Chapter Two: Unanonymous
It wasn't a date. It wasn't. She was going to assess the danger presented by an alien species, and maybe pry a few secrets out of them, and then the princesses could handle Germane and all the ponies who were suddenly humans. A race that had never evolved on Equus, and only ever appeared in Equestria by means they couldn't even explain, though surely she'd get to the bottom of that, too.
And of course he was treating her like some sort of spy, as if she were the one sneaking around in some other species' body. Unlike him, who said he used to be a biped named Bertrand, even if he said he preferred 'Germane', now. He was just trying to ingratiate himself to her, and keep her off-balance.
Even if he'd walked her home and kissed her goodnight.
Focus, Sparkle! The unicorn mare shook her head fiercely. Now was not the time to get sidetracked. She needed advice. Only, the pony she'd usually ask was Princess Celestia, and Twilight had promised not to go to her at all until she'd figured things out. Only she needed advice if she was ever going to figure things out!
This obviously would require all of her cunning.
"Spike! I'm going out for a bit. Could you handle the library?" The dragon toddled out of the kitchen, gripping a glass of juice. Unbidden, comparisons of his physiology and the humans from the other night sprang into her mind. His somewhat-opposable hindclaw, upright posture (but balanced by a tail. How did Craft do it?), and furless hide. The similarities were actually fairly cosmetic, and his reptilian state put him about as far away from human as Twilight herself, relatively speaking.
"We're mammals, Miss Sparkle."
And ponies now, too, her thoughts continued after the recollection of his small assurance. It was just so odd, really. The implications were staggering. A little mental exercise, one her mentor had once taught her after her latest... episode of catastrophe-building in her own head, put her concerns in a more logical order.
There were problems that were in front of her, and then there were problems still on the horizon.
Firstly, she had to learn everything. But even that had to be done in order. The 'why' and 'how' were less important than the 'what', just then. There were aliens. They didn't seem to be doing anything especially nefarious, so maybe she could treat it all as more like the discovery of any other new species. Maybe even as a diplomatic effort. She probably had some accounts on hand of the first pony/minotaur encounters...
"Sure thing, Twilight," said Spike. He gestured to the shelves. "I have some re-stocking to do, and Miss Cherilee has a couple references out. I was going to grab those over the school's lunch hour. Can I stop by Sugarcube Corner, after that?" Twilight smiled at him.
"Grab some bits out of the miscellaneous drawer. Ooh, and some bagels for tomorrow morning? Pinkie said something about those raisin-cinnamon ones." Before she stepped out the door, Spike grabbed her for a quick hug. Really, he worked hard enough to get a treat now and then. And it gave her an excuse to have bagels tomorrow morning.
Mindful that it might be best to play along with Craft's ploy, for now, she'd left with one of her old dresses packed in her saddlebags. It needed a bit of repair work, which meshed well with her first stop.
The walk to the Carousel Boutique took a bit longer than usual. Likely because she'd been walking a fair bit slower than normal, as well. She eyed the thin crowd of ponies up and down the street. It... wasn't quite like after the Changeling invasion, and the spat of nationwide paranoia which had led to the glamour-breaking spell becoming widely popular among unicorns. She wasn't suspecting anypony of being a disguised emotivore, but rather of being something almost stranger. Twilight now knew, personally, three humans. Ex-humans. Whatever sort of title might apply, really.
Had she ever known any others? Sure, Ponyville wasn't the biggest town, but maybe back in Canterlot?
"Hey, there, Twilight!" The voice wasn't immediately familiar, but the thin, slangy accent wasn't strange to her, either. The unicorn turned to see Ponyville's sometimes-resident DJ. Vinyl Scratch was wearing a roguish grin under her trademark goggles.
"Oh, hello, Vinyl. Can I help you with something?" The other unicorn shook her head smugly.
"Nah, it's the other way around, babe." She levitated over two tickets. "I've got a show up in the big city next month, thought you and somepony might like to go." Twilight blinked in surprise.
"Really? Not that I mean to sound ungrateful, but this seems a bit out-of-the-blue. And these usually go for quite a lot," she added, floating the slips of paper in her own magical field. At that, Vinyl tensed up just slightly.
"Well, I've always figured you were a pretty cool mare, throwing around star-bears and the like, and I thought to myself, 'Vinyl, who's an insanely rad lady who's always cool about other people?' and then I thought-"
"People? Not 'ponies'?" interrupted Twilight. Vinyl glanced away. Or might have, really. It was hard to tell with the goggles.
"Aw, Twilight, you know I've got fans of all species. It helps to have my pronouns in order, you know?" She cleared her throat. "Anyway, say hi to Dash for me, alright? That girl owes me certain... things. For various reasons." That last bit, Twilight didn't even want to ask about. But the previous statement... Vinyl had already turned away by the time a question actually sprang to Twilight's mind.
"Hey, um, Scratch? Where'd you learn how to put together your equipment? It's pretty advanced stuff."
"My main bro Germane," called back Vinyl. "The guy's helped me out a lot, with, uh, stuff."
And then she was gone. Twilight gaped, slightly.
Did she just- Is she-
Perspective. She needed perspective.
The hospital was small but relatively modern. Sure, it had that sterile, chemical feel to it that was typical of all medical facilities, but even this facility had a touch of Ponyville charm.
Germane passed a nurse doing intake with a teenage colt and his mother and winced. That looked like a very bad sprain.
His target, though, was a bit further afield. The tiny 'isolation ward' which doubled as patient overflow lay at the end of a very practiced path on Germane's part. Luck was with him, today, and he found Redheart approaching with a rolling food cart.
"Good morning, Maudlin. How's the newest intake doing?" The nurse, seeing that Germane had managed a second visit in as many days without being in critical condition, smiled at his approach.
"Well enough. And uninjured, thanks to you." She gestured toward the cart. "I'm, well, sneaking in a bit of comfort food. Just because he's in the hospital, doesn't mean he has to eat like it, right?" Germane waggled his eyebrows.
"Miss Redheart, you stole my hospital food joke! Astounding." The mare, in respect to her greater age and wisdom, stuck out her tongue.
