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Fairy Tales
Chapter 1: Teacups
"How old do you think the world is?"
I sat in Celestia's study, having been invited for afternoon tea. It had been some years since she'd given me a proper test, and I felt both curious and nostalgic at this unexpected return to form.
"Well, current theories suggest the planet itself is several billion years old, and—"
Celestia held up a hoof. "Permit me to clarify. How long do you think Equestria—that is, the world as we know it—has existed?"
A strange clarification to make, I felt. The obvious answer was since the three tribes joined at Hearth's Warming. Nopony had a solid answer for how long ago that was, however. I could estimate by working backwards: Luna's banishment was a thousand years, and the battle with Discord within a decade or so before that, leading back to... No, that's what I used to do. The honest answer is better. This is a lesson, not a test.
I set down my tea and replied. "A few thousand years, since the first Hearth's Warming. At least, that's what I've always understood."
Celestia nodded, smiling politely as she took another sip of the Earl Grey. "And if I told you it was far, far less than that, how do you think you'd react?"
Okay, I admit, now my mind was racing. Years ago, I would've jumped from my chair, excitedly demanding an explanation. Or in those early years as a princess, I would've tried my best to pretend I wasn't surprised in the least. I like to think I've grown past that, yet I'm sure in years to come I'll see that "maturity" as just another phase as well.
"Well," I said, smiling. "I'd do my best to avoid spitting tea all over this lovely table, but once I'd swallowed..." I made a show of doing so. "I'd probably yell something like 'Get there faster!'"
Celestia chuckled. "I miss those times, Twilight. When you were a filly, and every little thing I said, you treated as the most treasured of secrets you couldn't wait to hear."
"Yes, well, a couple of decades as a princess, and I've seen through your facade!" I vaguely stabbed my hoof at her in an accusatory and farcical manner.
"So you have. So you have." Celestia sighed. "And I've come to cherish you as a friend and equal as well." I smiled slightly, turning away from her gaze to hide my blush. I treasured her friendship more than anything, of course, yet the talk of even the most slightly sappy things still made me shy away, no matter how honest and true it was. One of those habits I'd never managed to break.
"But," she continued. "If you 'see through me', then do you still honestly believe I'm thousands of years old?"
"I..." I didn't have an answer for that. I mean, of course I believed. Everypony did! Princess Celestia was eternal, we all knew that... didn't we?
"You've never questioned it?" Celestia asked.
"Well," I began. "Of course I did, when I was little. You said you weren't quite as old as dirt."
Celestia snorted. "Ha ha! I remember that! You ran into the throne room when I was talking with some ambassador or other. Was it the yaks? Or no... the Zebraican! Anyway, you ran in, yelling to ask if I was older than dirt, because—"
"Because," I finished for her. "Moon Shadow had insisted no pony was older than her granddam, who was..."
"As old as the dirt itself." We both said the last line together, before chuckling.
"Oh wow." My turn to sigh now. "I was quite a hooffull back then, wasn't I?"
"Oh Twilight, you were... but I loved every minute of it."
"Waiiit... You're distracting me again! I said 'get there faster!'"
"Heh, you do see through me. But I know you love the chase and the mystery. Bear with this old mare a little while longer?"
I let out an exaggerated sigh, barely covering my actual smile. "Okay... fine."
Holding up her cup, Celestia looked at me. "What is this?"
I glared, uncertain how to answer. It was so obvious, yet...
"It's not a trick question, I promise."
"A teacup?"
"I mean, this little bit on the side."
"That's the handle." Again, too obvious.
"And what's it for?"
I realized then, that I'd never really thought about it. I drank plenty of tea—and coffee too, of course—and almost all the cups—or at least the fancy ones—had the same curved piece to one side. "Decoration?" I guessed. "I don't really know."
"What about the word?" she asked. "What's the etymology?"
I'm pretty sure my face scrunched up at that point. I mean, I really should know that one. I love words, in all their forms, and etymology is one of the most interesting parts of linguistics. If you understand how a word came to be, you understand more about the ponies that came up with it. But I honestly had no idea at "handle." I confessed my ignorance.
Celestia just nodded. "Walk with me," she said, before draining the cup and leaving it on the table. I quickly did likewise and followed her to the door.
She stopped before opening it. "And this?" She tapped a forehoof on the knob.
"A door knob or..." Realization began to dawn. "Door handle."
"Very good." She opened the door with her magic, and lead the way down the hall. I followed.
As we wound our way through the castle, I couldn't help but notice the "handle" on every door we went through. Then we took a turn I hadn't used in a long time, and descended the stairs towards the servant quarters.
We came to the first of the lower doors. It was much less ornate than the ones in the main parts of the castle, and Celestia paused there, turning to me. "Notice anything different?"
I'd never though about it much before, but it seemed too strange now. Here, below the stairs, the doors were held shut with simple latches, from which hung a short piece of cord any pony could easily pull with their teeth.
"Cords," I said. "No handles below the stairs."
Celestia nodded, smiling in that familiar way which told me I'd done well. But what did it mean? Was this a tribalism thing? Unicorns, with magic, made doors only they could easily open? Leaving others to awkwardly bite or grasp at slick knobs with awkward hooves?
We descended another flight of stairs and, after a few darker, torch-lit hallways, found ourselves in the kitchens.
"Oh, my stars!" An older mare of greater girth said as we entered.
"Mrs. Patmare," Celestia said, beaming. "How are you this lovely afternoon?"
"Oh, just fine, your Majesty. What can I do you for?"
"Well, if they're not all gone, a few of those scones from breakfast, with a little raspberry jam on the side would be lovely. I'm taking Princess Sparkle here on a tour to the lower gardens and thought we might have a light snack."
Lower gardens? I hadn't been there since I was a filly.
"Certainly," Mrs. Patmare replied. "Just give me a few minutes to heat them up in the oven."
"No rush, we're taking the day off."
Patmare scrambled off to the pantry and began ordering other kitchen staff about. That left Celestia and I staring at the stove.
"You see it, don't you?" Celestia looked at me knowingly.
"Yes," I admitted. I looked at the big, flat block of wood, easy to bite and hold, coming off the plain, cast iron pot. The "handle" of it. Further down the counter though, a fancy pot with cups and saucers stood on a likewise fancy platter, waiting to be washed. The handle there was a curved piece of porcelain, almost impossible for an earth pony to pour without burning themselves, yet what I always thought of as "proper."
"Thoughts?" Celestia prodded, ever the teacher.
"It's tribalist, isn't it?"
"How so?"
"Pots and 'handles' that only unicorns can use? Whereas the servants and other lower classes have much more practical things."
"I suppose that's part of it," she said. "But not the whole story. In fact, I think the joke is on us, those of us with horns. We're the ones who keep using things that make no sense."
I must confess, I was at a total loss as to what she was driving at. I said so.
"Think on this," Celestia suggested. "Even if you were a cruel and tribalist unicorn, wouldn't you rather place no handles at all upon your teacup, rather than ones simply difficult?"
"So..." My thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Patmare returned with a towel-lined basket full of scones, steaming and covered with another towel. Celestia thanked her, and took the food in her magic, heading through another, even older looking door in the back of the kitchens. I had no choice but to follow.
The stairs were dark, and winding, but eventually emerged onto the terraced lower gardens. The place was practically chiseled from the cliffs of the Canterhorn, and overlooked an immense drop to the sinuous river far below. Small rows of garden-boxes lined the bare stone. In each, rich soil, undoubtedly brought in from elsewhere, were growing various herbs. We walked between these, and down several steps to the lowest terrace. There, the view to the river and the Canterlot Falls was magnificent.
"I haven't been here in years," I said, as Celestia removed the covering towel and extracted the pot of jam.
"It's one of the castle's best kept secrets," she said. "The view is spectacular, even more so than many of the "viewpoints" in the castle itself."
I nodded. "Why don't you bring more visitors here? Surely you could widen the stairs and make it more accessible."
"Of course I could, but..."
"Then you wouldn't have your quite spot." I finished for her.
She chuckled. "I was going to say the staff wouldn't have their little slice of peace, but I must confess I do like to make use of it as well."
I grinned, then remembered our conversation. "So what's all this about handles and unicorns?"
"And ages," Celestia said. "You mustn't forget the original question."
"Okay, so how old are you?" I said, figuring I may as well get to the gist of it.
"I am one hundred and twenty six years old."
My mouth hung open. Of course I believed her. She had no reason to lie.
"But, but..." I stammered. "Luna was banished for a thousand years!" I leapt to the first "solid" evidence I had.
"And you don't find that number curiously round and precise?"
"Well, yes, of course, but..." Again, I trailed off. I wanted to argue that just because something was seen as a pattern or "round" by the equine mind didn't mean it wasn't also true. But maybe that one was a stretch. I hung my head.
"How long was it then?"
"Forty eight years. Still the better part of a lifetime."
I had no reply. How does one react to something like that. My Princess, my... well, no matter how much of a friend she may now be, I couldn't help but think the word "Goddess." This pony, this great force of history, just told me she was practically mortal, at least in span if not in power. I felt tears begin to form in my eyes. Not so much at anything particularly sad, just at the apparent falsehood I'd been fed for so many years.
"Oh Twilight," Celestia rushed to my side and wrapped a wing around me in a tight hug. "I never meant to hurt you, or anypony. Can you at least trust me in that?"
I nodded, sniffling. Wiping my nose with a pastern, I looked up and asked, "But why?"
Celestia, she appeared to ponder this for a moment. "Expediency, I guess. At least at first. I needed a story to make all my little ponies believe in something bigger than themselves."
"Even if it isn't true? Even if it's just a fairy tale?"
"Especially then. A wise, wise person once said, 'Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.'"
My mind almost caught on the unusual choice of noun that was "person," but instead, all I could think of was the idea of fighting my friends like Spike or Ember. "But I don't want to beat dragons... some of my best friends are dragons!"
Celestia laughed out loud at that, squeezing me tighter in the hug and I felt warm tears soak into my fur where her chin rested on my neck.
"Oh my dear Twilight Sparkle, that is so very, very much the point! That's why I've asked you here today. You have exceeded not only my hopes, but even my wildest dreams. You raised a dragon as not just a friend, but a brother, and he in turn has befriend others of his race, teaching them more than I ever hoped about friendship and compassion. Twilight, you didn't just 'beat' them, you befriended them!"
I was happy that she was happy, but still confused. I pushed out of the hug slightly so I could face her. "But what does this have to do with teacups?"
