//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8: Good Grief... 
// Story: A Man out of Place 
// by Thanatoaster 
//------------------------------//

An expression of subtle surprise formed on Celestia's features, replaced by recognition, then gratitude.

"I offer my sincerest and most heartfelt thanks to thee, young human," she said to me, "May thine oath, freely offered and gratefully accepted, never bring thee misfortune."

We nodded and let go of each other's hands, and the moment passed.

"Well, I guess that's that," I announced, but something was nagging at me. I furrowed my brow. "Wait..."

Thee... singular in Old English, with you being plural... Early Modern English mimics French "tu" and "vous"... both thee and you become singular... used to distinguish between social classes, conversations between inferior and superior, with thee being...

"Oh, motherf-- Foreigner," I scowled, nearly breaking my self-imposed rule about swearing in front of the ponies.

"Hm?" Celestia tilted her head.

"I was using 'thee' when I should have been using 'you'," I grimaced, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Of course I was. I try to make something meaningful, I put effort into it, and of course, of course I end up sounding like a pretentious idiot." By this point I was in full-on rant mode, gesturing angrily into the air as I berated myself. "That's practically a metaphor for my whole life, right there. I mean, I read all this Shakespeare and the first time I try to use Early Modern English in a situation, I screw it up! The first freaking time! I'm like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football, except I trip over my own feet before I get anywhere close enough for Lucy to yank the ball away like she always will! I'm such a blockhead that..."

I went on for a few moments more before I was interrupted by the sound of someone politely clearing their throat. I looked back at Celestia again. She sat with her chin resting on the heel of her hand, smiling patiently.

"Did you get it all out?" she asked calmly. "Need to keep going?"

"Um. Yeah," I mumbled. "I think I'm okay now." I shook my head and let out a sigh. "Listen, I understand that we're... friends... now, but still, I shouldn't have ignored the difference between our statuses like that. I guess maybe it's because 'thou' isn't really used anymore, and my country's never really had a 'noble' class anyways, so..." I shook my head. "Whatever the reason, I'm sorry."

"Hmm... No," Celestia said simply.

"Uh. What?" I blurted, surprised.

"No, I don't accept your apology," Celestia explained. "I won't even acknowledge it. Do you know why?"

"...No?" I answered weakly.

"Because it is unnecessary," she stressed. "Because in my eyes, you weren't making a promise to a Princess of Equestria, or to the Alicorn of the Sun, but to me. I believe that on some level, despite your reservations, you truly do see me as a friend, and were only speaking as such."

Celestia folded her hands in her lap with a graceful smile. "And I could never fault a friend for that."

"Oh..." I mumbled lamely. I didn't trust myself to respond any other way.

As she was speaking, it dawned on me that my choice of words was most likely influenced by my upbringing. My mother is agnostic, but picked up some things from growing up in a Jewish neighborhood, which later rubbed off on me. However, my... other parent's family was almost entirely Catholic. In fact, my first exposure to Early Modern English as a kid was in a King James Bible.

Aye, there's the rub. See, in the King James Bible, "Thou" is used to address God; something that is supposed to be both polite and intimate at the same time. Without thinking, I had fallen back on what I used to believe was the proper way to address a being greater than one's own understanding-- I had spoken as I would to a goddess.

But for a reason I wasn't quite sure of, I couldn't let Celestia know that. Was it because I feared the displeasure of some god-being? Was it because I was wary of her as a sovereign ruler?

No, I realized. If I told Celestia that what she thinks was a gesture of friendship was actually a leftover from that part of my life, it'd make her feel terrible.

I remembered how she reacted to my "goddess" accusation. I couldn't put her through that again, whether it was true or not.

...In which case, maybe I did see her as a friend after all.

"A bit for your thoughts?" Celestia ventured, breaking me from my internal monologue.

"Huh?" I said ever-so-intelligently, "Oh, it's nothing. Just, uh, thinking about lunch. Or dinner, I guess, because, y'know... Yeah."

Have I mentioned how good my poker face is? Better than any other human's in Equestria.

Hardy-har.

Celestia was kind enough to pretend to have bought my act, and took my words at face value. "It is getting to be about that time," she nodded. "I'll have your dinner arrangements sent to your room. And while I'm thinking of it, do you think you could do me a small favor?" At my nod, she continued. "Twilight and Spike are most likely going to be eating here with you. Do you think you could see to it that Twilight eats properly? She has a habit of skipping meals when she's focusing on a major project."

I winced. "Nasty habit to fall into," I said from experience. Missed meals were one of the main reasons I ended up almost looking like Christian Bale in The Machinist. "I'll see what I can do."

"Wonderful. Thank you." Celestia leaned towards me conspiratorially. "And for the record, I never much cared for the way Old High Equestrian began using different pronouns between social classes. In fact, I was one of the first ponies to begin using 'you' exclusively."

I snorted. "Y'know, if it were anyone else who said that I'd call shenanigans, but it makes sense coming from you since you're so ol--" Mayday, Mayday, Mayday! Abandon ship! "ol-or-r-royal?" I stammered through a string of phonetic syllables to change "old" into something a little less insulting.

Not even my legendary poker face could save me that time, but I gave it the old college dropout try. Apparently Celestia's limit was one freebie a day though, because by the level look on her face, she was having none of my antics.

"... I'm going to pay for that. Aren't I?"

At that Celestia smiled again, and although it looked no different from her other smiles on the surface, I suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Meep."

Celestia nodded, satisfied with my reaction. "Well, this has certainly been an interesting conversation," she said, rising, "but once again I must return to my duties. Before that though..." Celestia gave the bed's call button a quick telekinetic press, and Dr. Panacea returned.

The doctor gave my vitals a quick glance as soon as she entered the room, then turned her attention to the Princess and I. "Well," she began, "I take it everything is cleared up between you two?"

"For the most part," Celestia responded. "Our young friend had something to say to you as well, though."

"Oh?" Dr. Panacea focused on me.

"While you two talk, I'll step outside and give Twilight the news," Celestia announced. "Oh, and Jack?" She fixed me with a sly, worrying smile. "I'll hold off on your punishment... at least until the good doctor has released you." With that mild threat, she turned and headed for the door. "Goodbye for now, you two," she called over her shoulder.

When she was gone, I leaned toward the doctor, still glancing at the door. "Uh, what exactly is Celestia's usual definition of 'punishment'?"

"I suppose it depends on the seriousness of the misdeed," Dr. Panacea mused. "Why? What happened?"

I scratched my ear nervously. "Well, I might have... maybe called her old... a couple times..."

The doctor's gaze at that was not encouraging. "Oh, my."

That's not a good response. "Okay, on a scale of one to Bender Rodriguez harmonizing with himself, with one being the lowest, how doomed am I?"

"Don't worry," Dr. Pan patted my shoulder with a smile, "I'll be sure to speak kindly at your funeral."

"Ooooohh good."

Dr. Pan chuckled. "Oh, hush. I'm only kidding, of course," she assured. "Not many know this, but Her Majesty is an incorrigible prankstress. My advice? Just let her have her fun. Keep a thick skin and a strong sense of humor, and you'll be fine. Now, what did you want to discuss?"

