Chapter 12: No Place Like Home
When Marshall arrived at Rarity's residence, the owner of said residence decided that it would be best if they got his bath out of the way. Since he wasn't mentally prepared for it, he tried to postpone it by citing the fact that it would cut into her work hours. Unfortunately, Rarity countered with her desire to have him model some of her creations, in part because she simply didn't have any mannequins that would accommodate her designs, and she certainly didn't want him to wear anything while in a state of uncleanliness.
His first, proper bathing experience as a pony had started out awkward, but a concerted, determined effort to normalize things had been fairly successful. While they certainly weren't fooling themselves about the reality of their situation, by viewing the other as a twin sister, the effort had been enough to work through their initial misgivings. When all was said and done, they had felt a little silly about their qualms, and Marshall wound up realizing that he had felt more embarrassed about needing someone else's assistance to bathe him than anything else. It still didn't feel natural, but it was a start.
Once that was out of the way, Marshall joined Rarity as she got back to work. He soon learned that she was working on a new kimono, since she had finished the other one earlier that morning, and that the focus of its design would be different: rather than showcasing a panoramic image, it would allow the wearer to have their tail out in the open, which would then be incorporated into the imagery of the kimono. After enough progress had been made with the kimono, to the extent that it could be worn, Marshall got to put it on and see the effect for himself, and he had to admit that replacing the water of a waterfall with his tail worked really well with the jungle scene, in combination with the late evening colors that were a bit more vivid than normal — even for a world that appeared to take place within a cartoon setting.
They talked as they worked, with Rarity taking the initiative. She began by asking Marshall about his day, regarding the tour, entertaining the children at the school, and his experience with flying in particular. Marshall was happy to oblige her, but it eventually occurred to him that he could treat their chat as an opportunity to try and find out why she placed so much importance in her work, to the extent of it being detrimental; that, and the real reason for why she had abandoned her dream to live — and operate her business — in Canterlot. The problem was that they barely knew each other, and she hadn't even been open about it with her friends, so he figured that his only realistic option, at present, was to be sneaky about it. Unfortunately, by the end of the work day, he'd only managed to come up with ideas that had no chance of making such an effort successful.
Now, while he walked alongside Rarity, as they made their way to her parent's house, he began to wonder if he would have enough time to achieve the kind of relationship that would allow him to become Rarity's confidante. He didn't feel right about being disingenuous, which was part of the reason for why he worried about the time available to him: because a real friend wouldn't be duplicitous in order to attain any level of trust. It was at that point, when all of the new experiences weren't distracting him too much for him to think about it, that he realized just how much he had his work cut out for him, if he intended to build a close relationship with Rarity the right way.
Of course, Rarity had noticed his rumination, who turned to regard him and queried, "What are you thinking about, if you don't mind my asking?"
Marshall wasn't about to share the thoughts that he'd had on his mind, but he doubted that he could lie convincingly: not only did Rarity seem to be rather astute, and their connection provide plenty of insight, but he didn't consider himself to be a good liar. Then again, being open and honest about it might be for the best. He couldn't be sure of that, though, because he didn't have much expertise when it came to the intricacies of relationships in general, but especially when it came to anyone that he didn't know very well.
In the end, since he couldn't think of a better option, he sighed and said, "You know that your friends care about you, right?"
"Of course," Rarity patiently replied, her expression not revealing whatever thoughts that she might have had about what he could possibly say next.
"Well," Marshall temporized, as he considered how to put his next words, "Twilight is worried that your friendship is getting in the way of your, um... aspirations?"
Rarity frowned a bit as she returned her gaze to the fore. "Since she hasn't shared that idea with anypony else, I take it that she wanted you to help her uncover whether her concerns were warranted or not?"
"More or less," Marshall admitted.
Rarity fell silent, her brow furrowed in thought. When she failed to say anything by the time that Marshall could see their destination, he was convinced that she wouldn't say anything at all, and feared that he had made a mistake. Then, when they reached the front door of her family's home, she paused on the doorstep instead of opening the door, or knocking on it. By the time that Marshall felt compelled to say something, to try and salvage the situation, Rarity continued to stare at the door as she finally said, "I appreciate that you were candid with me."
"I don't think I had much of a choice, really," Marshall replied, with a shrug of his shoulders.
After turning her head to regard him, Rarity smiled and said, "Still, you could have tried." Her smiled faded, and in a more serious tone she added, "So, if you promise to never repeat what I'm about to say without my express permission, I'll tell you enough to put your mind at ease."
Surprised that he would even get that much, Marshall managed to nod his head and say, "Of course." When Rarity cocked her eyebrow expectantly, he hastily elaborated, "I mean: I promise."
Rarity looked about for potential eavesdroppers before she leaned closer to Marshall and whispered behind her hoof, saying, "Had I not been friends with Twilight and the others, I wouldn't have learned that my original plan had been a bad idea before it was too late."
Before Marshall could think to ask for more details, Rarity opened the door and entered the house, announcing their presence vocally in the process. He belatedly followed after her, wondering what her old plan could have been. It seemed a bit odd that she would want what she had told him to remain a secret, since it didn't seem like such a bad thing to share. He decided to think about it later, considering the attention that his current situation demanded.
