Well, it began on a beach, eighty-one days ago.

In my world, Twilight Sparkle needed to reach one specific place where she could cross beyond our plane’s boundaries. There were months of hard travel and adventures. We evaded bandits and revolutionaries, braved the arctic blizzards and the war-torn lands of an ancient empire. Over time I went from her skeptical but well paid companion to an ardent admirer. I loved her, and wanted to be whatever use to her was possible. When we arrived, she told me that she was returning home, and I begged to be taken along. We crossed into a pool of water, but it was not…

Forgive me, but briefly: where the Eternities beyond us are concerned, tread lightly across language. Do not grasp too firmly the meaning and insinuations of meaning you find but keep your palm up. I know you don’t understand that last part, it’s alright.

So it appeared to be water, and perhaps in some sense it was, but it was also the liminal place between my solid reality and the Field of Arbol. That is what its called, by the way, though there are many names. The Aetheric Sea. The World Tree. The Open Sky. None of them are remotely right, but when you are there you understand why folk have said such things.

Everything makes sense there, and yet there’s just so much of it that nothing feels coherent in the end. The blind eternities are different for everyone, or so I’m told.

For me, it was a sea, and we were carried on wild waves. I feared I would be crushed and lost forever, but my lady upheld me. I do not know how long we traveled, for there was no time there in any sense that I could divine.

And at last, when I knew myself again, I was lying on a beach.

Gentle waves lapped the shore, and a breeze woke me. I opened my eyes, and did not care or even remember that I was in a new body. That seemed so distant, and so very trivial compared to the peace of that shore.

At length, my lady sat by my side and helped me as I learned to rise under my own power. Learning how to use a new body is difficult. It’s frustrating in the extreme and above all, it steals one’s sense of dignity rather forcefully. To her credit, Lady Twilight did not laugh too much at my childish mistakes. Foalish mistakes, I suppose would be more apropos.

When I could walk more or less on my own, we strolled without any real aim along the soft waves. To our left the beach gave way to gentle hills and very swiftly up into impossible mountains, so tall that in the dazed state of mind that place engenders, they seemed to touch the roof of the world. I could see no sun, and yet there was plenty of light. The Farthest Shore is held forever at the moment when the afternoon is at its quietest, slowest point.

We did not talk much, my Lady and me. I think perhaps that neither of us were then ready to talk, or beyond that it would not be wrong to say that the Farthest Shore is not a place for mundane conversations.

But when we did talk, I found it disorienting. Language falls apart at the edges of the world, and you hear yourself in a dozen tongues and understand them all. When later I found I knew some of your language, Lady Twilight informed me that it is one of many possible effects that exposure to the ends of the world has on a pony.

Ah. A pony. That was rather unique. I’ll show you a drawing, perhaps, that Lady Twilight sketched out of what I once looked like. You’ll see right away why walking on four hooves--and walking on hooves at all!--took me some immeasurable but long time to master.

But all things end, and so did that time. We walked inland, towards the mountains that scratch the roof of heaven, and as we began the long climb, my lady and I began again our old routine. Old by my reckoning, but I suppose you wouldn’t know of it. We would travel in the day time (thought there it is always some sort of daytime) and when we stopped to eat, my Lady would instruct me in magic.

The simplest things in this world would revolutionize my own. Casting without sigils or some kind of focus is simply… I’ve grown accustomed to seeing it, but by the standards of the mages of Valeria such things are miracles.

I do not know how long we traveled. A week, perhaps. The mountains were impossible, and yet I never tired. The rocky crags should have cut our hooves, and the trail itself should have defeated us, and yet it did not. We hiked for hours without sweat or groan. Always inward, always upward.

That part of the journey is muddy, honestly. Time there is soft, and reality is more suggestion than anything else. It was not until the roses… Ah, I’m sorry.

The roses. The sea of roses. On the other side of the Walls of Evening--that is what they call the mountains in Sarnath--is a field filled with wild growing roses for miles. In the center there rises a small hill crowned by flowering moss and brambles which have grown over a stone wall.

As soon as I saw it, I wanted to climb those walls or find some sort of door. Only Twilight’s firm grip on my wrist kept me from throwing myself into the roses to carve a path into that holy place.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, but her face seemed so sad. “You can’t. It’s not for you.”

Has your heart ever shattered? Mine did, then. I have not before then felt such loss.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What is this? Why--”

“I could never begin to explain. I’m sorry. We’ll move quickly. But don’t look at it.”

I tried not to. Upon my life, upon my city I swear it. But I could not help but steal hopeless, baffled glances.