"Right, uh..." I paused a moment, deciding where to begin. "Remember earlier when you asked me if I was feeling alright? Y'know, mentally?" At her nod, I continued. "I realized I was kind of a jerk to you about it. The thing is, there actually was something going on with my head. There still is, sort of. I guess I was, I dunno... afraid to admit it, and I ended up snapping at you trying to deny it."

I was secretly furious at myself over that. I had known better than to take my frustrations out on others. I had known better than to lash out at the people trying to help me. No matter what I was going through, I had no right whatsoever to behave like that. That isn't the person I want to be, and even if the doctor forgave me, it would be a while before I could forgive myself.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry, Dr. Pan."

"Apology accepted, young man." She gave a warm smile, which I returned.

"Right," I concluded after a moment, "well, um... that was it, I guess. So... what now?"

"Now," she began as the door opened, "... Now I believe it's time for you to greet your dinner guests."

We turned our attention to Twilight and Spike as they entered the room. Twilight had shed her winter gear in favor of slacks and a purple sweater vest, reinforcing the 'nerd girl' image. On her right arm was a band of purple fabric, her cutie mark represented by a six-pointed star of deep purple and outlined with silver embroidery.

Spike still wore the sweater from earlier-- or so I assumed. It was hard to see him behind the enormous stack of books and papers in his arms. I was a bit surprised that he was able to manage them all, but he balanced the pile as though it were something he had done a hundred times before. He didn't appear to have an armband; either he was too young for one, or it was a pony-only tradition.

"Has Celestia left already?" Dr. Pan asked them, noting the absent alicorn.

"The Princess had a meeting with the Railway Committee, so she couldn't stay," Twilight answered while Spike attempted to transfer the load in his arms to a nearby table. "But, she did tell me to ask you something, Mr. Chambers."

"Yeah, but it was kinda weird, though," Spike commented, dusting off his hands. "I mean, why would Princess Celestia want to know if you like bananas?"

Dr. Panacea gave a short, almost unladylike laugh. We all looked at her, confused. "Oh, dear me. I'm sorry, that's something of an inside joke. Though it's... likely for the best if you don't answer."

I eyed her with mild worry. "Wow, that is... Hey Twilight, what's the opposite of 'reassuring'?"

"Upsetting?" she answered immediately. "Unnerving? Troubling? Dissuading? Depressing? Disheartening? Discouraging? Dispiritin--"

"Yeah, that," I cut her off.

"Pay it no mind," the doctor replied, checking her watch. "Well, I have rounds to make and paperwork to finish, so this is where I'll take my leave. Good evening, you three."

After a "Goodbye, Doctor" from Twilight, and a "Bye" from Spike and I, Dr. Panacea left the room.

With just the three of us remaining, I looked to Twilight, waiting for her to direct the conversation. She fidgeted nervously and kept trying to straighten a lock of her hair. Every so often, she looked ready to say something, but no words came. Spike rolled his eyes at her and went to organize the pile on the table.

Since it didn't look like Twilight was going to speak up, I decided to take charge. "So, correct me if I'm wrong," I started, "but I've got this... hunch that you've been beating yourself up over what happened."

"Um... well... yes. A little," Twilight admitted, ears splayed back. Without looking, she used her magic to pull a particularly large scroll from near the bottom of the pile Spike was working on.

"More like a lot," Spike muttered, then yelped in surprise and scrambled to keep the suddenly unstable mound of paper and writing supplies from tumbling to the floor.

"In fact, sir," Twilight stated as she opened the scroll, which unraveled until it hit the floor and rolled under my bed, "I've dictated an apology to Spike, then read over the first draft for spelling and grammatical errors--"

"Uh, Twilight?" I tried to say.

"--then re-read it to make sure that every topic of the apology was in the proper order--"

"Twilight."

"--then re-re-read it to check if the apologetic tone was consistent, then--"

"Hey Twilight!"

"Eep!" Twilight jumped slightly. I hadn't really shouted, but I had raised my voice a bit in exasperation. Spike giggled as quietly as he could behind Twilight's back.

"Look," I told her, "I get that you didn't mean for what happened to happen, and the fact that you put so much effort into an apology means a lot to me. Really. But it doesn't sit right with me, blaming you for something you didn't mean to do, so can we just call it water under the bridge and skip ahead to the next scene?"

"Oh. Um... Of course, Mr. Chambers," Twilight answered, magically rolling the scroll back up. "But... you're really not mad?" she asked, head tilted downwards and eyes wide and puppylike.

"No, Twilight, I'm not mad," I reassured. "Little annoyed right now? Sure. But not mad. Okay?"

"Oh, thank goodness," Twilight exhaled, wiping her brow. "I was so worried that you'd hate me, and that I'd ruined diplomatic relations with the first alien species in history. Celestia would be so disappointed in me that she wouldn't let me be her student anymore, and I'd be thrown in the dungeon and..." She shook her head violently. "Never mind. That doesn't matter now."

I stared at her for a moment. "Y'know, I think I'm starting to see why everyone keeps telling me we're going to get along..." Again it struck me how familiar Twilight's voice sounded, but I couldn't quite place where I heard it before.

"You see, Twilight?" Spike called, "I told you you didn't need that big old apology letter." He set down a box of pencils and preened. "Maybe you should've listened to your number one assistant after all, huh?"

Twilight just rolled her eyes, then clenched them shut in concentration as her horn lit up. Suddenly, a zipper appeared over Spike's scaly lips and zipped his mouth shut. As Twilight grinned smugly, Spike sent her an unamused glare and a muffled grunt of annoyance.

Upon seeing that, my eye twitched involuntarily. "Okay-- first off, that seems a little abusive," I told Twilight, counting off my fingers and nodding in Spike's direction. "Secondly, wow, you just gave 'zip it' a whole new layer of meaning. Thirdly, what in the what??"

"Huh?" Twilight asked, totally oblivious. "What's wrong, Mr. Chambers?"

"What's wrong?" I repeated, "What's wr-- seriously? Okay, that zipper thing that just happened? That. That is what is wrong. Explain for the non-magical being, s'il vous plait." I crossed my arms and waited, my fear that my 'Aura Sense' might flare up again losing out to my indignation on behalf of physicists everywhere.

"Oh, that? That was just a simple Localized Transmutation spell," Twilight explained.

"...Transmutation," I replied, staring.

Twilight nodded. "It's the branch of magic that involves changing--"

"--Changing the attributes or physical properties of an object or person," I finished for her.

"You've heard of it?" Twilight asked excitedly, countless questions sparkling behind her purple eyes.

"Read it out of a Pathfinder rulebook," I answered. "A game. With virtually no basis in actual, human reality. You know what does have a basis, though? The Laws of Conservation. 'Matter and energy can neither be'--"

"--'Neither be created or destroyed, only changed from one form to another'," Twilight recited. " 'The amount of matter and energy in the universe is constant.' I read that out of a physics textbook," she stated with pride. "Something with total basis in 'actual, equine reality'. And you'll note, using magical energy to temporarily rearrange the physical structure of a rough handful of matter isn't so shocking when entire beings can pop out of thin air from a point of extradimensional origin." She crossed her arms much as I had, pleased with herself.

