Equestria as examined by a former human being: or the effects of writing a moderately well sold book
To any human that has found this book, I hope that you never have to experience the events that I did as I was ripped from our world and into this one. If you do end up in Equestria then hopefully this book can help you in your attempts to integrate into the new world that you have arrived into. The fact that you are reading this in the first place shows that you have the time and dedication needed to translate Equestrian into English (most likely using the convenient translation guide in the back of the book). This book may just save your life.
To any ponies reading this book. I ask that you enjoy the experience of witnessing your own culture through the eyes of an alien. A being from a world vastly different from the one you know. Don't worry though, I mean no harm. Like you, I am just a pony struggling to find a place in this world. If my experience makes it easier for another then it is my duty to share it with the world. You might even enjoy your time reading it.
Blank Slate never imagined the events that would occur after writing a semi-successful book. Most of his readers never imagined that the book was autobiographical.
The worst thing about my entire situation has got to be the food.
Now don’t get me wrong, Equestrian food is amazing. Since coming here I’ve discovered the joys of daisies, vegetables have never tasted so good, and the fruits practically explode with flavor. Despite that, there is still something I’ve missed eating over the past twenty-five years that I’m sure anyone in my position would miss.
I miss meat. Steaks cooked well-done, chicken battered and fried, bacon! For all that is good in this world, I would give it up just to be able to eat one more slice of bacon. I know we ponies can eat some meats, but I get tired of meager portions of fish. Plus, I’ve talked to several cows myself and I would never condone the killing of another sapient creature just to fill the empty void where meat once live.
I should explain. Though I appear as a pony, and have been one for twenty-five years, I was once something entirely different: I was a human. I won’t bore the average Equestrian that decided to read my book with descriptions of what I looked like, as that really doesn’t matter to me. Any human reading this, if any, would already know what they look like - so really the point is moot.
Instead, this chapter serves to help my fellow humans get used to the small and typically unremarkable things that will be lost upon becoming a pony. It’s amazing how that which was once inconsequential can become something that causes your entire day to come to a screeching halt as you consider the differences between humans and ponies. It’s the little things that have the biggest effects.
It’s not that physically becoming a pony is easy. As I detail in a later portion of this book, transformation magic is either instant and painless - one moment you’re human and then stop: ponytime - or it’s slow and agonizing as you feel your square peg get forced into a round hole.
But, and I say this with complete sincerity: I miss popping my knuckles. Cognitively, I know that magic can do everything that hands can do and far, far more than that. I just miss the sharp shock and instant relief that came from the sensation. Posture is another thing you’ll miss; I swear I regret it every day that I didn’t sit or walk with good posture, as for the entirety of my time as a pony I have felt like I am slumping over about to fall the moment I think about how walking actually works.
Makes me glad I’m not a pegasus. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one; I just would have crashed and burned a long time ago. There are times I still try to walk around on my rear hooves before falling on my face. I’m clumsy enough as it is without extra appendages.
One thing I’m sure that someone from my generation would miss has got to be the Internet. For the ponies reading this book, the Internet is a concept far too immense to capture here. In it’s basest form it was a way of connecting computers together to share data. Modern Equestrian computers are still far from capable of this feat. Human computers started that way, too, and they would eventually become a device that was given so little thought that it was expected that you carry one with you in your pocket.
Looking back, I don’t see how I ever could have done that. For all you ponies out there, imagine a great library filled with almost everything ever written. Imagine the ability to access that accumulated sum of knowledge at the press of a button, from anywhere. Imagine being able to instantly communicate with somepony on the complete opposite side of the world.
Got it? Now I want you to imagine that technology becoming so commonplace that it is taken for granted by the general population. Equestrian technology is progressing at an amazing rate, but everything I see reminds of what I lost. By the Moon’s light, Equestria has only just invented color television, and even with that I’m more likely to find a radio is somepony’s house.
My point here is that our worlds are so incredibly different. It’s easy to forget that sometimes. When I see trains, coffee shops, fast food restaurants, these things make me forget sometimes that the world I live in is not my first. Ponies are like humans in a lot of ways, but it’s the little differences that get to you. Adjusting to food, to new beings, to having your entire worldview shattered into millions of tiny pieces. You know, little things. In twenty five years as a pony I, still can’t see the differences between two faces. I’ve given up hope that I ever will - but then again, I was never good with faces as a human. It gives me a source of comfort knowing that I’m still not good at recognizing ponies. It helps me remember who I am, and who I was.
I suggest you find something to hold on to as well, oh fellow-human-turned-pony. You may encounter ponies who will deny that you could ever have existed as you remember; you may encounter ponies who don’t understand why you can’t perform the most basic of tasks; you may encounter new experiences and new sensations that feel far more real than anything you remember feeling as a human. You may even start to question your prior humanity. All I can say is that you should hold on to your past. Learn from it. You just might have been given the second chance you never knew you needed in life.
Besides, being a pony ain’t so bad. I’ve seen earth ponies destroy massive boulders with less force that I would use to pop a balloon. I’ve seen a pegasus break the sound barrier, unaided by any enhancing equipment or technology. I’ve the most miraculous displays of magic that the greatest and most powerful of unicorns can conjure up. As a human I ignored the wonders around me, but I implore any former humans and all ponies to look for these amazing feats performed by ponies. We live in a world of magic, and it is filled to the brim with fantastical things that I still don’t understand. Anything can happen here. Impossible is merely unlikely.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss bacon. By all of Luna’s Stars, my best dreams are the ones where I can eat bacon.
Blank Slate stared at the letter his publisher had sent him. He had already read it twice, and a third time through wouldn’t change its contents. Nor would that action change the contents of the check now sitting on his desk. In truth, the number of zeroes on it was close to the amount predicted by the publisher - but Blank Slate had thought number just a bit too high in the first place.
Yet there was no denying it: The Human’s Guide to Equestria had become a moderate success. It wasn’t topping any best sellers’ lists, but it had been purchased by a not insignificant number ponies. And maybe some of those that bought it had actually read it!
And maybe it found her.
A knock at the door shook Blank Slate from his thoughts. “Come in, Crystal!” he yelled from his desk. The door opened and revealed a young pony, not yet done with the last of the changes brought by her teenage years.
“How did you know it was me, sir?” Even after her recent sessions and her work under a licensed therapist, her voice still shook when talking to someone in authority. The crystal ponies are a bit skittish when others seem to know exactly what they are doing.
“Crystal, we’ve been over this. First off, you’re the only one who could possibly be here right now. B, you always knock in the same way. Three, yes you may go home for the night. I can close up shop.” Blank Slate knew Crystal’s questions by heart at this point: most of them had been asked on repeat since she started working for him.