The inside of Rarity's parents' house, from what little he saw between the front door and dining room, looked pretty mundane compared to Rarity's fanciful and colorful choice in interior design and furnishings. Overall, what he saw was fairly simple and promoted a cozy atmosphere, yet he was pretty sure that some of the furnishings weren't inexpensive by any means — not that he was an expert about such things. Either way, the dining room table was fairly large and sturdy-looking, and comfortably accommodated the six chairs around it. He couldn't really discern much else about it, though, because of the table cloth.
While he also noticed that the table was set, which included a pitcher of water and a vase of flowers that had been placed in the middle of the table, what really began to capture his attention were the aromas in the air: because there was a scent among the others that caught his attention, due to the subconscious part of his mind trying to tell him something about it that the conscious part couldn't pin down. Whatever the smell was, it was certainly familiar, but — for the life of him — he couldn't figure out how it was, or why it would matter.
His attention was soon diverted by the entrance of another pony, who entered the dining room from — as far as he could tell from his vantage point — the kitchen. She was a mare who had a pale fuchsia coat, light blue eyes, and hair that was two shades of greyish purple, one medium and the other very pale. Her mane was done up in a bouffant style, and she wore a pair of gold ball earrings and a yellow neck scarf. Just over the back of one of the chairs, he could make out her cutie mark, which appeared to be of three cookies, and one of them seemed to be in the process of crumbling apart. Although being cartoon-like made it difficult for him to judge the age of the ponies, unless they were rather young or old, he could make out — based on all of the ponies that he had seen thus far — faint signs of the mare's age, which led him to assume that she was Rarity's mother.
The assumed mother in question brightened upon seeing Rarity and spoke with an accent that Marshall recognized but couldn't put a name to. "Perfect timing, Rarity." She seemed about to say more, until her gaze fell upon Marshall. "Oh! You must be Recherché."
Rarity stepped aside so her mother could approach Marshall and give him a hug. Since it had been unexpected, he was unable to respond in kind — even if it would have been awkward — before the she disengaged and regarded him with a smile. "Welcome to our home. I'm Cookie Crumbles, but you can call me 'mom.'"
Marshall could only look on with a dumbstruck expression on his face as Rarity stared at her mother with a cocked eyebrow and said, "Really, mother?"
Undeterred, Cookie Crumbles sidled up beside Marshall so she could hug him from the side and face her daughter at the same time. "Of course! For helping my baby, the least I can do is offer a home away from home." Before Rarity could make a comment about being a grown pony that could take care of herself, she added, "Now, you two find a seat at the table while I go and get your sister."
After she left, Marshall simply stood in place, befuddled by what had just happened. While the ponies that he had encountered thus far had been rather accepting of him in general, he'd never known anyone to be so open as to accept someone into their family for such a minor — as he perceived it — effort. The gesture made him feel a little strange, even as he felt a bit touched about being on the receiving end of it.
Rarity didn't give him the opportunity to really dwell on what had happened, though, because she got his attention before directing him toward the broad side of the table that was farthest from the kitchen. Once he had seated himself next to Rarity and got himself comfortable, he quickly noticed that he had a view of the kitchen, through the cased opening that connected the two rooms. The first thing that he noticed was the white-coated stallion who had short, brown hair, and it looked like he was attending to something in front of a stove. With his back facing him, he could just make out the white point behind his mane, which he assumed was a horn. The next thing that caught his attention was the sound of something sizzling. Since he didn't know many vegetable dishes that were fried, and figured that a race of herbivores would have created a lot of them, he could only wonder what it was he was going to be served.
When the stallion — who he assumed was Rarity's father — turned his head to glance at something that was hidden by the wall, he saw that he had a mustache, bushy eyebrows and blue eyes. The mustache caught his attention, even though he had seen a few at the party yesterday, because he still thought that they looked odd on a pony. If evolution was relevant to ponies, he had to wonder how facial hair had come about, since most didn't seem to have it. He supposed that they could be shaving their facial hair, but it probably required magic to shave it without taking their coat with it, and he could only imagine how inconvenient that would be when only one type of pony had the magic to do it. Then again, how in the world could one grow so much facial hair where one's coat also grew?
Maybe he was just over-thinking it: everything did look like a cartoon, after all. Perhaps things of a nonsensical nature were to be expected.
Rarity's father noticed him and Rarity out of the corner of his eye, who turned his body ninety degrees so he could address them properly. "Well, hey there, girls! Dinner will be ready in just a sec!"
As Rarity's father returned his attention to whatever he was cooking, Rarity leaned closer to Marshall and helpfully supplied, "That's my father, Hondo Flanks."
After Marshall acknowledged that, he spent a few seconds considering Hondo Flanks' cutie mark, which consisted of three footballs, as that was all the time that he'd had to do so before Cookie Crumbles and Sweetie Belle made an appearance. While the former returned to the kitchen, the latter was all smiles as she took the seat on the narrow end of the table that was closest to Rarity. Sweetie Belle only had her eyes set on her older sister as she proceeded to enthusiastically inform her about her progress, regarding the various things that she was learning to make for her, so she didn't seem to notice him right away.