She had a point. "Yeah, well... warn a guy next time, would you? I'm new at this." 

Spike pulled open his mouth-zipper, which promptly vanished with a small flash of light. "Wait, I'm lost," he said once his mouth was finally free. "How did Twilight win that argument?"

"It was more of a debate," Twilight corrected.

"Okay, so basically everything's made out of stuff, see, and there's only enough stuff to go around," I explained. "I'm made out of different stuff from somewhere else, and that shouldn't be possible. So, the fact that I'm not from around here means I make less sense than the fact that she can change how stuff's put together with her mind. Make sense?"

"Uh..." Spike scratched his head.

"...Her science-fu is stronger than my science-fu."

"Oh," Spike replied. "Okay. I get it."

"Did you just use the words 'stuff' and 'science-fu' to explain a debate about advanced physics?" Twilight asked, mildly offended.

"I am a man of many talents," I conceded.

"Obviously explanations aren't one of them," she shot back.

"Maybe, but I can cook a mean Pop-Tart."

I am the Kanye West of witty comebacks.

And by that I mean massively overconfident in my skills and prone to making questionable life choices.

"Cook a mean what? No, nevermind. Forget I asked." Twilight shook her head in annoyance, and I let myself enjoy the little victory of getting under her skin. "You say your world doesn't have magic, Mr. Chambers--"

"Hey, look," I interrupted, "can we just, like, stop with the whole 'Mister Chambers' thing? I'm pretty sure we're the same age."

"But... but you're a diplomat," Twilight reasoned.

"Ha. Only 'cause I was the only guy available." I rubbed at my eyes as my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten since this morning. "Look. I'm not important, alright? I'm not special. I'm not a diplomat, or a scientist, or a hero from some adventure story. I'm just a guy. Just some kid who was in the right place at the right time, and now I'm here. I'm not-- I'm just me. Okay?"

"I... I see." Twilight seemed unsure of how to respond. "This... must be pretty hard for you," she realized.

"I'll probably need to see a shrink when I get back home, but I think I can hold it together until then," I half-lied.

Twilight took a seat beside my bed. "I'm sorry."

"I already told you--"

"No, I mean I'm sorry this is happening to you," she clarified. "Getting tossed into a whole new world, getting... well, getting attacked by a madmare..." she flashed a wry smile. "Honestly, I don't know if I would react as well if I were in your place."

"Me neither," Spike added as he pulled up a desk chair and sat in it backwards. His chin just barely reached over the top. "Plus, who cares if you're not an action hero or whatever? You're still one of the coolest guys I've ever met."

"Wow," I said, "Thanks, Spike. Coming from a talking dragon, that's... actually, that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me."

"Aw, don't mention it," he replied, trying to act as though my approval didn't matter, but he couldn't quite keep the happiness out of his expression.

"So," Twilight said, drawing our attention, "if you don't want to be called 'Mr. Chambers', should we just call you... John?"

"Actually, just... just call me Jack," I told them. "So uh, what were you saying before, Twilight?"

With a flash of Twilight's horn, the pile of paper and writing utensils Spike had organized took to the air, forming around the unicorn like an obsessive-compulsive tornado. When it settled, Twilight sat at attention with a clipboard and pen in her hands, while around her floated pencils, notepads, parchments, quills, inkwells, and a machine that I could only assume was an audio recorder.

Ladies and gentlemen, behold... Twilight Sparkle: professional übernerd.

"I was saying," Twilight began, "You know about transmutation, but you claim that your world doesn't have magic. Ignoring the fact that you read it out of a work of fiction, it's uncanny how similar your information is to a legitimate field of study we have here in Equestria. My question is: is transmutation as you've read about it an entirely new concept to your world, or does it draw inspiration from other practices or beliefs, either real or fictional?"

I glanced at Spike for help. He merely shrugged and said, "Meh. You get used to it."

Thanks, kid. Suuuper helpful.

Looking back at Twilight again, I gathered my wits and answered. "That's a good question. The idea of transmutation has been around for centuries, but not as a 'branch of magic' like it is in most fiction today. The term 'transmutation' was originally used to refer to attempts to turn base metals like lead into gold-- which is impossible, by the way-- and was one of the goals of a tradition called alchemy. Alchemy, you see, was all about examining different materials and seeing how they react under different conditions, and eventually it came to be the basis for modern chemistry and medicine." As I spoke, Twilight's pen (and pencils and quills) moved frantically.

"You know," Spike said, "I think we've heard of alchemy somewhere before. Right, Twilight?"

"It was a form of primitive healing arts practiced in Zebrica before the introduction of Equestrian medicine," Twilight answered without looking up from her notes. "Totally pointless. All those 'natural remedies' and 'cure-alls'... It was almost as dangerous and idiotic as drinking quicksilver to cure a failing liver. I'm sure human medicine has never been that stupid." She looked up at me. "Right, Jack?"

"Of... of course not," I replied. "I mean, mercury? Really? They might as well stick leeches all over themselves. Or drill holes in their heads."

...How has the human race not exterminated itself yet?

"Anyway," Twilight said, returning to her notes, "back on topic. Do you know about any other mystical or magical practices that began as something else, or were turned into something else later?"

"Well, there was this card game called Tarot that was played in France and Italy centuries ago," I explained. "It was turned into a form of fortune telling, and I think it had some influence on modern playing card games."

"Tarot?" Twilight asked, "Silent 't'?" At my nod, she continued. "Tarot is an actual form of divination in Equestria. Most practitioners are frauds, but a rare few ponies can actually use it to predict the future to some extent."

"Wait. You have actual fortune telling?" I questioned. "Like actual, proven predictions of future events?"

"The gift is incredibly rare, and most that have it usually keep to themselves," Twilight responded. "It can be a serious burden, what with everypony expecting you to warn them of impending danger."

"Right," I said, lifting my leg. "Now pull the other one."

"It's true!" Spike protested. "Twilight even wrote a paper about it last year."

"You know what? I want to read this paper," I told them.

"I'd be happy to let you read it but... it's a bit complex," said Twilight. "Wouldn't you rather I lend you some introductory books on magic, first?"

"Hey, I'll take whatever I can get my hands on," I shrugged.

At that moment there was a quick knock on the door, swiftly followed by the entrance of a servant leading a cart of food and drinks.

"Looks like room service is here," I announced. I mimed checking my pockets, then said to the servant, "Sorry, looks like I left my wallet in my other hospital gown. I'll tip next time, I swear."

The pony had begun to stare as soon as he caught sight of me, but at my joke he quickly recovered and nodded with a grin.

"Alright! I'm starving," said Spike, licking his chops.

"You're starving? The only thing I've had to eat today was a hospital breakfast," I complained, as the various dishes were set in front of us.

