A Californian college student accidentally discovers a portal to Equestria, and - as time goes on - finds that the magic of friendship isn't limited to ponies.
You've heard of the multiverse hypothesis, yeah? The one that says that our universe is just one of an infinite number of alternate realities, all separate from one another in any number of ways?
Well, Equestria is one of them. How do I know that? I accidentally discovered a hole between our two universes while I was on my way home one afternoon, thanks to little more than the whims of fate, and over the course of the next few hours I was alternately impressed and scared beyond the capacity for rational thought. Fortunately, by the time it was all winding down I'd earned an open invitation to return whenever I felt like doing so. Instead of getting drunk and forgetting the incident entirely, though? I made the choice to follow up on it.
My reasons are complicated, like most anyone's thoughts tend to be, but the short version is this: Equestria can learn from humanity, and humanity can learn from Equestria. Why not visit from time to time?
The Road Less Traveled is intended to be a series of short stories that depict how one man discovers just how powerful friendship can be. It's not much to look at right now, and it's probably rife with technical errors, but the idea just wouldn't leave Eak and myself alone, so here it is. Rest assured, the two of us do have a plan for this particular story universe.
Unfortunately, I am quite possibly the World's Slowest Writer. Hopefully your patience will be rewarded.
Rated Teen for the occasional bit of foul language, as well as the presence of alcohol and cigarettes. Character tags will be added as they appear.
07/25/2015: On Hiatus. Sorry folks, the inspiration's just not flowing. Should've done this sooner, but I'm an optimist.
It was a beautiful Fall day. The leaves were turning colors, there was a chill on the vaguely incense-scented breeze that wasn't precisely out to get anyone, and the sun was blazing away in a vain attempt to warm the planet. In short, perfect weather for a bike ride down one of my favorite trails. Sure, my ultimate destination was the only place within fifty miles that still had the textbooks I needed, but that was no reason not to enjoy the ride.
Now, I’m a simple sort of person. I like my sandwiches to be a couple slices of meat between two pieces of bread instead of a salad you eat with your hands, I’d rather fix something instead of replace it, and my idea of a great night off is staying home to read a favorite book. It should come as no surprise, then, that I enjoy the simple pleasure of cycling down a tree-lined path on a gorgeous autumn day. It’s cheaper than going to a movie and better for me than sitting in front of a computer for hours on end... and there’s all kinds of nifty little specialty tools and equipment that go along with the hobby of cycling, too.
What? Is there something wrong with geeking out about a hobby?
Having said I’m a cyclist, you might be visualizing a traditional upright bicycle. Two wheels of equal size, a triangular frame that you can easily pick up and sling over one shoulder, and a wedge of a saddle that’s as likely to give you a colonoscopy as it is to support your ass on a long trek. Allow me to disabuse you of this notion.
I ride a recumbent bicycle. On a recumbent, you ride in an upright seated position and pedal forwards instead of down. It’s a lot more comfortable, especially for someone with extensive back problems like mine, and it lets me carry a small messenger bag’s worth of stuff in a bag on the back of the seat. Spare tubes for the front and rear tires, as well as the tools needed to change and re-inflate a tube on the side of the road, various safety lights, GPS-equipped bike computer, some chemical lightsticks, gloves, snacks… It’s reassuring to have everything I need for a field repair and then some on hand when I go for a day-long ride, y’know?
But, I’m rambling. It was a gorgeous Fall day, and I set out to go on a bike ride. I’m no professional cyclist or hardcore road-jockey, so I just threw on some jeans, a t-shirt and a light pullover. After that came the bike shoes - clipless pedals are magical, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise - and velcro straps around my ankles to keep my pants out of the chain, as well as sunglasses and the clip-on side mirror I use to compensate for my inability to turn and look behind me. Regular glasses went in their case, which then went into the seat-back bag I mentioned earlier, and I finally got around to getting on the freakin’ bike.
The path I intended to ride was about thirteen miles away by the route I took. Sure, the roadways were ill-maintained in some places, but it was worth it when I got there. Oh, how I enjoyed those four miles of peace, serenity, and not having to deal with cars. When I got to the end of the trail, I headed to the small library that had the books I needed. About twenty minutes later, having stopped for a quick bite to eat, I was back at the trailhead and rolling home.
Imagine my surprise when I spotted a construction crew on the trail ahead of me a few minutes later. Sure, a lot can happen in twenty minutes or so, but jeez. I didn’t think the path was that bad when I went over it.
Not wanting to pick my way past heavy equipment, or explain myself to the construction workers running said heavy equipment, I turned onto a side-trail. It was one I’d gone over before, a lovely packed-dirt path that ran alongside its paved cousin for a couple of miles before veering off towards a nearby four-lane road. It’d get me home, but it was a less-comfortable ride.
I’ll admit, I tend to zone out while I’m riding. I don’t pay as much attention as I should to the world around me, since I’m paying more attention to the world in front of me. I kept a sedate pace down the dirt path, but something felt off. I couldn't quite put my finger on what, not at first, but then my bike computer beeped at me. I glanced down at the device, which was sporting an error message I’d only seen while testing it indoors.
It wasn't receiving any GPS signals.
Now, I don’t know about you, but that worried me a bit. Either there’d been an unprecedented catastrophic failure of every GPS satellite in orbit, or my bike computer had just let out its magic smoke. I rolled to a stop, kicked a foot free of its pedal to balance with, and started poking at the device to try and get it functioning again. After spending a couple minutes fiddling around, everything seemed to be in order except the GPS tracking. I chalked it up to a hardware failure on my end, seeing as how the device was nearly old enough to drink, and turned it off. Not much I could do about it, though I was a bit bummed to see it go.
Before I shoved off, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I shook the feeling away and rolled on, filing it away as an errant afternoon breeze that’d managed to get under my ponytail. Barely a mile down the road, though? It came back, right as I rounded a corner to see something that no sane person would ever imagine was real.
