It has to be one of those days, when ponies were out for your blood.

Now, that wouldn’t really bother David, who was a generally logical guy. It was times like this that he supposed he could have been dreaming, or that his imagination had suddenly gotten very active and… real.

Still, there were a number of plausible explanations for the fact that he was in a world of fantastical creatures that all seem to want a piece of him.

No, not in the figurative manner.

In the literal sense.

David, one of over seven billion humans on a small planet, was a mythical creature.

No, not on his world, but rather on another world completely.

In Oxley’s Equestrian Bestiary: A Comprehensive Catalogue of Creative Creatures, the term ‘human’ is nestled between ‘huntsman spider’ and the ‘huggergerlurgh’. The huntsman spider was deemed too frighteningly hairy to be a possible creature. The huggergerlurgh was suspected to exist within the Hayseed Swamps. It was aptly named, due to the fact that the victims could only say ‘huggergerlurgh’ after contact. Unfortunately, this also meant that no one could say where exactly in the Hayseed swamp it lived, or even what it looked like. Most ponies avoided the Swamps all together, just to be safe.

A ‘human’, as defined by Oxley’s, is a creature with mainly non-threatening features. It has stubby claws with no sharp nails, it has soft pink skin bare of fur or coat. It sports a fanciful tuft of hair on its head. It is said to be a gentle creature, but will run away when threatened.

They say a lock of its mythical hair will grant you everlasting luck.

They say its mere touch will cure a pony of any ailment.

Oh, and if you drink its blood you become immortal.

Now for most individuals, being a mythical creature isn’t something that happens easily. David was caught between the hydraulic press of Fate and Chance. Fate did not like Chance, and the feeling was very mutual. Even Death would rather steer clear of cataclysmic contentions that Fate and Chance liked to play around with. David was just an innocent bystander that happened to get caught at the wrong paragraph in the wrong book.

Let me explain.

Deep below the heaving bowels of the Ends of Time, there lies a crackling star suffused with energy that is not exactly charged. It has something to do with the transient nature of existence, and is a force more metaphysical than physical. Despite the fact that the outer layer was more of a concept than a physical entity, everybody liked to refer to it as charged due to the way that it crackled and snaked around the surface of the star in sinuous streams. Though the surface was inimical to all forms of life, there were inhabitants that lived within the massive construct. Inhabitants that vigilantly attended to their task, so much like a lackadaisical student in a prim and proper private establishment.

Appearing to work hard, but hardly working.

It is true that the work wasn’t strenuous, or indeed anything of supreme importance to the fabric of reality, but it did concern the lives of mortals. For this reason, the dwellers of this charged star oversaw the records with a steady eye and steadier appendages.

At least they had for the first millennia or two. Now they just looked busy until the Auditor left.

Inhabitants of the star do not sport limbs, or even have faces. At least, not in the traditional sense. The dwellers preferred the amorphous blob of unrealised potential as their container. Telling if one of them was upset or happy, was baffling to say the least, even amongst other dwellers. So most dwellers drifted from one side of the star to the other with barely a glance at one another. It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, they had kept appearances, sporting fashions of various mixtures of mortal beings taken from miscellaneous records. You couldn’t blame them; it was fashion.

Mundane practicality is all the rage now.

Secant was a dweller within this supermassive structure. She enjoyed the whimsy of peering into the lives of the mortals housed in these records. The role of beings such as Secant would be to observe, and not to interfere. That sat fine with Secant, for she was one to do assigned tasks without complaint… or even much wit. But depth of thought was not what was most prized in this organisation, so Secant performed admirably in the eyes of her superiors.

The charged star housed the Registry of Mortals. The Registry was an impressive library that catalogued the chronology of all mortal lives. The index itself spanned infinitely in a direction that had to be curved back in ten dimensional space just so the dwellers could find the records lost within the vast shelves of the charged star. The Registry wasn’t often accessed from the outside, but it remained a curiosity to those predisposed to the contents. Secant was not one to query perusing individuals about their intentions so as long as they had the authorisation. If they did, then they were allowed to look up what they liked and it was not her place to interfere.

Still, it had been a while since anyone—or anything—had visited.

Even the Auditor was late for his appointment, and that had been booked a few millennia ago.

So it came as much of a surprise when Secant received orders from a larger, heavy-set stellar-dweller. A towering, glowering behemoth that spoke in booming tones, with an aura of imposing authority. He gruffly told her there needed to be an amendment within paragraph 7,219,403 of volume 8,204,512,214.

Secant gasped.

An amendment was a serious matter. Thinking about it—a state that was not oft visited by her personally—would break Secant into cold sweat if the dweller had the glands for it. Thinking was dangerous. Secant knew this because Tangent had burst into primeval energy when confronted with the Truth of All Things. An amendment could bring you dangerously close to the Truth.

And no one wanted that.

