For the second time today, I'm standing in front of the Ponyville library. Despite having been running around town all afternoon, Celestia's sun is still a fair bit away from the horizon. I'm not the best at guessing time, but if I had to, I’d say it's only five o'clock. In spite of all the walking I've been doing and the time spent in the spa, I'm not at all tired.

Casting a sidelong glance at Lyra, I can tell that she's not even winded either. There's that Equestrian stamina bleeding through again. She's been carrying that bushel of apples—heck, that has to be at least forty pounds right there clutched against her—since Sweet Apple Acres, and her arms don't even look sore. Does that mean my body is becoming an earth pony?

I know I should probably be freaking out about the whole 'my real body is becoming a pony' thing, but really I'm probably in shock. That, and this whole thing is some weird Going Native trope in the most literal sense—or was that the Fisher Kingdom trope? With all that's happened, I think it's only natural to be in shock. Then again, considering that I also spent more than a few minutes crying things outwith Lyra, I'm probably just emotionally drained.

Tentatively, I open the door and step into the library. The tinkle of a bell rings out as we enter, notifying Twilight or Spike to our presence. Sure enough, a masculine but young voice calls out, “Just a minute!” So I get to meet Spike this time. I was kinda wondering where the little bugger had gotten off to when we were by the first time. Then again, he's Spike, so he was probably off stalking Rarity or something.

Waiting for Spike to come and greet us, I hesitantly begin browsing the non-fiction here on the first floor. It's just a time-passing action, after all, I can't read Equestrian script all too well. I mean, if I concentrate hard enough, I can probably read it, but who knows which memories I'd lose as a result? That's not something I'm willing to risk.

Speaking of memories, why is it that I'm having no difficulty remembering what happened yesterday or the day before, but my memory of anything prior to this beginning is full of more holes than Swiss cheese peppered with buckshot. It's kinda been bugging me, not just because I'm scared by this whole ordeal, but in the event that I lose all of my human memories, would I just be some confused and possibly psychotic Lyra brain clone?

“Lyra, what brings you and your...” he begins, as he climbs the stairs up from one of the lower floors. He looks cautiously between Lyra and me before finishing his thought. “...friend? Yeah. What brings you and your friend here this evening?”

“Spike, is Twilight in right now?” Lyra asks. I probably couldn't keep my shit together if I said anything, so on the way here, we both agreed that we should let her do the talking. “We really need to talk to her.”

Spike seems to think this over for a moment. His scaly visage is contorted in a grimace, and he almost seems disappointed. With a sigh, he replies, “Can't it wait until after this party she's going to tonight?” The little dragon rubs a claw under his chin as he looks pensively at the doorway that leads down to the fiction section. “She's had the reshelving of the fiction section on her schedule forever, and now she's working extra hard to get it done before the party. If we don't get it done tonight, it's going to be on my plate for the next month while she adjusts time in her schedules to dedicate more time to the—”

Lyra gives Spike a serious, pleading look, freezing the dragon mid-sentence. “Spike, please!”

Even as Lyra and Spike lock eyes, I make my way by him to the door that leads down below. To hell with the plan, I don't want to wait for a response; I never liked letting others speak for me anyway. Instead, I do the only thing that comes to mind. The clip-clop of my hooves echoes weakly off of the wall as they lead me down the stairs.

The shelving units that line the circular wall here in the fiction section are barren this time around—a drastic change to be sure. Instead, there are towers of books stacked spine-out in front of the rows of shelves. Off to the far side, near the door to the smut room, is Twilight Sparkle. Floating all around her gripped in her violet aura are books as she sorts them into stacks in front of the shelves.

Traversing the carpeted floor I continuously eye the stacks, desperate not to lose my cool. Even if I can't read the characters, anypony with enough brains can pick up on patterns. It's not like their written script could be too different from their spoken language, right? Still, it'd be impossible for me to learn and memorize all the Equestrian characters off the spines of books.

