As a rule, the small apartment which I call my home is fairly quiet. I live alone, having moved out of my parents' house last year. I managed to find this little place and put a deposit down, and my work allows me to keep up with the rent fairly easily. I’ve never been one to go out and party, or drink, or really have much in the way of 'fun.' On the plus side though, I do have a healthier savings account than most.
But of course, there is always an exception that proves the rule, and tonight was to be that exception. Indeed, it would prove to be the exception to a number of rules, and even mess a little with my grip on reality.
It was around eight o'clock in the evening when it all happened. The local news had just finished going over the days latest list of things to complain about, and I had begun flicking through the channels. How is it that we've advanced so far as a species yet, with over one thousand television channels, there is still nothing worth watching? I had a couple of things to do for work anyway.
Giving up, I turned off the TV and went back, past the kitchen/dining room, to the small little room that passed for my home office. This was something of an inner sanctum to me. For one thing, it was one of the few places that was completely isolated from the rest of the apartment; for some reason, the architect had gone with this open plan design that mixed lounge, kitchen and dining room all into one, with only my bedroom, en suite, and office having doors. It might have been nice if you were entertaining, but to me, it always felt a little too open.
Walking into my office, I flicked the light switch on, bathing the room in a warm golden glow. It had taken no end of negotiations to get rid of that God-awful fluorescent monstrosity, but it was so much more pleasant now. I no longer felt as if I was some sad weirdo who sat at his computer all day long. And to be fair, I was working; there were a couple of reports that needed finishing up for tomorrow and I needed to scan a few things onto the computer too.
I settled down as the relatively new machine began to boot up. Ever since I installed that new anti-virus stuff it seems to have slowed right down. Still, it gave me a chance to settle in, adjusting the office swivel chair to get more comfortable. I span around a little, the office was far from bare.
On the desk was a fair amount of stationery, as well as a photo of my parents and I; typical office stuff really. But on the walls however, it was a different story. Directly in front of me was a fairly large window that let me look out to the city below, and filled the office with light in the daytime. On the right and left side walls though, there a couple of odd pictures; one of the main reasons why I never let guests into my office.
On the left was a rather striking picture of Princess Luna, something I’d picked up at a convention a year ago. There was a similar one next to it of her sister. But the one I was most proud of was a commission I’d had made; a very professional looking portrait of King Sombra. My bedroom was scattered with similar paraphernalia of MLP. I don’t say much about it, but it just happens to be one of my hobbies.
Eventually, the tired old contraption that I called my computer was up and running, and after a bit of effort, it managed to open Word. I settled in for a long stretch of work. I figured that by eleven I’d be done and could head to bed.
I hate to repeat myself, but I feel I must. My apartment was quiet. The only noise I usually heard was my own voice; for I frequently talk to myself, and perhaps the humming of the fridge and other appliances. I’m comfortable with quiet and I’ve never particularly liked loud noise. Perhaps that was why I was so suited to an office job that kept me sequestered in a cubicle for eight hours a day. So, as you can expect, when a sudden, loud noise erupted in the next room, I all but leapt out of my seat.
I wasn't sure what the sound was, but it was loud enough to make me cover my ears in pain. It is quite hard to describe precisely what it was; it wasn’t an explosion like a bomb going off, or something heavy toppling over. It was more like a high frequency sound, the sort of thing that makes dogs howl when they hear it. In any case, it left my ears ringing and caused my vision to swim.
The lights in my office flickered irritably at the commotion and my computer threw a brief tiff as it too flickered. Despite the shock, my first thought was the document I had been working on. Like an idiot, I hadn’t saved it in a while and hurriedly checked to see if it was all still there. Luckily it all was; no apparent harm had been done, apart from the screen flickering for a moment.
I sat there, immobile for several moments longer. In case it isn’t obvious to you, I am something of a coward. Not completely, but let’s face it, a loud, odd noise had gotten me completely panicked. I still had no idea what that noise was, but I was compelled to investigate. The more sensible part of my mind tried to calm me down, telling me that it was probably just something shorting out in the kitchen. A quick check of the fuse box and I’d be right as rain. Or it could be something had just fallen over, a sudden shock like that would explain the lights and my computer screen flickering.
On the other hand, though, the irrational part of my mind began to offer up any number of terrifying scenarios. What if something had blown up? What if the fridge or the TV, or maybe even the boiler had gone up? What if the apartment was already starting to catch? What would I do then? I'd lose everything, I'd have nowhere to go, I'd lose my job and have to move back in with my parents! I quickly tried to stamp out that nonsense. I have a tendency to always think the worst of a situation, at least that part of my mind does.