Against all logic and reason, the path I was on opened up into a slim dirt road. This dirt road cut through a beautiful grassy meadow, leading the way to - and this is the bit that really hurt my head - someplace that looked exactly like Ponyville. You know, the fictional location in a cartoon.
I couldn't believe it. Such a place simply didn’t exist on the Earth that I knew. Logically, a tiny little voice of sanity lectured from the back of my mind, I was either stone dead and in heaven, or so goddamned high I was seeing things. The latter was likely - I’d smelled some pretty dank product while out on my bike rides before, after all - but so was the former.
Either way, I decided to roll with it. If I was high, I might as well enjoy it. If I was in the afterlife, same thing. I gave up on coasting down the slight incline I found myself on, and pedaled my way into town. Sure enough, there were ponies in abundance, and the sheer saturation of colors started lending credence to the idea that I was impossibly high instead of dead.
Then something flashed on my left, just outside my field of view, and it felt like I’d just caught a pillow that’d been shot out of a cannon with my ribs. I fought to keep my balance on reflex alone, even as that weight clung to my left side. There were noises coming from just behind me on that side too, reminding me of nothing less than a pissed-off cicada or cricket, but I tuned them out as I struggled to reestablish a line and come to a controlled stop.
My efforts were thwarted by a second impact from the same side, and this time I felt something tangling itself up in my legs. I hauled back on both brake levers as I kicked my feet out of the pedals, but I couldn't put my feet down. A glance down from the oncoming road told me that everything from my knees down had been splattered in what could only be described as goo, which was clinging tenaciously to my calves and to my bike. It reminded me of nothing less than how “loogie gun” projectiles were described in Snow Crash - thick, sticky, stringy, and nearly impossible to dislodge.
The little voice of sanity in my head decided that now was a good time for a vacation.
My forward momentum finally gave out on me and, after a brief and ultimately futile struggle, gravity took hold. I landed heavily on my right side and started trying to get to my feet. This was made rather difficult by the goop that’d glued my torso to the seat, not to mention the sticky mess that’d tangled itself up with my legs and bike. A third glob came sailing in from out of view to splatter across my right arm, plastering it against the dirt and ensuring I wasn't going anywhere.
This didn't mean I couldn't struggle, and I certainly did, but nothing came of it. I was tangentially aware of a crowd forming around me as I tried to comprehend what the hell had happened, but my train of thought was derailed when a purple alicorn stepped out of the crowd and met my gaze. I think they were trying to talk to me - its mouth was moving, and sounds were coming out, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. All I could hear were a series of variations on the classic whinny and neigh, and that didn't mean anything to me.
“Look, uh. You’re clearly trying to talk to me, but I have no idea…”
My subconscious, which had been busily rummaging through my sanity’s desk in its absence, tapped me on the shoulder to inform me that I was probably in Equestria, and that I was probably looking at Princess Twilight Sparkle. Oh, and it added that if I didn't understand their language? They probably wouldn't understand mine, and I had just frightened a lot of ponies with my sudden appearance.
My eyes very nearly bugged out of my skull, and I renewed my efforts to free myself from the goop I’d been entangled with. My right arm nearly came free, prickling as patches of hair were pulled out by the roots, and I almost had my legs free when the alicorn’s horn lit up. A tingle passed over my scalp, as if I’d just dunked my head in a bucket of dandruff shampoo, and I froze as a familiar voice met my ears.
“I can’t believe I didn't think of trying a comprehension spell sooner. Hello?” Oh sweet Jesus, she sounded just like the voice actress in the show. “Can you understand me?”
I swallowed. My heart was pounding in my ears. This was the worst trip ever. But, I still answered. Maybe playing along would get it over with faster. “Yes..?”
“Oh good, that means we can skip right to introducing ourselves!” I had no idea an equine face could smile until that moment. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, what’s your name?”
“I’m…” Fictional paranoia became real, and bits of old fae lore concerning the power of true names bubbled up in my mind. So, I went with the nickname I’d had for decades. “You can call me Steve.”
She repeated the name a few times and, while I could ‘hear’ her saying it properly, I could tell the sounds coming from her mouth weren’t remotely similar. Her smile got a bit wider and her horn flickered, glowing with an inner light. “An interesting name. Certainly not Equestrian, that’s for sure.” The goop binding me up disappeared. I think my mouth hung open. “Well, since you don’t seem to be anything other than lost, would you like to tell me how you came to be here over tea?”
Another voice piped up, somewhat rough and buzzing around the edges. “Princess, are you sure this is wise? We know nothing of this creature. It should be detained for the safety of the town, not treated as a guest.”
I twisted as best I could to look at the source, and discovered a changeling hovering not three feet away from me. I think I screamed. In my defense, the real thing is far more disturbing than the cartoon version. I certainly scrambled away from it, only to bump into Twilight’s legs in my heedless rush to get away. I probably screamed again. Then, mercifully, I passed out.
Consciousness took its sweet time getting back to me. Touch and hearing were first to arrive, informing me that I was flat on my back and unrestrained while someone presumably took notes with a pencil. Thinking I was in a hospital - one on Earth, that is - I opened my eyes… Only to discover that particular assumption was wrong.
No, rather than a hospital, I was lying on the floor of what could only have been a library. Fortunately, I was still clothed. Whoever had brought me there was thoughtful enough to have put a thin mattress down, but it was still the floor, and that certainly puts an upper limit on how comfortable one can conceivably be on even the best mattress. I started the laborious process of getting up - when your back doesn't work like everyone else’s, trust me, you put more work into things like this - and was greeted by a cornucopia of muscle aches. As soon as I started moving, the scratching I thought was writing broke off.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Twilight’s voice only served to remind me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. “I’m sorry about earlier. Obsidian Chip is one of the first changelings in the Royal Guard, and she sometimes takes her duties a little too seriously. You’re not hurt, are you?”
