Dear Journal,
When I asked Luna if there was a way to show ponies what I saw today better than just talking about it, she gave me this. It’s a memory spell, set into the crystal. I tried it, so I know it works. It’s… really weird, but I think it would be weirder if I wasn’t already me. Make sure you’re sitting, and touch your head to the crystal… Oh, and if you’re human, don’t do it. It’ll melt your brain. Thaumic radiation. Whatever, yeah.
So I won’t write any of it, not right now. Kinda overwhelmed. Heading back home tomorrow morning.
—Lonely Day
* * *
You’re nervous, more so than you can remember. This is really saying something, since in the last few weeks you’ve watched your home burn down, met with a group of magic-sapping armored humans, lost your body, and traveled to another universe. Being nervous (terrified really) has been generally true of your life since the Event that took everything away.
At least that nice unicorn gave you a dress to wear, elegant yet functional fabric in a lower layer of light cloth and a coat of similar design (but no real leather this time). The manecut helps too, since without careful straightening and styling it gets frizzy and disgusting in the humidity.
Of course, you hate when your mane is this long, but the lovely mares doing the styling refused to hear of trimming it. “It really brings out your eyes,” they said. “But you look so mature,” they said. You didn’t have the heart to argue with them, probably because you were overwhelmed then too.
You’ve been overwhelmed during your entire trip to Equestria, and a trip to Canterlot Castle has not made that easier. Towering marble rises all around you, and slip-on horseshoes click lightly with every step. Your tail is slightly less annoying than usual when it’s braided like this. You will probably keep it this way if you still have one when this conversation is over.
Your guide in Equestria, the bright yellow mare named Sunset Shimmer, is beside you, leading a path through the labyrinthine halls she obviously knows. “The stairs are the worst,” you hear her say. “I think maybe Princess Luna made her tower so tall to discourage ponies who weren’t really serious about meeting her.”
There are a great deal of stairs, and ponies don’t make them nearly so tall as humans do. It means many more steps to climb the same distance. “Could you do that thing again?” you ask, not sure of the word. “Where we just appear somewhere? That seems easier than climbing.”
You aren’t out of breath, though. You just offer out of politeness, since you can already hear her getting out of breath. It really wasn’t Joseph’s fault; even a pony born on four hooves is a wimp compared to you.
You’d still take the horn if you could, but you doubt that will come up. To your immense surprise, you haven’t seen any trace of unhappiness with one’s species here in Equestria. The earth ponies seem just as adapted to their role among the sweat and the plants as the pegasi are to soaring through the skies and the unicorns are to their magic.
You’d think it was something in the water if you hadn’t been drinking the water every day you’d been here.
“No, it’s not… a big deal,” she says, trying not to sound out of breath. She doesn’t do a very good job.
You get to the top, and Sunset stops at the door. “I’ll be waiting out here,” she says. “I think you’ll like the princess. She knows what it’s like to struggle.” You didn’t really understand the story when Sunset Shimmer had told it. Something to do with nighttime not being cool enough? It hadn’t made sense, like lots of things.
Even so, you take a step closer to the mare, ears flattening involuntarily to your head. You don’t want to say so, but you don’t like the idea of being away from her. She’s been your guide for a week now, always within reach to answer your questions and make the fear go away. It’s probably something to do with being younger. At least you’re not a foal. Could’ve been worse. “You can’t come with?”
She pats you on the head, and you feel more relaxed. “Sorry Day. It’s got to be just you. I’ll wait out here, ‘kay? I’ll be right here no matter how long it takes.”
You force a smile, then walk past her. You see a pair of huge ebony doors, carved with intricate representations of the stars and planets. Beyond them is a Princess of Equestria, a being so powerful she can move celestial objects with a thought. Beyond them is the reason humanity vanished. Maybe the mare inside can make everything right again. You intend to ask.
As if the door can sense your intention to use it, the wood begins to quiver, opening inward into a darkened room. You hurry inside, mostly because you’re afraid you’ll give up and turn around if you don’t.
The doors slide closed behind you with an ominous clicking sound, plunging you into the darkness of the room. Pony eyes haven’t gotten better in the dark as you got more used to it.
This time things are different, though. As you look up, you see a thousand swirling lights. The shapes resolve into a spiral galaxy, its arms elongating and seeming to fill your vision completely. You see millions, billions of stars, and the light from no two are quite alike. It comes with sound too, each star putting off a roar of radio that’s been shifted into your audible range. Beset by so many, it’s almost like the crashing of the waves.