Hesitantly, I made my way toward the door that led back out into the hallway, and the main open plan area of my apartment. Whatever it was wouldn’t be that bad. There was no smoke coming from under the door, nor was there any heat, so I dismissed the idea of fire. I reaffirmed the idea that it was probably just a fuse or something and that once I’d taken a look to see that all was well, I could shake my head, chuckle to myself, and go back to work. Of course, none of those things happened.
Easing the door open, I peeked out into the still fully lit hallway. There was nothing wrong out here either. Walking out beyond the threshold, I ventured back towards the kitchen. Here everything was normal too. The same could be said for the lounge; the TV was still off, all the windows were shut, and a quick check of the fuse box told me that nothing had tripped out.
So, I was satisfied — or at least, my rational half was. Despite having proven that there was nothing amiss in my home, my irrational half insisted that the bedroom be checked as well. For what I had no idea, but if it would allow me to get back to work, I would happily oblige.
I reached for the handle on the door that led into my fairly large bedroom. The room was about a third of the size of the rest of my apartment, including the en suite bathroom, and was mainly stocked with books and a few other personal things, including some mint condition pony vinyl figures.
Like everything else in my life, these were all kept fairly neat and orderly. So, you can imagine my surprise when, upon entering my room, I found most of the books scattered all over the floor, some even slightly singed by some unknown heat.
Luckily, despite this turn of events, I didn’t fly into a full blown panic again. I was now curious as to what on earth caused this. Somehow I doubt a burglar would bother with any of my books, they’d go straight for the TV and games console in the other room. And that was to say nothing of the odd burn marks on some of the books, or how they’d become scattered everywhere.
I also saw that my bed had been disturbed somewhat. The sheets were ruffled as if someone had jumped on them, like a child might. This was even more fascinating. I had no logical explanation for it, but I did not think I was in any danger, so it was a puzzle to me; something to solve. Slowly, I began to put the various books back into their proper place and thanked whatever deity was up there that nothing had been damaged.
That was when I heard it; somewhere behind my bed I heard a faint groaning sound. My rational mind chose this point to go off on a little holiday, and left my irrational mind to hold the fort. Needless to say, my panic promptly returned.
"Ooh, son of a... That's the last time I trust Starswirlian resonance theory," a voice said. It was, in a way familiar; a soft, fairly pleasant accent that you might expect to hear in the southern United States. It certainly did not fit the mental image I had of a horrid demon which was out to kill me. For a moment, I relaxed until my visitor stood up.
From the opposite side of the bed, rose an equine; a pony. Around four and a half feet tall, it was certainly not a normal beast; for one thing it could talk. Well, there was only one explanation for this wasn’t there? Evidently, I’d been working far harder than I’d realised and my mind was starting to give up the ghost.
I decided that whatever I perceived was obviously not real and that I was either hallucinating or passed out in front of my computer.
Since then, I was in no immediate danger, I took a look at my unexpected arrival. He, for the voice was clearly male, was a unicorn, with a light grey coat and a deep blue mane and tail. On his head sat a Stetson hat, similar to the one Applejack wore, albeit a darker brown colour. Lastly, I noticed his cutie mark, confirming he was definitely an Equestrian pony, which was two crossed swords, one silver and the other gold.
Wait a minute! I know that pony! He was no canon character, but I knew him. He was my OC that I’d created a couple of years prior when I first got into the fandom. Still believing myself to be hallucinating, I called out.
"Blade Star?" The slate grey pony started and quickly turned around, his horn glowing ominously. I quickly did my best to appear non-threatening. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, friend." I held my hands up in a gesture of surrender.
For a moment, he remained hostile, but quite quickly his aggression was replaced with outright confusion. His horn stopped glowing, the dark blue aura dissipating and he regarded me curiously.
"Who are you?" he asked. "Wait, you're a human!" Unlike most OCs, mine had himself previously been a human, until he had found himself in Equestria transformed into the pony before me, which was where he came to take the name 'Blade Star.' Hesitantly, I lowered my hands before responding.
"Yes, I’m a human. Just keep calm. You are on Earth, in Portsmouth, the year is 2015." I paused to let that all sink in. Blade Star broke his gaze with me and looked around my room. Quite quickly, his large eyes found the window that overlooked the sea; you could just see the lights of the Warrior and the Admiralty building in the darkness.
