One Can Always Dream

Life was nonexistent.

There was no life in the stones. The sand did not breath. The wind, though it may whisper sweetly as it passed by, had no soul, no spirit, nor were there any to hear its haunting cries.

No snakes slithered through the desert sand. No lizards sunbathed on the scattered stones. No tall prickly towers of vegetation one might expect stereotypically scattered in a desert wasteland. No hardy shrubs and grasses fought for what little moisture could be gathered by their roots. One could not even be sure whether there was any hidden water abound. There certainly weren't any wells dug, any signs of a robust, adaptive civilization.

No, life was nonexistent.

One, if one could be found in the first place, could argue that, metaphorically, the ash-black mountain that stood out of the sand like a towering fortress was very much alive. The ground shook violently as it rumbled. Streaks of yellow and red burned down the slopes. Ash and smoke spewed from the top, threatening to block out the sun. Not that there was anyone or anything around to miss that bright globe of light anyways.

Though hidden behind black smoggy clouds, the sun's heat was not lessened. Heat waves danced across the sand, creating images. One, if one could be found in the first place, might have seen a welcoming oasis in the distance, and would have wasted their energy pursuing those fake coconut palms. Or perhaps see a delicious feast, with apples and peaches, bananas and pineapples, baked potatoes, wine from freshly squeezed grapes, only to break one's teeth against a rock after taking a generous helping of honey-glazed ham.

Or perhaps one might see a cloaked upright figure. It was a tall figure, standing on two long trunks. Two similar appendages hung at its sides, attached below the figure's hooded head. Legs and arms.

In the sweltering heat, the figure seemed to shimmer, the only clue and reminder that this was just a mirage, a mere illusion. After all, life was nonex-

The shimmering had faded but the figure did not. Rather, as he approached the mountain he began to appear more and more solid, more tangible. More real.

A gust of wind knocked the hood back. The being, for now he was much more than a simple figure, raised a hand to shield his eyes. Two bright hazel brown ovals dotted with black points in the center narrowed as the sun shone down upon them from behind the volcanic smoke.

He ran his fingers through the mess of dirty white hair atop his head. He loosened the scarf around his mouth and nose and sighed. The mountain was still distances away, though he could feel its tremors run through the earth. He leaned against the gnarled staff in his hand, the bottom buried in sand. Silver runes ran down the staff that seemed to gleam in the sun.

More than being now. A man.

The young man removed a canteen from his belt and took a small sip. He considered the container for a moment, weighing it in his hand, before lifting his shoulders in a resigned shrug and lifting his head upward and tipping the canteen to his lips. A small bump in his patched throat bobbed as sweet water ran down it. With a satisfied sigh, he removed the canteen from his cracking lips. He considered reattaching the metal canister to his belt before shaking his head and punting it behind him instead. He would not be needing it and it was a cumbersome piece of equipment anyways.

He turned his head back to the mountain, which seemed to quake in anticipation for his arrival. With one step after the other, he walked forward.

And forward.

And forward.

And forward still. Hours may have passed but one could never be certain.

The man now stood at the base of the volcano. As if angered that such a small being dared approach it, the mountain rumbled. Loose rocks bounced about as the ground shook. The man struggled to keep his balance. His staff dug deeper into the sand.

A large cloud of ash burst forth from the mountain's peak. For a moment it lingered in the air, hiding the sun once more. The man stared at the cluster of ash. He would have expected the burnt dust to have drifted off and dissipate, either dispersed through the atmosphere or raining down upon the charred earth. The black cloud did neither, growing larger much to the man's surprise. Even the passing wind did nothing to the ash.

The sky grew even darker, almost creating an artificial night. Roars shook the man's ears, though he could not tell whether it was thunder or the rumble of the volcano. Another roar was released and he tilted his head up toward the source of the sound. He hadn't felt any tremors but he also hadn't seen any flashes of lightning that would hint of a storm.
Another roar, followed by a sudden torrent of wind. The man covered his eyes as sand, dust, and ash threatened to blind him. He winced as wind and debris cut into every bit of exposed flesh. His unprotected hands grew red and raw, as did his cheeks.

At last the wind died down. The man slowly opened his eyes. They immediately jumped wide open at the sight above.
The dark clouds disappeared. In their place was a giant grotesque monster. Its slithering body eclipsed the sun, continuing the illusion of a hellish evening. Horns sprung up from the beasts head, some curled up like goat horns, others simply sharp bony points. No two horns were uniform.

Four massive legs hung above. One was scaly, ending in a hand-like fashion, though each finger was accented with dangerous claws. Another was like that of an eagle or raptor, with massive talons. Still another was similar to the leg of a cow or a horse, ending with a hoof.

Behind the beast's snout were two sickly yellow eyes that spun uncontrollable. Several fangs larger than the man's entire arm peeked out of the monster's lips. The very corners of the beast's mouth were twisted up into a sadistic smirk. It opened it's mouth and released an earth-shaking growl, though for all the man knew it could have been a laugh.

It took the man several long seconds to find his voice. When he did, he muttered, "Cefuli the Demon, the Dark One."