Before long, Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks entered the dining room while levitating the entirety of their meal, which they laid out upon the table before they took the seats opposite of himself and Rarity. He looked down at the contents of his plate, and that of the bowl above and to the right of it, then checked — and confirmed — that everyone had been served the same thing, and couldn't decide what to question more: the fish, the charcoaled-looking sticks that shared the plate with the aforementioned fish, or the greyish liquid that burbled viscously in the bowl.
His attention had been on the bowl when Rarity checked on him, who looked on with distaste as she tactfully said, "Yes, despite their rather... unique appearances, the taste and nutritional value of the original products haven't changed."
Before Marshall could ask any questions about it, Hondo Flanks looked in his direction and blithely commented, "Rarity used to help her mother prepare food like this all the time, you know. She had a real knack for it."
"Really?" Sweetie Belle squeaked in wide-eyed surprise, who began to look at her older sister as if seeing her for the first time.
Marshall observed Rarity out of the corner of his eye. He saw that her ears were folded down, and that the expression on her face was one of a fear realized, a fear that she had probably hoped wouldn't happen. He didn't know whether to be amused, concerned, or to take advantage of the situation in order to learn more about what made her tick, which could help him figure out what her original plan had been, and/or why she worked as hard as she did.
With a nostalgic sigh, Cookie Crumbles placed a hoof upon her cheek and spoke as she recalled bygone days. "Then she reached that age when children enter a rebellious phase, and she never grew out of it..."
Rarity groaned and covered her eyes with her hooves. "Mother, that wasn't a rebellious phase."
While Marshall was tempted to find out more about Rarity's past, which seemed possible even without his input, he decided to follow up on what he had decided to do at the front door a few minutes ago. He had gotten something out of it, after all, so there was probably a chance of learning more so long as he was respectful of her feelings and offered his support when she needed it. Besides which, he had some experience with having an embarrassing part of one's past revealed to practical strangers, so he could empathize.
With that in mind, he interjected by clearing his throat and saying, "Actually, I was more surprised that we're having fish. I thought ponies were herbivores."
"We are," Rarity replied, who regarded him with a grateful expression, "but it's alright to have some fish in our diet, and we thought that you'd like a more balanced meal."
"You see," Hondo Flanks began his explanation, who — despite the subject matter — spoke as if he were talking about the weather, even though he technically was, "a long time ago, back when the Windigos froze the land and made it difficult for Earth Ponies to grow food and all that, our ancestors had to find another source of nourishment. Desperation eventually led to the eating of fish, which were plentiful and unaffected by the cold weather, and that's how they became an optional part of our diet."
Since he had yet to encounter any of the dangers of the universe that he was in, Marshall couldn't help asking, "What are Windigos?"
Sweetie Belle eagerly rose to the task of telling him what they were: spirits that fed on hatred and fighting, who made the environment around them colder in proportion to the amount that they consumed. While Sweetie Belle spoke, he decided to start on his meal before it could get cold, beginning with the fish. It had been a while since he had eaten any fish, canned tuna aside, but the filet of pan-fried fish was enjoyable on its own merits: while he wasn't sure what kind of fish he was eating, it was nonetheless tasty, and it had only been enhanced with a good combination of butter, lemon juice and seasonings.
After Sweetie Belle finished telling him how the Windigos had been driven out of Equestria, Cookie Crumbles had chimed in and told him about Hearth's Warming Eve, since it celebrated what had arisen from that event, with the others contributing to the subject as well. The holiday reminded him of Christmas in some ways, which had — in turn — reminded him of what he had found out about his middle name. Mentioning that to Rarity while it was on his mind, and thus the table at large, had begun his own turn at being a teacher. He had to be vague about certain details, like the Pagan influences, since he didn't know much about that aspect of the holiday, but he was fairly confident that he had done a decent job of explaining the two main figures. Between Christ and Santa Claus, however, he had noticed that the latter had made the most impact on Rarity, who'd had a strange look in her eyes as she remarked, "Too bad he isn't real."
From there, conversation drifted to topics that seemed to be more at home at a family's dinner table. Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks were rather easygoing and frank, drawing him into a conversation when they could, and he was kind of amazed at how easily they had accepted him as a part of their family. While Sweetie Belle didn't seem to mind him in that regard, Rarity had given hints of reservation but didn't seem to be against the idea. He figured that her reservation stemmed from the fact that there would come a day when he wouldn't return, and thus didn't want to get too attached. However, for all that he knew, he could just be projecting his own concerns onto her.
He finished his meal in the meantime, which had been an interesting experience. The portion that had looked like charcoaled sticks had smelled much like they had looked, and had felt much the same in his mouth, but — surprisingly enough — they had tasted great. In fact, they had reminded him of Little Ceasars' Crazy Bread. The "soup" in the bowl had tasted like a salad, which included croutons and a vinegar-based dressing, but its consistency had nearly made it necessary to suppress his gag reflex. Apparently, food that was prepared to lack everything but substance was a type of "fancy" cooking. It was weird, to be sure, but he was beginning to get accustomed to learning about such things.