"And why is a raven like a writing desk?" she asked, sticking her tongue out in jest.
"What?"
She waved it off. "Sorry, forgive an old mare her silly jokes."
"But you're not old. You just told me you're only one hundred and twenty six."
"And that's not 'old' to you?"
I thought about it. "Well, it's far younger than I thought."
She looked at me. "Twilight, I am old. One hundred and twenty six is very, very, very old for a horse."
I flinched slightly at the term. "You shouldn't say that about yourself."
"I may be old, but I'm not senile yet. I use that word because it is the correct word to use. I mean it literally. I am not a pony like the rest of you. Haven't you always wondered why I stand so much taller than others? Even taller by far than you and the other alicorns? Even my own sister, Luna?"
Of course I had wondered. Who hadn't? When Luna first returned, we assumed she'd regain her stature along with her power, after some time. But she never did. She was always more than a head shorter than her sister, and no other pony approached the height of Celestia. But she was Sol Invictus, so why should we be surprised when she towered above all? My actual answer, was sadly, far less coherent.
"But... but you're Princess Celestia! You control the sun!"
"Indeed. But I was born a horse, and named Celeste, and I controlled nothing but the few extra oats I could swindle from the stable boy's barrow when he wasn't looking."
"You... you're an actual horse? As in, a cave pony, from prehistoric times?"
She laughed again. "Yes, 'cave pony', I suppose. I borrowed that from them. I'm a horse, an equine, born without magic or even speech. I seeded the 'cave pony' theory to explain ancestors before thought. I naively imagined what they might have been, had we ponies been born from this world."
I was beyond shock at this point. I mean that literally. I just wanted to know the rest of the story, regardless of how surprising it was. "Tell me everything!"
And she did. But only on the promise that I keep quiet.
Chapter 2: A Horse With No Name
I was born in 1889, on a small farm outside a city called Inverness, in the country of Scotland, which was part of Great Britain, a nation-state on a world called Earth. I was, as I've mentioned before, a horse.
Yes, before you react, I mean that I was an animal, self-aware in only the most basic sense, in that I knew I existed. The rest of the details above are ones I learned later, after coming to Equus, or as they called it then, "Olympus."
My early life was, quite frankly, dull. I was raised as any other horse was, in stable and pasture, to be used for labor and work around the farm. My pedigree was not high, at least to my understanding. I have no memories of my sire or dam, such as they were. My earliest memories are when I was perhaps two, and those brief thefts of extra oats I talked about before.
No, the interesting part starts later. I was perhaps five or maybe six. A grown adult for a horse. Do remember, time and aging works a bit differently for you ponies.
I was taken south, to England. Another country, but part of this same Britain. There I was sold at an auction...
No, I remind you, I was a nearly unthinking animal at that time. I bear them no ill will for treating me as such. We posses pets and farm animals ourselves, do we not?
As I was saying, I was sold, to a Mr. H.G. Wells. He was mounting an expedition, and needed many pack animals. I was sorted in with nearly two dozen other horses, and sent by ship to a remote island.
The journey was harsh. We were packed in quite tight, and while I could sleep far longer on my feet back then, at some point, one seriously needs to lie down and sleep properly. Alas, we could not, and many of us collapsed in the hold. Thankfully, none perished, and we were eventually led out onto a blindingly white beach.
I cared little for the scenery at the time however, and sought out the troughs of water and feed before collapsing in the shade of the oddly shaped trees.
The next morning, we were roused by our handlers. Yes, hmm, I suppose I should detail them a bit more. To me, they simply were, but to you and other ponies, you've never seen such creatures. So let me elaborate.
They called themselves "men" or, in more formal literature, "humans." Yes, Lyra was on to something. We'll talk about that later.
Back to the topic at hand. These men stood around my height, but they were bipedal, like Diamond Dogs. They were mostly bald, having visible hair only upon their heads. Upon their bodies was only the lightest of hairs, though some were thicker than others. Still, nothing resembling the fur or coats of the creatures in Equestria. Also like Diamond Dogs, they had grasping digits at the end of each upper appendage, which they called...
"Hands!" Twilight Sparkle, my ever eager student, shouted.
"You promised to be quiet," I said, before continuing.
So yes, large, upright, hairless apes. But ones with incredible technology; technology we saw first hoof the next morning.
Mr. Wells, apparently the leader of the expedition, had a device set up just at the edge of the beach. His assistants, human and otherwise, had cleared the nearby jungle to make a roughly flat area a few dozen lengths in diameter. In the middle of that sat a massive piece of industrial equipment, not unlike the factory machines you might find in Manehatten.
Striding to the center of it, Mr. Wells gave a speech of some kind, one which I could not understand. Then he pulled a lever and the machinery came to life. Whirring and fritzing and clicking, it built in power. The noise made my ears lay flat, and I wanted to bolt, but the training I'd had told me to stay still. So I did.
A bright light shot from the machine, impacted on something unseen in mid-air, and tore open a hole. The edges of the portal were ragged shards of what I now recognize as elemental magic, glowing actinic colors both seen and unseen. As they tore open the veil between worlds, the far side became visible. A great, green plain with snow-capped peaks in the distance. Yes, as you've undoubtedly guessed, Equus.
Wells stepped through, and several others followed. An hour later they returned, grinning. It seemed whatever plans they had were confirmed. It was then the preparations truly began. The other men packed up supplies, and started to load us horses down.
As they were doing so, Wells and a few others that had gone through with him—his key aides—came to the corral where we were being kept. Walking among us, Wells himself came to me. He ran his hand along my flank and saw the star-like brown coloration on my hip. He said something. I couldn't speak the language back then, but it seemed he thought it lucky. He chose me to ride, and the next thing he said, I do remember.
He named me "Celeste."
"So you didn't have a cutie mark?" I asked.
"No," Celestia said. "I'd yet to find the Sun. I was a horse. Mostly white, but with brown socks, one of which extended to a star-like pattern on my right rear hip."
"Then how did you become—"
"All in good time, my little pony."
Chapter 3: Olympus Mons
The world we entered, through that portal, it was the Equus you know today. But the men called it "Olympus." It would be years before I understood why, but I can save you the wait. The simple fact was that it contained many, many creatures they'd previous considered to be purely mythological. More specifically, the first they encountered—manticore, hydra, chimera—were all from a particular Greek mythology, which centered around a high mountain called Olympus where the gods supposedly resided. As the first sight they had through the portal was of the Canterhorn and its high peak, they quickly called this new world after that ancient place.
And yes, it would turn out that, in much the same way they'd been able to open a portal to this new world, they weren't the first, and thus creatures from both worlds had mingled at points in ancient times, and been remembered as myths and legends.
The expedition moved across the plains, and set up camp in what is now the Everfree Forest. No, that's another story. Suffice to say, it was just a plain back then.
The first night was uneventful. The next night though, that's where it became interesting. A pegasus landed at the edge of camp, and those men on guard duty were taken by surprise. They'd been sleeping when they weren't supposed to. The pegasus, it was... well, it was strange. It's not like the pegasi you know today. It was wild, feral. More like me as I was then. She had wings, but they were wings on a horse, not a rational pony. Still, she had some semblance of language about her, and in her own, primitive way, was demanding to know what these creatures were doing in her domain.
The men, of course, understood none of this. They heard at best only squawking and whinnies. They pulled their swords, and their guns.
Oh right, guns. Guns are... well, machines. They have a small chemical charge, which can be ignited with the pull of a lever. That charge expands, pushing a metal ball down a tube with speed enough to kill at dozens of lengths.
So they pointed their guns. I shook my reins free of the tree trunk they'd loosely hitched me to, and ran into the conflict. The men, most of them anyway, were ready to attack. The pegasus, she was ready to take them on herself, not knowing what harm their weapons could inflict. I... I didn't quite have words, but could somehow whinny and nicker enough to get her to back down. She didn't like it, but she flew off instead of fighting.
Wells came up to me, and patted me on the neck and shoulder. "See boys, like I said, she's good luck!" Yes, I actually understood what he said. That was a revelation in itself, but at the time, it felt just... normal. There was no surprise in it, almost as if I'd always known what the humans were saying.
"Wait, so the human language, you just suddenly understood it?"
Celestia chuckled. "Yes, almost as if by 'magic' it seemed."
"So what did it sound like?" I asked. "Can you still speak it?"
"Of course," Celestia said, grinning. "I'm speaking it right now."
I tried to will myself not to react, but found my mouth none-the-less agape.
Chapter 4: A Horse is a Horse
I know you expect some tales of derring-do at this point, but I fear I don't have many. Things went, as far as I can tell, according to plan for Mr. Wells and his crew. The camp grew into a small village over the course of several years. Wells set up a home for himself on the western edge of it, and I remained his faithful horse. I know it may seem a bit strange, but somehow the magic that was slowly pervading my body, while giving me the understanding of language, never made it feel odd to be simply a servant and steed. At least in those first few years.
As timed passed, that changed. I'd been listening to humans for several years since coming to Olympus. I'd learned a lot just from eavesdropping, such as it were. Mr. Wells seemed almost as if he recognized this in some way, as, before many of our rides, he'd talk to me almost as if I were another human. As such, it seemed only natural when one day, I actually responded in kind.
To tell the truth, I can't even remember what the conversation was at this point. He'd said something completely banal... let us pretend it was a comment on the baker's raising of prices.
"And that Jared, he's now charging two pence for a single loaf!" Wells said, as he was tightening my saddle.
"That scoundrel!" I replied, leaning to one side to let the belt slip more comfortably around my middle.
And that was it. The stepping off point. Wells looked at me like I was some spawn straight out of Tartarus—which is actually in their Olympian mythology as well.
Wells was shocked, flabbergasted even, at my speech, but at the time I didn't understand why.
"What's wrong, Mr. Wells?" I asked.
"You... You spoke!" He said, awkwardly stepping backwards.
"Why yes, I suppose I did. Is that a problem?"
"But... but... you're a horse!"
"Indeed," I said. "But I think I'm a different sort of horse."
"A horse is a horse," he insisted. "And horses... Can. Not. Talk!"
I know it seems foolish, but I was genuinely confused by this at the time. Part of my mind insisted that he was absolutely right, and another part simultaneously insisted that speech was the most normal thing in the world.
"But I can talk."
He ran from the stable, slamming the gate of my stall behind him. I approached it slowly. It had only a simple latch on the outside, one easily reached if I craned my neck just so. It'd never been a true barrier, just a suggestion of where I belonged. Suddenly, it seemed less important. I opened it with a gentle flick of my lips and trotted outside. I caught just a glimpse of Mr. Wells running into the house. I trotted over. I thought to go in and explain myself, but this door was different. It had no regular latch on it, but...