"I'm... I'm back?" he asked, more to himself that to me. "But, that’s impossible, the rift was sealed and there ain’t no others." His brows shot up in alarm, whilst his ears pointed up. "More to the point, how the hay do I get back?" He turned around a full circle, examining the room before returning to focus on me. "Alright, tell me who you are an' how I got here.”
"My name is John Smith," I replied, still quite confused. Blade Star barked a short laugh, pushing his Stetson a little way back on his head with a hoof.
"Listen, feller. If'n ya want ta give me a fake name, at least try an' be a mite more imaginative."
"That is my real name though, honest," I replied, a little hurt. Blade Star merely grinned. My own OC was laughing at me! "As for how you got here, all I heard was a sudden noise and then there was an electrical surge. I came in here just now to find you out cold." The pony thought for a minute, examining the room.
"Well, there ain’t no burn marks or anything, so I guess it ought to be still open if it’s there. Now, let’s see. Ya said I landed over there, right?" He gestured to the far wall. I nodded.
Lighting his horn again, the pony fired a dark blue beam of magic at the far wall. The sudden move caught me off guard and I flinched. Looking over, I beheld a curious phenomenon. The wall itself was rippling, like a lake would when a stone was thrown on it. Blade Star kept this up for a moment longer before relenting, a smile across his features.
"All right, well, that’s one thing we don't have to worry 'bout. There's the rift I came in through. It ain't stable enough to travel through yet, but give it, say, a half hour and it should be alright. I hate to impose on ya like this, 'John Smith,' but do ya reckon I might hole up here a spell?"
For a moment, I was stunned. It was weird enough seeing my own fictional creation materialise in my bedroom and perform magic in the space of three minutes, but now I had the opportunity to talk with him. Quite quickly though, the fan within me piped up; this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to learn about magic. Genuine, actual, honest to God magic!
Plus... I could hardly kick him out now, could I?
"Sure, all right," I replied. "Come on through, Blade Star, and make yourself at home."
***
The two of us left my bedroom and went back into the main area of the apartment. The pony looked around with an air of what I was fairly sure was nostalgia. After all, it had been a good year or so since he had last seen Earth, or at least his version of it. Quite quickly, Blade Star settled himself on my sofa, sitting in a manner similar to a dog, with his forelegs tucked under him. He was actually quite canine in his behaviour, curiously looking around and sniffing the air as he went.
As for me, I was still reeling a little from the shock and had gone into a sort of autopilot — and the one thing I always do for guests is make tea. So, that was what I was doing; making tea for a fictional, magical, dimension jumping pony. My rational mind reminded me of the fact that this was more than likely some odd dream and that I ought to not take it all too seriously. As I put the kettle on to boil, I turned back to Blade Star, who had turned on the television and put the rolling news on.
"You want milk and sugar?" I asked. He promptly turned around.
"Sure, it’s been a hay of a long time since I've had a cup of those PG Tips," he replied. "You would be amazed how fast ya forget the little things like that." I smiled to myself. "Well, I figure I ought to count myself lucky I wound up with somepony who knows about all this stuff. I'd hate to think what would've happened if I'd ended up with somepony who thought I was an alien or somethin'." I poured the tea and left it to brew as I walked back over to the sofa.
"Lucky is right," I replied. "How did you end up here anyway?"
"Well, magic," he replied, chuckling to himself. "Sorry if this sounds a bit of a cliché, but I've been lookin' into a few spells here and there, a bit like that mirror Starswirl came up with. I figured maybe I could use one to open up a portal back to Earth. Just a way to talk, mind you, but I never figured the magic would jump me like that. Instead of carryin' a message, the darn thing carried me!"
"So can you get back?" I enquired.
Blade Star waved a hoof reassuringly. "Oh sure, ya see how that wall kind of fluctuated; the portal’s still there. I just need to let it stabilise again. When I get back I can fine tweak it maybe. With any luck I might even be able to get Twi on board, though I reckon she’s gonna be kinda ticked at me." His ears splayed briefly in concern. Suddenly though, they perked up again, standing on end and his whole form tensed up, ready for fight or flight, whilst his eyes narrowed. "Now hang on just an apple pickin' minute..."
"Er, what is it?" I asked, hoping that he wasn’t about to say what I thought he might.
"'Blade Star,'" he said calmly, standing up and backing me against the wall. "Ya called me 'Blade Star' when I woke up — but the thing is, friend, I don't recall ever givin' ya my name. So how the hay do ya know me?" He quickly set his horn aglow. I felt the magic tugging faintly at my shirt, a veiled threat. "Now I know for a fact I ain't ever been on the show, so how the hay do you know me?"
