After subsequently leaving the fashion emporium, Mac decided to take in the local scenery. Mainly focusing on the numerous houses lining the sides of the street.

These were, as he noted, rather consistent in appearance: with thatched straw roofs, and mortar walls. Ponyville was indeed a rather pleasant town, and charmingly primitive. He found himself refreshed by the simple ways, and warm atmosphere. Until, at the end of the street, he was reminded of the crystalline palace that all but dwarfed all other structures in town:

“Almost like a fortress.” He caught himself saying ruefully, as the architecture seemed to stick out like a sore thumb, yet also compliment the town in an odd way.

“That’s the idea of a castle, sugarcube!” said a familiar voice with a heavy, southern drawl.

It was then that he paid heed to an orange mare standing on the other side of the street: she was looking at him with a curious, straightforward smile, and had her head cocked to one side. Her golden hair waved slightly in the breeze, and her iconic stetson was perched on the back of her head. She walked up to him and stuck out a hoof:

“Name's Applejack! But y'all usually call me AJ.” she said, giving him a more 'howdy-do' type of smile. Orion’s voice came crackling over the mike again.

“You’ll want to say ‘howdy’.”

Mac restrained from planting his hoof between his eyes, yet took the advice: smiling awkwardly.

“Am I supposed to say ‘howdy’?”

The orange mare’s green eyes widened with joy as she let out a loud whoop:

“YEEEEEEA-HEE!”

She threw her hat in the air, only to catch it again with a little flair and stick it back on her head. Obviously, Orion had made the right call once more.

“Ah heard you was havin' memory issues, so Ah was wonderin' whether you’d remember anything ‘bout me yet!” She spoke cheerfully, giving him a full-faced grin. Mac just stood there in silence for a minute, smiling oddly.

“Okay,”

Applejack’s smile drooped. “Still not rememberin', huh?”

“Nope. I’m sorry.” He said plainly.

Applejack shook her head sadly, and walked ahead to the palace with a sigh: “Tarnation, you just get to know a guy, and bam! He goes off and gets amnesia... he's even worse than Big Mac...”

Mac couldn’t help letting out a quiet chuckle as he started walking again, wondering how well his alternate self knew these ponies. And, interestingly enough, also how well he did as well. Each pony, each personality, even the colors of their eyes: they all seemed… slightly familiar. They each seemed to just- for lack of a better term -fit with him.

When he got to the castle entrance, Mac cautiously knocked on one of the doors. And, much to his surprise, it opened as soon as his hoof made contact, making him feel both more and less comfortable with just waltzing in. But, as soon as his other hoof made contact with the castle floor, his concentration on semi-stealth was shattered by a piercing voice:

"AMY!"

Suddenly, he was tackled from behind by a flash of pink: and it felt like an anaconda had clung herself around Mac’s neck in a tight hug: knocking the wind out of him.

“I knew you’d come back! I knew you would!” The assaulter squealed with excitement.

Mac turned his head to see that it was a rather peculiar mare- who looked like she was born from a mix of curly fries and pink hair dye -who was clinging to him, and preventing him from exercising his right to breathe. Just when he thought he'd be seeing spots, he once more heard the soothing voice that greeted him to this world: as it calmly spoke to the living pink vice.

“Pinkie, what is it we talked about earlier?”

Almost instantaneously, Pinkie released Mac, and proceeded to brush him off with a hoof.

"Sorry," she offered with a sheepish smile, stepping back enough to let Mac stand with a slight cough.

"It's alright," he assured her as he stood up. He froze when he unexpectedly came face-to-face with a certain attractive, white-coated Pegasus mare once again. Nearly muzzle-to-muzzle. Her long, silky mane was a pale blue, which faded into a glowing aquamarine at the ends. And her chocolate eyes glimmered with gentle care.

“M-Myra?” He guessed slowly, struggling to steady himself from the sudden weak feeling in his knees.

The Pegasus giggled as his stupor. “You remember me?” She asked fondly, brushing her hair back on one side with her hoof:  and fluffing her wings.

Mac stood in a bashful silence for a few seconds, before smiling with a small bow. “With fondness, Myra: my dearest of friends.”

“Smooth.” Orion chuckled.

“Oh, shut up.” Mac growled.

“Well, I'm flattered, to say the least.” Myra sighed in relief, grinning.

“What about me?” Pinkie said, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Say: Bearer of Joy.” Orion said quickly.

“Of course I remember the Bearer of Joy!” Mac said, picking the hyperactive pony up and spinning her around, provoking her to near uncontrollable laughter.

