Chapter 1
Bells rang over his groggy head. A pillow covering the ears, he tried to snuff it out for ten more seconds of peace and the fading memories of a dream.
But he changed his mind. He had to: today was the day. First day of the CHS school year and, therefore, his first day of teaching.
He threw the pillow down and slammed the stupid ringing alarm clock shut.
The pony got himself out of his blanket and landed on the floor. His yellow coat shone under the window-piercing sunlight, revealing his cutie mark: an old chair on his flank.
Speaking of sunlight: he could see the morning sun and the pink horizon heralding its dawn. Glimmers flared on top of the turned-off streetlights, twinkled on the hard asphalt, and shimmered on the neighbors' newly-painted roofs.
Then he smelled his own breath and retched at the stink in his mouth.
“Eyugh!”
Off he cantered to the bathroom, trotting on the wooden floor. He lent his ears to the clippity-clop of his hooves, listening closely. It still had the comic charm of a Saturday morning cartoon.
In the bathroom, his stirring mind thought, Why just brush your teeth? This is the big day! You have to look your best for everyone. That meant taking a shower, and it ended with him coming out in one towel and two manenets; one for the mane, one for the tail.
Delicious was the minty sensation of toothpaste rolling on his teeth and tongue. His parents scolding him to never eat the sacred substance—he snickered at the memory. “But it's so good!” his colt self had protested, but they'd always say no. It's bad for him, they'd said.
The unicorn gazed upon his own face in the mirror. Looking good, but with a brush here and a wash there on the blue mane, a squirted dab of gel then a brush combing it through—looked and felt much better now. Sassy and professional. Hopefully cool and relatable for the students, especially for a youngblood teacher. The teens always got along with the teaching circle’s twenty-somethings.
Something caught his eye.
Standing still and silent, stopped mid-toothbrush, he turned to the picture hung beside the mirror. There, three ponies smiled for the camera as they sat on the couch. It was right before sunset, he recalled.
Written in marker at the corner, where it could do no harm to their faces, were the words, Best of luck to you, Keepie! Love from the bottom of our hearts, Mom & Dad.
The minty foam in his mouth bubbled, fizzling all over his tongue. The photo remained in focus, stringing a yarn of memories back into the pony’s mind.
Keepsake's tenth birthday was fifteen years ago when everyone was still human. It was a simple celebration at home. Fruitcake was being prepared in the kitchen with ten candles placed so delicately that they made a perfect straight line. A stickler for details was Mom that way, which made Dad's suggestion to “just put them in a bundle” a death sentence to her ears.
In the living room, all furniture had been put aside for the kids and their game of musical chairs. Keepsake—little bundle of joy he was—controlled everyone else, switching the stereo on and off to his heart's content, and his friends were rushing around to the chairs like a horde of zombies. There was some weird pleasure found in it—a morbid pleasure—but he was only a child. It was his birthday, so in his mind, it was time for all to have fun his way.
“Come on!” called Mom from the kitchen. “Time for cake!”
Everyone stopped. The still-playing pop song was no match for the promise of sweet fruitcake.
“Cake?!” yelled Keep in excitement as he held on to his stereo.
“Cake it is, sonny!” That was his Dad, busy sprinkling the finished cake in the kitchen.
The game didn’t matter now. Everyone scampered away from the chairs. One fell, but it was just a chair compared to scrumptious fruitcake. Keep didn’t mind unplugging the stereo and returning the chairs to their proper places all by himself. The enticing smell of Mom's one-and-only fruitcake kept him going until he came running into the kitchen, playing catch up with everybody else.
Everyone gathered around the cake. Mom and Dad were there, Dad lighting the candles up one by one. All the other kids stared open-mouthed at the dessert, but with a gesture from Mom, they turned to the real reason for the celebration: Keepsake.
Mom smiled at him with her bubbly grin. “Happy birthday, Keepie!” she sweetly said for the fifth time today. It never got old though.
With all the work done, everyone gathered around the birthday boy and sang the usual happy birthday songs. Afterwards, they put a colorful birthday hat on him and cheered him on for getting this far in life. Keep himself couldn't hold it in. The sheer joy of everyone celebrating his special occasion, the sheer delight of everyone celebrating him.