"A handle!" Twilight interrupted.
"You said you'd keep quite."
"You're taking too long." She blew a raspberry at me, which reminded me I had scones getting cold. I levitated two from the basket and spread some jam on each.
"Here," I said. "Maybe that'll keep you silent for a minute."
My old student grinned at me, but gamely took a huge bite and made a show of smacking her lips.
I continued.
A handle. I tried biting at it, but it was round and slick iron. I could turn it slightly, but not enough to open. I tried my hooves too, but they couldn't grab, not like the earth ponies you know today. So I did the next best thing. I turned around and kicked the door in. Hearing the muttering of Wells on the upper floor, I went up the stairs. I found him in his bedroom, pacing anxiously.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I nosed open the door to his room.
"What?" He nearly screamed. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you," I said. "You ran off, and seemed scared."
"I'm losing it. Oh lord, help me. I am losing it."
"Losing what?"
"My mind!"
You can see where this is going. Suffice to say, it took me some time to talk him back from the edge and convince him that I was, in fact, really speaking. Recognizing that, it took me some time further to convince him that I was still, in fact, a horse. Convincing him those two were not mutually exclusive took the rest of the night.
I paused to enjoy a few bites of my scone.
"So, did the other horses gain the power of speech as well?" Twilight asked.
I finished chewing a bite. "No, the magic of Equus didn't seem to affect them as it did me. Likewise, most of the men seemed unaffected as well, though I saw hints that one or two may have been gaining some form of magical ability. I didn't recognize it at the time, of course."
"So there was no magic at all on this 'Earth' they came from?"
"Not as far as I know. Though they had stories of magic in ancient times. I suspect that, like with ponies, magical ability varies with each individual. I was attuned enough to it that I became sapient, and perhaps some humans gained powers of their own from time to time."
"So if none of the other ponies... err.... horses could talk, what happened next?"
Chapter 5: Young Blood
Wells kept quiet about my speech, and begged me to do the same. He said it would scare the other humans. I was okay with this initially, but after a few more months, I started to feel lonely. I realized during that time that the other horses were seeming more and more like dumb beasts to me, and though I tried to talk to them, they never showed any sign of true understanding.
Then one day, that all changed. A young filly named Puddinghead—because she continually bumped into walls—overheard me talking to myself, and tried mimicking me. It was exactly what you'd expect from a child first learning to speak; an imitation of the sounds more than the content. But I quickly realized this wasn't normal for a horse. No, she was different, she was like me.
Over the next few months, I taught her what I could of language, though it was tedious. She was small, and far weaker than other foals her age. She was growing much more slowly as well. As you might be guessing, she was the first true "pony," having been changed by the world's magic before she was even born.
I started to seek out others like her, but it wasn't as if I had free reign. I was ostensibly still a farm animal, and only traveled to other estates or into the village itself when ridden. Still, I managed to find other intelligent foals, and saw enough evidence to know a knew species was being born, one I felt obligated to protect, though I wasn't yet sure how.
A few months later, one of the villagers heard a foal in his own stable speaking. Things moved quickly after that.
The humans became nervous very quickly as word spread and other foals were discovered. Some thought it was demonic, and wanted to slaughter the "abominations." These men were able to whip the others into a fervor. I begged Mr. Wells to let me speak on the behalf of these new foals, but he said that'd only scare people more. I trusted him, and to his credit, he urged calm, and suggested things be studied scientifically. He was, as the leader of the earlier expedition and the founder of the village, able to calm most of the others down after a few tense days.
When it seemed to be over, I relaxed just a bit. Then the worst happened. A lone farmer, fed up with the "devil voices" in his barn, decided to kill one of the foals. That would be bad enough, but the farmer himself was found in town the next morning, ranting incoherently to anyone who'd listen, saying how he'd done a horrible thing. How the foal had cried out as he tried to kill it, and asked him why, why he was hurting it. The farmer raved like a lunatic, they said, claiming how he'd damned himself in murdering an innocent, and as a small crowd gathered, he'd taken his own life there in the village square.
"Oh no, that's horrible!" Twilight had a hoof over her mouth in shock. "What'd you do?"
"What could I do?" I said. "I cried. For a long time, well into the night."
Twilight reached over with her own wing and hugged me. I sucked in a breath and continued the tale.
When I finished crying, I got angry. I resolved I wouldn't let that happen to another foal, and I began to make a plan. I'd sneak around the next night, and free all of the newly intelligent foals and disappear with them. This was a wide world, with grass to eat and fresh water as far as the eye could see. We could run for days, far beyond the reach of the men.
By the time morning came, the anger had subsided, though not the resolve. I decided to tell Mr. Wells of my plan, and hoped he'd be sympathetic. He was, but he warned me the others would likely never welcome us back, and that some may even try to hunt us down. I told him we'd simply have to learn to defend ourselves. He nodded grimly, but wished me luck.
I departed at dusk, but didn't open the first stable until nearly midnight, wanting to make sure the humans were all asleep. It didn't take too long, as the village was still small, less than a hundred men, and only a few dozen horses. I took nine foals with me that night, and we fled beyond the horizon. As we left, galloping in moonlight, I thought of the other horses left behind. They would have more foals, and in some years, things would begin again. The new foals I had were all over three years in age before they'd began to manifest their unique traits, and I vowed I'd return before that could happen again.
Chapter 6: Are We Not Horses?
Over the next few months I spent nearly every waking moment trying to keep nine curious young ponies safe from harm, well fed, and sheltered. It was far more difficult than I had imagined, as these young ones were far less hearty than their unthinking kin. While they could eat grass, they seemed to dislike the taste of it and complained constantly of bellyaches. Their digestive systems didn't handle it well. Wild fruit was always a favorite, but it was hard to come by. Many were losing weight when they should've been gaining it. I started to resort to making them eat grubs and the like. They all complained of the awful taste, but at least it was enough protein to keep them from starving.
It hit me one day, when Puddinghead asked me why they weren't like the others in the stables where they'd been raised.
"Are we not horses?" she asked.
I shook my head.
"What are we then?"
I had no answer for her. I realized wasn't raising horses that could talk, but some new species that was, in many ways, far more similar to the humans we'd left behind than they were the horses that had birthed them. They needed homes with proper roofs and walls, warm fires, cooked food, and, most importantly, education. There was only one place I knew of which had all that, so one day in mid summer, I lead the herd back toward Mr. Well's village.
We were still half a mile outside of town when the first villager saw us. He approached warily, I suppose thinking we were wild animals. I decided to try speaking to him, and he ran off when I did so. Not a great start.
By the time we got to the village itself, word had spread. Several dozen of the townspeople were blocking the road, with several of them armed with guns or farm implements.
"Hello," I said. "We come seeking help."
There was a muttering among the crowd, and a few gasps. I heard several uses of the word "abomination." One man stepped forward and told us to go away. I pleaded again, saying that I needed food and shelter for these children.
I... well, forgive me if I gloss over this. It was ugly, the words that were exchanged after that. The crowd got angry, and I realized I should never have returned. Wells had warned me before I'd left, but I'd become desperate, and thought surely I could reason with them. But this was before I'd learned how mobs behave. Most ponies, and people, are usually rational. But it only takes one or two bad apples to spoil the bunch. I decided it was best to leave before things got worse.
But we had been surrounded. More villagers had come up behind us. I begged them to just let us go, promising they wouldn't see us again, that we wouldn't bother them. They'd have none of it though. Then Mr. Wells stepped into the fray. He must've been in a nearby building, as I hadn't seem him until that moment. As expected, he urged calm, and tried to explain how it was good and noble to help others in need, no matter who or what they were. The man that'd been the main agitator went up to him and knocked him out cold with the butt of his rifle.
Seeing this, Puddinghead panicked and tried to run. A man near her thought she was attacking, and lowered his gun, firing and hitting her in the shoulder. She slid in the dirt as her foreleg gave out and she screamed. The other men brought their guns to bear. I heard a shout of "Kill them!" and I knew we were all about to be slaughtered. That's when it happened.
Twilight's face was rapt with attention, eager to know what happened next. So I took another large bite of a new scone and chewed as slowly as I could. I bet she couldn't get to 10. 9... 8... 7...
I got to four before she burst out. "Come on! What happened?"
I smiled. "That's when I found the Sun."
I don't know how else to put it. I just reached out with every fiber of my being, with all the strength I could muster, willing, simply willing the violence to stop. I felt a power flow into me like none I've known before or since. It filled me with this amazing, radiant warmth, pulsing through my veins and my very soul. I felt my hooves leave the ground, and I stared into the men before me. They seemed so much smaller now, like paper-thin cut-outs of creatures laid bare. I could see their hopes, their dreams, their sadness. I could see the little thoughts flicker through their minds, and I could see their fear. As I rose higher I spread my wings, marveling only in the back of my own mind that I now had wings, and looked down upon them all.
"No," I said, hearing my own voice echo off the world itself. "These are my little ponies, and you will not harm them."
One tried to fire his rifle at me. I took it from him and crushed it in mid air. As a horse, I was strong, but I could never have bent steel so easily, even with all my strength. Now I crumpled his rifle like tissue with a mere thought. I took the other rifles, pistols, and anything else I could see that resembled a weapon, crumpling them all and discarding them in a pile before me.
Now it was their turn to run and panic. Many tried to flee the village, but I wouldn't allow it. I put a shield around the entire place, before descending to check on Puddinghead and Mr. Wells. The man seemed to be dazed, having a concussion for sure, but otherwise unharmed. Puddinghead was worse off, but the bullet had made a relatively clean wound in a large muscle, stopping before it could penetrate to any vital organs or veins. I extracted it with magic, and fused the wound shut.
Turning back to the village, I retrieved Mr. Wells portal machine from storage, and asked him to power it up. I told him they were going home, that I was ordering all humans to leave Olympus. Yes, it was rash of me. As I said, they were not all bad, but I was angry, and I admit, probably rather heady in my new-found power. Wells made a small attempt to argue, but looking at me, he quickly changed his mind. It wasn't until some years later that I realized just how powerful and fear-inducing my alicorn appearance can be.
Chapter 7: I Believe in Your Victory
As Celestia finished her story, I looked up at her, trying to imagine the sight of her when she'd first come into her power. Yeah, she could be pretty awe-inspiring.