"That joke was old before it was first told, Germane. Besides, sometimes comfort is the only treatment you can give." Her eyes flickered toward the door. "I've already given him the standard speech, and answered as many questions as I could, and then he just sort of conked out about an hour after you and Miss Twilight brought him in." Her gaze tracked back to the stallion. "Speaking of which, any word on her... um, on her?" Germane didn't need to hear the thinly-veiled tone of worry in her voice to have expected it.
"Just waiting and seeing. I'm talking with her today, and while I can't call the news contained, then at least I don't think there's any immediate danger. And really, regardless of the necessity, it almost felt unfair to put the poor woman on the spot like that. I'm going for the 'friendlier' approach today." He smiled, just a bit. "A lot friendlier, actually. We're going out to lunch."
"Oh, you're going out to..." Redheart caught the meaning behind his words, and her face went deadpan. "This is a worse idea than when you gave the Crusaders plans for a pig-drawn bobsled." The stallion shrugged.
"And I threw in the clock-powered 'Jingle Bells' musical horn for the hell of it. I regret nothing, except for some of the property damage." Germane glanced shiftily down the hallway. "Besides, Miss Belle looked like she was going to cry if I didn't."
"You are useless around little girls, Germane. Fatherhood is going to be hell, and your future progeny will be the end of us all." The stallion grinned.
"I bet they'll have my eyes, as well as my love of shiny things." He coughed. "Anyway, I figure if we ever get around the whole strategic stalemate, then Twilight might actually... be into me. Maybe."
"Stranger things have happened," replied Redheart in a much softer tone. "And she's a nice mare. Wear a tie, young man."
"Yes'm."
"And try not to get us all rounded up in camps."
"Tall order, ma'am." Germane carefully stepped aside as Redheart knocked softly on the door.
"It's Nurse Redheart. Are you decent, hon?" Something muffled that might have been taken as a 'yes' came through the door. Before she entered, Germane held a hoof to her fetlock.
"You've been... checking on him, right?" Her gaze snapped over.
"Of course. I learned my lesson a long while ago." Before she could bristle at the suggestion, Germane nodded.
"We both did, I suppose. Let's say 'hi'."
The new pony, with a burnt-orange mane and yellow coat, was laying awkwardly on the bed with his sheets bunched up high around his withers. It was, understandably, a very human pose. Actually reclining back, though, was a bit of a trick for most ponies, and downright odd if that pony had, like Germane, wings.
"Hey, man. Remember me?" tried the pegacorn. The earth pony nodded.
"You and those... others. You found me in the forest where I... woke up. Redheart said you were a human, like us?" His tone was uncertain, but at least he was responsive, thought Germane. That was a good sign.
"Born in the United States, spent most of my teenage years around New England, and I had a high score in Street Fighter that was to die for. I... came forward about eight years ago. And yes, the wings mean I can fly." He'd gotten the question before. "Did the nice nurse show you some magic?" he asked.
"The... floaty thing," admitted the stallion, which Redheart was doing right then to place the tray of food on the bedside table. "Some color-changing spells, too."
"Do you have any questions? Anything she didn't tell you about in the welcome speech? Take it from me, nothing's too personal. We're going to make sure you get set up as happy as can be. Equus is a weird place, but it's pretty high up there in terms of where we could have woken up. Or not woken up at all, I guess." The earth pony, and Germane would have to get his name shortly enough, mulled over the question.
"How... how did you..."
The other question. The one that everyone asked at least once.
"Look. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours, deal?" The stallion flinched, but nodded. That was a good sign. Counseling was mostly an informal thing for Hominids Anonymous, but coming forward was rarely a scar-free experience.
"I was... I was getting a kidney transplant. The doctors said the odds were good, but... but if I started bleeding too much, or if the anesthesia..." He shuddered. Germane had a response to that honed by time, experience, and talk. He hopped up on the bed and hugged the hell out of the other stallion.
"It's alright. It is. You've got another chance, guy. Going out when you're already asleep is one of the nicer ways I've ever heard of." Redheart did her best to remain inconspicuous as Germane's chest turned damp with tears. She didn't react when she heard his own story, and that was likely for the familiarity of the speech. The nurse was a trooper, Germane knew, and a stronger pony than he.
An hour later, Andrew (new name pending) had calmed down enough that Germane was able to leave with a quick, but sincere, promise to return later. Andrew didn't have a cutie mark, yet, but his slightly-improved mood while talking about his old track team was encouraging. Germane wasn't much of an athlete himself (running for his life didn't count. Everypony in Ponyville did that, from time to time), but he knew that special talents came in, literally, every variety.
While Germane would never have a single ill word for somepony who'd (and it happened, very occasionally) reached adulthood without a mark, he knew it made blending in infinitely easier.
Now, though, Germane had to figure out if he owned any ties.
"Come on in, I'll be up there in a moment!" called a voice from the back of the shop.
"It's just me, Rarity. No need to hurry," called back Twilight. Contrary to that, though, the white-coated unicorn hurried to the front almost immediately.
"Twilight! Dear, how are you? I'm sorry for teasing you the other night. I swear I meant everything else I said in all sincerity."
"I get it, Rarity. I'm not mad. Actually, I was hoping you could do a quick repair job, for me." She gently levitated a bundle of cloth from her saddlebags and floated it over. The unicorn tsked and took it in her own magical grasp.
"Just the left strap, yes?" Twilight nodded. "It should be easy enough. I remember this one. It's a shame you don't wear it more often- Summer dresses suit you, dear. Any special occasion?" Twilight shifted nervously.
"Sort of a business meeting." Rarity grinned over at her from where she was searching through a tackle-box of various threads.
"Has our dear librarian gone into accounting? Real estate? Or is this business a bit more personal than that?"
"Rarity..."
"No, no, that came out wrong. Really, Twilight, you don't need to be defensive, or embarrassed, or any of that! It's actually... rather relieving to see you interested in somepony. Personally, I've been a bit worried. I understand that you're busy, and Ponyville has always been Equestria's most turbulent little town, but when you've hardly shown an ounce of interest in... things, it never seemed entirely healthy."
Twilight recoiled, slightly. That, she felt, was a bit uncalled for!