"But we're in the middle of a discussion," Twilight protested. All the objects floating around her made it difficult for the serving pony to set out her meal, but he handled it well enough. "I was just about to ask you--"

"Objection!" I yelled. A normal yell, not the Phoenix Wright version. I save those for special occasions. "Here's what's going to happen: the three of us are going to eat dinner, and maybe, maybe make conversation. If you try to ask me questions or interview me or whatever, then you better have been eating, because if not I will stare uncomfortably at you until you do. Believe it or not, I am awesome at the quiet game. Are we clear?"

"All right, fine. But if that's how you're going to play it, then maybe I should ignore all of your questions until you finish eating," smirked Twilight, eyes narrowed.

"That'd be a lot more effective if my stomach wasn't trying to consume itself," I replied smugly. "Now you finish your broccoli young lady, or no dessert before bed!"

"Oh, and whatever happened to 'we're the same age', Mr. Chambers?" she retorted.

"Wow, look who had her sense of humor removed," I shot back.

"Wha-- You-- I--" Twilight stammered, "I do too have a sense of humor."

"Oh, they let you keep it in a jar afterwards? Like tonsils?"

Twilight blushed. "I am plenty of fun. Right, Spike?"

We both looked to Spike. He leaned away as far as he could, hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me, dude. I know better."

Smart kid.

Twilight groaned in annoyance, then took an angry bite of her sandwich.

A sandwich made out of flowers. Should I be surprised?





Dinner was a mostly uneventful affair, despite Spike bemoaning the lack of quartz in his food. Apparently dragons could eat gemstones, along with everything a carnivore or herbivore could stomach, though he stayed away from meat for obvious reasons.

Twilight decided that it was best to hold off on teaching me about my new ability until after I had been released from the hospital. This would both give me time to learn the academic basics of magic, and give her time to put together a curriculum. The rest of today however, was devoted to Twilight's endless list of questions about everything human.

I had to make good on my 'uncomfortable stare' threat a few times, but after the third instance Twilight got fed up and began shoveling food into her mouth, cleaning her plate quickly and fixing me with a sour look. I contemplated giving her a snarky lecture on the dietary importance of chewing, but thought better of it. After that, the questions came in force.

I made it clear early on that a lot of my answers were going to be either 'I don't know' or some variation of 'You'll have to ask so-and-so when we find my world again', but even still, she managed to take pages and pages of notes on what little I could answer.

Every now and then Spike would cut in with a question about human movies or video games, or ask me to explain a certain comicbook character. As these were far more in my area of expertise than Twilight's questions, I was more than happy to answer them, lecturing on everything from Star Wars to Star-Lord, The Elder Scrolls to Tolkien's works, and everything in-between, much to Spike's enjoyment.

We talked for hours, but eventually exhaustion caught up with us. Or at least, it caught up with Spike and I. Twilight looked ready to pull an all-nighter, but with some childish whining from me, and some practiced wheedling from Spike, we finally managed to sway her.

As I readjusted my bed into a horizontal position for sleep, Spike tiredly dragged Twilight out of the room. She left with a promise of finding me plenty of material to study up with, but I waved her off with a sleepy grunt and focused on getting comfy.

I hadn't even turned off the lights when I fell asleep; my exhaustion so great that not even the strange tingling at the back of my skull could stop my descent from the waking world into the realm of slumber...


~  *  ~  *  ~





~  *  ~  *  ~


"Nineteen dollars and sixteen cents is your change," I said, handing the money to the man talking on his cell phone, who had barely even registered my existence throughout the whole transaction. He took it, and without so much as a nod in my direction he left, still chatting away.

"Thank you, and have a nice..." as soon as he was out the door, I dropped the act. "...Step on a Lego, you oblivious prick," I said under my breath. 

It was bad enough that he couldn't be bothered to hand me his payment like an actual human being, instead tossing it on the counter right next to my open hand. Or, that he was paying with a twenty for a soda that cost less than a dollar, siphoning what little change I had in my drawer like everyone else who was apparently allergic to small bills.

But, I figured, at least he wasn't asking me to--


~)O(~


"Can you break a hundred?"

I can break my foot off in your ass, if you don't take that shit to the bank that's right next door, I thought.

It's annoyed me to no end how, when there are no less than four different banks within easy walking distance, people will still come in to my gas station, expecting my coworkers and I to break hundred-dollar bills. Like they think we can just squat down and crap out a wad of fifty's and twenty's on demand, like modernized versions of the goose from "Jack and the Beanstalk".

Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are the worst though, with people buying a couple buck's worth of junk food as an excuse to break their payday money before they go raving, or playing beer-pong, or... whatever people with free time do on the weekends.

I stared at the offending bill for a moment, then quickly masked my disgust and looked up at the man holding it; a lanky, sweaty individual. The derpface-y look on his mug was so natural that I had to assume it was his resting expression.

"Do you have anything smaller?" I asked politely.

"This is all I got," he shrugged in response, not even bothering to conceal the folded stack of more sensible bills in his other hand.

"I just don't have the change for it in my register," I told him, trying for an apologetic tone even though I knew it wouldn't change the outcome.

As expected, his reaction was reminiscent of a subdued, adult version of the buildup just before the tantrum we've all seen some bratty kid throw in the middle of the toy department at Wal-Mart. He made no move whatsoever to offer the smaller bills.

With some effort, I hid the angry eye-twitch that situations just like this had caused me to develop, and said,"I'll have to get it out of the safe." ...a-fucking-gain. That appeased him, somewhat.

I looked away, lest my focus on him allow any of my accumulated anger and annoyance creep into my expression. Instead, I focused on the incredibly tedious juggling act of withdrawing money, recording it, change-making, depositing money, and recording it again, that was so inconvenient only a bureaucrat or a masochist could find it entertaining.

All because this schlep couldn't walk seventy feet from here to the bank.

I knelt down next to the stupid safe to vend the stupid money so I could make his stupid change--


~)O(~


--and took a few calming breaths. I stood, bringing the absurdly heavy bag-in-box of soda syrup with me. I heaved the unwieldy box up onto my shoulder, then loaded it into its place in the soda dispenser's hidden workings in the back room.

"Way to go," cheered my coworker Wilson; a semi-retired former railroader and one of the friendliest guys you'll ever meet. "Say, thanks for doing this for me, John."

"No problem, Wil," I huffed from exertion. "Besides, you probably shouldn't push yourself too hard this soon afte--"

"I would have gotten it myself, but I didn't want to push too hard so soon after my surgery," he continued, indicating the leg he had been favoring all day.

See that's the thing with Wilson. He did his time on the railroad back in the days when safety regulations were still fairly new, and seen more as guidelines than hard rules. Apparently, it used to be a "joke" to blow the train's whistle when a worker was standing next to it.

As a result, Wil's hearing isn't that great even with hearing aides, and he often misses what people say.

With that in mind, I just nodded in affirmation. "No problem," I said a little louder, making sure Wilson could see my lips moving this time.

Technically, since my shift had just ended and I had already clocked out, I wasn't supposed to be doing anything work-related or else I'd be a "liability", legally-speaking. But, it's just not in my nature to see a man who's at least three times my age struggle with a heavy box and not offer to help. Besides, I was lucky enough at the moment to have bosses who wouldn't give me flak for not being clocked in when helping a coworker who recently had surgery.

