My name is Lyra Heartstrings.
I stood on the side of the road in the Ponyville marketplace, gently plucking the strings of my lyre, trying to calm a flaring bad mood. Ponies around town had told me there were some new humans hanging out around here, but I had no intention of meeting them. ... Not after the last one...
A few ponies stopped to enjoy my music as I played. I smile and nodded politely at them. That always made me feel better, to see ponies appreciating my work. Rarity, always one to support fine art, or a pitiful imitation of fine art in my case, dropped a few bits in the cup at my feet.
Humans. I’d grown up hearing stories about them. My parents would tell me about them all the time. Strange creatures of myth and legend, they’d journey journey from far away lands whenever ponies were in danger and come to rescue them, and do whatever good they could while they were in Equestria. In our times of darkest need, they were there to be our champions, our heroes. I remember stories about humans slaying evil monsters and saving kingdoms; falling in love and overcoming adversity until they could live happily ever after; doing the right thing when it was the hardest thing in the world.
Noble creatures, brave and virtuous and strong, full of love. People who went to great lengths to help perfect strangers, just because it was Good and Right and True.
They say you should never meet your heroes.
James was none of the things humans were supposed to be.
I spotted them, across the market, coming straight towards me. Two of them. A big, dark red stallion was leading them right to me. That Apple mare’s brother, what was his name? Big Macintosh, that was it. He must have been one of the only ponies in town who I hadn’t already told that I didn’t want to see them. I was pretty sure ponies were starting to wonder if I’d been replaced by a changeling.
I looked left and right for someplace I could run off to, maybe hide until they gave up looking, but ducking behind a cart would have been too conspicuous. There was a back alleyway down the street where I could probably duck in and lose them between the buildings and the houses, but it would have been too far to make it before they got to me.
Besides, running off in the middle of a song would have been just... well, wrong. A musician just doesn’t do that, even when the ship is sinking.
I sighed and resigned myself to the conversation that would surely ensue.
The humans joined the crowd of onlookers, some of whom gave them questioning glances before going back to watching me play.
“This is her?” the tall human asked Big Mac. He must have thought he was being quite, but he was failing miserably at it.
“Eyup.” Big Mac didn’t bother.
“Should we...” The short one took another step towards me, but the tall one put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
“Let her finish. It can’t go for too much longer. Besides, I like this song.”
“How can you know this one?”
“I don’t, but it sounds good, so shut up so I can hear it.”
Big Mac nodded his farewell to the two humans and excused himself to be about whatever business had brought him into town in the first place.
I thought of transitioning into the Ballad of Firebrand and Olivine, then maybe singing the eight extra verses I’d written on one long, boring afternoon that “subtly implied” that Princess Luna was Olivine, hoping they’d get bored and go away, but decided against it. It’d be better to just tell them I didn’t want to talk to them and have it over with than to put it off. More polite, anyway. There was no need to be rude.
Besides, at least one of them had an appreciation for music, and that counts for something in my book.
I got to the end of the song and let the last few notes fade slowly into the air, keeping the strings vibrating a little longer. The crowd clopped their hooves on the ground in polite appreciation, and the humans made a similar noise by beating their hands together. Some threw a few bits into my collection cup.
The crowd slowly dispersed, and the two humans approached me.
The tall one stuck out his hand in greeting. I recognised the gesture--a handshake. It was supposed to be a traditional greeting, although you’d be surprised how many different kinds there are for humans from different cultures.
Ponies can’t perform any of them. Not without fingers.
“Miss Heartstrings, my name’s Jim, and this is my travelling companion, Dreamy Cutebottom.” The second human shot the first a dangerous look.
I put a forehoof in Jim’s outstretched hand, and he shook it. That would have to do.
Dreamy shook my hoof as well. “He’s lying, by the way. My name’s Dave, ma’am.”
“We’re investigating the death of our mutual friend--”
“Acquaintance,” Dave corrected.
“Our mutual acquaintance, James Winterton. We’ve been informed that you knew the deceased.”
“We need to know everything you know about the circumstances of his death, and the time he spent here in Ponyville.”
I snorted dismissively and sat down on my plot. These humans thought they could just walk up to me, and I’d tell them everything about... About the human who broke my heart like a cheap, knockoff fire ruby.