Of course, some topics had inevitably strayed back to Rarity's youth, although most of them hadn't been a source of embarrassment for her. One of the few exceptions, at least as far as Rarity had been concerned, was that she had once been a bit of a tomcolt. In addition to learning "fancy" cooking from her mother, she had enjoyed physical activities with her father. Plus, much like she was in the present, Rarity had been interested in finding gems, which often required plenty of exploration and physical exertion, leading to her getting dirty and/or roughed up when all was said and done. In Rarity's own defense of her younger self, though, she had been inexperienced and lacked certain skills at the time.
That particular conversation hadn't ended there, however, because Sweetie Belle had asked her older sister if that had anything to do with how she had done so well during the Sisterhooves Social race. After reluctantly admitting that past experiences might have contributed to her performance that day, Rarity was quick to latch onto his question, when he had asked what the Sisterhooves Social was all about. He didn't know what she was so worried about, though, since Sweetie Belle seemed to like what she had heard about her older sister. He decided that it was something that he would have to think about later.
Talk extended beyond the consumption of dinner, but he hadn't noticed it until Cookie Crumbles began to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. It was getting somewhat late by then, yet it was with some reluctance that he told his hosts that he had to leave, even though he had reserved some time for Twilight Sparkle before returning to his own world and body. So, after some farewells, a promise to not be a stranger, and generally being made to feel welcome to return at any time, he set out for Twilight Sparkle's castle.
Along the way, he couldn't help smiling faintly as he thought about his experience with Rarity's family. Even before the rough patch in his parents' marriage, he couldn't remember feeling that connected to a group of people before, even despite just being introduced to them. Things just hadn't been the same after his parents had reconciled, and then he'd had to find a place of his own because of his job's location, so he might have been more susceptible than normal to such a strong familial atmosphere. Either way, it had been an enjoyable experience, so he would probably take them up on their offer to make a return visit someday.
If nothing else, it might provide him with more insight into Rarity's situation.
When Marshall entered the castle, he noticed Spike sitting against one of the pilasters near the door, reading what appeared to be a comic book. Either due to his interest in what he was reading, or what his drowsy-looking expression might indicate about his mental status, Spike didn't notice him until he closed the door, which spurred him to get up and approach him, closing his comic book in the process.
Thinking that he may have returned later than he had thought, he apologetically said, "Sorry for being late. I kinda lost track of the time."
"Don't worry about it," Spike replied, who failed to suppress a yawn when he came to a stop in front of Marshall. "I was going to read this," he made a gesture with the comic book that was in his grasp, "in bed, anyway."
"Come on," he continued, turning aside and making a beckoning motion with his free claw before beginning to walk toward the destination that he had in mind. "Twilight asked me to show you to her room, since something came up and she couldn't wait for you in yours."
As Marshall began to follow Twilight Sparkle's little helper, he inquired, "What happened?"
"Beats me," Spike replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. "She almost forgot about you when she ran off, after reading the last letter that came from Princess Luna. She seemed really excited, though, so it's probably nothing to worry about."
They continued to walk along in silence for a time, until Marshall could no longer hold in his curiosity. "So, uh... If you don't mind me asking: what are you, exactly?"
"I'm a dragon," Spike proudly stated.
While that had been one of the possibilities that Marshall had been thinking of, despite Spike's size and lack of intimidating features, it still surprised him a bit to know that dragons existed. "Wow, really? We — humans, I mean — know of dragons, but on my world they're either myth or fiction." After a second of consideration, he decided to follow that up with another question. "Are you a young dragon?"
"That's right," Spike admitted, before looking over his shoulder and slyly adding, "but dragons mature fast, so don't treat me like a kid, alright?"
"Sure thing," Marshall replied, noticing how Spike seemed pleased with himself after his answer.
A few steps later, Spike asked, "So, did you freak out when you became a pony?"
"Not really," Marshall replied, as he thought back on his first moments as a pony, aside from the initial period that was nothing more than a hazy and confusing memory. "Even though I hadn't believed Rarity at first, it helped to know what she had told me once that changed. For the most part, though, I was relieved that what she had said was true, since hearing a voice I couldn't explain was kind of, well... worrisome." Then, upon realizing that Spike's question seemed a bit out of place, he inquired, "Why do you ask?"
Spike turned his head aside, so Marshall could no longer see the side of his face from his vantage point, and evasively said, "I was just wondering."
Marshall looked at him dubiously, but didn't make an issue out of it.
A few minutes later, after ascending into a higher level of the castle than where his guest bedroom could be found, they arrived at a door that was located at the end of a hallway. When Spike rapped upon it, they both heard the muffled voice of Twilight Sparkle, who called out, "Come in!"
While the bleary-eyed dragon parted ways with him, Marshall needed to gather some of his nerves before opening the door and lightly stepping into Twilight Sparkle's bedroom. He'd always felt a bit weird when it came to being in someone else's bedroom, in part because it was a private area and he didn't want to see anything that the owner wouldn't want him to, but he was especially feeling nervous and out of place in this one, since Twilight Sparkle was royalty. Sure, she didn't want him to perceive her that way, outside of occasions where observing formalities were expected, but he had a hard time separating her from her title when he had to worry about respecting such a personal space.
