Knock-Knock-Knock
“Coming!” I called. I rolled off my makeshift bed and rubbed my eyes. A sunbeam marked halfway across the floor; I’d slept in. I grimaced a bit, but I’d expected that. I didn’t exactly get to bed early last night. At least I’d slept like a rock.
I stumbled to the door in my pyjamas, and swung it open with a yawn.
“Yes?”
“Delivery for a Wesly Kilmer?” I rubbed my eyes again, and peered down into the face of a slightly goofy-looking gray pegasus. I accepted the clipboard, and signed with a flourish.
“How does this thing work?” I asked, inspecting the tip of the stylus I’d been passed.
“Ink in the paper, I think?” The mailmare replied, pausing to tear off a receipt.
“You’re...Derpy, right?” I asked, watching curiously as the pile of mail slowly grew.
“Mhmm.”
“That seems different from most the names I’ve heard.”
“It’s a type of flower.” She laid one last package on top of the pile, and smiled at me. “That’s all, sir! Have a nice day!”
“Thanks. You too.” I gathered up my mail, and stepped back inside. Hmm. First day at my new adress, and it was already getting use. I wished for a decent chair, sat on the floor, and started in on them.
“Confirming the homestead application for Mr. Wesley Kilmer…”
Government paperwork.
“Change of address confirmation for…”
Same.
“Apologies for not attending your Hearths-warming…”
Hmm, a belated gift. I’d have to ask Twilight what was appropriate.
“Ten percent off! Fifteen percent off! TWENTY PERCENT OFF…”
Spam? Pony spam? The day after moving in...oh wait, this is for sofas. I could actually use one of those.
I paused at the next, curious as soon as I touched it. I could feel the quality of the paper immediately; the envelope was heavier, and much smoother. It was sealed with a delicate piece of foil, intricately embossed and firmly attached.
Is that real gold leaf? I carefully tore it open, and slid out a very official-looking document.
“You have been granted an audience with Her Royal Majesty, Princess Celestia, Guardian of...yadda yadda, titles, names...Ah. Day before the summer sun celebration, Golden Oaks Library? Huh. What have I done to merit a Royal Edict?” I flipped the decree over, wondering what this was about; on the back, delicate script caught my eye.
Dear Wes
Sorry to surprise you with this, but I have no time to visit, much as I’d have liked to attend your Hearths-warming.
Your homestead application has been unconditionally approved. However, since you’re living here, I’d like you to be a citizen of Equestria. For various reasons, I think the best way to accomplish this is to swear you in as an auxiliary guard.
This will formally naturalize you, and open a few other opportunities. Captain Shining has agreed, so unless you refuse, we will have a minimal ceremony next time I’m in Ponyville.
Hugs and cake,
Celestia.
I blinked stupidly at the letter for a few seconds before shrugging and adding a few questions about Equestrian law to my mental list of ‘things to ask Twilight’. I started a pile of ‘important mail’, next to the piles of ‘spam’ and ‘save for later’, and wished for my file-box, or at least a three-ring-binder.
I wonder if I can get those here? I mused for a moment over the intricacies of fabricating office products before coming to myself and picking up the next package, a wooden crate about the size of a banana box. I prized the lid off with the point of my knife, revealing a canvas-wrapped bundle and a piece of stationery.
Mr. Wesley Kilmer
As part of the survey concerning the captured changeling fort, a team scanned for symmetrical non-organic objects in hopes of discovering your arrival point. They were much surprised by their findings, and after examining them, I am returning what they found to you, as the rightful owner. Unfortunately, much of what was discovered was ruined by exposure, but a few interesting artifacts have survived.
If you would be willing, a few ponies have expressed curiosity over the nature of these things; apparently, specimen three is ordered on such a basic level it overloaded the locating spell several times, while specimen five is obviously utilitarian, but made of exceedingly rare metal.
I am exceedingly curious about the science that makes these possible.
I must sorrowfully inform you that although extensive scanning of the area was performed, no discernible traces of magic have remained; as of yet, we are unable to progress towards returning you to your home, or even conjecture whether your transportation was by intentional magic.
May the stars guide you;
Princess of the Dark Throne,
Sovereign of the Night,
Luna.
My stuff? I thought excitedly, standing and carefully lifting out the bundle. I hoisted it onto the table, untied it, and began examining what I’d recovered, laying the ‘specimens’ out one at a time.
Number one was a small bundle of fiberglass poles and sun bleached shreds of nylon. All that remained of my tent.
Number two was my stainless teakettle.
Number three was my digital watch, although missing the strap. I grinned at that. I’d taken it off for the weekend, and the battery was good for years.
Number four was my set of stainless silverware.
Number five was my cast-aluminum dutch oven. Rare metal? I’d have to ask about that.
Number six was my metal water bottle.
I sighed as I lifted the last piece out of the bundle; apparently, the changelings had destroyed my backpack and the contents after all. Still, this was miles better than nothing. I wondered for a second about my sleeping bag, but it was probably ruined; although warm, it hadn’t been expensive.
There were a few more letters, but nothing really interesting. A few belated gifts; one was just a paper cut-out. I tidied my piles, and moved them to the counter.
“Achooo!” I wiped my nose, and looked around. Maybe it was dustier in here than I’d thought. I added ‘broom’ to my shopping list, and got ready to head into town.
