After literally needing to push open the door of the room with my face, I veer my head back and spit out the taste of doorknob from my mouth.

Okay, who was the fucking genius in this world who decided that ponies should have rounded doorknobs on their doors when they only have fucking hooves to open it?

This is beyond ridiculous! This is absolutely insane!

I could barely get my mouth around it, too. Once I did, I had to twist my head to the side and risk breaking my goddamn neck in the process!

It really seems as if this stupid thing was not designed for ponies. It's more like a way to imprison ponies until other species with hands . . . or maybe also magic horns . . . opens it for them.

GodDAMN it! How is this species still alive when they are . . . this . . . DUMB?!

And I thought my species is stupid, but this is a whole new dimension of pure, asinine retardation.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

It works.

I open my eyes and assess my new surroundings.

Okay . . . wow! This whole place seems to be made of that same purple crystal. I wonder if that's true for the whole town, or even the whole world.

Taking a closer examination of it, I notice another fascinating detail. There seems to be no seam or crease to the walls at all. It is as if the castle was grown straight out of the ground.

I look ahead and then behind me. I am apparently in a hallway designed with a kind of slow, gradual curve. Architecturally, it's really quite fascinating.

I may not be an expert in the field myself (though I probably could be if I really set my mind to it), but I do like to study architectural designs on the internet.

For some reason the ancient Greek designs fascinate me the most, probably because of my love of geometry and appreciation for its early development in mankind's history.

That said, a lot of modern designs are deliberately creative. It's really quite amazing how far we've come with that in my world.

See, Cozy? You're not always a pessimist.

My ears steer forward as I hear some talking creatures approach. I briefly panic because I'm too exposed. I'm still wearing nothing other than my necklace and headband. If anybody from this dimension has met the other Cozy Glow, I'd be easily recognizable right now as long as I lack any kind of disguise.

With no other cover I can think of, I press my back against the door beside me. That only provided the door frame itself as my cover. This isn't going to work at all.

Well, I could try going through the door, genius!

But there is one problem with that.

I turn around and glare at my most hated nemesis for the moment, a common doorknob.

So . . . we meet again, Mr. Doorknob.

I shut my eyelids halfway.

Come on, Cozy Glow! Seriously, think! There has got to be a better way of doing this.

I assess my current resources. When I take a moment to take stock of it, my wings come to mind.

So far I have not tried to move them at all. Maybe they can better solve my current doorknob dilemma?

I better hurry. Those creatures are getting closer.

I focus hard on one of my wings, the right in this case, as I reach my mind to try to stretch the new, alien appendage. It works a little, but my mind is having a hard time processing this sensation. To compensate, I try to imagine it as one of my arms or hands.

It works a little better. They budge a bit more.

Then I change my tactics. Instead of trying to control them, I instead focus on merely feeling them. I even brush my right wing against the door in order to register the sensation. In this way, I am trying to train my brain to recognize the existence of the alien appendage.

I could almost feel my mind swiftly forming new neural pathways in an effort to compensate for this startling new information.

My second attempt to move my right wing is far more successful. The wing stretches from my side. I even manage to spread individual feathers on my wing like spreading fingers on my human hands.

Fascinating!

Hello, New Appendage. My name is Cozy Glow. Since you are now a new part of my body, let's try to get along, shall we? Come on. Work with me here.

I know it's a long shot, but I stretch my wing and try to “grasp” the doorknob with the tips of my feathers. I am stunned to not only see this strategy working, but I could also feel the doorknob with the tips of my feathers as if my feathers have nerves in them.

In that case, would I scream in agony if anyone tries to cut my hair? Can I also grasp things with my hair . . . I mean mane . . . too?

Geeze! This world sure has weird, quirky logic.

Anyway, I manage to grasp then twist the doorknob open. After that, I ram my whole body into the door to push it open.

I step inside then quickly scan the new room to see if the coast is clear. It is.

Stepping inside, I lean forward a bit and peak around the door.