The room in question didn't have much in the way of things to worry about, though: it didn't have that much more of a lived-in look than the guest bedroom that he had been provided with for the extent of his stay. Aside from a canopy bed and the nightstand that accompanied it, there was a long, two-shelf bookcase full of books, a telescope, and two types of windows — neither of which were a match to the kind that was in his own room. Above the bookcase was a hanging lamp, which shone light upon a mirror and several framed pictures that hung on the wall with it, along with the ones that stood on their easel backs on top of the bookcase.
As tempting as it was to look at those pictures, he forced his attention toward Twilight Sparkle, who was standing at an open window and staring through the eyepiece of the telescope. She appeared to be engrossed with whatever she was looking at, so he wasn't sure if he should approach her or not, or if he should say anything just yet.
Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle thought that the source of her interest was worth sharing, because she eventually regarded him with a look of excitement and suggested, "Come and have a look!"
Since he saw no reason not to, he made his way over to the telescope and carefully drew an eye to the eyepiece, not wanting to accidentally bump into anything and lose sight of whatever the telescope was being directed at. What he saw was a comet with two very distinct tails, with the dust tail a snow white and the gas tail an electric blue. He didn't know what was so exciting about the comet, but he did think that it was pretty cool, partly because it was his first time getting a good look at one in its natural environment, rather than seeing it from a photographic image.
"That's Pandora," Twilight Sparkle helpfully informed him, when he finished looking at the aforementioned comet. "Arguably the longest-known comet in recorded history. Due to its erratic movements we never know exactly when it will appear next, so I didn't even expect to see it during my lifetime." She turned to look out the window, in the direction of the comet, and cheerfully added, "Oh, I can't wait for it to get closer! There haven't been many opportunities to study it, so I'm hoping we can learn more about it before it leaves."
Thinking that a part of what she had said had been odd, Marshall decided to inquire about it. "In this universe, comets don't follow orbits?"
Twilight Sparkle stared at him blankly for a second before she realized what the problem was, at which point she turned a bit sheepish. "Oh, no: most do — have an orbit, I mean. Pandora's the only exception, as far as anypony knows. However, the earliest records of its behavior suggests that it used to have a predictable orbit."
Intrigued, in part because the comet was only the second thing that wasn't a mystery to him alone since his arrival on Twilight Sparkle's world, he asked, "Really? Any theories on why that changed?"
With a shrug of her shoulders, Twilight Sparkle replied, "Not really. Pandora hasn't been around for observation since long before the time when science began to prevail over superstition."
"Oh?" Marshall voiced his curiosity, since he wondered about the kind of superstitions a sapient species would have about comets when the existence of magic was a reality. "When was it last seen? Back in the day, humans usually viewed a comet's presence to mean that something bad was going to happen."
Twilight Sparkle blinked her eyes in mild surprise. "Really?" Upon receiving a nod of confirmation, she went on to say, "It's the opposite for us: we thought that comets brought good fortune, or that good times were coming." Her expression turned thoughtful. "We may have perceived them in a different light than humans because we identified the comets that had a tail and mane as fellow ponies — in a fashion." She tilted her head up and to the side, as her thoughts took another turn. "You know, now that I think about it, the last time that Pandora could be seen with the naked eye was around the time of Discord's defeat at the hooves of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna..."
When that line of thought didn't seem to lead anywhere, she shook her head and refocused her attention on Marshall. "Anyway, you didn't come here to talk about comets." Her horn lit up, and a book flew from the bookcase and stopped between them. "Here you go. The spell you're going to learn starts on page forty-two. Ordinarily, I'd have you start with a primer on magic theory, reference and history books, and a regimen of exercises at the very least, but I realized that you don't really have the time for that." She smiled wryly and added, "That, and this is a fairly easy spell, which I suspect you'll have a knack for."
Marshall made to take the book being offered to him, but his inexperience with interacting with another's magic field caused him to lose his hold on it. Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle was quick to catch it, who was happy to make an impromptu lesson out of what had happened. Once Marshall had gotten the hang of using his magic field more dynamically while interacting with another's, Twilight Sparkle offered her bed to study on, which he accepted with some reservation.
After lying down on his belly and getting himself comfortable, Twilight Sparkle told him to call for her if he needed anything before returning to the telescope. So, he proceeded to open the book and skip to the desired page, where he found a "memory projection" spell. The spell pretty much did as it was named: the user focused on a memory — the fresher the better — and channeled it through one's horn, in a way that was likened to a movie projector. By default, the memory had to be projected onto something, but someone could project it onto their magic field if they had enough skill when it came to the manipulation of it.
The next thing that he noticed was the reason for why such a relatively easy spell required over a dozen pages: whether it was because the spell was easy or not, there were a multitude of ways for someone to successfully cast the spell. By the time that he'd read half of them, he got the impression that it wasn't so much that the spell could be done in any one of those ways by anyone, but that some may be easier than others for certain ponies, or — in some cases — the only way for a pony to cast the spell.