When they put the hat on him, he could only muster, “Um... ah, thank you, guys! Yeah, it’s v-very fun with all of you... and I'm sure the cake's great too!”
“Of course it’s all great and you… are great!” That was blonde-haired Thistle who chimed in. He was one of Keep’s best friends, the friend who’d watered his lips just by being in the same room as the cake was. “And your Mom’s the best chef too!” he added.
The usual birthday celebration continued. Candles were blown, wishes were said, and cake was eaten on flimsy paper plates. Mom was left to do all the cutting as Dad had to leave; some business work, the children thought. They still had each other to talk to about anything and everything under the sun.
“So, whatcha' gonna do tonight?” asked Spring Bud. His father was semi-famous for being in as many marathons as possible, so the sporty headband on Bud’s head said a lot about his athletic dreams.
Keep slowly chewed on his slice before answering, “Um, I dunno'! I heard my uncle's bringing the whole family to some fancy five-star restaurant out of town!”
“Hah! I knew it!” shouted Bud, pointing a finger at him. “You got a rich uncle! I won!”
The slice raced down Keep’s throat before he replied. “You... won?”
“It's a bet I made with Dovetail!” Bud explained coolly. “That's what they do in casinos, right? Betting on random stuff and horse races and then getting all the money?”
Keep slowly wiped his mouth with a sleeve. “Um, Buddy… how come you know they bet at casinos? Isn't that a bad thing?”
Bud shot a weird face at him. “Oh, but how come you know they bet at casinos?”
“Well, there was this movie Dad liked a lot. Some guy wanted to steal money from a casino, so—“
Hard footsteps rocked the floor.
Everyone turned to Dad. He’d just returned, sweaty and out of breath, eyes darting. He held his phone in a death grip.
“Honey, what's wrong?” Mom asked. Her earlier cheeriness had vanished.
“It's...” He tried to say it, but he waved his arm around instead. “Just close all the windows and lock the front door!”
The kids stared at him dumbfounded, but they wasted no time helping close down everything. The happy birthday spirit disappeared as they bolted to all possible points of entry, Mom and Keepsake leading them along. Clicks and bangs filled the home as windows and doors were shut one by one.
“What's going on?” Keep asked his Dad, afraid of what was coming. Maybe it was one of those burglars Dad had warned about. If it was a burglar, though, it wouldn’t explain why his brave and courageous father was trembling like a coward as he closed another window.
“Some kind of world emergency!” Dad burst out, head moving around like a rabid chicken’s. “We’ve got… I-I don’t know how it’s possible, but...”
“Wh-what is it?!” Mom yelled, freaked out of her mind. “Are there robbers outside?!”
“Or maybe the world’s ending?” suggested Burnt Alloy, another of Keep’s friends. In class, she was the smart girl with the orange curls in her hair, and she liked tending to her flowers at home. They made everyone smile, she’d said.
Now, however, everyone was horrified with what she’d suggested. No one wanted to think the end of the world was happening.
No one but Dad, sweating like a too cold glass of iced water. “You’re not that far off, missy.”
Heads turned his way. They then turned to the windows when distant sirens blared outside and faraway screams shot through the sky.
“It’s magic,” he muttered, looking to the floor as if he was losing his mind, capturing their attention. That word, magic, hooked them in, left them speechless. Sounded too crazy for a serious man like Dad to wheeze about, and yet...
“Magic,” he panted. “All of it’s magic. The news says it’s spreading like wildfire. N-not even those spunky teens could stop—“
Glass shattered as a figure crashed into the kitchen. It broke a window and flattened the cake because it didn’t care, all before landing and smashing onto the counter head-on.
Everyone else screamed and yelped as they retreated from the unknown. Mom and Keep’s friends ran to hide behind the walls, while Dad and Keep himself took only a few steps back, a safe distance from the figure. Probably safe enough.
The intruder was a mystery. It surely didn’t look human. It looked more like an animal. Looked a lot like a horse. Was exactly a horse but smaller, thicker, and with something extra: wings.
It twitched.
Keep held his breath amid a few more screams. He fled a few steps back and hid behind Dad who wasn’t looking too sure as well.
The horse-like thing stood up. It showed its face for a moment then gasped and flew out of the house, wings flapping heavy. Worse still, the horse spoke. It spoke words, and it spoke and screamed too much like a human to be an ordinary horse.