"I wondered if you might not be into stallions, but then Rainbow Dash claims she's never gotten that, er, vibe off of you, and there are plenty of available mares around besides. I don't mean to be forward, but are you perhaps asexual?"
"No! I mean, just because I-" Twilight moaned in consternation. "Not looking just means not looking, Rarity!" The unicorn didn't seem at all put out by the outburst.
"And lucky you, to have found even without looking!" Rarity sighed. "You never mentioned arranging a second date, you know. You've been holding out on your old friend." That brought Celestia's student up short. The next 'date' had been an afterthought to a series of events that she wasn't sure she could even share with her friends just yet.
When she'd seen aliens last night. When she'd been faced down by, of all things, a domesticated manticore. When she'd had a shapeshifting pegacorn surrender like she'd been holding a crossbow to his head, looking so desperate...
"I guess I just forgot to mention it," she finally said out loud. Her friend made a disappointed hum, but nevertheless struck the floating dress with a heat-press spell, leaving it smooth of wrinkles. The right strap at the top of the dress was as good as new, already, and the repair work was invisible.
Twilight took it and looked it over with a pleased little hum.
"Mind if I shrug this on?" she asked. Rarity flicked her tail to one side of the room.
"Changing screen is just over there," she said. Twilight trotted over and found, just like the last time she'd worn it, the cloth was a comfortable fit against her coat. She trotted out and did a quick spin, and Rarity seemed satisfied with her work.
"Well, I've got some re-sizing work to do, but I expect you to come in with a full report afterward, understood?" Twilight sighed.
"Are you implying some sort of chain of command, here, Rarity?" The fashionista blinked uncomprehendingly.
"But of course! I'm a good five weeks older than you, Twilight. It wouldn't do to have my mentoree go without my sage advice!"
Rather than try to argue that, since Twilight just knew there was some sort of verbal trap waiting for her, she simply gave a very quick 'thank you' and made her escape. She was almost certain she had just imagined the evil chuckling as the door swung shut behind her.
From the Boutique, Twilight could just make out the clock over town hall. Assuming that 'lunch' meant noon, she just had to...
I knew I was forgetting something!
Neither she nor Germane had mentioned a real meeting place. He might be heading toward the library now, which was probable given that he had asked, but it wasn't impossible that he was still at his house. Or even that he'd assumed that they'd be meeting again at the same cafe as before.
Bad. This is bad. Regardless of whether or not any definite arrangements, or even a set time, had been made, she loathed being late.
What kind of options did she have? It was a long shot, but...
She focused, and recalled a handy little spell she'd learned shortly before moving to Ponyville. Illusions had never been her best field of study, but simple light shows weren't exactly difficult. The spell wove itself in a tightly-packed violet ball of energy, and when released, she traced its path to a point about forty hooves above the level of the buildings around her. The panchromatic symbol was blurrier than she'd have liked, but it was recognizable enough. Now, if she was lucky...
"Heeeere I come, to save the daaaaay! What's up, Twilight?" And lo, there was Rainbow Dash.
"Sorry to bother you, Rainbow, but could you do me a favor?" The pegasus considered the question carefully and stroked her chin in a pantomime of deep thought.
"Well... that depends. What's the favor and what can I get for it?" Twilight lifted one single eyebrow.
"Find Germane and I won't mention the drool I found in 'Daring Do and the Fountain Free'." The cyan mare looked aghast.
"I just sort of fell asleep on it a little!" She swallowed. "I mean, I don't drool in my sleep! Argh!" She shot up into the sky, shot back down, and grumpily muttered, "He's headin' toward the library. I know nothing, and you know nothing, and that's the way we both like it."
"Got it, Rainbow!" Twilight grasped the other mare in a quick hug, which softened the other's disposition just a bit. "Thanks!"
"Yeah, whatever. Have you seen Vinyl anywhere? She must be indoors, and I just got off work, so..." The librarian frowned.
"You're looking for Vinyl Scratch?" Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.
"Well, duh, right? I've been waiting for her to get back from Baltimare for two weeks, now. So like I said, have you seen her?" Rainbow Dash tapped her hooves together in a quick, nervous gesture. "You don't think she's avoiding me, do you? I keep missing her. I mean, she's probably busy unpacking and stuff, but I had this totally awesome idea and I thought she might be up for, um, something awesome."
"Rainbow Dash, are you and she, do you really think you should-" Twilight broke off. What could she say? 'I think Vinyl's an alien'? 'Don't do what I'm pretending to be doing right now'?
"I think she said she was looking for you this morning," she settled for saying, which made Dash brighten up just a smidgen, and probably a smidgen more than the 'too-cool' pegasus would ever admit to. "Good luck. I've got to go."
"Um, sure. Wait, why are you dressed up? Why was the slow-mo pegasus wearing a tie? Twilight?"
Germane didn't expect to see Twilight already outside the door of the library, let alone actually dressed up, but it certainly made the tie and waistcoat wrapped around his upper body feel a lot less silly.
"Miss Sparkle."
"It's Twilight, Germane. I hope you had a destination in mind," she said with a poise he wouldn't have expected from somepony who was, he suspected, as big a nerd as himself.
"Er, yes. This way, Twilight." He led, and was relieved when she fell into place beside him. "You dressed up." The sundress was a dark blue, with pale violet flowers printed above and below a thin sash of fabric around her waist.
"So did you." Germane cleared his throat.
"So I did. I hope you like pegasus cuisine. If not, about half the menu is, uh, local fare." Twilight was quietly thoughtful, for a moment.
"Mountain flowers, lots of olive oil?"
"Basically. Some pasta, too. Fish, even, if you happen to, uh, like it." To his relief, she didn't look immediately repulsed. Unicorns, and especially earth ponies, typically didn't favor seafood, which was the closest just about any pony came to eating meat.
"I don't mind it, but I'll probably order something else. Princess Celestia insisted I try some at some of the royal banquets. It's an acquired taste, I guess."
"I love the stuff. In most of the places I lived in, I grew up pretty close to the seaboard." There. Safe, generic comments. The mare glanced around, cautiously, and when no immediate listeners became apparent, asked:
"So humans like fish, I'm guessing? You said they don't really eat flowers, right?" Germane worried at his lip, slightly.
