“HOW ARE YOU SPEAKING ENGLISH?!”
The pony’s eyes widened, reeling back in shock. I guessed it didn’t expect me to speak their language any more than I was expecting to understand theirs.
“TWILIGHT!!!!”
The golden-brown pony ran screaming into the open air outside, sharply curving left at the barn door’s exit.
It wasn’t long before a different pony’s face crept into the barn’s doorway.
It looked at me.
I didn’t even have time to see what it looked like before it ducked back out of sight.
I called out. “You don’t have to be scared of m…..”
The sound disappeared from the air, nothing but silence dominating the poorly lit barn.
I didn’t know what the hell was happening, and I didn’t want to know. My scientific explanation was binaural damage secondary to post concussive injury. In English, I went deaf from my concussion. It seemed a plausible enough theory to me.
Except for the unicorn that now crept toward me. This was most likely the Twilight character that Ms. Kickme Cowboy (I still call her that nickname; she still kicks my ass) was talking about.
It cautiously entered the barn, staring me down like I was a serial murderer.
Out of all of humanity, I am the only one who can say I was damn near scared to death by a unicorn.
In that one second that I was aware of it, and it was aware of me, I prayed to a thousand gods from a hundred civilizations that the stories and myths of unicorns was true- that they were noble creatures who were pure of heart.
The biggest problem I had with that theory, though, was that this particular purple one looked positively pissed off. I eventually lost the staring contest, my eyes blinking in succession to try and dispel this all too real figment that would not go away.
It was making me uncomfortable. Besides the fact that I was trussed up in ropes, I really did not like the way it seemed to pierce into my soul with its mind-melting laser vision.
I tried to speak to it, to say hello, to introduce myself, but still I heard nothing. I saw the unicorn’s horn glow with light, later discovering that this was a telltale indication of magic being used.
That’s right.
Magic.
It’s not much more complicated than quantum physics. Hell, I know a few of the simpler spells now.
But yes, I was in a barn, where a unicorn was casting magic spells on me.
The sounds of the air eventually returned, accompanied by a slowly rising crescendo of a high pitched electronic whine. The noise eventually stopped, but it did little to assuage my nerves. Something was terribly, horribly wrong.
Within seconds, the acrid smell of burning electronics overpowered my nostrils. I glanced over at my probe, but I didn’t see anything unusual that would indicate an electrical malfunction.
Then it hit me.
My equalizer…the key to going home…it felt strangely warm in my pocket. Something must have overloaded the circuits.
The unicorn broke its silence, covering its own muzzle with a hoof. “What’s that awful smell?” The voice was unmistakably female.
“Oh, that’s nothing. It just means I lost MY ONLY WAY OF GETTING HOME NOW!”
I regretted my overreaction almost immediately. The Twilight unicorn recoiled slightly, but still seemed determined in its visual showdown with me.
She let out a sigh. “My friends and I really don’t know what you are or where you come from. But if you keep yelling, you’ll stay tied up even longer. Now I have some questions, and you’ll give answers. If you try any magic tricks, or lie to me, I know some pretty good ways of dealing with you. Don’t. Test. Me.”
Her eyes stayed locked on mine until she pulled out a book from what appeared to be thin air. A feather dipped into a vial of ink also popped into existence. With the quill floating in midair, one end dipped into the ink, and it leaped with tiny flourishes across the book's pages. Scribbles could be heard from where she stood about twenty feet away.
“The other horse implied that you were the Twilight.” I tried to find any reaction to me calling what I thought was her name. She stayed focused on the book. I swore she must have been smiling.
“Twilight Sparkle. Please just call me Twilight.”
“All right. I’m Silas. Silas Hunter.”
“You speak Equestrian with no accent. What part of the world are you from?”
“I’m from….the South.”
“Okay.” A few more notes scribbled themselves down. “What kind of thing do you call yourself or others like you?” I saw no reason with being dishonest.
“I’m a human being.”
I heard her laugh. It was a weird, snorting chortle. I could never duplicate that sound in a thousand years if I tried.
“What’s so funny about that?” She still hadn’t really gained her composure. It took her a little while before she could really answer.
“Well, you can’t possibly be a human being. Humans are nothing more than mythological creatures from pony history and bedtime stories cooked up to scare little foals. Humans aren’t scientifically possible…you aren’t scientifically possible!” She smiled a little, pointing a (manicured?) hoof at me and seeming smugly satisfied.
“Here I am. In the flesh. You know, where I come from, unicorns aren’t real…I thought they were make believe, too.”
She shot me a disbelieving glance. I had the nagging feeling that I might have offended her. But by this point I was on the verge of tears, in pain, and fearful that I would never see the Earth I knew again.
“I have no reason to lie to you, Twilight. I believe in you. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know, prove I’m a human…everything. All I ask is that you believe in me. And please, please untie me.”
I don’t think I convinced her. Sparkle pony called for Applejack. I remember thinking that these creatures had some weird ass names, but my name probably sounded foreign to them, too. The apple cowpony came in, settling beside Twilight and giving me the same stares Twilight had assaulted me with earlier.
“I heard you talking to Twilight about yer name. So what kinda hunter are you, again?”
“I don’t hunt anything. My family name is Hunter. My personal name is Silas.”
“Well, howdy, Silos. You sure gave me ‘n my kin a fright with your doohickiethangywat over yonder.” She pointed at my probe.
“It’s Silas.”
“And, uh, plum sorry ‘bout the knock on your noggin.” She raised her hoof, pointing it at her own head. “No hard feelin’s?”
“Not really, but can you let me loose? The ropes are beginning to chafe, and I’m a little thirsty.”
“Before I untie ya, I gotta know somethin’. Do ya eat ponies?” She glared menacingly at me, one eye half-closed in a pseudo squint.
A four foot pony was giving me the stink eye.
I let out a sigh. “No, I don’t eat ponies. I eat fried potatoes, burgers, and spaghetti.”
She glanced over at Twilight, who nodded in silent approval. The pony tugged on the ropes on my hands, and then my torso. Soon my whole body was free from restraint. Applejack still stood close to me, her stance guarded.
“Ya harm a hair on anypony,” Applejack growled under her breath, “and you’ll learn just how fast I can make a noose.”
The color drained from my face as I nodded, indicated my understanding.
“Good!” Applejack smiled at me, a deep, genuine smile. “Welcome to Ponyville!”