Coming to a stop a few feet behind Twilight, I watch as the last stack completes itself. With a hitching voice, I make myself known. “Um, hi again, Twilight.” She doesn't flinch in surprise at my sudden speaking. Did she hear me coming? A twitch of my tail and a whiff of musk reminds me that I'm in estrus, and that she probably smelled me. “I heard that you were doing some reshelving before the party. Want a hoof, er, hand with that?”

She peers at me over her shoulder, her eyes curious, but appreciative. “I suppose it couldn't hurt.” She smiles and nods. “Sure, Soren. Another unicorn would make this go twice as quickly. You can take that side, and work your way around, and I'll start here.”

“Just to warn you, I can't read Equestrian script yet.” I laugh, trotting over to the far side. “Will that be a problem?”

Twilight's already at work on her own stacks, levitating them a stack at a time and into the shelves. “Not really. I've already sorted them all and organized them by shelf. As long as you keep left to right, top to bottom in mind, you'll be fine.” She turns to glance at me for a moment. There's a modicum of concern in her eyes. “Are you going to be alright with all of these books? It's a lot to ask of a pony inexperienced with magic, and it can be trying even for me at times.”

I look back to her and shrug. This time, I watch to see which end of the stack ends up where on the shelves. After making certain of it all, I say, “Repetition is what builds muscle strength, and practice makes perfect. I can only perfect my control if I put it to the test.” I wink at her and send a half-hearted smile her way. What I don’t add is that it would help take my mind off of what is troubling me. “I might be a bit tuckered from catching a falling filly and buffeting her with an updraft to slow her descent, but I will certainly do my best.”

Just don't push yourself. The words aren't spoken, but they're hanging in the air all the same. Without another word, I focus on the stack on the farthest left side of the shelving unit.

At first, when I try lifting the entire stack, my magic can't even manage an ounce of lift on the pile. I can't manage more than lifting one book. It's not for lack of trying; I'm just incredibly weak compared to Twilight. As I repeat the action a couple of times, however, I find my focus refining enough to lift two, and then three books at a time. I'm going nowhere as quickly as Twilight can, but it's progress, right?

Finally working up the courage, I say, “Twilight, my human body...” It's hard to manage the emotions of it all and still keep up the shelving. “I think it's transforming into a pony.”

Finishing my first unit, I pause for a breather and turn to face Twilight. She's not even facing her shelves as she works her own magic. She's just laying comfortably on a cushion, watching me. Oddly, it seems she's not shocked by this. Closing her eyes, she lets out a sad sigh. “Then it is true...”

“What is?” I drop the last few books in my grip onto the shelf and lower myself to the ground, drained by the effort. A tentative glance shows Lyra and Spike off filling bookshelves near the stairs. I guess she realized this was something I had to ultimately do for myself. Tears rim my eyes as my gaze turns back to the lilac mare's face. “Don't tell me that you knew something like this might happen.”

“Before you get mad at me, please hear me out.” She turns her head slightly, and a tome appears before her in a purple flash. “Back when I found out that Lyra had swapped bodies with a being from another realm, I began researching contact with extradimensional entities. As you can imagine, the materials here were quite limited, but even the Canterlot archives didn't have much either when I wrote to them about it.

“The only works they had on the subject were by Corkscrew the Eccentric, whose theories have been largely discredited by the world at large. He made many claims, but none of his experiments were ever successfully reproduced.” She shakes her head. “One of his experiments involved extruding a life-form from another realm into our own.”

“Then it's not the first time a pony has brought something from another realm here?” I ask.

“Nopony can prove that he did,” she replies glumly. “The memoir reported, however, that he successfully brought an avian creature of some sort to Equestria. For many months, he kept it in his laboratory. He noted in his studies that whenever he'd tend to his other experiments, the creature bathed in the magic radiating from his horn and whatever he was manipulating. Over those months, he noted the creature becoming more and more alike an Equestrian blue jay.

“He postulated that the bird must have come from a realm that was barren of magic.”

“Like mine...” I say softly. “So you're saying that this started when you had to flip my body's sex to keep me from being given a vasectomy?”