There are two creatures approaching this area. One looks like an ordinary horse if it isn't for the unusual colors he had and the fact he could talk, and the other creature is . . . a griffin? They have mythological griffins in this world?

Well, if they have pegasi and unicorns then hey! Why the hell not?

It seems the griffin can talk, too. This starts to make me wonder what kinds of species in this world can't talk.

I shut the door with a wing. I even manage to do it more quickly and smoothly. I then regard my new appendage.

Okay. You are useful. I'm glad we are getting to know each other.

Since my wing did not respond, I fold it on my back again as I think to myself, “Okay. Good talk.”

Then I pause and assess my new room.

Well, it looks a lot like the first room, except this one is much smaller and it is furnished for someone to live here instead of merely acting as a storage space. This room has a bed, a desk with a mirror behind it, and lots of pictures hanging around the mirror. There are a bunch of books on the sides of the desk and unfinished scrolls on the middle of the desk.

Using my wings, I sift through some of the books and scrolls. When I read the first few lines, I narrow my eyes at the text and give a thin smile. As I suspected, it is written in Equestrian script, but I actually came prepared for that, thanks to Sunset Shimmer.

“Really?” Sunset had once asked me when I first showed interest in the subject. “But . . . why? Why would you want to be able to read Equestrian script? We don't live in Equestria, so it's kind of a dead language around here.”

At the time, the real reason I wanted to be taught Equestrian script was to be able to read her texts on her magical laptop once I find a way to hack into her computer.

But, of course, that is not what I told her. Instead, I gave her a half-truth. I told her that I was interested in learning in order to challenge my mind. I also told her that it was unknown how long magical portals existed between our two worlds. It was possible it may have existed for centuries. In that case, I might find other Equestrian scripts in our world if I continue investigating this, and I wanted to be prepared for that. I knew that Sunset Shimmer came from Horse-Land and she knew the language, which made her a very rare resource for me. Plus, if I learn this, then I could pass it onto others. I could use it like a secret code language.

Sunset shrugged and said that sounded reasonable to her. She continued to regard it as a very unusual request, but it also pleased her to realize I was so eager to learn her native language. Sunset then admitted that it would be nice to communicate with another using Equestrian script because that, in turn, could help her keep up her own practice with it as well.

“Use it or lose it,” Sunset realized, then beamed at me happily. “Sure, Cozy! I'd love to teach you! I am a teacher, after all. Spreading knowledge to eager young students like you really brightens up my day.”

I secretly narrowed my eyes at her slightly even as I gave her a bright, grateful smile.

I knew you'd say that. You goody-two-shoes types are sooooo predictable, but that does not mean useless. When your heart bleeds in the water like this, you shouldn't be surprised when a shark eventually takes a bite out of you.

“Checkmate, Sunset! You've fallen right into my trap!”

Thanks to Sunset's earlier training, which I mostly gained as an e-mail correspondence to and from Sunset in Equestrian script (I even completed a lot of homework assignments using that method), I am able to get the gist of these books and notes right now.

Speaking of homework assignments, that appears to be the vast majority of the contents on this desk. The format of the books, as well as the notes written on the desk, appear to be largely academic, except there is one thing unusual about it. It does seem to focus some on common academic stuff, but a vast majority of these texts seem to emphasize the importance of friendship in some form or fashion.

Because of these notes and textbooks, I calculate a sixty-seven percent chance there is a school nearby that puts an emphasis on that repulsive subject alone.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the room I'm standing in isn't just someone's personal bedroom, it's a school dormitory.

Fascinating . . . and ultimately irrelevant. I know that “friendship” is just a pretty label to dress up an ugly truth, but these ponies or creatures or whatever they are can waste their time with such frivolities if they want to. The more they blind themselves to the truth, the easier it will be for people like me to exploit them, and that is A-Okay in my book.

Well, this may be a student dormitory, but guess what one thing it doesn't have.

Yeah. I guessed it . . . clothes! Fricken clothes! One of the most common things in my world seems suspiciously absent here. Of course the one thing I came in here specifically looking for, I find everything but.