That was a good question. I sat on my heels and, after a few seconds of prodding at my various bruises, shrugged. “I’ll be sore for a while, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Good, good. I’d hate to waste time finding out if a vet is more qualified to mend your wounds than a doctor.” There was a shuffling of something - paper, perhaps? - before Twilight continued. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
I stood up, wincing slightly at the bruises I’d gathered, and took a moment to look around the library. It was clearly well-maintained, but that comfortable order had been disrupted. My bike was on its kickstand by the door, stripped of the bits of gear I usually keep on it, and Twilight appeared to have taken it upon herself to sort through and categorize my belongings. “That depends on the questions…”
“Most important first, then.” One of my textbooks was engulfed in a vaguely pink-purple aura, and hovered its way over to Twilight. Of all the times to be studying math… “I recognized a lot of the diagrams in this book, and I think I've puzzled out your numerals, but I want to be entirely sure. You use a base-ten system, right? Zero through nine?”
“Yeah. Do you have something I can write with?” In response, a mobile chalkboard rolled out of a nearby closet, engulfed in the same sort of aura my book was floating inside, then it came to a stop. I waited for the aura to dissipate, then picked up a bit of chalk from the tray and scribbled at the chalkboard. “Zero through nine.”
“That’s what I figured.” Twilight’s voice seemed distracted, but I didn’t bother to turn and see what’d gotten her attention. “What about addition, subtraction, and so on?”
“Alright.” I shrugged and jotted down a few basic formulas as an example. “Addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Anything else?”
I turned around to discover the cheap pocket calculator I’d left in my bag hovering a few inches away from my face. I peered around it at Twilight, who looked rather frazzled. “I've been feeding this device of yours math problems for the past twenty minutes, and now that I know for sure what your mathematical language looks like, I just figured out it’s been giving me correct answers every. Single. Time.” She barely stopped for breath, and glared at me. “And as far as I can tell, there’s no magic involved. How does this nightmarish device work without using magic‽”
And that’s how I spent the next two hours. Twilight held up something of mine, asked a question or ten about it, and I answered to the best of my ability. When Twilight was satisfied, or at least convinced I didn’t know everything there was to know about something, she let me pack it away again. The electronic devices took more time than things like my tools and food, really, and left me with the distinct impression that Equestria’s technological development was somewhat lacking. This might be a result of their reliance on magic, but I couldn't be sure. Fortunately, Twilight calmed down somewhat as her curiosity was sated, and stuffed the papers she’d filled with her findings into an over-sized envelope.
Once everything was packed up, I assumed the questions would stop. Twilight quickly disabused me of that notion. “I do have some questions about your conveyance, but they’re not as urgent. You can answer while you show me back to where you appeared in Equestria.” She took a moment to seal the envelope with a bit of stamped wax, then lit a candle that burned with an intense green flame. One corner of the sealed envelope came in contact with the fire, and the whole thing went up like the Hindenburg. Conveniently, the rush of air filling a void was enough to extinguish the candle. Then Twilight turned her head toward the stairs and, well, yelled. “Spike! I’m going out, but I’m expecting an important letter from Celestia! Leave it on my desk if it comes while I’m not here!”
“Alright!” The sounds I heard behind the comprehension spell were terrifying, and left no doubt as to Spike’s existence as an actual honest-to-god dragon. I consider myself quite fortunate to have not soiled myself upon hearing his voice. “Say hi to Rarity for me if you see her!”
Twilight caught my look of horror and nickered, which I decided to interpret as a laugh. “First time hearing Draconic? I tried teaching him Equestrian, but he didn’t speak it as much as he gargled it. He’s a big softie, I promise.”
“I’ll take your word for it, if it’s all the same to you.” I shook off my surprise as I checked my bike over for damage, as well as lingering bits of changeling goop. There wasn't any trace of the latter, thankfully, but I frowned mightily when I noticed an important part of the right-side bottle cage had snapped when I’d tipped over earlier. My own damn fault for getting the cheap aluminum ones, I suppose. Without thinking twice, I dug into my tools for the hex wrench set and pulled the broken cage off, then swapped the left one into its place. On reflex, I looked around for a recycling bin to chuck the broken bit of gear into, only to notice Twilight’s attention was focused on me. Or rather, the broken bottle cage I was holding. “...Is there something I can do for you, Princess?”
“Is that aluminum..? It doesn't shine quite the same way steel does, and for it to snap like that it must be either aluminum or an aluminum alloy that’s been subjected to stress over time...” The way she said it, it was like she was talking to herself. “I examined the coins myself, and those were primarily copper, nickel, and zinc. But if that’s aluminum, and it’s not used in the local currency, then it must be either incredibly valuable - which is contraindicated by using it for structural purposes - or so common as to be nearly worthless aside from its material properties…”
“So you’re not impressed by interchangeable parts and what that implies from a societal standpoint, but you are impressed by the metal itself?”
Finally, Twilight remembered I was there. “How could you not know how…!” Then she looked at me again and calmed down. “Right. You’re an alien from another dimension. I’d be surprised if you did know how rare aluminum is in Equestria.”
“Tell you what. There’s a bit of a walk ahead of us. You can tell me all about it as we go.” I shrugged and offered up the broken bit of gear. “If it helps, you can have this to study at your leisure. I certainly don’t need it anymore.”
Almost immediately, the broken bottle cage was snatched up in what I’d figured out was Twilight’s magical field. The field shimmered, presumably as she cast some variety of identification spell, and her jaw went slack. “...I can’t melt it down and sell it, it’s too valuable from a research standpoint, but still. This much pure aluminum is worth hundreds of bits…”
“Consider it a gift.” I shrugged and folded my bike’s kickstand up, making ready to go. “If I brought it home with me, I’d just toss it in the recycling bin and it’d get melted down as scrap metal in a few weeks. This way, someone gets more use out of it. Maybe you’ll learn something about human metallurgy from it.”
“That’s exactly what I hope to do, but that can wait.” Twilight smiled and floated the busted-up piece of hardware into a desk drawer. After that, she extracted a set of saddlebags from the closet near the door, settling them across her back as she opened the library’s front door. “You have a portal to show me.”