As interesting as that was, though, he had a spell to learn, so he could return home with enough time for Rarity, some research, and whatever memories he'd have ready for the spell before he had to go to work. It took some experimentation to find a method that worked well for him, but he eventually got the image of the comet that he'd seen a few minutes ago projected onto a wall: all he'd had to do was visualize, with his mind's eye, a chalkboard where only what he wrote on it — which he got from the book's instruction — became a reality in conjunction with the application of magic, rather than at the behest of any thought that he happened to have at the time.
The projection didn't last long, nor his rising excitement at casting an actual spell, because his focus was interrupted by Twilight Sparkle, who suddenly exclaimed, "Wow!" She continued to express her surprise as she made her way over to the bed. "I was expecting you to learn the spell quicker than a novice, but succeeding this soon is amazing."
Marshall turned his head away for a moment and modestly said, "I think you can attribute most of that to the spell itself. Because of how easy it seems to be, and how the book doesn't cater to a certain standard, I figured that the book wasn't simply giving options."
"You're right," Twilight Sparkle confirmed, with a single nod of her head. "Magic performance is dependent on several factors. While knowledge, focus and determination can help the vast majority of unicorns to cast a spell successfully, assuming that they have enough magic for it, the difficulty is generally determined by the characteristics of their magic, horn, and — later — their special talent."
As interesting as that was, Marshall didn't want to keep Rarity waiting or lose too much free time between that and work, so he closed the book and reluctantly said, "Well, as much as I'd like to stay and learn more about magic, I should probably get going."
Twilight Sparkle nodded her head in understanding and sent the book back from whence it had come. "Of course. But, before you go, can I ask you something?"
After Marshall got down from the bed, he replied, "Sure."
"Well," Twilight Sparkle began, who was unable to completely hide the hopeful expectation from entering her voice and eyes, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having more company in your head when it's convenient for you? I learned from Princess Luna that the spell that I had crafted for Rarity was compatible with her dream-linking spell, since I had used her spell as its basis, and I was hoping that I could see your world for myself."
Marshall blinked his eyes as he digested her request, partly because he had to wonder how difficult it had been to make a new spell compared to the one that he had just cast, which — for the most part — hadn't demanded much beyond mental discipline. "Sure. Other than spending more time here this weekend, I didn't have anything else planned."
Twilight Sparkle brightened upon hearing that. "Great!"
"So, uh," Marshall began, as he turned aside to leave, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." After taking a few steps toward the door, however, he realized that he wasn't quite sure how to find his way back to his room. He hadn't been all that confident about his mental mapping in the first place, but his most recent activities had allowed a blank spot to form in his memory.
"Is something the matter?" Twilight Sparkle asked Marshall, when he stopped in midstep.
"Um," Marshall voiced, as he ducked his head in embarrassment, "I might need help finding my room..."
Understanding his plight, it was with a measure of sympathy that Twilight Sparkle said, "Oh, I see." After some thought, she gestured toward her bed and suggested, "Well, if you want, you can use my bed."
Marshall regarded her with an uncertain expression on his face. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't think a night on the floor will be all that bad."
Slightly amused by his reservation, Twilight Sparkle replied, "I don't mind. There's plenty of room, and I'll be up a bit longer to study the comet, anyway."
"Well, if you're sure..." Marshall yielded, since he didn't see anything to gain from arguing.
While Twilight Sparkle went back to the telescope, he returned to her bed and opted for a spot at the foot of it, where he would be out of her way. Once he was settled and comfortable, and had put out of his mind how friendly and accommodating certain ponies were, he laid his head down, closed his eyes and moved his consciousness back into his human body.
After assisting Rarity with her research, Marshall looked for things on the Internet that he couldn't go to see personally, whether due to issues with time, distance, money or some other obstacle. For the most part, what came to mind were things that would likely interest Twilight Sparkle the most: stuff about the solar system, feats of engineering, some notable parts of history, and modern technology that seemed to be worth mentioning. For Pinkie Pie, he left his house an hour before he had to start his shift at work, so he could browse the shops — which he knew of — that specialized in selling or producing certain goods, such as candy, chocolate and baked treats. Then, he went to the supermarket where he was employed and browsed some things there before he had to clock in at the deli.
While at work, he avoided some of the usual tedium of the job by thinking about his time as Recherché, as well as his experiences with certain ponies. He was kind of amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to being a pony, despite how much he had tried to put the new body out of his mind, but he supposed that he had that sympathetic resonance to thank for that. Still, once he had really thought about it, he had to admit that it didn't really bother him to be a pony — not even the fact that he was a female one.
That last part was harder to explain, but he did have some ideas about it. The most obvious was that it hadn't really affected him much, personally or socially. For the most part, his issues stemmed from how he had been brought up, rather than being faced with situations where overtly feminine behaviors were expected of him. Then, there was the fact that he was being made to feel welcome and accepted, probably because certain ponies really wanted things to work out well. He desired the same thing, which was why he was so willing to be cooperative and accommodating, so he figured that he probably shouldn't be all that surprised at how well he had been adapting to the situation.
