“Cpl. Thunderhead, report,” ordered Night Song.

The large thestral saluted his commanding officer. “Sir,” he said, “Song and Stargazer are back on their hooves and have resumed their usual patrol routes. The herbs provided by Ms. Zecora and Triage seem to be countering the effects of this place and we shouldn’t encounter too many more problems on that front.”

“And the supplies?”

At this, the corporal hesitated. “...Delayed, sir,” he said. “I’ve sent out one of the scouts to help guide them here but, well…”

“This place is hard to find,” finished Night Song. The officer nodded his head. “Carry on, Corporal.”

Thunderhead struck another salute with a firm “Sir!” and went back to his duties.

Night Song took this chance to look out at the small encampment. It had been a full week since his princess departed with the human and his herd. Following his diarch’s instructions, he established a forward base of operations at the mysterious portal. It was not as simple as it should have been. Something about this seemingly innocuous clearing had completely thrown everything for a loop; soldiers were struck with sudden bouts of nausea, to say nothing of the dark dreams they had all begun to have. Whenever one of them left the clearing to go on patrol or even to relieve themselves in the forest, it always took them an hour or more to find the clearing again.

The human’s strange alternate personality’s words echoed in the Captain’s memory. “If you want to find something that can’t be found, then you have to become lost to do so. Otherwise anyone could find it.”

Any further musings were suddenly interrupted by an ear-splitting scream from the nearby medical tent, followed by shouted orders.

“Where is that solvent?!” Night Song recognized Triage’s voice; the veteran field medic possessed a deep baritone.

The next pony that spoke had an exotic rhyming voice, deep but clearly feminine. “I will do this right, though it requires haste,” said the shaman. “If a mistake I make, his mind shall be paste!”

Night Song entered the tent. In the corner was a blue unicorn stallion with a dark chestnut mane thrashing on a medical gurney against several restraints. The stallion’s eye were wide and bloodshot, darting in every direction but unfocused. Triage was next to him, the brown unicorn’s front hooves pressed down on the patient’s barrel. Nearby, the zebra mare Zecora worked a mortar and pestle, furiously grinding some sort of concoction to help the poor stallion.

“Nurse, I need a sedative now!” shouted Triage, doing his best to try and hold the other unicorn down. An earth pony mare darted to a large carrier and withdrew a syringe. Triage took it in his magical grasp, removing the cap and expelling a tiny bit of the fluid within.

The unicorn on the gurney continued to thrash. “Mr. Seeker, I need you to hold still.”

The other unicorn’s eyes finally found focus, zeroing in on Triage. “Hold still?! No!!” he shouted as his escape attempts became more desperate. “We have to get out of here! They’re here! I’ve seen them, they’re coming and we can’t stop them.”

Night Song had had enough. “Triage, shut that madpony up now or I will do it for you!”

The doctor glared daggers at the Captain. “Then help me hold him still!”

Night Song strode forward and roughly grabbed the prone unicorn’s head, twisting it to the side and exposing his neck. Triage quickly stuck the syringe into a large artery and depressed the plunger.

“No!” cried Seeker. “Don’t make me sleep! I see them there! It’s where they live, in those hallways... The angles... Oh gods above, the... angles…”

The unicorn’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his movements ceased, save for a slow and even breathing.

"How many is that now, Triage?" asked Night Song.

"Afflicted or like Mr. Seeker?" replied the unicorn. "There haven't been any cases like this. Sure, we've had cases of mana fatigue in some of the other unicorns and several cases of night terrors among the other personnel, but nothing like this before." The doctor eyed Night Song with a studious look. "Have you felt anything yourself, sir?"

"No, Triage," replied the captain but the unicorn didn't look too convinced.

"Still, I think all of the officers should come see me soon. Just a precaution, mind you."

Zecora took this moment to bring over the stone bowl she had so furiously been grinding before. Using an ivory-handled brush, she applied a thick red paste over the unconscious unicorn's forehead. Seeker began to murmur something under his breath while sweat broke out around his temples.

"This salve shall his mind protect," said the shaman, setting down the brush. "It is under a malicious attack, I suspect.”

"But... attack from what?" asked the nurse naively.

"In my homeland, there are dark tales. Of monsters that feed on fearful wails. My mother's mother, who taught me my trade, told me those tales, so I would know to be afraid. Of those evil things that exist in the corners of our eyes, always out of sight and hidden in disguise. She refused to speak their name, for it would be an invitation. One that would bring down madness and devastation."

Triage narrowed a glare at the zebra. Had it not been under orders directly from Captain Night Song, he would have never have allowed some foreign mare anywhere near this camp. He knew his medicine, both mundane and magical, and he didn't need some herb-crunching primitive to fill his peers' and patients' ears with nonsense of "bad juju".

That is, until two nights ago.

They had all been sitting in the command tent: himself, Night Song, Sergeants Night Shade and Star Light, as well as Dr. Arcanus, head of the Canterlot University's College of Thaumaturgical Studies, his colleagues, and Professor Bound Volume, head archivist of the University Library’s Special Collections. He had been sent here on special orders from Celestia herself, though Night Song suspected that the reasoning behind those orders were not solely for the benefit of the mission. The only other pony in the tent was Clear Water, Arcanus' grad student and right-hoof mare. She had been working the film projector.

The grainy, black-and-white film had captured the day's events and the unnatural spectre that now seemed to be tormenting their dreams. There was no sound as the film began. The first thing to appear was a piece of parchment with the words "Portal Test 13" written in black ink. The parchment, which had been held up by somepony's magical grip, dropped away, revealing the small pond in the center of the glen. It had been surrounded by several spotlights, all focused on the water's surface.

The film jumped a few frames.

Truth Seeker suddenly appeared on the screen wearing a white lab coat, a medical mask, and a pair of round, tinted goggles.

"The purpose of the experiment," Arcanus had explained to the small group of officers and intellectuals, "was to try and activate the portal. Since it closed four days ago, all other attempts to reopen it have failed. Prof. Seeker theorized that whatever means Mr. Michaelides had used to open it were attributed to a direct application of some foreign magic that we had never encountered before.”

“I’ve written many articles on the human,” said High Tenure, a haughty professor of advanced thaumaturgy. “And I was there to perform several examination on him. The ape doesn’t have a spec of magic about him.”

“That,” said Arcanus, “or perhaps he has a form of magic that is undetectable to us.” He ignored the offended intellectual and returned to the rolling film. “Now, then, based on Captain Song's account of the original event, we believed that we could try a similar tactic using our own magic."

"How so?" Night Shade had asked.

"Previous attempts to open the portal had been based on constructing intricate spell matrixes, all of which failed or collapsed before casting. Seeker attempted to pour as much raw magic into the portal, without the use of a matrix."

"In other words," commented Triage, "applying acute, blunt-force trauma and attempting to smash open the doorway, correct?"

Arcanus puffed up his chest and was about to retort when the film jumped again.

The Seeker on the screen had approached the edge the pool. He had turned back to some off-screen presence, his face mask moving in silent conversation. At some unheard reply, the professor nodded his head and carefully dipped his right forehoof into the water. Though the film showed no color, it was able to catch the pale glow that surrounded the unicorn's horn as he gathered a pool of magical energy.

The spotlights surrounding the pond began to dim before brightening again. Again and again they slowly strobed, as if in tune to some unheard beat. The film began to skip again, sometimes several frames at a time. At places, the camera’s lenses began going in and out of focus.

Suddenly, they simply went out. The film only captured dark silhouettes, dimly highlighted by moonlight and the glow from Seeker's horn. And that was when the seen devolved into chaos.

All of the spotlights suddenly exploded, spewing trails of sparking projectiles that ignited the grass around them. Seeker had reared up on two legs, his spine bending backwards almost to the point of breaking, his front hooves gripped the sides of his head. Nopony present needed sound to tell that the poor unicorn was screaming at the top of his lungs. The magical energy that he had been concentrating in his horn suddenly released in a blinding flash.

The film stopped. When the picture came back, the camera had somehow ended up on its side. Through blades of grass, the small audience caught sight of several ponies, silhouetted by the light from the fires, rushing forward to help their colleague. The film went on only for a few more seconds until it stopped altogether.

After several moments of silence, Captain Night Song had asked, "What in Tartarus happened there, Arcanus?"

Arcanus grimmly crossed his forelegs. "Precisely? I cannot say. I can only postulate. It most most likely some sort of massive feedback effect, one that assaulted Prof. Seeker and caused him to prematurely and explosively release his magic. It may have also been interference of some sort or any number of other things."

“And what is his status now?”

“Still unconscious, Captain.”

The academics in the tent then began to debate the possible causes for the incident while the military ponies discussed options for new security procedures to ensure that an incident like this wouldn’t happen again. It wasn’t until a calm, professional voice had broken the chatter.

“Excuse me, gentlecolts,” said Clear Water, “but there is something else you should see.” The mare, a pale blue unicorn with white hair that was tied in a bun and a shining water droplet for a cutie mark, used her magic to douse the light on the film projector and light up a then-unused slide projector.

“I found this while I was developing the film, professor,” she had said, as she set up the device. “I began to examine the whole thing frame by frame, to try and find some detail that might help us explain what happened to Prof. Seeker.” Clear Water adjusted her thick-framed glasses and proceeded to start the slideshow.

The first frame to come up showed Prof. Seeker as he was dipping his hoof into the pool and had already charged his horn. From there it proceeded just as Clear Water described, a frame by frame breakdown of the film reel. There were a few frames that appeared out of focus as the spotlights in background began to flicker, then several more after they had gone out.

One in particular had caught the room’s attention. It was a single frame, one that shown everything in almost total darkness, save for the tops of the spotlights that were highlighted by the moon’s glow. There was something else there. A large shape, hidden in the darkness, but whose image spoke of an unearthly and terrible presence.

Captain Night Song and Dean Arcanus leaned forward, trying their hardest to discern the nature of the aberration.

“What is that?” asked Arcanus. “Some sort of… imperfection in the film?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” replied Clear Water, “until I took a closer look at the negative.”

The next slide caused the group to simultaneously gasp.

The negative slide, which showed a clearer outline of the strange presence, was mercifully lacking in any concrete detail. But what it did show, sent a chilling signal firing from the depths that cold and base mammalian part of everypony’s brains.

The thing was tall, winged, and horned. It seemed bipedal in nature and had two arms that ended in long fingered hands, both of which seemed to cradle the poor stallion’s head.

The reactions ranged from Arcanus’ gaping horror to Night Song’s restrained sense of discomfort.

“What in Tartarus...?”

“A monster!”

“Impossible! We would have seen it too!”

“By the Sisters, look at it!”

“What could it possibly be?”

The only ponies that showed no fear were Clear Water, (who had seen the shaded horror before while she had discovered its existence but still held a quiet sense of dread,) and Bound Volume. The aged, steel grey and silver-haired stallion only looked at the shadowy form, as though he were confirming something that he had already suspected.

“Enough!” commanded Night Song, his word cutting through the sea of voices like one of his blades. “There is more to this than we can properly ascertain at this point. For now, I want this footage contained and not a word of this is to be spoken to anypony outside this tent.”

As it had turned out, Captain Song’s orders were for naught. The next morning, three members of the camp had come forward to Triage’s tent, each requesting help with their sleep. Apparently all three had suffered night terrors that had prevented them from finding any peace. What had been disconcerting was that all three described a series of eerily similar patterns in their nightmares, each ending with a description of a fell creature that vaguely matched the aberration that appeared in slide.

What was truly worrying was that only one of the afflicted ponies had been present at the previous night’s meeting.

From there rumors had spread throughout the camp. Of something that stalked them out of the corners of their eyes, that waited in the shadows for them all to fall asleep.

That afternoon, Truth Seeker had awoken, screaming mad rants about the “eyeless thing” that stalked his mind.

Several more ponies were awoken in the middle of the night to their comrades waking screams.

This morning, the zebra shaman had appeared at the edge of the camp, offering aid to the afflicted. She had been summoned by Bound Volume, who had said that they would need her skills if they were to remain in the camp.

The zebra’s herb had worked, her teas easing several ponies into a peaceful slumber. And while Triage did seem to resent the mare’s presence among his patients, Night Song was glad to have her with them.

Hoofsteps to his right announced a new arrival. The thestral looked up and saw Clear Water approaching him. She did not look pleased.

“Captain, I must protest!” she exclaimed.

“I would first know what you are protesting again, Ms. Clear Water,” calmly replied Night Song.

“Prof. Bound Volume is ordering that all notes and records of our experiments here be destroyed! He says that it is a matter of national security, but that is a load of horse apples!”

Night Song narrowed his eyes. Why would that unicorn want to destroy such important data?

Night Song’s contemplations were interrupted, as the ground beneath him began to tremble. To his side, Clear Water gave a short but disparaging shriek, her violet eyes squinting tightly in pain.

“Ms. Clear Water?” called out Night Song. “Wha-?”

Similar cries of pain rang out throughout the camp, as almost every unicorn nearly toppled over in pain.

