After only a short walk down the streets of Ponyville away from the town center and Sweet Apple Acres, the six were now before a giant tree. A giant tree that just so happened to have a red door leading into the stump, windows peering out from the branches revealing bookshelves inside and a personal telescope resting on balcony at the very top.
The ponies were not lying about the library/Twilight Sparkle's home being a treehouse.
As Twilight Sparkle was explaining about the problems arrogance brought to her pet lizard, the horn on her head glowed purple and the door swiftly opened before them. The inside was packed with books of all sizes, shapes and cover patterns littering the floor. Half-empty shelves were carved into the inner walls in almost every direction. A wooden ladder leaned against a balcony and lead up to the upper floors, most likely where Twilight's quarters and perhaps even more books were located.
“Don't mind the mess,” Twilight said, levitating a few books in her path back into their right places. “I was practicing some new spells and nee-” The unicorn was interrupted by a nudging from the the small, purple bipedal lizard riding on her back. She turned her head to look back at it and sternly said, “No, Spike.”
“I do not care about your personal problems. Just tell me where to find Unity City.” Flynn said, having to duck to get through the door. Not by much, but enough to bring his head down to chest height.
Twilight let out a faint sigh. “You cared enough to tell me you didn't,” she muttered, a bit quieter than she intended, however. For that reason or another, her guest did not seem to react to her snark. She then reminded herself not to lapse in discourtesy again, not even in jest, considering the nature of first contact, and the nature of the contact.
Flynn had to admit, the lizard was not like anything he ever saw before. The same could be said about the ponies in general, really, but for now his thoughts were trained on the reptile. It was clearly young, possibly only a baby judging by its short, stubby, even more rounded-out appearance compared to the ponies. Being an infant, the MechWarrior hardly considered the lizard dangerous, even if the four digits on each of its claws seemed quite sharp for its age.
On the other hand, it could very well be a fully grown adult for its species for all he knew. If so, it would only serve as another reminder that logic as Flynn knew it acted more leniently in death.
“Lizard... Spike, what are you exactly?” Flynn asked.
“Hey, I'm not a lizard.“ Spike replied, a slight raise in voice implying offense at the term. “I'm a dragon.”
“A dragon,” Flynn repeated, not even trying to make it sound like another question. Another disconnect of the living world, he realized.
A dragon was the symbol of the aptly named Draconis Combine, domain of House Kurita. Dragons were meant to be huge, ferocious, honorable reptiles that could intimidate all but the bravest of warriors. Unsurprisingly, the despot Kuritans and their armies tried to sell themselves off as embodiments of these creatures in human form, even naming at least one 'Mech after them in their conceitedness.
Flynn smirked in self-assurance that Spike was a more accurate portrayal of the Combine military's true nature.
“Yeah, now could you please apologize for calling me a lizard?” Spike asked.
“Surkai then, we can deal with my punishment later.” The MechWarrior replied, absentmindedly waving his hand. He adopted a more stern tone and turned his head to Twilight. “Now, find the town.”
Twilight Sparkle knew well the significance of Flynn's arrival. She did not need to check her collection of bestiaries or sociology books to know that the newcomer's species was unrecorded, or the very least not well understood. Thus, the two made a deal to each other after introductions were out of the way. In exchange for the answers to his questions on where to find 'Unity City' - a town she, like the others, had never heard of - Flynn was to answer her own questions regarding his species, humans, as he called them, before later contacting Princess Celestia to set up official diplomatic ties.
The unicorn had butterflies in her stomach and a small grin on her face, side effects of the potential before her. Not only could she begin research into a new field - of what to call it had yet to be decided - but she may also learn aspects of friendship in the process. Though Twilight knew well that the study of friendship was not to be glossed over, neglected or otherwise downplayed, she did have a feeling that hearing the practically alien human's interpretation on the subject would help immensely.
She knew many words and conversations in the following days would be exchanged and likely put into many social research books, especially the ones she might end up writing herself later in life. However, Twilight had to admit that if things went smoothly - well, relatively smoothly - the four words Flynn said immediately after explaining the deal between them had potential to be the most oft-quoted phrase about establishing relations between ponykind and the humans, or any newly discovered race for that matter.
“Bargained well and done.”