“I’ll take this one.” I scanned the runic entropy pump attached to back, grasping at Twilight’s knowledge to confirm my first impression; this fridge was solidly made.
“But this unit-” The salespony pointed to a larger, and rather more expensive, cooler.
“Too big.”
“Or maybe this-” One with two doors. Also, more expensive.
“Nope. I want this one.”
The salespony seemed a little chagrined to be shot down without being able to even make a decent pitch, but when I pulled out my purse, he cheered up again.
“Can you have it delivered?”
“Of course!”
“Sweet.” I gave him my address. I was nearly done shopping, and my purse was getting rather flat. I’d have been worried about eating for the next week or so, but I’d been gifted a surprising amount of food. Hopefully rent wouldn’t be a problem, because I’d budgeted pretty closely.
"Achoo!" I sneezed as discretely as I could, and thanked the sales clerk.
"Cold?" He asked, passing me a receipt. "You should get something for that." I wiped my nose. It was starting to feel like either a cold or allergies.
"Any suggestions on clearing my sinuses?"
"I swear by the cough drops at the store around the corner." He pointed to the left. "It's called Sweet Drops. Can't miss it."
"Ok. Thanks." I tucked the receipt into a pocket, and stepped out the door. Maybe I could get a free sample or something. Maybe they cost less than two bits. No harm in asking.
Sweet Drops was right where he’d said. I turned the corner and discovered a two-story brown building, done in the vaguely European style most of Ponyville used. The name was painted on the wide glass front window, displaying a dizzying assortment of candies, sweets, and confections. An ‘open’ sign, neatly lettered in vaguely antique-looking calligraphy, hung in the door. I pushed it open and stepped through, smiling at the gentle chimes which announced me.
“Just a moment,” a pleasant voice called from the back. I took the opportunity to glance around, suddenly feeling like a child.
The store was crowded. Almost every square foot of floor was covered with racks, barrels, shelves, baskets, stands, tables, bottles, bags, and boxes of candy. I saw gumdrops, lollipops, lemon drops, jawbreakers, peppermints, and, mmmm, chocolate.
There were plenty of things I’d been surprised to find in Ponyville. Coffee, for instance. Oranges. Here was another, chocolate. I don’t know when or where chocolate had been introduced to Western culture on Earth...maybe Marco Polo? Was there a pony Marco Polo? It must have come a long ways. Regardless, it was one of my favorites. White, dark, milk; I wasn’t picky.
I drifted over towards the display, feeling my purse. It seemed that what ponies did, they did to perfection. I imagined the difference between box cake and Pinkie’s cake, and tried to apply that to chocolate. The difference between a two-dollar Hersheys bar, and Swiss confectionery? Would these be even better than that? Maybe if I ate nothing but apples and foraged in the woods this week, I could-
“Oh, you came!”
I spun, thoughts of chocolate fleeing. I fell into a defensive stance on hearing the voice of my mysterious assailant, Lyra, the mint-green unicorn. She had come through the door from the back of the shop and I hadn’t noticed.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d laid it on too thick! I thought maybe I’d scared you, but if you’re here then-” I ignored her outburst. She started bouncing excitedly in place, talking the whole time.
“Lyra, are you bothering the customers again?” A cream-colored earth pony with a distinctive blue and pink mane stepped out of the back room, cutting her off. The newcomer was wearing a smudged white apron and carrying a ladle covered in something dark, which she carelessly laid on the counter. She glanced at my trapped expression, and gently pushed Lyra back through the door. “You stir the fudge, dear. I’ll help him.”
“But Bon-Bon-”
“But no, Lyra. Look, he’s obviously uncomfortable with your chatter.”
“You’re not the boss of me! I need to talk to him about-”
“No, see, I actually am; I write you a check each month and everything. Go on now.” She shooed Lyra again, and the green unicorn turned sulkily away. I relaxed slightly as she slouched back into the kitchen.
“Sorry about that. Lyra can be very enthusiastic at times, but she means well. I’m Bon-bon, and you’re...Wesley, right? I didn’t see you the other night; your friends said you’d gone off for a break from the noise.”
I sighed slightly and straightened.
“Yeah. I’m Wesley, but please call me Wes; everyone does. Sorry for not greeting you at the party. I was feeling a little...overwhelmed.”
“Heh, I understand.” She brushed her apron with one hoof, creating several new smears, and stepped up behind the counter. “Think nothing of it. Now, what are you here for? Can I get you something?”
“Um…” I cast a longing eye back at the chocolates. “I was told that you sell cough drops here. How much?”
She turned to the shelf behind her, and flipped a small brown-paper bundle onto the table.
“My special menthol blend. One bit, two dozen.” I dug out the coin, and it clinked on the counter. I paused for a second.
“Well...to be honest, I probably should talk to Lyra. She said something...odd... at my hearth-warming and sorta invited me to visit her. She’s probably excited because she thinks that’s why I’m here. But, um, maybe outside?” I glanced around the shop again. I was probably over-reacting, but I wanted to be able to run if I felt like it. Bon-bon gave me a curious look, but nodded.
“There’s a bench in the circle just down the road. If you want, I’ll ask her to meet you there.”
“Thanks.” I glanced at the chocolates again. “Just out of curiosity...do you give free samples?”