The air around them resonated, as the otherworldly sensation that hung over the glen like some sort of miasmal cloak intensified. Night Song saw several of his thestral brothers and sisters crouch, their wings flared and teeth bared in sort of reactionary and animalistic display, one that was to be a paltry attempt of intimidation to some heretofore unknown predator that menaced their well-being. It took great willpower for the captain to resist succumbing to that same urge, that fight-or-flight instinct that governed all creatures.

But he held on, his pride as an officer in Her Majesty’s Sentinels fighting back against the baser nature to flee whatever horror was about to unfold.

He looked at the portal and saw it.

The pool’s water had begun to rise from the surface, breaking apart into little droplets in some sort of horrid reversal of rainfall. The droplets began to move, forming a helix as they continued to rise into the air. Night Song stared into the the helix and for the briefest, most terrifying instant he saw it.

He would remember that twisted, toothy parody of a smile until the day he died.

The was a sudden and thunderous *BOOM!* and the pond shot upwards like a geyser, a spout of water that was far too much to be contained in a pool that small, which itself began to crumble as large chunks of earth around the edges were pulled into the torrent of water. The air around him roared with the pained shrieks of his fellow ponies, their cries of mercy and help and despair. He wasn’t entirely sure if his voice was among that horrible choir, but he didn’t care.

And then, just as suddenly as it happened, it was over. The water came crashing down, spilling over the edges of the pond, and forming a misting rain that covered the clearing.

The strange sensations of wrongness that had plagued this place lifted.

At his hooves, Clear Water, tearstained and shivering, shakily rose from the ground. She looked around with bleary eyes, as if she had woken from some fleeting dream.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” asked Night Song.

“I-” the mare began, before taking a few steadying breaths, “I’m okay now.” She stared at the portal and her eyes widened. “...gone,” she whispered.

“What?”

“It’s… it’s gone!” she shouted, her voice beginning to border on hysteria. “The portal, it’s been destroyed!”

Night Song’s eyes widened in turn. “If it’s gone, then how are they supposed to-”

Lero opened his eyes, the sun’s new light banishing all remnants of the night’s dreams away. How strange. All the things he could have possibly dreamt about, and his subconscious had opted for Night Song...

To his right, just outside the tent, he heard quiet conversation from his group’s woken members, while to his left, a cyan foreleg gently tightened around his chest and a raspily snoring mare tried to snuggle closer into the warmth of the shared space.

A part of him had almost forgotten what it was like to sleep next to Dash’s snoring, but after so long, he had sorely missed it.

Lero kissed the sleeping mare and did his best to extract himself from the pegasus’s grip. Still wearing the jeans he had fallen asleep in, Lero put on a pair of boots and a long-sleeved shirt, and exited the tent to face his third morning on the road.

Both Rarity and Princess Luna tended their small fire and boiled water for the group’s morning meal. The alicorn prodded the glowing embers and placed a pot of water on top, which would quickly come of a boil and prepare their dehydrated rations.

Off to the side, Lero saw a curious sight; Twilight and Lyra had gathered around a crudely cleaved tree stump upon which rested a single rock. Lyra was chewing on a single, long stalk of some sort of native plant, staring at Twilight with a judging gaze. Twilight, for all her outward appearance, was giving the poor pebble a glare that would have surely melted it into slag.

“Come on,” urged the scholarly mare, as sweat beaded her forehead, “move! Move, darn you!”

“You’re doing it again, Twilight,” said Lyra, her stern tone one of a martial artist sensei speaking to a struggling student. “I told you before: you must clear your mind.”

“I’m trying as hard as I can!”

The statement earned Twilight a quick bop on her head from Lyra’s stalk. “No. ‘Do’ or ‘do not’; there is no ‘try’.”

Again Twilight stared at the pebble and closed her eyes. Lero saw her horn began to glow as Twilight poured magic into it and-

“Ow!” The light suddenly faded and Twilight’s hooves came to her temples. The pebble remained motionless until Twilight brought one of her hooves down on the stump and caused the tiny rock to jump at the impact. “GRRR! This is impossible!”

“It is only impossible because you believe it to be,” said Lyra, her tone betrayed by a slight smirk at the corner of her mouth. “You’re still trying to form a spell matrix and that will not work now anymore than any of your previous attempts.”

“But I can’t just ‘not form’ one! It’s what our magic is built on!”

“The first unicorns had no such concepts. They performed their magic by instinct.”

“But they were subconsciously forming them, even if they didn’t know what they were. Just because they didn’t know about it, doesn’t mean the matrixes weren’t there.”

“But they exercised their will and made it reality. You must do the same here.”

Twilight shook her head. “I can’t just unlearn fifteen years of magical theory!”

Lyra closed her eyes and resumed chewing her stalk. “Then you already admit defeat before the battle begins.”

“Urgh! Could you just for once, Lyra, just once drop the whole ‘grandmaster mystique’ and give me a bucking straight answer?!”

“Okay, ladies, let’s simmer down,” said Lero, who gently interceded between the two mares. The girls quietly backed away from each, their eyes fixed on Lero’s taller form. Lero took a seat behind Twilight and wrapped his arms around her. Twilight pouted but leaned back into him anyways.

“Remember what the Lost said before,” said the human. “This place is all about will. You’re not forming a levitation spell, you’re willing the rock to move.”

“But how-?”

“The very first time you ever performed magic, did you worry about any kind of matrix?” Lyra asked.

Twilight furrowed her brow. “I don’t remember,” she said. “I was only a few months old at the time.”

“Oh?”

“Mom, er, that is,Twilight Velvet, said that I was trying to take back a toy, some stuffed animal that Shining had taken out of my crib. I grabbed it with my magic and brought it back to me.”

“And what do you think was going through your mind at that point?”

Again Twilight furrowed her brows. “Not much. I was only three months old. All you ever think about at that point is sleeping, feeding and pooping.” Twilight paused. “I just… wanted my toy back.”

Lyra and Lero shared a smirk. “Then try and remember that feeling,” the other unicorn advised.

Twilight focused again on the pebble. This time, she tried to recall what it felt like to be a foal again. Her herd family had always told her that she was special, a fact that had gone to her head during her teenage years under Celestia, when she thought that magic was more important than making friends, when the pursuit of knowledge had become paramount for her.

In those earliest days, her herd parents had recognized her as a savant almost immediately; she had developed her telekinesis before she could fully walk, had learned to speak at only six months old, was reading at an elementary level by two, and by the age of four she was already performing basic magic most foals didn’t learn naturally until puberty.

Twilight did remember what it was like. That childish wonder that everything around her inspired. How the world seemed scary outside her family’s mansion but still full of so many incredible things. She remembered what it was like to move things just by thinking it. It drove poor Velvet up the walls, having to always hide things like sweets and such because Twilight would always simply grab a hold of them with her magical grip, no matter how high on the shelf it was placed.

Then one day, shortly after having seen Princess Celestia raise the sun on that fateful summer morning, Twilight had been in her family library and had found a book on spellcraft. She had learned why she had been able to do the things she could do. And just like that, magic wasn’t so “magical” anymore. It had become science.

To most other beings, such a revelation may have been crushing. Among humans, it would have been the equivalent of finding out that there was no Easter Bunny or Santa Claus and that it was the parents all along.

But not for Twilight. Opening that spellbook had opened her eyes to a whole new universe of possibility. It had awakened in her a desire - no, a hunger - for more knowledge, a craving for understanding the world and how it really worked.

And ever after that day, Twilight didn’t see it as “simply wanting to move something”. It was all spell matrixes, applied thaumaturgy, mana channeling, and everything else that made magic work. She saw the world as an intricate piece of clockwork, with a myriad of complex moving mechanisms whose functions interacted with each other in a way that didn’t diminish the majesty of life but enhanced it.

And it was so much a part of her, that she refused to see the world in any other way.

And so the rock remained motionless.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last. “I… just can’t.”

Lyra sighed but still held onto that queer smile of hers. “Come on, Twi,” she said, standing up and discarding the stalk. “Let’s grab some breakfast.”

Meanwhile, Rarity and Luna were having their own discussion.

“Dear me,” said Rarity, as she took a hollowed reed and blew through it to coax more life out of the glowing embers, “I haven’t done this in quite a while.”

“‘Roughing it’, as one would say?” asked Luna, who stirred the small pot with their morning’s meal.

“Indeed, Pri- Luna. I confess my father never took me out on such adventures. He was always very busy in Cloudsdale. Even on his off days, he rarely went down to the surface. It was only after moving to Ponyville and becoming friends with Pinkie Pie did I ever get to go camping.” Rarity took a moment to examine her surroundings. “Though I must say, this place is vastly different from Whitetail Woods.”

The group’s little camp was set dead center in a freshly cut swathe of destruction. Ever since the Garganstone had emerged from the hill three days ago (and taking the portal with it), the group had decided to follow the stone giant’s trail through the red-leaved forest. They thanked their lucky stars that creature had headed in a roughly similar direction as the city lights Lero had spotted that first night. Luna truly dreaded the prospect of having to blaze a trail through those thorny woods.

She remembered The Lost’s warning about the thorns.

The giant had long since disappeared, its ridiculously long stride and unrelenting determination to reach its unknown destination having quickly outpaced the tiny troupe. But it left behind a trail of snapped trees and crushed vegetation that, while somewhat difficult to navigate, was indeed “safe” to travel on, at least as far as the Lost had been concerned. And those lights were still visible every evening: lights which Lero insisted belonged to a town of some sort.

Over the next few days, Lero’s alternate personality had taken the reigns of control more and more. The Lost was there for most of the waking hours, during the long marches between campsites and during watch shifts at night. He was always quick to respond to potential dangers that seemed to always lurk at the edge of the trail. Thankfully, not everything he did was so serious or bleak. On several occasions, he was able to point out the otherworldly beauty that surrounded them.

In particular were the strange plants that they came across, either underfoot or just at the edge of their path. Most of them were an odd collection of stalks, leaves and fruits that the Lost had called “goblin fruits”. Twilight seemed especially fascinated with them and had been quick to examine every sample that the Lost picked up. The small camera that she’d brought with her from home had snapped many pictures of the local flora, aided by a makeshift harness Lero had cobbled together out of some rope, branches, and magic from Lyra.

Twilight had even dedicated one of her blank journals to studying them and preserving a few plant samples as pressings.

“This is amazing,” Twilight had said on their second day. “A whole new ecosystem! I wonder what exciting new knowledge we could learn from this place?”

Under different circumstances, Lero and the others might’ve rolled their eyes or even treated her to some mild teasing, and called her a nerdy tree hugger. But in the wake of Twilight’s discovery that she could no longer perform magic in the Hedge, in the wake of having suffered the unicorn equivalent of a human having both his hands paralyzed, they offered nothing but positive encouragements. Twilight distracting herself from her handicap was just what the doctor ordered.

And The Lost offered a lot for her to be distracted by! He regularly picked a variety of fruits, from tiny berries to flavorful leaves to a fruits the size of small gourds. One such example was currently roasting over the fire.

“My, er, ‘good sir’,” said Rarity uneasily, seeing that it was the Lost, not Lero, walking towards the fire pit, his blue eyes glowing slightly in the morning light. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

The Lost hesitated for moment before nodding his head and smiling politely and said, “Thank you, Ms. Rarity.”

Breakfast in question was another batch of dehydrated food for the girls and a single fruit for the Lost. One of the first things the Lost insisted upon, once he’d secured his companions’ trust, was that his pony companions were forbidden to consume any foodstuffs native to this world. Be it flower, fruit, vegetable, or grass, it was off-limits until they’d eaten through every last scrap of rations from Equestria, and they had no other choice but to eat the local fare. He would even glare suspiciously at fresh water they collected from streams and pools.

“But why?” Rainbow had asked. “I mean, is the food here poisonous to ponies? Would it taste bad?”

“No,” the Lost had said. “On the contrary. I have no doubt that there are some fruits here that you girls would simply find divine. There are teas you can make from certain leaves that can soothe every ache in your body. Some are magical and can grant you incredible luck, while others are so unbelievably nutritious and filling, a single nibble is enough to feed you for an entire day.”

“Then may we not partake?” Luna had asked.

“To do so could ensnare you, like the pomegranate seeds did for Persephone.” At this, Rarity had gasped.

A few weeks ago when they were still in Equestria, Lero had regaled his herd with several of old stories from his childhood. Being the grandchild of a pair of Greek immigrants (who were just a little disappointed their own son had married an American woman, but that is another story), Lero was raised on legends of Zeus, Poseidon and all the rest of the old gods who reigned over the world from Olympus, of great heroes such as Perseus and Theseus and Hercules performing legendary deeds, and of the many monsters that roamed the lands.

Twilight, being the academic, had immediately demanded to know every detail about the old monsters and was amazed at how much of a parallel the legends were to Equis’ own wildlife and peoples. She hadn’t known what to think when Lero described the Minotaur of Crete as a monstrous, man-eating beast, when the minotaurs she knew existed as a republic of good-hearted, if slightly boisterous, civilized beings. But Lero had explained that the legend was more of an analogy; one that gave a face to the animalistic side of mankind.