My lady tells me that at the edges of this world, before the sea of mountains which the batponies call the Wall of Evening but after the Flooded lands, there is a Garden. If one were to find the door--and that door is not so easily found!--there would be a gentle sloping path begirt on either side by thick foliage. Flowers more bright and alive than anything else on earth, and trees which bear fruit with no name. In the center ,at the top of a small flat land a wandering soul finds a pool of clear, cold water. But it is no ordinary water.

For in the beginning (my lady said one night as we lay wearily in the grass alongside the road) there was only Song, and the Singing made all things in joyous rapture of itself, and it Sang for itself, and it Sang to itself, and was a relation unto itself. But with appreciation, with Acknowledgement, there came division into Song and Matter, and soon the Song itself could not help but be partially matter. It receded but could not undo the creative work. Part of it was left behind, like a hoof in the door, and collected in pools of shimmering water. To drink it would be to taste the universe, though I confess I do not know what that means. To bathe in it would be to see the wild eternities.

The roses give way to a hilly land eventually. When we left them behind my heart felt light again in my chest, and my Lady too seemed to be at peace. I asked her where we were going, but she simply replied that we would head eastward, over the Veldt.

Camping in the hills, I got a better answer out of her. We would stop in a town called Sarnath, which she said was the farthest West of all settlements, and there obtain a few sundries before the long trek to the sea. Her home, Equestria, lay beyond it, and the batponies of Sarnath would be able to provide us such letters of mark as would be required to obtain passage.

I hope not to give offense, but when first she mentioned “batponies” I must say that I simply blinked at her in bafflement. I had her repeat the word, and turned it over in my mind. It just… didn’t make sense. I asked at first if the creatures in question were this world’s equivalent of vampires, for I know of these, but Lady Twilight rather carefully informed me that this was not true and also something of a… sore subject.

***

I hadn’t realized how far I had leaned in until Passport raised an eyebrow at me. I flushed and sat back in the chair, putting on the studied air of an alert newsmare.

“So, you were really clueless about our world,” I said. I had produced a small notebook and had scribbled a few things down. The recording was nice, but recordings got cumbersome. Taking notes kept you awake! Or at least, it tended to keep me awake.

“Absolutely, beyond the most bare facts. I knew of Equestria, in that I knew its name. I had an inkling of my Lady’s identity. I knew there were equines involved.” She flashed me a grin “I’ve been learning piecemal all along the way.”

“These places… I’ve never heard of any of this.” I shook my head. “Sarnath… rings a bell, but I know nothing about it. It’s just a name.”

“Not an important one, in this part of the world. Princess Twilight has told me some of how far your people have come since she was your age, but I suspect that West will ever be a mystery. It is rather… different. Perhaps if you could stop time from softening at the edges, or nail down matter and distance…” she shook her head, and looked away from me. “It’s just idle speculation. Build your dark towers or don’t. Anyhow, I was about to get to Sarnath, was I not?”

I nodded.

It was about this time that we had a visitor. A maid, a bright earth pony with a friendly smile brought us refreshments. I took tea, and my new friend did as well. The maid bowed perhaps a few times too many, but I didn’t blame her. It was rather exciting to have a lost princess returning.

When she had gone, Passport continued. “No, not Sarnath. Not yet. First…”

***

The Flooded Lands were first.

The name’s apt. Wetlands that stretch on for miles and miles. Twilight had some notion that a refuge was buried somewhere in all of that hateful slog, but we never found it. That’s a secret I suppose shall stay with the first Alicorns. We gave up the search after three days, as we were both beginning to lose our patience with the constant humidity. It would have been bad enough with standing water and reeds far as the eye could see, but it rained every day for most of the day. Our coats were matted and filthy. We smelled awful. I swear upon every temple in the city that by the end of it, when at last we found running water, it took an hour just to feel like myself again.

I’d like to never even think about mosquitoes again, after that leg of the journey. I’m loathe to see it again when I return home.

Well. If I return. That is a topic for later.

We made far better time when Lady Twilight had finally given up her search for the old Alicorn refuge, and I was almost deliriously glad to see firm dry ground again. That was when we curved our path slightly north, and found more hills that led into mountains. I feared we had simply circled back, but these were not the impossible mountains at the edge of the world. And we did not ever reach them.

For we came upon Sarnath at last, and none too soon, for I was beginning to dream of proper beds even when awake.

Sarnath is all beneath the earth, and the entrance is well hidden. In the hills there are ravines that hide wide caves, and silent brooks flow at the bottom of these cracks in the earth. Water and wind have worn the rock there completely smooth, and shaped it in odd, eldritch ways. Where the rocks become sharp and the way more difficult, one sees the first sign of the city in the form of bridges across the divides where watch stern sentries.