“I don’t want to talk about James,” I said, hoping they’d notice the bitterness in my voice and take the hint that it was time to leave, waving my lyre in the air at them for extra effect.
“Join the club, lady,” said Jim. “He may not have been a friend. But he was a world walker. That makes him one of ours, and we need to know what happened to him. We look out for each other.”
This human...
Was he really...
Was that...
Loyalty?
I looked at the him, taking in all the features of his face, those small brown eyes, the rounded pyramid nose, the hair hardly a few inches long. I closed my eyes tightly, then opened them slowly. He was still the same thing. Still the same serious gaze. Still a human, acting out of loyalty. Not because he actually liked James, but because James was one of his own.
“Besides,” said Dave, “if what happened was murder, as my friend believes, then that means that the rest of the beings in this town will be in danger until the killer is caught. And so we have to determine if that was the case, and if so, track down whoever’s responsible.”
And there, again, that nobility that I’d been expecting in the first human I’d met.
Maybe... Maybe there were humans like the ones in my stories. Maybe humans were more like ponies than I’d thought, with heroes and villains and normal, day-to-day people who weren’t that impressive, but who tried their best to be good.
Maybe...
A tear fell from my eye, and a second later it was followed by a few more. And then the floodgates opened, and I couldn’t stop them, as hard as I tried.
The humans didn’t say anything. They sat down on the dirt in front of me and watched. They didn’t turn away, didn’t leave, and didn’t speak. They waited for me to start the conversation back up.
They didn’t know me. But they were there for me. They didn’t leave while I was hurting.
Treating a stranger like a friend. And of course, that didn’t help me calm down any.
Eventually, the tears dried up. I wiped my eyes on a foreleg.
“I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I don’t... I...” I couldn’t go on.
“Did James hurt you?” Jim asked. “Is that why you’re crying?”
I let out a short, sharp laugh.
“No,” I said. “He... He just disappointed me. A lot. I always... It doesn’t matter. I’m sure there were plenty of mares who got worse from him than I did. What do you need to know?”
“Start with everything,” said Dave with a friendly smile, “and we’ll try to make our questions vaguer and more frustrating as we go along.”
It was a few days ago. I’d just entered Bon Bon’s shop, and it took me a while to realize what was different about it. It looked the same as it usually did, wood floors, wood walls plain and undecorated, shelves and shelves of candy stacked up behind a counter on the far side from the front door.
I’m sorry, Bon Bon?
My sister. She owns a candy store--not too far from here, actually. I was going over there to visit her. I do that a lot. We’re close, even if she is about as deep as a puddle.
Case in point, she was skimming through the pages of a fashion magazine when I got there. Not for inspiration or ideas, she’s not much of an artist. Not even looking for things to buy. Not even trying to keep up on the trends. Just looking at the pictures, because.
As I was saying, it took me a while to notice what exactly was different about the shop.
Then I noticed the shining, white circle floating in the air in the middle of the room. There was a clearly magical gateway in the middle of her shop, and my sister was skimming a fashion magazine.
“Bonnie, has Vinyl been helping you make enchanted candies behind my back again?” I used to help her with those, until the noodle incident convinced me the whole thing was a bad idea.
Bon Bon sighed.
“Why is it always my fault when weird stuff happens around here?”
“Because it’s always you who causes it. That makes it your fault.” For most ponies I wouldn’t have felt the need to explain, but I’m honestly not sure my sister grasps that concept.
“Well, it wasn’t me this time.”
A leg stepped out of the circle. It was soon followed by a human being.
You have no idea excited I was. How ecstatic, how... I can’t begin to describe it. Humans have been a kind of fascination of mine, ever since I was a filly. Creatures of legend, you know.
Anyway.
The human looked at me, then at a little, gray box in his hands.
“I said cyberpunk, you stupid inanimate object, not cowpunk! Why do you never listen to me?” He turned to go, but the portal he’d come through vanished before he could get through it. “How long are you going to keep me here?” he asked the box. “A bucking week? Are you kidding me? I have to settle for furries for a bucking week?” At least, I’m pretty sure he said ‘bucking.’ It might have been another word, but not one I recognized. He looked at Bon Bon. “You know anywhere I can charge this thing?”