He heard a soft giggle behind him: “Okay, Pinkie, tone it down a little so that we can have a talk with Mac.”

Mac turned, and saw yet another Pegasus approaching. This one was a clear cyan blue, with bright red eyes: and a uniquely prismatic mane. Mac raised an eyebrow at this, and by now he was confident in his ability to make educated guesses.

“Is that the amazing Rainbow Dash?” he shot, emphasizing the name. The mare seemed to appreciate this, as she gave a bright smile, and shifted her weight to one side.

“Nice to know I’m still appreciated around here!” she said, casually dusting her chest with a hoof before checking it for dust. “How’ve you been?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember.” Mac said with a sad shrug.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I heard about your little run-in with my cousin.” Rainbow said cockily.

“It was he who was responsible for the ‘running into’.” Mac quipped: granting everyone a laugh.

“You never change do you?” A merry voice said to the left. Mac looked to see Rarity, Applejack, Spike, Pinkie, and a purple-hued Alicorn that he assumed was Twilight Sparkle, all walking up to him. And Fluttershy trotting up from the side to join them.

Once they got close, Mac saw that Twilight was slightly taller than the rest of them; and her wings were more ornate somehow. Her mane at this point was wrapped up in a little bun, and a small pencil was tucked behind her ear. A pair of fake reading glasses rested on her snout, completing the 'I was just doing some filing' look.

"I wouldn't say that," Mac replied, "a lot can change in a second, let alone an hour."

Twilight quirked her brow at that, but otherwise let her face remain neutral. She looked around, and nodded for them all to follow. Only saying: "There's something I want you to all to see..."

Mac decided on exploring the palace as the seven mares walked off, seeing as how he was clearly welcome. He was about to wave goodbye when he saw that they had stopped, and were looking at him.

"What?"

"You coming?"

Mac wrinkled his brow. "Isn't this something just for you mares?"

As Twilight lifted a hoof to rub her forehead, Mac heard Orion start to chuckle. "Dude, you're being openly invited to hang out with several females, and you're staying behind? Did the orientation come with a lobotomy?"

Mac rolled his eyes with a smile. "No, nor did it come with the additional skill of me being able to read females." He hissed, keeping his voice low.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Orion laughed. Mac was about to respond when Twilight spoke up again:

"Look, I have a feeling this concerns you, too. The Map isn't just showing our marks, it's showing..."

She back at Mac, and froze in place, her eyebrows slowly rising into an expression of concern and bewilderment. “Mac, where is your Cutie Mark?” Mac was puzzled by the panic in her voice, until he once again heard Orion’s voice through the speaker.

“Oops.” The centaur said, giving a nervous laugh. “Could you, uh, check around your rump, please?”

Mac looked down at his flank, and saw was he was expecting: a backside as bare as a young foal’s.

Then it clicked.

'Aw, shoot...'

“I didn’t even consider that.” Orion groaned; “In this world, your Mark is a sign of who you are: it displays either your greatest talent, or the symbol of your--"

"I know what they are!" Mac snapped as Twilight approached. "Care to explain?"

"I'm not sure!" Orion called back, his tone betrayed his nervousness. "I never considered that the portal would not generate one on you...”

He paused for a second, as if thinking. “Here, this might get you out: try staring blankly for a few seconds, and then shout out in agony while holding your head.”

Mac considered this, and with a cry of pain fell out of his chair, causing the group to rush to his side.

“Are you okay?” Rarity gasped.

“Ten to one says he’s faking.” Rainbow snorted, causing Myra to shoot her a look of disbelief.

Mac rubbed his head and sat up. “I-I’ll be alright.” He mumbled, selling it as best he could. “My- my head’s still kind of fuzzy.”

'Vaudeville lineage, don't fail me now!'

“Maybe his shock is finally kicking in?” Spike suggested, bringing some tea in from the next room. “Some of this might help a little.”

“No fooling!” Applejack said, shaking her head. “Y’all better get on home to rest.”

Twilight, however, was still stuck on a single point:

"His Cutie Mark..." She mumbled, "Not one month ago, the Map's first call was Starlight Glimmer, and the stolen Marks. Now, one of our dearest friends comes back from his disappearance: no Mark, and no memory of anything..."

As the Alicorn was stuck in her own mind, Applejack helped Mac to his hooves: and was about to lead him out the door when he decided to speak up.

“Rest’s probably a good idea,” Mac started, “but… I seem to remember someplace called ‘Sugar Corner’, I’d like to go there first.”