“Thank you Mr. Slate, sir. I shall see you in the morning”. Slate waved her off, his prior attempts to have her drop the honorifics all having ended in failure. With his assistant gone he turned back to the letter and its contents. It seems that his book had received enough sales for a first time author that someone had wanted an interview. An actual interview with the writer of a potential new genre of science fiction literature. Blank Slate thought that sounded pretentious, but to those who didn’t know the origins of the book science fiction would best describe it...
He considered it auto-biographical.
He pondered what would happen if he told the truth as he walked home through the Crystal City. Would he be locked up as delusional? Would his license to practice be revoked? Would his house, given to him by the state for moving here, be revoked? Blank Slate stopped where he was and attempted to slow his breathing. A panic attack. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced one, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Fortunately there were few other ponies trotting around.
Blank Slate knew the risks of publishing his life story. He knew that it would most likely be treated as fiction. It gave him leeway. It let him be on the same page as everypony else, and let him get his message out to anyone that might be in the same situation as him. He knew that last part was unlikely. He was a billion to one chance: a surge of wild magic bridging the gap between worlds. A complete fluke. Yet there was a chance that this world contained another human in disguise.
At least one other.
In his panic he hadn’t noticed that he had stopped outside of a Hey Burger! Now that his panic had left him, hunger filled the gap. After a brief moment of thought, Blank Slate decided to celebrate his newfound moderate success and splurge on fast food. Besides, he didn’t feel like cooking that night.
The first thing he did when he returned home was remove his glasses and curse whatever was behind the magic that brought him here for making him near sighted. The second thing he did was to float his hay burger onto the table. Even after living in the Crystal City for three years, the fact that Hey Burger! was the fast food of choice still baffled him. Not just because he preferred Great Grif’s. Three years and the only franchise that sold fish still hadn’t spread here. Blank Slate missed meat.
Regardless of the lack of seafood, Blank Slate liked living in the Crystal Empire. It was a beautiful place, and the population still needed help. Sombra had done such terrible things to the Crystal Ponies that a therapist was in high demand. It also helped that he knew what it was like to discover that everything you knew and loved had changed overnight and almost nothing was recognizable. To find that you were cut off from people you loved. That you never got to say good bye. That after all this time you were unsure if the person you loved most in any world had even...
Calm down. Just another panic attack.
His hay burger was undercooked tonight. That was the other reason Blank Slate preferred Great Grif’s - they always got his order right.
Not that the Crystal Empire didn’t have its own delicacies. Crystal Wine and filtered light were indescribable to those who lacked the ability to process raw magic. The ranchers who had been serfs under Sombra lived like princes now that they had control over their own profits.
His meal finished, Blank Slate decided to write back to his publisher. He had too many clients to head back to Canterlot for an interview, but if it could be recorded at the Crystal Empire’s new radio broadcast tower he’d be happy to do it. Even treating it as fiction, he felt that his book could help those who found themselves in a new world- one way or another. Interviews were fun anyway, especially for something as simple as this. It wasn’t like when he was younger. There was less riding on this.
First thing in the morning he would send it off. For now, though, he would read more of the new Daring Do before bed. For the most part, today had been a great day. His clients had made great progress, Crystal Shards almost considered calling him Slate, and he had discovered that his book had become a moderate success. If his luck kept up, maybe he’d even get a good night’s rest.
That night, like almost every night, the worst dream and the most beautiful nightmare played in his sleep.
The biggest differences between the cultures of Earth and the cultures of Equestria revolve around clothing. Humans have very few patches of thick hair, and easily damaged skin. Somewhere in our evolution we developed clothing as a way to protect our bodies from the harsh elements, a kind of make-shift pelt. Thick furs cured from animals we hunted and fibers woven from plants we harvested protected us from the sun, the snow, and each other.
Clothing easily became a symbol of status: the wealthy wore clothes of the highest caliber while the poor wore whatever covered them sufficiently. As time went on, it became commonplace for civilized people to wear clothing covering almost the entire body, though I will admit that in warmer areas and warmer seasons they occasionally wore only what covered the most sensitive parts of human anatomy. Still, they wore clothing.
In fact, there is a word just for people who chose to spend their time in private and in specially marked area without clothing. They were nudists. I mention this for one very important reason, something I think any human in Equestria needs to understand if they find themselves stranded here. I know I would have been spared a great deal of embarrassment had I know this fact ahead of time.
Everypony in Equestria - including the Princesses - is a nudist. In all but a few situations, every pony I have ever met has been comfortable going around completely in the nude.
Somehow, I did not realize this when I first arrived in Equestria.
To be fair, I was a bit distracted. My trip here was excruciatingly unpleasant. I had arrived here through a surge of wild magic, that bent and broke my body until it fit into this world. My first memory of Equestria involved being curled up in pain, surrounded by snow, and utterly alone. Thankfully, whatever force is behind the magic that brought me here melted the snow under me; leaving a comfortable bed of grass. It also created a pillar of light, which led a pair of Night Guards to discover me. Lastly - and this one I didn’t notice until I was in the hospital - it turned me into a colt.
Again: I was not in the most observant state of mind. I hadn’t even noticed I was no longer human. By the Moon’s many craters, I didn’t have the capacity to recognize that I was no longer an adult. I cannot stress how much pain the wild magic put me through. But I would come to discover that the transformation was only the beginning.
Before I continue, I should mention something that may have occurred to you. I did not speak Equestrian when I landed here: I spoke English, my native language. For those that attempt the translation guide in the back of the book; the closest analogue this world has would have to be Griffish. Even then, English and Griffish are third cousins twice removed. For any English-speaking humans reading this: Equestrian sounds like Latin, filtered through Mandarin, and spiced with Navajo. With a side serving of Klingon.
After my brief period of unconsciousness in the snow, I awoke to a nurse checking my vitals. The fact the the nurse was a pony had me screaming in terror. It was only then that I noticed I was no longer human. That was when the nightmare-like terror ended and true panic began. In retrospect, I’m rather impressed with how quickly they sedated a foal flailing about, screaming in gibberish. It was English, and I had been yelling about which orifices I was going to shove their heads into should they not immediately turn me back into a human. At least I think I did; my memory of that moment is very blurry. Those were some pretty good sedatives.
I was much calmer the second time I awoke - probably because of the drugs. That time I was all alone. Without the immediate panic from the previous encounter, I was able to piece together my situation - though logic wasn’t helping very much. I would try and move my limbs, but without the adrenaline of panic all I could do was flop them about. The sheer size of the nurse I had seen earlier probably meant I was younger than I used to be, I had guessed. And none of the rest of what I reasoned out made any more sense than that. I’m not ashamed to admit that I spent that night in tears. At some point a nurse came in to check on me; I am eternally grateful that she held me until I fell back into an exhausted sleep.