Say what you will about how adorable Equestrian architecture is, it’s not designed for anyone much more than five feet tall. Since I’m six-one, I’m glad the library had high ceilings. Unfortunately, the front door was more appropriately sized for a hobbit or dwarf than someone my size. I’ll spare you a description of how difficult it was to get myself and my bike out of the library without damaging the moldings. I’ll just say it was awkward enough for Twilight to stifle a bit of laughter, and let your imagination fill in the blanks.
Once I was sure I was clear of the door, I plopped down on my bike. “Think you could lead me back to where I passed out?” I dimly registered the click from my left foot clipping into its pedal. Reflexes are awesome that way. “I don’t exactly know the town the way you do.”
“Sure.” Twilight started walking, then raised an eyebrow at me when I pushed off and easily kept pace with her. Low gears are awesome. “What was that click I heard? It sounded like it came from your foot.”
“Clipless pedals.” I caught her look of incomprehension, and elaborated. “You noticed the metal cleats on my shoes while I was out, right?” She nodded, and I continued. “Those match up with a locking mechanism built into the pedals, and allows me to secure my feet to them while in motion. It’s primarily an efficiency thing.”
“Sounds like an interesting bit of mechanical engineering. I’d love to learn more about their development, but I’m guessing you don’t know as much as I’d like to learn?”
“Got it in one.” I shrugged. “Any other questions?”
Let it be known that asking Twilight Sparkle if she has ‘any other questions’ is a bad idea. Fortunately for me, being engaged in an active conversation with a Princess - I still wasn't clear on if that was a job or an honorific reserved for alicorns - seemed to keep the town’s population from screaming and running in terror, and gave me plenty of time to get my bearings unmolested. Unfortunately, the crowds were so thick I had to resort to pushing myself along with my feet instead of pedaling like I really wanted to, and that gave Twilight ample time to continue grilling me for information. Don’t get me wrong, she was quite kind about it, and she probably didn’t realize that she was doing it, but I was still being grilled for information. I wound up giving her short explanations of the industrial revolution, the jump from vacuum tubes to transistors, and even touched upon the various space programs and their accomplishments.
“So you’re telling me,” Twilight was giving me her best skeptical look as we finally reached the edge of town, “that your species visited your moon by sending specially-trained volunteers into orbit inside pressurized metal cans sitting on top of fireworks the size of buildings? And the only reason the nation-state you’re from did it was to demoralize another nation-state?”
“When you put it like that, it does sound insane.” I shrugged. “Then again, so does falling through an inter-dimensional portal to find a race of intelligent multicolored horses.”
“Ponies.” Twilight corrected me, on reflex, before continuing. “I suppose you have a point, though. Your race doesn't have magic, so you would have to find alternate means to achieve your goals. And since you said you’re genetically related to some of the great apes, there would be some instinctual remnants of their behavior in your culture…”
“Take it from me, humans are weird.” My gaze flicked across the scenery in front of me, and something clicked in my head. “Where’s this path lead? I think it’s the one I showed up on.”
“It’s a big loop that goes through the Whitetail Woods. The other end comes out on the other side of town.” Twilight peered at me, and I felt for all the world like a bug under a microscope. “We use it for The Running of the Leaves every year, but there haven’t been any reports of ponies going missing yesterday...”
“Hey, don’t look at me. ” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s a recent thing, maybe it only opens once certain conditions are met, maybe it’s a one-way portal. All I know about this sort of thing is that inter-dimensional portals clearly exist, or else I wouldn't be here.”
“You've... Got a point. Sorry.” Twilight shook her head, and transitioned to a light trot. “We've got a fair bit of ground to cover if you came in on this path.”
“In that case, Princess?” I relaxed into my seat and found a sedate cadence to my strokes, easily keeping up with Twilight. “You set the pace, and keep a magical eye open. I don’t want either of us to blunder into the portal by accident.”
“Sure thing.” I caught a glimmer of light as Twilight lit her horn. Freakin’ magic, there’s no explaining it. “What’s the other side like?”
“A lot like this, actually. Dirt path, trees on either side, roughly the same time of year too. Maybe the similarity contributed to the portal’s formation?”
“For someone who doesn't know much about magic, you’re certainly catching on quick.” Twilight grinned over her shoulder at me. “You sure you don’t have a horn?”
“I dunno, don’t most males have something that could resemble a horn in the right lighting?” I grinned as she shot me a look of confusion. “I mean, sure, it’s not on my head, but it does exist…”
Comprehension dawned, and Twilight cringed. “Augh, you’re worse than Spike!” But, she started laughing a moment later. “Are all stallions like this, and I just never noticed?”
“Can’t speak for the stallions, ma’am, but most males of my species and age do tend toward such crudeness.” I kept on grinning. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll try and keep it under control. No promises, though.”
Twilight rolled her eyes, and we struck up a friendly banter as we went down the trail. She’d ask me a question about Earth, I’d answer, then I’d get to ask something about Equestria. We kept this up for a while, then Twilight came to an uncertain stop. “Is it just me, or is it warmer than it was a few seconds ago?”
“Come to think of it, yeah, a little bit.” I rolled to a stop next to her, planting my feet. “It couldn't be thermal leakage from the portal, could it?”
“I doubt it, given what you've said.” Twilight looked around, confused. “Couldn't be a forest fire either, I would've smelled one the moment we left the library. It almost feels like summer, but that’s-”
“Twilight Sparkle. Step away from the intruder.” The sudden, booming voice resonated in my chest, stunning me with its intensity. I barely registered Twilight bolting away from me as if I’d caught fire. A moment later, the voice’s owner stepped out of the undergrowth. Dimly, some part of me registered that I was looking at Princess Celestia. She was…
To call her ‘awe-inspiring’ doesn't quite convey the sheer force behind her presence. She shone in the late afternoon sunlight, enough to make my eyes water just looking at her. The air itself rippled and flowed around her, mirages forming and dissipating along her coat and plumage. Instead of a mane and tail, she had a nebulous haze of colors stretching away from her neck and rump, twisting and snapping in a maelstrom I could neither see nor hear. Her horn was ablaze with power, whorls of barely-contained plasma spiraling away from the golden corona. The torc and shoes she wore seemed to be formed of molten gold, and the gemstone set into her torc blazed as if it were a nugget of the sun itself.