Even in these pictures. This . . . weird . . . hawk/horse thingy. It can't be a griffin. I saw one of those already. That seemed more like an eagle/lion combo, but this creature has more pony parts instead.

Of course, if that is true, why is there so much sea-themed memorabilia on her desk? This doesn't add up.

Oh well. It doesn't matter. This room lacks what I came for, so I should stop wasting my time here.

I look back at the door and steer my ears towards it too. I hear more activity starting to rise out there. It might mean the students at some local college are returning soon. I hear several talking among each other outside. The volume of theirs is acutely starting to rise.

The odds are escalating that the one who lives in this room will return soon. If she returns and finds me standing here, it's going to be a hassle to explain myself, and yet I can't venture out of this room without being caught either.

Damn it! What am I going to do?

I look around more carefully, then spot something that is a possible salvation, a window to this room. A small circular window with a t-shaped bar in the center of it.

Chance!

I approach it while praying desperately that it has the capacity to swing open. That should help with ventilation of the room, after all. It should be a safety hazard to not have it open. Besides, it can serve as an emergency exit, which is exactly what I need right now.

Still, I am concerned. Logic and this world have not gotten along, as far as I can tell.

I am lucky! This window can indeed open. It is somewhat high, though. I had to pull up the chair and stand on it just to reach it, and that is merely to open the window. Climbing up to it required me to leap a bit. I latch my frontal hooves and wings over the windowsill. My bottom hooves flail frantically, scratching at the amethyst wall in an effort to climb up.

Eventually I succeed, but then I face a new problem . . . getting down from the other side.

At first it looks easy. The ground on the other side is only about six to eight feet down.

As I stare at it, however, something I don't expect happens to me. The distance seems to magnify for a brief moment then return to normal. The ground on the other side feels a lot further away than it actually is.

I panic, which really catches me off guard. I have no idea why I feel this way, but the “short” fall on the other side has really rattled me for some reason.

I don't believe this! It's only six to eight feet down. Where the hell are all these feelings inside me coming from?

I try to inch my way to the edge to examine my options better, but that explosive sense of panic snaps me back against the window on the outside. Pushing against it with my back, I inadvertently shut the window from the other side. I now have no room to maneuver in order to open the window again from the outside.

I'm stuck! I can't go back the way I came but I can't advance forward either because . . . I'm scared of heights?

This is pathetic! I must be the only goddamn pegasus in the world right now that is actually scared of heights!

My frontal hooves press hard on the sides of the windowsill to help hold me in place. My back and wings are pressed to the window. I hyperventilate. I feel my blood pressure dropping. I may not have my watch on me, but I know the signs. My head clogs up. My throat and nose clog up. I feel pressure rising on my eardrums. It feels like it's pushing outward.

My panic deepens when I realize I don't have my inhaler or insulin injection. Even if I had recalled to bring it, however, there is no guarantee it would not have been modified anyway. If I brought my inhaler, for example, what guarantee do I have that it wouldn't transform into a sugar cube? My locket seems unmodified, but my clothes disappeared entirely. Currently that is one of my biggest problems besides my current dilemma.

I feel dizzy. The world is spinning around me. For once, I am not prepared to counter this. I knew I might face unexpected problems in Horse-Land, but goddamn it! Not even thinking about bringing my inhaler or emergency insulin really is my bad.

I'm going to fall at this rate. I'm just too dizzy, and yet the height really bothers me for some reason.

My heart pumps harder and harder in my chest. After a while, it becomes the only thing I can hear. That and an intense ringing in my ears that grows louder and louder, drowning out everything else.

The world fades to black in my perception.

“Help me!” a much younger version of my voice cries out in the darkness. “I'm ready to get down now. Please let me down! I'll be a good girl! I promise! I won't be scared anymore. Just please . . . somebody help me! Please! I'm stuck.

“Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!” the young voice repeats in my mind over and over again.

In an instant, my perception snaps back awake.