Even Fate thought twice of the endeavour to change the Registry. The order, Secant decided, must come from very high up indeed. So instead of her usual measured pace, Secant frantically drifted past the stacks of paper annals, digitised copies and chemical records, to reach a very particular shelf.

On it was a simple ornate carving in the mahogany wood bearing a word that had long since expired.

A friendly ethereal being might recognise the language and tell you that it spelled out ‘Earth’.

One that was more of a stickler for the finer points of the ancient language might point out that it was more like ‘ball of dirt’. Aptly named, for the world had mostly started out that way. To all concerned, it wasn’t an inventive name.

Nevertheless, such peculiarities didn’t bother Secant, who was busy trying to free volume 8,204,512,214. The hefty tome was very traditionally bound in both leather and a super-dense material that resembled rubber, but was made from condensed dark matter. The covers and the form the records changed with the ages, and it just so happened that the fashion was anachronistic finishes at the time.

Finally managing to work it out more than halfway from the shelf, Secant took a short break, eyeing the volume with a mixture of disguised frustration. Disguised, mainly for the fact that Secant did not have facial features to manage such a look.

The weight, which you would be forgiven for attributing to gravity, was in fact loaded with the metaphysical burden of the many lives etched on the supple parchment. The volume, Secant knew, would be no lighter if it were kept in a simple silicon crystal. As such, Secant was glad, for some inhabitants of the charged star had fallen victim to particularly dense records falling through the insubstantial floors that made up this reality.

It should be noted that such floors was made of the same whimsical material that prevented the charged surface of the star from leaking in and burning everything alive. Not that Secant was worried about it, though the floor looked insubstantial, it definitively reflected an intensity that belied its true nature. Which was to hold things up, and to hold things back. What it decided to hold up was not something Secant would question.

That was a job for Audit personnel.

Whenever such an event happened, Secant would pity the resident responsible for the record, and the mortals within it. No being knows what happens when a record touches the charged surface of the star, but Secant thought that the erasure of all mortals written within the record could not possibly be a good feeling. For the resident, or the mortals concerned for that matter.

Finally, Secant managed to work out the volume. Drifting to the usual spot beside ancient tablets bearing the descriptions of mortals from volume 2,060—Secant’s favourite volume—the Resident tapped her inscriptive device on the tabular surface of a raven. The raven squawked and shifted a little, but Secant didn’t complain, for ravens made the best writing desks.

In a decisive gesture, Secant changed a word within the Registry, then sat back, admiring the results.

She closed the volume with a resounding boom.

Or at least, there would have been a large boom if sound could be carried in this vacuum. Unfortunately, it did not, so impressive effort was expended without much to show for it. Secant looked around, then mentally shrugged and stared at the volume, realising that she had to replace the volume back on its shelf. With a mental sigh, Secant hefted the volume and made her way back to the archival shelves.

Though the effort of changing one word in the Registry of Mortals wouldn’t seem like a significant event to Secant, the effect was certainly felt by an innocent human working at the airport of Terminal 691…

—————

David was a nervous fellow. He was prone to wringing his hands and biting his lips. His manager, a tanned Brazilian with enough muscles to outdo a local gym, was a very tolerant chap, but he thought it rather disappointing that one should lose his own shoes in the process of walking from one side of the airport to the other.

The only thing that kept him from being fired was David’s propensity to effortlessly manage the logs and records of every security personnel within Airport Terminal 691. All six hundred of them, including the taxi drivers that sometimes visit on rotation. David was useful, but only if you caught him before he went looking for his vagariously misplaced valuables.

David is a smart guy, his manager thought, but he’s definitely lacking something.

Over the radio, the manager spoke, “Would Mr. Collins please report to the East Wing security booth?”

When he made his way back, the manager would offer him a glass. It’d be nice to give the chap a stiff drink at the end of a long shift. Given how nervous the man was, it’d do him good.

David heard the radio of course, but he was caught in a very strange feeling. He wanted to step left, but his body was in the middle of turning right. Little did he know, his record had been changed. Not in the past; that was never much of a problem, he would just have a memory lapse. Things like that happened all the time. No, David was fated to always step left, but a recent change in the Registry had prompted him to turn right. The conflict had to be resolved.

Normally, such an amendment would pose no problems of compliance from the mortal in question. He would turn right and that would be the end of it. However, David was having one of those days. A day where his mind would stubbornly refuse to cooperate, and his body would pay the price of it. His mind, not willing to give concession to its prescriptive fate, forced his leg to jerk to the left.

Three things happened.

One, spacetime ripped, interrupting an argument between two individuals on the other side of the airport.

Two, David’s mind regretted its poorly-timed decision, and apologised for it.

Three, David stepped through a rift in his universe.

As he was swallowed by a literal hole in the universe, David could only think of one word to summarise his circumstances.

Bugger, he thought sullenly.