Bon Bon tilted her head. Her face screwed up in the same expression she got when she experimented with new recipes, mixed strawberry extract with vanilla and somehow got candies that tasted like root beer. Or something like that, I really don’t follow much of what she says about candy making.
“I need a shot of juice. For this thing.” He waved the box at her. It didn’t look like the kind of thing that would drink juice, but technology isn’t my thing anymore than candy making is.
“Don’t have any,” Bon Bon said. “There’s a place across the street that might, though. Sugarcube Corner. Can’t say for sure that they will or won’t, ‘cause they’re just a pastry shop, but they usually do.”
The human stood still, staring. Then he blinked. Then he said, “Sugarcube Corner. I’ve come to a world with shops that have names like Sugarcube Corner. By all the various religious deities I’ve met and several I’ve only ever heard of, this is going to be a bad week.”
He turned around to leave through the front door, but found himself unable to leave when he fell straight down onto his plot. I might also have been on top of him, giving him the hug of his life, but I’m sure that has nothing to do with the reason he fell. At all.
“Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh! You’re a human! A real live human! I never thought I’d see one face to face! A real human!”
“Right,” the man said to himself. I knew he was a man, then, because I felt his chest beneath mine, and it was flat. Most ponies don’t know that a human’s mammary glands are located on it’s chest. Ponies have ours right... Oh. I understand. I’ll get on with the story. “No humans in this world. Guess I am gonna’ have to settle for furries. Ah well, I’ve done worse.”
If I’d realized what he was talking about then and there, I might just have been the killer you two are looking for.
James behavior upset you?
He... Didn’t live up to what I thought a human would be like. He was...
When I was taking him to Sugarcube Corner, he... he put his hand on my rump and squeezed it. Hard.
I didn’t mean to hurt him, but bucking up and kicking him was my first response.
Good for you.
He fell to the ground, again, and he laughed.
“Alright, alright,” he said, picking himself up. “I can take a hint. The prude wants her personal space. Got it.”
But he wore this smug grin. Like he’d... won, somehow. He’d touched me, and there was nothing I could do about it, ‘cause he’d already done it. And that made him happy, to know that I felt violated and couldn’t do anything about it.
Maybe I’m just reading too much into that grin.
It was worse when we got finally got there.
Wait. We need to know everything. Did anything happen before you left your sister’s shop?
Um... Yes, actually
When he first started to go, Bon Bon blocked his way.
“Oh, no,” she said. “You don’t open up a vortex of magical energy in the middle of my shop, then step in and leave without buying anything.”
He blinked.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Bon Bon shot him a glare that said all it needed to.
He didn’t have anything we’d consider money, so he took some chocolates and peppermints and gave her his shirt in exchange.
And he never bothered to replace it the entire time he was here.
Why does that not surprise me?
Because you’ve met James?
Alright. Thank you for the information. Did anything else happen between leaving the candy shop and arriving at the pastry store? Did he say anything to you, did you say anything to him, did you meet anyone, did anyone look at you funny? Anything you can remember might be important.
No, there was nothing... I asked him a lot of questions about what being human was like. I didn’t understand many of his answers, but that might be because I wasn’t expecting so much innuendo.
Do you remember any of your questions or his answers?
A few.
I asked him how you humans balance on two legs all the time. He said “Can’t you tell, honey? I’ve got three legs.”
It took me forever to get the joke. And when I did, it wasn’t even funny.
I asked him what that small finger on the end was for. He said “It’s all for you, baby, just like the rest of them. And that leg I was talking about.”
I think we get the idea. What about the pastry shop? Sugarcube corner, wasn’t it?
That's it. Only Pinkie Pie was there when we got there. She’d been at the counter, but when we got there...
Have you met Pinkie Pie yet? Well, I’m sure you will before you leave. It’s kind of hard not to. She’s the friendliest pony you’ll ever meet. Always bouncing around with a smile on, talking your ear off. She’s always excited to meet new... Uh... People. I guess that word works.
When we got to the shop, she ran right over to us and started bouncing around us.
“Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh! It’s a real live human! Lyra, you were right, they do exist! This is the best day ever! Except for a lot of the other one’s I’ve had, but really, who can top that?”
“Um... Right. I’m looking for some juice to power this thing.” He showed her the box.