The farm pony stared blankly at him for a while, then rolled her eyes and slapped a hoof on her face: “A bakery known for its sugary treats immediately after suffering memory loss and a dizzy spell…" she sighed irritably, waving a hand for the rest to follow. "Why not?"

When they arrived at the inn, Mac was the first to rocket to the nearest booth, and sit down on it with a bounce. He found the seats to be amazingly comfortable, much to his amusement: soft and firm at the same time, and candy-colored as a bonus. The leathery texture provided a sense of relaxation as soon as his flank hit it. A cream-colored stallion with tangerine hair walked up to them as soon as they sat down:

“What can I do for you?” He asked, rubbing a glass with his striped apron while looking at the group expectantly.

“Eight milkshakes: one chocolate, two vanillas, one red velvet, three strawberries, and one caramel, Mr. Cake!” Pinkie said, The others simply nodding in agreement.

“Eight Milkshakes: coming right up!” Mr. Cake said, heading off to the counter.

"Hey, they got you a milkshake!" Orion chuckled. "Which one are you gonna hold hooves with?"

Ignoring the jibe, Mac decided to try and pick up a conversation:

“Why don’t some of you tell me a few tales of your adventures?” He offered, half hoping to get some more information, and half that he’d be able to see if the representations of this world in his own were accurate.

“You mean you've forgotten us entirely?” Rainbow scowled, growing slightly impatient.

“Sorry.” Mac said; gesturing for someone to start a story.

Twilight smiled as Mr. Cake returned with a tray of glasses: “Well, let’s start at the beginning…”

After countless tales were told- and after Orion tuned out for the day out of boredom- from the squabbles at the Sisterhood Social to the defeat of Lord Tirek. It was getting near evening, and Mac was starting to feel the effects of interdimensional travel.

“Uh, I’m feeling kind of… woozy.” He muttered: swaying from genuine dizziness.

“Ah’m not surprised, after whatever made ya lose your memory like that, and then you going on and downing a whole milkshake!” Applejack stated: standing from her seat and helping Mac up.

“It’s not like I guzzled it!” Mac protested. “It’s been five hours!”

“Nevertheless, it's sugar." Rarity affirmed. "why don’t you go on home, and rest for the evening?” she offered, walking him out the door.

“That sounds good, but… where’s home?”

The others looked around their group with concern, and in unease. Applejack just rolled her eyes in frustration and pointed a hoof to a nearby cloud.

“You usually just put one of those in a nice, warm sunbeam and take a nap.” She said, before Rarity stepped out from under him.

Mac was still leaning on her, and was not expecting her to move. So naturally, he fell over like a bicycle, bruising his wing.

“Oh, go on!” Applejack groaned, helping him to his feet. “Fly on up there!”

Mac didn’t need to fake incompetency for flying: he had, after all, only had his wings for a few hours, and was not quite used to them. He tried flapping them but, instead, he just ended up just flailing them around uselessly. And even smacked Applejack in the face quite a few times.

“Sorry!” He squeaked before trying again: this time his wings worked properly, and he went off the ground. He ended up three feet in the air before his left wing popped like a stretched knuckle, and he fell on the grass with a thud, causing him to hiss in pain. He stood up, and was about to try again when he felt six hooves lift him gently off the ground and into the air. He looked over his shoulders and saw Rainbow, Twilight, and Myra hoisting him up.

“Looks like I need a little practice.” He grinned sheepishly. They just smiled at him, much like a mother would smile at a struggling foal.

They bore him up to the cloud, before then dropped him unexpectedly. Mac was about to let loose a startled scream when he felt a gentle poof break his fall, and he looked down: he was actually sitting on the cloud.

'Pegasi can really sit on the clouds!' He thought, dumbstruck. he ran his hoof through the airy material like a curious filly.

“It feels like silk, but it’s as warm as cotton!” He marveled. Within a second, and much to the surprise of the others: he stuck his head into the cloud, and poked it out the bottom. As he thought, he could see 'his friends' clearly, standing on the earth beneath him. And yet, the cloud still supported his weight.

“And... it’s not solid?” he whispered to himself.

Myra gave a little laugh. “What the heck are you doing?”

Mac was too amazed to answer plainly.

“Cloud—w-weight—all the way through!” he babbled. Then, a curious- and slightly mischievous- grin spread across his face. He looked up, narrowed his eyes, and with a whisper of “Soon...” sank slowly into the cloud. Rainbow rolled her eyes and chuckled.