Oh, damn it! Is this where the feeling of panic is coming from? Not that goddamn dream again! I thought I was fucking over this years ago, but apparently not.

I bang my head against the window behind me several times while I mentally berate myself.

Damn it! Damn it! This can't be happening to me! I am Cozy Glow, the Shadow Queen! What would my minions think of me if they saw me behaving this weak and pathetic now? I am an intelligent, talented, and charismatic leader! I can conquer any puzzle or challenge in front of me. Now fucking ACT LIKE IT!

I look around. There has got to be a rational way to handle this, like say . . . my fucking wings? I am a goddamn pegasus right now, am I not?

I look over my shoulder at my wings, then realize that I did not have enough practice with them to consider them reliable. True, they are an option, but maybe not the only one or even the best one.

I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep, calming breath.

Okay, think Cozy Glow. It's what I’m best at. Examine everything. There is no puzzle I can't overcome. That's just who I am.

I peak over the edge again. I fight back a reflexive sense of panic and really try to examine my situation as it is.

It's just six to eight feet. This should be no biggie. The worst that can happen is spraining an ankle, but there is only a two point eight-zero percent chance that something deadly will happen like breaking my back or snapping my neck. It's not that far down! Only my fears are magnifying the distance because of that stupid dream I had many years ago.

For a brief moment my mind spins with the possibility of the worst-case scenario. Cozy Glow . . . one of the greatest geniuses in earth's history is killed in some foreign world and in the body of an alien species. How long would it take for anyone to realize I am missing in my world? How long would it take for local residents to identify my body? When that comes to pass, I could just imagine the message on my tombstone. “Here lies Cozy Glow, the only fucking pegasus to die from a six foot drop. Unbelievable!”

I shake my head. It does not help my situation to get lost in my imagination.

Then I notice something, I'm holding my place right now by pressing both of my hooves against opposite sides of the windowsill. I may not have fingers in this form in order to cling to the windowsill, but maybe, if I could turn around and lower myself while continuing to push outward on both sides of the window, I can lower the distance for myself safely before I make the final drop.

If worse comes to worse, I can also use my wings to glide down. How much effort does it take to just hold them straight?

There is a part of my mind that nags me that there must be a better way to handle this, but screw it! I just want to go down already! I'm tired of panicking up here. It makes me feel pathetic, and I hate that feeling! Weaknesses within me must be destroyed without mercy!

So I attempt my plan . . . carefully. I inch my way around until my front side is facing the window. Then, from there, I slowly lower to my knees then slide them off the edge of the windowsill. While I'm doing that, I push outwardly on both sides of the windowsill. The pressure of that push helps me hold my place.

I feel panic attempt to rise within me again when I feel my legs dangling over the edge of the window uselessly. There is no latch that they can find. At this point most of my weight is over the edge anyway. I've crossed the point of no return.

My hooves scrape the edge of the windowsill. I'm slipping!

I push out harder. It momentarily works, but it is an enormous muscle strain, and I've never been one to be athletic. My legs in pony form do seem to be a bit stronger, but not by much.

My rear hooves scrape over and over again against the wall in panic. They want to find a perch, but find none.

Panic clouds my mind again. I struggle against it so hard, but this situation isn't sustainable. I've got to let go! I need to take the plunge. I've already lowered myself as much as I could. It's probably only a three foot drop now, but it feels so much further!

My panic really skyrockets when the door to the room I came from opens. A weird hawk/pony thing enters the room and dumps her book bags, which look more like saddlebags, inside her room near the door. She has mostly white feathers across her body except along her top. There she has a mixture of purple and blue streak of feathers running down her head, neck, and along the top of her back. For two seconds she is waving goodbye to someone else I can't see. When she looks forward, however, she freezes upon sighting me clinging desperately on the other side of her window.

Being caught like this raises my emotions beyond my ability to control, especially since I still don't have a disguise at all. Before I think of any way to remedy this, I fall.

I scream as I fall. It really is only a three foot drop, but goddamn did it feel like so much more.