Rarity, however, had been fascinated with the more romantic tales of Greek mythology. The story of Pygmalion and Galatea had had her laughing merrily at the end. Even the more tragic tales, such as that of Alcyone and Ceyx, still held appeal for her. Lero had retold these stories with a bit a dramatic flair, something Lyra had known he had picked up from spending so much time living with Rarity. By the time he had finished telling the story of Orpheus -- a singer who went down to the Underworld to retrieve his lost love -- all the girls had been in tears.

Of course, Rainbow Dash and Princess Luna hadn’t been present when he’d shared his grandparents’ stories to Lyra, Rarity, and Twilight, so Persephone’s name meant nothing to them. So Lero had sat down and filled them in.

Persephone was a beautiful young goddess, daughter of Demeter, who was the Goddess of the Harvest. Persephone caught the eye of Hades, the Lord of the Dead, who ruled the dark and dreary Underworld. One day, while she was alone in a field, Hades rushed past in his black chariot and kidnapped her, taking her to the Underworld to become his bride. Though Persephone was never mistreated -- indeed, she was lavished in gifts and spent her days in the death god’s immense palace -- she longed to return home to the surface and to her aggrieved mother, who had let the world grew cold in a long winter. While Persephone stayed with Hades, she ate some of the fruit that grew in his palace garden.

Thereafter, Persephone found herself eternally bound to Hades’ realm. For half of every year, Persephone was forced to return to the Underworld, during which time her mother let the world grow as cold as her longing heart.

“Except in our case, girls,” Lero had finished, with a pointed look at the mares. “We wouldn’t have the same luxury Persephone had, and be allowed to return to Equestria every half-year. A single morsel of food might bind you to the Hedge-lands for all time.”

Rainbow Dash had given a gulp. “B-b-but, well, YOU ate the food, here, back when this place was your home. Right, Lero?”

“Right,” said Lero.

“But the food didn’t bind you!” Dash pointed out. “You were able to escape this place and go to Equestria!”

“Yes,” Lero conceded. “But remember; I said the food COULD ensnare you. Not that it was GUARANTEED to. It can be a crapshoot. Or sometimes it just… depends on the person. Kind of like with nuts.”

“Nuts?” asked Twilight.

“Some people can eat nuts like popcorn; others get lethal allergic reactions from them.” His expression turned darker. “But I give you my word: I have seen humans unable to leave the Hedge thanks to ‘Persephone’s curse,’ and it’s a sad sight. I have no idea if the food here will affect ponies in that way, so I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

The girls agreed. Since Lero was clearly immune to ensnarement, he fed himself on goblin fruit, and gladly gave all his share of the rations over to the girls. If only to prolong the time until they too would have to live off the land.

This morning’s meal for the Lost was a bright red fruit, slightly bigger than a typical Red Delicious, yet shaped like a peach. It was currently roasting on a stick over the coals, causing dark red juices to bubble out of it. The Lost inhaled deeply, savoring that unmistakable scent.

‘I hate to admit it,’ he mused to himself, ‘I have missed that smell.’

“What is that?” asked Twilight, who wrinkled her nose at the strange smell. “Bleagh! It’s almost as bad as Lyra’s durians!”

Lyra held back an incredulous remark, as the red fruit’s smell was also unpleasant to her.

“Well,” said the Lost, who suddenly realized that this particular choice may not go over well with his companions, “it’s a, well it’s called a… blood pod.”

“...Why?”

Seeing no use in delaying the inevitable, the Lost picked up his impromptu spigot, and took a large bite out to the roasted fruit. Hot, red, meaty juices ran down his cheeks as he savored the paradoxical taste of grade A Angus beef. It had been so long since he had tasted it, he couldn’t help but give a small moan.

At the mixed looks of disgust, queasiness, and horror his family was giving him, the Lost simply shrugged, thought to himself ‘Totally worth it,’ and went back to enjoying his bloody breakfast.

The next day found the group walking along a canopied path through the forest. The Garganstone’s trail had turned away from their destination, forcing the group to backtrack and lose almost half a day’s worth of traveling. Eventually, they stumbled upon a small pathway just wide enough to allow three ponies to walk side-by-side. Seeing little option, the group elected to follow the Lost into the forest, trusting in his abilities and his promise to keep them all safe.

They broke camp there in that new wood, under a canopy of star-shaped green leaves and hanging moss, huddled close together in their bags. Every one of the mares’ ears swiveled in their sleep, the slightest sounds would cause them to wake in the dead of the night, in fear of another attack. And always there was nothing. Just the moaning of the trees and the rustle of their leaves.

Dawn broke and the girls awoke to a shocked gasp.

Lero had started to change again. Now, after almost a week of traveling in the Hedge, he was showing further signs of metamorphosis. His skin had turned paler than usual, his tanned tones almost completely disappearing. His facial features had also changed, his jawline and nose becoming sharper, his eyes were seemingly slightly off. Most pronounced though, were Lero’s ears, which had suddenly developed a sharp point at the top.

‘More of this?!’ he thought, as a thunderstruck Twilight Sparkle lifted her camera and snapped a picture of him. ‘Just what the hell am I turning into?!’

The rest of the morning was spent in silence, as the girls quietly ate a few ration bars while Lero decided to forgo his morning meal entirely. Luna, however, seemed to be having none of it.

“Sir Lero, you must eat,” the alicorn insisted.

“It’s… it’s fine, Princess Luna,” he mumbled.

“Nay!” said Luna crossly. “I shall not see my friend in such a state! We have a long journey ahead and you need the energy.” Luna then took her own ration bar and snapped it in half with her magic, shoving one portion into Lero’s chest. The human fumbled with it for a second before catching it against his worn shirt.

“You shall stop acting like a moping colt this instant and eat something or I shall force that food down your throat myself!”

Rarity was about to say something in Lero’s defense when she suddenly stopped at the sound of her stallion’s laughter. Lero had leaned back against a tree, one hand over his eyes as he laughed uproariously. “Haha! Okay,” he finally managed. “Okay, Luna. I’ll eat something.” The human looked at her, his eyes speaking his silent thanks as he took a bite of the nutritious treat.

Luna allowed herself a firm nod and a knowing smile. Rarity glanced at the rest of her herd and shared with them her own knowing smile. But before she could share her scheming thoughts, they were all interrupted.

A sudden high-pitched shriek pierced the morning stillness, followed by several more shrill calls. Lero’s eyes shifted to a pale blue and the Lost stood at attention, the ration bar falling forgotten to the ground.

“Ah hell,” he growled before turning to the others. “Quickly! Get packed and ready to run.”

“What is it?” said Luna, who had drawn her wing blades at the Lost’s reaction.

“Nothing good. Now move!”

The camp became a flurry of motion. The fire was quickly extinguished as saddlebags were flung onto backs. The shrieks were drawing closer, followed by the sounds of wings. The Lost had just thrown on his backpack when another sound halted his movements.

It was a scream. A woman’s scream.

The other girls halted too. Rarity and Rainbow looked slightly panicked, memories of the white blob still fresh in their minds. But as the Lost listened again he could hear… shouting?

“Takes it!” came a distant, shrill voice. “Takes it!”

“...away!” came another, softer and definitely feminine.

The Lost turned down the path. “Stay close,” he said and started to move down the trail, low but quickly. Twilight barely gave a sputtered response before she felt a shove from behind by Luna and soon they were all mimicking the Lost.

The sounds of screams and wings grew louder as they hurried, and they soon found the source. There, in a clearing in the trees, was an ambush.

Above them, flapping on black and white wings, were three creatures. They were hideous, a strange mismatch of human and avian parts. One had the head of a sharp-beaked bird, the torso of a man with human arms but wings sprouting from its back, and a feathered lower body that terminated in scaley, taloned legs. Another was mostly bird, but sported a mockery of a human face; its eyes too large, its nose was comically pointed, and the teeth in its too-wide mouth were like a shark’s.

Also, a foul odor was assaulting their nostrils, even from this distance. The winged monsters were absolutely covered in filth; their feathers and skin were stained in putrid browns and greens. The feathers were molting in some places and the skin had lesions in several spots.

The last member of this flock was already diving downward like the bird of prey it was, squawking and shrieking from a curved beak while slashing with long talons on lanky arms.

“C’mere, you fuckin’ tart!” it squawked again. “Gives us yer shinies ‘n we’ll maybe let yez walk away with yer littl’ twat in one piece!”

“Moibye, hur hur hur,” mouthed the shark-toothed monster.

The Lost sneered in disgust. “Fucking Vileshrieks,” he cursed, trying not to gag on the creatures’ foul odor. “I hate these guys.”

“A name well deserved,” said Luna from behind one of her wings.

Lyra suddenly pointed at the center of the clearing. “Look!”

The Lost followed her hoof. But he refused to believe his eyes.

It was a woman. A real woman. She was tall and athletic, with tanned skin and pale hair that peeked out from under her hooded cowl. Her upper body was covered in a grey-green pelt cloak that hooded her head. A dark red high-low skirt around her waist exposed a leg which appeared to be bleeding. One hand clutched at the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, while the other held tightly onto a large and knotted staff.

One of the other vileshrieks made a pass at her and raked its sharp talons at the woman’s head. She ducked but ended up falling to the ground in her attempt, the hood falling back.

The ponies’ eyes widened. The woman had a pair of curled horns, like a ram’s, growing just above her ears. The ends of her raven-black hair were tipped with shining silver. Her eyes were a glowing amber. But above all else, past the horns and the odd coloration, she was very beautiful.

Lero emerged from his own subconscious, but was stunned into silence. ‘She’s...’

Another one of the creatures made a pass and the woman lashed out with her staff. She snarled at the monsters, revealing a small set of fangs in her mouth. “Piss off!” she shouted. “I don’t have time to deal with you freaks!”

“Oi oi, lookie ‘ere, boyz!” mocked the sharp-beaked monster. “Quite a litt’ mouth on this humie.”

One of the others chuckled darkly, a long, slimy tongue licking at his beak. “I fink I know ‘ow to put that mouth o’ers to betta work.” He lashed out with one of his talons and caught the woman’s staff, trying to wrench it away from her grasp while his two partners egged him on, tossing out more foul taunts.

Lero seethed in his hiding spot. Internally, he was struggling. That woman could be one of Them, but there was also a chance that she wasn’t. What had that thing called her? ‘Humie?’ As in ‘human’? Behind him, he could hear the girls whisper fervently.

“What should we do?” said Twilight. “She needs help!”

“It could be another trick,” worried Rainbow Dash. “What if she’s bait and this is some kind of trap?”

“But look at her!” hissed Rarity. “Those… vile brutes clearly intend to ravish her! We can’t just stand by and do nothing. She looks human!”

“So did that other thing, Rarity, and it… it…” Rainbow suddenly broke out in shivers.

Lyra looked at Lero. “Hey, Fingers… I think I remember you saying humans didn’t have horns… right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Lero then touched the tips of his ears. “But I also said they don’t have pointed ears.”

Lyra looked back the scene in the clearing. The vileshrieks had finally wrestled away the woman’s staff and his partners were making more dives at her. They were obviously toying with her, as cats would with a mouse.

Finally, the ringleader said, “Come on, boyz! Meat’s back onna table!” The sharp-beaked creature dropped down on top of the woman, his arms grabbing her wrists while his talons ripped at her skirt.

The woman screamed and before Lero knew what he was doing, his iron knife was already leaving his hand. The knife hissed through the air before embedding itself into one of sharp-beak’s eyes with a meaty “THWACK!” The vileshriek’s head snapped back, he teetered for a moment, then fell twitching to the side.

The woman wasted no time and scrambled out from under the monster, making her way to the edge of the clearing. The other monsters gaped at the sight of their dead comrade before turning towards the source of the attack.

The Lost was standing up, his arm still pointing forward from the knife throw and a look of surprise clear on his face. “Ah crap,” he muttered, realizing he had just thrown away his only effective weapon.

“OI!” shouted the leader, pointing at the standing human. “That littl’ shite just knoifed ‘im! GUT ’EM!!”

The Lost then dove back into cover just as the two remaining vileshrieks took flight, cursing and squawking on his heels. He turned and ran back down the path, hoping to lead the monsters away from the rest of the girls. The two flying monstrosities made it only around the first bend from the clearing when a dark blur passed in front of them. Shark-tooth managed a surprised gargle as his head suddenly found itself free on his body. Curve-beak turned to look but soon found his head wasn’t able to stop turning at it was twisted around in a full circle by a pale blue aura.

The two bodies crashed into the forest floor, the head continuing to roll a short distance before disappearing into a hollow beneath a tree.

Luna gently set down in front of the Lost, her face barely containing a sense of disgust as she examined her ichor-covered blades. She flicked her bades until she was convinced that the foul substance was gone and then folded her wings.

“Thanks for the save,” said the Lost.

“Thank me later, Sir Lost,” replied Luna. “For now, let go and greet the one whom we rescued.” The Lost nodded and the two walked back the way they came.

Meanwhile, back in the clearing, the four mares remained hidden as they watched the horned woman struggling to get to her feet.