"Discord," his echo said in the wind. "Of True Chaos."

The beast turned down to the young man. The imagined smirk grew and grew until the cruelty behind it could not be denied. Those insane eyes focused and zeroed on him. The man's breathing quickened as the monster screamed again, opening its mouth and charging toward him.

The man could feel the beast's hot breath. He could count those teeth that would reduce him to powder. He could see the darkness that served the back of the monster's throat, that would serve as his own oblivion.

Light flashed. Instinctively, he raised his hand and shielded his eyes. Judging by the pained roar that threatened to crush the man, it was apparent that the beast had not been as lucky. He opened his eyes.

Six orbs of brilliant light stood between the man and the beast. Each sphere was a different color: red, magenta, yellow, blue, green, and purple. The monster snarled as it clutched its eye. Black goo leaked from the empty socket. The purple orb drew closer. The beast flinched, as if struck.

"The Essences of Concord," the man breathed.

"The Elements of Harmony," his echo whispered back, carried by the wind.

The demon swung its claw at the purple light to extinguish it only to howl in pain as the red one charged forward, striking it back. The remaining four moved in.

Light filled the man's vision and nothing else. For a moment, he thought himself blind.

Slowly, shapes were forming. He could see the begins of a...a...a snout. Not like the one the beast had. No, this one was smaller, softer, more feminine. More...friendly.

Color came next. There was so much pink it was almost maddening. Lighter variants formed and congregated near the top while almost everything below was a very bright purple. Two small spots of greenish grey dotted amid the brighter hues.
The shapes were becoming more distinct. A body was formed, with four hoofed legs. The grey-green blobs became eyes.

The light pink became hair, both on top of a head and in the back as a tail.

A purple mare stood before the man. How odd...

She opened her mouth. Her voice was motherly, but stern.

"Well, Ash? We're waiting."

"Wasuh?"

Ash blinked his eyes opened. The purple mare was still there and she did not look happy.

Ash shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts and understand the situation.

Cheerilee. That was the mare's name. Teacher of the Ponyville schoolhouse. Educator to almost every foal in Ponyville. Oh, and him too, Ash grudgingly added.

Now why did she look so upset? Ash racked his brain, searching for an answer. Had he unintentionally insulted her? Had he intentional insulted her? The last thing he could remember was trying to keep his eyes open. He had been so tired he rested his head on his desk and-

Ash was suddenly aware of the giggles and snickers around him.

"Oh..." was all he could say as realization dawned. He must have fallen asleep in class. Ash gulped, turning red in embarrassment. If Twilight found out...

"Well?"

Cheerilee was waiting for a response, Ash realized. Quickly, he considered his options, hoping to at least stop himself from digging a deeper hole.

"I...really like your mane?"

Cheerilee was not impressed, though he received a tremendous response from the rest of the class. The short giggles and snorts grew into uncontainable raucous howls and shrieks. Fillies and colts stomped away in their seats and some pounded away on their desks.

The grin that slowly spread across Ash's face died away at the sight of Cheerilee's glare. Again, he gulped nervously.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Miss Cheerilee's frown deepened. Her eyes narrowed. Sweat dripped down Ash's brow but he made no attempt to clean it. He wasn't sure what would happen if he made any sudden movement; few wilderness guides covered the appropriate approach to handling angered pony teachers in their natural habitat. Ash made a mental note to himself to write a book on surviving public schooling, providing that he survived this encounter. Oh, and after learning how to write in Equestrian.

"My question was, and do try to pay attention this time..."

The laughter grew and Ash's imitation of a tomato was quite impressive.

"...was, and still is mind you, why is there a hairless ape monster sitting in my student's desk?"

Ash's blush was banished as the blood in his veins chilled, froze, solidified, and fell to his feet with what he assumed to be an audible thud.

"H-h-h-h-huh-is..."

"Hairless ape monster, yes."

Ash brought his hand to his face. Hand, not hoof. His fingers brushed across his face, against his nose, lips, cheek, skin. There was no fur, only the smooth skin of a Human. There was no snout of a horse, only the pitifully weak olfactory organ Humans had the gale to call a nose.

Yes, he was very Human.

Ash began to panic. How could this happen? Why hadn't either he or Twilight anticipated this? The spell had never done this before or even hinted and according to Twilight's observations, there was no sign of deterioration. His eyes shifted to the door, the windows, looking for an exit. That wall didn't look to solid. He could probably get through with a running start.

"Perhaps the more pressing question, however, is where are your pants?"

The Human froze, suddenly aware just how cold his rear felt against the tiny wooden chair he sat in. He didn't want to, fought against the urge with all his will, but no matter what he did, Ash could not stop himself from looking down.

Yep, no pants. No underwear either. Those socks looked awfully comfortable though.

Ash screamed.

Ash opened his eyes and lifted his head. Sweat fell like raindrops in a summer storm and he struggled to control his shaky breathing.

"Ash, are you alright?" Miss Cheerilee asked, looking away from the chalkboard behind her. There was no glare in her eyes, no enraged glint. She was frowning but out of concern.