The next portion of my foalhood I share with great embarrassment. I put it here, with so many other things, in order to prepare any who arrive here under the same or similar circumstances for the humiliation that would follow. My time as a colt is the one thing that I am thankful that the wild magic giving me. Embarrassed as I was, I know it would have been immeasurably worse as a stallion.
I quickly discovered many things after I awoke for the third time in Equestria. The first, simplest, and potentially most problematic thing was that I couldn’t speak the language. I couldn’t piece together any of the words, let alone the sentence structure, that the nurse that was assigned to me was using. The second thing I discovered was that my brain had yet to grow accustomed to the signals my new body was sending me: I couldn’t walk, I could barely speak. I couldn’t do much of anything at all. The doctors at the hospital assumed that I was approximately seven or eight years old; for my first week in Equestria, though, I may have been a newborn for all it mattered. I would later learn that the doctors assumed that I had been severely neglected or had had my memory wiped by parents who didn’t want me. Or both.
I also learned that there had been a major hunt led by the Solar Guard in search of them.
Fortunately, I was a smart man on Earth, and I retained that intelligence as a colt. Within a week I was able to communicate somewhat above the most basic level, and I no longer fell on my face when I tried to walk (as long as I didn’t actually think about walking). I was progressing extremely quickly in most areas. Within two weeks I was allowed to join the colts and fillies in general pediatric care.
One thing that is consistent between Equestria and Earth, and probably any other world, is that juveniles have the potential to be the nicest, most generous things around - and the potential to the the most cruel creatures one will ever meet. When I was moved into general pediatric care I had yet to realize that ponies, in general, were nudists. The doctors and the nurses all wore lab coats, so I thought that clothing was worn by everypony, with my partial nudity caused by my situation. I say partial, because at the time I had yet to fully master all the aspects of my young and newly transformed body. Before being switched over I managed to successfully ask for something that could cover what I saw as a massive humiliation. I was actually proud of myself for communicating my desires so well. The nurse who gave me the pants probably just thought they’d be adorable on me. Adults are ignorant like that.
In a culture that does not wear clothing for modesty, clothing is typically worn for accessory or utility. For some it signifies status, for some it is beauty, and for some it is simply a pragmatic part of a job. There are many of reasons ponies wear clothes, and very few of them revolve around hiding something.
And so the majority of the foals in general pediatric care were introduced to me, and I noticed that all but a few were naked. The other foals, however, noticed very quickly that the pants that were meant to hide my humiliation served only accentuate the fact that a foal of seven or eight years had yet to master a basic bodily function. I was teased mercilessly until the day I left that place.
So to any humans that find themselves in a body they cannot control, in a culture they don’t understand: know that you will be embarrassed. You will insult someone by accident; you will trip over yourself, and others, and inanimate objects; and you will find yourself relying on other ponies more than you’d ever expect.
However, in time, you may just find a home away from home.
Doorbells are, quite possibly, the worst invention in any world. They are loud, obnoxious, and tend to leave bad dreams and good nightmares unfinished. They are quite good at waking sleeping ponies, however.
Rising out of bed, a man saw a stallion in his mirror. Light brown mane, beige fur, green eyes; it took the man a moment to recognize himself. It’s just your reflection Ca… Slate. You see it every morning. Indeed, Blank Slate’s bedroom was designed so that the mirror was the first thing he would see every morning. Glasses quickly found their way in front of his eyes as Blank Slate went to see the sort of monster that would ring a doorbell before eight in the morning.
“Doe! Open the door, dude!” A voice called out, stopping Blank Slate in his tracks. If it was who he thought it was, some minor revenge for the early morning wake up call was required. Even if it wasn’t, a tart reply was in order, but he didn’t know many ponies that would make him a personal call at this ungodly hour. Besides, there were only a handful of people that knew him as Doe.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone here who goes by Doe. Maybe if you could tell me your name, I could leave a message,” Blank Slate said with a cheerful smirk. The pony on the other side of the door let out an audible groan. Good. He knows I don’t go by that name anymore.
“Oh, come on. It’s me, Major Key. You know me.” Obviously. Blank Slate had been using this time to prepare for his day: ensuring that his mane was brushed, and that his tail was braided as he liked; cleaning his glasses; and making sure his bit-bag, the keys to his practice, and his reply to the publishers were all tucked safely into the pockets of his favorite vest. Despite all his years in Equestria, Blank Slate still couldn’t bring himself go about in public without some form of clothing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anypony named Major Key.” If Blank Slate knew this pony as well as he thought, then his friend should be the first to give up this game they were playing.
“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you.” Blank Slate made no audible reply. “Fine. It’s Riff Raff, and I’m sorry for ringing your doorbell so early in the morning.” At that, Blank Slate immediately opened the door to greet his best friend.
“You know I don’t like waking up early, Riff,” Blank Slate knew he had won this time. “And you know I haven’t gone by Doe since I got my Cutie Mark.” Blank Slate and Major Key did this every time they met up. The two had grown up together in the same foster home, and had been neighbors in the same hospital before that. The doctors had put them together, assuming that they had similar backgrounds.
Blank Slate may have had some difficulty telling ponies apart, but he’d never forget his best friend. “So. What’s so important you had to wake me up early?” Major Key knew that Blank Slate despised waking up early. It was always a joke between the two that Blank Slate had morning colors (cream with a dash of coffee, just how he liked it), while Major Key had the night ones - yet neither could be awake at those times.
“Coffee!” Key exclaimed with his usual amount of flourish, lifting hoof and wing in tandem as an additional punctuation of excitement. “My treat. So, what say you?” Cue the sad pegasus eyes. Blank Slate had a theory that pegasi were able to make tiny rain clouds to help make their eyes look extra sad on the occasions that such a look was needed.
Blank Slate never could say no to that face. He could never say no to coffee either.
“When have I ever said no free coffee?”
The Moon Hart was quite possibly the best coffee house in the Crystal City, in Blank Slate’s humble opinion. The coffee was mixed to perfection; plenty of sweet, not too bitter, and the perfect amount of white chocolate. As per usual when the two met up for coffee, Blank Slate couldn’t help but ignore the cheerful morning small talk of the decaf-lover to his right.
“You’re not paying attention to me are you, Doe?” The flat, unamused look from the other side of the large mug of coffee was enough of an answer for Major Key. “I swear, you’re worse than a brick wall in the morning. I was trying to tell you that the barista was checking you out.” Blank Slate turned to look where his friend was angling his head. Indeed, the barista at the counter blushed a little and turned away once she noticed Blank Slate had seen her.
