“Hello?” Doug calls as he steps into the library, looking around curiously. It reminds him of a lighthouse, with rounded walls decidedly impractical for storing books, and yet bookshelves ring almost the entirety of the exterior and leave a large opening in the middle. He picks one out of a good two dozen nearly identical books, just to see if the spine of the book is thinner than the edge, but it appears as any other book he’s handled. And, to his astonishment (though that part of his brain has been on ignore for a while now), he can read the cover.

“Encyclopedia Equitannica,” Doug reads aloud, tracing a finger over the ornate gold lettering. “Volume Six: Holsters to Klugetown. Huh.” The front of the book depicts a rectangular land mass similar in shape to the United States, but with a prominent mountain in the middle. He cracks the book open, detailed pictures and dense paragraphs meeting his eye. What a find! He could certainly see himself holing up in the library for weeks on end, if just to get an inkling of everything to see! But where’s the fun when you can experience it for yourself?

“Can I help you?” asks a bespeckled gray mare, her primly tied-back mane the same faded off-white of the pages of a book. She enters from the open doorway to the kitchen, the strong scent of coffee wafting behind her. She looks Doug up and down, her face neutral.

“I’m not sure, but I hope so,” Doug says as he reluctantly replaces the book on the shelf. He stays staring at the wall for a few seconds, a finger lingering on the spine. “I’m trying to figure out where I am.”

She motions to the door outside. “Well, this here’s the Golden Oaks Library, but the sign out front told you that.”

Doug nods, his mouth pursing. “I guess I meant larger than that.”

The gray mare cocks her head slightly. “Town of Ponyville, country of Equestria, planet Equus, Solaris system?” She frowns at his lack of reaction. “You don’t recognize any of those?”

Doug shakes his head, hands gripping into fists at the frustration of not knowing, and also at not being able to hide that ignorance. I don’t want to appear too, well, extraterrestrial, right? So far everyone has reacted as if I’m just some oddity they haven’t seen before, not like I’m an alien or somesuch. “But, I’m not sure where to begin, or how… believable it is.”

“Well, some stories might open in media res, but perhaps it might be easier to start at the beginning.” The mare winks at Doug before turning back to the kitchen. “Can I offer you some coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the taste, but water would be great.” Doug smiles as the mare nods, quickly returning with a steaming cup for herself and a glass of clear liquid, both balanced on her back. He takes the glass with a grateful smile, and she contorts her body in a way no equine should be able, grabbing the cup and taking a sip herself. “Name’s Doug, by the way.”

“Storied Pages,” the mare says, standing in place and taking a second sip. “So, what’s your story? I love hearing all about other travelers! And I’ve neither seen nor heard of a creature like you, so I bet yours is a good one!”

A dearth of seats are available for Doug to relax in, only a few wooden end tables with metallic contraptions to hold a book open, so he merely inspects his glass. I wonder how purified this is. Or if I have a choice, besides boiling everything I drink. And eat. Well, if I start spewing from both ends, at least I won’t ruin my pants. But the ponies probably won’t appreciate it. He shrugs to himself, drinking the cool liquid. A nice chill, but not overly cold, and tastes like an abundance of minerals one might expect from a mountain stream.

How much trust do I put in this mare? I could go with a more direct approach. Given how many other things that shouldn’t exist that I’ve already seen, maybe it isn’t outside the realm of possibility that there is some, well, magical way to travel. I could be stuck for days trying to figure out just where to begin!

“So,” he begins, clearing his throat, “I guess, for this to make any sense, I have to ask. Are there, I don’t know, other worlds? Other dimensions?” He forces a smile, like he knows the incredulity of the question. What will you do if she says no? Or, maybe worse, yes?

“Hmm,” Storied Pages says, setting her cup down. She thinks for a moment. “It’s not common, not at all, but not unheard of, either. Not to those with any knowledge of history.” She walks up to one of the shelves further away, pulling out a brown book, embossed with a unicorn head surrounded by six diamonds, all in gold. Her muzzle contorts into a scowl as she lifts the book, the vehemence in her voice nearly startling him, “This has the only known pony to ever leave Equus itself, but she never returned, and good riddance.” She sets the book back on the shelf, going to another section. “If you’re looking for more than stories? Star Swirl the Bearded did the most extensive research in reaching other dimensions, but few ponies could keep up with his work. Very little has been done in that area in the thousand years since he disappeared, but rumors of other methods abound.”