She waited for Twilight to stop moving, and then her attention shifted to me.
“I am The Unconquered Sun. I rule this land. You will answer my questions. If you attempt deception of any sort, you will die. If I deem you to be a threat to this world or its inhabitants, you will die. If you attempt to flee, you will die tired. Do you understand?”
This wasn't the Celestia I’d ever thought I’d meet, and frankly? I’m surprised I didn’t fill my pants. All I could think to do was reply with as much earnest respect as I could muster. “Of course, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed. It felt like her glare might pierce my skull, as though she were trying to read my brain by sight alone. “What are you?”
I had the distinct impression she was starting off with the easy questions, possibly to get a feel for how I answered before diving into the real meat of the matter. Since my life was on the line, I answered as honestly as I could with as many details as I could remember. Sadly, the result was more like word vomit instead of a proper answer. “Human. Evolutionarily related to chimpanzees. We call ourselves Homo sapiens sapiens in our scientific nomenclature.”
Where Twilight was animated, Celestia was like a statue as I answered. She was silent for a moment, then asked her second question. “Who are you?”
...Great. The name question. Here was one of the most powerful entities I had ever encountered, and if the tiny little voice of reason screaming about fae lore in the back of my mind was right? If I answered truthfully she would be able to exert her will over mine without batting an eye. But if I didn't, she said she would kill me. So, as cold sweat trickled down my spine, I answered truthfully and prayed I was wrong about names being a source of power. “My name is Stephen Coleman. I’m a student at Sonoma State University, currently studying mechanical engineering and industrial design.”
The statue that was Celestia moved, ever so slightly. One eyebrow arched upwards, but this did nothing to diminish the force of her presence. Frankly, I was surprised I was still able to hold myself upright under the stress of being so close to her. Then came a third question. “What is it you want?”
My mouth got away from me at that point, scurrying away like a panicked animal. “I want to get home, take a shower, and pretend none of this ever happened. I want to get hilariously drunk and pass out in my bathroom so I can forget this whole day. I want to graduate. I want to be remembered. I want-”
“Enough.”
There was a distinct clack as my jaw snapped shut. At the time, I thought I might have chipped a tooth.
“What is it you want from Equestria?” I could feel my sense of self stop cowering as her voice approached conversational tones. There was still certainly a hardness there, and she was still putting on quite the show, but there wasn't the same preternatural force behind her words. “Why are you here?”
“Nothing, though it might be nice to make some friends.” I actually managed to shrug, though I knew for a fact I was shaking. Probably a side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “As for why? As far as I can tell, an accident. I certainly didn’t intend to come here.”
"Do you intend to return?" Her voice was like ice down my spine, and right about then is when I had an epiphany. This was Celestia preparing for war. She didn’t want it, since she was asking questions, but she sure as hell was ready to do anything to protect her domain.
“I might like to, if you would allow it.” I like to think I sounded more confident than I felt. “Your people - your ponies, rather, seem friendly enough.”
That’s when the world noticeably relaxed. As Celestia’s horn dimmed, I heard birds off in the distance for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The shimmer of distortion playing across her coat disappeared as the heat I’d been engulfed by was replaced by a crisp autumn breeze. Then she sighed, wings folding up against her barrel as her ethereal mane and tail calmed themselves. “My apologies. The last time an incident such as this occurred-”
“What do you mean, ‘the last time’?” Twilight’s voice broke in, with all the grace and subtlety of a bulldozer covered in strobe lights. “You never told me about anything like this when you briefed me on the nature of ongoing threats to Equestria!”
“Excuse us.” Celestia’s horn flickered, and I felt my scalp tingle. Then she turned to Twilight… And all I could hear were horse noises. Fucking magic, am I right? Without anything else to do, I just sat there and watched the conversation. From the rapid-fire nature of Twilight’s speech, as well as the rather impressive gesturing she was doing with her hooves and wings, it didn’t take a genius to guess she was well and truly annoyed. There was a moment where she turned to me, probably asking a question, only to round on Celestia with a renewed vigor as she realized the comprehension spell had been dismissed and I had no way of knowing what was being said.
To her credit, Celestia weathered the tirade with the look of one used to such outbursts. She didn’t raise her voice, she didn’t gesture wildly the way Twilight was, she just waited for the younger alicorn to tire herself out. Then they exchanged words, Twilight much calmer than before, before they both turned to me. Celestia’s horn gleamed for a moment, and I felt the prickling of the comprehension spell settle across my scalp again.
“Now that we've settled that misunderstanding,” Celestia glanced at Twilight, who at least had the good sense to look a little embarrassed, “I do believe it’s time to get our guest home.”
At that point Celestia turned to look up the path, lighting her horn as her head swung around. Without a single bit of fuss, a semi-circular plane of something that resembled the surface of a soap bubble flicked into being in the middle of the path. It was easily tall enough for me to walk through standing upright, and behind the diffraction-shimmer I could see the trail I’d been on earlier. It was like looking through a window, albeit one in desperate need of cleaning. Now I’d seen enough levitation to get used to the idea, but this? This was magic, pure and simple. I had to struggle to keep my jaw from swinging open.
“Wait, you’re just sending him home? That’s it?” And there were Twilight’s trademark diplomatic skills at work once again. “Celestia, we could learn so much from his species. They clearly have advanced metalworking techniques, and their understanding of electricity and its potential applications is so far beyond anything anypony has even thought of-” She stammered for a moment, then pointed a hoof at me. “The...the device with the touch-responsive surface!”