"We can eat some flowers, yeah, but not very many. Mostly we're made to handle more complicated energy sources. Fruit's fine, for instance, but not grasses or alfalfa. We don't have the two-chambered stomach to draw calories from those things. Beyond that, we can eat basically anything. We tend to be evenly omnivorous." Twilight frowned.
"Like griffons?" A distinct lack of freaking-out, noted Germane. She was definitely more worldly than her upbringing let on. At least in certain subjects.
"Pretty much, except it's been thousands of years since our bodies have had to adapt to raw food." With surprise, he realized the walk had already brought them to the small, but well-furnished restaurant tucked around the corner of the town's main road. Twilight might have been too involved in the conversation to notice, but he felt relieved to be away from the various watching eyes. The mare was a local celebrity, and he was, if not famous, then at least the center of a lot of odd stories.
"Here we are. Um, probably best to leave certain topics for later, right?" The unicorn looked like she wanted to argue, but reluctantly agreed.
"So long as we can go back to talking about it afterward." It wasn't a question, but Germane replied all the same.
"Of course." He held the door open, and they stepped through.
"Table for two?" asked their oak-colored maitre d'.
"Yes, please," said Germane. After they were left with a pair of menus, and Twilight finally became aware of the whispered conversations around them, he tried to distract her.
"Just ignore it. They'll get bored of us and go back to their hay-fries eventually." Twilight grimaced.
"The stares were always worse at the capitol. I'll be fine. What would you know about 'waiting them out'?" she asked. Germane grinned humorlessly.
"Well, there was that time you convinced Ponyville that I was harboring a drug ring, or the time Miss Dash filled a cloud with neon paint and made it follow me all day, or-"
"I get it! I already apologized, and-" Twilight frowned, then added, "and I'm sure I can get Rainbow Dash to apologize, too."
"No need for that. I already got her back." The unicorn cocked her head to one side.
"What? When?" Germane closed his eyes in sweet reminiscence.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to invert a cloud-house and make it stick that way, without waking up the pegasus inside?" Twilight's eyes bulged.
"That was you?" When the conversations around them hushed, she shrunk in on herself in embarrassment.
"Right. Well, Miss Dash and I have, I think, reinvented the art of war as we know it. So long as she never, ever gets so desperate as to bring Miss Pie into it. Um," he sought a topic. "What was Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns like?"
Germane listened and learned about the institution of learning which basically blew his human schools out of the water. Though that might have had something to do with the fact that his own schools had never taught 'Advanced Thaumaturgy'. By necessity, all his studies since coming forward to Equestria had been on his own time, or gathered from whatever he could pick up while helping Olive Branch. Maybe he could do a correspondence course to fill in some of the gaps...
Food arrived in a timely fashion, and Germane tucked into his salmon and rose petals. Twilight seemed happy with her greens and bluebell salad. The whispers had, indeed, tapered off and the two of them became just another couple of diners. For the most part. Germane was still very much aware that, even for very different reasons, the two of them were far from normal. And while the day seemed to be going well in the diplomatic sense, it still lacked a certain something on a more personal level.
It was only after their plates had been cleared away and he'd left enough bits to cover the meal ("I invited you out, it's only fair that I pay.") that Twilight left off on her recollections and all but dragged them out of the restaurant. Knowing what she was going for, he started to steer her in another direction.
"Come on. I feel like spending some time outside, today, and I know somewhere we won't be overheard." That seemed to satisfy the mare.
While Ponyville borders the Everfree, only the farms and orchards along the south actually come close to the treeline. North of there, the space between the town and forest runs a bit wilder. Not dangerously so, but just in the sense that it wasn't really developed.
There was a tiny, peaceful grove there next to a pond too choked by reeds to swim in, and brambles covered the ground on three sides. The grove, though, was as safe and secluded as one could find.
"So," said Germane. "Questions?"
Obviously he'd been seriously misinterpreting patience as calm. Twilight was obviously making some sort of noise, which might have been interpreted as a string of questions if one were to record it and play it at a fifth of the speed.
"Nope. Try again. Some of only have mortal ears, Twilight." The unicorn flushed and coughed, mouth likely a bit dry from the stream of words.
"Sorry. First thing's first. Could you please transform?"
The process was tiring, but not actually uncomfortable, and he had managed a decent meal just a short time ago. Germane reached for the reflex, and changed.
By the light of day, Germane's other form was much less... what, threatening? It was still odd, but watching him stretch and just sort of, well, plop down on the ground onto his folded legs had a sort of graceful look to it. Like watching a pegasus land. His limbs weren't that disproportionate compared to a pony's, but the normally upright stance made them seem longer. Certainly he moved less ploddingly than, say, a minotaur.
Germane reclined back, and she saw how his withers had a true ball-and-socket joint. Shoulders, she noted.
His muzzle was a retreated mandible system, on an even plane with his eyes and lower forehead. As she stared, he waggled his ears fractionally.
"Er, does that mean anything?" she asked, looking at the previously immobile soft shell shapes to either side of his head.
"Absolutely. It means I spent too much time practicing some otherwise useless muscles in front of a mirror when I was twelve years old." The answer caught her a little off guard, and he obviously noticed. He smiled.
Sharp teeth. Not like Spike's, which were mostly adapted to crushing gems, but they certainly backed up his claims of being omnivorous.
His body was mostly covered by roughly-stitched clothing. Something about that nagged at the back of her mind.
"Last night," she began, "the other humans..." she flushed, "...most of them changed with clothes. Well-tailored ones. Why don't you?" It wasn't actually a ground-breaking question, but then she had time to cover all the bases. Germane shrugged and glanced away uncomfortably.
"The first time a human changes, I figured out, we appear with the same clothes we were wearing before we came forward. My old ones weren't really in a state to be worn."
"Why not?" Her mouth was, for once, reacting faster than her brain instead of lagging behind.
"I burned to death, Twilight. I changed and was covered in ashes." The mare fell back in surprise, sitting on the soft carpet of leaves.
"Oh. Oh Celestia, I'm so sorry-" Germane glanced back sharply.
"Stop that. Seriously. Smoke inhalation probably had me unconscious long before it... finished. I'm just happy I was the only one at home at the time." Then he couldn't seem to hold eye contact anymore, and looked down at his hands.