I smiled. "I take it that's the real story behind the Summer Sun Celebration?"
"Well spotted. It was, in fact, solstice, though I didn't know it at the time."
"I kinda like that story better, if I'm honest. But I want to know what happened next! You sent them packing, then...?"
"Well, I forced them all to march back through that portal to their own world. I admit, I was slightly sad to see Wells leave, as he'd always been fair and just, but I knew, for the sake of the new foals, humans couldn't be allowed to remain."
"What happened to his machine?"
"I destroyed it. And before you get any ideas, I mean utterly destroyed, to the atomic level. Then I sealed the tear behind them, making sure they couldn't use that weak point in the veil again."
"Awww," I hung my head. "That would've been an interesting device to research, something that powerfully magical, but built without magic in itself? Amazing!"
"I couldn't risk them returning. Especially since we, the new foals and I, moved into the village. A few months later, we named it."
"Everfree?"
"Astute as always." Celestia smiled.
"I freed the remaining horses, though I cast a spell on each mare to know when and if they foaled, so I could keep an eye out for ponies that were born. We kept a few pets and livestock, but freed the rest."
"Did any of them become intelligent?"
"Not that I know of, though the Diamond Dogs are the one possible exception. My research shows they were likely around long before Wells' expedition though."
"So all the stories about our ancient past are just made up?"
"Yes. I borrowed heavily from human mythology, but tailored things to what this new world would need to survive. I wanted ponies to believe in things that were kind and pure, so the fairy tales I seeded were not about heroic battles and slaughter, but about friendship and love. I also believed that the less ponies knew about the human world, which was full of violence, the less harm they might bring to this one. I destroyed all the evidence I could of the more dangerous things. Though apparently I kept enough books that a few things—like swords—were eventually recreated."
"And so, teacups and handles... we're just copying things that humans had actual use for, even if we don't?"
Celestia chuckled. "More or less. While I eliminated the weapons, I saw no harm in a teacup or door knob, and I knew it'd be years before we'd ever be able to produce such things ourselves. But those first children that grew up, that was all they'd ever known. A teacup had a handle because teacups always had handles. So when the first artisan ponies tried to make their own, they also put a handle on it. It's only in the more recent decades where ponies have started to question some of those "traditional" designs and really innovate in practical ways."
I nodded. It made sense, even if it went against everything I thought I'd known. "But what happened to those first ponies? Did some of them suddenly grow wings or horns to become pegasi and unicorns?"
"No, but eventually some of their children did. That's really a story for another day though. Suffice to say, the magic of this world continues to influence us all, in ways both obvious and subtle."
I finished the last bite of my scone, and wiped my mouth as I thought about the timing of this revelation. "While I'm excited beyond measure to learn the truth of all this," I said. "I can't help but wonder why, after all these years, you're just now telling me."
At this, Celestia hung her head again. "We've had over a hundred years of peace here in Equestria, but I'm worried that era may be coming to an end."
"How so?"
"In recent months, I've started to sense new weakenings in the veil, similar to the one Wells' machine first used to pierce our world."
"Where at? Let's go stop it. Seal it back up like you did before!"
"That's the problem, Twilight. It's not just in one spot. I'm sensing them across the globe. I fear the humans may be returning, and I have a feeling they have not been idle in the past century."
"You think they're planning an invasion?"
"Not exactly. But their history is full of cases where technologically superior races meet and, practically by accident, extinguish less advanced ones. We've only just now begun to surpass the technology Wells brought with him a hundred years ago. Meanwhile, Earth has likely continued unabated. Their population was over a billion when I left and growing exponentially every day. Likewise, and by extension, so was their technology. At this point it may be so unimaginably advanced as to make even our most powerful magic seem like a cheap parlor trick."
I was shocked. "So you're saying there's no way to beat them?"
"I sincerely doubt it." Celestia seemed far too calm, even for her, in admitting we were doomed.
"So we should just give up?" I wanted to yell, but it came out as a weak whimper instead. If Celestia had surrendered hope, then what chance did I have to change things.
"No, of course not. I need you now, more than ever!"
"What do you want me to do then?"
"I want you to do what you do best; what you've always done; what you earned your position for doing; what all the fairy tales and lessons have taught you to do better than any pony I've ever known." Celestia paused, and smiled at me, and I swear I could feel the warmth of the sun itself shining through her as she finally revealed to me my true purpose.
"I want you to befriend them!"
"How old do you think the world is?"
I sat in Celestia's study, having been invited for afternoon tea. It had been some years since she'd given me a proper test, and I felt both curious and nostalgic at this unexpected return to form.
"Well, current theories suggest the planet itself is several billion years old, and—"
Celestia held up a hoof. "Permit me to clarify. How long do you think Equestria—that is, the world as we know it—has existed?"
A strange clarification to make, I felt. The obvious answer was since the three tribes joined at Hearth's Warming. Nopony had a solid answer for how long ago that was, however. I could estimate by working backwards: Luna's banishment was a thousand years, and the battle with Discord within a decade or so before that, leading back to... No, that's what I used to do. The honest answer is better. This is a lesson, not a test.
I set down my tea and replied. "A few thousand years, since the first Hearth's Warming. At least, that's what I've always understood."
Celestia nodded, smiling politely as she took another sip of the Earl Grey. "And if I told you it was far, far less than that, how do you think you'd react?"
Okay, I admit, now my mind was racing. Years ago, I would've jumped from my chair, excitedly demanding an explanation. Or in those early years as a princess, I would've tried my best to pretend I wasn't surprised in the least. I like to think I've grown past that, yet I'm sure in years to come I'll see that "maturity" as just another phase as well.
"Well," I said, smiling. "I'd do my best to avoid spitting tea all over this lovely table, but once I'd swallowed..." I made a show of doing so. "I'd probably yell something like 'Get there faster!'"
Celestia chuckled. "I miss those times, Twilight. When you were a filly, and every little thing I said, you treated as the most treasured of secrets you couldn't wait to hear."
"Yes, well, a couple of decades as a princess, and I've seen through your facade!" I vaguely stabbed my hoof at her in an accusatory and farcical manner.
"So you have. So you have." Celestia sighed. "And I've come to cherish you as a friend and equal as well." I smiled slightly, turning away from her gaze to hide my blush. I treasured her friendship more than anything, of course, yet the talk of even the most slightly sappy things still made me shy away, no matter how honest and true it was. One of those habits I'd never managed to break.
"But," she continued. "If you 'see through me', then do you still honestly believe I'm thousands of years old?"
"I..." I didn't have an answer for that. I mean, of course I believed. Everypony did! Princess Celestia was eternal, we all knew that... didn't we?
"You've never questioned it?" Celestia asked.
"Well," I began. "Of course I did, when I was little. You said you weren't quite as old as dirt."
Celestia snorted. "Ha ha! I remember that! You ran into the throne room when I was talking with some ambassador or other. Was it the yaks? Or no... the Zebraican! Anyway, you ran in, yelling to ask if I was older than dirt, because—"
"Because," I finished for her. "Moon Shadow had insisted no pony was older than her granddam, who was..."
"As old as the dirt itself." We both said the last line together, before chuckling.
"Oh wow." My turn to sigh now. "I was quite a hooffull back then, wasn't I?"
"Oh Twilight, you were... but I loved every minute of it."
"Waiiit... You're distracting me again! I said 'get there faster!'"
"Heh, you do see through me. But I know you love the chase and the mystery. Bear with this old mare a little while longer?"
I let out an exaggerated sigh, barely covering my actual smile. "Okay... fine."
Holding up her cup, Celestia looked at me. "What is this?"
I glared, uncertain how to answer. It was so obvious, yet...
"It's not a trick question, I promise."
"A teacup?"
"I mean, this little bit on the side."
"That's the handle." Again, too obvious.
"And what's it for?"
I realized then, that I'd never really thought about it. I drank plenty of tea—and coffee too, of course—and almost all the cups—or at least the fancy ones—had the same curved piece to one side. "Decoration?" I guessed. "I don't really know."
"What about the word?" she asked. "What's the etymology?"
I'm pretty sure my face scrunched up at that point. I mean, I really should know that one. I love words, in all their forms, and etymology is one of the most interesting parts of linguistics. If you understand how a word came to be, you understand more about the ponies that came up with it. But I honestly had no idea at "handle." I confessed my ignorance.
Celestia just nodded. "Walk with me," she said, before draining the cup and leaving it on the table. I quickly did likewise and followed her to the door.
She stopped before opening it. "And this?" She tapped a forehoof on the knob.
"A door knob or..." Realization began to dawn. "Door handle."
"Very good." She opened the door with her magic, and lead the way down the hall. I followed.
As we wound our way through the castle, I couldn't help but notice the "handle" on every door we went through. Then we took a turn I hadn't used in a long time, and descended the stairs towards the servant quarters.
We came to the first of the lower doors. It was much less ornate than the ones in the main parts of the castle, and Celestia paused there, turning to me. "Notice anything different?"
I'd never though about it much before, but it seemed too strange now. Here, below the stairs, the doors were held shut with simple latches, from which hung a short piece of cord any pony could easily pull with their teeth.
"Cords," I said. "No handles below the stairs."
Celestia nodded, smiling in that familiar way which told me I'd done well. But what did it mean? Was this a tribalism thing? Unicorns, with magic, made doors only they could easily open? Leaving others to awkwardly bite or grasp at slick knobs with awkward hooves?
We descended another flight of stairs and, after a few darker, torch-lit hallways, found ourselves in the kitchens.
"Oh, my stars!" An older mare of greater girth said as we entered.
"Mrs. Patmare," Celestia said, beaming. "How are you this lovely afternoon?"
"Oh, just fine, your Majesty. What can I do you for?"
"Well, if they're not all gone, a few of those scones from breakfast, with a little raspberry jam on the side would be lovely. I'm taking Princess Sparkle here on a tour to the lower gardens and thought we might have a light snack."
Lower gardens? I hadn't been there since I was a filly.
"Certainly," Mrs. Patmare replied. "Just give me a few minutes to heat them up in the oven."
"No rush, we're taking the day off."
Patmare scrambled off to the pantry and began ordering other kitchen staff about. That left Celestia and I staring at the stove.
"You see it, don't you?" Celestia looked at me knowingly.
"Yes," I admitted. I looked at the big, flat block of wood, easy to bite and hold, coming off the plain, cast iron pot. The "handle" of it. Further down the counter though, a fancy pot with cups and saucers stood on a likewise fancy platter, waiting to be washed. The handle there was a curved piece of porcelain, almost impossible for an earth pony to pour without burning themselves, yet what I always thought of as "proper."