——————

David thought he saw an octopus for a moment, but it turned out to be a sentient seaweed. It was chasing something, but it stopped and seemed to catch him staring at it. The human was glad he didn’t stay there for long, since the seaweed looked hungry, and drifted towards him with seaweed arms outstretched…

In a way, David was very lucky. Reality didn’t know what to do with a human displaced from the records. Technically, he shouldn’t exist, but his existence logically negated that fact. So reality had trouble resolving the conflict. While reality decided what to do with the human, David flittered in and out of existence, stuck in a Schrödinger-like state of wave-like probability spanning the multiverse. He saw things no human should ever have to see, and was possibly a part of every major event in known chronology of mortal history.

He saw the birth of a universe.

He saw a planet seem to implode.

He saw a circle of amorphous blobs congregated around a book.

He thought he saw his own birth.

When David was starting to comprehend the nature of existence, and getting dangerously close to Truth, reality finally gave up on David’s conundrum and dropped him in the universe he currently floated around in. There were a few problems with this.

David realised he was several thousand feet in the air above the ground.

He realised that from the intricate city buildings floating on clouds, he was not back home.

And finally, though David did not know this, he was about to be in grave, grave danger.

——————

Soarin was in the middle of lunch when he thought he heard something between the sound of a hawk screeching and an elephant being strangled go past his window. Of course, when he snapped his head around to see what had flashed past he couldn’t make out what it was that made that Tartarus-bound noise. He glanced at his pie, then at the window, then sighed and made his way down to the window.

Probably one of the yahoos at Flight Camp torturing another poor soul.

He dashed back quickly to his table and downed the remaining glass of orange juice with his pie.

After all, it would be a waste.

——————

Coincidentally, Spitfire was on her way to the Flight Camp training grounds when a vaguely black and white thing, followed by a blue and black thing punched a hole in the cloud she was about to step on.

“Soarin?!” she shrieked in surprise, and with blazing fast reflexes dived straight after the pair.

——————

Soarin glanced to his side.

“Oh hey Spitfire,” he greeted as she pulled alongside him. He wasn’t surprised the Wonderbolt’s Ace could catch up to him so quickly. He nodded ahead. “We have a stone.”

Spitfire nodded and peered ahead. Luckily she was carrying her goggles with her or the wind would have made it impossible to see ahead at the speed she was going at.

“Yeah, I see… it,” she shouted back over the wind. “What the heck is that thing?!”

Soarin shrugged as much as he could in the air.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But at the rate of its fall, we’ll catch up with it just before it hits the ground.”

“What’s it doing up here?!” Spitfire demanded.

“We’ll find out when we rescue it, I guess!”

In a coordinated pincer-like manoeuvre Soarin and Spitfire rounded around the unknown creature and pulled up hard. Their wings strained hard to try and arrest their descent.

“What the heck, this thing weighs a ton!” Soarin exclaimed.

“Just pull! Put your wings into it!” Spitfire shot back.

Below, the sparkling rivers of Saddle Lake drew alarmingly bigger by the second.

“We’re not going to make it!” Soarin yelled.

Spitfire rapidly assessed the situation. Split seconds later, she came to decision.

“Try to angle us off and we’ll roll it off. 2-1 formation then emergency cradle, got it?”

Soarin nodded. “Roger that,” he acknowledged.

Pulling the now silent creature, Spitfire angled herself below it, while Soarin hugged it from the top. His wings splayed out, catching the air and dragging them, but they weren’t slowing fast enough.

“Brace!” Spitfire screamed.

Soarin squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the dull thump knock the breath out of his lungs. Instinctively, he tried to draw breath, but water, not air filled his lungs. In a panic, he coughed, letting the rest of his precious supply go with the drifting bubbles.

Oh no, he thought as he watched his lifeline float away from him. He frantically kicked aside from the creature, fighting his way to the surface, his grip loosening.

Breaking the surface with the creature in tow, he wheezed a mouthful of glorious air. Water streamed from his muzzle and nostrils. He cast around for a familiar flash of red.

“Spitfire!” he screamed. “Spitfire!”

With a muttered oath, he broke the surface, beating hard with his wings as he did. The creature was heavier than ever with the water weighing them both down. Straining his outstretched arms, Soarin tugged the unconscious creature to the bank, turning it on its side. After making sure the creature wouldn’t drift away, Soarin immediately cast around the crash site, looking for Spitfire.

“Spitfire!” he called out once more. Then he saw it. A flash of red and orange among the blue. Instantly he was diving.

“Ugh!” Spitfire was nowhere near as heavy as the creature, but she dragged just as much in the water. Grunting, Soarin pulled at the last of his energy reserves and breached the water. He dragged Spitfire next to the creature and laid her down too. With quick movements, he placed his ears close to her muzzle.

“No, no, no!” he couldn’t hear the telltale sign of life. His hooves pumped at her chest.

“One, two, three…” He pushed hard, feeling some of her ribs crack under the force of his inexperienced thrusts. “Come on… twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty!”

Two breaths, no response.