Rainbow leaned up against Rarity. “I… don’t think this is a trap,” she whispered. The other mare nodded. From their hiding spot, the girls watched the woman try to rise again, only to quickly fall down and give a pained yelp. Bright red blood oozed out of the jagged gash on her left leg.

Rainbow’s reaction was instantaneous. “Oh man,” she exclaimed, quickly breaking cover and moving closer to the woman. “Don’t move! I’ll-”

The woman snapped her hand out and a rock sped straight at Dash’s head. “Woah!” The pegasus dropped several feet, allowing the projectile to sail harmless overhead. “Hey! What was that for? I’m just trying-”

“Stay back!” the woman yelled. “You stay the hell away from me!”

“Look, lady, I’m trying to help you! You need to-”

The woman reached behind her and pulled out a long, curved knife. “I said stay the fuck back!” She pointed the weapon at Dash, the sunlight gleaming off the bronze blade even as it shook in the woman’s trembling hand.

Rainbow dropped to the ground. She knew that injured animals would almost always lash out at any perceived danger, so she tried a gentler approach. Dash folded her wings to her sides and made sure not to approach too quickly.

“Easy there,” she said quietly in her gentlest voice. “You’re safe now. Nopony’s going to hurt you.”

“‘Nopony’?” the woman repeated, clearly confused. She wavered a moment before pointing the blade back at Rainbow. “I said stay back!”

“Okay,” said Rainbow, who sat on the ground. “I’ll stay right here, but I just want to help you.” Rainbow eyed the wound worriedly. It was a nasty cut, ragged but not too deep. But judging from the foulness of those monsters, the wound would definitely need disinfecting and quick.

“Look,” said the pegasus, “I know you’ve been through a lot and you’re really scared right now, but you need to treat that wound. I have some first aid with me. I can help.”

The woman laughed bitterly. “Yeah, like I’m going to trust you, a talking horse.” She spat towards Rainbow. “You’re a phouka, aren’t you?”

Dash raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

The horned woman ignored the question. “Taking the shape of some… cutesy-looking horse! Well, you can’t fool me!”

Rainbow fluffed her wings slightly. “Look, uh, ‘Miss’. I’m not a… whatever that is. My name is Rainbow Dash and I’m a pony. We saw you get hurt-”

“‘We’?” Suddenly those amber eyes were darting around the treeline as Dash silently cursed her slip.

“My friends,” she said, her voice still calm. “We saw you were getting hurt by those mean things and now we just want help.”

Rainbow turned back to their hiding place and raised one of her wings. Slowly, three heads poked out from the bushes as Twilight, Lyra, and Rarity all slow emerged, giving the girl encouraging smiles.

“Are those… unicorns?” asked the woman, warily.

“Yep! Those are my friends and we just want to help you.” The other girls nodded their heads, Lyra offering a friendly wave, as the woman tried to process what she was seeing.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps broke her thoughts and another being entered the clearing.

The woman’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “No,” she whispered and the bronze blade dropped from her trembling hand. “No no no no…” Whatever progress Rainbow had made, Lero’s presence had instantly unravelled. The woman began to crawl backwards, her hands desperately trying to find purchase on the muddy ground in an effort to escape the terror in front of her.

“No, please no!” she screamed, frightened tears running from her amber eyes. “Stay away! Don’t take me, please!”

She turned around tried to rise again but quickly stopped when she saw the tall form of Princess Luna hovering just in front of her. The woman screamed in terror, her shrill voice piercing through the air as she emptied her lungs. She then fell back to the ground before quickly curling up into a quivering ball, her arms covering her head. “Please don’t take me back,” she sobbed. “Please don’t take me, please, please, please…”

Luna quickly dropped to the ground, her wings clasped to her side. Her heart felt like it had been stabbed with a cold knife. After spending so much time trying to get her subjects to stop fearing her, to have this poor creature treat her as an object of terror hit too close to home. A quick glance at Lero told her that he felt the same way.

Lero didn’t really know how to approach this. Sure, he had been feared before, at least by ponies, but certainly not like this. So he decided that he would do what he would normally do for a nervous pony: look less intimidating.

Lero approached the girl, getting a better look at her. Caked in spattered mud and underneath the soft leather of her cloak, Lero could spot several trinkets adorning the woman’s waist and neckline. Little bobbles made of wood, bone, glass, and metal; these must have been the “shinies” the vileshrieks had been talking about.

Lero turned his attention back to the woman herself. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties. Like himself, her ears were slightly pointed, with one pierced by three golden rings. The two horns growing from the sides of her head were a deep brown color, one holding a dangling piece of jewelry. Her hair, now dirty with mud and tears, held several more trinkets; red beads and white metal rings held in place with several braids. Lero unconsciously touched his own braid that held two pale blue feathers. The sobbing woman’s hands were smaller than his and smooth, her fingers ending in pointed, black nails.

Satisfied with his examination, Lero quietly knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The woman flinched but Lero did not removed his hand, instead allowed his warm palm rest against her. Her skin felt hot, and Lero cast another worried look at the wound on her leg.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lero spoke, “We’re sorry.” The woman flinched again. “We didn’t mean to frighten you.”

The woman opened her eyes, her pupils shrunken to pinpoints as she glanced fearfully up at him. The fear was still there and it seemed fairly justified. Lero knew what he looked like now wasn’t exactly human, but then again neither was she. Lero looked at his companions, letting the woman follow his motions.

“We promise not to hurt you,” he said, offering her a smile. Still trembling, the woman glanced around, seeing more gentle and goodnatured expressions on the strange creatures around her. Even on the large, dark alicorn.

“Y-y-you’re,” she stammered, “you p-p-promise me?”

Lero nodded, “We promise. We want to help you.”

The woman allowed herself to be gently propped upright but still brought her knees to her chest. She gazed around, her amber eyes trying to comprehend what was happening. “You’re n-n-not aes sidhe?” she whispered.

Lero shook his head, as did the others.

Luna bowed her head. “I must apologize, young miss,” she said respectfully. “It was very much not my intention to frighten you.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow bashfully. “We’re really sorry.”

“Oh you poor dear,” said Rarity, “I’m afraid we gave you such a fright. But when we saw what those vile brutes were going to do-”

“You saved me?” said the woman in disbelief. She turned towards the nearest dead vileshriek, the iron dagger still sticking out of its eye socket, then back to the group. She followed the mares’ knowing eyes and rested her tear-filled gaze on Lero. She hesitated, then reached up with a trembling hand. Lero held still as he allowed her to touch his cheek.

The fear in her eyes seemed to slowly drain away, replaced by something that she had almost forgotten.

Hope.

“Are… are you like me?” she whispered, more to herself than to her audience. “Are you Changed too?”

Lero gave her a small smile and gently nodded his head.

“Them too?” She motioned to the ponies around them.

Lero glanced to his side, his smile never wavering. “It’s… a long story.” He held out a hand. “My name is Lero Michaelides.”

“...Kyria,” she said, taking his hand in her soft, smaller one. “Kyria Ama.”

Lero smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyria,” he said.

The small fire pit warmed the cozy home as the six guests gathered around, sipping some chamomile tea Rarity had brought from home, and discussing their origins. While many might’ve dismissed Kyria’s abode as just a hole in the ground, the young woman still seemed to have turned her “Hollow” into a workable home.

The entire structure was underground, with bare earthen walls and ladder that lead to a camouflaged entrance. The single room was small but not cramped, being a little bigger than the living room in Lero’s old house. A small fire pit in the middle had an ancient-looking brass stove pipe that led to the surface, one that Kyria said was able to hide the smoke it produced.

One wall was dedicated to a menagerie of odd trinkets and tokens, all looking like the world’s strangest collection of baubles the girls had ever seen. Light was provided by a number of glowing luminescent jars, very reminiscent of the lightning bug lamps from Equestria. Several large roots grew along the ceiling, most sporting a suspended glowing lamp or another dangling trinket.

Overall, it definitely wouldn’t win any awards for style. All of the furniture was wooden and very run-down. A nearby low table was supported in one corner by a small stack of books. The earth walls, while at least dry, were pockmarked and had several holes in them. Kyria’s bed was little more than a dried hay mattress with a threadbare blanket on top. The “teacups” were nothing of the sort; just a small collection of cracked ceramics and dented tin cups.

None of the group had ever seen anything like it. Certainly, cities like Manehatten and Fillydelphia had their share of poor neighborhoods, but even they had been aboveground. Lero was put strongly in mind of the National Geographic programs he used to watch, whenever they would do a cultural segment on some remote Third World country.

‘And she’s been living here on her own for how long?’ he thought to himself, staring into his cup of tea.

If Kyria was uncomfortable living here, she hid it well. But then again, that may have been do to her overwhelming confusion at the moment.

“So, wait,” the horned woman said, amber eyes narrow in disbelief, “you and your sister… control the sun and moon?” Then Kyria turned to Rarity. “And you help manage the seasons?”

“Oh yes, darling,” said Rarity with a winning smile, “and let me tell you, scheduling the entire weather cycle for a whole season, even for a little town like Ponyville, is a simply beastly affair. Why, this past spring took me nearly a month to get approved by the central bureau!”

Kyria’s mouth simply hung open and her eyes remained narrow, as if she was unsure if the white mare in front of her was lying or simply delusional.

Convincing the woman that no, the mares were not in fact transformed humans like herself, that no, they weren’t some kind of hob made to look like pastel-colored ponies, and yes, they were in fact from another world entirely, took some time.

And several more promises that they weren’t going to hurt her.

And that Kyria had to put her knife away.

This became especially difficult when the Lost emerged in front of Kyria. But after several very detailed and lengthy explanations of the Lost and how he came to be, Kyria warily decided to trust him.

“I know he seems a little… uncouth, darling,” Rarity had assured the girl, “but trust me when I say that the good sir has more than proved his good intentions. He saved us all at the start of our little adventure and has helped us many times to stay safe in these dreadful woods.”

Kyria Ama only narrowed her eyes and continued to finger the dagger in her belt.

Lero tried to take stock of the situation. Rarity and Luna were currently explaining more about their homeworld, though every new fact seemed to make Kyria more and more skeptical. Lero had to laugh at himself, having gone through the exact same stages of disbelief when he had first arrived on Equis. Though, at the time, he did have the benefit of seeing the greater aspects of pony magic firsthand while Kyria had only gotten to see Lyra levitate her teacup, so far, and was not especially impressed.

“Wait, stop,” she said finally, raising one hand while using the other to pinch her brow. “You must be joking. ‘Manehatten’? ‘Fillydelphia’? ‘Canterlot?’ Next you’ll be telling me that there’s a, a ‘Seaddle’ and a, let’s see, oh ‘Vanhoofer’!”

All the ponies exchanged looks with each other and remained silent.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” murmured Kyria, resting her face in her palms. A moment later she suddenly jerked up. “Ow!”

“S’rry,” mumbled Rainbow Dash around a bottle of medicine as she cleaned the girl’s wound.

Rainbow Dash sat next to the horned girl, gently applying a clean linen bandage to the girl’s injured leg. The vileshriek’s attack had indeed threatened to leave the wound infected and when the party had arrived at the Hollow, Kyria had directed them to boil some wine to treat the wound. Rainbow had been horrified at the notion, instead diving into her saddlebags and retrieving a small bottle of peroxide.

“Whoever heard of boiling wine anyways?” said Dash, as she used her dextrous wingtips to tie a bandage in place.

Kyria smirked. “Wouldn’t matter,” she hissed. “Wine’s so wimpy, anyways…”

An offended look flashed over Rarity’s face, but she held her silence.

“…I can’t remember the last time I had real booze. I was kind of hoping you might have some. You don’t wanna know WHAT I’d be willing to do for just a single mouthful of real scotch.”

A bright flash lit up one side of the room and Kyria snapped around, her hand instinctively diving for her belt.

“Oh look at that one!” chirped Twilight excitedly. “That one looks like it was made by a different culture! Gotta take a picture of that one!” Kyria dropped her guard and almost huffed annoyedly.

Standing to one side of the room, Twilight Sparkle darted from one collection of trinkets to another like a school filly at a museum. Lyra was close by, her magical grasp lifting Twilight’s camera.

“Twilight, I think we have enough pictures,” said Lyra calmly. “Why don’t we have a seat by the fire?”

Twilight pouted adorably. “But-but science!” she mewled. “I have to document everything! Everything!”

Before Twilight could descend into full-blown eye twitches, Lyra gently ushered her towards their small circle around the fire. “Now, Twilight,” she said calmly. “It’s rude to our hostess. I’m sure you could find out all about this stuff from her in time.”

Lero allowed his eyes to wander towards the walls, one section in particular catching his gaze. There were several crudely drawn sketches carved into the earthen wall. Most looked like bored doodles, the kind he used to make in his notebooks in high school. A few were things he recognized, familiar plants and animals, and others were simple geometric designs.

One image, however, stood out as a centerpiece.

“Seattle?” he said aloud.

Kyria blinked. There, taking up a good section of the wall, was a crudely drawn depiction of the iconic Space Needle. “Yeah,” she said.