"Thoughts?" Celestia prodded, ever the teacher.
"It's tribalist, isn't it?"
"How so?"
"Pots and 'handles' that only unicorns can use? Whereas the servants and other lower classes have much more practical things."
"I suppose that's part of it," she said. "But not the whole story. In fact, I think the joke is on us, those of us with horns. We're the ones who keep using things that make no sense."
I must confess, I was at a total loss as to what she was driving at. I said so.
"Think on this," Celestia suggested. "Even if you were a cruel and tribalist unicorn, wouldn't you rather place no handles at all upon your teacup, rather than ones simply difficult?"
"So..." My thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Patmare returned with a towel-lined basket full of scones, steaming and covered with another towel. Celestia thanked her, and took the food in her magic, heading through another, even older looking door in the back of the kitchens. I had no choice but to follow.
The stairs were dark, and winding, but eventually emerged onto the terraced lower gardens. The place was practically chiseled from the cliffs of the Canterhorn, and overlooked an immense drop to the sinuous river far below. Small rows of garden-boxes lined the bare stone. In each, rich soil, undoubtedly brought in from elsewhere, were growing various herbs. We walked between these, and down several steps to the lowest terrace. There, the view to the river and the Canterlot Falls was magnificent.
"I haven't been here in years," I said, as Celestia removed the covering towel and extracted the pot of jam.
"It's one of the castle's best kept secrets," she said. "The view is spectacular, even more so than many of the "viewpoints" in the castle itself."
I nodded. "Why don't you bring more visitors here? Surely you could widen the stairs and make it more accessible."
"Of course I could, but..."
"Then you wouldn't have your quite spot." I finished for her.
She chuckled. "I was going to say the staff wouldn't have their little slice of peace, but I must confess I do like to make use of it as well."
I grinned, then remembered our conversation. "So what's all this about handles and unicorns?"
"And ages," Celestia said. "You mustn't forget the original question."
"Okay, so how old are you?" I said, figuring I may as well get to the gist of it.
"I am one hundred and twenty six years old."
My mouth hung open. Of course I believed her. She had no reason to lie.
"But, but..." I stammered. "Luna was banished for a thousand years!" I leapt to the first "solid" evidence I had.
"And you don't find that number curiously round and precise?"
"Well, yes, of course, but..." Again, I trailed off. I wanted to argue that just because something was seen as a pattern or "round" by the equine mind didn't mean it wasn't also true. But maybe that one was a stretch. I hung my head.
"How long was it then?"
"Forty eight years. Still the better part of a lifetime."
I had no reply. How does one react to something like that. My Princess, my... well, no matter how much of a friend she may now be, I couldn't help but think the word "Goddess." This pony, this great force of history, just told me she was practically mortal, at least in span if not in power. I felt tears begin to form in my eyes. Not so much at anything particularly sad, just at the apparent falsehood I'd been fed for so many years.
"Oh Twilight," Celestia rushed to my side and wrapped a wing around me in a tight hug. "I never meant to hurt you, or anypony. Can you at least trust me in that?"
I nodded, sniffling. Wiping my nose with a pastern, I looked up and asked, "But why?"
Celestia, she appeared to ponder this for a moment. "Expediency, I guess. At least at first. I needed a story to make all my little ponies believe in something bigger than themselves."
"Even if it isn't true? Even if it's just a fairy tale?"
"Especially then. A wise, wise person once said, 'Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.'"
My mind almost caught on the unusual choice of noun that was "person," but instead, all I could think of was the idea of fighting my friends like Spike or Ember. "But I don't want to beat dragons... some of my best friends are dragons!"
Celestia laughed out loud at that, squeezing me tighter in the hug and I felt warm tears soak into my fur where her chin rested on my neck.
"Oh my dear Twilight Sparkle, that is so very, very much the point! That's why I've asked you here today. You have exceeded not only my hopes, but even my wildest dreams. You raised a dragon as not just a friend, but a brother, and he in turn has befriend others of his race, teaching them more than I ever hoped about friendship and compassion. Twilight, you didn't just 'beat' them, you befriended them!"
I was happy that she was happy, but still confused. I pushed out of the hug slightly so I could face her. "But what does this have to do with teacups?"
"And why is a raven like a writing desk?" she asked, sticking her tongue out in jest.
"What?"
She waved it off. "Sorry, forgive an old mare her silly jokes."
"But you're not old. You just told me you're only one hundred and twenty six."
"And that's not 'old' to you?"
I thought about it. "Well, it's far younger than I thought."
She looked at me. "Twilight, I am old. One hundred and twenty six is very, very, very old for a horse."
I flinched slightly at the term. "You shouldn't say that about yourself."
"I may be old, but I'm not senile yet. I use that word because it is the correct word to use. I mean it literally. I am not a pony like the rest of you. Haven't you always wondered why I stand so much taller than others? Even taller by far than you and the other alicorns? Even my own sister, Luna?"
Of course I had wondered. Who hadn't? When Luna first returned, we assumed she'd regain her stature along with her power, after some time. But she never did. She was always more than a head shorter than her sister, and no other pony approached the height of Celestia. But she was Sol Invictus, so why should we be surprised when she towered above all? My actual answer, was sadly, far less coherent.
"But... but you're Princess Celestia! You control the sun!"
"Indeed. But I was born a horse, and named Celeste, and I controlled nothing but the few extra oats I could swindle from the stable boy's barrow when he wasn't looking."
"You... you're an actual horse? As in, a cave pony, from prehistoric times?"
She laughed again. "Yes, 'cave pony', I suppose. I borrowed that from them. I'm a horse, an equine, born without magic or even speech. I seeded the 'cave pony' theory to explain ancestors before thought. I naively imagined what they might have been, had we ponies been born from this world."
I was beyond shock at this point. I mean that literally. I just wanted to know the rest of the story, regardless of how surprising it was. "Tell me everything!"
And she did. But only on the promise that I keep quiet.
Chapter 2: A Horse With No Name
I was born in 1889, on a small farm outside a city called Inverness, in the country of Scotland, which was part of Great Britain, a nation-state on a world called Earth. I was, as I've mentioned before, a horse.
Yes, before you react, I mean that I was an animal, self-aware in only the most basic sense, in that I knew I existed. The rest of the details above are ones I learned later, after coming to Equus, or as they called it then, "Olympus."
My early life was, quite frankly, dull. I was raised as any other horse was, in stable and pasture, to be used for labor and work around the farm. My pedigree was not high, at least to my understanding. I have no memories of my sire or dam, such as they were. My earliest memories are when I was perhaps two, and those brief thefts of extra oats I talked about before.
No, the interesting part starts later. I was perhaps five or maybe six. A grown adult for a horse. Do remember, time and aging works a bit differently for you ponies.
I was taken south, to England. Another country, but part of this same Britain. There I was sold at an auction...
No, I remind you, I was a nearly unthinking animal at that time. I bear them no ill will for treating me as such. We posses pets and farm animals ourselves, do we not?
As I was saying, I was sold, to a Mr. H.G. Wells. He was mounting an expedition, and needed many pack animals. I was sorted in with nearly two dozen other horses, and sent by ship to a remote island.
The journey was harsh. We were packed in quite tight, and while I could sleep far longer on my feet back then, at some point, one seriously needs to lie down and sleep properly. Alas, we could not, and many of us collapsed in the hold. Thankfully, none perished, and we were eventually led out onto a blindingly white beach.
I cared little for the scenery at the time however, and sought out the troughs of water and feed before collapsing in the shade of the oddly shaped trees.
The next morning, we were roused by our handlers. Yes, hmm, I suppose I should detail them a bit more. To me, they simply were, but to you and other ponies, you've never seen such creatures. So let me elaborate.
They called themselves "men" or, in more formal literature, "humans." Yes, Lyra was on to something. We'll talk about that later.
Back to the topic at hand. These men stood around my height, but they were bipedal, like Diamond Dogs. They were mostly bald, having visible hair only upon their heads. Upon their bodies was only the lightest of hairs, though some were thicker than others. Still, nothing resembling the fur or coats of the creatures in Equestria. Also like Diamond Dogs, they had grasping digits at the end of each upper appendage, which they called...
"Hands!" Twilight Sparkle, my ever eager student, shouted.
"You promised to be quiet," I said, before continuing.
So yes, large, upright, hairless apes. But ones with incredible technology; technology we saw first hoof the next morning.
Mr. Wells, apparently the leader of the expedition, had a device set up just at the edge of the beach. His assistants, human and otherwise, had cleared the nearby jungle to make a roughly flat area a few dozen lengths in diameter. In the middle of that sat a massive piece of industrial equipment, not unlike the factory machines you might find in Manehatten.
Striding to the center of it, Mr. Wells gave a speech of some kind, one which I could not understand. Then he pulled a lever and the machinery came to life. Whirring and fritzing and clicking, it built in power. The noise made my ears lay flat, and I wanted to bolt, but the training I'd had told me to stay still. So I did.
A bright light shot from the machine, impacted on something unseen in mid-air, and tore open a hole. The edges of the portal were ragged shards of what I now recognize as elemental magic, glowing actinic colors both seen and unseen. As they tore open the veil between worlds, the far side became visible. A great, green plain with snow-capped peaks in the distance. Yes, as you've undoubtedly guessed, Equus.
Wells stepped through, and several others followed. An hour later they returned, grinning. It seemed whatever plans they had were confirmed. It was then the preparations truly began. The other men packed up supplies, and started to load us horses down.
As they were doing so, Wells and a few others that had gone through with him—his key aides—came to the corral where we were being kept. Walking among us, Wells himself came to me. He ran his hand along my flank and saw the star-like brown coloration on my hip. He said something. I couldn't speak the language back then, but it seemed he thought it lucky. He chose me to ride, and the next thing he said, I do remember.
He named me "Celeste."
"So you didn't have a cutie mark?" I asked.
"No," Celestia said. "I'd yet to find the Sun. I was a horse. Mostly white, but with brown socks, one of which extended to a star-like pattern on my right rear hip."
"Then how did you become—"
"All in good time, my little pony."
Chapter 3: Olympus Mons
The world we entered, through that portal, it was the Equus you know today. But the men called it "Olympus." It would be years before I understood why, but I can save you the wait. The simple fact was that it contained many, many creatures they'd previous considered to be purely mythological. More specifically, the first they encountered—manticore, hydra, chimera—were all from a particular Greek mythology, which centered around a high mountain called Olympus where the gods supposedly resided. As the first sight they had through the portal was of the Canterhorn and its high peak, they quickly called this new world after that ancient place.