"So, did you hear what happened to Hannah?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah," I said, "Rob said earlier they let her go bec--"

"Well, they had to let her go," he said in a disappointed tone. "Apparently when first shift came in this morning, they found her getting a Tarot reading-" he pronounced the word like 'carrot' "- from a customer, with a giant line backed up nearly out the door! I mean what was she thinking? It's just plain unprofessional."

Another thing about Wilson, he always had a story to tell... whether you wanted to hear it or not.

"Right. Hey look," I said quickly, motioning to the clock above the rack of spare coats, "I'm already clocked out and I'm uh, meeting some friends in like half an hour, and it's getting kinda late, so--"

"Well, would you look at that!" he exclaimed, just now noticing the time. "Where did the evening go?"

"Wherever it went, it can stay there..." I muttered.

"Did you clock out already?"

I sighed, holding up my time slip. "Just on my way out," I said tiredly.

"Well, don't let me keep you. Until next time!"

"Yeahsureseeya," I rushed, snatching up my jacket and hurrying to freedom.

I felt bad about lying-- I had nothing planned besides grabbing some dinner and derping around on Netflix until I fell asleep-- but Wilson's storytelling lost most of its charm after the umpteenth random tale about him scheduling an oil change. Besides, I was never one for gossip, especially when I had already gotten all the actual facts from the assistant manager.

I made it outside, and took a deep breath of the night's warm, humid air. Looking up, the stars were unusually bright tonight, standing out in the sky despite the ambient glare of the city lights. The moon was abnormally large too, the shadows of its craters forming in an unfamiliar way. They almost looked like...

"Weird..." I muttered, then promptly forgot about it.

Keys in hand, I headed over to my car. I opened the driver's side door--


~)O(~


--and slammed it roughly, scowling at the empty parking lot and everything in it. It was still dark; the sun hadn't even risen yet, and I was already back at this stupid place.

I took a bitter gulp of the drink in my hand, something called "coffee". I knew the word from somewhere, but I was too deep in Way-The-Hell-Too-Early-Ville to remember where from. Every sip was like a finely-crafted "Fuck You" to my taste buds, but for some unfathomable reason, I didn't stop drinking it.

I spat irritably into the bushes by my parking space, then found myself back inside the store. I don't remember walking in.

It was so early that not even the canned, crappy radio system had woken up yet, showing that apparently even a thoughtless machine had more sense than me.

Hannah was there, a customer giving her a Tarot reading, of all things. There was a woman waiting in line behind them, her perma-scowl matching my own. I caught her eye, nodded, and gestured with my cup to the next register in the row.

As I moved to my place behind it, I had to wonder where the hell the other overnight worker had run off to. Probably picking up Hannah's slack on the side work. Apparently that happens a lot, from what I'm told.

I helped the lady as best I could, though I think the both of us were communicating through grunts and gestures. She left, and I directed my tired glare at my coworker.

She was leaning over the counter, obviously not paying attention to her work, while some guy dressed like the villain from that Disney movie with the frogs shuffled some cards.

It was ridiculous. This, on top of how little effort she puts into her job... I wouldn't be surprised if she gets herself fired within the week.

I kind of feel sorry for her. She's definitely going to have a bad day when the manager comes in with the morning shift.

But it's not really my concern. I'm on the evening shift; it'll all be over by the time I hear about it.

...

...

...Wait.

I'm evening shift.

I don't come in until the afternoon.

What the hell am I doing here now...?

"Hm-hm..."


~)O(~


"We meet again."

The voice came from a woman seated in across from me.

She looked slightly familiar. In a way, she looked like the bookstore cashier girl I had talked to before... before something... but she was far different.

Her hair, once blond and short, was now a dark black that fell in waves to her shoulders, framing her features like a curtain of starless night made tangible. Her face had changed, too. Its shape and expressions were more mature, more sensual, more... Just more. Her glasses were gone, and her smoldering eyes were a shade of blue-green, the odd darkness about them doing nothing to diminish their vividness.

I could notice no detail about her figure, but the way she spoke, the way she moved, even the way she held herself were all... hypnotic...

"It was most unfortunate that our first encounter was cut so short," the woman said. "You are far too intriguing to simply ignore."

I opened my mouth to protest. "Intriguing" was definitely not a word people would use to describe me, especially not attractive women with beautiful eyes.

"Shh..." the woman hushed me. Her full lips formed into a smile that promised all the right kinds of mischief. "Who are you to decide what interests me, hmm?"

I stayed silent, simply taking in the woman's presence.

"Tell me, have you ever experienced a Tarot reading before?"

I shook my head.

"Truly?" she purred, producing a deck of cards. "Then I... am to be your first."

The innuendo was heavy, but I was too enthralled to react. The woman's expression was pleased. And predatory. And very very alluring.

"Consider yourself fortunate," she said as she shuffled the cards. "I rarely do this. And never on a whim."

She cut the deck and dealt out three cards on the table between us, face down. "This will be a reading of your Future," she explained, then indicated each card individually. "The Immediate, followed by the Imminent, followed by the Eventual."

She flipped over the first card.


XVI


On it was a tower decorated with imposing gargoyles in the middle of a dark forest, furious stormclouds raging in the sky above. An enormous bolt of lightning had struck the tower, snapping it in half just above the middle. Fires could be seen raging in all the windows. Not-quite-human figures were fleeing from it in all directions, some even throwing themselves from it's heights. Some of the figures had horns, though they were snapped in half, much like the tower. Others had wings, but all were broken and bloodied, their primary feathers ripped out. If the scene were real, few of them would survive, if any.

"The Tower in the upright position," the woman said. "It signifies danger, crisis, and destruction. A tragedy is soon to befall you. Or perhaps, one already has..." Her knowing smile was no less enchanting, no less ominous than any before it.

She turned over the second card.


XIII


On this card was a feminine equine figure, tall and powerful, standing before a field full of the dead and dying. Kings, clergymen, paupers... All were equal in their deaths, their blood intermingling, churned into the earth under the mare's hooves. The mare was pitch black, from the tip of her wickedly sharp horn to the feathers of her outstretched, hawk-like wings. In the distance, two massive doors of some unknown material hung open, the chains across them shattered. The darkness within those doors was a physical thing, seeming to swallow the light around it.

Next to the mare was a figure. Not a man, but something far more immutable. He was covered in dark armor with silver filigree, the plates like obsidian scales that reflected no light. His head was mostly shrouded by a hooded cape that fell to just below his waist. His face could barely be seen, and I wasn't sure if his skin was merely pale and his eyes merely deep-set... or if his countenance was that of a skull. At his side hung a sword, and in his hand he carried a heraldic banner. But instead of a coat of arms, the banner was blank; the unbroken black flag waving with an air of finality over the grim scene.

"Death, in the upright position," the woman said, as if the terrible image on the card had little consequence. "How very macabre for your 'first time'. Well, I never did promise to be gentle, did I?" She smiled again, eyes flashing and canines showing. "The Death card normally symbolizes an end. But in your case the end of what, I wonder? The end of an interest? The end of a relationship, perhaps? The end of your..." She stretched languidly, leaning forward. "...Innocence?"