“You know I have no interest in dating crystal ponies, Riff. Besides, she could have been checking you out.” It wasn’t that Blank Slate didn’t think they were pretty; there was a good reason that many crystal ponies made a nice living as models. It was just that he’d spoken with so many of them as a therapist, and it wasn’t professional to date clients. The fact that he couldn’t tell them apart more than half the time and that there was an over sixty percent chance that they were named “Crystal something” didn’t help matters.
Unknowingly to him, that room contained a Crystal Cauldron; a Crystal Shield; a Crystal Pin; two Crystal Gems; and the barista, Crystal Cup.
“You and I both know she wasn’t checking me out. Especially since I don’t have class today,” Riff gestured to himself, brushing off the implied compliment; his dark blue fur still had the fresh-out-of-bed look, and his mane and tail could be mistaken for mops with how unruly they were. His wing was preened though. Major Key always made sure his wing was well cared for. “Besides, you know I’d rather have that baristo in the back,” Key said while pointing out the well-groomed and well-preened stallion grinding beans in the back.
“Was the innuendo necessary?”
“Yes.”
Slate’s snout hit the table. Sometimes he wondered why he still hung out with Major Key. “I don’t think baristo is even a word.”
“Are you insinuating that I would make up a word? I? You wound me, that you expect such behavior from me. I may just have to rescind my offer of free coffee.” Major Key tried to keep a straight face, which lasted only a second or two before he burst into snorting laughter. “Nah you’re right. I have no idea if that is a real word.”
Blank Slate rolled his eyes. Major Key had always been just a bit flamboyant. As much as Slate complained, it was one of his favorite things about his childhood friend. Even as a colt, he had tried to find the humor in any situation. Even if that humor could be somewhat crass at times.
“So, I assume you didn’t come over early in the morning to chat about cute baristas and baristos with me.” As much as he enjoyed their time together, Blank Slate did have a few patients to take care of today. All in the afternoon, of course.
Major Key’s expression softened at that. “It was actually about your book. Why’d you let it be published as fiction?” Blank Slate had been worried that his friend would ask that. Major Key had been there for his nightmares in the hospital, and he was there for the dreams afterward. Blank Slate had long ago told Major Key, back when they were Doe and Riff Raff, about his life as a human. He’d been afraid that Riff wouldn’t believe him; the doctors didn’t, the nurses didn’t. There were even a few times he didn’t believe it himself. But Riff Raff did, and as they grew up Riff Raff believed in Blank Slate even when Slate doubted himself. It had taken Blank Slate a while to realize it, but Major Key would never doubt him.
“Because that’s the best way I could get the story out. I needed to get it out, and that was the only way I could think of.” What smile had been on Slate’s face was gone. “Besides, I told you before. I wasn’t alone. I still have the dreams and the nightmares, Riff. If there’s any chance she is still alive. Any chance at all.” Blank Slate let the sentence end. No more needed to be said.
Major Key scooted his chair closer the Blank Slate to comfort his friend. No words need to pass between them.
“I’ve been offered an interview. I’m going to take it. If this works…”
The following statement my shock and disturb some ponies. Reader discretion is advised.
Humans do not have magic.
I know: shocking. Humans lack the internal systems necessary for controlling the magic of the world around them. Everything humans know about magic places it firmly in the realm of fiction and mythology. I still remember the feeling of awe from the first time I managed to lift something in my telekinetic field. I was so excited that I wore myself out trying to lift everything I could find: books, old toys, my best friend. Nothing was off limits - until I passed out from magical exhaustion. I’m sure there’s a picture of that somewhere.
As with the description of the technology of my people earlier in this book, ponies take their magic for granted. As someone who lived twenty-four years without it, I decided to learn as much as I possibly could on the subject. In my studies of pony magic, I have found what I consider five distinct forms of magic: unicorn, pegasus, earth, alicorn, and wild. Additionally, each of these forms have countless branches leading to an almost dizzying array of ways that magic can affect the environment.
I will admit that I am very biased toward pony magic over other species, and among ponies I know the most about unicorns - mostly because I am one. This chapter is not meant to be a guide to all things magical. Rather, it is merely meant to prepare humans who are unused to magic for a world filled to bursting with it. Any who wish to for more detailed information can see the reference section at the back of the book.
The forms of magic accessible by ponies are channelled differently between the subspecies. Unicorns have the most visible of magics, as it is willed through their horns. When a unicorn wishes to shape their own magical field into a spell, it is done primarily by willing the magic into a shape or pattern. This gives unicorns a great deal of flexibility when it comes to spell casting, allowing for what humans would understand as a spell.
Sadly, not every unicorn is a master wizard. Despite the flexibility available, most unicorns are limited by their Cutie Marks. The Cutie Mark greatly increases the strength of a pony’s magic - when they act accordingly. This means that if a unicorn had a Mark for pyromancy, then anything that related to fire in any way would be easier for them to cast. However, if that pony was asked to condense the water vapor in the air into a drinkable form, it would be incredibly difficult for them to do so.
In contrast, pegasi have the loudest magic of your average pony. If unicorns will magic into shape, then pegasi force magic to react to their actions. An old saying here is that unicorns think while pegasi act. Pegasus magic also tends to focus on four domains: air, flight, electricity, and light. To cast, pegasi channel the magic from their wings out through the rest of the body before spreading it into the world around them. Pegasus magic is also easier to work when multiple ponies are channelling together. A single, powerful pegasus could create a small tornado or engineer a thunderstorm, while a team of weak pegasi could make a hurricane. There is power in teamwork.
A question I know some humans - and maybe a few pegasi - might be considering is “what happens if a pegasus loses a one or even both wings?” Well, it’s similar to what happens to a unicorn with a broken or destroyed horn: part or all of their ability to cast is gone. For pegasi, this means that true flight is impossible as they would be unable to conjure a large enough field to aid in their flight. Should they be surrounded by other pegasi in the air, then some flight may occur - though not for long, and most of their power would be used for gliding back to the ground. Light, air, and electrical magic would still be possible, but as with flight they would be severely hampered.
Pegasi tend to be proud of their ability to fly, regardless of their Cutie Marks. Should you ever encounter a one-winged pegasus, I advise that you do not stare, you do not ask about it, and you do not bring attention to it.
While it’s easy to see the magical workings of unicorns and pegasi, the magic of earth ponies appears far more subdued. But, as Star Swirl the Bearded once said, "Do not meddle in the affairs of Earth ponies, for they are subtle and quick to anger." This subtlety does not make them any weaker magically than the other two. Earth pony magic rests within the ground, the trees, and the rocks. A team of two earth pony farmers can use their magic to nurture the ground in order to create more food than the most modern farms of my home world. An earth pony alchemist can brew a potion that heals injuries in seconds, or increase the drinker's physical abilities temporarily.