"Redheart had holes in her dress from... some sort of weapon. Fill was wearing a black tux that, well, you couldn't see the bloodstains on it. I imagine the newbie will have a hospital gown. We've all got sob stories, Twilight. I really just don't want to think about it when I don't have to." He winced. "I have no idea what Ash was doing naked. I'm going to say he probably went out with a smile and never, ever ask for details."
"But that's horrible!" Twilight forcibly calmed her breathing. "Okay. Sorry. I'll let it go for now. I just... you, um, you said Olive Branch was one of the first?" Germane nodded, and looked relieved at the change in topic.
"Yeah. Almost eighty years ago. There aren't any real clues of anypony... anybody else before him. Every year, one or two of us show up in each of the wild magic zones. It sped up after the first few decades, rate-wise, but it's held steady for about twelve years, now. None of us have heard of it happening outside of Equestria, or of us waking up as anything other than a member of one of the three pony tribes. And all of us speak Equestrian when we show up. It took Olive a while to even realize he wasn't speaking Spanish anymore."
"Spanish is your language, then?" Germane grinned at the question.
"English, actually. Humans have hundreds of languages and dialects, and each has several distinct accents." He cleared his throat. <ju hæv ləvli ajz, mɪs.>
"It sounds nice," replied Twilight with some small wonder. Equestrian, or more properly the long-adapted unicorn dialect, was certainly more fluid, but 'English' had a subtle beat to it. It was sort of rhythmic.
"It's a good thinking language, I've been told. French for poetry, German for science, Spanish for music... personal tastes vary, of course." He chuckled. "I can manage a few words in those, but mostly to get directions to the nearest washroom. Linguistics was never my thing."
"I have to be honest, I don't know of any natural process that could 'bring you forward' like that," admitted Twilight. Germane shrugged again.
"It's magic. Of course it's magic, but there's been no verified account of real thaumaturgy back on 'ərθ', ever. Sorry. Um, 'Earth'." He tilted his head back, revealing a voice box against the taut skin of his throat. "So the cause, if there is a definite one, is here, or at any rate not there. Heck if I know. Dozens of minds have been set on trying to figure that one out for quite a while. And what would I do if I learned the mechanism? Turn it off? Decide not to give a stay on death to whoever else might come forward in the future? Unless the mechanism itself presents a clear and present danger, I'm just not sure."
It was a lot to consider. Twilight had demanded answers, but felt like she'd jumped hooves-first into an ongoing research project, where the subjects of the study were also the ones administering the experiments.
"Have you ever been able to locate this 'Earth'-world?" The human shook his head. She wondered if that was a normal gesture for his species, or just something he'd picked up to adapt to pony society. Another question on her list, there.
"Assuming it's even in this universe? Still no. Even if we are, the constellations are different enough that we must be, at a bare minimum, many light-years away. And the idea of magic developing on one world and not another sort of seems like a bitter pill to swallow. I'm pretty sure this place is laughing at conventional physics."
"The laws of magic are well-documented," lectured Twilight, ignoring his aside of 'by ponies'. "We'll get to that later. What was it like changing shape like that? Permanent polymorph spells are far from common, and usually cosmetic."
That question, too, seemed to require more forethought than she would have considered necessary. Still, more complete answers were always worth it.
"It feels completely, totally natural," he admitted. "I might as well have been born with a fuzzy coat. We all have the right posture, balance and expressive body language from the get-go. Until we actually question it. Then things sort of go down the toilet and we're all fumbling messes. It's the same with..." Germane blinked, focusing on some indefinite point before meeting Twilight's eyes again.
"The bodily dysphoria can be really, really bad sometimes. Have you ever heard 'dystribal fervor'?" Twilight nodded, though not with any real confidence. Earth ponies thinking they were unicorns, unicorns thinking they were pegasi, and sometimes born with internal magic systems that didn't match their original bodies. It could, she knew, be a very painful topic. "I grew out of it, mostly. Most of us do, with help. We've all got pony-shaped brains, which I'm not sure helps or hurts us. So... I could say it's alternately awesome and horrible." He grinned, then.
"Maudlin actually helped me a lot, there. She encouraged me to fly as often as I could. When I moped, the crazy mare just levitated me and let go." Twilight was probably pretty emotive at that, as he gave a reassuring wave of his arm. "She knew what she was doing. Don't worry. I needed just that kind of kick in the flank."
Then things got confusing. Germane lay back onto the ground, rotated, and looked at her from an inverted position as he tucked his hands under his neck.
"Your turn, Twilight. Tell me, how do you feel about all of this funny human nonsense?"
That... was probably a fair question. As she went to answer, though, Germane sprang back up onto his feet.
"Hold on. My human instincts are acting up."
"Your human instincts," said Twilight doubtfully. "Are those anything like human 'memory rays'?" He chuckled and stretched.
"Nope. Honest-to-goodness human instincts. You see, there is a tree here. I haven't climbed a tree in ten years. I must climb this tree."
"What?" But by then he'd already hopped and grabbed at the lowest bough. His legs kicked out, up, and wrapped around it. Now hanging fully upside-down, he gave her a look of utmost seriousness.
"Be with you in a moment. I've got to get some altitude."
"Hey, wait!" But he was already moving up through the foliage.
"Hey, a squirrel! Pardon me, fellow arboreal traveler. Going up, here." Twilight wandered closer, stayed to one side in case of falling hominids, and peered up. Finally, he reached what must have been a comfortable fork and sat in it, kicking his feet back and forth like a colt.
"You may now continue," he informed her. She furrowed her brow up at him.
"I am not shouting up a tree, Germane!" He shrugged.
"Then come up. Do your magic flashy thing and I'll catch you."
"No!" He frowned back at her.
"Now, now. Who's the tree-climbing expert here? It's completely safe. Isn't the Bearer of the Element of Magic supposed to be brave?"
"Brave doesn't equal stupid!" she called back, and felt ridiculous for carrying on the argument for as long as she had, already. "If you drop me, I'll teleport back down and then teleport you straight to Applejack's pig pen!" she warned.