Everything about this woman was equal parts seductive and terrifying. In a way, I felt as if I was sitting before some kind of predatory jungle cat, waiting for her to decide how much she wanted to play with me before shredding me to ribbons.

"Hm,hm,hm..." She leaned back, picking up the Death card again. "In readings, this card rarely signifies a physical death, but taken with The Tower? Tut, tut. You should tread carefully from here on. After all... you never know what others might be hiding from you..." The woman smiled as though she had just told some kind of joke, my lack of a reaction causing her to smile ever more.

"Now, one more card, and we'll see what path Fate has set for you."

She began to turn over the final card... but paused.

"Oh...?" With a mildly curious expression, she picked up the card and examined it, keeping its face hidden from me.

Her expression changed to one I wasn't expecting, but nevertheless found familiar:

Surprise.

I wasn't expecting it, because surprise simply didn't seem like something that happened to a woman like this.

However, that's the very reason I found it familiar; her expression of surprise was nearly a mirror of Ce--

"My... my... my," she breathed, that beautiful and ominous look of pleasure once again present, "You are far more interesting than I had anticipated. I'll be keeping this to myself, for now." She slid the card back into the deck, then collected the other two. "After all, you should never know too much about your future."

I almost began to protest, but suddenly she was standing at my side, her finger over my lips.

"Hush..." Her finger trailed down to my chin, lifting it with ease until my gaze met hers. "Rest assured, we will be seeing each other again. But for now, a parting gift..."

"Close your eyes," she commanded, and I did

With my eyes closed and her finger still under my chin, I felt rather than saw her lean forward until her mouth was by my ear.

"Knowledge is Power," she whispered. "Think of this as... a hint."


~)O(~


I opened my eyes to an empty room with walls made of stone.

There were no doors, no windows, and nothing in it but me. I wasn't even sure how I was seeing anything, as there were no light sources, either. I turned and moved to the nearest wall, looking for a hidden switch or something similar. As I ran my hands over the masonry, I heard a sound from the empty room behind me.

It was a familiar sound, like wind passing through a crystal wind chime--

Magic.

I whirled around and threw my back against the wall, facing the source of the sound that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the room.

There, on a raised dais stood an archway, its shape like that of a horseshoe. It looked to be made of tarnished bronze, with various diamond-shaped gems of one kind or another at regular intervals along the arch. The inside of the arch was a reflective surface like a mirror, but as I drew closer the reflection darkened. By the time I was only a few feet away, the mirror had become an empty void, the darkness broken only by a jagged line of white; a small crack in the mirror's surface.

The ringing sound of magic was definitely coming from the mirror, but I was unsure of how to proceed. Part of me wanted to touch the mirror's surface, but something made me hesitate. On impulse, I spoke aloud to the empty room.

"Uh... H-hello?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, everything shifted.

It felt as though a fog in my mind had cleared up, and a veil over my senses had been lifted.

I suddenly noticed just how wrong the room was.

The stonework of the walls had felt entirely smooth, even over the parts that looked like grooves.

Whole sections of the far wall were fuzzy, like a low-resolution texture in a game.

Even the air was off, and I felt a strange sensation of weightlessness, despite having both feet firmly planted on the ground.

"What... in... the... hell?" I wondered, staring at the "half-rendered" walls around me.

The magic chime cut off abruptly, and I focused on the mirror again.

It hadn't changed in the slightest, but I suddenly felt as though I were being watched by something in the mirror's void.

I watched it intently, backing down off the dais. The surface of the mirror didn't lighten or change in any way.

My eyes started to ache from staring at the empty space for so long, and I began working up the nerve to speak again.

Before I got the chance, a pair of slanted, angry eyes opened within the void.

The eyes' sclerae were off-white, almost a shade of green, as if their vertically-slitted pupils had cut holes in their blue-green irises, allowing the color to seep out.

They glared at me with the same expression abusive owners give misbehaving pets, only multiplied.

Before I could react, an unseen force bodily gripped me, and I was wrenched forward.

I didn't even have time to scream as I was flung into the mirror, into the void, into the eyes...


~  *  ~  *  ~





~  *  ~  *  ~


...Round, bright eyes the color of an amber sunset only inches away from my face--

"Aaghck!" I screamed.

"Waahgh!" the eyes yelped.

Wait, scratch that.

The mare yelped.

We both reeled away from each other, nearly causing me to fall out of bed.

"Buck!" someone grunted, and a strong pair of hands caught me just before I tumbled over the side.

The green mare wasn't so lucky, stumbling backward over the guest chair and landing head-first on the floor, hooves in the air and wings sprawled awkwardly.

"Celestia damn it, Flow!" hissed the stallion that caught me, easing me back into place with red-furred hands. "What did I tell you? Huh? What did I just say?"

"Nngh. 'Don't mess with the hospitalized diplomat'? ...Ow."

"And what did you do?"

"...Exactly what you said not to?"

"Exactly what I said not to!"

"Y'know, Fraggy..." The mare shifted around on the floor, then used the chair to pull herself up to a sitting position, blowing a tuft of mane out of her eyes. "...You're no fun at all, sometimes."

"Fraggy" palmed himself in the face with an audible *smack!'*, and I felt a glimmer of sympathy as he went through some obvious anger control exercises.

"Ambassador Chambers, sir," he started, (It took me a moment to realize he meant me.) "I am so sorry for her behavior. She was dropped on her head a lot as a filly--"

"--Hey! One time!--"

"--and she's not exactly capable of impulse control, but I swear she won't do it again--"

I was waaay too out of it for this shit. "Hey-- No-- Just-- Shut up. Both of you just-- Fuck-- Just, stop...doing shit. For like... five seconds. Please."

They did.

As I tried to gather my frayed wits, I reflected for a moment on how it felt to tell people to do things and they actually do it.

It's kinda nice, actually.

I managed to get my bearings, remember where I was-- and who I was, and focused on pulling the last things I remembered up out of my brain.

Let's see... Twilight and Spike were here... we ate dinner... they left... and then I went to sleep.

Okay.

So where did these assholes come from?

"Hey!" the mare protested.

"No! Bad!" I scolded. "Nnnno talkie!"

...Did I say that out loud?

"Respectfully, sir," the stallion said, "you are mumbling. Loudly, in fact."

"...Well, crap." I breathed a heavy sigh, then said to the Abbott and Costello wannabes, "Okay. Who are you, what are you doing in my room, and why in the name of Kevin Conroy's vocal cords were you standing over me like that?"

"Aww. Ya don't remember us?" pouted the green mare.

I studied her. A pegasus mare, with an olive drab coat. Her mane was messy, but relatively short. It was a dark, grayish-blue, a nighttime color, but turned bright orange at the tips. Her figure was toned and athletic, though I couldn't guess her height from her place on the ground. She was dressed in fatigue pants and a loose, white tank top. So loose, in fact, that the way she was resting her... self... on the arm of the chair beside her made it apparent that she wasn't wearing a bra.

She caught me looking, and gave me a leering grin in response that I found mildly disturbing.

"Uh..." I turned to the other pony.