“My phone?” I patted myself down to find my smartphone, then pulled it out. “This?”
“Yes! That!” There was a note of desperation in her voice. “You said it needs an electromagnetic signal of some sort to function properly, right? Well, light is just visible electromagnetic radiation, and the portal’s letting that through! See if it’s working!”
I glanced at the status displays, and sure enough I was receiving enough of a signal to pull down something from the internet. “Twilight? You probably get this all the time, but you’re a genius.” I’m pretty sure I was grinning like a maniac as I tapped away at the screen. I knew exactly what I was looking for, bandwidth caps be damned. “You remember how I told you that we sent explorers to our moon?”
“Yes, and it’s impressive you did that without magic, but what does that have to do with anything?”
I grinned incrementally wider as I found the video I was looking for. One tap made it fill the screen, and I turned my phone around so the two alicorns could see. “This is footage of a man named Neil Armstrong. He was the first human to walk on our moon. Now, the video quality’s nothing to write home about, but it’s all we had to work with about fifty years ago.”
I pressed play, and a familiar voice came out of the phone’s speaker. ‘That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind...’
Twilight was absolutely enthralled for the next minute or so, and I could tell from the cant of her ears that Celestia was giving the video her undivided attention. When it was over, the pair looked at each other.
“Celestia-”
“Twilight-”
Celestia ceded her position to Twilight with a gesture, and the purple mare took full advantage of it. “If they could do that fifty years ago, just imagine what they know now! We have a chance to learn about sciences we've barely even considered before, from a culture that’s taken the time to explore them in depth! Just think of all the advances we could make in communications, transportation, virtually every one of the materials sciences…” Twilight stopped to take a much-needed breath before finishing. “The list just goes on! We’d be foalish not to learn all we can from them!”
“Well spoken, Twilight, though I urge caution in your research. If knowledge truly is power, as some philosophers have claimed over the centuries, then this species has power we know next to nothing about. That we seem to have established contact on neutral,” Celestia smiled, sparing a moment to glance at me. “hopefully even friendly terms is miraculous on its own. As I have no authority over you or your studies, and I do agree that we have much to learn from this culture, I wish to offer my services to you as a mage. I do happen to have some experience with sealing inter-dimensional gateways such as this one, and I would be more than happy to help you secure this gate in such a fashion as to allow your guest to pass while preventing others of his kind from accidentally stumbling through into our domain.”
Twilight opened her mouth, as if to launch into a prepared rebuttal, then her mind caught up with what was just said. I could hear the gears in her head grinding to a halt. “You… But I thought… After that display…”
“I’ll tell you about why I did that later.” Celestia just kept on smiling, warm and enigmatic. “My only condition is that you take responsibility for the actions of your guest while he’s here. If you won’t, then I shall seal the portal permanently.”
“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Twilight started bouncing in place, wings fluttering slightly, then she promptly shattered any sense of decorum she had left by wrapping her forelegs around Celestia’s neck. Yup, she just straight-up hugged the solar diarch that had oh-so-recently threatened to kill me. “I promise, I’ll take full responsibility for anything he does while he’s here.”
“I don’t think you’ll ever earn a title more fitting than ‘faithful student’, Twilight.” Celestia allowed herself a light giggle as Twilight went back to all fours. “You’re always finding new things to learn, and from the most unlikely sources. Now let’s see about getting a proper filtering gate set up on this portal, shall we?”
While they set about doing things I had absolutely no ability to understand - over half of the things I overheard were either gibberish-English or native Equestrian, presumably due to the comprehension spell not being able to cope with high-density technical jargon - I leaned back in my bike seat and stared at the sky.
I was alive, and I was going home.
I decided this was worthy of a reward, so I reached back and fished an energy bar out of my bag to chew on as I let the adrenaline wear off.
I could come back.
That hadn't quite sunk in yet. I was sure it would, at the least-appropriate time, but for the moment? I could sit back, relax, and enjoy the colors of Equestria in autumn. In the middle of my reverie, however, Celestia’s distinctive mane wafted into my field of view. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Our last visitors weren’t as peaceable as you are, and I had to take certain steps to ensure my little ponies would be safe.” There was a brief shuffle of her wings as I sat up and looked over at her. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I wish I could say it wasn't my intent, but…”
“The way I understand it? Something similar happened in the past, it was bad, and you were afraid it was happening again.” I shrugged. “You were acting in the best interests of your population with the information you had available.”
“Exactly.” Celestia nodded, a thin smile gracing her lips. “If it’s any consolation, I would have felt absolutely horrible if I’d had to incinerate you.”
“I’d say I would've felt horrible too, but I somehow doubt I would've felt anything aside from a very brief flash of heat.” I couldn't help but grin. “And for the record? If you feel I have to go for the good of your nation, I won’t take it personally. Just make sure I don’t see it coming?”
“Fatalistic much?” Celestia glanced over to see if Twilight was still working on the portal, then she stuck her tongue out at me. Just long enough for me to notice, without risking Twilight picking up on it too. “Apologies aside, I did have another reason for speaking with you. May I see the ring you’re wearing?”
“My ring?” It took me a moment to realize she was talking about the dice ring on my left hand. It was a simple steel ring with a pair of smaller free-spinning bands on it, and it was imprinted with the right dividing sections and numbers to serve in place of a set of FUDGE dice. I’d picked it up ages ago, and had worn it so long I’d forgotten I was wearing it. So I held up my hand, confused. “This old thing?”
“Hm.” There was a tingle of static as Celestia’s magic engulfed the ring, then slid it off my finger. “Steel, as well as a touch of your essence, and the elemental purity is more than sufficient to make it an excellent carrier for spellwork.” Her horn flared, setting the ring spinning freely in space. “It will make a fantastic passkey.”
I blinked as she settled the ring back on the appropriate finger. “So...what? In order to come back, I just need to be wearing my ring?”
