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A Million Miles from Home

by TooShyShy

Chapter 1: Part 1: Manehatten

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Lyra watched the countryside zip past the train window.

Had Equestria always been this wild? She recalled the countryside having been much more subdued. But then again, she'd been in Canterlot. One often forgot the intricate discord of nature whilst swept up in the bustling city life.

Resting against Lyra's side was a brown satchel. The satchel was completely unremarkable in appearance. Anypony who'd set hoof in Manehatten or Canterlot had seen a dozen of them. Other than being forcibly violated by train station security, there was nothing significant about this specific satchel. This was both fortunate and unfortunate, as its contents were of a very curious nature.

Lyra allowed herself a subtle victorious smirk. Those idiot security guards had amused themselves playing tough with her, but in the end they were just talentless thugs. If they'd been worth their badges, Lyra would have at least been smacked with a stern warning. She'd gotten away with barely a disapproving glance, satchel's contents intact. Thank Celestia.

Other than Lyra, the train car was empty. She wondered if this was a coincidence or a direct result of her presence.

Lyra gingerly touched her mane with the tip of her hoof. She wasn't exactly in love with the new even shorter length, but it kept certain ponies off her back. With the contact lenses and a long skirt to hide her Cutie Mark, Lyra Heartstrings ceased to exist. The freedom was enough to make Lyra appreciate her new manecut, even if it wasn't to her liking.


A series of guitar riffs exploded from Lyra's saddlebag. She nearly tumbled off her seat as the quiet was unexpectedly broken. Lyra fumbled with the bag for a moment, turning it upside down and allowing its contents to cascade over the seat and onto the floor. Last to tumble out was a bright green ePhone. Lyra answered it hastily.

“Hi?” she said.

She realized a minute too late that she hadn't checked who was calling.

“I told you to stay in the city.”

The voice sounded light and vaguely sensual, but with an undercurrent of motherly sternness. It brought to mind the image of a long-maned unicorn mare applying lipstick whilst bringing her hoof down firmly on the chest of some unfortunate offender. Whilst this image wasn't entirely accurate, it was pretty damn close.

Lyra's laugh was surprisingly convincing.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “I am in the city.”

Her gaze wandered somewhat guiltily to the fields and mountains visible through the train window.

“No, you're not,” said Fleur De Lis. “You're on a train heading to Manehatten.”

A shiver darted across Lyra's back.

“Nope, in my apartment,” Lyra said. “Just chilling on the couch. Wanna grab a coffee or something later?”

She was rapidly doing calculations in her head. It would take Fleur De Lis approximately an hour to get to Lyra's apartment if she took a cab. By that time Lyra would be in Manehatten.

“Awfully quiet in your apartment,” commented Fleur.

Lyra's blood froze. Fleur was outside her apartment.

“Did I say I was at home?” said Lyra quickly. “I'm actually at that coffee place downtown.”

She was doing the math again. Thirty minutes—maybe forty—if Fleur took the bait. If only Lyra knew more than one coffee place in all of Canterlot.

Fleur remained silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, it was with the coldness of somepony who had swallowed their profanity.

“I told you not to leave the city,” she repeated.

Fleur hung up before Lyra could. She had already silently appointed herself the mistress of the conversation, so of course she'd get the last word.

Change of plans, Lyra thought.

She pushed her ePhone off the edge of the seat and onto the floor. Lyra stood up, her face set in somber determination. In one decisive motion, she brought her hoof down on the phone. Her hoof came down hard, cracking the phone's exterior and causing it to spill its electronic guts. Lyra brought her hoof down again and again, smashing the unfortunate piece of technology into a mutilated pile of small components.

Lyra briefly felt bad about losing contact with Fleur. Then again, they hadn't exactly been best friends. Lyra doubted it was normal to form such a close attachment with a pony who'd basically been hired to "keep an eye on her". But despite everything, Lyra did somewhat value Fleur's "friendship". Oh well.

Goodbye Fleur, Lyra thought.

There went Lyra's last connection to Canterlot. Now she was truly on her own.


In Manehatten, Lyra booked a room at the cheapest hotel she could find. This was hardly a matter of bits—she had a pretty nice amount of savings to draw from—and more a manner of discretion. If anypony came looking, they'd comb the high class places first. The lower Lyra went, the more time she had to bail.

Once she'd settled into her cockroach-friendly temporary home, Lyra used the phone at the front desk to make a call. The call was to a pony she knew by name and only vaguely by face.

“Hey Silver Spear,” she said. “Guess who made it in one piece?”

Silver Spear was a pony Lyra had essentially hired to rent an apartment for her. She'd contacted him a month ago and offered him a hefty sum to find and rent an apartment in the lower half of Manehatten. Lyra had given Silver Spear one or two slivers of information regarding why and where, but she'd mostly let the bits do the talking.

“I'm at the Brass and Bronze Hotel,” Lyra said. “Room 501.”

She hung up and returned to her room humming a cheerful song.

An hour later, a delivery pony arrived with a package for “Ms. Lyre Hearthstone”. The name was an honest-to-Celestia mistake of Lyra's terrible hoofwriting, but she accepted the package without complaint.

The package had originally been mailed to Silver Spear by Lyra a week ago, but it hadn't been opened. It appeared nopony had tampered with the contents, but even if they had they wouldn't have found anything significant. For good measure, Lyra had stuffed a card reading “To my greatest love” into a corner of the box. She hoped it would create a completely false narrative involving a desperate admirer.