And yes, it would turn out that, in much the same way they'd been able to open a portal to this new world, they weren't the first, and thus creatures from both worlds had mingled at points in ancient times, and been remembered as myths and legends.
The expedition moved across the plains, and set up camp in what is now the Everfree Forest. No, that's another story. Suffice to say, it was just a plain back then.
The first night was uneventful. The next night though, that's where it became interesting. A pegasus landed at the edge of camp, and those men on guard duty were taken by surprise. They'd been sleeping when they weren't supposed to. The pegasus, it was... well, it was strange. It's not like the pegasi you know today. It was wild, feral. More like me as I was then. She had wings, but they were wings on a horse, not a rational pony. Still, she had some semblance of language about her, and in her own, primitive way, was demanding to know what these creatures were doing in her domain.
The men, of course, understood none of this. They heard at best only squawking and whinnies. They pulled their swords, and their guns.
Oh right, guns. Guns are... well, machines. They have a small chemical charge, which can be ignited with the pull of a lever. That charge expands, pushing a metal ball down a tube with speed enough to kill at dozens of lengths.
So they pointed their guns. I shook my reins free of the tree trunk they'd loosely hitched me to, and ran into the conflict. The men, most of them anyway, were ready to attack. The pegasus, she was ready to take them on herself, not knowing what harm their weapons could inflict. I... I didn't quite have words, but could somehow whinny and nicker enough to get her to back down. She didn't like it, but she flew off instead of fighting.
Wells came up to me, and patted me on the neck and shoulder. "See boys, like I said, she's good luck!" Yes, I actually understood what he said. That was a revelation in itself, but at the time, it felt just... normal. There was no surprise in it, almost as if I'd always known what the humans were saying.
"Wait, so the human language, you just suddenly understood it?"
Celestia chuckled. "Yes, almost as if by 'magic' it seemed."
"So what did it sound like?" I asked. "Can you still speak it?"
"Of course," Celestia said, grinning. "I'm speaking it right now."
I tried to will myself not to react, but found my mouth none-the-less agape.
Chapter 4: A Horse is a Horse
I know you expect some tales of derring-do at this point, but I fear I don't have many. Things went, as far as I can tell, according to plan for Mr. Wells and his crew. The camp grew into a small village over the course of several years. Wells set up a home for himself on the western edge of it, and I remained his faithful horse. I know it may seem a bit strange, but somehow the magic that was slowly pervading my body, while giving me the understanding of language, never made it feel odd to be simply a servant and steed. At least in those first few years.
As timed passed, that changed. I'd been listening to humans for several years since coming to Olympus. I'd learned a lot just from eavesdropping, such as it were. Mr. Wells seemed almost as if he recognized this in some way, as, before many of our rides, he'd talk to me almost as if I were another human. As such, it seemed only natural when one day, I actually responded in kind.
To tell the truth, I can't even remember what the conversation was at this point. He'd said something completely banal... let us pretend it was a comment on the baker's raising of prices.
"And that Jared, he's now charging two pence for a single loaf!" Wells said, as he was tightening my saddle.
"That scoundrel!" I replied, leaning to one side to let the belt slip more comfortably around my middle.
And that was it. The stepping off point. Wells looked at me like I was some spawn straight out of Tartarus—which is actually in their Olympian mythology as well.
Wells was shocked, flabbergasted even, at my speech, but at the time I didn't understand why.
"What's wrong, Mr. Wells?" I asked.
"You... You spoke!" He said, awkwardly stepping backwards.
"Why yes, I suppose I did. Is that a problem?"
"But... but... you're a horse!"
"Indeed," I said. "But I think I'm a different sort of horse."
"A horse is a horse," he insisted. "And horses... Can. Not. Talk!"
I know it seems foolish, but I was genuinely confused by this at the time. Part of my mind insisted that he was absolutely right, and another part simultaneously insisted that speech was the most normal thing in the world.
"But I can talk."
He ran from the stable, slamming the gate of my stall behind him. I approached it slowly. It had only a simple latch on the outside, one easily reached if I craned my neck just so. It'd never been a true barrier, just a suggestion of where I belonged. Suddenly, it seemed less important. I opened it with a gentle flick of my lips and trotted outside. I caught just a glimpse of Mr. Wells running into the house. I trotted over. I thought to go in and explain myself, but this door was different. It had no regular latch on it, but...
"A handle!" Twilight interrupted.
"You said you'd keep quite."
"You're taking too long." She blew a raspberry at me, which reminded me I had scones getting cold. I levitated two from the basket and spread some jam on each.
"Here," I said. "Maybe that'll keep you silent for a minute."
My old student grinned at me, but gamely took a huge bite and made a show of smacking her lips.
I continued.
A handle. I tried biting at it, but it was round and slick iron. I could turn it slightly, but not enough to open. I tried my hooves too, but they couldn't grab, not like the earth ponies you know today. So I did the next best thing. I turned around and kicked the door in. Hearing the muttering of Wells on the upper floor, I went up the stairs. I found him in his bedroom, pacing anxiously.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I nosed open the door to his room.
"What?" He nearly screamed. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you," I said. "You ran off, and seemed scared."
"I'm losing it. Oh lord, help me. I am losing it."
"Losing what?"
"My mind!"
You can see where this is going. Suffice to say, it took me some time to talk him back from the edge and convince him that I was, in fact, really speaking. Recognizing that, it took me some time further to convince him that I was still, in fact, a horse. Convincing him those two were not mutually exclusive took the rest of the night.
I paused to enjoy a few bites of my scone.
"So, did the other horses gain the power of speech as well?" Twilight asked.
I finished chewing a bite. "No, the magic of Equus didn't seem to affect them as it did me. Likewise, most of the men seemed unaffected as well, though I saw hints that one or two may have been gaining some form of magical ability. I didn't recognize it at the time, of course."
"So there was no magic at all on this 'Earth' they came from?"
"Not as far as I know. Though they had stories of magic in ancient times. I suspect that, like with ponies, magical ability varies with each individual. I was attuned enough to it that I became sapient, and perhaps some humans gained powers of their own from time to time."
"So if none of the other ponies... err.... horses could talk, what happened next?"
Chapter 5: Young Blood
Wells kept quiet about my speech, and begged me to do the same. He said it would scare the other humans. I was okay with this initially, but after a few more months, I started to feel lonely. I realized during that time that the other horses were seeming more and more like dumb beasts to me, and though I tried to talk to them, they never showed any sign of true understanding.
Then one day, that all changed. A young filly named Puddinghead—because she continually bumped into walls—overheard me talking to myself, and tried mimicking me. It was exactly what you'd expect from a child first learning to speak; an imitation of the sounds more than the content. But I quickly realized this wasn't normal for a horse. No, she was different, she was like me.
Over the next few months, I taught her what I could of language, though it was tedious. She was small, and far weaker than other foals her age. She was growing much more slowly as well. As you might be guessing, she was the first true "pony," having been changed by the world's magic before she was even born.
I started to seek out others like her, but it wasn't as if I had free reign. I was ostensibly still a farm animal, and only traveled to other estates or into the village itself when ridden. Still, I managed to find other intelligent foals, and saw enough evidence to know a knew species was being born, one I felt obligated to protect, though I wasn't yet sure how.
A few months later, one of the villagers heard a foal in his own stable speaking. Things moved quickly after that.
The humans became nervous very quickly as word spread and other foals were discovered. Some thought it was demonic, and wanted to slaughter the "abominations." These men were able to whip the others into a fervor. I begged Mr. Wells to let me speak on the behalf of these new foals, but he said that'd only scare people more. I trusted him, and to his credit, he urged calm, and suggested things be studied scientifically. He was, as the leader of the earlier expedition and the founder of the village, able to calm most of the others down after a few tense days.
When it seemed to be over, I relaxed just a bit. Then the worst happened. A lone farmer, fed up with the "devil voices" in his barn, decided to kill one of the foals. That would be bad enough, but the farmer himself was found in town the next morning, ranting incoherently to anyone who'd listen, saying how he'd done a horrible thing. How the foal had cried out as he tried to kill it, and asked him why, why he was hurting it. The farmer raved like a lunatic, they said, claiming how he'd damned himself in murdering an innocent, and as a small crowd gathered, he'd taken his own life there in the village square.
"Oh no, that's horrible!" Twilight had a hoof over her mouth in shock. "What'd you do?"
"What could I do?" I said. "I cried. For a long time, well into the night."
Twilight reached over with her own wing and hugged me. I sucked in a breath and continued the tale.
When I finished crying, I got angry. I resolved I wouldn't let that happen to another foal, and I began to make a plan. I'd sneak around the next night, and free all of the newly intelligent foals and disappear with them. This was a wide world, with grass to eat and fresh water as far as the eye could see. We could run for days, far beyond the reach of the men.
By the time morning came, the anger had subsided, though not the resolve. I decided to tell Mr. Wells of my plan, and hoped he'd be sympathetic. He was, but he warned me the others would likely never welcome us back, and that some may even try to hunt us down. I told him we'd simply have to learn to defend ourselves. He nodded grimly, but wished me luck.
I departed at dusk, but didn't open the first stable until nearly midnight, wanting to make sure the humans were all asleep. It didn't take too long, as the village was still small, less than a hundred men, and only a few dozen horses. I took nine foals with me that night, and we fled beyond the horizon. As we left, galloping in moonlight, I thought of the other horses left behind. They would have more foals, and in some years, things would begin again. The new foals I had were all over three years in age before they'd began to manifest their unique traits, and I vowed I'd return before that could happen again.
Chapter 6: Are We Not Horses?
Over the next few months I spent nearly every waking moment trying to keep nine curious young ponies safe from harm, well fed, and sheltered. It was far more difficult than I had imagined, as these young ones were far less hearty than their unthinking kin. While they could eat grass, they seemed to dislike the taste of it and complained constantly of bellyaches. Their digestive systems didn't handle it well. Wild fruit was always a favorite, but it was hard to come by. Many were losing weight when they should've been gaining it. I started to resort to making them eat grubs and the like. They all complained of the awful taste, but at least it was enough protein to keep them from starving.
It hit me one day, when Puddinghead asked me why they weren't like the others in the stables where they'd been raised.
"Are we not horses?" she asked.
I shook my head.