I crash to the ground with a reflexive, “Umph!” sound escaping my lips.

Only then did it occur to me I could have used the blankets on her bed as a kind of rope. I could have secured one end to something heavy in her room, then the other end looped around any of my hooves or bitten by my teeth.

One-hundred and ninety-seven IQ my ass! Way to go, genius!

I hear the weird creature thing shriek in panic when she saw me fall. The sound she made could not possibly be made by a human throat. More like the shriek of a hawk. Four seconds later she flew up to the window and then pushes it open. She gazes down at me from above in concern.

“Miss? Are you alright?!” she asks me in panic and concern.

I turn around. The least I could do is hide my face with the rest of my body. I also wobble my way to a stand. I'm still not used to pony physiology yet. It's hard to rise quickly straight off the ground like this. Standing on these legs is like trying to balance myself on four long stilts, which is still a whole lot easier than balancing myself on two long stilts.

“Miss? Miss? Are you alright?” the weird hawk/pony presses in concern. “Do you need to see a doctor or at least a nurse?”

“Leave me alone!” I cry back at her with more volume than I initially intended. “I'm fine. Just . . . go back to whatever you were doing.”

“Why were you clinging to the outside of my window anyway?” the creature asks in confusion. “And why did you need to cling at all? Are your wings injured? Did you fall from a greater height?”

“I said leave me ALONE!”

I try to run away.

Or gallop, I should say.

And epically fail!

Again, due to not being accustomed to pony physiology, the attempt to race forward while balancing myself on four long stilts is more than I can bear. Not but two steps later I already fall and crash on my face. My face even skids in the dirt a bit. I end up making a horsey snort and spit out dirt from my mouth.

“Oh my Celestia! Um . . . don't panic! Just stay right there! I'm going to go get some help!” the creature cries out behind me in great fear.

But she does not squeeze herself out the window. Apparently she is too big for that. Instead, she races away, presumably to get more help and then leave through the true exit of this crystal dormitory.

Come to think of it, getting out that window was a tight squeeze for me, too. Apparently using the windows as an emergency escape has limited value.

There is a part of me that appreciates her concern, but I cannot let her or whomever she summons find me. I need to press on.

As I struggle to stand again, I think to myself, “Did she just say, 'Oh my Celestia?'” Celestia . . . as in the former Principal of Canterlot before my mother?

Um, well . . . that could be just a coincidence. I heard there are many unusual parallels between our two worlds, however. It really made me wonder.

I'll file that thought away for later. Right now I need to book it!

Well, by tomorrow this entire story will have been up online for exactly one month. Feb 10th to March 10th. Already it has more likes than another story of mine that's been posted for over a year. The number of bookshelves storage is nearly as high, and tracking exceeds "Sky Dancer" by a small margin as of this date, March 9th.

Well, I've learned my lesson, I guess. Give people what they want and the story will succeed more. Less OC focused and shorter chapters. I think you guys can handle longfics (which this one is shaping up to be. I got 222 pages on this story so far) as long as the chapters themselves are more bite-size.

Thank you all for reading the story, and for the high likelihood that you are enjoying it. I got plenty more for you to come.

If you feel like you can't wait, then PM me with an e-mail address and express your interest to take a look at my google docs version. With it, I can send you a link to my Gdocs version of the story as well as permission to edit it. As of yesterday, I'm up to Chapter 29 with this story. The Gdocs version will allow you to correct the story and make it better for everyone before posting it here, so let me know if you're interested.

I try to update my original version with at least a chapter a day. So far they all vary in length between 4 to 15 pages, although i did have one briefly as 17 pages until I realized it really should be two sperate chapters.

I'll continue to post my story here every Sunday/Monday with a chapter unless I get to a multi-part chapter. If so, I'll post a chapter a day until they are done. For example, chapters 15 to 18 are technically one chapter but i broke it up into four separate parts. So, when I get to chap 15, I'll post a chapter a day until 18 so hopefully, you'll look forward to that.