"I'm quaking in fear up here," he replied solemnly. Frustrated, and feeling more than a little put-upon, Twilight gathered her magic and jumped across the relatively short space. Before she could reorient herself, strong limbs wrapped around her barrel and pulled her in close. She glanced around at the relatively stationary tree limbs, down at the ground, and then quickly back up again.
"Why did I just do that?" she wondered out loud.
"Because you were aching to be held in my arms?" suggested a very close voice. Her head snapped around. It was, of course, Germane who was holding her up. She hadn't exactly expected him to drop her, beyond the slight doubt that he had as much dexterity as he'd claimed, but it was a different story seeing his cocky grin up close.
"You're a funny one," she told him, blandly. He waggled his ears again, prompting her to sigh.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, a bit more seriously. Twilight took stock of herself. Aside from the vertigo, which only seemed to be triggered when she looked downward (which seemed like an appropriate parable, given the earlier topic), she wasn't exactly uncomfortable. The close contact was, admittedly, a bit different, but she couldn't claim to dislike it with any real passion. Germane had her in his lap, presumably to make supporting her easier.
"I'm... fine," she said. She glanced down. "Um, hold me tighter. Not that I'm afraid of heights, but-"
"I understand," he replied, and his grip firmed. Twilight relaxed just slightly.
"Is this seriously that fun for you?" she asked. She felt Germane nod against her neck.
"Most humans love to climb things. Or at least they're born that way. A lot just sort of lose the impulse after a while, until you get some adults who get dizzy mounting street curbs." Twilight felt the rumble of near-laughter in his chest. Once she'd become certain she wasn't going to immediately fall to her death, she realized that she was sitting in a stallion's lap. Only a thin veneer of poise kept her from teleporting back onto the grass. "So," he continued, "back to the question. I'm sure you've got some sort of opinion about things by now."
It was still a fair question, and an intelligent one on top of that. Really, from his perspective she must have (don't phrase it that way you are not Pinkie) left him hanging.
"You, the ones I've met, anyway, seem... worried. All the time. Like disaster refugees, I suppose." Germane sighed.
"That's not entirely unfair. Still, we're a lot more stable when we're not fearing for our lives. I think maybe a third of us have stable families, almost all of us are employed, and, oh yeah, we're not always freaking out over being colorful little horses."
"Ponies, you ape."
"Hey. I resemble that remark." He was quiet for a moment, and Twilight could match the sound of his breathing to the rise and fall of his chest. "Are you afraid of us? Of me?"
"What kind of a question is that?" she asked.
"Think back to the first time you met a member of another species. Griffin, minotaur, zebra, any dragon that doesn't regularly raid your pantry for gems. Or the human popping up behind a manticore. Now tell me, are you afraid of me?"
"No!" And it was true, at least put strictly in those terms. And, because she was feeling the teensiest bit irritated, she added, "And I'm certainly not surrendering to the evil human empire."
"Oh, now that's just-" He broke off at the same time that Twilight's head whirled back around. Very familiar voices were drifting up from the distance.
"Ah'm tellin' y'all, Ah saw it up here!"
"We're going to have to stay silent," mumbled Germane. "Not a word. Agreed?"
"I can teleport us both," she whispered. He shook his head.
"Magic doesn't affect my human shape right. Changing is tiring, and these branches don't give me wing clearance. Not one word, okay?"
"Fine," she replied softly. She could be quiet. Heck, she'd snuck into and out of the castle a fair few times. Even if said trips were for covert book runs, which completely justified stealth in her opinion. His comments about magic 'not affecting him right' were curious, though, and she'd have to investigate later.
Three familiar fillies wandered below, into the clearing.
"I can't see any Yetis, Apple Bloom. I thought they were abdominal snow-things?" Sweetie Belle sighed.
"That's 'abominable', Scootaloo. Abdominal is like those exercises my sister's always doing."
"Yetis exercise? Ah figured they wouldn't need it." Scootaloo snickered. In fact, Twilight could feel Germane doing the same thing, if much more muffled. The Crusaders were admittedly entertaining, so long as they didn't have any tools, chemicals, flora, fauna, or spare string on hoof.
"Whatever!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle. "The point is, I thought we already went for our monster-catching cutie marks?"
"I keep saying, we need to narrow it down! Maybe we don't get a mark like a monster-catching net, but having a Yeti plastered on our flanks would be bad-awesome!"
There will never be an ounce of confusion as to who that filly idolizes, thought Twilight bemusedly.
"Maybe we can flush it out?" Well, that was worrying. The tree-dwelling (though not typically tree-climbing) unicorn turned to suggest that maybe they should be looking for other options. She was sure she could do so quietly enough that they wouldn't be overheard, but Germane obviously believed otherwise. Before she could utter so much as a word, he was kissing her.
Again.
This one was just as much a surprise as the last, but then he wasn't going to be disappearing through any convenient doorways this time. No leaving her to react to it after the fact. No just declaring that he was courting her and not waiting for a reply, even if she hadn't said that lunch hadn't been a date and maybe she hadn't objected to going off somewhere quiet. She only wasn't pushing him away now because that would alert the foals below them, and she was gripping his shirt to steady herself on the precarious perch. She...
I am being kissed I am kissing back where did things go wrong is this in the manual?!
Only she hadn't bothered to even look for a manual because she hadn't, for whatever reason, been taking the situation seriously enough. There hadn't been a situation to begin with! At least, not aside from the whole 'alien contact' deal.
'Alien contact'. The girls would laugh themselves sick, she thought. Though only a small part of her was thinking that. The rest of her was concerned with how she was supposed to breathe when her lower lip was being sucked on with some fair amount of force. 'Learn, adapt, and act' was a frequently-spoken mantra of higher spellcasting. In her state of mind, she decided that it could be put to use for other things, too.
Twilight sucked in air through her nostrils, swallowed nervously, and returned the favor to Germane's lower lip.
It wasn't Germane's first kiss, not even since coming forward to Equestria (Vita plus mistletoe plus eggnog, she was ten years his senior and the next morning had involved a lot of avoided eye contact), but it was quite possibly the longest. And most pleasant. And... she'd kissed him back. He was pretty sure his shirt had been torn, though that was more poor make rather than any especially forceful move on the mare's part. Not forceful, no, but definitely involved. 'Too-soft to be real keratin'-hooves had settled on his ribs, and her upper body was twisted toward his so that they were chest to chest.