"What are we then?"
I had no answer for her. I realized wasn't raising horses that could talk, but some new species that was, in many ways, far more similar to the humans we'd left behind than they were the horses that had birthed them. They needed homes with proper roofs and walls, warm fires, cooked food, and, most importantly, education. There was only one place I knew of which had all that, so one day in mid summer, I lead the herd back toward Mr. Well's village.
We were still half a mile outside of town when the first villager saw us. He approached warily, I suppose thinking we were wild animals. I decided to try speaking to him, and he ran off when I did so. Not a great start.
By the time we got to the village itself, word had spread. Several dozen of the townspeople were blocking the road, with several of them armed with guns or farm implements.
"Hello," I said. "We come seeking help."
There was a muttering among the crowd, and a few gasps. I heard several uses of the word "abomination." One man stepped forward and told us to go away. I pleaded again, saying that I needed food and shelter for these children.
I... well, forgive me if I gloss over this. It was ugly, the words that were exchanged after that. The crowd got angry, and I realized I should never have returned. Wells had warned me before I'd left, but I'd become desperate, and thought surely I could reason with them. But this was before I'd learned how mobs behave. Most ponies, and people, are usually rational. But it only takes one or two bad apples to spoil the bunch. I decided it was best to leave before things got worse.
But we had been surrounded. More villagers had come up behind us. I begged them to just let us go, promising they wouldn't see us again, that we wouldn't bother them. They'd have none of it though. Then Mr. Wells stepped into the fray. He must've been in a nearby building, as I hadn't seem him until that moment. As expected, he urged calm, and tried to explain how it was good and noble to help others in need, no matter who or what they were. The man that'd been the main agitator went up to him and knocked him out cold with the butt of his rifle.
Seeing this, Puddinghead panicked and tried to run. A man near her thought she was attacking, and lowered his gun, firing and hitting her in the shoulder. She slid in the dirt as her foreleg gave out and she screamed. The other men brought their guns to bear. I heard a shout of "Kill them!" and I knew we were all about to be slaughtered. That's when it happened.
Twilight's face was rapt with attention, eager to know what happened next. So I took another large bite of a new scone and chewed as slowly as I could. I bet she couldn't get to 10. 9... 8... 7...
I got to four before she burst out. "Come on! What happened?"
I smiled. "That's when I found the Sun."
I don't know how else to put it. I just reached out with every fiber of my being, with all the strength I could muster, willing, simply willing the violence to stop. I felt a power flow into me like none I've known before or since. It filled me with this amazing, radiant warmth, pulsing through my veins and my very soul. I felt my hooves leave the ground, and I stared into the men before me. They seemed so much smaller now, like paper-thin cut-outs of creatures laid bare. I could see their hopes, their dreams, their sadness. I could see the little thoughts flicker through their minds, and I could see their fear. As I rose higher I spread my wings, marveling only in the back of my own mind that I now had wings, and looked down upon them all.
"No," I said, hearing my own voice echo off the world itself. "These are my little ponies, and you will not harm them."
One tried to fire his rifle at me. I took it from him and crushed it in mid air. As a horse, I was strong, but I could never have bent steel so easily, even with all my strength. Now I crumpled his rifle like tissue with a mere thought. I took the other rifles, pistols, and anything else I could see that resembled a weapon, crumpling them all and discarding them in a pile before me.
Now it was their turn to run and panic. Many tried to flee the village, but I wouldn't allow it. I put a shield around the entire place, before descending to check on Puddinghead and Mr. Wells. The man seemed to be dazed, having a concussion for sure, but otherwise unharmed. Puddinghead was worse off, but the bullet had made a relatively clean wound in a large muscle, stopping before it could penetrate to any vital organs or veins. I extracted it with magic, and fused the wound shut.
Turning back to the village, I retrieved Mr. Wells portal machine from storage, and asked him to power it up. I told him they were going home, that I was ordering all humans to leave Olympus. Yes, it was rash of me. As I said, they were not all bad, but I was angry, and I admit, probably rather heady in my new-found power. Wells made a small attempt to argue, but looking at me, he quickly changed his mind. It wasn't until some years later that I realized just how powerful and fear-inducing my alicorn appearance can be.
Chapter 7: I Believe in Your Victory
As Celestia finished her story, I looked up at her, trying to imagine the sight of her when she'd first come into her power. Yeah, she could be pretty awe-inspiring.
I smiled. "I take it that's the real story behind the Summer Sun Celebration?"
"Well spotted. It was, in fact, solstice, though I didn't know it at the time."
"I kinda like that story better, if I'm honest. But I want to know what happened next! You sent them packing, then...?"
"Well, I forced them all to march back through that portal to their own world. I admit, I was slightly sad to see Wells leave, as he'd always been fair and just, but I knew, for the sake of the new foals, humans couldn't be allowed to remain."
"What happened to his machine?"
"I destroyed it. And before you get any ideas, I mean utterly destroyed, to the atomic level. Then I sealed the tear behind them, making sure they couldn't use that weak point in the veil again."
"Awww," I hung my head. "That would've been an interesting device to research, something that powerfully magical, but built without magic in itself? Amazing!"
"I couldn't risk them returning. Especially since we, the new foals and I, moved into the village. A few months later, we named it."
"Everfree?"
"Astute as always." Celestia smiled.
"I freed the remaining horses, though I cast a spell on each mare to know when and if they foaled, so I could keep an eye out for ponies that were born. We kept a few pets and livestock, but freed the rest."
"Did any of them become intelligent?"
"Not that I know of, though the Diamond Dogs are the one possible exception. My research shows they were likely around long before Wells' expedition though."
"So all the stories about our ancient past are just made up?"
"Yes. I borrowed heavily from human mythology, but tailored things to what this new world would need to survive. I wanted ponies to believe in things that were kind and pure, so the fairy tales I seeded were not about heroic battles and slaughter, but about friendship and love. I also believed that the less ponies knew about the human world, which was full of violence, the less harm they might bring to this one. I destroyed all the evidence I could of the more dangerous things. Though apparently I kept enough books that a few things—like swords—were eventually recreated."
"And so, teacups and handles... we're just copying things that humans had actual use for, even if we don't?"
Celestia chuckled. "More or less. While I eliminated the weapons, I saw no harm in a teacup or door knob, and I knew it'd be years before we'd ever be able to produce such things ourselves. But those first children that grew up, that was all they'd ever known. A teacup had a handle because teacups always had handles. So when the first artisan ponies tried to make their own, they also put a handle on it. It's only in the more recent decades where ponies have started to question some of those "traditional" designs and really innovate in practical ways."
I nodded. It made sense, even if it went against everything I thought I'd known. "But what happened to those first ponies? Did some of them suddenly grow wings or horns to become pegasi and unicorns?"
"No, but eventually some of their children did. That's really a story for another day though. Suffice to say, the magic of this world continues to influence us all, in ways both obvious and subtle."
I finished the last bite of my scone, and wiped my mouth as I thought about the timing of this revelation. "While I'm excited beyond measure to learn the truth of all this," I said. "I can't help but wonder why, after all these years, you're just now telling me."
At this, Celestia hung her head again. "We've had over a hundred years of peace here in Equestria, but I'm worried that era may be coming to an end."
"How so?"
"In recent months, I've started to sense new weakenings in the veil, similar to the one Wells' machine first used to pierce our world."
"Where at? Let's go stop it. Seal it back up like you did before!"
"That's the problem, Twilight. It's not just in one spot. I'm sensing them across the globe. I fear the humans may be returning, and I have a feeling they have not been idle in the past century."
"You think they're planning an invasion?"
"Not exactly. But their history is full of cases where technologically superior races meet and, practically by accident, extinguish less advanced ones. We've only just now begun to surpass the technology Wells brought with him a hundred years ago. Meanwhile, Earth has likely continued unabated. Their population was over a billion when I left and growing exponentially every day. Likewise, and by extension, so was their technology. At this point it may be so unimaginably advanced as to make even our most powerful magic seem like a cheap parlor trick."
I was shocked. "So you're saying there's no way to beat them?"
"I sincerely doubt it." Celestia seemed far too calm, even for her, in admitting we were doomed.
"So we should just give up?" I wanted to yell, but it came out as a weak whimper instead. If Celestia had surrendered hope, then what chance did I have to change things.
"No, of course not. I need you now, more than ever!"
"What do you want me to do then?"
"I want you to do what you do best; what you've always done; what you earned your position for doing; what all the fairy tales and lessons have taught you to do better than any pony I've ever known." Celestia paused, and smiled at me, and I swear I could feel the warmth of the sun itself shining through her as she finally revealed to me my true purpose.
"I want you to befriend them!"
This story deserves credit for its ambitious and unique premise, and it hooked me early on with its meta discussion of all the things that ponies use that they are anatomically incapable of handling correctly. I was really excited to see where you took it.
I have mixed feelings on the final product, though. It's a little too convenient that Celestia was able to manufacture all of Equestrian history and lore from whatever materials the English colonists had on hand. And the fact that it was the H.G. Wells who started this endeavor, specifically, doesn't play as much into the story as I was hoping it would. It feels like wasted potential.
The stuff with Twilight and Celestia is probably the best material in the story; I love their chemistry and their repartee. The flashbacks are where things stumble.
Minor note, too, but the word "bullet" is used in May The Best Pet Win; it stands to reason that Celestia wouldn't have to explain to Twilight what guns are.
I have mixed feelings on the final product, though. It's a little too convenient that Celestia was able to manufacture all of Equestrian history and lore from whatever materials the English colonists had on hand. And the fact that it was the H.G. Wells who started this endeavor, specifically, doesn't play as much into the story as I was hoping it would. It feels like wasted potential.
The stuff with Twilight and Celestia is probably the best material in the story; I love their chemistry and their repartee. The flashbacks are where things stumble.
Minor note, too, but the word "bullet" is used in May The Best Pet Win; it stands to reason that Celestia wouldn't have to explain to Twilight what guns are.
This is a fix-fic, an attempt to fix a few weird things in canon simultaneously. The first rule of fix-fics is: We don't talk about fix-fics First, do no harm. The fix should not be worse than the thing it's fixing.
The fix in this story is less believable than the things it's fixing. That makes it not work as a fix-fic. The fix aspect is questionable: Does the "Celestia is only 120 years old" part have any connection to the origins-of-Equestria part? In that sense this is two separate stories smooshed together. I wonder if it wouldn't be better without the entire "handles" prelude story. What you have can be seen as 2 separate stories, with 2 separate moods, going in 2 separate directions, tacked together where one ends and the other begins.