“So, it’s all legends and fables?” Doug asks with a fading glimmer of hope. She snuffs that with something between a shrug and a nod. He sighs heavily. “Great. I guess that might make getting back a little more complicated.” He takes another sip from his water, though it turns to him draining the entire glass. He stares at the empty glass for a moment before beginning, “I’m afraid my story isn’t all that impressive. I went to bed, in my apartment, and woke up around dawn on Applejack’s farm. Um, Sweet Apple Acres. No indication of how I got there, or why, or much of anything at all.” He motions to the encyclopedias, “And I don’t recognize any land masses that look like that.” He sighs again as he sets his glass down, offering a sad smile. “Sorry, it’s not a lot to go on.”

“Well, if all you have is legends and fables, then there is one group that might help.” Storied Pages pulls out a faded photograph, three signatures scrawled along the front. She reverently sets it on the table, then rummages further into the bookshelf.

In the picture, five ponies stand against a wooden backdrop that very well could have been the Golden Oaks Library. Each is wearing more clothing than anypony he has seen in Ponyville, but the most consists of a pocketed vest that only goes halfway down the barrel and leaves the colorful marks on their flanks exposed. Three stallions in the back - light gray, dark bluish gray, brown - have marks of multicolored explosions, and the sort of neutral expressions one would expect of bodyguards or henchmen. One stallion, brown-gray with a mark of a gold skull, cockily smiles next to a grinning pegasus mare, white and green hat on her light gold head, and a mark of a gold and blue compass rose.

“Ain’t they a catch?” Storied Pages says dreamily as she returns, setting a small business card next to the picture. She sighs wistfully, gazing off into the distance. “If there’s one group of ponies as interested in those fables as me?” She taps the business card.

“Research, Inquest, Procurement,” Doug reads aloud. “Need something? We find anything. For the right price.” He puts the card, which also has an address in Canterlot, back down on the table. “Huh. I wonder what the ‘right price’ is.”

“For extradimensional travel?” Storied Pages whistles drearily. “Probably looking at ten thousand bits just for them to make a serious inquiry. Though I’m just pulling numbers out of thin air. But that’s just like how you got here, right?” She winks as she motions to the card. “Can’t hurt to ask them. Even if the most they can suggest is an enchanted tome to take you to a temporary dimension.”

“I guess not,” Doug says, memorizing the address. Where am I going to get a lot of money? No, scratch that. An awful lot of money? Life insurance scam? Or I just need them to accept a check cashable back home. If I even want to go home. Also, enchanted? Temporary dimensions? Is that like virtual reality? “But I woke up this morning, as far as I can tell, in a completely different dimension.”

Storied Pages takes the card and photograph, replacing them on the shelf with a longing sigh. “What makes you think you’re in a different dimension? If it’s close enough to your own that we can breathe the same air, understand each other, and even read the same writing? How do you know it’s different, and you didn’t just transport to the other side of the world?”

“Well, for one, ponies don’t talk where I’m from.” Doug shrugs helplessly, his hands spreading from his sides.

“They don’t talk?” Storied Pages repeats, surprised for the first time, as she returns to her coffee. “That’s… odd.”

“No,” Doug confirms, his voice hard and sure. “Plus, horns and wings aren’t exactly common. In fact, ponies with them don’t exist. Other than in fictional stories.”

“No pegasi or unicorns?” Storied Pages frowns at the assertion. “But there are earth ponies?”

Doug nods. So that’s what they call the normal ones. “Sort of? We just call them ponies.”

She snorts. “Regardless of the name, you’d have to treat somepony real bad for them to stay quiet.”

Doug frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. This isn’t going well, not at all. “No, it’s not like that. Their owners would treat them very well.”

Storied Pages goes very still, and very quiet, her cup of coffee stopping halfway to her mouth.

“They’d have to,” Doug continues quickly, not quite oblivious to her change in demeanor. “Not just because it’d be obvious if the horses were mistreated, but because they loved and cared for them very much. Plus, who wants to ride a horse who doesn’t want to run?”

“And these... whorses…” Storied Pages whispers, furtively glancing towards the front door. Doug is in the way. The kitchen behind her is a dead end. “Would they use a saddle, or other equipment?”

“...It does make riding them more comfortable,” Doug explains conversationally, slightly bobbing his head up and down and trying to keep his smile pleasant. “I mean, some people would ride bareback, but that’s far less common, and potentially, ahem, painful.” He coughs nervously, covering his mouth with a hand.

A flash of anger crosses Storied Pages’ face. She spits out, “And a bit and bridle? Or do they not need that, since they know better than to speak?”

“Well, yes, but that’s to control which way they go.” Doug pauses for a second. “Wait, how do you know what a bit and bridle are? And a saddle, for that matter.”