They can also brew the best alcohol in any world. This is a fact and I will gladly defend the honor of their brews against any who deny it.
In many ways, though, earth pony magic is the magic of life itself. They draw in and tame the wild magic more efficiently than any other subspecies. This ability also gives earth ponies increased stamina, strength, and resistance to all external factors. A powerful earth pony can keep working for days, and even weeks, after everypony else has collapsed.
Alicorn magic is its own special breed. There are currently five known alicorns, and of those one is an infant. The other four are the most powerful ponies on the planet. They are our immortal rulers - another thing that my world did not have - and they channel the three pony magics inside of them at a level far beyond any normal pony. With a mere thought, an alicorn can move the moon; with the flap of a wing they cause winds that would require dozens of pegasi to replicate; with a hoof step they could shatter the earth beneath them, or bring a barren landscape back to life. I have met some ponies that consider them gods, and I cannot blame them for their beliefs.
Where their power comes from is not yet fully understood, but my studies lead me to believe that, at the time of their ascension, they resonated so strongly with the wild magic that it changed their fundamental understanding and use of it. Note that this theory meets shaky ground when applied to Flurry Heart - we shall see how the infant princess enlightens the study of magic.
The last category of magic I mentioned is currently debated by Equestrian scholars. There is a, not insignificant, portion who believe that there is no wild magic. Yet no pony cast a spell to bring me here. Wild magic has a will of its own, and there is evidence that it exists all around us. The Everfree Forest near Canterlot is filled with so much magic that it cannot be tamed. Something certainly changed Princess Twilight from an ordinary, if clever, pony into the Princess of Friendship. We live and breathe magic every day of our lives, and it is inside every living and nonliving thing on this planet. It is a force that I believe is out to bring ponies together.
I have to believe that. Why else would it have brought me here?
Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since Blank Slate had told his publishers that he would be open to being interviewed about his book. One week had passed since his publishers gave him a time and a place. In one hour, Blank Slate would be asked speak about himself.
“Relax, Blank Slate, this isn’t the first time you’ve been interviewed,” said Major Key as he helped to prepare Blank Slate for his interview. “And would you stop fidgeting and let me tie your stupid tie?”
“I’m sorry, Major Key. I’m just nervous.” The constant pacing back and forth over the past hour had been a good sign of that. What if the interviewer didn’t like his answers? What if they decided to cancel at the last moment? What if it turned out that the the entire fate of Equestria somehow hinged on his actions tonight?
“You’re doing it again.” Blank Slate froze as he tried to calm down from another panic attack. “That’s the third one today, Blank Slate. You’re going to be fine, trust me. And when have I ever been wrong?” Major Key put on the most charismatic smile he could manage as he finished correcting Blank Slate’s tie - again.
“You’ve been wrong plenty of times, Major Key.” The familiar banter helped calm the anxious unicorn. “There was the time you convinced me to levitate you around the house, the time that you swore that you found a way into the private sections of Canterlot Castle, that awkward date you set me up on - should I list some more?”
“No, I get the point” Fortunately for Major Key, his dark fur prevented Blank Slate from seeing the red flush of embarrassment that crept up his cheeks. A quick glance at the clock showed that the time for banter was over anyway. “Come on, it’s time to be on the radio.” Major Key could see Blank Slate’s nerves taking hold of him again as they left for the studio. As a last ditch attempt to calm him down, Major Key held Blank Slate with his wing as they walked.
Unfortunately for Blank Slate, his light fur made it easy for Major Key to see his blush. “You’re gonna give ponies the wrong idea about us.” Blank Slate mumbled as he walked in his friend’s embrace.
“Let them talk Doe, you know I don’t care. Besides, you’re not pulling away.” It was true. If anypony cared to notice, it would seem that Blank Slate was even leaning into the wing hold. He couldn’t help it really; even when they were young, Blank Slate would calm down when Major Key held him like this.
“Thanks, Riff Raff.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind it.”
In a plain apartment in Manehattan, a radio was playing: background noise for cleaning day.
“You’re tuning in to Equestrian Public Radio. Bringing you the news of the nation. Today in entertainment news: we have the founding of four brand-new buckball teams leading to discussions about an official, national league to be formed; the location for next year’s Equestria Games has been narrowed down to two cities; and to start the show today we have our reporter Bright Eyes speaking with an up-and-coming author.”
“Thank you, Easy Anchor. This is Bright Eyes, reporting live from the Crystal Empire. Here with me today is Dr. Blank Slate, author of The Human’s Guide to Equestria. How are you today, Blank Slate?”
At the word human, a mare stopped cleaning. The radio that was once background noise now held her rapt attention.
“I’ll admit, I’m nervous. I’ve never been on the radio before. I was wearing a hole in my house from pacing back and forth.”
Blank Slate’s voice was familiar to the mare, despite never having heard it before. It was so similar to the voice that haunted her dreams and graced her nightmares.
“I actually get that from a lot of the ponies I interview. So, let’s start with something easy. What inspired you to write this book?”
“There were two main ideas behind it. The first was a thought experiment: how would somepony from a world so different from this one react to being pulled into it? The second idea that went into this book was based off dreams I had when I was younger. In fact, in a lot of ways this character’s life is based off of my own. Write what you know, right?”
It was a lie. No. It was The Lie. The same lie that the mare had told herself as a foal. The same lie she told herself when she couldn’t remember her name in the morning, or when the face in the mirror wasn’t the face she expected to see upon waking up. That it was all just a dream.
“True, but I get the sense that there’s something more to it. In your book, you talk about wild magic frequently. Now, I’m no mage, but isn’t the concept wild magic currently being debated by the top scholars of the country? What led you to using it as one of your main talking points?”
“The fact that wild magic’s existence is debated right now is one of the reasons I used it in the book. I needed something unpredictable in order to bridge the two worlds. It also gives the main character a reason to do things. In fa…”
The interview continued on for another half hour. Blank Slate was questioned on details that hadn’t made into the book, and with each answer the mare became more certain that he knew far more than he was saying. She had to speak with him. She had to know how he knew so much about humans. She had to know if he knew about the other person in her dreams. She had to know if this Blank State was the man she loved a lifetime ago.
Please let it be him, or let it be a coincidence.
The mare couldn’t tell which she’d prefer.
Tomorrow, Astrid would head to the Crystal Empire.
That night, a man and a woman shared the most beautiful nightmares and the most terrible dreams.
The nightmare always started the same way: the man and the woman would be sitting next to each other.
The scenery was never consistent. Sometimes they would be in a car - the driver switching at random as they drove to nowhere - and sometimes they would be in a house sitting in front of a fire that cooled them after a hot day. The location never mattered. It all fell away in the end no matter what is was.