The ending is good. Quibble with the word "befriend"; all the weight of the story is concentrated behind that word, and it's a weak word. "Make friends with" would sound stronger to me.
Agree with >>Posh that HG Wells is a Chekhov's gun that isn't fired.
Quibble: Story shifts without warning, pattern, or purpose between first-person Celestia and first-person Twilight.
The fix in this story is less believable than the things it's fixing. That makes it not work as a fix-fic. The fix aspect is questionable: Does the "Celestia is only 120 years old" part have any connection to the origins-of-Equestria part? In that sense this is two separate stories smooshed together. I wonder if it wouldn't be better without the entire "handles" prelude story. What you have can be seen as 2 separate stories, with 2 separate moods, going in 2 separate directions, tacked together where one ends and the other begins.
The ending is good. Quibble with the word "befriend"; all the weight of the story is concentrated behind that word, and it's a weak word. "Make friends with" would sound stronger to me.
Agree with >>Posh that HG Wells is a Chekhov's gun that isn't fired.
Quibble: Story shifts without warning, pattern, or purpose between first-person Celestia and first-person Twilight.
This is a very cool idea that sadly does not work, and here’s why:
Nothing more information can’t fix… but that fix is still necessary. Still, I look forward to seeing this in a fully internally consistent form.
I was perhaps five or maybe six. A grown adult for a horse. Do remember, time and aging works a bit differently for you ponies.It comes down to a question of simple math: Are there enough generations to make the history work? And, depending on how quickly the length of a generation grew, I don’t think there are, not when Sweetie Belle’s fifth birthday party saw her smaller than she is now. And that’s not taking Granny Smith into account. By all rights, she and anyone else around her age should remember Luna's banishment, making Nightmare Night more than a little bizarre. Heck, while we’re on the subject, why was Luna ever speaking in thees and thous if ponies first came this world in the 1880s? Where did she even come from?
Nothing more information can’t fix… but that fix is still necessary. Still, I look forward to seeing this in a fully internally consistent form.
I have mixed feelings about this. And I fear I'm mostly going to parrot the above.
First off, a disclaimer. I'm not really into mythoses that are along the lines of "Equestria is really Earth post some massive event". And while this is not literally that, it's close enough that it triggers the same responses from me.
That being said, if I ignore my distaste for that particular premise, it's still enjoyable. And it certainly does answer a very simple (and entertaining!) question. In fact, the first scene of the story is easily my favourite (I'd say "easily the best", but the stance in my disclaimer may be skewing that).
But there are still logistical flaws, many of which others pointed out. But the most important one to me is, you guessed it, H.G. Wells. Why? Well, did you ever read "Fans!"? No? Well, there was a storyline in there where they had to rescue H.G. Wells (there's a very good reason for it which I won't spoil) and they propose doing so by sending him a personal forcefield. Which, if he picks up, will allow them to better defend him. Someone else asks the leader why he thinks Wells would even consider touching such a strange and foreign device. The answer?
Because he's H.G. Wells.
My point here is I don't think he's reacting like I'd expect Mr. Wells to react to a talking pony, at least not initially. He already knows a) they're in a different REALITY and b) magic of some sort exists here (they met a real pegasus! Who else could a horse fly but with magic?). So while there might be a brief moment where he's very surprised, I don't think he'd ever be scared. He'd be fascinated. Intrigued. Want to learn more.
Because he is H.G. Wells.
So, yeah, sorry, I found that very distracting as I just couldn't buy it. Oh, I went along with it because the rest of the story was fairly interesting (though, again, flawed), but it still nagged me the entire rest of the time. ENough so that I had to write, well, this very rant about it.
I'd suggest either not having him be Wells since, as others pointed out, it's not necessary for him to be. Or make him a lot more Wellsy.
Anyway, this is getting long so I'll wrap up. I'll stress again that the Twilight and Celestia interactions are pretty great (though I wish we either only had Twilight's PoV or only Celestia's, but that's a minor nitpick), and I do think this is a pretty solid story even if not normally one I'd seek out. I do love me some world building! Even if I really hate the foundation you're building from.
Verdict: Flawed but enjoyable.
First off, a disclaimer. I'm not really into mythoses that are along the lines of "Equestria is really Earth post some massive event". And while this is not literally that, it's close enough that it triggers the same responses from me.
That being said, if I ignore my distaste for that particular premise, it's still enjoyable. And it certainly does answer a very simple (and entertaining!) question. In fact, the first scene of the story is easily my favourite (I'd say "easily the best", but the stance in my disclaimer may be skewing that).
But there are still logistical flaws, many of which others pointed out. But the most important one to me is, you guessed it, H.G. Wells. Why? Well, did you ever read "Fans!"? No? Well, there was a storyline in there where they had to rescue H.G. Wells (there's a very good reason for it which I won't spoil) and they propose doing so by sending him a personal forcefield. Which, if he picks up, will allow them to better defend him. Someone else asks the leader why he thinks Wells would even consider touching such a strange and foreign device. The answer?
Because he's H.G. Wells.
My point here is I don't think he's reacting like I'd expect Mr. Wells to react to a talking pony, at least not initially. He already knows a) they're in a different REALITY and b) magic of some sort exists here (they met a real pegasus! Who else could a horse fly but with magic?). So while there might be a brief moment where he's very surprised, I don't think he'd ever be scared. He'd be fascinated. Intrigued. Want to learn more.
Because he is H.G. Wells.
So, yeah, sorry, I found that very distracting as I just couldn't buy it. Oh, I went along with it because the rest of the story was fairly interesting (though, again, flawed), but it still nagged me the entire rest of the time. ENough so that I had to write, well, this very rant about it.
I'd suggest either not having him be Wells since, as others pointed out, it's not necessary for him to be. Or make him a lot more Wellsy.
Anyway, this is getting long so I'll wrap up. I'll stress again that the Twilight and Celestia interactions are pretty great (though I wish we either only had Twilight's PoV or only Celestia's, but that's a minor nitpick), and I do think this is a pretty solid story even if not normally one I'd seek out. I do love me some world building! Even if I really hate the foundation you're building from.
Verdict: Flawed but enjoyable.
Fairy Tales - A- - First reaction - I have to admit I was also mentally saying “Get to the point” along with Twilight. A couple of little hiccups like Sol Invictus when it should be Sol Invicta (female ending, or so one of my editors schooled me). On second reading, a little rough with the story telling, somewhat difficult to get a good suspension of disbelief going. In short, things just ‘happen’ so instead of a chain of events, you just have a lot of iron links laying around. It reads a little like a bulleted list instead of a story, but it *is* an interesting one.
I really don't like all those "Equestria is a post apocalyptic Earth" stories, and I was afraid that this story was going to go in that direction. I'm glad it didn't, and I actually found myself enjoying this story.
The parts about ages just doesn't work in my mind though. Luna would have had to have been gone for at least a few hundred years for everyone to have completely forgotten about her. (Though a story where only the ponies under 40 didn't remember Luna could be amusing.) This story also offers no explanation as to where Luna came from.
I do think the ending was quite good though.
The parts about ages just doesn't work in my mind though. Luna would have had to have been gone for at least a few hundred years for everyone to have completely forgotten about her. (Though a story where only the ponies under 40 didn't remember Luna could be amusing.) This story also offers no explanation as to where Luna came from.
I do think the ending was quite good though.
Okay, that's a BIG grab for plot and explanation here. So yeah, points for reach, but the execution needs some work. The overall idea is actually pretty cool, with a fairly concrete explanation for some of Equestrian lore. However, a lot more goes missing. As others pointed out, a lot of the technical details simply don't work. The timeline is all wrong, as either ponies like Granny Smith must be mind-wiped, or it doesn't make sense.
As Bugle points out, H.G. Wells is also a horrible choice. I mean, sure, slight "The Time Machine" vibes from the scene itself, but beyond that, he's just "some english bloke" and not THE H.G. Wells. Better to just have unknown dude there.
The story also feels a bit fractured. The first bit, with Twilight and Celestia talking, flows rather naturally, and for a good portion of the story. The flashback bit is almost another story entirely, and feels forced into the framing. It might be better to pick one settings or the other, and not try to mash the two.
All that said, I still think it's a fun idea, and with a fair bit of work to polish up the middle bits (especially lining up timelines coherently) it could be a lot stronger. Decent, but as only one of two scifi entries on my slate, I have to say it falls somewhere short of Slingshot.
As Bugle points out, H.G. Wells is also a horrible choice. I mean, sure, slight "The Time Machine" vibes from the scene itself, but beyond that, he's just "some english bloke" and not THE H.G. Wells. Better to just have unknown dude there.
The story also feels a bit fractured. The first bit, with Twilight and Celestia talking, flows rather naturally, and for a good portion of the story. The flashback bit is almost another story entirely, and feels forced into the framing. It might be better to pick one settings or the other, and not try to mash the two.
All that said, I still think it's a fun idea, and with a fair bit of work to polish up the middle bits (especially lining up timelines coherently) it could be a lot stronger. Decent, but as only one of two scifi entries on my slate, I have to say it falls somewhere short of Slingshot.
I'd agree in dropping H.G. Wells - make him an acquaintance of some kind of our scientist here. Make the scientist the source of inspiration.
The other bit is I'd say the timeline here is troublesome. I get /why/ 120 years, but if Luna has been gone only 40 years - well, if ponies have the lifespan and such of normal horses, it works. Otherwise it's troublesome. Especially when you factor Discord in.
My suggestion? Use time-lengthening. Once the veil is repaired, Equestria runs faster - 200 years with Luna being gone a century is adequately long enough. Or just have her leave in 1815; I mean you're going steampunk-ey anyhow, so having her depart 80 years earlier fixes the problems as well.
Lastly, curious - You have her quoting Neil Gaiman. Is she snaring earth books from the modern era?
The other bit is I'd say the timeline here is troublesome. I get /why/ 120 years, but if Luna has been gone only 40 years - well, if ponies have the lifespan and such of normal horses, it works. Otherwise it's troublesome. Especially when you factor Discord in.
My suggestion? Use time-lengthening. Once the veil is repaired, Equestria runs faster - 200 years with Luna being gone a century is adequately long enough. Or just have her leave in 1815; I mean you're going steampunk-ey anyhow, so having her depart 80 years earlier fixes the problems as well.
Lastly, curious - You have her quoting Neil Gaiman. Is she snaring earth books from the modern era?