“Your box drinks juice? That’s so the opposite of how things normally work here in Ponyville, but okay.”
She was gone in an instant, in that special way that only Pinkie Pie can do. She doesn’t walk off, you see. She may take a step or two if she feels like it, but somehow Pinkie can be in one place one minute and somewhere else the next. A moment later she came back with a box of Apple Juice.
“That’ll be one bit.”
James scowled.
“No, look, I need power. You know, juice for the machine?” Which are of course two entirely different things, so why he was getting all mad at her for not understanding was beyond me.
“Oooohhh,” Pinkie said, “that’s different then. Why didn’t you say so? I have friends for whatever kind of power you need. If you want political power, I can take yo to my friend Twilight and she can take you to see Princess Celestia. If you want magic, I can take you to Twilight again, and she can teach you. But they say that knowledge is power, so maybe you want to go to the library, which is run by my friend Twilight. Pretty much whatever kind of power you need, you should go see my friend Twilight.” There was a brief pause. James opened his mouth to say something.
“Ooh!” Pinkie interrupted. “Unless you want to work out and get power by becoming stronger, in which case you should go see Snowflake. But if you want electric power, you need to speak to Time Turner. He knows about stuff like that. Or maybe...”
“Yes!” James cut her off. “That last one. Where can I find the electricity guy?”
“He’s usually at home with Dinky and Amethyst at this time of day. Unless he’s in another galaxy or century or something. You know how it is.”
“Right. And his home is...?”
“Oh, it’s not his home. Technically, it belongs to Derpy, only he sticks around to help the family on account of Derpy’s a little... Well, Derpy.”
James cupped a hand over his face in frustration.
“And where is Derpy’s home?” he asked.
“It’s across town,” I said. “I know the way, I can show it to you.”
“Cool,” James said. “Let’s get going.” He turned to go--without saying goodbye, then stopped. He sighed, and turned back around. For a second, I thought he was going to thank PInkie for her help. But of course, that would have been far too civil.
“Look, I hear you know a bit about everyone in town. So... Just in case I wind up staying here any longer than I intend to--like the rest of the day--can you just give me a list of the easiest girls to get into bed with?”
“Well, Twilight’s been throwing a lot of slumber parties lately... OH! You meant like in the same bed. So you can do icky grown up stuff. Right. Got it. Um...” I’ve never seen Pinkie Pie blush before. You can hardly tell through her fur if you’re not looking straight at her.
And why is that?
Because it’s pink.
... I don’t know what I was expecting.
Well, despite being obviously uncomfortable, Pinkie still couldn’t resist the chance to be helpful.
“Well, that depends. Are you a stallion or a mare?”
“If you called me a stallion, you wouldn’t be the first.”
Why are you laughing?
It’s just so James. Just... James.
And he wonders why we’re not friends.
Wondered.
Sorry, Lyra. Continue.
Alright...
“And are you looking for stallions or mares?”
“Mares, thanks.”
“The best pony to start with would probably be Sassaflash. I know she goes for stallions sometimes. And if not, she can direct you to somepony... or something... Who’d be willing to... do things. With you. And, um... Yeah.”
I’d never seen her at a loss for words before, either. I mean, ever.
“Anybody else you can think of?”
“Not off the top of my head, sorry. But I’m sure she’ll know plenty of others.”
“Cool.” He turned and left. I would have gone after him then, but I was momentarily stunned by the conversation I’d just witnessed.
“Your new friend,” Pinkie said, “he’s kind of a jerk. My Pinkie senses told me.”
“I noticed.”
“Oh! But I’m sure that doesn’t mean he’s nice deep down! I’m sure he’s a good po... Person. Just... If you’re going to to stick around that guy, just... Be careful, okay? Play it safe.”
“I will.”
And then I left to follow James.
I didn’t ask him any more questions on the way to Derpy’s house.
Why did you keep following him? If you already realized you didn’t like him?
He was the first human I ever met. I kept hoping it’d get better and I’d see something good or redeeming in him.
Like that time I sat through five episodes of Spaceballs the Animated Series in the hopes that something funny would happen.
They made a Spaceballs animated series?
Kind of, but not really. It was to Spaceballs what the Animorphs tv series was to the books.