This time, the two sat at a cafe drinking a bagel and eating coffee.
Their forms were also inconsistent; sometimes both would be human, sometimes both would be ponies. Sometimes they’d be the opposite of each other and sometimes they’d be pony and human at the same time. The forms didn’t matter to them in this nightmare: this was the only time they had to be together.
The conversation varied every time the saw each other. They’d talk about the weather, the food, or books that they’ve read. They’d talk about the lives they lead now and the lives they left behind. Blank Slate would talk about his patients, or Cameron would talk about the music he missed; Astrid would talk about her students, or Lieve would reminisce about televisions shows they’d never see the end of.
They’d stare at each other and take in the other’s appearance, longing to embrace that which they lost so long ago. But they would never think to reach and touch one another. Whatever force that caused them to live this constant, ever changing moment again and again prevented them from reaching out to feel if the other was real.
So they talked. They talked for hours, or they talked for seconds. Their time together in this nightmare was as warped as much as everything else in here. Eternity stretched between moments. Yet the melancholy nightmare would come to an end, when it did the dream would begin.
They both knew when the transition occurred, and neither could stop it. Both had tried, in the past, desperate for a few more precious moments with the one they once loved. Nothing they tried ever postponed the inevitable.
It started with a light. It would appear in the distance, speeding towards them. Carried on the hot wind were the sounds of a lively afternoon and the smell of of desert. The light incinerated everything it touched, leaving the earth scorched in its wake.
Once they saw the light they turned to run, footsteps and hoofbeats becoming interchangeable as the light grew closer. They always knew it would catch up to them. They knew it was pointless to flee every time they tried to out-drive, out-run, or out-swim it. The two only ever had enough time to say three little words before they were devoured.
The light burned them. They were always human when it did. The energies in the light scorched the skin from their bodies, molded the tissues into inhuman shapes, broke and melted bones until they matched the world they were soon to be thrust into. The pain of the experience wiped the details of the prior dream into a vague blur.
The dream always ended the same way. A colt and a filly were separated from each other.
Despite its many positive uses, a train horn was a terrible way to wake in the morning.
Raising her head from the pillow, a woman saw a mare in the reflection of the carriage window. Dark orange coat, forest green mane, blue eyes; it took the woman a moment to recognize herself. It’s only your reflection Lie...Astrid. You see it all the time.
Astrid sat up and stretched as much as she could in her tiny train suite. She had left for the Crystal Empire the day before and would be on the train for another day still. It gave her time to think, though, and she was grateful for it. She dreaded the upcoming confrontation, still undecided on what she wanted the result to be.
The book hadn’t helped in that regard either. So much of that book was nothing more than philosophical introspection disguised as a work of fiction. How the book had gotten popular enough to warrant the radio interview she did not understand. Yet, it did have information on Earth in it. Information that no Equestrian should know. She would be upset if one of her family members had spread her stories of home without her permission. If this author was a thief that stole her story from her, she would deal with him as a true griffin would: with swift and fierce justice.
Or, she would try, at least. It’s hard to sink your talons and beak into a dirty rotten thief when you’re an earth pony. Besides, the last time I tried to solve my problems the griffin way I was almost fired. She huffed an irritated breath. It’s not like the principal told me that it was only a drill. Astrid was still upset by that; it didn’t help that the vice-principal still got skittish around her. His leg healed up just fine.
Regardless, she found it unlikely that her adoptive family would spread her foalhood tales. They never believed her stories of Earth and told her to stop telling tall tales, until even she didn’t believe her memories anymore. She could ignore the dreams that left her feeling like she belonged to a different world: Astrid grew up a pony among griffins - she always felt out of place.
The book, however, brought too many memories back: memories of Earth, of family, of love. The terrible dreams that ended in pain. If it was true, if all of it was true, then she would have someone who knew what it felt like to be from another world. Astrid would no longer be alone in remembering a world that was so different, yet so similar. She wouldn’t be alone in forgetting her own face every morning.
And if it turned out to be a coincidence, that her dreams were just dreams? She could finally put everything behind her. She could throw away The Guide and forget humans. Astrid could stop loving a name she forgot every morning.
Yet she still remembered The Lie she told herself, and she remembered hearing Blank Slate say the same Lie on the radio. As much as she wanted it to be a coincidence, Astrid prayed to every goddess she could think of to ensure that Blank Slate was who she had been waiting for over the past twenty-five years.
Before any of that happened, though, she needed to get some coffee.
Blank Slate hated his job sometimes. Most of the time it was fulfilling work, helping ponies overcome trauma that they believed had defined them in the past. There were a lot of ponies he helped on a daily basis. Many of those ponies would refer their friends that also needed help to him. It was easy to keep busy in this job. The Crystal Empire had no shortage of psychological trauma, even three years after its return.
Of course, therapy is an exceedingly complicated science that is, at times, more of an art than a skill that could be taught. This meant that Blank Slate would often find his office filled with ponies that simply did not understand what the details of his work actually entailed. The pony sitting across from him was one of those ponies.
“And honestly, even if he does not stand to gain any inheritance anyway, as he is the youngest, this behavior is shameful and I’ve come to you in order for you to cast your spells and fix him!” It took every ounce of Blank Slate’s willpower to not repeatedly slam his face into the wall. Truly, it was only professional courtesy that kept Blank Slate from throwing this mare out of the building. At least it seemed her son was more embarrassed by her then anything else.
“I must remind you, ma’am, that is not how this works.” The third time in the past forty minutes that she needed to be reminded of that fact. “Miss Finance, may I speak to your son alone for a few minutes?” Please, remove yourself and your gaudy dress from my sight for the rest of my life. Blank Slate wished he could say that aloud; alas, it would not be professional.
“If you think it will help you fix him. I don’t see how though, as I’ve already told you all you need to know,” she said, as she managed to pick herself and her massive dress off the couch. Blank Slate may have gone around clothed in some way at all times, but even he thought it was excessive.
With the obnoxious mare’s retreat from the room, both of the remaining ponies in the room visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry for my mom’s behavior, Mister doctor Blank Slate, sir,” the colt that now sat alone on the couch stated. He was a light brown pegasus, with a light orange mane. On his flank rested a trio of sunflowers. “She’s been like this for a while now.”
Despite his mother’s absence, he was still fidgeting in his seat. Blank Slate thought it had more to do with boredom than nerves; young pegasi tended to be almost hyperactive on average. To be forced to sit down quietly for nearly an hour should be almost impossible for most colts his age.
“It’s okay, Wild Flower, she’s not the first pony like that I’ve had to deal with. And I’m positive she won’t be my last,” Blank Slate saw a smile at the use of the colt’s chosen name. “How often does she do this?” He tried to sound as comforting as he could. The colt needed a friend right now more than anything else.