The box contained a brand new ePhone—purchased from a vendor of somewhat ill repute who specialized in bootleg Quest merchandise—and three completely blank notebooks. There was also an old worn copy of The Wizard of Canterlot, a brand new quill pen, and an unopened chocolate bar.

Lyra snatched up the chocolate bar and unwrapped it. Holding it in her mouth, she started levitating things out of the box and into her open suitcase.

After the suitcase was packed and locked, Lyra—chocolate bar still clenched between her teeth—trotted into the bathroom with her satchel. She opened it and pulled out a small yellow bottle marked “Shampoo”. Despite its deceiving consistency and artificial fruity aroma, the bottle contained something far more relevant. Lyra had snagged it from a dubious shop that sold “magical remedies and beauty supplies” in some undocumented portion of Equestria.

Lyra stood before the mirror and poured the bottle's contents over her mane. She watched with slight regret—albeit mostly relief—as the pristine white of her mane was steadily overtaken by a dirty yellow. In less than a minute, the color of her short mane had been completely and permanently altered. Her mane was now the color of dry hay and about the same length as that of a Royal Guard.

Goodbye Lyra, Lyra thought.

She poured what remained of the liquid down the sink.


Lyra woke up several hours past bright and early. It was her stomach—better than any alarm clock she'd ever owned—that caused her to spring out of bed. But despite the persistent rumbling of her stomach, she pushed all thoughts of food from her mind. One glance at the clock told Lyra breakfast or lunch wasn't in her near future.

Bypassing her daily shower in favor of splashing water on her face, Lyra grabbed her suitcase and satchel. She left an envelope filled with bits on her bed. The money would cover the one night stay, plus a little extra for the maid.

“Farewell sweet bits,” Lyra whispered. “I'll always remember you.”

She unbolted one of the windows and slipped out onto the ledge. Lyra sucked in her breath sharply as she inadvertently looked down. The fifth floor hadn't seemed so intimidating when she was going up in the elevator.

“Good thing I'm a hardflank,” Lyra said.

To prove this to herself, she leapt off the ledge. For several seconds, Lyra was too stunned by her own actions to react. She watched in silent horror as the ground rushed to meet her. But at the very last moment, Lyra using magic to slow her descent. She touched down lightly, her hooves flailing desperately before they finally met solid ground.

“Yep, I'm a hardflank,” Lyra muttered shakily.

Before the adrenaline could wear off, Lyra trotted to the front of the building. She set off at a quick trot, her years of blending into the natural chaos of the city becoming relevant at last. If anypony had been observing her, they would have seen Lyra evaporate into the crowd as if she had become one with some colossal entity.

Despite her late start, Lyra arrived at her destination within the hour. She rapidly left the more questionable side of Manehatten and found herself in the high class portion of the city. Lyra passed several art galleries and cafes before finding herself in front of Five Stallion Apartments.

The apartment--Apartment 308--was “owned” by somepony Lyra didn't know by name. They'd worked out a system of various aliases to communicate with one another. Their initial contact had been Lyra imploring this pony to rent an apartment on the richer side of Manehatten populated mostly by artists and fashion designers. Lyra's mysterious contact didn't actually live in the apartment, but everypony simply assumed the pony renting it was using it as an art studio or something. As long as the rent was sent in on time, nopony actually cared.

Lyra slipped past the bored-looking mare at the front desk. It was lunchtime, therefore most of the residents had scattered to the many upscale restaurants in the area. Nevertheless, Lyra decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. She was able to slip into the apartment without encountering a single pony.

She closed the door behind her and slipped the copy of the key back into her satchel.

“Nice,” she congratulated herself.

Lyra quickly unpacked her suitcase. She only had two months before the deal ran out and she had to run, but she was hoping she could knock it all out in a few weeks.

“Lunch first,” she said.

Lyra left through the window again. This time she was less terrified, but it was going to take a while to get used to this method of departure. It was a shame her attempts at teleportation had been a bust.

She had lunch at a modest little cafe, then made her way to the city's largest shopping district. Lyra had spent all of her physical bits, but she still had a generous supply of virtual ones nestled into an anonymous account somewhere miles away from Equestria. It wasn't a particularly impressive amount considering she'd been saving for five years, but she estimated it would be enough.

It was late evening by the time Lyra returned. She levitated herself up to the window of her apartment. It was a lot easier not to look down, but she still had to resist squeezing her eyes shut as she left the safety of the ground. Lyra opened the unlocked window and hastened inside.

“Shopping done, Lyra alive,” she announced to the empty apartment.

She had bought a month's worth of food—if she stretched it—along with a few odds and ends she'd decided might have a place in her plans.

Lyra spent the evening getting herself settled, a task that mostly consisted of stuffing food into the fridge and cupboards. Lyra didn't bother unpacking her suitcase or her satchel. If she needed something from either of them, she could simply put it back after she was done with it.

Lyra wasn't usually a fan of turning in early, but she found herself exhausted. Promising herself she'd be up early for once, Lyra began getting ready for bed.

Before crawling under the covers, Lyra retrieved one of the notebooks and her quill pen from the suitcase. She opened the notebook before her, a smile crossing her face as she studied the first blank page. She briefly longed for the comfort of those well-loved pages that had gone up in flames less than a year ago. Lyra had vivid memories of the inferno that had devoured all of her hopes and dreams. But she held no resentment towards its cause anymore. If anything, it had given Lyra the boost she needed.

Her heart pounding, Lyra touched her quill pen to the paper and hurriedly wrote out those deliciously forbidden words.

A town named Ponyville.

Just as before, Lyra would write those words every morning and every night. She was never going to forget the truth.

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