“W-was that a unicorn?!” shouted Alloy from behind the wall.
“Nah, silly!” Bud replied confidently despite the shaking in his shoes. “Unicorns have horns, and—“
“And if we don’t do something,” cut in Dad from the front of him, “we’re going to become just like that flying horse! That’s what magic is doing, turning everyone into weird magic creatures!”
All gasped at what they’d heard. Deadly silence followed suit. Magic, flying horses, people turning into magic flying horses—it sounded like the beginning of the end.
Keep ground his teeth. He just wanted to have fun on his birthday, not survive some world-ending crisis like this. However, Dad’s frightened tone gave him new priorities. Tightly gripping the wall beside him, he looked at Dad survey the broken window before the man closed the curtains.
“That's why we're locking down,” Dad yelled, panic snowballing in his words. “I... I don't know when it’s going to be safe out there, but we’re going to hold out here until then to keep everyone magic-free. Phones will be our only way to communicate with the outside world, and—“
“But what if magic can go through the Internet?” asked Alloy; nosy kid she was.
“I don't know!”
But at that moment, Dad’s breathing slowed as he regained his calm. He saw the children’s horrified expressions, terrified of him like he was an ogre. His aghast wife bounced a menacing scowl at him, and that finally doused his fiery attitude.
He shook his head, recovered himself with a long sigh. Looking around and seeing everyone looking back at him for answers he didn’t have, he continued: “Let’s just get this over with… form a plan so everyone’s taken care of. Keepsake, follow me. You have to...”
Dad’s face fell.
That wasn’t any good.
“What's wrong, Dad?” Keep asked.
But they kept looking at him. Not just Dad, but all his friends kept looking at him like he was caught with the cookie jar red-handed. They were whispering scared words to each other, slowly backing away from the birthday boy as their eyes glazed over him.
He felt a gentle pull from Mom. A look at her and she was just like them, terrified for no real reason.
“Mom?” His voice weakened, her startled eyes scaring him too. “Wh-why are they all looking at me like that?”
But Dad pulled him away, dragging him to the hallway where no one could see him. He could hear Mom trying to calm everyone down. Commotion was about to hit. He just knew it.
Safe in the corridor, Dad’s hard expression softened to something pathetic, something frightened. “No, no, no... not like this, son!...”
“Dad, wh-what’s wrong?” asked Keep, his volume dropping in his own fright.
He could only feel helpless seeing Dad like that, not mad or angry but scared at him like his own son was a monster.
”What’s g-going on. D-Dad? Why’d you do that to me?”
Dad gripped Keep’s shoulders. Or would’ve. He stopped his arms in mid-air, inches away from his child. No hug, no frown, no reassuring pat to make everything right like they always did.
“You… you haven’t noticed?” said Dad, his voice shaken. “I-it’s infected you already!”
Silence came upon him and his world briefly blinked out.
Infected. Couldn’t be the cold or high fever. He felt completely fine. Didn’t feel sick or anything. It surely wasn’t the cake, was it?
Magic. It was the magic.
When Dad touched the top of Keep’s head, Keep felt something else.
Instead of feeling a tap on the skull, he felt something floppy, something standing on it. A bit of muffled sound too like he cleaned his ears with a swab.
Then Dad tugged at the thing. It didn’t come out. It was stuck to his head, a part of him just like his ear.
Keep’s heart beat faster. There wasn’t supposed to be anything there; not even a hat, much less a flesh-and-blood part of him.
He felt a lack on his heads' sides. Hands felt for it and found nothing but skin and hair. His ears had vanished. His hands then felt around his head, and there was that something—two somethings now—
Ears.
That weird horse with wings had ears on top of his head, not on the sides like a human. Keep’s ears were now on the top too just like that horse’s.
Not like a human.
Magic had infected him.
“He’s turning into a unicorn, aah!”
That was Bud taking a peek out of the kitchen, and now it was too late to calm anyone down.
All of Keep’s friends screamed and ran away from him. Meanwhile, Mom chased after them, demanding they sit down, behave, and not treat her son like that as she whinnied like a horse.
Dad looked away too, sweat pouring down his face. “No... no, no, no!” He repeated those incessant no’s as he ran after everyone else, trying to round them up.