Wild Flower sunk in his chair as he took a moment to think, “Rant, or take me to a new therapist? She rants about my cutie mark at least once a day. You’re probably the fourth shrink she’s taken me to since summer started. Any time the other therapists told her I didn’t need fixing, she took me somewhere else.”
No kid should have to go through this. Blank Slate risked a quick check at his wall clock. The time for the appointment was almost up. Pretentious mare spent more time talking about herself. “All right, here’s what we’re going to do, Wild Flower,” the kid perked up a bit as Blank Slate started speaking. Good, he’s paying attention. “It seems your mother used up all our time here, so I’m going to go out there and schedule another meeting for us. When that happens, we are going to convince her that we are ‘fixing’ you at each meeting. Every week when you come here, it’s going to be time for you. She won’t even be allowed inside the building, and you can do whatever you want here. Okay?”
Wild Flower nodded enthusiastically. Any time away from his mother was time well spent. “Good, let’s go tell her the good news then.” Blank Slate said as he moved to leave the room.
“Hey, Crystal,” Blank Slate turned to talk to his secretary as soon as Miss Finance and Wild Flower had escaped hearing range. “Could you find me form CM-452 and a spell to restrict access to my office?” As he got closer to the desk, he noticed that Crystal Shards already had the form filled out and dated, awaiting only his signature.
“Would you like for me to take these to the Lunar Guard after work as well, sir?” Before the return of the Crystal Empire, Crystal Shard had been one of Sombra’s handmaids. On one hoof, this made her extremely competent at finding exactly what was needed at any given moment. On the other, well, there was a reason she was still terrified of authority. Though he was not interested in her in such a manner, Blank Slate would admit that Crystal was a beautiful young mare.
Unfortunately, beauty and youth are not always desired under a tyrant’s rule.
“I can do it myself, Crystal, if you don’t want to.” Blank Slate knew that Crystal was still unable to look at a guardspony without shaking. He wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to.
Crystal was silent for a moment. “Thank you, sir,” she replied almost inaudibly. “As there are no more clients for the night, may I be excused?” Blank Slate nodded, to Crystal’s relief. One day she’ll feel comfortable around here. It was hard for some ponies to allow themselves freedom from their pasts.
There was an earth pony mare waiting outside the office as he closed up. Her coat was dark orange, and her mane was forest green. Unlike most of the ponies he saw on a daily basis, her face awoke something in the back of his mind. With only her appearance, she had captivated Blank Slate unlike any pony he had seen before.
“Excuse me, are you Dr. Blank Slate?” Her voice was familiar to the stallion, despite never having heard it before. It was so similar to the voice that haunted his dreams and graced his nightmares. Blank Slate found he could only nod in confirmation.
Blank Slate led Astrid to a nearby cafe for their discussion. They took seats in a private corner and ordered coffee. Neither dared to speak about their familiarity - how two ponies who had never met felt like old friends the first time they laid eyes on each other.
They were even able to guess the other’s coffee order.
Astrid tried to find hints of the man who haunted her dreams. Blank Slate was slightly older than her; taller, too. His eyes shared the color of the ones she saw in her sleep. So much reminded her of what she had tried to forget long ago.
She had so much she wanted to ask, so much she needed to know.
“Astrid, was it? That sounds Griffish,” Blank Slate stated in a blatant attempt to start a conversation. She appreciated the opening. Astrid had been afraid that they would just sit and stare at each other while drinking coffee, sitting back and watching as the awkwardness grew between them.
“It is, actually. My parents found me in their garden when I was a foal. Even though I wasn’t a griffin, they took me in as part of their flock.” Back when I knew nothing of this world. Astrid wished she could say that. Try as she might though, the words wouldn’t come. “I lived most of my life in the southwest Griffin Kingdoms. It was only recently I moved to this country. I still find it strange to not be surround by my siblings all the time”
Astrid was stalling. If she wanted, she could talk about her family for hours; yet there was still the chance that Blank Slate was a fraud who had already spoken to her family. It was extremely unlikely that he had done so, but she desperately wanted Blank Slate to have a reason to have known about her world that didn’t involve him living there before.
“But I didn’t come here to tell you about my family.” Astrid had planned this out on the train over. She’d confront him, he’d know nothing, and she could get back to her life without ever dreaming of humans again. “I came to ask you about your book.”
Blank Slate straightened in his seat. He’d expected The Guide had been the reason behind this conversation. The stallion let the nervous mare in front of him take all the time she needed to speak. Besides, he dared not speak now. He barely dared to hope for the possibility that Astrid was quite literally the mare of his dreams. That she could prove his memories were more than just dreams.
“I first heard about your book during the interview you did. It reminded me of the games I played with my siblings when I was a foal. I would imagine another world filled with technology beyond anything this world has ever seen.” Astrid had Blank Slate’s full attention now. “I would dream that I had a family that looked like me, and that I had someone who loved me. My own personal Prince Charming. That we had been separated by a wild spell.”
“And what is it you wanted to ask me?” Blank Slank had a strong feeling that he knew what Astrid wanted to know. There was very little in the book that couldn’t be found with just a bit of independent research, which meant she was asking about something that couldn’t be found outside of The Guide.
“Were you a human too?” Astrid forced herself to ask, knowing that the answer could destroy everything about the lie she built around herself. A simple yes or no question that could rewrite her life, asked in a way that meant any answer was a confirmation.
She had asked in a language that wasn’t found in Equestria, or in The Guide.
And Blank Slate responded in kind. That was proof enough for the both of them. Finally, they had found another human among ponies.
“I was right, I was right the entire time.” Astrid cried out, having not yet deciding if she should be laughing in joy, or crying at the pain she had put herself through while blocking out the human side of her life since she was a filly.
Blank Slate had no such internal debates. He was simply happy that he had managed to find another human. “I have so many questions for you.” Blank Slate wanted to know where she had landed, how old she was as a human, and how she got to Equestria. However, Astrid seemed to have settled on crying at the perceived loss of her equine identity for the moment. “Astrid, how about we continue this discussion at my place. It’s nearby, and if you need it I can sleep on the couch and lend you the bed.”
Astrid stopped crying and nodded at Blank Slate’s suggestion. She wanted to get out of public after her brief outburst. More than that, she found that she trusted the stallion. There was something about him that felt so familiar to her.
“Come on then, it’s not far.”
“This is… nice.” Blank Slate’s apartment was surprisingly large and spacious compared the one Astrid lived in back in Manehattan. It also, as described by Major Key, was an “organized” mess. Blank Slate claimed that he knew exactly where everything was in his apartment; the stacks of books, bit bags, and vests that still need washing claimed otherwise.