Lero smirked. “Always liked that place,” he said. “I went there once when I was still back in school, but it was awesome. Saw Pike’s Place during the early morning and everything. My family and I went there, had the best pastries I ever tasted.”

‘Not counting Pinkie’s cupcakes.’

“It was a little Russian bakery. Um…” Lero snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “It was called… Pir-”

“Piroshky Piroshky,” whispered Kyria. She was standing now, simply staring at Lero. “I… used to go there. On Sundays. Got a rhubarb roll and some… coffee.”

Tears were falling down her eyes.

“I would swing by sometimes after work during the summer. It was always so hot and the market stank but… the food was worth it.” Kyria walked over to another sketch, her stride favoring her injured leg. The new sketch depicted an odd, two-wheeled thing. “Had a little scooter. Mom got it for me when I graduated high school. She was on the city planning board. Dad was an architect. She was talking about the new changes they were going to make to the Space Needle. They were thinking about adding a restaurant at the top.”

Her hands were trembling.

“I had a fight with them,” she began to sob. “I was angry at them. I wanted to travel. Go backpacking with friends across Europe for a year before college. They told me not to leave… why didn’t I listen?”

Her shaking hands wandered over to another picture. Several columns, with crude branches formed a border line. The center held a ring of dots. Lero could tell they were formed by stabbing the soil, each one more harsh than the next.

“I drove to Discovery Park. I went there sometimes. Smoked pot, drank beer.” She made a sound, something between a laugh, a sob, and a hiccup. “Stupid kid stuff.”

By now her shuddering had reached a crescendo. “I got lost. How do you get lost in such a small area? I’d been going there since I was a little girl.”

Her hands balled into fists.

“And then I saw him. Just standing there in a ring of flowers. He… he was so beautiful.”

Kyria slumped to the floor, her hand moving to the wall and digging into the earth, a vain attempt to destroy the memory. “He held out his hand and… and…”

Anything else she had to say was lost when her voice descended into quiet and pitiful sobs. For a few minutes Kyria’s crying was the only sound that filled the small Hollow. Twilight felt tears run down her own cheeks as she watched the girl cling to herself, gently rocking back and forth in her fetal position.

For once, the lavender unicorn had nothing to say. This girl was a total stranger who had just gone through some horrible ordeal Twilight was only beginning to understand. How could she possibly respond to that?

And then Rainbow -- bless her sweet, gentle soul -- made the decision for her.

Rainbow came up to Kyria’s left and wrapped her cyan forelegs around the crying girl. Her soft blue feathers made a comforting cloak that encircled the weeping girl’s form. Kyria started for a moment then lifted her amber eyes to the pegasus in wonder.

“It’s okay,” Rainbow Dash whispered. “It’s okay. Just let it out.”

And with that, the dam broke. Kyria flung herself full on at Dash, clinging to her tightly as if the pony were a life ring in a storm. The human girl wailed, over and over again.

“Why?”

“Why was I taken?”

“Why me?”

“What did I do to deserve this?”

“Why can’t I go back?”

“Why can’t I go home?”

“I want my mom.”

“I want my dad.”

“I want to see my friends again.”

“I want to go home.”

“I want to go home.”

“I want to go home.”

And after what seemed like a small eternity of tears, crying, and snotty noses, Kyria opened her bloodshot eyes. She found herself no longer in one embrace but several. Rarity and Twilight had joined Rainbow in the hug. Kyria buried her nose into the ponies’ manes. Even though her runny nose, she was still able to take in their smells.

The purple one smell like lavender and old paper.

The white one smelled like jasmine.

But the blue one, the one that first held her and helped treat her wounds, she liked best. She smelled like fresh earth and life, she smelled like flowers and rain.

Kyria held onto the blue pony and breathed deeply, inhaling that scent, allowing it to calm her down.

Lero gazed at Dash with a loving expression. Off to the side, he spotted both Lyra and Luna, each of their faces mirroring his own.

“How… long have you been here, Kyria?” Twilight asked softly into the horned human’s ear.

Kyria sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her tanned hand. “Can’t really say. A year? Ten years? Maybe thirty?”

“Thirty? Well, I think we can rule out that last one,” said Twilight, nervously pulling away from the hug.

“Not really,” said Kyria. “Things don’t work here like back home.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Twilight. “My magic hasn’t worked since the first night we came here four days ago.”

“Four days? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” said Luna. “We have seen the sun rise and fall four times since we arrived here.”

“Five if you count this morning,” said Lyra.

Kyria laughed a little, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. “Time doesn’t work here.”

Twilight furrowed her eyebrows. “But… what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly as it sounds,” Kyria told her. “Time doesn’t work here. We are currently ‘outside time’. A day here could be decades back home, or it could be a single heartbeat. It’s just another thing ‘They’ can toy with.”

“But it’s time!” yelled Twilight. The unicorn was beginning to look desperate. “How the flying buck can TIME not exist?! And how in the name of Celestia’s PLOTHOLE-”

Luna’s eyes widened slightly at Twilight colorful use of her sister’s anatomy.

“-can these things control it on a whim?! Nothing can control time!! IT’S MOTHERBUCKING TIME!!!”

“And I’m telling you, it doesn’t work here,” said Kyria. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what this place is. The scrolls at the Tower-”

Kyria suddenly became very quiet.

“What tower?” said Twilight, her voice still charged with that manic quality her herd learned to be wary of.

Kyria crossed her arms again and suddenly took a deep interest in the dirt floor. Both Rarity and Rainbow felt the changed human tremble beneath their limbs.

“What tower? What scrolls?!” demanded Twilight. “What did they say?!”

“That’s enough, Twilight!” shouted Rarity. “Can’t you see this poor girl is traumatized?!” The lead mare cast a seething glare at the lavender unicorn.

Before the situation could devolve any further, the Lost planted himself firmly in between the two mares, instantly silencing them. His blue eyes darted between both Twilight and Rarity, a gaze that said, ‘We’ll talk about this later.’

The Lost knelt in front of Kyria, the horned girl silently rocking herself, and took her small hand in his own, his large fists giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Kyria,” he said. The girl looked up. Amber eyes met with icy blue. “It’s okay. You can talk to us.”

“...I-” she hesitated.

“It’s alright,” said Lyra. The mint unicorn came up beside her; not close enough to touch, but close enough to reassure her. The gentle clop-clop of another pair of hooves told her that Luna had done the same on her opposite side.

“Please heed my advice, Lady Ama,” said the alicorn. “It is always best not to keep these things to yourself. They will only serve to chain you to the past and rot you from within.”

Kyria looked from one pony to another, each one of their faces showing support and reassurance. After a few moments, she took a shaky breath and steady her voice.

“I… I was eighteen,” she began, “when he took me. My… Keeper. The Archivist.” Kyria pulled her pelt cloak around herself. “He dragged me through the thorns. I… I think I lost something there. Some part of me.”

Lero winced. The recent memory of the giant and the swarm of biting things still held fresh in his mind.

“He took me to his tower. Said, ‘You belong to me now, girl.’ He turned me into his ‘assistant’. I was made to organise everything in his library. Whole continents of shelves. They just kept on going and going and it was never good enough. The Archivist would always yell at me, for every little mistake. Called me, ‘a useless piece of meat’ and then hit me. His hands… they were like pens and needles and scalpels.”

“What did this Archivist… archive?” Twilight hesitantly asked.

“He… It didn’t just collect books, or scrolls. It collected everything. People, plants, animals, hobs… Everything had to be ‘studied’.”

Twilight held a hoof to her mouth.

“Most were kept in cages. Others were thrown together in enclosures, just to see how they would interact with each other. Most of the time, the ‘specimens’ would just tear each other apart. I think he knew this, but just liked to watch it anyways. I… I had to document all of the results. And if I missed a single detail, ‘Useless meat! Next time it will be you in the pit!’

“I saw him do that more than once. There were others he captured, or bought from others like him. And when he learned all he could, he’d either throw them into the pits or… preserve them.”

The ponies in the room shuddered. The Lost did his best to control himself, lest his clenching hand crush the girl’s.

“He made me do that too. I…”

The tears fell.

“One day he called me to the labs. Said that, ‘I have an experiment I wish to perform and a reward to give you.’ Then… then he grabbed me and threw me on the table and strapped me down.

“‘I’m going to add some things to you and see if they hold.’”

Kyria raised a trembling hand to one of her horns. Finally, Luna had enough.

“Tis enough, sweet child,” she whispered, “you may stop-”

“I escaped,” said Kyria suddenly. “He got sloppy. He would lose himself for days in experiments and research and ‘specimen collection,’ and leave me alone in the library. I read. The scrolls, the tomes, the journals, I read them.”

She clasped her hands together tightly.

“I learned. I learned how this place works. I learned about the magic. The Contracts.”

“‘Contracts’?” asked Rarity, drawing Kyria’s gaze.

“There are forces here. Even more ancient than the Others. They say that the oldest and most powerful of the Others, they made bargains with them. That’s how it works here. Everything is a bargain. If you want to get something, you have to give something, see? If you want to do something here, you need to make a contract. Become invisible? Make a deal with Darkness. Speak to animals? Make a bargain with them. Flying? Talk to the Air or the Bird.”

“But what do you give?” asked Twilight.

Kyria looked at her. “Our Glamour,” she said. “The raw stuff of our emotions. It’s how They are able to do everything. All the… the horrors and the beauty and the things that make them the Others, it’s all because of Glamour.”

Kyria leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. “It’s the main reason why they take us.”

“What?” whispered Rarity.

“Us. People. We are… they can’t make it themselves, you see. They need us. That’s why they always take us. We’re Glamour producers to take and feed off of. Our love, our hate, our fear, our hope, it is all fuel for them and their powers. Eventually, if you’re here long enough, you can learn to feed on Glamour the same way they do.”

Twilight was stunned. An entire race of being dedicated to enslavement for… what? More power?

“How?” she breathed. “How could they do this? Don’t they know what… what kind of suffering they’re inflicting?”

Kyria shook her head. “They don’t care. They’re not like you or me. They are beyond us. They’re…” The horned girl swallowed. “They’re gods. And we’re just little insects to them to be picked up, and collected, and pinned to some board-”

“Kyria,” said the Lost, his words snapping her back to the here and now. “How did you escape?”

Kyria stared for a moment. “I tricked him.” The girl giggled, legitimately giggled, a sound that set the others in the room ever so slightly on edge. “He sent me out to gather some herbs for his next experiment. I had done it thousands of times before, to the point where he stopped sending soldiers of his to chaperone me, and let me go alone.

“I ran. I hid. I used the contracts and my own Glamour to escape!” Again, she giggled. “I tricked him! I escaped!”

“Yes,” said the Lost, nodding his head encouragingly. “You made it out.”

Suddenly, Kyria’s smile dropped. “But I was still lost. I didn’t know how to get home. I couldn’t remember. Still can’t.”

“Remember what?” asked Lyra.

The tears threatened to spill again. “I can’t remember what Mom looks like. I can’t remember what Daddy looks like. It’s… it’s like a dream.”

New laughter started, slow and threatening to descend into full blown hysteria.

“What if it was? What if Seattle was all someone else’s life? What if I’m not real? What if I have always been with the Archivist and Kyria Ama was just some girl he cut up on the operating table and stuck inside me?”

Kyria stared down at her hands. The long, black nails clicked with each other before digging into her palms.

“What if that other place was all just a dream? What if none of it was ever real? What if…?”

Kyria suddenly found her head gripped by two strong hands, forcing her gaze into the Lost’s burning blue eyes.

“Stop,” he commanded. “Don’t think that. Don’t you dare think that. Don’t let this place win.”

Kyria stared wide-eyed at the Lost for several tense moments. Then her amber eyes narrowed into a predatory glare.

There was the faint sound of scraping metal.

“Let go,” she hissed.

The Lost looked down and took note of the large knife that was now pointed at his stomach.

“I refuse to let this place or let those sick fucks get to me.”

The blade twisted ever so slightly, tearing a small hole in the Lost’s shirt. Lyra’s gaze hardened as she took smooth quiet steps, circling around behind the woman. Kyria, followed her out of the corner of her eye, her pointed ear twisting slightly to match.

“And you people still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Kyria, please,” implored Rainbow Dash. The cyan pegasus slowly raised her hoof towards the girl’s knife arm. “He didn’t mean to harm you. Didn’t you, Lost?”

“Of course not,” whispered the Lost, his eyes never leaving Kyria’s blade.

“Of course not.” Rainbow repeated. “And none of us want to either. ‘Cause that’s not what friends do, right? They help each other out.”

Kyria’s eyes widened. “...Friends?” she whispered, as though struggling to recall what that word meant.

Rainbow nodded her head. “Uh huh. We’re all friends here. And we need your help now. There are some fillies, three sweet little pony girls from my hometown, and they were kidnapped here. That’s why we came here. To get them back home.”

“Home…” whispered Kyria. The blade slowly lowered itself and the Lost let go of the breath he had been holding.