He was a wine red earth pony, slightly above average height, with a soldier's build. His mane was a two-toned, no-nonsense cut, like a palette swap of Mr. Fantastic's 'do. The majority of it was a light sandy brown, but the sides were a contrasting vivid blue. He stood at attention, perfectly still, his sunrise purple eyes fixed on an invisible point straight ahead. Like the mare he was also wearing fatigue pants, but with the corresponding shirt. I couldn't quite make out the name on the patch above the breast pocket.

"...Should I remember you?" I asked.

"We weren't formally introduced the first time, sir," Earth Pony said. With a crisp salute he recited, "Corporal Fragment of the Equestrian Armed Guard, Royal Guard Division."

I snapped my fingers in recognition. "Painter-Mom guy!" He looked a lot different without the armor.

His salute faltered a little, and he looked at me with a sheepish gesture of acknowledgement.

"*Snrk*-- 'Painter-Mom guy'?" repeated the mare, now standing, mirth evident in her tone.

"Wait, so if he's him," I reasoned, "then you're..."

"Lieutenant Flow Hammer. Or 'that incredibly stunning mare that airlifted you aaaall the way back to the medical wing in time to stabilize you'," she smirked, buffing her nails on her tank top.

Her loose, low-cut tank top...

"But you can just call me Flow. You know~..." she crossed her arms under her chest, causing her décolletage to become even more pronounced, "I had you in my arms for a good couple 'a minutes, snuggled up all comfy to little old me." She sighed dramatically (and distractingly). "It's such a shame you were conked out... most colts would kill to be where you were."

I could hear Fragment facepalming behind me.

I do not like this olive mare. I do not like her, Yogi Bear.

"...Y'mean bleeding profusely with a face-full of cold plate metal?" I deadpanned.

"Hey, if that's what you're into," shrugged Flow, smirk still present.

I turned to Fragment, who was massaging temples. "I need an adult," I said.

"I am an adult," Flow quipped, interrupting whatever Fragment was about to say.

"Celestia's Beard, Flow," Fragment... swore? I think? "You do realize we're in the medical wing, right? I can have the Surgeon General come and spay you if you don't leave the Ambassador alone."

Flow snickered. "Nice try, Fraggy. Buuut~..." She placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward, grinning smugly. "I outrank you, remember?"

"Only because they haven't demoted you this month!" Fragment argued, "Again!"

"Semantics, Fraggy-old-buddy-old-pal!" Flow dismissed, plopping down into a chair and kicking her hooves up onto the foot of my bed. "Point is, right now you gotta do what I say! And Flow says, 'wait outside in the hall', Fraggy-boy!"

"Flow, I'm warning you--"

"That was an order, Corporal," she drawled, reclining with her eyes closed and her hands behind her head. After a pause, she reopened one eye to smirk at Fragment. "You're not gonna disobey a direct order, are you?"

Around his face, the Corporal's red coat managed to turn an even deeper shade, veins sticking out on his forehead and neck as he shook with rage. Through clenched teeth, he managed to seethe out a "No, Ma'am", then stormed his way out of the room.

Wow. I mean, I thought I was annoying, but damn. Wait, where's he going?

I was impressed with-- and slightly envious of-- how easily she had gotten under his skin, which distracted me from the fact that I was being left alone with the psycho hose-beast until it was too late.

...Crapbaskets.

"Pfft... Bwa-ha-ha-ha!" Flow burst into a childish fit of snickering so intense she had to use her wings to stabilize herself. "Did-- ha-- did you see the look on his face? Priceless! I'm gonna get an earful from him later, but it was so worth it!"

As her laughter died down, she caught my wary look. "Oh, what? It's fiiine, he'll get over it! Besides, I wouldn't bother him so much if he wasn't such a stick in the mud."

When I didn't respond, she rolled her eyes, sighing petulantly. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for startling you like that," she said with sincerity. "I had no idea you were gonna wake up when you did. Total mishap." Then, with an impish grin, she toyed with the straps of her top in a teasing manner. "Is there any way I can... make it up to you?" she asked with a very false innocence.

"That depends," I answered indifferently. "Can you slap yourself with a restraining order for me?"

"Hah!" With a bark of laughter she dropped the charade, slapping her knee. "Good one, Ambassador. Are all humans this fun?"

"...We vary. And I'm not an ambassador."

"Meh," she shrugged. "No fur off my coat." She gripped the arms of her chair and flapped her wings once, propelling herself forward until the chair was right up against the bed. "Sooo," she began, leaning uncomfortably close to me, "does the not-Ambassasor have a marefriend back home? A coltfriend, maybe?"

"N-no," I leaned away.

"Ooo, so you're available~?" She batted her eyes.

"Not to you, lady," I frowned.

"Oh, I see. So you're..." she trailed off, smirking devilishly.

"Not attracted to folks that sleep in padded cells? 'Fraid so," I said mock-apologetically.

"Oh!" she exclaimed theatrically, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Oh, woe is me! How will I ever find a date? Will I be forced to pester poor Fraggy until the end of his days? How will I ever survive? Ooohh..." She pretended to faint, hamming it up as much as possible.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Is this Canterlot or Broadway?" I muttered. Aloud, I asked, "So why're you in my room, anyways?"

Flow recovered, scooting her chair back with the same wing trick before responding. "Twilight Sparkle needed some stuff delivered to your room and Fraggy volunteered even though he was off duty, the workaholic. I tagged along for the fun of it. I can never resist a chance to mess with the big red sourpuss."

I glanced at the nightstand. Sure enough, there sat a modestly tall stack of books, along with a rectangular box.

"You just live  to annoy people, don't you?" I said to her, a smile forming against my will.

"What can I say? I love getting a rise out of ponies," she grinned, waggling her eyebrows at the innuendo.

"S-so, uh, you and Fraggy-- Fragment known each other long?"

"Went through basic together, been friends ever since," she replied, leaning the chair back on two legs. "Though if you ask him, he'll probably call me a 'constant pain in his cute, red flank'. Or something like that. I dunno. I paraphrased. Oh, before I forget..." She reached over and pulled a manilla envelope from between the last two books in the pile.  "...A scaly friend asked me for a favor, so I smuggled you in some real entertainment."

I opened the folder to find a number of comicbooks encased in plastic. They had all been well cared for. There was also an index card with a list of titles-- a reading order, courtesy of Spike. "Huh. When you said 'real entertainment', I thought you meant dirty magazines for a second."

"What, like Playcolt?" she asked, blowing a tuft of mane out of her eyes. "That'd just be weird."

"Which is exactly why I was expecting it from you," I retorted.

"Ha!" she barked. " Y'know someting, kid? You're alright. In fact, since I like you so much, I think I'll let you in on a little secret or two." She leaned forward conspiratorially, eyes glimmering. "The first is my cup size--"

"OH-KAY! We're done here. Check please!" I reached for the call button, but she caught my hand.