“Come on, Spitfire!” He pumped again. Mouthing the count as his own breathing became ragged with desperation. He pumped and breathed, pumped and breathed, losing count a couple of times when he checked her pulse.

“Darn it, Spitfire,” he growled. “We need you.”

Just when Soarin was beginning to despair, one of his breaths was interrupted by a heavenly noise.

Cough

Spitfire spewed water as her lungs kickstarted again.

Gasp

“Oh thank Celestia,” Soarin said in relief, turning her over to let the last of the water drain from her lungs. Spitfire heaved and expelled more fluid, giving small racking coughs. He closed his eyes briefly, letting the anxiety of the past few minutes drain away slowly. Then his relief turned to worry, when he realised he had forgotten something.

He glanced up to check on the mysterious creature.

It was gone.

—————

David had woken up to the sound of grunts and shuffling.

What’s that sound?

David turned his head to see one of the most ridiculous images he had ever witnessed. Two… horse-like things were in front of him. The blueish one was turned away from him, but it looked like it was beating up the other. The horse-thing reared up of its hooves and brought it pounding down on the other. At first, he thought he was witnessing a bizarre ritual of some sort. Then he realised with relief, upon watching it give the other a breath of life, that it was probably performing some form of CPR… and that he was sopping wet.

Okay… I’m dreaming. I’m hallucinating. Maybe there was an accident in the airport and I’m close to dead. David thought. He shifted in his position. If I am dead, shouldn’t I be meeting my maker? He shifted experimentally again.

The blue one took no notice of him. Other red one was still unconscious.

Alright, I’m going to make a break for it.

With that thought in mind, David carefully levered himself up into the seated position and then carefully got up. He thought the gravel was unbearably gritty and loud underneath his feet, but the other pony didn’t seem to notice the sound. Then David simply walked away, looking back several times to make sure he wasn’t followed. There wasn’t a defined path ahead, but at least there was grass underneath and open fields. David was conscious that he was so exposed out in the open, so he spurred himself onwards at a pace that was not quite a shambling run.

Ahead, there were trees on the left and patchwork fields that plated the hills and valleys of the plains ahead. David briefly considered walking through the forest, but something told him that being lost in the forest would have been worse than making his way through the plains. Well he could walk along the edge of the forest, there was no harm in that. The trees would provide some measure of cover and David could finally flip out without being near weird creatures in freaky colours.

“What the heck is going on?” he muttered to himself, wringing his hands. “Okay, okay. First thing, check what you have. Call home.” He patted down his dripping clothes, fumbling around his jacket to reach his phone. A blank screen greeted him.

“Great,” he muttered. “Knew that would be too good to be true.”

He probably wouldn’t be able to get cellular reception here anyway.

“That would be way too easy.”

David took a couple more steps, but stopped when something like a cross between a quiet cough and a dog’s whine came from… behind his head?

“What?”

David turned around, it sounded close.

Gigantic green eyes.

“Oh holy—” David choked off the words as he stumbled back, arms flailing as he windmilled to regain his footing. He failed, falling flat on his backside. “Oww! What the heck, you have wings? You can fly?!” He tried to scramble away, but the blue one cut him off. It was clear it wasn’t going to let David get away.

It came closer.

The horse locked eyes with him and snorted. It whinnied and stamped a hoof. Was it trying to say something?

“Uhh, good horse?”

Then the horse did something strange. It reared up on its hooves and with an amazing feat of dexterity... pointed back to where they came from.

David started. From the way it stood there with pleading eyes, it was clear that the equine didn’t, and hadn’t, meant him any harm. His cheeks flushed with the shame of having run away. He made eye contact with the horse and slowly nodded. It looked relieved. With exaggerated gestures it looked like it was motioning him to follow. David nodded again. He was starting to get the hang of it.

With a couple glances to make sure he was following, the short blue horse lead him back to the river, pointing frantically at the red and orange one. It made some frantic gestures, but David shook his head and shrugged, hoping that the gesture would translate through.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, weird creature-thing,” David muttered.

The horse seemed to understand though, and paused, face scrunched up very humanely in thought.

It pointed to David, then pointed slowly to the orange one, then made an impertinent whinny.

David cocked his head.

The horse shook its head and placed a hoof to its face in a suspiciously similar movement to a facepalm. It pointed once again to David, then to its eyes and then to the orange one again.

“Oh,” David said. “You want me to watch her?” He mimed the action and gave a nod.

The blue one looked relieved and made a ‘wait here’ motion with its hooves again.

David nodded once more.

He sat himself next to the orange horse and watched her.

Satisfied that he had understood his gestures, the blue one leaped into the air, spreading its wings and leaving David open-mouthed in astonishment. He’d seen it float, but the blistering speed of its exit made it seem more like a fighter jet than a flying horse. Wait, there was a name for that, in Greek mythology, the one Hercules rode. What was its name?