“Two of them are our dearest friends’ little sisters, darling,” said Rarity, her voice smooth and comforting. “There’s Apple Bloom, with a light yellow coat, and the reddest mane you have ever seen, almost always tied up in a perfect pink bow.”

Rarity took a quick look around at her fellow ponies around her: the two unicorns, the pegasus, and the alicorn, then turned back to Kyria.

“Apple Bloom’s what we call an ‘earth pony,’ meaning she has neither wings nor a horn.” She explained. “She’s a stubborn girl, just like her older sister and all the rest of her family, but is very dedicated to them all and to her friends.”

The horned woman nodded.

“There’s Sweetie Belle. She’s…” Rarity’s voice hitched slightly. “She’s a precious little thing. A unicorn with a snowy white coat and an adorable curly mane. Her parents are two of the biggest-hearted ponies I have ever met… and her elder sister’s a dear friend of mine.

“And then there’s Scootaloo. A pegasus with an orange coat and purple mane.” Rarity smiled with great fondness. “I think you would like her. She’s a little firecracker, that one. She’s… she’s all her mother has. She’s all they ever had. Everyone of them has a family that’s waiting back home for them.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Twilight. “And we need your help if we’re going to save them. Right, girls?” A chorus of affirmatives sounded from the rest of the group.

Kyria blinked, her gaze darting from one pony to the next. “What…?”

“We need to go to a place called Gladesrest,” said Luna. “Do you know of it?”

Kyria nodded her head.

Luna stood up to her full height, her great dark wings out at her sides. “Kyria Ama,” she spoke her voice quiet but still full of authority. “I, Luna, Princess of the Moon, Keeper of the Dreamrealm, Guardian of the Night, and Diarch of the Kingdom of Equestria, humbly beseech thee to guide us on our quest to reclaim these three lost souls and see them safely home.” The alicorn then bowed low to the dirt floor, her long horn pointed at Kyria’s bare feet.

Kyria sat in dumb silence as the rest of the group mirrored the action. Even the Lost had kneeled, one fist touching the ground. Suddenly, his eyes shifted from blue to hazel.

“Please, Kyria,” Lero whispered. “It may be too late to spare us from our own fate. But maybe with your help, we can spare them. Please help us.”

No one made a sound.

Finally, Kyria said, “Under one condition.”

Kyria leaned forward and took Lero’s hand. “If... when you find these girls… and you’re ready to bring them home… I want you to promise me one thing.”

“Yes?”

Kyria’s grip tightened. “I want to to swear to me…”

“Yes?”

“...Take me with you.”

All of the girls looked up.

“Take me with you,” Kyria repeated earnestly. “I want… I need to get out of here. And if I can’t go home to Earth… this ‘Equestria’ place sounds like it’d be a pretty sweet alternative. Friendly. Sane. Civilized. I may be able to start over there. Like you did.”

Lero nodded encouragingly. It did his heart good to see real hope emerge in Kyria Ama’s eyes.

“So when this is over, please, take me with you to Equestria.”

“...Okay. I promise.”

“Swear,” pleaded Kyria. Her grip had tightened enough that her nails had pierced Lero’s skin, drawing a single drop of blood. “Please…”

Lero Michealides put his other hand on top of hers.

“I swear on everything I hold dear,” he assured her with his warmest smile.

After nearly a week of traveling on the road, the small troupe relished the chance to sleep with a real roof over their heads. And since they also had no need for a nightly watch (Kyria having assured them that her Hollow had mystical wards put in place to keep away unwanted attention,) the group also enjoyed the opportunity for some very welcome uninterrupted sleep.

Lero, his herd, Princess Luna, and even Kyria all slept together in a large ring around the fireplace. Rarity took her usual place, snuggling close to Lero. Lyra and Twilight were wrapped in each other’s arms, Lyra having done her best to calm the frantic scholar; the new revelation of how time worked (or didn’t work, as the case was) had once again set Twilight’s nerves into overdrive. After nearly an hour of feverish muttering into Lyra’s furry chest and soft, loving ministrations from Lyra’s hooves and lips, Twilight finally descended into a peaceful slumber, their tails intertwined.

Luna had curled up on the opposite side of Lero and Rarity, one eye occasionally drifting to the sleeping man and his mare. Just as she was on the verge of her sleep, an errant thought entered her mind.

For a fleeting moment, she recalled the final days of the Blank Plague, and those nights the two of them spent together.

And just as she drifted off to sleep, she felt a phantasmal sentation of his strong hands running through her starry mane.

A small smile crossed her lips before she entered a pleasant dream.

Kyria and Dash laid together on the girl’s modest bedding. Rainbow had laid down her sleeping bag, fully unzipped, and the two covered themselves in a threadbare blanket and a few soft fur skins. The human girl had become attached to the kindly pegasus; Rainbow had been the first being to show her any kind of true kindness in a long time, a fact that the mare took great pride in.

“What’s it like?” Kyria whispered quietly. It was past midnight and the two had spent some time talking with each other in hushed whispers.

“What’s what like?” asked Rainbow, her rose-colored eyes catching the glowing lamps’ pale light.

“Living in… Ponyville? Living with other ponies, what’s it like?”

“Well, it can be hectic sometimes. I’m almost not the best pony to ask.”

Kyria frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, being in charge of so many animals definitely takes a lot out of you and cuts down on the time you can spend in town,” the pegasus explained. “But still… Ponyville’s great. I have all of my friends there… and, well…” Rainbow Dash blushed in the darkness. “Lero’s there. And he just makes everything… just so much better. All of them do: Rarity, Twilight, and Lyra. Even little Spike. They are so supportive.”

Kyria smiled. “They sound very important to you.”

“Yeah,” Dash sighed. “They’re the best.”

Kyria’s smile faltered. “I… I never had anyone.”

“That’s not true,” Rainbow assured her. “You had your friends and your parents in Seattle, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but… it was not like what you have. I’ve never… been with someone that makes me feel like that. There was someone once. A long time ago. Maybe we… could have been. But he went away.”

Rainbow scooted closer to the girl under the warm blankets, pulling her into a hug.

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispered. “When… when we get back to Equestria, you can come live with me.”

Kyria’s amber eyes lit up. “Really? Just like that?”

“Lero lived with me, when we first found him. And he was all alone too. He stayed with me for a while, then one thing led to another, and he eventually got his own place. Then when he and Rarity got together, and later on when Twilight joined them, they all moved into one big house. Lyra too.”

Kyria closed her eyes and put an arm around Rainbow. “That sounds nice,” she whispered. “I’d like that too, you know. Having people to care about. And who care about me.”

“Tell you what: why not have us all live there, one day?” Rainbow smiled and opened her eyes. “I promise. You can come to Ponyville. You’ll make lots of friends there.” The pegasus yawned, bringing herself closer to the girl. “I promise you’ll never be lonely again.”

And as she drifted off to sleep, Dash felt warm tears wet against her fur and a quiet whisper of, “Thank you…”

“What of this illusion?” A bright flash flooded the room and a dark blue unicorn appeared in the princess’ place.

Kyria shook her head. “I can still sense you,” she told Luna. “Your alienness.”

That morning, they had all come to the conclusion that trotting up to the front gates of Gladesrest as a group of ponies would be an extremely bad idea.

“At least one Fae Lord knows of Equestria,” the Lost had said, “and in my opinion, that is one too many.”

The others had agreed wholeheartedly and so spent the morning trying to form disguises to hide their otherworldly nature. So far, it had been less than productive.

“The problem is that you… well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you all reek,” explained Kyria.

Rarity gasped. “I beg your pardon?!”

“Not like that!” Kyria raised her hands defensively. “It’s your magic!” At their confused looks, she continued. “You all have this… aura about you that just screams ‘I’m not from around here!’ It’s a dead giveaway.”

The Lost nodded his head. “The moment a privateer catches wind of your auras, we’ll be thrown into a cage in the blink of an eye.”

“Privateer?” asked Twilight.

“Slavers,” spat the Lost. “Freelancers that work for Fae Lords, capturing runaways and regular people to be sold off like cattle.”

“A market town like Gladesrest has rules against any kind of violence outside sanctioned events,” explained Kyria. “And the ogres that enforce them beat the tar out of anyone that breaks the market truce.”

“But outside the town,” finished Lyra, having quickly caught on. “We’d be fair game.”

The Lost nodded his head. “And that doesn’t account for any kind of attack that might come from the shadows within the town. Right under the law’s noses.”

“And you don’t want to be captured,” Kyria chimed in. “Not just for your own sakes. Every scrap of knowledge you have of your home world would be as good as theirs. They have ways of making you talk. And Equestria would suffer for it.”

“So then,” said Twilight, “We have to disguise ourselves as something other than ponies, but in such a way that doesn’t use our own magic, and will hide our nature altogether.” She sat and thought for a moment.

Luna took this chance to dispel her own illusion, spreading her wings and stretching her neck. “Tis a most vexing problem,” she said.

The group sat together in contemplation. Twilight and Luna running through their vast knowledge of the arcane, but always coming back to the same conclusion: no matter what spell they might try to hide their own personal signatures, it would still radiate “pony”.

Then, after what seemed like a hour of beating their collective heads against the wall, Lyra came up with a solution.

“Human,” she said, staring at Lero.

All eyes were on her.

“Make us human,” she said, more emphatically.

“What?” asked Twilight.

She and all her fellow ponies peered over at the two humans, especially Kyria... imagining themselves having that sort of shape, skeletal structure, and limbs. Twilight waited for somepony else to raise a vehement objection, but none came. Not so much as a hem or a haw. That probably spoke volumes about what a positive impression Lero had given them of the human race.

“I guess… I guess we could do that,” Twilight said, at last. “Luna, I think I’ve told you about how we’ve changed Lero into a stallion multiple times before-”

“Wait, what?” interrupted Kyria.

“Later,” said the Lost hastily, not quite able to meet the horned woman’s eyes.

Kyria was silent for a moment, looking from mare to mare, then her eyes widened and her cheeks suddenly blossomed scarlet as the implications of such a transformation dawned on her.

Twilight continued talking, oblivious as usual. “Of course, I’m not even capable of casting magic right now, but perhaps if I were to brainstorm with Lyra and Luna for a couple days, we might-”

“No,” said Lyra. “Not with our magic.” Lyra looked at Kyria, her trademark enigmatic grin still wide on her face. “With hers.”

Now it was Kyria’s to be the center of attention. The horned girl blinked once.

“...Me?!” she blurted out. She stood up faster than any of them could blink, her once flushed face now drained. “I-I’ve never done anything like that!”

“But you did, didn’t you?” said Lyra confidently. “When you were escaping from the Archivist.”

“B-b-but that was just on myself! Doing something like that on another person… I don’t know if I can do that!”

“It’s probably our best bet,” the Lost agreed.

“But-but…” Kyria stammered.

“Miss Ama,” Luna said calmly, “simply tell us what you would need.”

Kyria’s gazed darted between the expectant faces of around here, her hands wringing worriedly. She slowly walked across the room and began removing several errant trinkets from one of the tables. Having cleared a large space on the table, Kyria took her left thumb between her sharp fangs and bit down hard, giving a small squeak at the pain.

Rainbow’s wings fluttered in surprise. She was about to speak up, but a raised hand from the Lost stopped her. “Let’s see what she does,” his eyes told her.

Using her bloodied thumb as a brush, the horned girl drew two symbols on the wood’s surface: a simple keyhole and a two-pronged key. Twilight watched the ritual in curiosity, her academic mind spinning at the implications of what was unfolding before her eyes. If not for her good manners, Twilight’s camera would’ve been clicking away like mad.

Kyria tipped her right fingers and thumb with her own blood and then reached down onto the table.

The group gasped as the girl lifted up a red metal, two-pronged key out of the table’s surface.

Twilight’s eye was twitching violently and several hairs threatened to spring upwards away from her styled mane. “How in Equestria…?” she whispered.

“Not Equestria,” said the Lost, his blue eyes never leaving the ritual. “Arcadia.”

Kyria took the key and inserted it into the bloody keyhole, turning it clockwise. The group heard a loud *click* followed by several more as a complex mechanism began to operate. Kyria removed the key in time to watch the table’s surface split. A circle, two feet wide, sank half an inch downwards. The circle split again, dividing into twelve curvilinear triangles.

These smaller shapes then retracted outwards like a camera’s iris, revealing a hidden compartment. “Here,” said Kyria. She reached into the compartment, reaching deeper than what should have been possible for table of that thickness, and withdrew an ornate scroll.

It could easily have been a piece of artwork displayed in Manehatten’s MET. An artifact of intricate metal and jewel work of amethyst and platinum. The handles held together a luxurious piece of papyrus that simultaneously looked brand new and unbelievably ancient.

Kyria took a steadying breath. Using her bloody thumbs, she undid a small chain that locked the two handles together. The chain dipped a little in the air, then hovered in place between the two handles. Kyria took another breath and, with firm hands, unrolled the scroll. Her eyes suddenly flashed, glowing and intense amber and the handles began to move on their own. They rolled one way then the other, images penned in rich black ink dancing across her eyes.