She cast her thoughts aside for a moment and soon every book on the floor was covered in a violet glow and levitated into the shelves in alphabetical order. The move was only meant to be temporary, as she merely wanted to tidy the room for aesthetic purposes and there was no guarantee everything went into its rightful spot. After she had the time, she would need to reshuffle books into several additional orders, double check each time, then ensure every shelf was level by hoof so as to store the maximum possible number of tomes per shelf.
Years of practice in the Canterlot Library for just such an occurrence allowed her to finish it all on average in just forty-five minutes.
The ponies, Flynn and Spike took spots around the library and sat down on the floor. Twilight levitated a few pieces of parchment, a quill and an ink bottle onto the table before her. “Now, before I help you search for Unity City, I just want get some basic facts out of the way first with a brief session,” she said, Flynn let out a small sigh.
“No, you will not,” he replied, glaring at the purple horse with poorly hidden annoyance. “In case you have forgotten. By declaring 'bargained well and done', you agreed to our terms, that any and all questions are reserved for after you help me. This agreement is final and breaking it will lead to... consequences.”
From his observations on the other two species of 'pony' at the show, the pegasi's ability to fly and to manipulate the weather was quite imposing of a threat in the manner of creating lightning bolts to strike at enemies from above, though they also did look rather frail in body - even the presumably athletic Rainbow Dash - in comparison to the 'earth ponies' like Applejack and definitely the latter's brother. Meanwhile, if Trixie was anything to go by, the 'unicorns' and their magic allowed them to lift objects off the ground and potentially throw them with great force as well as control the weather, but in turn they appeared even more physically weak. For himself, obviously he had the Firemoth, except he was barely within sprinting distance of it at the moment, and, despite having basic personal defense training, felt somewhat vulnerable outside it.
In the confines of the library however, he might be able to negate both sides advantages and disadvantages within the close quarters as well as a wolf-like cunning use of improvised weapons - a chair leg club being the first on his mind. While he had no intentions of starting a fight with the ponies, if one broke out he did have intentions of finishing it.
Twilight did not appear intimidated by the choice of words, but she nodded in compliance. “Alright, just a minute please.” The unicorn took an errant scrap of parchment and hastily scrawled the words 'Unity City' on it via magically held quill. Then the unicorn snatched the largest, most comprehensive and up-to-date atlas she had from a random shelf. Twilight's horn and the words themselves glowed a wavy purple and the book fluttered open page by page trying to find any and all matches, which would be highlighted for quick access.
No matches.
As Twilight Sparkle watched the pages flail from one side to the other, Flynn looked at the other ponies. With the exception of Rainbow Dash who continued to eye him suspiciously, all of them apparently setting their minds about various unrelated personal things.
A thought occurred to Rarity in that moment that Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were likely to drop by to meet the new being. Not so much so for the latter, but judging by Flynn's rather annoyed attitude, and the fact that he addressed himself as a warrior - and looked the part too, she admitted - the former may get herself into trouble if she was not careful. “Flynn, is there any chance that you have met Pinkie Pie yet?” she asked with a hint of worry in her voice.
“Neg,” he replied. “Are they supposed to be important?”
“Only the funnest, cheeriest pony in Ponyville!” The MechWarrior jerked up straight and twisted around when he heard a high-pitched voice behind him. From literally nowhere a pink 'earth pony' with huge, puffy hair leaped to his side and glared at him with enormous eyes and an even bigger grin. “Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie and I'm a pony and I don't know what you are so you might not know what I am because even though I'm pink I'm not really a pie but I think that would be sweet to be a pie especially a cherry one but I wouldn't mind being a blueberry one or even a rhubarb one because rhubarb is kinda pink like me!”
Flynn's first thought was to punch out the surat for spooking him, but he restrained himself only out of courtesy of the others. Although, he did seriously reconsider performing the action as she refused to just shut up. Evenly, he said, “Pinkie Pie, I am only going to say this once. Provoking a Clansman, especially a warrior, is an unwise move. I expect you to not sneak up on me or otherwise try to surprise me in any way again without a killer reason. Quiaff?”
The pink pony shut its eyes and smiled, “Okie dokie, lokie!” She then raised her hoof in what Flynn imagined was her performing the “OK” gesture without digits.