You manage not to fall over, but only just. Your perception of time returns as you realize the room wasn’t quite so dark as you thought. The stars far above you in the vaulted ceiling provide a curtain of light that makes everything on floor level very clear. There is a pony standing there, a pony unlike any you have ever seen before. Your first glance almost tricked you into thinking she was part of the light show above you, because her mane looks like a swathe of the night sky, waving silently in an unseen wind.
“Welcome, my little pony.” She’s closer than you first thought, only a few meters away. You remember what Sunset told you and drop into a hasty bow. You nearly fall over in the attempt because you’ve only been a pony for three months and you still have the coordination of a blue whale writing calligraphy. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet one of you in person.”
Princess Luna returns the bow, though much shallower. You take this as a sign to rise, which is good, since you would probably fall on your butt otherwise. Then, to your great surprise, she extends a hoof to shake. You’ve seen ponies do this during your week in Equestria, but you never expected anything like it from royalty. You touch hoofs gently, afraid anything more might shock you with magical energy, or at the very least be a disgusting faux pas.
She giggles delicately. “What name would you prefer I use? Sunset tells me you’ve been using ‘Lonely Day’ while in Equestria, correct?”
You nod.
“An unfortunate choice. Let us pray it isn’t prophetic.” She looks you up and down, her gaze intent. You can’t meet those eyes, not even for a second. At once, you become a believer in the stories you’ve heard about her age; there’s a weight and weariness that would take you thousands of miserable years to acquire. “Or would it be more appropriate to use your true name, Alexander Haggard?”
Her words trigger a sudden cascade of emotions actually strong enough to drop you to your knees. Maybe before losing a few years you would’ve had the will to force back the rogue emotions; no longer. Anger, fear, and shame all flash through in an instant, followed by the cold grip of something more powerful than them all. The cold grip of self-loathing, deeper than any other feeling in your soul. “H-How?” you manage to squeak. “I never even told that name to Sky.”
The princess looks down on you with big, expressionless eyes. “Why not?”
No answer is forthcoming, though you consider your reasoning for some time. Eventually you stammer out an unsatisfying, “I guess I thought it was easier to heal from something if I wasn’t constantly reminded it was missing. My friend Moriah… she used to complain about it constantly, and she was always unhappy. I guess I thought if I just tried to keep living the same-” Your voice catches in your chest. You didn’t come here to talk about your pain. Not specifically, anyway. You couldn’t care less about all the cruelties the transformation inflicted on you so long as your fellow humans can be restored.
You feel the brush of wings on your shoulders in a brief, light hug. You’ve never felt wings quite like those before. It’s enough to still the tears you hadn’t even felt you were crying until then. “In fairness, I return an answer for yours: I’ve seen your dreams. All beings with soul enough to dream, dream together. The vastness of space and all eternity between us might blur and distort those images, but you have not been so far away since your arrival.” She turns away, walking towards a low table by the wall. You can see several objects resting there, though it’s hard to make them out through your tears. “Even had I not been told, I would have known one of you had come. I watched you very closely, even though you did not know it. I've been watching you and every other pony from your world.” She chuckles, though there is more bitterness there than humor. "With as few of you as were left behind, it has not been difficult."
She turns to face you again, and you see a flash of guilt in those huge eyes. “That is why it has taken this long; we had to be absolutely certain you among all others were fit to act as emissary for us. It would have been better to leave your people ignorant than to give our knowledge to one who might abuse it.”
“Am I the one?”
Luna answers by levitating one of the objects across the room towards you, setting it on the ground at your hooves. You see it now; saddlebags. They look far better than anything you could’ve made, with a stylized sun on one side and the moon on the other. You move to open it, but find one of Luna’s hooves on your own, preventing you. “Wait! You must hear first, or you will not understand.” She gestures at the center of the room, below the spiraling map of a galaxy.
“Your people are owed an explanation.” She gestures at the saddlebags again. “In there we have written the truth in great detail. This will serve your people well, but not so well as one who may hear and inquire as the truth is presented to you. We have already learned that, however similar, humans are not ponies. You do not think quite the same way we do, and an answer that might satisfy ponies might leave your species frustrated for the rest of time.”
You nod in complete agreement and follow her below the map of the galaxy. As curious as you are about what the strange saddlebags might be (sized too big for your age!), you care even more about how to reverse the change to humanity. With luck, all the magical knowledge ponies ever learned would be useless to humanity anyway, since they are all about to lose their horns and wings.
“When I have finished, feel free to ask whatever questions you may have. I ask that you hold them for the time being, since I expect a complete understanding will eliminate most of them.”
You nod, that gesture like many others seeming to cross between species.
“Very well.” The map begins to shift, zooming towards the center of the galaxy. “Let us begin with magic.”