Kyria glowing eyes darted across the pages, much faster than any of the others had seen before. They seemed to moved too fast to do anything useful, but something told the onlookers that those eyes were able to drink in every detail the scroll was showing her.

Kyria’s hair began to dance around her, her lips muttering silently. The black roots of her hair flowed and mixed with the white tips, creating the illusion of white sea water crashing against black rocks.

Twilight watched in abhorrent silence as the scroll moved. There were times when it seemed to zoom in on something, revealing an image to be a vastly detailed diagram, and others when it seemed to somehow impossibly scroll upwards!

Her gaze dared to flicker to the others. They watched not in horror, but in rapt fascination, as the impossible scroll showed Kyria exactly what she needed to know.

‘How are they not screaming?’ she wondered to herself. ‘This isn’t right! This is impossible!!’

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, Twi, it’s that ‘impossible’ is always up for being redefined around us.”

Suddenly, the scroll snapped itself shut and the floating chain secured itself in its rightful place. Kyria’s eyes faded back to their usual hue and rolled upwards. Her legs went limp as she began to fall to the ground.

“Kyria!” shouted Rainbow as she shot forward with a powerful flap of her wings. She was able to catch the falling girl before she could hurt herself.

“I’m okay,” Kyria breathed. “Just… just give me a minute.” She braced herself and stood up again, replacing the strange scroll in its hidden compartment.

Twilight whimpered slightly and had to stop herself from reaching out for it.

“That… that took more out of me that I thought,” she said as she made her way over to another table. This table was covered in jars of all shapes and sizes. Kyria reached for one and withdrew a single red leaf. She took the leaf between her lips and began to chew slowly, savoring the bitter taste.

A moment later she stood up straight and seemed as alert as ever.

“Right then,” she said vigorously before turning to the group. “Who's ready for this?”

An hour later, the group had cleared away a large section of the Hollow’s single room. All of the mares stood in a circle drawn with white chalk, each then connected with its neighbor by a white line. Another concentric ring held a collection of dozens of seemingly random objects that the horned girl had collected in her exile.

Kyria was busy inscribing another ring, this one containing several strange symbols in formulae the others could even begin to comprehend, at the ritual’s outer perimeter.

“Okay,” said Kyria, finishing a white symbol with a small flourish, “that should do it.” She looked down, seemingly satisfied with her work.

“‘Should’?” said the Lost. He stood outside of the rings with his arms crossed. “That’s not a word that exactly instills me with confidence. We’re forcefully infusing them all with Glamour here. Which is pretty much the same process both you and I went through when we were taken, Kyria. ‘Should’ shouldn’t even be in our vocabulary right now.”

“And yet you just said it yourself,” quipped Kyria. “Besides, do you have a better idea for hiding an extradimensional magical signature?”

The Lost narrowed his eyes. “Will it be reversible?”

Kyria examined her work again, her fingers playing with the little piece of chalk.. “Well… it, um, should be.”

The Lost pinched his brow. “This has got to be the worst idea ever. Of all time.”

“Have faith, Sir Lost,” encouraged Luna. “I’m… sure the Lady Ama knows what she is doing.”

“Not really,” said Kyria, taking position in the very center of the ritual space. “I’m just following the instructions here.”

Twilight’s eye twitched again.

“Okay then!” Kyria slapped her hands together and rubbed her palms quickly. “Let’s get this party started.”

Kyria leaned down and picked up a small incense burner. She lifted the lid, cupped her hands and inhaled deeply.

Once…

Twice…

Three times…

The burner clattered to the ground.

Kyria’s head lolled back as her eyes opened. They were completely white. Her lithe arms slowly rose out to her sides as her body soon began to sway back and forth in some unheard rhythm. Her head continued to roll around her shoulders as her body undulated.

The Lost looked down at one of the tables. Several of the glass bottles and odd trinkets began to clatter with each as some unseen force began to pulse through the room.

The mares also took note, Rarity shifting nervously in place. ‘Is this supposed to happen?’ she wondered to herself as-

Something metal clicked, pulling Rarity’s attention back to the center of the ring. Kyria’s hands were at her shoulders, undoing the metal clasps that held her pelt cloak in place. With the flick of a wrist, the pelt dropped to the floor, revealing the woman’s toned bare chest. A similar motion was repeated at her hips, and then Kyria was standing naked before them all.

Rarity blinked. She had seen Lero naked many, many times before and he had drawn a few pictures of what a female human looked like, but she hadn’t really… expected…

Rarity’s thoughts become slow and muddy as her eyes clouded, becoming a pale white.

The other four mares’ eyes did the same.

The Lost watched in fascination as Kyria’s body began to glow and lifted itself off the ground. The five mares soon followed, all hovering a short distance above the floor.

Kyria body continued to undulate, quite erotically, if the Lost was being perfectly honest. The mares’ bodies began to do the same.

The unseen forces swirling around the ritual was reaching a crescendo. Every object in the Hollow began to rattle, several falling off their respective surfaces; one table’s legs broke, spilling its contents across the floor; even the tree roots in the ceiling were moving, swaying back and forth with the bodies below.

Finally, at the very peak of the ritual, Kyria arched her back backwards, her mouth opening in a howling moan that resonated with the five mares.

There was a bright flash of light and suddenly the Lost was knocked off his feet.

Rarity was sore. Everywhere.

She was lying down on hard earth. She knew this was going to get in her mane.

A tired groan escaped her throat.

“But Daddy,” she moaned, “I don’t want to go to school today…”

Wait… that didn’t feel right. Why were her lips so…?

Her tongue moved in her mouth and she felt sharp teeth.

Instantly her eyes snapped open and she brought a hand to her mouth, trying to-

Hand.

Rarity’s eyes widened. She was staring at a pale, slender hand.

Her hand.

A small eep threatened to escape her new lips.

“By all the stars,” whispered Luna. Rarity turned her head and this time she couldn’t contain a gasp. Luna was sitting on the ground, her pale white legs tucked beneath her, as she examined her own hands.

Under the glow of the sole remaining lamp’s light, Luna looked stunning. Her hair retained the starry, ethereal quality of her old pony mane, but now it was so much more detailed, with vast constellations and colorful nebulae painting a sky uncanningly similar to their first night in this world. While her dark blue horn was now missing, she still retained her wings, which had almost tripled in size. The huge limbs hung about her shoulders like a great feathery cloak and sharply contrasted her pale skin, which now matched the powdery white surface of her moon. Luna’s eyes shone brightly in the dim light. They were identical to the Lost’s; pale and icy blue irises set in pitch-black scleras.

Rarity looked down at herself. Her skin seemed to match her old coat, a pale alabaster. Like Luna, her horn had vanished. She moved her feet experimentally and couldn’t help but giggle like a foal at the strange sensation of wiggling her toes. Rarity felt something tingle and she examined her mane… no, hair. The violet locks were now a deep, deep purple that matched the look of a powerful thunderhead cloud. Moreover, there was a curious smoky quality to her hair, as if it were made out of stormcloud. She felt the same sensation behind her eyes and somehow knew that they too had taken on the same look.

“I… I have fingers,” said Lyra. Rarity turned to see the first of her herd sisters. Lyra had somehow seated herself cross-legged. Her new body was slightly toned and a light tan, but it almost seemed to shimmer. There was a glow about her, a strange effect that faintly played about her skin, as if light was shining down upon her through shallow water. Lyra’s short mane held onto its original mint coloration, but now it seemed to move on its own, again looking as if she were submerged in water.

“Fingers,” she said giddily. Lyra raised one of her feet off the ground and a smile spread across her face. “Toes…” She reached up and touched her flat face. “Tiny nose!”

“This… this is amazing,” came Twilight’s voice. Both Lyra and Rarity turned to face her. Twilights new eyes shined from within with a white light as she examined herself. Her lavender skin, a close shade to her original coloration, was covered with strange glowing symbols that danced and shimmered in and out of existence along her smooth skin. Her long hair spilled around her body on the floor, still holding onto her trademark two-toned highlights.

“My wings!” shouted Rainbow Dash. Again, all eyes darted to the pegasus. Except she was no longer a pegasus. A pair of shining diaphanous wings sprouted from her back. She twisted her head around as far back as her neck would allow to watch them folding and unfolding against her toned, athletic body. Rainbow’s multicolored hair matched her old mane but now sported a new addition. The woman reached up and touched the two brightly colored antennae that sprouted from her temples and trailed a full foot behind her head, terminating in a short and fuzzy curl.

Rarity had to blink. Rainbow seemed, well, short. Rarity estimated that her newest herdmate stood a little more than half a head shorter than herself in human form.

Rainbow examined herself. “I’m…” she said before her shoulders visibly slumped. “I’m my cutie mark…” She looked down expectantly at her hip.

Her eyes widened. “My cutie mark!” Her trio of pink butterflies had changed. In its place was a single black symbol that depicted a winged insect. A strange but beautiful linear and knotted design, not unlike a pictogram. Rarity had recalled seeing similar pictogram markings on the large stones near the portal. They were also carved into Kyria’s walls, around them.

All of the mares-turned-women examined their hips, noting how they all now sported similar knotted redesigns of their old cutie marks.

“Perhaps,” said Luna, “This too is part of the disguise?”

“It must be,” said Twilight. “I… I can see…” Her glowing eyes widened. “I can see it!”

“See what?” asked a new voice. All of the women looked to the center to see Kyria slowly sitting herself up, her tan arms slightly trembling. She blinked tiredly, trying to fully comprehend what she was seeing. Finally her amber eyes widened. “Woah,” she whispered. “It… it worked.” Then she smirked. “Cool.”

A deep groan sounded throughout the room. “Ow,” said Lero, as he picked himself up. “Was that supposed to happen?”

Kyria turned her head. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Like I told you I’m only following… directions…”

Then the horned woman’s eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open.

“...What?” said the pale figure in the room. He took several steps forward into the remaining lantern’s light. From head to toe, Lero’s skin had turned completely white, though his hair had become a brilliant red that looked almost like molten rock.

His body was now toned and muscular. His facial features were more angular than before and his pointed ears had grown to resemble curving daggers. His dark eyes, now almost a strange almond shape, stared at the girls uncomprehendingly before he looked down to examine himself. His hands had grown, becoming bulkier, stronger. Clenching his fists experimentally, he felt as if there were something new just beneath the surface, something hard and deadly.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, turning towards the women. “I wasn’t supposed to change! Why the hell am I-?”

For no explainable reason, Lero suddenly stopped talking and just stared.

Twilight spoke up. “Maybe the ritual somehow accelerated the… Um, Lero?”

Lero was still staring wordlessly.

“My Prince?” asked Rarity, leaning forward. “Are you alright?”

Lero muttered something.

“Fingers?” asked Lyra.

For more than five years, Lero had been living in Equestria. And in those five years, he had known friendship and love unlike anything he had ever experienced back on Earth. He had the love of three wonderful mares, four now after the Swap. He had experienced carnal delights that outshone all of his previous rendezvous.

But always in the back of his mind, there existed that yearning. That one part of every human man’s sexual drive that defied all reason.

Now after five long years, that part of Lero had come surging back to the surface.

“...boobs…” he muttered again.

All of the women were before him were as naked as the day they were born.

And they all were absolutely drop dead gorgeous.

“Lero,” Luna stood up. “Prithee, I beg yooouuuuOOOH!”

The Lunar Princess, quite unused to walking bipedally, found herself falling forwards, her pale arms flailing in front of her. Lero snapped out of his daze long enough to step forward to try and catch her, but only succeeded in bringing them both to the ground...

...with Luna lying naked on top of him and one of his hands now cupping one of her perfectly formed breasts.

Luna instantly recognized the intimacy of their position and felt her cheeks turn a brilliant crimson as she stared in Lero’s hazel eyes.

“Lero,” she whispered, her mouth suddenly dry.

An errant part of Lero’s brain sent a sudden and impulsive signal to his hand, causing it to ever-so-gently squeeze.

It took every iota of Luna’s willpower, but even she could not suppress the small moan as a fire ignited under her skin.

Lero’s own eyes widened as his cheeks reddened in a blush. But before he could completely descend into panic, Rarity spoke.

“My word,” she said. “These… these are marvelous!”

Lero looked up from his prone position. His brain suddenly stripped its gears at the sight in front of him.

Rarity, the mare he had come to love so dearly, was fondling, properly fondling, her D-cup breasts.

“Oh they’re so soft,” she exclaimed. “Oh Lero, why did you never tell us human women were this exquisite?”

Rarity looked down at her stallion and saw his wide gaze and slightly gaping mouth. A sudden -- and let’s be honest, downright evil -- thought entered her mind. Grinning, Rarity leaned forward on her hands, pressing her breasts up against her arms and giving herself an impressive cleavage.

“Something catch your eye, darling?” she asked seductively.

Luna suddenly felt something hard press into her lower body. She pushed off the ground, trying once more to stand up but soon found herself on her rear end with a rather unregal yelp.

“Fascinating,” said Twilight, poking her own breast experimentally with a slender finger. To her, it still felt bizarre that they should be positioned so close to the arms, rather than near the crotch.