The other ponies seemed to pay no attention to the newcomer equine besides a quick look, implying that Pinkie Pie was no doubt the town crazy, and a mostly harmless one at that. The question of how she managed to sneak up behind him with no obvious means to do so floated in Flynn's mind for a moment, and vanished when the mundane, logical answer like a secret trapdoor or so would probably not be the case in the abstract, illogical afterlife and left it at that. Thus, Flynn thought it even more imperative to not to let his guard down outside his 'Mech - and even there he might not be safe.
The MechWarrior barely noticed the other newcomer slink in, a light yellow pegasus that also had pink hair. At first it seemed... shy, even more so than what Lyra expressed. Flynn chose to just acknowledge her presence, her potential as a threat - always beware the ones that least appear menacing, he knew - and return his attention to whatever Twilight was doing.
When the back cover of the atlas slammed shut, Twilight frowned and pulled more from the shelves. After thirty seconds of similar unsuccessful results, she looked back up at Flynn and said, “I'm sorry, Flynn but I cannot a town named Unity City.”
Flynn raised his brow and leaned forward slightly. “Nothing?” he asked, the unicorn nodded. “Give me that book, I want to look myself.”
Twilight brought to first atlas over to the MechWarrior, who pulled it closer to him mid-flight. When he grasped the tome as it was irradiated in magic, it felt like it had an extra 'skin', like it was coated in a violet glaze. A glaze that vanished almost immediately after, replaced with a moderate level of girth from the book being the size of a small tray.
Flynn opened up to a random page around the halfway mark, and stared at the page. On it was a map of a city, but that was not what he found odd. He slowly looked back up at the purple unicorn still at the desk. “I cannot read this,” he deadpanned.
Twilight Sparkle's eyes widened at the assertion. “You can't read it? Like... you can't read?”
“No, I mean that I cannot read this because the words in this book are literally either illegible scribbles or random horse-related symbols.” Flynn held up the open book for her to see. Even several feet away Twilight could tell it was the city of Calfella to the far south. On the side of the map was basic information about the town, which to her was perfectly understandable.
“Wait, I think I know why. That's the Equestrian variant of the alphabet.”
Flynn raised his brow, “What are you even talking about 'the Equestrian variant'? The only iteration that should be relevant anymore is Star League Standard, and that is not it.” Flynn knew that in places such as the Capellan Confederation and Draconis Combine, non-standard characters were used somewhat often due to the overtones to Ancient Terran cultures both nations shared, but those were exceptions to the rule and still uncommon.
Twilight's expression went from mild confusion to a smile that all but said 'stay, and learn'. The unicorn levitated yet another book off the shelf and held it open and aloft on a certain page, seeming to forget that he could not read it anyway. “Well, according to Discourse on Language, the written alphabet as most ponies know is composed of various curved lines - or 'scribbles' as you call them - to illustrate verbs, adjectives and most common nouns.” Twilight flipped the page to the next. “However, depending on historical preferences, pictographs is often used. However-” Twilight skipped a few pages ahead, which had the alphabet as Flynn knew it laid out in a row, no sign of lowercase though. “-there is a second alphabet, as you can see here-” She highlighted the box containing the letters. “-But it really isn't used around here.”
“Why not?” Flynn withheld his knowledge of the letters in actual, if faint, interest of what the unicorn had to say.
“This particular alphabet, originating from the Minotaurian Concordat and mainly used there and in the Griffon Kingdoms made its first significant appearance to the Equestrian public when it was put on the covers of the Daring Do adventure novels by A.K. Yearling. But most ponies just think it's a stylistic choice.”
Ignoring the notion that the alphabet was invented anywhere besides Terra, Flynn had heard of the Taurian Concordat before - some Periphery 'nation' in the galactic south, or 'rimward'. Since it was located at the opposite side of the Inner Sphere from where the Clan invasion corridors were, as well as being a relatively minor power compared to the neighboring House Davion, there was little incentive for him to know more than that. The Griffon Kingdoms, however, could be alluding to anything, maybe petty bandit kingdoms most Periphery worlds amount to be. He did not know, and it did not really matter at the moment.
