, and introduced himself. "My name is Iago." "Now, I need your help, girls. This isn't just a welcome-to-Ponyville party or even a welcome-to-Equestria party, this is a get-to-know-you party for a whole new species, and you know it's gotta go well so the townsponies won't feel uncomfy having them in the middle of Ponyville! So this is gonna have to be my magnum opus, the greatest party I've ever thrown! And I need all of you to pitch in! Can I count on you all in my hour of need? Great! Now, tasks! Rainbow Dash, help Applejack make extra cider, I don't want the Boar's Hoof Tavern to run out on their opening night even if the whole town orders extra rounds! Fluttershy, you're on translation duty! Rarity, you're on decoration duty! Twilight, you'll help me compile the guest list and deliver some of the invites, 'cuz you're a princess now so some ponies are more likely to come just 'cuz you're there! Is that everypony? Great!" Pinkie Pie hadn't actually given them time to answer any of her apparently-rhetorical questions, but they were all up for it. "Now, I want this to be totally super-educational as well as fun, so I gotta talk to them again and ask them what kind of activities they have at human parties! Ooh, I can't wait to find out what kind of music they have and what kind of party games they play in human taverns..."