We were stopped and asked to identify ourselves by two fearsome armored ponies. I could see their leathery wings, but their faces were obscured. I admit that I found them frightening, for their tongue was heavily accented and their helmets are all unearthly curves and jutting points. I had foolishly expected a new world to be like my own, even after all of what I had seen.

Twilight announced herself and invoked the name of Princess Luna, and the guards changed their tunes. One was sent ahead to alert the other watchponies, and the one who stayed behind bowed deeply to us both. He welcomed us, and afterwards accompanied us through the air all the way to the great gates.

I am told that once there were no gates, and that there was only a great yawning mouth in the wall of rock, but the doors seemed older than anything I had seen. Every inch of them is carved in runes and pictures depicting a thousand scenes. Twilight told me lightly, as if she were discussing the weather, that five thousand or more years of history was carved on those gigantic doors. When we passed by, and I saw it even closer, I believed her.

Apparently, opening the gates of Sarnath takes some time, and so as they prepared a welcoming for us, my Lady and I had a moment to ourselves amongst the craggy rock walls. Echoes surrounded us as batponies in the many caverns peered out at their new guests. Watchponies, of course, but I saw a child… a foal, and I know not what age, in one of the farthest cracks. We locked eyes and I smiled at him, but he only seemed confused.

My Lady sighed and spoke.

“So--Passport.” She shook her head and smiled at me. “I must get used to that. Passport, we’ll be in a very… strange place. Do not take this as any sort of exemplar of cities in my world.”

***

Our story paused because at this moment, a question that had been bothering me all along.

“Passport… Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I’m being so rude, it’s just--”

She chuckled and poured more tea. She gently offered to fill mine, and I nodded. “It’s just… the way you speak is a bit archaic. Not exactly archaic, its just slightly so. I mean, that’s not a bad thing! You know. Uh.”

“I’ve asked my Lady about that. She laughed and said that everyone in Valeria talked like I did, like something out of…” she blinked, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “To be frank, friend, I don’t quite remember. Some such pony of letters, a Fern-you-call-him. Fern something. Or perhaps, a somesuch Fern? Bother.” She grumbled to herself with me.

“July Fern?” I asked, my ears perking on their own.

“Aye! That’s the name,” she said and grinned broadly at me.

Okay, I’ll be honest, I grinned back like a schoolfilly. Her enthusiasm is kind of infectious, and to be honest I already rather liked her. “But what was that about Fern?”

“She has informed me that I sound like I was a character in one of his books, translated into Equestria’s common tongue. I confess I’m not entirely sure why… but if I did have to guess, it would be because of the nature of the spell. I’ve some thoughts on that, by the by, but I’ll get there.” She raised an eyebrow and a cup and I nodded eagerly. “Good, if that’s acceptable… then I’ll continue. I believe we were somewhere around…”

***

“So--Passport.” She shook her head and smiled at me. “I must get used to that. Passport, we’ll be in a very… strange place. Do not take this as any sort of exemplar of cities in my world.”

“I had suspected we were in odd company when I saw the watchmen,” I answered, my lips twisting into a smile. “But I have a feeling that you do not mean the inhabitants.”

“Yes and no.” She glanced up at the many eyes, and then back at me, turning halfway. I mirrored her, so that we seemed merely to converse normally, tho my eyes caught the barest hint of her horn glowing as her head turned. Sleight of hand--sleight of horn? Hoof?--is apparently one of my lady’s skills that she makes use of less frequently.

At the time, I was still adjusting to the ease with which much Equestrian magic is cast, and so had no idea what she had done until she told me. “I’ve added some sound muffling,” she explained. “I wanted to say that our hosts have excellent hearing, and you should assume everything that you say until we have left these hills behind is being listened in on. The batponies of Sarnath are… grim. Try not to be too alarmed. You will see unpleasant things. The lords of this place are quick to take offense, and whilst I am rather formidable, battle magic was never my strong suite.”

I nodded, taking note of how the dampening spell changed how I heard her voice. It was as if we two were alone in a very small, echoing room. “I understand. What, ah, sort of unpleasantries?”

“The batponies of Sarnath have had an empire built on slaves longer than your city has existed,” she said flatly. “Princess Luna, before she was a princess, freed thousands when she drove out the vampire lords. But old habits die hard.” The smile she gave was not kind. “And as much as I would like to clear the place…”

“It would go poorly.”