“Fascinating,” Flynn said, as wholeheartedly as his tone implied, which was to say not much. “So, this helps me find Unity City how again?”
On one hand, Twilight considered just directly contacting Princess Celestia and asking her about the town. On the other hand, if absolutely none of the books she had referenced Unity City even in passing, it was unlikely that such a town still existed, if it ever did at all.
“I have come to the conclusion that the town you're looking for is not in Equestria, Flynn, or anywhere.” Twilight said, frowning. “I know that absence of evidence does not necessarily mean evidence of absence, but I don't believe this is the case here. Sorry.”
“Is this not Terra, for how can there be no evidence if this is Earth? Present me a map of this planet,” Flynn ordered. He would play no more questioning games with small technicolor horses, no more inner battles against self-doubt. He was going to confirm whether or not he was on Terra. “Now!”
Twilight made a minor scowl at the human's rudeness, but turned the pages nonetheless on the atlas towards a complete map of Equestria on one page and an incomplete map of the world on the other and presented it to the MechWarrior who took it in hand.
On both pages were irregularly shaped landmasses with mountains, lakes, rivers, cities and other geographical features scattered haphazardly, and not in the shape of the seven continents either. If these were supposed to be maps of Terra, Flynn could only wish that he could give such vital first hand intel to the Grand Council. The thirty-four Khans might appreciate it so much that they would put copies on their respective Clan's refrigerators for all to see.
Then again, it also confirmed he was not on Terra, despite what his Nav computer said.
Flynn lowered the book and sighed, a feeling of coldness washed over him. At first it was just a simple dermal chill that would inspire one to cover up. Had this been all been for nothing? The question lingered in his mind. The fact that he was dead because of dishonorable means hardly bothered him anymore. He had come to terms with that as early as first realizing such in the desert, the most he could do in that regard was wish his two other sibmates luck in their own quests to become proper warriors.
He had to admit, in the back of his mind he knew the odds of him being on the real Earth were slim, made ever slimmer as he discovered the ponies. But he pushed those thoughts back, for was the alternative of just idly sitting in his Firemoth, pointlessly contemplating his possible fates preferable? No, he knew, much better to have gone out and discovered it for himself. The unfounded assumption of everything being a test of character was just that, an unfounded assumption he made to try and find greater purpose to his actions.
The MechWarrior's sensation of cold grew stronger, now more akin to stepping out of a lukewarm shower, entering another room and letting the ambient temperature dry him off. If this is the afterlife, full of nonsense and ponies and magic... he thought. What did I do to deserve this? No, really, I take the last gelatin once and I get damned to Ponyland? He knew such questions would never be answered, not truthfully, but he still felt compelled to ask them.
Although he admitted the less talked about the gelatin incident's repercussions, the better.
Flynn felt something stroking his left arm near the codex bracelet on his wrist. He turned and saw the the yellow pony looking back at him with big, blue condoling eyes. He put his hand over the thing's outstretched leg and tried to find a depression in the soft fur where the hoof and the leg met. Apparently the ponies did not have actual hooves for he failed to find one. In order to preserve at least some sense of dignity, he gently pushed the leg away and jerked his head to signal for the pony to back off.
When it did, a little too eagerly at that, Flynn sighed again and tried to make the best of the situation with some semblance of humor - at least the closest analogue to humor a Clansman could make. “Welcome to the afterlife, Flynn,” he spoke aloud. “You get to spend it with multicolored mutant ponies... Forever. You may scream at any time.”
“Scream?! I love screaming!” The high-pitched, grating voice of Pinkie Pie brought Flynn out of his mild trance. “I mean there's so much to scream about because that's why I have a mouth even though I also have a mouth to eat and talk but screaming is also there too but I'm pretty sure you could scream without a mouth if you must!” To illustrate her claim in a most disturbing manner, the pink equine literally peeled off her mouth like it velcro - complete with sound effects - by performing a zipper-like motion with her hoof, making a muffled shriek and putting her mouth back onto her face. “See? You can scream with no mouth!”
The MechWarrior stared at the pony for a moment, and slowly broke into a short giggling fit. His laughter was not the reaction of hearing a wonderful joke so much as a coping mechanism in the response of the mortifying abuse of biology that occurred before him. It was like Pinkie Pie had just showed him the road to gleeful madness, and tried shoving him to make him take a step on it. Meanwhile, none of the others made even the slightest reaction, like it was somehow a normal occurrence.