Celestia nodded. “The spell is keyed to your unique biological signature, and will open the portal when you’re near it. Only you and any inanimate objects with you will be allowed through.”
“Done!” Twilight announced from her position by the gateway. “Did you find something to use as the key?”
“Indeed I did, Twilight. You were right, by the way. Their metallurgy is quite impressive.” Celestia glanced up at the sky, which was just starting to dim. “Goodness, the time got away from me. Lulu will be terribly mad if I’m not back in time to watch her raise the moon. I trust you can take care of matters from here?”
“What’s there to do? Hold his hoof while he walks through?” Twilight gave a dismissive wave of a wing. “Go, be with your sister. Heck, read that dossier I sent. The whole thing this time, Celestia. Not just the summary on the first page.” Twilight smirked. “It’s quite informative.”
“With you, I would expect nothing less. I look forward to seeing both of you again, under considerably less distressing circumstances.” Celestia treated the both of us to a genuine smile, then disappeared in a flash of light and a gentle pop of air rushing to fill a void.
Twilight visibly sagged. “I’m sorry about all that. I've never seen her like that before, not even when changelings tried to invade during my brother’s wedding…”
“Hey, it’s alright. All three of us are walking away unharmed.” I blew out a sigh, finally standing up from my bike and extending the kickstand. I considered myself lucky that there wasn't a wet spot. “Not that I wasn't worried, though. Geez, she’s intimidating when she wants to be…”
“No, I’m serious. I didn’t know that side of her existed.” Twilight kept shuffling and re-shuffling her wings, like she couldn't get comfortable. “I thought for sure-”
“Twilight.” Yes, I dared to interrupt her. After facing down The Unconquered Sun, I think I was entitled to at least one breach of etiquette. “It all turned out okay. Right now, that’s what matters. Not what could have happened, but what did happen.” I stretched, popping several joints in the process, then set about the busywork of clipping all my various night-riding lights to my bike. “You are the first pony to find a naturally-occurring dimensional portal that doesn't have an outright hostile race on the other side, and if I’m reading the subtext of your conversation right? You - not any other pony, you - have free reign to learn about us. Imagine the papers you could write on how we've adapted to a magic-free lifestyle.”
“Y’know, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound that bad at all.” Twilight giggled, even as she watched in fascination as I turned my bike into a rolling rave. “I wouldn't blame you if you need some time to think about coming back. Take however long you need. The spell on your ring is self-sustaining, and the barrier on the portal can run for thousands of years between recharges.”
“Good to know I have options, kid.” I could feel the adrenaline crash creeping up on me, and it was all I could do to not run screaming through the portal. Instead, I knelt down. “C’mere. After all that, I think we could both use a hug.”
“As long as you don’t grab my cutie marks. Spike thinks it’s an absolute laugh riot to make me jump like that.” Twilight rolled her eyes as she walked over. “So, uh, how should this…?”
“Forelegs up over my shoulders would probably be easiest.” I held my arms open as she reared up, unsteadily resting her cannons on my shoulders. “Relax, I’m not made of glass. Go ahead and lean in.”
Sure enough, I felt my knees sink into the dirt a bit as Twilight settled against me. “You were right, I did need this. Thanks.” I let my arms settle around her barrel, and aside from a few errant wing-twitches, she didn’t seem to mind.
I took a deep breath, slowly and deliberately fighting off panic. Oddly enough, it did help a bit, and I gave her a squeeze. “S’what friends are for, right?”
“One of many things, but I think that hugs are one of the more important ones.” Twilight giggled and returned the friendly squeeze, then disentangled herself from me with a few well-timed flaps of her wings. “You know, I’ve written a thesis on the magic of friendship if you’re interested in reading it.”
Oh shitsnacks. I was about to get a grad student talking about their thesis.
I could handle being thrust headlong into a magical land of talking technicolor ponies that I only thought existed in children’s animation. I could handle being interrogated by The Unconquered Sun. But getting a grad student going about their thesis? That was where I drew the line. “Sounds interesting, but maybe some other time?” I made a show of peering through the portal as I stood up and dusted my legs off. “I might have plenty of visibility lights on me, but I still kinda want to get home while there’s still some light in the sky.”
“Oh, I completely understand, I should get going too. Spike’s probably worried sick about me by now.” Twilight gestured to the portal with a wing. “Feel free to come back any time. The gateway spell will let Celestia and I know when you return.”
Right. Because knowing that was going to settle my nerves. I put the bike’s kickstand up, mounted up, and clipped a foot in to get ready. “I’m gonna be busy for a while, but I’ll see you when I see you. Take care of yourself, alright? No talking to strange hairless apes while I’m not here?”
“I’ll certainly try not to do that.” She giggled and took to the air, waving. “See you soon!”
I gave her a thumbs-up, purely on reflex, and shoved off. I was up to speed in less than a second, and through the portal an instant after that. Aside from a full-body tingle, there was no obvious sign I was back home.
Then I heard cars in the distance, and I nearly whooped with glee. A glance to the west showed the telltale haze of light pollution from sodium-vapor street lights. I’m positive that if someone needed to, they could’ve lit a stadium with my grin. Once I got back to the paved trail I stopped to turn my bike computer back on, and laughed triumphantly as it wasted no time getting satellite locks.
I was elated. I was the first person that I knew of to visit another world, face down an entity that could have killed me as easily as I kill bacteria when I wash my hands, and return. Hell, I even had an open invitation to come back! Sweet, sweet endorphins flooded my brain as I rode back home, easily keeping pace with the evening’s stop-and-go vehicular traffic once I got back to the road.
I had never felt better in my life. I was, beyond any shadow of a doubt, alive. I went so far as to tack an extra ten miles onto my route home, just for the sheer joy of it. If my life had a soundtrack at that point, it most definitely would have been a little something by a band called Queen. You may have heard of them.
When I got home, everything blurred together. I know I got my bike inside and stripped down, then I jumped in the shower. I’m not proud, I sang while I was in there. Yes, at nine at night. The neighbors could nut up and deal with it.