“They don’t call it slavery anymore,” she said, dropping her voice. “Sarnath invented such fascinatingly convoluted ways to mask an ugly truth.”

We were interrupted by the opening of the gates. The sound was awful, all scraping stone and whirring gears, and when it was done two timid automaton-like ponies who I instantly realized were the enslaved that Twilight had referenced hurried forward to create a path of flowers which glowed a dim blue.

“Step only in the flowers,” she said to me lightly before trotting forward. The spell had been removed when I had not been paying attention, and only now did I hear the faint hymns emmanating from inside.

“What are they singing about? Do you know, my Lady?” I asked from her side.

“I do, and I will tell you. Walk a bit behind me, Passport. They will look on you unfavorably if you do not.”

I recoiled, but recovered. I was only her servant, after all. A kind of “gentleman’s gentleman” I had so humorously called it what seemed a lifetime ago. Of course I should not make her seem weak in front of others.

So I shrank back, and Twilight and I passed between the doors where we stopped before a small party of batponies.

They were striking. I admit that I had very little in the way of understanding of your world at this time, and though I am loathe to admit it, I found it difficult to tell what constituted a fare visage here. I had things to compare to in my own world, but Lady Twilight has asked me not to mention my world’s analogs. Perhaps, if we meet again and you provide me with strong drink, I’ll explain that bit.

But I was talking about the Lords. They were striking, and more than that they were terrifying. In their eyes I saw a bestial power beneath the thinnest veneer of noble bearing. These savage nobles adorned themselves in layers of gold and worthy stones, but what draws the eyes, good Ducky, is how they pierce the skin almost at random. As if to prove that they fear no pain, they try to outmatch each other in the stark angles of their augmentation.

Yet their tongues were as silk, and they conversed with my lady in a language I did not know as I stood obediently behind her as a Lady’s maid might. I found myself a bit out of sorts. I am not without some measure of self-awareness. I framed my service to the Princess in a way that precluded the demure life of the Lady’s maid in waiting very precisely. It is not that I dislike a role read more femininely, if you can understand that. It’s merely that I have always been a woman of action and words, and not exactly one of looks and grace. I have neither, and I have made my peace with that. I generally do not care at all.

But in that moment, I did care. If only a bit. Did having such an uncomely attendant rob my Lady of some of her prestige? I was not exactly a train of gold and ivory to show her great wealth. And putting her honor aside, to be told not to walk beside her was very foreign to one who had walked thus with her to the edges of the earth.

But presently, she turned to me and beckoned. I trotted forward and bowed deeply and stayed there as she spoke.

“This is my apprentice,” she said. “Rise, Passport. Let our hosts see your face.”

I did, and stood ramrod straight at attention.

They eyed me, and I admit that it made my skin crawl. One leered at me, a stallion a head taller than I, and said, “And has the Princess taught you well, young one?”

I swallowed. “Yes, my Lord. I knew very little of magic before I met her.”

A lie, of course, but it was best to set their expectations low. I could feel Twilight wanting to ask me why I had said that, but she did not.

“Show us something? If you do not mind, of course, Princess.”

“I do not,” Twilight said slowly.

I glanced her way, and the look she gave me was unreadable. I swallowed again.

I had not done much actual magic as a unicorn, but along the road Princess Twilight had taught me a few things. Namely, simple manipulation of light.

So I hummed, and felt the magic as it flowed from my body to focus in my horn, and then I released it into the shape of the spell that I hoped would do.

A ball of light popped into existence, hovering in front of me. I could just see the unimpressed look on the nobles’ face through the glare, and I smiled what I hoped was a confident smile as I bade my light ball to explode.

Not truly explode. Simply flare out.

I needed only the second it would blind the eyes. My real spell had not been the light ball at all, for it was only a ruse to draw the eye and then baffle the senses. Instead, I bent the light around myself, praying that this trick would work.

When those around me seemed to regain their wits, I saw that noble’s face painted a very different shade of emotion. He seemed pleased.

The light, bent around me in such a way, creates an illusion, sweet Ducky. Imagine it like… you know the oddness of seeing water on the surface of glass? How it distorts, sometimes only visible as it moves? It is like that. If I stay very still, the naked eye could miss me all together.

I let the spell dissipate, and there were murmurs of approval.

“A trick, but a very clever one,” one of them said. “Truly, you are taming a wild hedgemage into something fascinating, Lady Twilight. I commend you.”

She nodded, and after that I was ignored and was glad for it.

When at last we entered with some small ceremony of pledges and talk of hospitality, I steeled myself to see the unpleasant things I had been told of… and I must say that my Lady had been far too forgiving of that dreadful place.