Ash rubbed his hooves together. Wait, hooves? Hooves! His labored breathing slowed and he began to relax. "No ma'am," he said. "Er, was there a question?"

A haughty snort came behind the former Archmage apprentice. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That would Diamond Tiara, of course. She and her friend, Silver Fork(?), made it perfectly that they were not intimidated by his age and the lack of a symbol on his grey flank might as well have been a red and white target.

"I didn't ask a question." Cheerilee's grey-green eyes were narrowing, though not to the extent Ash had seen in his dream. "Though something tells me somepony hasn't been paying attention today."

More snickers and even a high-pitched giggle. The little pink brat and her bespectacled lackey were probably passing notes the whole time, using the slumbering body of their older classmate as cover. Once again, Ash reminded himself that straggling a child was probably just as looked down upon in Equestria as it was in his old world. Besides, he wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it without fingers.

Instead, Ash calmed himself down and apologized. "Sorry, Miss Cheerilee. I was helping Twilight Sparkle with a spell and well..." He yawned.

The teacher nodded her head. "I'm glad to hear that Twilight's back to normal but I can't accept an excuse like that. If you're really that tired you should have stayed home."

Ash nearly burst out laughing. Twilight was pretty clear on her stance on absences and the few days he had taken off to help the Unicorn with her condition were a few days too many in her opinion. He didn't even get the chance to explain just how much that short hour took out of him before Twilight all but kicked him out. Odds were, however, the spell took just as much energy out of her and she wasn't thinking straight. He couldn't completely blame her.

"Sorry."

Cheerilee's expression softened. "It's fine. You will be spending recess in here of course."

Most children would have groaned. Ash didn't mind. Three young fillies did however, and they made their complaints verbal.

"But Miss Cheerilee," said one young orange Pegasus with a short magenta mane. "You told us that young foals like us should always get our sleep."

One would not easily classify Ash as a young foal but Scootaloo wasn't one to sweat details.

"Yeah," piped in a cream-colored filly with a bright red bow in her red hair. "An' what's what that one pony said? Somethin' 'bout sleep makin' a pony healthy, wealthy, an' wise?"

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a pony healthy, wealthy, and wise was the quote Apple Bloom was searching for. She conveniently forgot the first part.

"My sister says a lady should always get her beauty sleep," added a young Unicorn. Her coat was white and her mane was light purple and in nice little curls. "She says a lack of proper sleep is a sure path to a grey mane."

And if Rarity said it was true, who was Sweetie Belle to argue? It didn't matter that Ash's mane was already white as snow from age.

Cheerilee shook her head and sighed, just as the bell rang for lunch. Students leaped out of their seats and beelined to the door.

"You are excused for lunch," the teacher said cheerfully, ignoring the fact that several of her students were already outside. She smiled at the three fillies who had grouped themselves together. "Sorry girls. Ash should know better than to sleep in class, though I'm sure he appreciates the effort."

Light snoring came from the grey stallion who sat with his face in the desk.

Cheerilee forced a smile. "You three go ahead and enjoy your lunch. I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for crusader preparation with Ash after school."

"Okay," the trio of fillies conceded, making their way outside and into the sun. Cheerilee continued to beam until the door finally shut behind Sweetie Belle.

Cheerilee turned to Ash and sighed. Alone at last.

A small mischievous grin broke across her face. As a teacher and a role model for several younger ponies, Cheerilee had to be careful with her indulgences. Cider was one thing but this? She shuddered at the possibility of being discovered. She could imagine the scandal that would soon ensue if one of her students wandered in during the middle of the act.

Still, a mare has her needs and now they were finally alone at last. This wasn't the sort of thing she would normally ask from one of her students. They were all still so young, so innocent. Cheerilee wasn't sure any of them were ready.

Ash on the other hoof was a full grown stallion and that put him in a very unique position. He could handle it. Cheerilee looked around the classroom. All the children were outside, eating and playing. She had no need to worry about getting caught. Still, this would have to be quick she told herself sadly. These foals were her responsibility and she was a responsible mare. But a mare does have her needs.

Cheerilee sauntered over to Ash's seat, looking over her shoulder every now and then. Her tail brushed against the trio of smiling flowers on her flank. Gently, she poked the grey Unicorn in the side. Ash did not stir. She tried again with a little more force. This time she was rewarded with a loud snore.

The teacher shook her head. He was completely out of it and in no condition to help. Her tail hung limply as she made her way back to her desk. She reached down from behind the desk and pulled out a brown paper bag. With a few shakes, a banana tumbled out.

Cheerilee glared at the yellow fruit, taunting her. The peel was all that stood between her and lunch and experience had taught her that it was indeed a worthy opponent. She wasn't sure how she was conned into purchasing such discriminatory fruits.

She glanced back at the sleeping Unicorn. His horn seemed to gleam in the sunbeams coming through the window. How useful it would have been. She sighed.

"Now what am I suppose to eat?"

Author's Notes:

And that's probably the closest I'll ever get to clop.

Welcome to the second installment of Ash's story. I feed on your comments. Feed me!

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