He could feel her heartbeat. The funny, tri-valve vascular muscle that was pretty standard on Equus and which had freaked him out some time ago made a comforting flutter against his skin. His did the same thing, after all, most the time.
She'd kissed him back.
I should say something clever and romantic. Obviously. Something spontaneous, or cadged off of one of the classier kind of film.
"I think the coast is clear."
God damn it!
Twilight's eyes cleared, slightly. They'd been distractingly dark, a moment beforehand. She tilted her head to get a view (just a quick one) of the ground.
"Right. I'll just-"
The pop and flash of teleportation wasn't entirely unexpected, so Germane was saved crashing through a series of comically-thin (or tragically thick) branches. Instead, he just sighed in disappointment and began climbing down.
Feeling bold, or at least frustrated, he triggered the change just as he was dropping down from the last branch. To his surprise, his wings were out and catching a cushion of air just in time to soften the impact of his hooves on the ground. Twilight was standing a short distance away, casting a watchful eye out for the Crusaders.
Say something significantly less stupid, this time! he ordered himself.
"May I walk you home?" Better. The unicorn looked tremendously uncertain and flustered.
"What? I mean, I should really-"
"There are one or two questions I wouldn't mind asking you myself, Twilight." He thought, quickly, for any topic sufficiently complicated and innocent that she wouldn't brush him off. Stupid him and his stupid comments, he didn't want her to think he was taking her lightly!
"You've had real experience with them, so do you know how changelings take other shapes? Anything that could make the reflex less taxing on the other humans would be a huge advancement, I'll bet. Besides," he added, a tad less steadily, "it would be nice to spend more time with you." The mare stared contemplatively at the brambles for a moment.
"Well... some of it is technically a state secret, but I can tell you that..." She talked on, and when Germane started trotting next to her, she kept pace. The discussion itself was fascinating enough that the library came into view all-too-quickly, as if the intervening distance had somehow been shortened.
They both glanced up at the living building. Germane turned back to watching Twilight in time for her to see him already looking at her once she'd brought her own attention back around.
"It's probably too late for it to sound proper," he said, "but given how it is the end of our meeting... may I kiss you?" Germane expected some sort of verbal answer. He got a sharp pain in the muzzle instead. Twilight looked horrified.
"Oh gosh I thought I was supposed to close my eyes when I did that are you okay?" Germane blinked back the automatic wetness in his eyes that always followed a hit to the face and pulled the very same trick that the mare had just tried herself. Except he kept his eyes open.
"I'm pretty sure we need to practice before we can manage blind make-outs," he assured her. "Hope to see you soon, Twilight."
"Twilight!"
"Er, yes?" The unicorn glanced down into Spike's appalled face. He kept glancing from her, to the window, and back again.
"You, that, you and that stallion! Why? What?" He darted forward and grabbed her forelegs pleadingly. "Twilight, why is that pegasus doing loop-de-loops down the street?" Twilight felt a flush of warmth in her chest.
"I... guess I'm better at kissing than I thought?" She immediately caught her mistake, then.
"Why were you kissing him?!" The little dragon curled into a ball and began thrashing around on the ground. "You're not supposed to be kissing stallions!"
"And why not?" asked Twilight in consternation. He glared up at her.
"You're my sister! That's wrong on so many levels! Now I have to fight him to the death, or something!"
"That is not how it works," she warned him. "And why are you getting so bent out of shape? I'm allowed to kiss whomever I want."
"I'm telling the Princess."
"Like hay you are." Spike uncurled, rolled upright, and dove for the stairs.
"You're right. I have to tell mom! She'll fix this."
"Oh no you don't!"
It took ten minutes of chasing, sneaking, and baiting several snares with opals to settle the matter. Finally, Spike was tied up in several bodylengths of knotted bed sheets and parked firmly in one of the reading chairs. Twilight paced in front of him, thinking of the best possible approach. Threats wouldn't work, and passing the whole thing off as an hallucination had never been a successful tactic in the past. Best, then, to appeal to reason.
"Now, Spike, you're getting older, and so am I, and eventually you'll come to realize that-"
"Heard it. Don't care. That was an abomination unto Celestia's sun." That brought the mare up short.
"Oh, was it? Maybe you're right. It's probably for the best I put off dating for a while." She grinned brightly at the dragon, and drew real satisfaction when he stiffened up, obviously sensing the catch ahead. "It's up to the older sibling to set standards for the younger, of course. We'll set the dating age at... twenty-six, why not? That way, in just thirteen short years, you'll be able to pursue any pony that catches your eye. I'm sure any pretty mares out there would be perfectly happy to wait around until they're thirty-seven, for example. Just for example." Spike sagged against the improvised ropes.
"You're evil." That would have been insulting if the tone of the words hadn't been so sullen.
"I've fallen into bad company, I guess. Now go clean up and take the rest of the day off."
That managed to brighten Spike's mood just a fraction, and that was enough to set him to running around and clearing up the debris left by their little disagreement.
"Back by six!" he shouted on his way out the door. Quiet fell over the main room, and Twilight could feel the tension in the air settle. It had been a long day, and to top that, it wasn't even supper time, yet.
Instinct took over and led her hoof-first to one of the less-familiar shelves full of books that the Princess had helpfully provided as a house/library gift. Twilight had read a few of them already, of course, but 'Interpersonal, Interspecies' was still basically untouched compared to her much-loved magic theory manuals. Most of it was more about avoiding cultural mishaps, but a few, select chapters could prove useful.
'Chapter Four: Comparative Courtships'
Roll, flare the left wing, stabilize, and drop.
"Not bad for a guy who never graduated flight school," muttered Germane through a smile. The drop was fast, but controlled. Composed, even. He wasn't graceful by any means, but enjoyed the results of long, dedicated practice. Not bad for somebody who used to be, at the most charitable assessment, a couch potato.
Living long enough to qualify for a driver's license would have just spoiled him, he mused.
The tiny home in front of which he landed was a familiar and comforting sight. It was a modest place, but plenty nice enough for two occupants. Especially since one of them was still pint-sized herself.
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!" he called through a window.