"--Kidding! I'm kidding! No need to sic the brass on me, okay?" She let go of my hand. I eyed her warily, but didn't reach for the button again. "Okay. All jokes aside, scuttlebutt says they're giving you one of the diplomatic guest rooms once you're outta here. One of the super ritzy ones, too. I'm talkin' walk in closets, a jacuzzi bathtub, a balcony with a stunning view, the works. Aannnd... A Cowlifornia king-sized bed, so you'll have plenty of room for 'sleeping', wink-wink."

I looked away in exasperation. "Hell's Bells. You never stop, do you?"

"Not when I'm conscious," she chirped. "S'part of my charm."

I didn't bother looking at her again. I assumed that, like an animal, eye contact would only provoke her. Instead, I skimmed over the covers of the issues Spike had lent me.

"Anywho," she continued unabated, "if that wasn't enough, the Boss-Lady's even assigning you your own bodyguard."

"Please tell me it's not you..." I groaned.

Flow gripped the railing of my bed. "Hey," she said, her tone suddenly serious.

I looked at her. Gone were the playful looks and the careless posture. Now her eyes were hard, and her mouth had formed a thin line, downturned into a frown.

"Watch yourself around this guy, alright?" she said by way of warning.

Her sudden change had caught me off guard. "...What?"

She started to say something but stopped, shook her head, and stood. "Look, there's something going on, here. There has to be, if they're assigning him to you."

"Who?" I asked. "Him who?"

Flow shook her head and started walking away, heading for the door. "I don't know much about the details. Hay, I might'a said enough already to get myself canned for real this time. But..." She stopped with a sigh, looking back at me. "My gut's telling me that you're alright. Whatever happens, I just don't want there to be a misunderstanding that could'a been avoided."

...you never know what others might be hiding from you...

I shook my head, feeling momentarily dazed. "Uh... Thanks, I guess. But that... doesn't really explain anything."

"Meh," she shrugged coolly. "You're the smart guy. You'll figure it out."

I threw my hands up in defeat. "Fine, whatever," I sighed. "...Can you at least explain why you were standing directly over me when I woke up?"

Flow's serious expression faded as she returned to her usual petulant self. "Well, Fraggy told me not to, so of course I had to do it to mess with him. Plus, you just looked so adorable, I couldn't help myself! Like a cute widdle puppy. It just made me want to snuggle in close and cuddle up!" She hugged herself tightly and shook her shoulders, knowing exactly what the motions were doing to her chest and hips.

I brought a hand to my face and groaned in exasperation.

"Look at that! You and Fraggy are practically twins," she snickered. "Also, did you know you twitch in your sleep?"

"I'll give you a twitch," I growled.

"Ooo, kinky, but at least buy me a drink first--"

"AAUGH!" I yelled, throwing the nearest solid object I could reach (Magic and You, by Princess Celestia) in the general direction of the green menace.

Unfortunately, my aim with my offhand was shaky, and my target dodged easily.

"What the Hay, Flow--" *THWAP*

More unfortunately, that was the moment Fragment decided to return, catching a textbook to the face as soon as he opened the door.

Flow ducked under his arm while he was stunned, bolting into the hall and away, all the while cackling like the psycho she is.

"Restraining order!" I yelled after her. "I swear to God, woman!"

Fragment groaned, rubbing his snout. For a moment, he stared in the direction Flow had fled, likely debating whether or not to chase after her. He decided against it apparently, stepping fully into the room and picking the book up from where it had fallen. "She'll be long gone in a minute," he sighed. "I heard you shouting, sir. Are you alright?"

"Fine," I growled. "Just... peachy. Does she have, like, an off switch or something?"

"I wish, sir," he groaned, coming closer. "I've known her for years and I still haven't found one."

"Sorry about that, by the way," I said nodding to the book in his hand. "I was aiming for her head."

He snorted. "No problem, sir. Believe me, I get it."

"Also, you can stop with the 'sir' stuff, if you want. I don't get paid enough to be a 'sir'."

"Fine by me," he grinned, setting the book on the nightstand. "So should I call you 'John', or do you prefer... what was it? 'Jack'?"

"Jack," I confirmed, sticking out my hand. "Nice to meetcha."

"Fragment," he replied with a shake. "Same." The manilla envelope and its contents caught his eye, and he smiled. "Heh. So that's why she offered to carry the books..."

"Wait, you mean she wasn't kidding about smuggling these from Spike?"

"Looks like it."

"Bu--... Wha--... Why?"

He shrugged. "From what I heard, Miss Sparkle wants you focused on studying, not 'distracted by glorified picture books'."

My eye started the angry twitching.

"Glorified... Picture... Books?"

Rrrrrright in the jimmies.

Fragment put up his hands. "Her words, not mine."

I took a deep breath in through my nose.

Held it.

And let it out slowly.

"I can deal. I'm okay with this-- I am in... my happy place. Woosaaaahhh..."

"...You good?" Fragment asked.

"Getting there." I held up the comics. "These'll help."

"Glad to hear it," he replied.

"Guess I should thank the crazy lady next time I see her?"

"Probably not. Knowing Flow, it'd probably just provoke her."

"So you've had to put up with her for a while, huh?"

He grunted in affirmation. "Been a pain in my flank since the day we first met in basic training."

It's nice to know that the "secret" man language of grunts and gestures is cross-species.

"It's a shame, though," Fragment sighed, looking to the door.

I grunted questioningly.

"She may not act like it, but Flow Hammer is one of the best soldiers I've ever seen," he explained. "She gets almost as many commendations as she does reprimands. She could be the Captain of an entire Division, or Hay, even one of the Elite Guard if she wasn't so... so..."

"Bat-shit insane?" I offered.

"Hah! Yeah, pretty much." He started to say something else, but stopped to stifle a yawn. "Sorry about that, I didn't expect to be up this late. Or early, depending on how you look at it."

I checked a nearby clock. Three thirty in the morning.

"Yikes," I said. "I forgot it was even possible to be awake this early."

"Sorry again about that," Fragment winced.

"Hey," I waved him off. "What can you do, right?"

"I hear you. Welp, I guess I'll get going, now. Get out of your mane," he said, heading for the door.

"Take it easy," I called.

"You too. Get some rest."

"...'It just made me want to cuddle up'," I mocked once he left. "Pff. Right, like I'm getting to sleep after that."

I reached for the pile of books, grabbing one randomly from around the middle. Surprisingly, it was about Tarot. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't work after a certain time of night, so by the middle of the page I caught myself reading the same line over and over again. I set the book aside, and picked up the box instead.

Inside was a deck of Tarot cards. I drew one and examined it.


XVIII


On it were two large, foreboding pillars of grey, a winding path running between them. In the foreground, on the foot of the path were two animals; a black dog and a white wolf. They stood opposite each other, their muzzles turned upwards in simultaneous howls. Above them, a glowing silver moon hung in the night sky, its craters forming the head of a pony. It was as if the pony in the moon were gazing down on the earth below, silently watching...

I shivered, suddenly cold.

"Huh," I muttered, losing the card in the deck and thinking nothing more if it. I looked over a few other cards, then put them away.

I was finally tired enough to hopefully get to sleep again, as long as nobody else came by to screw with me.

I laid back, blowing out a breath.

"... All the ponies on this planet are crazy..."