“No, Soren, I think it might have started the first time she ate here.” I give her a look of confusion. “Remember when you were brought to the hospital? When you woke, the doctor no doubt told you that you were rather malnourished for having been gone only a few days. Ponies replenish their magic reserves through both the ambient magic in the environment and their diet. If we don't have any magic exposure, we can't efficiently metabolize our food or replenish our reserves.”

Wow... It seriously sounds like a pony could die if they spent too much time on Earth. That sounds like a pretty terrible prospect, and if the switch-back doesn't occur, I could be counting my graces that they pulled me back here when they did. “There's nothing you can do, is there, Twilight?”

There's a solemn look in her eyes. “I'm not completely sure that I can help. Even if I could, I'm not sure I could find the answer before it's too late.”

So this is it, then? Even when I get my own body back, I'm going to be a fucking pony anyway? Jesus fuck, this pisses me off. It's like I've just been told that even though I've just survived the most horrifying car wreck, I'm going to die anyway because I have a brain embolism. Is this what true defeat feels like? Is this what they mean when they say 'the GM is a cheating bastard'? It isn't fair.

I push up off of the floor, and begin to walk up the stairs. Lyra moves to stop me, so I shake my head. “Go talk to Twilight. See if you two can't figure out what sort of pony I'm going to be.”

“But—”

“I'll be fine,” I reply softly. “I'm just going up to the second floor to do some thinking by myself.” I've got some writing to do. Letters... and instructions too.

“Soren, listen...” Lyra sits down beside me, and leans against me. Before I know what to think, she puts an arm—my arm—around my withers. “If you don't want to go through with the party, we'll understand. All you have to do is say so and I'll talk to Pinkie.”

The thought of Pinkie being told at the last minute to cancel the party crosses my mind, filling me with dread. I can see two possible outcomes in that scenario, and both terrify me. The first outcome is Pinkie deflating and going freakishly crazy again. Alternatively, she could spaz and get super pissed. “Nopony cancels a Pinkie Party!” comes to mind.

“I wasn't actually thinking about turning down the party, Lyra.” Resting my head against her ribs, I sigh. “If anything, the party sounds like just what I need to cheer up right now.” I look up at her and grin. “Besides, Pinkie is freaking scary about her parties and promises. I don't wanna end up inside a cupcake or anything.”

She pushes me away suddenly, looking deadly serious. “Don't ever say that!” She puts her hands on the sides of my face. “She's nothing like that!”

Before I know what's happening, I'm rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically. Not only did she get the reference, she thinks I was being completely serious. That's just too funny. “Oh man, Lyra.” I say, stifling my laughter. “I can't believe you even read that fic!”

“Soren, that isn't funny!” In spite of her stern expression, I can see the corners of her mouth fighting back a smile. “Why would anypony write such a thing?”

I take a moment to contemplate that question. I've considered writing my own bit of glue-fiction myself, but never had the desire. “Shock value, I guess.” I roll back up into a sitting position and shrug. “Point is that it isn't real, and that you've read it. How did it make you feel?”

“Horrible,” Lyra groans, realizing I'm just being playful. “For the first day, I couldn't hold food down, and I couldn't look at cupcakes for a week.”

“That just means you're a good pony Lyra. Don't ever doubt that.” I answer softly. A feeling of shame and dread is filling my own stomach. “It mean's you aren't stained by the dark humor of the human world.”

“How about you?”

The question that I didn't want asked has come to pass. I look at the floor in shame. “Hungry,” I say in a completely dead tone. Flicking my ear towards the stairs, I hear Twilight trotting up. “Let's get going and give Twilight some time to get ready.”

“Where to then?”

“Home.” I give her a smile. “After all, we’re going to a party, aren’t we? I’d like a chance to bathe or find some way to cover this odor.” I cough uncomfortably and then nod happily. “If we’re lucky, somepony will bring drinks and I can get blind drunk and forget everything for a few hours.”

Author's Notes:

Re-edited 11 July 2017