I began to sweat profusely. "Listen, I... er... well... it's complicated," I spluttered as I tried to think of a way out.
"Then make it uncomplicated," Blade Star retorted. It was at this moment I wished that I hadn't written him to be such a hothead at times. I couldn’t think of any explanation that would completely satisfy him, and I didn’t care to find out what spell he was currently powering. So, I told him the truth.
"You’re my OC; I created you." The magic that was tugging at me dropped off and his horn stopped glowing menacingly. The look on his face, unsurprisingly, was one of total disbelief.
"Horseapples!" he shouted. "I created this pony form an' woke up like it when I wound up in Equestria!"
"No, I created you. Your name is Blade Star, you were originally born in England in 1994." Blade Star snorted, obviously not believing me. "Your father's name is Roger, your mother’s name is Margaret, and you have a little sister called Elisabeth."
"Yeah, but everypony calls her..."
"Lizzie." That got him thinking. He was now thrown completely for a loop. Sitting down on his haunches, he pushed his Stetson back and rubbed his forehead with a hoof.
"Alright, John Smith. Ya have almost convinced me, but just answer me this: what happened in Canterlot, with the Angel? If ya created me, then ya ought to know what I'm talkin' about." I sighed before replying; I didn’t like how I’d been forced to pretty much pull the rug out from under his hooves.
"Chrysalis," I said. Blade Star's eyes went wide.
***
The two of us sat on the sofa, neither of us not quite sure what to say next. Having offered sufficient proof that I was his creator, Blade Star had gone noticeably quiet. I too, was at something of a loss. What the hell do you say to a fictional character you created that is suddenly brought to life? I looked down into my now lukewarm cup of tea.
"This is pretty weird, isn’t it?" I offered. Blade Star snorted a little and cracked a wry smile.
"Nah, this is hilarious." he promptly burst out into hollow laughter for a few moments before continuing. "I mean, I created this character myself when I got into this whole pony thing. And now I find out that you created me. It’s all... oh, what was that film?"
"Inception?"
He nodded, still half-heartedly chuckling. "Yeah, that’s the one. Damn, it’s been ages since I saw that." Silence quickly returned. I attempted to broach the inevitable topic.
"So, what are you going to do now then?" Blade Star put a hoof to his chin in thought.
"Well, I s'pose when that portal is safe to use, I'll head on back. For one thing, this ain’t the place I was lookin' for. This might be Earth, but it ain't my Earth. There, I'm just as real as you are.”
"Doesn't it freak you out though?" I asked, curious. "Finding out you're a fictional character?" He did seem to be taking the whole situation remarkably well.
"Well, it's all the multiverse theory, ain't it? Every single possibility exists out there somewhere. There's a universe after all where Equestria is reality and at least one where it’s fictional. So, by that logic, there was bound to be a reality when I'm fictional, or a girl, or dead. Hay, there's a universe out there where this is all just words on a page." That was food for thought and, apparently, he thought so too. "Shoot, that’s messin' with my head."
"Look, I knew I was in a reality that I saw as fictional when I arrived in Equestria. I even wound up tellin' a few ponies 'bout it. Now I guess I know how they felt." He took another sip of his tea, holding the mug in his magic. Scowling at the cold liquid, he briefly cast a spell which – if the fresh steam rising from the mug was anything to go by – reheated it.
"I never thought I'd see that you know," I commented. "I suppose you know a fair bit about magic." Blade Star nodded.
"My fair share I s'pose. My tutor always said I was a little above the average, but I ain’t no magical prodigy."
"I know that," I replied. "After all, I was the one who made you that way. Right down to your inability to do any transformation spells or long range teleports."
"Thing is, though," I went on. "I wrote a few general things about magic, but I don’t really know much about it. The intricacies and such, all I wrote about was the effects."
Blade Star gave me a knowing look with the ghost of a smile. "Well, I reckon I've still got twenty minutes left before I can try again," he said. "So ask away."
***
And so, I took an advantage of a prime opportunity and began to ask every single question I could think of. What did magic feel like to use? Was it taxing like physical exertion was, or was it something completely different? How did you 'shape' magic into particular spells? Basically, in a move I am a little embarrassed by, I asked him every single question that came into my head in a maddening stream of consciousness.
Luckily, Blade Star seemed to be fairly understanding. After all, I’d made him have a similar reaction when he had first begun to use magic. Obviously, most of what I was asking was relatively basic in terms of the larger scheme of things. I still have no clue what a 'mana conversion rate' is, or how Meadowbrook's self-cascading energy loop allows for the conservation of magical energy in high tier spells. I did, however, learn a few of the basics, such as the relationship between the magic found in cutie marks and a unicorn’s own actual magic.