“I’m not that young,” the mare snaps, and Doug realizes he has no idea how old she actually is. And that she might be talking about something completely different. “And if you’re going to dominate a mare like that? Might as well make her a slave while you’re at it, right? You’re no better than those moon-cursed Abyssinians!”

“They’re not slaves,” Doug counters quickly.

Storied Pages raises an eyebrow, disbelief plain. “So you pay them.”

“Not me, exactly, I’ve never owned an animal outside of two cats and a dog, but in terms of food, and shelter, yes. But-”

“But not in bits?” Storied Pages interrupts.

“No, not in dollars, our currency,” Doug says with a shake of his head, “because they couldn’t use it.”

Storied Pages fumes at the nostrils at the audacity. “And when you’re not riding them, they can just roam free? Go wherever they wish?”

“Well, sort of,” Doug says with a grimace. “They’d be confined to the ranch or wherever they live, you wouldn’t want them out wandering the streets or something.”

“Celestia forbid they find work without your ‘assistance’,” Storied Pages spits out. She restlessly paces back and forth, her head trained on Doug the entire time. “Even if all you let them do is sell their bodies like a common pig. Do you let them choose who they date, or do you control that aspect of their lives, too?”

Doug’s eye twitches. “Look, we’re talking about two completely different subjects. Ponies where I’m from, they’re just…” Doug trails off, frowning. “They’re not smart enough to talk.”

Storied Pages stares at Doug for several long seconds. “So what am I then? A figment of your imagination?”

“No,” Doug says forcefully. “Remember what I said about alternate dimensions? So far, you’re acting just like a human, and nothing like an equine. We’re having a conversation, something impossible with a horse. Outside of very basic commands. You share a name, yes, and some physical characteristics, but otherwise you’re nothing alike.”

Storied Pages mulls over his words. “And you just want to find a way back home. That would require a portal. Yes?”

Doug nods, relieved and smiling. “Yes. Well, sort of. I don’t know anything about portals. And I might not want to leave just yet.” He looks around the library, gazing fondly at the hundreds of books surrounding him.

Her words cut hard. “And you’re unaware that portals work both ways, and would allow your pony-slaving kind a way here?”

“We don’t enslave ponies,” Doug counters harshly, his temper flaring. “And that wasn’t my intent. And we-” he cuts himself off, turning his head away from the mare to hide his look of shame. We as a species definitely could, if not would, subjugate a land like this given the opportunity. Despite their obvious sapience.

“Of course,” Storied Pages says with a snort. “You must use a different word for when you take a sentient life form, bend it to your will and force it to do whatever, or whoever, you please.”

“And you don’t?” Doug’s hard expression returns as he motions to the library carved from a tree, staring her down. “You don’t bend the environment to your will, domesticate the animals around you, and shape walls to keep the wilds and weather out?”

“Not like that! We strive to live in Harmony with the land and each other. Now, not everypony is perfect, I’ll grant you that, but everycreature gets to choose that place. Even the pigs.” Her eyes narrow, watching him intently. “Can you say the same?”

“I’m not looking to turn anyone into a slave, if that’s what you’re asking,” Doug says, trying to keep his voice reasonable. “I’m looking for the same thing you said. Find a place, and there’s a whole wonderful world out there waiting to be explored.” He motions back to the encyclopedias, offering a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you don’t need me telling you about the amazing things out there, if this world is anything like my own.”

Storied Pages continues regarding him with suspicion, but she loses a lot of the naked hostility. “And I’m just supposed to believe that you don’t mean us any harm? You’re not going to go out and start bending upstanding mares to your will?”

“I’m not. If I could prove it, I would,” Doug says, trying to give her a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t seem to have the intended effect. “Look, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Doug pauses at the way she cocks her head to the side, a flash of confusion across her face. “Hoof? Anyway, I, um,” Doug says, scratching his chest with one hand. He glances down, as if just realizing that he is still naked. “I don’t suppose you know of a tailor? Someone who makes clothes?”

“I know what a tailor is,” she snaps. Her glare fades as she sees his smile falter, letting loose a sigh. “Rarity, at the Carousel Boutique, if you’re looking for something custom. Now, is there anything else?”

“No, I guess not,” Doug says feebly. He sighs at the mare’s harsh stare. “Well, thanks for your time.”

Storied Pages merely watches him as he leaves, then picks up his glass and holds it at leg’s length as she returns to the kitchen. A glance around confirms everything is where it should be, not that he had anywhere to conceal something, and she slips outside.

Next Chapter: Ch. 4 - Aurseize Estimated time remaining: 16 Hours, 26 Minutes