As everything fell into noisy chaos, Keepsake slid down to the floor, watching it all fall. Animal features were appearing on his friends, magic turning them into something else with each new part flashing in. His parents were not spared for horse ears sparked into form as well. Soon, they’d all become weird magical creatures like his Dad had said.
This was supposed to be a great birthday where he could enjoy everything to the max with his family and friends. Instead, the world was ending, and it was throwing his whole life upside down. Turning into a magic horse was the last thing he wanted, but now—
Tears broke through his eyes and started streaming down his cheeks.
In his affliction, he didn’t notice the unicorn horn appearing on his head.
~ ~ ~
He’d wanted to be just like the knights in the stories, riding their priceless unicorns to battle. He hadn’t asked to be one of those priceless unicorns themselves.
But he was one of those unicorns anyway, and here he was, sitting on his bed. He’d stared at the floor for the past thirty minutes, and he was still staring at it. The moon’s light shone on the floor, casting ghostly patterns on the surface.
Wrong. All of it. All of him felt weird, strange, unfamiliar, wrong. Back to crawling on all fours like a toddler—worse than a toddler. At least the baby had hands. Now, everything was a hassle. Picking things up with his teeth, pushing and pulling with a hoof. Magic? He didn't know how to use that too though they said he could.
Maybe his parents would've saved the day, or at least someone. They should’ve. Too bad the magic was too strong. After that, he’d hoped it was all a bad dream, and if it wasn't, the problem would go away in a few days or a few weeks just like all bad things.
It'd never went.
Mom had hugged him, brought her son under her literal wings, when word went around that no one could fix it. Nobody could, not even the one person who had come from the other side—Equestria, they called it. Meanwhile, Dad had shaken his head and groaned at everything, scorning his new Earth pony body but otherwise getting by if with grudges.
His friends had turned into odd creatures just like him, some of them unrecognizable except for the voices—the voices always remained the same. Thistle turned into a druid-like deer, Bud became a stampeding buffalo calf, and Burnt Alloy became just like the one that’d crashed into the kitchen: a horse with wings, a pegasus. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was all wrong.
Mom and Dad walked into his dim room. Slowly, they trotted in; their hoofsteps were the only noise he heard. It was way past bedtime, but now wasn’t the time to talk about sleep.
His throat tightened. Mom and Dad noticed. Their ears bent and showed more of their sorrow.
“I...”
The tears were almost there. Could just feel it, could just taste it as if they came over to his lips. No amount of screaming or pinching had woken him up from this nightmare reality. He hated it. Hated being forced on all fours like a baby. Hated having his humanity snatched away. Hated being this magic horse because he didn’t ask for it.
He just wanted everything back to normal.
They didn’t need to hear any more from their son. They came over and hugged him on his bed.
Keepsake cried in their embrace.
At present, Keep trotted down the stairs to his kitchen. It was a bit dark, but all it took was magically opening the curtains for warm sunlight to flood the whole house. Gone was the night’s chill.
It was, as usual, a good morning with the sun hanging out in its usual spot in the sky. He couldn’t help but think about the principal he was working for, his boss moving the sun every day. The interview with Principal Celestia had gone well enough that he’d gotten the job, but it was still weird having applied for a job with the sun’s manager.
Keep picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The news came on as background noise for preparing his hearty breakfast: a bowl of oatmeal and a bowl of cereal with a bowl of salad on the side along with tons of orange juice and one cup of coffee. The variety of mouth-watering smells wafted to his snout, and the pony wasn’t afraid to let out an equine snort in greedy anticipation. His meal was coming along nicely, and with waking up this early, he’d have plenty of time to fully enjoy his food.
There wasn't much happening at home, at least that's what the news would tell him. It was all about the international stuff: the breezies and the buffalo had struck on a trade agreement and now planned to officially celebrate each other's culture in spite of—or because of—their ridiculous size differences. The buffalos dwarfed the breezie delegation, the camera angles doing the latter no justice as they almost shrunk into specks beside their colossal counterparts.
A pony reporter then interviewed a breezie on the street, hoping not to knock the poor thing away with the microphone. Keep had to admit, it was fun to watch breezies try to fit in as much as they could with creatures several magnitudes larger than them. Though, he had to admit too that it was mean-spirited humor.