“I know, it’s not perfect. It’s home though.” Blank Slate said as he walked Astrid towards his couch. “Can I get you anything? My kitchen’s a little empty, but I can get you something to drink.”
“No, thank you.” Astrid was feeling curiously empty after the coffee and the earth shattering revelation, but she couldn’t imagine getting anything else down. “I’m good at the moment.” She was glad to be out of public; it would be much less embarrassing if she freaked out again when only one other pony was watching.
“So, before we discuss anything else, I have a question for you that might seem a bit weird.” Blank Slate approached the other side of the couch cautiously; he didn’t want to startle his house guest again.
“We are humans from another world that are now living as a completely different species. How can it get any weirder?” Blank Slate surprisingly had never thought of it like that. With that train of thought, there really wasn’t much that was weirder than that.
“It’s just, have you had any strange dreams where you start as a human?”
“And end as a pony? Yeah.” Astrid finished Blank Slate’s statement.
“In these dreams, is there someone else with you”
“Yes.” Both were holding their breaths as the waited for the next question.
“Does the name Lie...”
It was then that the doorbell once again proved that it was the worst invention in the history of Equestria. “Hey, Doe, open up. I brought pizza! Are we doing game night or what?” Major Key unintentionally managed to both kill the mood and make Blank Slate want kill him with one single phrase.
“So you’re a former human too, eh?” Major Key asked, as he graciously shared his pizza with the other two. “Darn, for a moment I thought Blank Slate had brought a mare over without telling me.” It was with well honed reflexes that the pegasus was able to dodge the pillow his friend threw at him.
“He knows? Is he also human?” Astrid asked her host between bites. It was rude to talk while chewing, after all.
“No, he’s just my best friend from foalhood.” Blank Slate stated as he was eating his slice. The pizza was too good to stop eating long enough to talk. “I told him about Earth when we were colts and he’s always believed me.”
Major Key chose that moment to tackle hug his life long companion, “You’re my friend, how could I not believe you? Besides, Blank Slate here was always a terrible liar. Remind me to tell you about the book case incident.”
The blush growing on Blank Slate’s face was increasingly obvious. “I thought we agreed never to talk about that.” Blank Slate whined.
“Exactly, we agreed to never talk about it. Nothing was said about one of us talking about it with somepony else.” Major Key always enjoyed making Blank Slate blush. His pale fur did nothing to hide his bright red cheeks. “On another subject, I ran into Crystal when I was getting food. She wanted to know if you had delivered that form like you said you would.”
The blank look on Blank Slate’s face said more than enough. “Astrid, Major Key; will you excuse me for a bit while I run an errand? Help yourselves to anything in the fridge, if you want. Major Key knows where everything is. I’ll be right back,” He rushed out the door before he even finished getting his vest on.
Astrid looked over when she heard the pegasus next to her laugh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at him, I just can’t help it when he gets flustered like that. It’s adorable.” Astrid had been watching the short interactions between the two. It was obvious that Major Key cared for his friend, but she felt that there was something more there.
“This might be personal, but are you two ehhh…” Astrid wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase her question. It mostly devolved into hoof gestures implying togetherness and camaraderie. Well, that or anxiety. Growing up around griffins gave Astrid both an appreciation for gesturing while speaking most Equestrians lack, and an inability to reliably gesture. She forgot that she didn’t have talons or fingers surprisingly often; a surprising amount of physical language did not translate well when conveyed with hooves.
Fortunately, Major Key understood exactly what she meant to ask. It was one of the two questions most ponies asked him shortly after meeting him, after all. “No, we aren’t together. I will admit that I wish we were though.” Major Key said forlornly. His entire face drooped with sadness. “It’s possible that it could have happened a long time ago, if not for one thing. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been obsessed with the woman of his dream.” Major Key’s face grew serious.
“Oh.” Astrid said softly. As afraid as she was to admit, it was entirely possible that she was the woman Blank Slate dreamt of. Just as he was the man in her dreams. She wasn’t entirely sure how to react to Major Key’s statement, so the two sat in silence for a time.
“Know that I’m only going to say this once,” Astrid looked back at Major Key as he began to speak again. “I’m not afraid to say that I would give up my wing for him. If you’re lying about being human, or if you hurt him in any way, I will do everything I can to return the favor.” Astrid knew the severity behind the stallion’s words. She remember how her siblings felt whenever they were grounded for any reason. No griffin or pegasus would sacrifice their wings willingly except in the most dire of circumstances.
“I understand, and I swear by Moon and by Sun that I tell the truth. May storms hinder all my travels should my vows prove false.” Astrid declared. If Blank Slate truly was the man of her dreams, then she could never hurt him.
Suddenly, a smile found it’s way back onto Major Key’s face. “Alright, enough seriousness for now. Want to hear some embarrassing stories about Blank Slate?” His jovial nature was infectious.
“Sure.” Astrid had decided to trust Blank Slate already, what was one more pony in her life?
When Blank Slate returned to hear laughter ringing through his apartment, he suspected that he was going to regret leaving Astrid alone with Riff Raff. Seeing them sharing his cider didn’t help matters.
“Hey, Doe! I was just telling our friend here about our school days together,” Riff Raff exclaimed from the couch.
“Did you really try and blame your cat for getting Major Key stuck on the roof?” Astrid managed to ask through an intense bout of debilitating chuckles.
“To be fair, I still wasn’t perfectly fluent, and I meant to say that he climbed a nearby tree. I realize now how equally impossible that is.” Astrid and Riff Raff’s laughter doubled in volume at that. After all, it is incredibly difficult to climb a tree with hooves.
“Anyway, guess what happened while I was out?” Blank Slate said as he took a cider from the fridge. He also checked if there was any more pizza.
Curiosity eventually won out over the laughter. The two ponies sitting on the couch urged Blank Slate to continue. “A messenger from the castle found me. Told me that Princess Cadance wanted to speak with me sometime tomorrow.”
“What about?” Astrid asked. She didn’t know much about the princesses, but Princess Cadance was technically in charge of education. In a way, that made the princess her boss. Then again, there were rumors that the newest princess wanted to take over the education system.
“No idea. Probably just to check on how my clients are doing. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s asked about it.” In fact, Blank Slate had met with Princess Cadance irregularly in the past. She always tried to ask about is love life when they met. Blank Slate didn’t quite understand why; it’s one thing to care about your subject’s mental health, but it’s another thing to try and get everypony they meet to fall in love.
“Anyway, now that Blank Slate is back, game night can really begin!” Major Key declared. What followed was a night of laughter, joy, and gaming. Morning would find all three passed out on Blank Slate’s overly sized bed.