Once he was inside, Mac then tried picking up a section of the cloud, and found himself unintentionally holding an armful of the fluff. He then tried to shape it into a ball, and again, it worked. Soon, he found he was able to mold the cloud into any shape he wanted: a pole, a pony, a cube, or a perfect sphere. And, much to his pleasure, he was actually able to move it so it was anywhere he wanted it to be: whether floating freely in the air, or resting on a larger section of the cloud.

Now that he had an idea of what he was doing, he circled the cloud numerous times: with a poke here, a pull there, and a prod to the side. And within nine minutes, he had shaped out a little beach scene. Complete with a palm tree, coconuts, a sun chair, a beach ball, and a small table: each meticulously carved from the cumulus. With a content sigh, he leaned back on the chair, and closed his eyes: basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

The black stallion woke up a few hours later, and saw that the sun had moved over a mountain range in the distance. A darkened forest flowing from the twilit mountain roots, and stretching all the way to the outskirts of town.

“What are you?” he wondered aloud, his voice barely a whisper.

“Those mountains are called the Spires, Mac.”

The sudden intrusion of the voice caused Mac to jump out of his thoughts with a yelp. He stood up, and looked around the cloud a few times until he spotted Myra leaning against the cloudy palm tree. It was no wonder to him that he didn't notice her earlier. For her ivory coat caused her to blend into the cloud, so that Mac would not have seen her if she had not spoken up again:

"Feeling any better?"

“W-What are you doing here?” Mac asked in alarm, scrambling to get into an upright position.

“I stayed behind to make sure you were alright.” She said soothingly. “According to Twilight, your mark might have been stolen. In which case, I just need to do the best that I can to stir your memory, which includes making sure you get enough rest.”

She stood up and walked over to him, the sun reflecting off her eyes in a way that gave them a mysteriously fascinating glow. She molded herself a cushion, and sat down beside him, pointing towards the forest: “The Everfree marks the eastern border of our town, whereas the Spires mark the border to the kingdom of Equestria.”

She heaved a deep sigh, “Our outermost villages, between the mountain ranges, used to be known the Shadowlands. Those were severed from our protection when the Deceivers attacked half a millennium ago. The Princesses have tried again and again to reach them. But, as of yet, there is no news of your kin.”

"My kin?" Mac questioned. The bewildered tone in his voice gave Myra pause, before she continued:

"Your grandparents were the last of the Shadow to escape the Decievers, Mac. Along with them, they brought their son and his wife. Who then had their children years later: your sister, your brother... and you."

At the end of the tale, she looked over at Mac. “What are you doing?” she asked plainly.

Mac’s face reddened when he realized that he was staring at her. “Just wondering why you’re telling me all this, I guess.” He offered.

Myra’s eyes sullenly drifted upward, as she let out a sigh. “I was hoping to stir your memory a little more. The Shadowlands are your favorite things to study. Ever since I first knew you, you’ve dreamed of going back to them someday.”

Mac nodded his head sadly, as he was starting to regret having to lie to these ponies.

“I really am sorry about this... this memory issue.” He offered sympathetically. Myra replied with a warm smile, and stood up.

“I have to get home now, my parents might wonder where I am.” She said, walking back to the 'tree', and picking up a silvery book in her teeth. Mac looked at the shining tome, and noticed the pattern on its front: an image like that of a stained glass window. Beneath the pattern was a title: Painted Wind. Mac was about to comment on this, when another thought popped into his head:

“Wait!" He called, stopping the mare before she took off. She looked over her shoulder, assuring him to continue:

"Aren’t my parents going to wonder where I am, if I spend the night on this cloud?” Mac asked curiously. Myra stiffened at the request, and looked at him with a dejected, yet sympathetic, expression.

“I thought you would remember that, if you remembered anything, Mac." She choked slightly. "Your parents… they..."

She removed her eyes from his curious stare, trailing off in a low tone. "Well… they…”

“‘They' what?” Mac inquired, letting a hint of concern stain his voice.

“I hope you sleep well tonight, Mac.” Myra said quickly, offering him a sad grimace before she took to the skies.

Mac pondered the strange hesitation for a moment, but decided it wasn't important as he shrugged it off. It couldn’t be all that vital if she couldn’t tell someone she thought she knew for her whole life. He took Myra’s chair, and molded it into a blanket: closing his eyes once more as he drifted back into the warm, comforting embrace of sleep.

And that’s when it fully hit him: he knew the Mane Six! Next Chapter: Chapter Three: Brewing Unrest. Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 44 Minutes