The doorbell rang, its sweet song a serenade to his ears. He got up and turned off the TV on the way to the front. Must be the mailmare.
Wasn't much of a surprise when he opened the door and a purple pegasus stood there. She was wearing her mailmare cap and a saddle bag of newspapers just over her wings.
“Morning, Keep!” greeted Press Run. She was upbeat as always, eyes closed in joy. A green wing reached into the bag, rummaging for a broadsheet. “The usual, no?”
“The usual, yes,” he replied as he took the newspaper in with his blue-tinted magic.
Her work here done, Press turned away to the next house. But, about to glide with her wings outstretched, she turned back to Keep. “Oh, wait! Aren't you supposed to do something big today?”
“Yup!” Keep jerked a hoof to the far left. “I’m starting my teaching career today at Canterlot High. Remember?”
Press looped in the air, laughing in delight while somehow having nothing fall from her bags. “Finally, huh? That’s great! You made it to the top!”
Keep rolled his eyes at the over-excited mare across him. “I wouldn't say that. 'Making it' is nice, but it's just what I want to do in life, you know.”
“It's your passion and all that jazz, huh?” she playfully replied.
“Eh...” Keep let slip a tiny smirk. “At least I take it seriously.”
Press quickly wing-brushed her cap clean. “Okay, then! Can't stay put; gotta go—bye!”
After farewells were exchanged, Press took off to the next house and Keep trotted back inside. He traveled to the table, floating the newspaper beside him until he sat down. It dropped beside his glass of orange juice.
The papers were a lot more local and a lot closer to home than TV news; such was The Canterlot Daily. Today's front page demonstrated how proud the average Canterlot citizen was of their heroes: Professor Twilight Sparkle being cried over and wished well by her friends in a move to world-renowned Marevard University, Vice Principal Luna delegating more of her nighttime duties to another freshly-minted batch of dream guards, and Apple Cookie—daughter of Big Mac and Sugar Belle—winning the Canterlot juniors' rodeo and carrying home a haul of blue ribbons.
The paper told of other news and other stories, but they were all talk of home. They were all talk of here.
Keep always had a soft spot for his hometown of Canterlot, a soft spot for here. As he flipped through the paper, he paid more attention to familiar names and familiar places, away from the capitals of the world and their governments. Let Earth’s leaders handle all the big stuff.
An errant page got skipped. Too bad, but it was a trivial mistake. No need to worry. He floated the paper back to the overlooked page.
There, front and center in the lifestyle section, was a picture of a small red-brick building. Clean and pristine twinkled the dewy grass grounds, at least judging from the photo’s quality. Arrayed under the windows stood rows of colorful flowers, sparking nostalgia into Keep's memories. Roaming around outside were plenty of young creatures, spanning all species. They played and ran and sat and relished the day while their parents and guardians watched them over from afar.
Underneath was the piece's title: Canterlot Elementary Academy Set to Open Today.
Funny that Keep’s breakfast was cereal and oatmeal just now, with that article right before him. And on today of all days.
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Seems like a good start. So both alicorns still work as a Principle/vice-principle at CHS despite being the ones who control the Sun and the Moon? I thought they would rule the America already.
Even more weird that the mare who moved the sun still did work as a high school principal, but who was Keepsake to judge?
In any case, definitely looking forward to getting a good look at this world fifteen years later. It should be quite the sight, I'm sure.
9808637
Cultural differences.
Something I've been looking forward to. Excited for the rest.
And here we go!
Well now, this should be interesting. End Of The World scenario in the middle of your birthday party? Yeesh, talk about a mood killer.
9808637
9808728
Pretty much. Honestly, judging from the show, it doesn't seem that hard to do, but I can't say—I've never been a cosmic-level alicorn before, he-he!
9808702
Keepsake could judge her as a modest pony. At least, Celestia strikes me as the modest type despite her raising and lowering the bombastic and all-over-your-face sun.
9808892
Yeah, I've been looking forward to putting this out for others to see for a very long while, so count me in the excitement bandwagon too!
9809132
That's true! I hope you'll enjoy the ride after the publishing as much as you did before it!
9809376
You think that's bad? Just imagine the horror shadow puppeteers are going to have when they lose their hands!