It also made him think back to what Lyra said about how the general plots of holovid shows go with the situation he was in. She was right, he may not be experiencing debilitating shock - it was more like mirth for all the wrong reasons at the moment - but if and when he does he just needed to remind himself that those feelings are temporary and that he will adjust eventually. Somehow - it was at least more meaningful than whining about how things are different to himself like a freebirth.
With the impact of Pinkie's actions faded and/or reserved for late night reflection in the place of sleep, Flynn crossed his arms and said. “Alright, surats, though you may have failed in helping me, you kept up your end of the bargain. I will now keep up mine. You may begin your queries at any time.”
Applejack watched Twilight and Flynn begin by conversing the most basic of facts about the latter's species, such as average height, weight, dietary preferences and other trivial details she did not much mind for. Personally she wanted to know some more about BattleMechs and what Circe was like, and would ask those when the time was right. Ah really hope she doesn't take too long, Ah need to get back to work sooner or later.
The orange farmer pony could not help but wonder of what her brother was going through at the moment. She knew he was still at the clinic - they locked the door leading to the patient rooms from the inside just because of him.
Big McIntosh nervously shifted his eyes around his surroundings. The padded bed table he sat on was cold as the cellar at home, his nervous shivering doing nothing to warm himself. The soundproof walls were a sterile, unforgiving eggshell white with tiles with the horrible little slits in them on the imposing ceiling. There were no windows to jump out of, the thick wooden door was locked, and the provided reading material was at least ten months old!
Nopony could hear him scream.
As the door handle turned, the colt shut his eyes as tight as he could. He could bear to see the horror about to unfold. The door creaked in and the clopping, oh sweet Celestia the clopping that followed further instilled terror into Big Mac. A cheery, affable voice called out to him, “Good afternoon, Mr. Apple, glad you could have made it.”
He did not open his eyes, but he knew who it was. A white earth pony with pink hair in a bun with a red plus sign cutie mark, wearing a white nurse's coat over her natural one. He dared not remember any further details, they would only give him a reason to actually look at Nurse Redheart.
“Please just leave the blood-pressure-thing in the drawer! I checked mahself th-this morning. One-seventy-hundred-over-nine!” Big Mac curled up into the fetal position and refused to relax his appendages at any cost. He knew the nurse was still reaching for the gauge however. “Please no! It makes mah leg fall asleep!”
They went through the same, abominable routine every time: First a check of the blood pressure that subjected one of his forelegs to a grueling vice-like grip. Then the good nurse administered the stethoscope, a device that brought an intense sensation of cold and awkwardness to Big Mac's soul on par to the lick of a Wendigo savoring its freshly caught prey. While the third stage of checking his ears and nostrils for infection was largely mundane in comparison to what came before, the worst had yet to come.
Personally, Nurse Redheart found having to practically do a checkup on the colt every time he came in most unnecessary, and he obviously found it scary, but she also valued her job and needed to go along with it to keep it.
The nurse threw a depressor into the trash and turned to face the shuddering stallion. “Oh, grow up, Mr. Apple,” she said. “Your baby sister acts braver than you now.”
The assertion seemed to do the trick for the colt, who steadily unfurled his limbs and opened his eyes. He lowered his head, looked up at her with his eyes and with with cheeks redder than usual said, “Ya know Ah don't like bein' here, and ya know Ah don't like this part.”
“I know, Mr. Apple. That's why we're finally doing away with them,” the nurse leaned down and opened a cupboard by the sink. The next part of the session was to make sure Big Mac had something to eat before he went off to exercise, they never took his word that he 'ate before he got here' because it would defeat the purpose of this part of the therapy. “You see, Mr. Apple, while your dietary reports are good in general, there is one deficiency you should check into.” Redheart pulled out a silver platter complete with cover from the cupboard by her teeth, placing it on a small folding table in front of Big Mac.