Then I got out of the shower and, in the middle of toweling myself off, caught a glance of myself in the mirror.
I looked like I was one small step away from turning into a psychopathic axe murderer.
That’s when it finally hit me. I nearly died less than three hours ago.
I took a deep breath, pulled on my lounge pants and a fresh shirt, and headed for the liquor cabinet. Once I was there, I very deliberately mixed myself a rum and rum. It’s like a rum and coke, only you substitute rum for the coke. After adding ice - you try drinking warm rum - I went to my desk and dug out a lighter and a half-empty pack of five-year-old cigarettes. It was a filthy habit, one I’d been able to get under control, but at that moment in time I just could not find enough fucks to give about my health.
Intoxicants in hand, I walked out onto my apartment’s balcony and collapsed into a time-weathered piece of patio furniture. Fall in California isn't terribly uncomfortable as long as the wind’s not blowing, and it wasn't. I set my drink on the equally-battered card table I kept nearby, stuck a cigarette in one corner of my mouth, and lit up.
I spent the next hour or two out there, alternating between puffs of cigarette and sips of rum, staring at the night sky and slowly coming to terms with the fact that I’d cheated death. I only came inside when I ran out of rum and cigarettes, and my bladder informed me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t find a toilet soon it was going to open the very literal floodgates.
After taking care of business, I made my way to bed. Or rather, I stumbled into my bedroom and fell into bed. The instant my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
The sun blazed in the window and I woke up with a start, reeking of booze and cigarettes. I grumbled something that might have been language at some distant point in humanity’s past, rolled out of bed, and instinctively made my way towards the bathroom. Not only did I have a freakishly realistic dream, I’d remembered most of it too. I wasn’t used to that, and I pondered the implications as I scrubbed myself down in the shower. Maybe all that practice at lucid dreaming was paying off?
Regardless, I found myself in a good mood as I hustled through my morning routine. I was even humming to myself as I started the dishwasher and coffee maker. While the appliances did their thing, I got my shit together for class. You’re probably familiar with the routine, so I won’t bore you with all the trivial little details, but one thing did jump out at me. There was some sort of grit caught in the spinning bands of my dice ring. So, being the diligent owner I am, I went to give it a quick cleaning in the bathroom sink. A bit of hot water and some soap go a long way, and I managed to get whatever was stuck between the pieces of steel out. Not much to it, really, but something on the inside of the ring caught my eye as I was drying it off, and I took a closer look.
Instead of the company logo I’d grown so used to seeing on the inside of my ring, Celestia’s cutie mark was staring back at me.
Naturally, I swore. Profusely, with incredible volume, and at great length. I may have wilted the tomato plants growing on the neighbor’s balcony, and a nun may have caught fire somewhere on the planet, but I had no way to be sure if either of those things actually happened.
Once I settled down, I pinched myself. Hard enough to draw blood, in fact, and that instantly disproved the hypothesis that said I was still dreaming. Which meant that everything I’d thought I dreamt up last night… had actually happened.
The frantic beeping of the coffeemaker finally snapped me out of my stupor. I shoved the ring back onto my finger, while giving a tremendous mental shove to the concerns that swarmed around the concept of Equestria is a real place and you can go there any time you want.
I had classes to get to, damnit. Mundane concerns came first, come hell or high water.
The rest of my day went by in a blur of sound and color. Classes were uneventful - if you don’t count watching freshmen accidentally light entire material samples on fire, that is - and I eventually found myself back at home. Rather than bother cooking I ordered a pizza, and I spent the time between placing my order and answering the door doing one thing I was good at: thinking.
I wasn’t going to go back to Equestria today. No way in hell. I still needed time to process what’d happened yesterday. A ghost of that raw animalistic terror I’d felt while facing down The Unconquered Sun drifted into my mind, and I fought off the urge to drown it in alcohol the way I had the previous night. That’s a quick trip to the ER for alcohol poisoning if I ever heard of one.
Instead, after I ate dinner, I spent the rest of the evening on three time-tested ways to forget about worldly troubles: Homework, video games, and television. The rest of the week proceeded in much the same way. Wake up, be a responsible adult, slack off. Wake up, be a responsible adult, slack off. Wake up, be a responsible adult, slack off.
I’ll be honest here, it was boring. Productive, educational, but ultimately boring. When Saturday rolled around and I finally had some free time, I sat down on the couch and told myself to confront the facts. Fact one: I had visited Equestria, unintentionally, and I had proof.
Not only was my ring visibly altered, but there were several hours missing on my bike computer’s GPS tracking, and my phone’s browser history showed that I’d watched a clip of the Apollo 11 moon landing at around the right time. All ultimately circumstantial, but I couldn’t leave it at that. It was too damned tempting.
Fact two: In addition to inadvertently visiting Equestria, I had an open invitation to return. Granted, I’d be supervised by the Book Princess the whole time I was there, but I could imagine worse fates than that.
But why would I return now? It’d only been a week, and I did have a fairly major test coming up. I couldn’t just go swanning off to another world on a whim. ...But if I planned for it, it wouldn’t be on a whim, now would it?
That settled it. I was going back. Not today, not tomorrow, but at the end of the month. That would give me enough time to plan things out and pack up some essentials, while also giving me time to deal with my obligations here at home. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled out my phone and made an appointment in my digital calendar.
9 AM, September 30th 2014: Go back. Bring phys/geo/bio/engl. texts.
I spent the rest of the day doing decidedly mundane things. Cleaning the apartment, taking out the trash, cooking, things like that. I even went for a ride to the supermarket to do some shopping, mostly to restock my cupboards and fridge, but I made a point to grab some canned goods. I had no idea if I could eat Equestrian foods, after all, so it made sense in my mind to bring along a can or two of ravioli or whatever until I could find out for sure.
The last thing that passed through my mind as I lay down to sleep was that I was going back to Equestria, and this time? I was bringing science with me.