The horse to his side nickered gently. David glanced over, studying the many hairs that stood up on its coat. He reached out and gently touched the horse, realising it had wings just like its partner. With gentle fingers, he patted it on the head, trying his best to comfort it. Hopefully it wasn’t dying or anything. Apart from her laboured breathing, he couldn’t see anything wrong with it. As he stroked its mane, its breathing slowed and a sort of smile seemed to grace its lips.

Alone on emerald grass that banked a beatific river, with clear blue skies—

Wait, what the heck was that?!

Just above them was the clouded architecture that David had spotted when he fell. David gaped as he slowly discounted the fact that it wasn’t his imagination. He had been falling. Which means… David’s brow furrowed as he put two and two together. These creatures had saved his life. David wasn’t the most sociable person, nor the most situationally aware, but he knew that when something saved your life, that wasn’t a debt easily repaid.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he muttered.

——————

Soarin flew as fast as he could to Ponyville. He had stopped briefly in Cloudsdale to alert the pegasi paramedics, but he had to get to Ponyville General. Though Cloudsdale had a hospital, most of the injuries treated there were more of the wing sprain, light injury department, and most expensive equipment were hardly shipped to the city, given the expense. The closest hospital was Ponyville, and Soarin recalled a certain Academy recruit that was friends with a particularly knowledgeable Princess. The thought of leaving Spitfire alone for any period of time gnawed at his stomach, but he knew he had done the right thing. Besides, it wouldn’t take long for the paramedic pegasi to arrive, and maybe he could find that recruit and figure out how that creature ended up in the air without wings.

With a swoop, he banked near the entrance and galloped into the reception.

“I need to speak to a Doctor, right away!”

Nurse Redheart froze, but recovered quickly. She dropped her forms and made her way to Soarin.

“Doctor Stable is out at the moment, what’s the matter?”

Soarin bit his lip. “Spitfire’s been hurt, and she’s taken in a lot of water. I tried CPR and she coughed up a lot of water.”

“Did you leave her alone?”

“Of course,” he snapped. “I had to get help! There are two pegasi paramedics on their way now!”

Nurse Redheart quickly held up placating hooves. “I understand, sir, I’m just trying to get ahold of the situation.”

Soarin put a stranglehold on his fears, forcing them back down his throat in an uncomfortable lump. “Yes, sorry,” Soarin finally choked out, hanging his head.

Nurse Redheart nodded genially. “How did she take in so much water? Any blunt force injuries?”

“One to the head or back, I’m not sure. I’ve told the paramedics, I think I might have cracked a rib doing CPR.”

Nurse Redheart cocked her head. “Could be serious, maybe some complications. She was breathing, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I better schedule an X-ray before the Doctor gets here, and I’ll go looking for him.”

Soarin called out to the Nurse as she spoke quickly to a couple of other ponies at the reception. One nodded and headed off to radiology.

“What can I do, Nurse?”

Nurse Redheart glanced up from a form she was trying to fill out.

“I might need to be here when Spitfire arrives. Can you find Doctor Stable, he’s supposed to be at Minuette’s giving each other an examination, can you find her?”

“Where would that be?”

A voice called out from the reception door. “I can do that.”

Soarin glanced back to see who the owner of the raspy voice belonged to. It reminded him of Spitfire.

“Recruit Dash, reporting for duty,” Rainbow said with a salute. “I saw you racing in here without stopping. Sorry, I had to see what was going on.”

“No need for that, Miss. Dash, we’re not in the Academy,” Soarin replied with no small measure of relief. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to find you. Spitfire’s been hurt. Can you help?”

Rainbow nodded immediately. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

“Thanks, Miss Dash.”

Rainbow flushed. “Just call me Rainbow, like you said, we’re not at the Academy.”

Then she was off, with Soarin straining to keep up with her sudden launch out of the door.

——————

They found Doctor Stable halfway through a dental checkup.

“An injured pegasus, near drowning? Alright, I have to take my leave. Sorry, Minuette, another time.”

“Don’t worry, we were almost done anyway. A patient is more important,” Minuette replied.

“Thanks,” Doctor Stable said, and then he was out the door, following Rainbow and Soarin to the hospital.

When they got back, the two paramedics had just arrived with Spitfire in a sling.

“We’ve taken the precaution of immobilizing her,” a green-haired paramedic reported. “Where should we put her?”

“In the emergency room, have you—”

“—Prepped the X-ray?” Nurse Redheart interrupted. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Good, let’s see if she’s okay.” With that the Doctor followed the two landed pegasi as they headed into the hospital, guided by Nurse Redheart.

Soarin piped up. “What—”

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing you can do now, just let us handle it,” Doctor Stable called back. “You can wait in the reception, we’ll let you know if there’s anything wrong.”

Soarin slunk back to a chair, feeling the day’s exertions slowly creep up on him. Rainbow looked at him with sympathetic eyes, but didn’t say anything. For the second time that day, he remembered the mysterious creature.