Eww.
I know, right? So, you went to see this Time Turner? What happened then?
The door was open, so we stepped inside and I called for Time Turner. His wife, Amethyst Star, came to greet us.
Amethyst is a nice girl. Mostly stays at home, looking after her sister, but she goes out for groceries sometimes, and she has a part time job as a jeweler. That’s about all I know about her.
“Turner’s finishing up some work in his shop. He’ll be with you in just a moment.”
“So,” James said, “you’re here to entertain us while we’re waiting for your husband?”
He put a hand on Amethyst’s rump. I’m beginning to suspect he just does that to everypony. I’m not sure if he didn’t understand that that was the reason he kept getting knocked to the floor, or if he just didn’t care.
“There may be some cultural misunderstanding happening right now,” Amethyst said. “I’d appreciate it quite a lot if you’d take your hand off my hindquarters right now.”
“No problem,” James said, sliding his hand lower, off of her rump and towards her...
There was a loud crash as he hit the ground, blown back by a wave of magic.
Amethyst Star turned around, eyes burning with all the fire of her namesake.
“In Equestria,” her horn began to glow, “we have things,” bands formed around James’ wrists and ankles, holding him to the ground, “called boundaries.”
I hope what he said next was a wisecrack. I pray to Celestia that he didn’t seriously mean it. “Never have liked those,” James said. “They have a way of getting in the way between me and...”
A brown stallion with a spiky, short-cropped mane came into the room.
“Now darling, you know how I feel about violence. Is this really the example you want to set for Dinky?”
“If you knew what this man just did, you wouldn’t be asking me that question.”
“Amy,” he said, his voice almost condescendingly patient and moral. Not that I’d think Turner would want to be condescending, but he tends to come off that way.
With a dismissive and angry snort, she let go of James and walked out of the room.
“Thanks for that,” James said, sitting up and rubbing his wrists with his hands. “Women, amiright? So! All I need from you,” he took out the plastic and metal box, “is a shot of power--electric power to charge my machine, and I’ll be out of your hair. It’ll charge on it’s own with all the magic in the air here, but I don’t want to wait a week for that to happen. So, what do you say? Lend me a hand here?”
Turner picked the box up in his hooves and examined it, closely.
“Hello,” he said. “What an interesting contraption you are. In fact, I might just say that you are beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Yes, I’d like to take you apart and find out all about you.” I’ve seen him flirt with machines before, but this time I was starting to blush. “Oh, are you a sliding machine? You are, aren’t you? Oh my Celestia, the fun Amy and I could have with you!”
“So?” James looked up with a hopeful grin.
“Oh, not you, the machine. You’re hardly more than dirt to me right now.” He waved a hoof casually in James’ direction. “My wife doesn’t get that angry without a reason, and I frankly don’t care what that reason was, if it was enough to make her act like that, it’s enough to make me dismiss you without further argument.” His expression fell as he looked at the machine and realized he wouldn’t get to spend any more time with it. He tossed it back to James. “Get out of my house.”
“Come on!” James said. “I just need a couple of Watts. Or Amps. Milliamp-hours, I think it is. I don’t quite know how it works, but it’s not a lot of power. Come on, bros before hoes?”
“I have asked you to leave. You are officially trespassing on my property. Would you prefer to escort yourself out, or should I call the authority?” It was only a few minutes later that I realised the use of the singular was intentional.
“Just give me a couple of seconds with your charger, man. A couple seconds. Come on.”
“Amy dear!” Turner called in the direction where she’d wandered off to. “Our guest is having trouble finding his way out the door, would you mind showing him the way?”
Amethyst complied. Violently.
A blast of magic sent James flying out the front door. Another spell, rather considerately I thought, caught him before he hit the ground and saved him from breaking his neck.
“Humans,” Turner said. “Of all the aliens who could have visited Equestria, did it have to be the humans?”
“You know about them?”
“I’ve met a couple. One of the most unpleasant races in the multiverse. Not actually evil, but bad tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.”
“But... The stories. The legends. Humans are always the heroes. Champions of courage and virtue. They’re... They’re good. They’re supposed to be...”