When all was said and done, though, there wasn't much that could drive him away from the opportunity of using magic, in addition to the possibility of being able to fly again. Plus, even though he was a bit uncomfortable with how friendly some of the ponies had been, since — from personal experience — it was kind of unreal, it was welcome nonetheless. There was no doubt that it was better than all of the hours that he usually spent alone, and the arm's-length relationships that he had with most people.
After work, but before assuming the guise of Recherché, the only notable event had been the message that his mother had left on his answering machine. Apparently, his sister, Meg, was going to visit his parents and stay for the weekend. His mother had wanted to inform him of it in case he wanted to see her in person, since his sister could only manage such a visit two or three times a year, due to living over a thousand miles away.
His relationship with his sister was lukewarm, so he had been unsure if he would be willing to sacrifice some of his time in the other universe for her. After some consideration, he had chosen to leave the possibility open but express the likelihood that prior arrangements might get in the way. It was true enough, so he hadn't felt guilty about saying that to his mother — which he had delivered via text message, since she would have likely been in bed at the time. On a whim, he had also asked for one of his grandmother's casserole recipes, because he felt like returning the kindness that he had received from Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks.
When he opened his eyes as Recherché, he wasn't surprised to find himself alone in Twilight Sparkle's bedroom. He was, however, surprised to find himself tucked under the covers at the head of her bed. With a slight smile and shake of his head, he left the bed's comfy confines. After tidying it up, he headed for the door, wondering if "go down" would be a good enough strategy for finding his way to the dining room.
In front of the door, he immediately noticed a piece of rolled-up parchment lying on the floor. Since "Recherché" was written on the outside, he picked it up, broke the seal and pulled it open. As it turned out, it hadn't needed any help in showing him its contents, because the deceptively-small parchment unrolled to the floor, where it proceeded to bounce and roll along the ground nearly far enough for it to reach one of the room's walls. Baffled by that in more ways than one, he began to read the message that had been left to him, hoping that it would reveal what was going on with the size of its medium.
The longer that he read it, however, the farther his jaw slackened, and his eyes widened, in awe and disbelief. There was no doubt that what he had were directions, to get him to his destination from his current location. However, there was so much redundancy from taking into account any possible error in following said directions, how to recognize the error, and how to correctly proceed from there, that he wouldn't be surprised if most — if not all — of the castle was being referenced.
He didn't know Twilight Sparkle well enough to know if she were playing a joke on him, or if he had just experienced a particularly strange quirk of hers, or what, so it took him a moment to get his mind in gear to figure out his next course of action. Eventually, glancing at one of the windows made him wish that he could fly again, since he could find his way to the dining room from the castle's main entrance. That's when a thought struck him: hadn't he — Rarity, technically — carried himself into that backroom yesterday?
Despite having flown at reckless speeds yesterday, as well as crashing plenty while he had been learning how to fly, he still felt nervous after opening one of the windows and peering over its sill. Eventually, though, he was able to steel himself and follow through with his idea. It was only after hovering near the window sill for a moment, to make sure he had something to grab onto in case his idea turned out to be a bad one, that he proceeded with confidence and eased himself to the ground at a sedate pace.
Upon landing, it was with a bounce in his step that he entered the castle and found his way to the dining room. Waiting for him there was Spike, who had prepared a meal for him yet again. After thanking him for it, he ate his meal at a slightly-hurried pace, since he wanted to start helping Rarity on time for once. He was still able to enjoy the food, even though half of it would have normally been a part of a horse's diet on his world, rather than a human's.
Once he was finished eating, and told by Spike that he would handle the plate and cup that he had dirtied, he set out to Rarity's place at a good canter. However, it wasn't long after he had left the castle that he was stopped by the kind of voice that he associated with a stereotypical witch, as its owner yelled, "Excuse me! Young lady!"
He paused and looked for the source of the voice. What he found was an old, Earth Pony mare standing just outside of a house, with the front door wide open, who had a dark blue coat, white hair and dark green eyes. She looked familiar, and it took a second for him to realize that she had been the pony that he had waved to from the tree yesterday.
Since her attention appeared to be on him, and he was in a sparsely-populated part of the town, he assumed that the "young lady" that she had called out to was him. After crossing the distance that separated them, he asked, "Yes?"
"I'm sorry for bothering you, dear," the old mare began, "but I was hoping that you could help me. You see, I want to send a bottle of cider to my son, as a gift, but I'm not as spry as I used to be and I fear I'll have an accident."
Just to make sure that what she was asking was clear to him, Marshall inquired, "So, you just want me to get that cider for you?" Upon receiving a nod of confirmation, he said, "Okay; show me where it is."
The old mare smiled with gratitude. "Oh, thank you so much! Here; it's this way..."
She led him to the living room, where a simple rug had been pulled away, revealing a trapdoor that was already open. When he stood close enough to the opening to stare into the murky depths of the cellar, and didn't take any immediate action, the old mare came up beside him and asked, "Is something the matter, dear?"
Marshall didn't want to try walking down stairs in the dark, at least without some form of reliable help, so he turned to the old mare and answered with a question of his own. "Is there a light?"
"Of course," the old mare replied, before helpfully supplying, "The light cord is near the landing. You can't miss it with the light of your horn."