“These appear to be fully formed. But none of us are pregnant or the mothers of newborns. So is it normal for human mammaries to be like this? ...Lero?”

Lero, having righted himself into a sitting position, stared blankly ahead, his rapidly deteriorating mind attempting to form some semblance of a cohesive thought.

“Bwah?”

It was close enough.

“Hehe!” giggled Lyra. “They tickle!” Lero turned to the Grandmaster and felt another higher function system in his brain shut down. Lyra was using her new fingers to manipulate her nipples before giving them a quick pinch. “Oooh! Oh yeah, those are still the same.”

“Did you, um,” hesitated Dash. She was staring worriedly down at her own breasts as she easily cupped them in her hands. She looked upwards at Lero, worry clear in her eyes. “Is there something about me that’s wrong?”

“Wrong, darling?” asked Rarity.

“Well,” said Rainbow, “they’re so small...” She held her left breast in a long-fingered hand to emphasize the point; the small mound of flesh barely filled her newfound palm. “Why aren’t mine like theirs? ...Lero?”

Lero sat there, his jaw hanging slack with the barest grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Dash’s new form, while carrying a few extra appendages for a typical human, looked exactly the part of a physically fit woman; toned and muscled flesh, short cropped hair, and small, perky, athletic breasts.

After a few moments, he finally said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” questioned Dash, who cupped her other breast with her hand. “But why-?”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with having small breasts, Rainbow,” said Lero, who still seemed to be speaking in a dreamy state the girls were more used to seeing from Spike.

In the center of the ring, Kyria blushed but still managed to roll her amber eyes. “Men,” she muttered under her breath, unconsciously covering her own chest with crossed arms.

“Left foot, right foot,” murmured Twilight as she took a few shaky steps forward. Lero held onto her hands as he walked with her. He had told himself that he was going to be respectful about this, that the girls weren’t used to walking on two legs, that he was going to be professional-

And he was staring at her tits again.

“Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot,” repeated Twilight, her steps appearing to become more natural. A smile soon came to her face. “I’m doing it!”

Most of the afternoon had been going as such. Lero, having mostly recovered his cognitive abilities, and Kyria had both been teaching the girls how to move about with their new bodies. Lyra took to it almost instantly, he muscles somehow retaining her martial artist abilities. In no time at all, she was performing human approximations of her Still Way katas.

“Rivers flow into the sea,” she recited quietly, her palm facing upward before pivoting on the balls of her feet, turning her palm into a fist. Her weightless hair flowed effortly around her head with every move, making it look like she were dancing, even while holding still. “Flow with the river.”

Rarity gazed at her songbird. “It’s almost unfair,” she said. Like Twilight, she was currently being led around the room by Kyria, who was dressed once more in her pelt cloak and high low skirt.

“What is?” asked Kyria, while watching Rarity’s feet, doing her best to focus on Rarity’s leg movements, hoping she wouldn’t unthinkingly drop to all fours. Again. Right now, she just needed to-

‘God dammit, how come she has such great looking tits?’

“That our songbird takes to this so quickly while the rest of us must be helped along like foals learning to walk.” Rarity then raised an eyebrow as she took in Lyra’s smooth movements and smiled sensually. “Though I supposed it’s not all bad.”

“Okay, that’s it!” shouted Kyria. The horned girl suddenly dropped Rarity’s hands, nearly causing the pale woman to stumble before righting herself.

Kyria walked to a large wooden chest and kicked it open. She reached in and pulled out a large collection of clothing and threw it towards the other women.

“Before any of this gets any weirder, you people are going to put some fucking clothes on!”

Twilight Sparkle looked between the garment Kyria had thrown her and Lero with fascination. “So… all the other humans really are as body-shy as you are, Lero?”

Lero tried to work his face into a stern expression. “In a word... yes. Almost all humans consider clothing to be as much an absolute necessity as food and shelter. Frankly, if anyone else -- human or otherwise -- ever saw you girls act unbothered about being stark naked in front of others….it’d raise quite a few red flags.”

“And to think, we always figured he was exaggerating…” Twilight murmured to Lyra, while Kyria gave all the transformed mares a nod of firm agreement.

And so, the newly formed women soon found themselves clothed and covered. For the most part.

“Does anyone have an extra top?” asked Rainbow, who was only sporting a meager skirt. None of the other remaining clothes in Kyria’s pile would fit her body.

Lero went through his pack. “Um, oh! Here,” he said, pulling out one of his sweaters. He brought it over to table and removed his knife. Eyeballing the space needed, he cut two slits into the garment, wide enough for Rainbow’s new wings to fit through. “Try this on.”

Rainbow gingerly took the wool garment and slipped over her head, but soon found herself struggling with the arms. Lero reached up and helped guide her skinny limbs, pulling a hand through each of the sleeves before giving one final tug and popping Rainbow’s head through the top. With a little more help, Rainbow was able to fit her wings through the two slits.

“Um,” she said blinking, blushing slightly at Lero’s closeness. “How… how do I look?” She looked up at him with those rose-colored eyes, her cheeks slightly red. Rainbow brought her arms close, suddenly feeling self-conscious. One hand drifted downwards to tug at the bottom of the sweater.

Lero gave a small noise. He wasn’t quite sure what a heart attack was supposed to feel like, but he was pretty sure he was having one now. His suddenly tentative fingers reached forward shyly, settling upon the back of her human hand. She looked up and her smile was wonderful.

Rarity, now sporting a grey-furred cloak and a red wrap skirt, came alongside Rainbow and pulled her into a warm hug, smushing Rainbow’s head into her new bosom and eliciting a small squeak from the butterfly girl.

“Oh, darling,” she positively squealed, “you’re absolutely adorable!” She looked up at Lero, a sly smirk on her face. “Isn’t that right, my prince?”

Lero could only nod, hoping his heart wouldn’t implode at the sheer amount of cuteness in front of him.

Off to the side, Princess Luna, wearing an appropriately colored midnight blue skirt and a black wolf’s pelt, spoke to Kyria. “We thank you for your hospitality, Miss Ama,” she said.

The horned girl was busy packing several baubles into a large pack. “Oh, no problem, err, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me ‘Luna’.”

Kyria smiled shyly. “Only if you call me ‘Kyria’.”

“It’s a bargain then,” smiled Luna.

Twilight and Lyra were busy examining themselves. Lyra had wrapped her forearms and lower legs in protective white strips while wearing a weather black tank top and a pair of ratty loose pants.

“Hmm,” mused Twilight aloud as she looked over her red robes. “Form-fitting, warm, practical.” She frowned, noting several moth-eaten holes. “Not very durable, though.”

“Well, it’s the best I could scavenge,” said Kyria, clippin a few bottles of powder to her waist. “I’m sure we’ll be able to trade for some better stuff once we get to Gladerest. You can get pretty much anything there.”

“What will we trade with?” asked Lyra. “We didn’t exactly bring any money.”

Kyria smiled and swept her arms across the entire Hollow. “I guess being a pack rat for so many years is finally going to pay off.” She then hefted a large sack across her back. “Come on, help me get all this crap outside.”

“Wait, before we do that,” Lero interrupted. “Before we even think of setting foot in Gladerest… everyone, gather around me. Two things we need to discuss.”

Kyria stamped a foot in impatience as the Equestrian women all circled around Lero, some sitting, some standing.

“From here on out, you must NEVER thoughtlessly refer to yourselves as ‘ponies’ or ‘equines’ or ‘mares’ among the locals. Instead, while we’re in public, you’ll always want to call yourself ‘human’ and ‘woman.’ Otherwise, we’ve defeated much of the purpose of this disguise.”

The girls all looked between themselves. “Fair enough,” said Lyra, turning to her fellow Equestrians. “And on that note, we should also try not to call to our stallion a ‘stallion.’”

Lero nodded.

“Remember; the purpose of these disguises are so you can pass yourselves off as women of Earth. Therefore, we should plan for what happens if we run into people who’ll ask to hear your story of your Earth lives, the way we heard Kyria’s story.’

He grinned at the horned woman from where she stood near the back.

‘They may ask you what your favorite movies from Earth were, or who the President of the United States was when you got captured, or if you still remember the taste of a Bacon McDouble from McDonald’s.” He warned them.

Already, they were giving him blank looks, and looking worriedly between themselves

“Some of these people are bad news: snoops and informants looking to sniff out liars and rat us out to the Fae Lords. Others might be more innocent; homesick souls who’re just hungry to hear news of Earth. Either way, ladies; rather than cook up some convoluted false identities for you to memorize, your cover story boils down to three magical words: I can’t remember.”

Like a comedian he had once seen, Lero turned his body to the left, playacting the part of a questioner. “What did you used to do for a job?”

Then Lero pivoted to the right, answering his own question, “I can’t remember.”

He stepped back to the left. “Are you Jewish? Christian? Atheist?”

Most of the girls’ faces quirked at those weird-sounding words.

“I can’t remember.”

They chuckled at his delivery.

“‘Were you American or Canadian or British or what?’ ‘I can’t remember.’ ‘Are Palestine and Israel still at each others’ throats in the Middle East?’ ‘I can’t remember.’”

But then Lyra raised a hand and asked, “You think they’d really buy that?”

“Absolutely,” he told her, more seriously. Lero’s eyes flashed blue as the Lost took over and continued to explain.

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen captives that had become so absorbed into their changed life that they have genuinely forgotten what it is to actually be human. There was one man, I believe he was made into his lord’s huntsman, that spent all his time walking around on all fours. He barked and snarled and looked too much like a dog. There were others who were turned into living lamps and became the embodiment of fire, or some other element. Those ones are the worst to see.”

The Lost’s voice took on a somber tone. “How can you go back to a normal life after living as a tree? Or a bank of snow?” He sighed. “It’s actually an all-too-common tale around these parts.”

“For real?!” Rarity interrupted, wholly stunned. “T… there are actually Fae Lords who’d force human beings to go about in a four-legged way for so long, they really WOULD forget how to walk upright? And use their hands?”

“I wouldn’t put it past some of them.” Kyria finally spoke up from the back. “The Fae are cruel scumballs. Now, are you going to help me get my crap outside or not?!”

Lyra grabbed a bag and started to head to the ladder that led up to the surface. “No,” said Kyria, “not that way.”

At everyone’s confused look, Kyria moved beside a rickety old cabinet and pulled at a corner. The furniture moved, scraping along the dirt floor, and revealed a hidden tunnel dug right out of the earth wall, just tall enough to walk.

“It pays to have a back door in these parts,” she said. “Now then.” Kyria walked over to Twilight, taking her lavender hands in her own. “I need you to do something for me, okay, hon?”

Twilight blinked. “Um, okay?”

Kyria gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “I know you’re having a really hard time here. You seem like one of those egghead types, what with all the analysing and whatnot, and I can tell this place is really messing with your notions of reality and all that junk.”

Twilight nodded her head slowly. “Yeah, just a bit.”

“That being said, please, please, please promise me something,” asked Kyria, anxiously biting her lip. “Please don’t freak out?”

Twilight eyed her. “Why would-?”

“Just promise, okay?”

“...okay?”

Kyria smiled and gave a small, peppy bounce. “Sweet! Okay, let’s get this load out of here.” And with that, she was off down the tunnel, leaving an increasingly worried Twilight to follow her.

Lero couldn’t exactly say how long the tunnel was. He had tried counting his steps but soon found himself distracted by the glowing fungi or the distant sound of dripping water or the curious chalk symbols the lined some sections of the tunnel. Or especially that he was walking alongside five ladies who’d been ponies, just this morning. Before he realised it, the tunnel had ended and he was outside again.

“...What?” came a small voice from beside him.

The group has suddenly found themselves in the center of a snow covered swamp. They were standing on a small island, under a gigantic willow tree. The tree’s canopy hid most of the island from sight, including a small, crudely constructed dock and barge. Kyria walked to the end of the dock and with a dented old lighter, lit a small glass lantern.

She looked back at the gawking group and smiled. “Welcome to the Frozen Marshes,” she said, holding her arms out wide..

Twilight whimpered slightly and Lero held her hand. But she did not freak out.

Author's Notes:

Hey folks!

Sorry for the delay. I know I said that I would be posting this last week, but that annoying thing called life got in the way again.

A few notes:

- “Piroshky Piroshky” is a real place, right on Pike's Place in Seattle. And yes, it has the best pastries I've ever had. If you're ever in the area, drop by and pick something up.

- "phouka" (poo-ka) is an Irish shape-shifting spirit, usually taking the form of a horse. Looks like Kyria made a pretty sound call.

- "aes sidhe" (aes - shee), literally "the people of the mounds", were another Irish spirit. In my head canon, the aes sidhe are another name for the True Fae, the Lords and Ladies of Arcadia.

So what are your thoughts? Like the girls' new bodies? Most of them were inspired by Changeling, but Twilight's was my own creation. Extra cookies for those of you that can correctly name their new seemings and kiths!

Saw something else you liked? Maybe something you didn't agree with? Leave a comment and let me know! Also, one more thing: you all see that little green thumbs up button? I would greatly appreciate it if you decided to go ahead and give that little guy a click. Just saying.

See you next time!