“Wait!” he exclaimed. “They left it at the river!”

Rainbow cocked her head. “Left what?”

Soarin rose from his seat, but Rainbow pushed him down.

“Captain Soarin,” Rainbow said, faltering slightly when Soarin looked at her sharply. Rainbow gritted her teeth with determination and ploughed on. “You’re acting Captain now that Spitfire is out of action. I can tell you’re exhausted. Just tell me about what you left behind, and I’ll go fetch it.”

Soarin sank back in his chair. “Yes, that’s right. Sorry. I’m just—”

“—Worried about Spitfire, I know,” Rainbow replied gently. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll take care of it.”

Soarin took a breath. “Yeah, yeah… There was a creature we encountered that led to this whole mess. We don’t know what it is, but it appeared in front of us. Spitfire and I got hurt trying to save it. We left it near the river at Saddle Lake. Listen, you have a couple of friends that know about strange creatures and stuff, right? I remember you talking about it, could you...?” He left the request hanging in the air.

Rainbow nodded quickly. “I’ll get it done, Soarin, don’t you worry. Just rest.”

Soarin nodded and closed his eyes briefly. “Thanks, Rainbow Dash…” It occurred to him that he should mention something to Rainbow. “Hey make sure—” he began, but glanced around. “You don’t hurt it…”

Rainbow had already left.

——————

“Twilight!”

Twilight froze halfway across the chamber.

“Rainbow?!” she exclaimed, then her eyes narrowed. “I’m glad you used the door this time.”

“What? Never mind that. We have to go somewhere. There’s this weird creature, and Spitfire’s hurt and I promised Soarin, so let’sgonownotimetowastecomeon!”

Twilight held up both of her hooves.

“Woah, woah, Bring it down to a gallop! I couldn’t understand half of that sentence, Rainbow! Slow down.”

Rainbow pranced on her hooves, antsy with the need to take off.

“Soarin came into Ponyville, telling us that Spitfire’s been hurt and—”

“Soarin and Spitfire, you mean from the Wonderbolts?” Twilight interrupted.

“Duh, who else?!” Rainbow growled. “Can I finish? This is really important!”

Twilight nodded apologetically. “Alright, sorry, continue.”

“So Soarin said there was this mysterious creature and they were hurt trying to save it or something. Could be dangerous—hey where are you going?”

“I’m getting Oxley’s,” Twilight replied.

“What?”

“Oxley’s Equestrian Bestiary: A Comprehensive Catalogue of Creative Creatures,” Twilight explained patiently. “It’s a comprehensive guide on weird creatures.”

Rainbow groaned and gripped her mane painfully. “Twi’, we don’t have time to read a book!”

Ignoring Rainbow, Twilight grabbed the book and shoved it into her saddlebags. “There’s always time to read a book,” Twilight insisted. “Besides, it’ll come in handy.”

Rainbow gritted her teeth. “Fine! Come on, let’s go capture a critter.” Then Rainbow was out the door in a flash.

Twilight sighed, but followed her lightning-fast companion. She wondered what the rush was all about. Spitfire was getting care, and they were just finding some kind of animal or something, right?

—————

“Ah, I think that’s it.”

Twilight squinted at the black and white figure and then turned to Rainbow. “You sure?”

“Ever seen anything like it?” Rainbow shot back.

“No… That’s why this book will come in handy.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Or we could just talk to it.”

Twilight shot her hoof out a fraction of a second too late. “Rainbow, wait—”

“Hey, you!”

With a sigh, Twilight followed her friend.

The creature looked up curiously. It pointed a finger to itself.

“Yeah you!” Rainbow continued. “What did you do to Spitfire?!”

It shrugged, shaking its head.

“Hey don’t deny it!” Rainbow pressed. “Soarin said they got hurt trying to save you! Why’d you do it?”

“Rainbow…” Twilight warned.

The creature seemed to get flustered. It grunted something and muttered something unintelligible.

“What?” Rainbow said.

“I don’t think it understands you,” Twilight interjected. “See look? It’s still shaking its head.”

Rainbow glanced back and forth between Twilight and the strangely-clothed creature.

“But anything that can speak can speak in Equestria.”Rainbow replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Besides, why would you bother dressing your pet in clothes?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Pinkie does.”

“But that’s Pinkie,” she retorted. Seeing Twilight continue to raise an eyebrow, she relented.

“Fine,” she added, “maybe it got lost from its owner or something?”

“It does seem remarkably intelligent,” Twilight said, glancing sidelong at it. “It knows we’re talking.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Well how do we bring it back? It looks like it weighs a ton.”

Twilight nodded thoughtfully. “We probably can’t carry it. Maybe there’s something in Oxley’s?” Twilight lay down on the grass and opened the book.

“What? You’re reading here?!” Rainbow exclaimed in exasperation.