Marshall blinked his eyes at that, then raised his gaze upward and called forth the aura that surrounded his horn whenever he was using magic. He hadn't noticed that it gave off any light, probably because he'd usually been in well-lit environments, but he guessed that the idea stood to reason since he could see it. With a bit of a mental push, he found out that he could even make it brighter, to the point where he could tell a difference in how far down the stairs he could see.
With a slight grin, he began his descent down the stairs, which turned out to be rather uneventful. However, once the hanging light bulb was on, and he could see the contents of the cellar better, it wasn't long before he noticed a problem: an obvious location for a bottle of cider to be stored. All he could see was a number of cobwebs, a tall, backless bookcase that was empty save for a few unknown objects, a couple of smallish boxes, and the dust that covered it all. He supposed that the cider could have been stored in a box, but — by the looks of things — he doubted it.
Right as he was beginning to feel that there was something strange about the situation, he heard an odd sound behind him, which was followed by the room being bathed in a green light. Unsure of what to expect, since he didn't know much about the world or the ponies in Ponyville, but hoping that it wasn't anything to worry about, he looked behind himself as calmly as he could manage.
What he saw was a green pillar of... something rising up from the ground, splashing against the joists and floorboards above. When it dissipated, his initial reaction was to stiffen in fright when a large, pony-like creature revealed itself. It had a dark body, lanky, teal hair, green eyes, some kind of ornament on her head, and a wicked-looking horn. What set it apart from the other ponies that he had seen so far, though, were the canine teeth, insect-like wings, the odd coloration and features across its back and around its barrel, and the holes above its hooves but below the knees and hocks.
However, it wasn't its appearance that had him cowering and shaking, with his ears pinned to his skull as he stared at it with wide eyes, wishing that he was back home: it was the malicious grin on its face, and how the creature began to loom over him with its superior size.
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Would it strand him in Equestria , and in the pony body?
ah, that spell.
i.ytimg.com/vi/kZl0omiBGrE/maxresdefault.jpg
I like this. That gets you your third bonus point.
7485927 Whatever you do, don't hope for the worst!
7486398 That would be correct. The spotlight signal used in Bats! is also related.
7486402 Can I redeem these bonus points for goodies, or what? XD;;
7486859 I'll have to think about that.
Why... Why is every god damn author that writes good stuff always an evil evil son of a beach.... Why the cliffhangers, the spirit of knowledge does it star eater does it evergreen heart does it. I just hope the next chapter comes out sooner rather then later.
7485927
That's just it. When he goes to sleep, he returns to Earth. If he gets put in a pod to sleep, the body won't have a conscious mind in it. To the changeling, it'll be as if the pony was in a coma. Heck, the changeling might think she caused the coma somehow. Whoops!
Assuming that's how it works. I can see it working in his favor. When Rarity or Twilight comes peeking into Earth through his eyes, they'll find out what happened pretty quick when he tells on the silly bugpone.
7488440 Authors that write bad stuff use cliffhangers, too. Like me.
Anyway, this story really isn't made for these kinds of cliffhangers. I just wanted to do something unconventional at the beginning of the next chapter, which no one will probably like whether they grasped the tone of the story or not. The scene also just happens to be in a convenient place for removal, depending on what happens in the next episode of the show.
I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner. I'm not a good writer, or confident in my portrayal of the characters, so it takes me a lot of time to find the words, phrasing, behavior and reactions that I can live with, among other things that slow the process down.
Screw future canon. Once you post a chapter just let it be. Also would have loved for him to like get along with them, heck, he doesn't know what a Changling is.
7499823 Well, obviously, just being a fan-fiction writer assumes a certain lack of courtesy/respect for the reality of the show. I'm just the kind of person who would rather not contradict or throw out canon if it can be helped, even if the canon in question hasn't been firmly established yet.
Fortunately, what the show seems to be doing with the Changelings doesn't really contradict what I want to do, and it's using an idea -- and suggesting another -- where I'd write what I had planned anyway.
7500150 well if you look at some of the best fanfic they were written seasons ago, I'm just saying that you don't have to follow the newest canon or update your story after it was written. Especially if what is canon doesn't mesh with the world your building, fanfic is inherently non canon so what makes sense for your world may not be 100% show material.
7500462 I know what you're saying, and I enjoy plenty of stories that don't hold themselves to canon all that much, but it's my personal approach as a writer — for the most part. It's easy to do whatever you want in order to accomplish what you want to happen, and it's perfectly fine if others take that route, but I like creating new things out of the old, rather than simply adding news things. It can be a challenge, but it can also make things interesting, as well as be a learning experience. (Take what I did with the fish, for instance, which started with the analogy of the spell that's crucial to the nature of the story.)
Was able to come back to this story again and glad I did at this point :3 things are really heating up now >:D
7502880 Don't get your hopes up for anything interesting.
I'm always baffled by people who care so much about canon. I don't judge a story for its ability to adapt to new episodes, and I don't think anyone else does either.
7618067 Well, it's always fun when a story proves deft enough to dodge Jossing, but it's not crucial to enjoyment.
Heh. Glad to see the parents already want to adopt him!