“Who do you think wrote those legends? Nothing but stories the humans tell to make them feel better about themselves. Pretending to acts of heroism they’d never be able to commit themselves. All of them brag about how brave they’d be in the face of a zombie apocalypse, the same people who have a panic attack when they see a spider in the shower. Makes me glad I was born a pony.”
I met James outside the house. He was talking to a mare I didn’t recognize, leaning in close and grinning hopefully. He kept his voice low enough that I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the mare rolled her eyes, gave him a quizzical “Did you really expect that to work?” sort of look, said back something that I didn’t pick up, and walked off, laughing.
James took that in stride, shrugged, turned around and saw me standing there.
I froze. It was like... For a second, my brain shut down. All the pressure of that day had been building up on me, and... For a moment, I just couldn’t anything.
“I, um...” My voice caught in my throat as I struggled to maintain my composure. It was not the time for a nervous breakdown. There are good times for one, in my opinion, and in public with the only people around being complete or near-complete strangers is not one of them. “It’s starting to get dark. If you need a place to say, my house has a spare bedroom. You know, if you don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Cool.” He nodded, with a look that almost might have been called gratitude if it weren’t so smug. “Sure your bedroom’s not open?”
“Do you think about anything other than sex?” I snapped.
James was silent for a moment. After a while, I realized that he honestly had to ponder the question.
“Lasers,” he said at last.
I gave him some bread to eat when we got home. It was the only thing I had that he said he could eat. I’d heard lettuce, carrots and apples were part of a human diet, but he mumbled something about rabbit food and didn’t accept any of them. I might have been wrong.
I showed him to the spare bedroom, and left him at my kitchen table, eating and complaining about the bread being stale. The bread that I’d bought that very morning.
I slept well that night. My day had been exhausting.
It was a new morning, and I was going to give James one more shot. I made a fresh batch of pancakes for two--he ate them all in less time than I would have eaten one--and tried one last time to see something good in him.
I’m not the best classical musician in Equestria. No, that honor would probably have to go to my good friend Octavia. But I played my lyre for him.
It wasn’t the world’s best. But it was my best. I poured everything I had into it. I played with all my heart, all the feeling and soul could pour into it. I sung to him the sweetest, most meaningful and moving ballad I know, Lullaby For A Princess.
I was halfway through the first verse. I smiled as I saw tears begin to come to his eyes, but then... Then he yawned.
“This stuff’s so boring. I’ve never liked classical. Can’t play any rock on that thing, can you?”
They were tears of boredom. Tears of boredom. There I was, giving him everything I had, trying to connect the one way I knew I could connect with anyone, the most intimate show I’ve ever given...
I nearly dropped my lyre. My gaze fell to the floor, and I left the room.
When I went back to the kitchen, he was gone, as were all of the pancakes. I think he went to see Sassaflash.
“That was the last time I saw him. I don’t think there’s anything else I can tell you about him.”
“There’s just one more thing we need to know,” Jim said.
“Go ahead.”
“Where were you the night of James’ death?”
“Am I a suspect?”
“Of course you are. From my perspective, the only people who aren’t suspects are myself and Dreamy, and then only because I know for a fact that Mr. Cutebottom was nowhere near this world when it happened. Every one of you is guilty until proven innocent.”
“Stop calling me that!” Dave punched his friend’s arm.
Part of me felt like I should have been offended at being called a suspect. Or, not that I should have, but like I was supposed to. Like I was morally obliged to be offended by being accused of being capable of murder. But frankly, considering that these two were perfect strangers to me, it just seemed... Fair. They didn’t have any reason not to suspect me, and I had just told them that I didn’t particularly like James.
“I went to bed early last night. I spent most of yesterday at the recording studio with my friends Octavia, Vinyl Scratch and Neon Lights, working on an album together.” Combining classical music and techno was Vinyl and Octavia’s idea. Calling it Science Fantasy was Neon’s. “I can take you to them if you want to confirm that. Plus, the owner of the studio was with us, so he can back that up.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Jim said. “I say we get a picture of what happened from start to finish, then worry about going back and confirming our facts. Fill in the details at the end.”
“So we go see this Sassaflash, find out what happened next?” Dave asked.
I couldn’t just let them leave. These... I was so sure that these were the humans I’d been waiting for my whole life.
Nothing was going to tear me away from their sides.
“I know where she lives,” I lied.