“Well… yes,” Twilight mumbled, flipping through the pages. “I mean, the creature looks okay and it doesn’t seem dangerous. It’s just been staring at us so far. We just need to get it to Ponyville before dark.”

“We’ll be here forever!” Rainbow said.

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Could we carry it?” Rainbow offered, then immediately discarded the thought. “Nah, it looks way too heavy to lug all the way to Ponyville.”

“Well if you’re out of ideas, I think I’m going to keep reading,” Twilight stated.

Rainbow huffed, but eventually subsided. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the creature and stayed standing while Twilight settled in to skim through the book.

After a few minutes, Rainbow twitched.

“I don’t trust it,” she announced.

Twilight rolled her eyes, then glanced up. “Well it probably doesn’t trust you as much. I think your glare is scaring it. At this rate, we’ll never get it to follow us back to Ponyville. If only we had somepony good with animals…”

A sudden thought struck Twilight.

“Wait, why didn’t you ask Fluttershy to come with you?” the alicorn asked.

Rainbow shrugged. “No offence, Twi’, but I did. She wasn’t at her cottage.”

“Oh, well, I’m flattered I was your second choice.”

Rainbow coughed and looked away.

“Actually I went to Pinkie, but she was busy with cake orders.”

Twilight frowned. “Well I’m glad that I was third…” Twilight trailed off at the awkward silence. “No, really?”

“Applejack was busy with her farm work,” Rainbow added.

Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “But at least I was—hey, come on! Even Rarity?!” Flustered, Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but then noticed that Rainbow was smiling at her.

Rainbow’s cheeky grin had Twilight shaking her head.

“Oh, ha, ha,” Twilight muttered. “You got me. Nice pull on my reins.”

Rainbow burst out laughing. “Oh you should have seen the look on your face!” After her chuckles died down, Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “So?” she prompted.

“So what?”

“So did you find anything?”

Twilight gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Well if you weren’t distracting me…” Then her eyes shot back a paragraph. “Wait! I think I found something.” Her eyes scanned forward as she gasped softly.

“What?” Rainbow pressed. “What is it?!”

“It can’t be…” Twilight murmured. “They don’t exist…”

“What doesn’t exist, Twi’? Hey! Tell me.”

“A…” Twilight trailed off, her eyes flickering back and forth between the book and the creature.

“A what?!” Rainbow shrieked, the suspense was killing her.

“A human…”

Rainbow leaped back. “WHAT?!”

Twilight glanced up at Rainbow.

“You know what a human is?” she asked, looking at the confused creature with different eyes. Was this really the legendary creature that Oxley’s described?

Rainbow’s eyes were equally affixed on the mystical being.

“Yeah,” she said. “Daring Do mentions something about them in her novels. But they’re legends, right? They’re not real.”

Twilight got up slowly and leaned in closer to Rainbow.

“Do you think it knows we’re talking about it?” she hissed in a low voice.

“Maybe?” Rainbow whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know! What did Daring Do say about humans?”

“That they’re legendary creatures with awesome powers. Something like, ‘they were once hunted for something’? I can’t remember! It was a long time ago since I read that book! What does your book say?”

Twilight bit her lip. “Oxley’s says that a human—” she stared uneasily at the creature “—can cure a pony of any ailment!”

“How does it do that?”

“I don’t know, I got the abridged version!”

Rainbow stared at the thick tome. It was easily over a thousand pages.

“That’s the abridged version? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Twilight stomped a hoof. “Well it was still useful!”

Rainbow held up her hooves in a gesture of peace.

“Alright,” she admitted. “ It was kind of useful. So if we can bring it back, maybe we can help Spitfire?”

Twilight shot a hoof out, thankfully fast enough this time. Rainbow stopped halfway, irked.

“Hold on, you don’t even know what a human can do!” Twilight warned. “For all you know it could breathe fire, or have immense magical powers that could incinerate you with a single touch!”

Rainbow blinked at Twilight’s saucer-plate eyes.

“Uhhh, yeah. I’m sure it’s ready to destroy us with its vicious claws or something,” Rainbow dismissed with a snort.

Twilight glanced back at the human. The human blinked innocently back. It looked like it was trying to follow their heated discussion and in the process sprained its neck. It was rubbing the back of its neck and staring at them innocently.

“Just a moment ago you said you didn’t trust it,” Twilight added belatedly.

Rainbow pursed her lips and shook her head. “Well,” she said. “I changed my mind.”

Twilight sat back and slowly tucked away Oxley’s in her saddlebags.

“I wonder if…” she started, then trailed off, dismissing the idea she’d had. Trying to teleport it all the way to Ponyville would be infeasible.

“What?” Rainbow said.

“Never mind. How are we going to get it to Ponyville?”

Rainbow paused and looked around at the local flora.

“Hey, what do humans eat?” she asked suddenly.

Twilight’s ears perked up as she considered the idea. “Oh, are we going to lure it with food?”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, you think humans like grass?”