"You did that one last time, Mister Craft!" came a tiny, excitable voice from inside.
"Um, what big eyes I have?" There was a giggle, and a flurry of steps before the front door opened.
"You're saying it wrong!" claimed the filly inside. She beamed up at him and danced in place. "Hurry up inside. I'm doing homework. Can you help?"
"Maybe," he allowed, letting the filly shut the door behind him. Dinky was well-mannered and a harsh little taskmistress. She watched fiercely until he'd wiped his hooves on the mat. After that little formality, though, she glomped onto his legs. "I'm here to see your mom, blueberry. Is she in?"
"Just getting out of the shower!" called a voice from up the narrow staircase. Dinky pointed.
"Just getting out of the shower," she parroted. "Did you bring me something?" Germane chuckled.
"Got you some candied pineapple." He grabbed a wax-paper packet from his bag and hoisted it over to the young pony, who grabbed it with her teeth.
"Fank 'oo!" Dinky wandered ahead to deposit it in the kitchen, and he followed at a much more leisurely pace. Right on time, a grey pegasus entered the room with a towel still wrapped around her mane. Her wings fluttered gently, moving in the instinctual 'drying-out' reflex. Slightly less entertaining than seeing an earth pony shake to dry off.
"Evening, Miss Doo. Miss Dinky was just being the most proper hostess, right now." The filly nodded frantically.
"I was, mom! I made him wipe his hooves." The mare smiled.
"That a girl." She looked to Germane. "What brings you here, Germane?" He gestured toward the bagged treats.
"Just spoiling your little filly rotten. And-" He threw up his chin and flared his wings dramatically. "I was just on a date. Cue applause."
"You were out with a mare!?" Dinky was staring in bug-eyed wonder, which Germane put off uneasily as just kids being kids, instead of some insult that was way too subtle for somebody her age. Probably.
"Yes, Dinky. Lunch with a pretty pony." He made an evil grin. "We kissed, too."
"Yuck!"
"Muffin, get back to your math, okay? I'll look it over in a bit." The filly left, or rather, retreated. Ditzy gave Germane an unimpressed look.
"Did you say you were spoiling or traumatizing her?"
"That's mean, Ditzy." He hummed. "You feeling okay? After the other night, I mean. None of that 'single mothers are made of steel'-stuff. Even if you totally are!" he added hastily. She huffed in amusement.
"I'm okay. If we're okay, I mean. Are we?" she asked nervously. Germane nodded sagely.
"No worries. I'm wooing our enemy." It took a moment for her to get his meaning, but when she did, it wasn't exactly subtle.
"You and Twilight Sparkle!?" The blond mare shook her head. "If I'd been flying, that would be a crash-worthy surprise. What about the other stuff?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure I've been volunteered for sciencey-things without my consent for the foreseeable future, but I think everything will be okay. We're solidly out of the red, at least." Not that he had any illusions that the last night wouldn't have long-lasting consequences, but things didn't feel out of control. Yet.
"That's good," replied Ditzy. Her wings sagged in relief. "I got sort of... bad, last night. Didn't I." It was a statement.
"Completely understandable. I think I was praying for a dragon raid for a moment, there, just to cut through the sheer awkward." The mailmare gave a laughing snort.
"I'd say something, but I think it might just give you ideas. Come on, my little muffin's waiting and I'm terrible at math."
"It's a hard life I lead," declared Germane, following her out of the room.
If nothing else, Twilight had picked up one of the most significant pieces of advice of her life from her big brother.
'Books can teach you most of anything, Twily, but those books have to be written, first. Someday, some little filly is going to learn a lesson from what you write.'
That had quickly been followed by a trip to the ice cream shop, and shortly thereafter she'd presented Shining Armor with an eight page essay comparing chocolate and strawberry sprinkles. He'd claimed it was the first (and possibly only) academic thesis he'd ever co-signed. Of course, the universities had been reluctant to accept academic material from a six year-old.
Stuffy academics standing in the way of scientific advancement, grumbled Twilight mentally.
That little bit of advice had led her here, to what she'd logicked-out as being the best available first-hoof source of information. Somepony with years of medical and social experience, a successful relationship, and a much longer length of, well, life than 'subject number one'.
She admitted to herself that her choice of pet names (was it too soon for that?) was a bit lacking.
The unicorn mare looked at Twilight. Twilight looked back hopefully. Nurse Redheart sighed.
"I'm just getting off my shift. If you want to talk, we'll be walking at the same time, understood?" Twilight nodded quickly as the nurse shucked her cap and shook out her mane.
"This way," said Redheart. Twilight followed her out of the clinic and into the slowly-emptying road. It wasn't exactly ideal for an interview, but she'd made do with worse. "What can I do for you, Twilight?" The younger unicorn summoned quill and paper and floated both ahead of herself.
"What can you tell me about human courtship rituals?" To Twilight's surprise, the other mare didn't look especially surprised herself. She smiled gently at the academic.
"I'm going to have to give the other half of this talk to our newest member tomorrow. I suppose this should serve as a warm-up." Later, Twilight would figure that Redheart had taken an especially scenic route home, for the sake of giving the topic more time. Before that, though, she was able to note four things:
One - Human courtship was mostly analogous to that of ponies'. Plus or minus a couple of social rituals which Germane probably didn't know about, which Redheart suggested Twilight share with him on her own time.
Two - Humans were squeamish about sex.
"That's more cultural than anything," added Redheart with a laugh. Twilight had laughed along, mostly at the idea that the odd and bold stallion was probably 'terrified of scaring you off, and half scared off himself, Twilight'. Then the nurse had given her a dragon-like stare and cautioned her not to hurt the humans' much-loved coordinator, under pain of pain.
"Yes, ma'am, I mean, not at all, ma'am!" The squeak in Twilight's voice seemed to placate the older mare.
And three - Marriage was a more common end result than the 'common-law' arrangement favored by most ponies wherever titles or property weren't involve. That was a personal matter, more or less, for the ex-humans.
Finally, four - Human fertility was vastly different than ponies'.
"You could say that most of us were 'happy accidents'," joked Redheart. "Many a courtship was heralded by a broken condom." Twilight flicked one ear in confusion.
"What's a condom?"