With the platter obscuring the stallion's view of her, the nurse fiddled with the buttons on her shirt and continued. “You see, it has come to my attention that you are not getting enough cheesecake in your diet.” The emphasis placed on the word 'cheesecake' naturally convinced Big Mac's eyes to skeptically open wider in search of the source. Upon noticing that she had full attention, Redheart lifted the platter cover with a hoof and grinned an intentionally over-the-top grin. “Ta-da!”
The stallion's pupils swelled at the sight of the dessert between him and the professionally-dressed nurse. An ivory cheesecake about six inches in diameter drizzled with succulent dark chocolate over its horizontal surface unsuccessfully marred by butterscotch chips. The very sight of such a divine treat made Big Mac's tongue twitch in lustful desire and vague disappointment within the confines of his mouth.
Big Mac inquisitively looked up at the nurse, whose warm expression non-verbally asserted 'It is all yours'. To some ponies, the lack of a fork or similar food utensil would be a deal-breaker, but Big Mac was not to be deterred so easily. Besides, he washed his hooves in the sink almost right after he stepped into the room, so what harm was there?
The red stallion scooped a chunk of the cheesecake with his hooves, crammed it into his maw and heartily chewed, ignoring most conventions of manners for the sake of cake. Nurse Redheart observed enthusiastically with clipboard in hoof, writing into what he assumed to be his progress log.
Just as Big Mac was about to swallow his first bites of cake, the realization dawned on him that something was very, very wrong. He could taste it, deep within the layers of carbohydrates, fats and high-fructose corn syrup was the terrifying presence of a natural ingredient. The natural ingredient.
Pears.
The chunks of cheesecake still in his hooves simply dropped onto himself, the table or the floor. Big Mac's dilated irises quickly shrunk to the size of peas and the stallion himself froze in abject horror for a moment. Redheart took note, stepped out of his path and awaited what was about to happen next. Big Mac soon yelled his lungs out, spraying cake bits onto the counter top in the process, he flailed his appendages in every direction he could. When his mouth was sufficiently free of the dessert, he fell backwards onto the table, his mouth agape and unconscious body sprawled out.
Redheart groaned silently before quickly returning to her faux-cheery demanor. By Big Mac's own written confession, he had a hatred/fear for pears so strong that he injured himself during a panic attack while eating one, hence the need for therapy. Out of context the solution seemed to be avoid eating pears, however, the full story was much more than that.
The nurse flipped the progress log on the clipboard to a copy of the confession. To remind herself what she was dealing with, she reread it again:
I am an apple farmer, a successful one at that. And like any successful apple farmer, I must take pride in my work. Because I take pride in my work, I must view other fruits only in contempt, but especially pears. My disliking of pears is so strong that I tend to temporarily lose my mind in disgust upon tasting one. However, with the tasks of tending for my family as well as the orchard, it is relatively easy for me to forget that I hate pears. Therefore, every so often I usually take about two minutes out of my day to eat one to reaffirm my disliking of pears. For if I were to go too long without doing so, I would forget that I hate pears and may even come to like them. And if I did that, I would not take pride in my work anymore. And if I did not take pride in my work, I would not be a successful apple farmer and my family would lose our home and have to move in with a relative, who too would go under because I am an unsuccessful apple farmer. The process would repeat until the entire apple industry in Equestria is undermined, all because I liked pears.
When she first read the confession, Redheart assumed the otherwise mentally stable Big Mac was pulling some kind of prank. However, the first few sessions of inversion therapy (i.e. having him eat pears) to rid such a irrational phobia, of which he willingly and paradoxically participated in no less, confirmed his beliefs were genuine. To her knowledge, Big Mac's family was unaware of his unique stance on fruit, but if they were they would probably sue the Cakes into the ground if they found out that Sugarcube Corner supplied a cheesecake with pears in it when Big Mac was explicitly informed that the ineffective inversion therapy would be discontinued that same day.
As for what brought a fear of medicine in general to him, she did not know. But she did know more than one means to desensitize the stallion, which compared to his prior visits, proved quite effective.
Stepping over the cake bits, nurse Redheart reached into a pocket for a vial of smelling salts. The catatonic stallion drenched in his own sweat stirred to even before the vial reached his nostrils. When she deemed him adequately aware, she calmly said, “Come on, Mr. Apple, time for your sponge bath.”
With the worst over, Big McIntosh made an eager smile. “Eeyup.”