Twilight blinked at Rainbow. “Would you eat raw grass?”

Rainbow chucked away the clump of grass she had pulled from the ground.

“Good point,” she said, crossing her arms and glancing around.

“Yeah,” Rainbow continued. “I’m out of ideas.”

Twilight ran a frustrated hoof through her mane. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, what if we ask it to follow us?” she offered.

Rainbow shook her head. “Yeah I’m pretty sure it doesn’t understand what we’re saying.” To prove her point, Rainbow trotted up to the human and spoke to it.

“Hey,” she said. “Nod if you can understand us.”

The human looked at Rainbow blankly, then shrugged and shook its head. Rainbow glanced back at Twilight with a raised eyebrow.

Twilight blinked. “Well it understands something. Maybe we can use—“ Twilight mimed a few actions.

She pointed to it.

You.

She pointed to herself.

Me.

She mimed lifting with her hoof.

Up.

The human blinked, but slowly nodded and got up on its hind legs. Before, when it was seated, it had seemed pretty small and non-threatening, but when it stood, it towered over Rainbow and Twilight. It was almost the height of Princess Celestia.

“Woah there, you’re… larger than you look,” Rainbow stuttered lamely.

Twilight was just getting used to tilting her head upwards when she acknowledged her friend’s comment.

“Y-Yeah. Wow, that’s big,” she murmured. The alicorn shook her head. She didn’t know what she had expected. She thought it would kind of walk on all four of its limbs.

With exaggerated movements, Twilight again pointed between herself and the human. Then beckoned with a hoof to follow. She trotted a few steps to the right experimentally. To her delight, the human followed after a short moment’s hesitation.

“Excellent!” Twilight exclaimed. “It’s following us!”

Rainbow pumped a hoof in the air.

“Aww yeah! Good thinking Twi’!” she cheered. “Now let’s get back to Ponyville!”

—————

As they headed towards Ponyville, Twilight and Rainbow were unaware of the internal monologue echoing around in David’s mind. From his perspective, two winged horses had come down and took the red-orange one away. Then after waiting over an hour in the same spot, two really colourful horses show up, but one with a horn as well. Then the horned one started reading in front of him, while the other one pulled up a clump of grass and threw it away. Then they stared at him uncomfortably for a while and then finally persuaded him through sign language to follow them.

He wondered again how a journey to find a missing shoe could go so wrong. David glanced at his bare feet. Not that he had any shoes anyway, he’d failed to even find them. He glanced back up. It looked like the two horses were headed towards the fields in the distance. David let out a muffled groan.

His feet were going to hurt like hell.

—————

“Doctor Stable, I don’t understand.”

The Doctor didn’t answer, he ran his hooves over Spitfire’s ribcage.

His bewildered voice filtered through his surgical mask. “I don’t get it! Seven fractures, water in the lungs, and not so much as mild inflammation?! What is this mare made of?”

Nurse Redheart nodded slowly.

“The X-rays clearly show the fractures and her condition coming in was definitely consistent with the diagnosis,” she added. “Not to mention Soarin could swear that he cracked her ribs.”

Doctor Stable shook his head. “Either this mare’s got something special in her, or something got to her before we could.”

“It would seem so, Doctor.”

Doctor Stable tore off his mask and waved in the two nurses on standby.

“Move our patient to observation and alert me if there’s any change in her condition.”

“Yes doctor,” one of them said, and started pushing the gurney.

Nurse Redheart came around. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It could be a medical case study… or perhaps a cause for alarm. Check the patient’s record for anything like this. If there isn’t we’ll have to perform a more thorough investigation,” he said.

Nurse Redheart bobbed her head. “Yes, doctor. I’ll prepare a report to the Princesses?”

Doctor Stable considered it for a moment, then shook his head. He gave her a slight smile.

“Oh well, Ponyville has its own Princess, think we can pass it to her?”

Nurse Redheart chuckled. “Right away, Doctor.”

As Nurse Redheart left the room, Doctor Stable picked up Spitfire’s chart.

“How did you recover so fast?” he murmured. “Tell me your secret.”

Author's Notes:

I think I can wrap this up in about five long chapters. Extended to about ten or so.

Next Chapter: Immortality, how does that work?

As always, my stalwart readers, thanks for reading!

P.S. Some more grammar flubs pointed out by very kind readers, docontra and Radio, thanks!
P.P.S. Some minor stylistic fixes and added some more description. Really grateful for your feedback, all!
P.P.P.S. I've removed some sections and added some minor amendments. Should be a slightly easier read. Sorry you had to sit through my bumbling! Also, let me know if my experiment with scene breaks versus scene transitions were badly executed. I might stick with my standard if it's too awkward.
P.P.P.P.S. More grammar corrected by Syroc. Stylistic corrections and rewording. Also Haysead is Hayseed, because I have an outdated map of Equestria, how embarrassing.
P.P.P.P.P.S. More stylistic changes, very minor.