Lost in Paradise

by leeroy_gIBZ

Measurements: Part 1

Well, that was the most bizarrely boring dinner that I have ever had the deep misfortune of attending. Yes, I have finally found an incident to trump that wretched Form 2 prize giving. Prince Imaginos was apparently rather fond of public speaking. So fond, in fact, that he decided to subject the entire population of Colteno - the city where I now live - to an hour long speech about how great the Protection Squadron is. So there we all sat, fantasising about devouring our dinners and or collapsing into bed, while our glorious leader went on and on how pathetic the enemy was and how amazing his personal army slash thought police was for annihilating them. Eventually it had got to the point in which another pony - this one bearing a pair of wings surprisingly - had to sneak up on stage and remind him that the food was getting cold.

In retrospect, this was fairly mediocre decision; the food we had all be desperately praying for turned out to be nothing more than an MRE on plate. For those who did not grow up with a marine as a father, the MRE is an ingenious delicacy comprised of only the most inedible ingredients which are intended to be boiled in a bag and eaten on the go. The acronym stands for either "Meals, Ready to Eat" or "Meals, Rarely Edible" depending on your tastes. I fell in to the latter category. Sour Sweet kindly explained; by kindly I mean telling me that it "was an act of solidarity with the stallions abroad" and that I "should shut my face before [she] pins it closed with a fork". To the Prince's credit though, he actually did eat his portion. I almost think that he enjoyed too.

Anyway, after the dinner was done, a mint green unicorn with a short purple mane pulled me aside and began to start yet another conversation that I doubted I wanted to participate in.

"Ah, Mirage, I thought that you'd left for Horsica already." The unicorn said before trying to call one of her friends over.

"What? No, I'm not going to Corsica. I just got here, actually. It's a long story." I responded.

Alright, it wasn't a particularly long story but I would not explain it right now. I would rather just go about acquiring another glass of wine.

"Oh, you told me last week that Prince Imaginos had assigned you to go there by the teleporter that he was working on." She said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"The teleporter malfunctioned. Now, if you excuse me, I need another glass of wine." I said, trying to slip back into the crowd of ponies leaving the hall.

"Wine? Are you sure that you're alright, dearie? I thought you said that you hated wine." The unicorn inquired after adjusting the flower in her hair.

"Yeah, I'm not feeling alright, Sunny; I think that I'll turn in early." I answered, immediately hoping that my guess to this pony's identity was correct. I would rather not have to explain that faux pas.

"Alright then, I had just hoped that since are staying for a few more days that you could help me with something." Sunny said, that hint from before becoming a large glowing neon sign.

"Fine. I suppose I can. After all, I would like to keep my ears."

A look of horror crossed Sunny Flare's face as her friend finally arrived. "Do not tell me that you actually believed Sour Sweet's ridiculous story!"

"Am I interrupting anything?" Inquired Sunny's friend who most certainly was.

"Yes but you cannot possibly make this day worse so go ahead."

"Sure", the bespectacled unicorn chuckled slightly before he continued, "My name is Eureka Lead and I am the official tailor of the Protection Squadron but I think you know that already."

I did not already know that.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mirage Nocturne, my dear apprentice here has told me so much about you." Lead said before throwing a quick glare at Sunny.

"Yes, well, I may slightly oversold him, Mr Lead." She said, blushing slightly.

"Nonsense, one does not simply oversell the apprentice of Prince Imaginos himself. Now, I must ask you, Mirage: Are you a jersey pony or a cardigan pony?"

Why can't this be a dream? It would make such a wonderful dream; it has talking animals, trippy colours, and the weirdest of situations.

"I prefer cardigans." I answered, hoping that he was not going to insist on making me one then and there.

"Excellent! Sunny, let's escort Mr Nocturne to the shop, I feel a flash of inspiration coming on."

Damn it.

---

"Perhaps a navy blue will work?" Sunny Flare suggested as a glowing magenta measuring tape wrapped itself around my thigh - flank? - and a pencil shimmering in the same hue scrawled something on a scrap of paper.

Apparently this "magical hand" business is called levitation and luckily, it is something that all unicorns can do. Unluckily, said unicorns must be taught from childhood to do it. I wonder how Pony Edition is getting on with my hands. Hopefully he is not also getting off with them; I run through an awful lot of soap as is.

"A wise choice, Miss Flare, I do believe that I have some of that here." Lead muttered as a sheet of dark blue material floated its way over to her. Personally, I thought that that particular shade of blue was more like a Paceian blue but what do I know? I am only an art student.

"I think that's Paceian blue, Mr Lead." Sunny corrected before swirling the tape measure around one of my front legs.

"Oh yes, of course. You must excuse me, Mirage, I have been terribly busy with the last batch of PS uniforms. Leather is such a novel medium; you know there are no guides for it so I have to do all the development on my own. Still, the results are impressive, if I do say so myself."

"So what is this all for anyway? I think that I have enough clothes."

At that statement, Sunny collapsed. I quickly reached out to catch her but she was enveloped in a deep silver glow before I could get to her. As she slowly bobbed up and down, I noticed a tingle on the top of my head.

"And here you said that you had no talent for levitation, Mirage. Just deposit her on that couch; she should wake up in a minute or so." Lead advised as he used a pair of scissors to gesture to a couch half-buried under a multicoloured mountain of material.

So this is what magic feels like. Trying not to forget that I was the one doing all of this, I thought hard about Sunny appearing on the target couch. After pushing those memories of Titanic out of my mind and concentrating of the pony edition of Sunny Flare, the glow slowly carried her to the couch and then dissipated.

"Thank you, Mirage. And to answer your question, Horsica gets extremely cold during the, well, all of the months. As part of Sunny Flare's apprenticeship, she has to sew a few winter outfits. She pleaded to tailor them specifically for all of her friends, you included. So when she noticed you at the banquet, she insisted on putting one together before you had to leave."

What an encouragement. It seems that I am to shipped off to another corner of this peculiar world for some reason. How encouraging for that little part of me that still wants to go home. And by little part, I mean all of it that is not enamoured by my newfound magical skills. So about half.