Three weeks ago, it started with a dream.

Normally, I don't dream at night. At least, I don't dream in any way that I can remember. But that particular night, I did remember it.

I had found myself standing in a cave. There was some light, but it came from nowhere. The whole scene was strangely lacking in details. On the opposite side of the cave, there was a black and green blob. For reasons I couldn't name, I got the feeling that it was looking at me. Then the dream ended, my mind wandering to other things. The dream probably lasted only a second. Why did I remember it so well?

A day went by with all of the usual happenings. Go to school, do homework, eat food, and sleep. It's the story of my life. Then the dream came again.

This time, I was outside in a rocky wasteland. Black and green blob was there again. It seemed more... defined this time. The green was concentrated near the top left and bottom right. There were four thinner protrusions from the main part of the black blob. I could hear a voice, but as if I was under water and the speaker was not. The words had no meaning, just sound.

Again, the dream ends.

This continued for a couple of weeks. Every night, I would return to the same dream. Well, almost the same. I would be in a different location than the last time, usually alternating between the cave and the wasteland. Invariably, I would always appear some distance from the blob and hear the un-intelligible voice. The blob continued to gain detail until two nights ago. I could finally make out what I was seeing. It was a horse fly, pun intended. The insectoid-equine had a black carapace and tatters dragonfly wings. Yet it retained the basic shape, mane, and tail of a horse. Rather, it was more like a parody of a horse. The gigantic eyes and fangs on a rounded head were only some of the deviations from what a horse should be. There appeared to even be a tiny crown on that gigantic head. The voice I had been hearing had also been gaining clarity as well. Soon I could tell that the voice was coming from her. I say her because the voice sounded feminine. What she was actually saying remained a mystery. There was no possible way that human mouths could make those chittering words. Her voice was almost the definition of what I imagined a bug's language to be.

Last night, I dreamed that she spoke and I understood.

"What are you?"

My jaw dropped at the question, for it was spoken in her own tongue, yet I knew what she meant. From the tone of her words, the horse fly wasn't expecting a reply.

"That's new," I replied to her question. "I've never been able to understand you before tonight. As for your question, I am a human. Who? My name is William."

"You can SPEAK!?" She gasped at my reply. It took me a minute to realize that I had never spoken in these dreams.

"Of course I can. Why wouldn't I be able to speak in my dream?"

"YOUR dream? This is MY dream. Right now, I am sleeping in my palace chambers. I have had the.. misfortune... to have repeatedly dreamed of the same hairless monkey for the past three weeks," the bug growled. I didn't even know she could growl.

Ignoring the insult, I replied, "I'm sure that this is my dream. Of course I would dream of a wealthy horse fly a-," but I was cut off by her outburst.

"Horse fly!!!! How dare you compare me to a measly insect! I am Queen Chrysalis, the immortal ruler of the changelings! And this is my dream!"

“Well pardon me for punning, your majesty. I only call it like I see it.” That was rude of me. Why am I acting like this? “Though, there is no convincing me that you are real and I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“Well, I’ve never met a beast so–,” but she was cut off as my alarm jolted me from my sleep.
Have you ever woken up angry? Well, I had not before today. With a start like this, today is going to be a rough one.

I stumbled down the stairs in the dark, muttering to myself, “Stupid horse fly, stupid hour and a half bus ride, stupid 5:30 wakeup…” Making a beeline for the pantry, I opened the door to find… bland cereal… great. Grabbing it, along with the milk from the fridge, I started to make myself a bowl. Of course, just when I had begun to pour myself a bowl, I suffered from an acute attack of butterfingers. Milk spilled all over the counter and floor before I could upright the jug. Swearing to myself, I reached for the paper towels. The roll was empty. “Great, just great,” I whined. “Now, where did mom put the other rolls? Ahh…” Snapping my fingers at the last word, I was caught off guard by a flash. Where a half-empty jug of milk had been sitting, now lay an empty counter. It was simultaneously cleared of the spilled milk and my bowl of cereal.

Dumbfounded by this sudden development, and now lacking a need for the towels, I began to experiment. There was a pen on the counter. Focusing on it, I snapped my fingers.

Flash. No pen.

I then imagined the pen returning to me and snapped my fingers. Nothing happened. Disappointed, I tried again. Again, I got no result. Frustrated, I looked at a magnet on the refrigerator, and snapped.

Flash. Gone.

Imagining it back, I snapped. Nothing. Clapped. Nothing. “I wish the magnet was back.” Nothing.

“Well, that’s a disappointment. A power that sends things away to who-knows-where, and no way to get it back. I’m so going to be a super hero with this,” as if.

With my little tangent into the world of useless powers finished, I returned to the task at hand: food.

In her chambers deep within her hive, Queen Chrysalis was awoken by a jug of milk and breakfast cereal appearing over her head. This was followed by a pen and a magnet, each of which bounced off of the enraged queen’s head.

“SOME CHANGELING IS GOING TO DIE FOR THIS!”

The entire hive, now awake after the queen’s outburst, gave a collective shudder out of fear.

“Dude, you seem off today. What’s up, Will?” My friend Nick asked during home room at school. I gave him a rundown of this morning’s events. Nicks replied to my answer with, “Wait, wait, you got a super power? Prove it.” So I did. His pen vanished right out of his hand. “WHAAA! How the hell did you do that?” he exclaimed. I could only shrug. “Whatever. Give it back, ‘cuz that was my last pen.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t. It’s one way. Things go, but they don’t come back." Reaching into my bag, I produced one of my pens and gave it to Nick. "Here, take this.”

The grouchy queen, now milk and cereal free, sat at her desk. A map of Equestria was currently occupying said desk, along with quill and glass inkwell. ‘Changeling invasion plan,’ written in the Equuish language, was scrawled on the top of the map. The map was coated with arrows and other symbols outlining her plan.

A flash of light caught her attention. The clatter that followed brought it to the second pen, which now rolled around on the map. “I’m going to kill the changeling responsible for insulting me so,” raged the queen, momentarily forgetting that her subjects, who were a part of her hive mind, physically could not do anything of the sort.

Rearing up, Chrysalis pounded her hooves together to emphasize her point. Her thoughts were interrupted by a flash. Looking around, she noticed that the pen, her ink well, quill, and map had vanished off of her desk.

My first class was calculus. God, I love calculus class. Doc Stock is an amazing teacher, and his class is usually the highlight of my boring school days. I just started taking notes when a flash appeared over my head.

*Crash*

“Awww come on… what now?”

The black liquid from the broken container now covered my shoes and jeans. Every eye in the class was currently fixed on me.

“Mr. Ross, are you alright?” the professor asked.

“I’m fine, but there’s broken glass everywhere. Is this ink?”

A girl in the back asked, “What was that?” A shrug was my only reply.

After getting cleaned up as best I could, I grabbed the other objects that had appeared. The first was a familiar pen, which I traded back with Nick. The second was the quill, which I examined only briefly. The third, however, came as quite a shock. A map with ‘changeling invasion plan’ written on it, along with horse-pun city names. I gasped at what I was holding. Nick, seeing my reaction, looked over my shoulder at the map.

“Aren't the changelings the things you told me about. Those things from your dream?” Nick asked. I nodded.

“It’s real.”

Author's Notes:

So... This is my first fic ever. Yay!
Hope you enjoy
Comments appreciated, flames will be ignored, etc.

Yes, I do have a teacher named Doc Stock (Dr. Stockton) IRL.

Also, William will never go to Equestria, and Chrysalis will never go to Earth. I'll explain why later.

(Chapter edited slightly 12/21/2013)