I also quizzed the pony on what he knew of dark magic. The pair of us had a common interest in the subject — although Blade Star cautioned me on taking it all too seriously, warning me of how even a skilled practitioner can easily begin to lose themselves.
I even asked him about the idea of teleportation. In an amazing feat, even though I had seen and heard about it many times before, Blade Star performed a number of short range teleports. With a flash of light and a curious pop sound, he moved from the sofa, to the kitchen, onto the dining table, out into the hallway outside my apartment (although, thankfully, nobody was passing by at that particular moment) and finally back to where he had started, next to me on the sofa.
Having furnished me with a fair amount of canon knowledge on the subject of magic, Blade Star asked that I reciprocate his gesture and tell him what had been happening on Earth in his absence. We both assumed that given how similar the worlds we knew were, it was more than likely that both shared common major events.
I told him about what had been happening in the Middle East and in Ukraine, as well as a few other hot spots that had sprung up. I gave him a bit of news about the fandom and the latest issues with Hasbro — and I even showed him my new PS4, the release of which he had missed and we both had a go playing the new version of 'The Last of Us,' occasionally pausing to refill on tea and biscuits.
Most importantly of all, though, I dug out my iPhone from my office and took a couple of pictures. If this was real, I would prefer to have a few shreds of somewhat credible evidence — if only to preserve my own sanity. I didn’t plan on telling anyone about this, because even with photos I doubt they would believe me, but it would be proof enough to me if I ever doubted my own memories.
But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. A little way past half eleven, Blade Star decided that the portal he had inadvertently created would at last be stable enough for him to use. And whilst it had been fun to meet and talk with him, this was not his world; he had quite a life in Equestria to get back to.
Heading back into the bedroom where I had first found him, he fired another beam at the far wall. This time however, instead of merely rippling as it had done previously, the wall almost seemed to vanish. The best description I can give is that it was something along the lines of a stargate; a strange, water like void. Only this one was coming out of my bedroom wall. Blade Star performed a few quick checks to ensure all was well before he prepared to leave. Standing on the precipice, he turned to me.
"Well, John, this is me. I hate to leave ya so fast, but I don't know for sure how long this thing is gonna hold for."
I nodded. "Quite understandable, I don’t think either of us could cope with you being stuck here permanently. But if you ever do anything more with this portal idea, feel free to drop by again." Unlikely, but hey, anything is possible. "What are you going to tell everyone... sorry, everypony?"
"Well, Twi knows about my little experiment, so she'll probably want to make sure it’s all sealed up. Much as I'd like to have an open doorway, it's one heck of a risk." That was true, I suppose. "But who knows, if this idea of just communicatin' works out, I might be able to get one here for a while."
"In any case then, I’ll see you around, Blade Star."
With that, the cowpony tipped his hat and stepped through the portal. There was nowhere near as much as a commotion as his arrival, though I can’t say what happened on the other side. After he stepped through, the phenomenon seemed to collapse in on itself and after a few moments all that remained was the solid wall that was usually there.
***
I didn't get much sleep that night. It was almost midnight when Blade Star departed, and given the situation, I was still quite excited and found sleep a difficult thing to accomplish. I finally fell asleep on my sofa while watching late night television.
Waking up the next morning was unpleasant to say the least. I’d only gotten about five hours of kip, and sleeping on the sofa caused my body to feel stiff. I didn’t have much time before I had to be at work. After wolfing down my breakfast, I hurried to the office, just about clocking in at nine on the dot.
I remembered the previous night fairly clearly; far more clearly than any normal dream. Even after all this time, my mind still entertained the notion that I had inadvertently fallen asleep in front of the television, and that everything beyond that; working in my office, hearing the strange noise and then finding Blade Star, was all a vivid dream. As a result of the conflict, I was fairly distracted and found work difficult. It wasn’t until my lunch break that I fished out my phone and checked the photos, a detail I had only remembered just then.
And there it was; a picture of me and a fictional, magical, talking unicorn. That was empirical evidence and, to my mind, put any question of last night’s events beyond reasonable doubt. I had met my own OC. I'm not really sure what else there is to say. I didn't tell anyone, I'd probably end up in the loony bin; anyone could simply argue my 'proof' was just very good Photoshop work. So, I kept it to myself. But I haven’t forgotten.
And who knows?
Perhaps someday I'll see my creation brought to life again.