As I expect from what I gathered on the inside of the dormitory, the outside seems to be made of purple crystal seemingly grown straight off the ground.

I bank around the curved building just to get away from the window I climbed out of. I don't want to be caught when that student and her concerned entourage try to catch up and try to assist me. I appreciate their concern, but I don't want to be caught right now, especially while I am this exposed.

But then I encounter something else I don’t expect. I spot a purple and yellow wagon with giant blue stars painted at the top. From the back end I am looking at, I see a small door which is elevated about two feet off the ground.

Despite its small size, it looks like somebody could live in there. Perhaps that person is there right now.

For a moment I am tempted to avoid it for that very reason, but then I spot something that grabs my attention. The yellow-rim wheels of this wagon has an overgrowth of vegetation at the bottom of it. Whoever owns this wagon, it has been parked here for a very long time, which might indicate that perhaps it's vacant after all. If that's true, then the stuff in there is unguarded as well. Perhaps I'll finally get lucky and find a decent disguise?

Before I even approach close to the thing, I circle around it to gather as much information as I can.

The wagon is about eight feet long, five foot high, and four feet wide. Visible at the center of it is a single-window facing to the left. To the sides of that window are a pair of purple window shutters with wavy yellow rim. In the center of those shutters are a bunch of yellow stars painted on it as well as a single crescent moon which has another star within that crest.

Something about that design pattern seems familiar to me.

At the front of the wagon is a long hitch and harness. That hitch droops down so that the harness is in direct contact with the ground. Vegetation, specifically grass, has greedily started to claim the harness as well, indicating at least a few months of neglect.

Facing the wagon from the front, I had to lean to the left in order to see the right side of the wagon since it hugs too close to the purple crystal wall for me to squeeze in. All I saw there that is noteworthy is another window, and it seemed to match the one on the other side.

Before checking if there is indeed an occupant in there, I silently just listen to it for about four minutes. Within that time, I notice total silence from the wagon. Not a soul seems to dwell within for the moment.

I approach closer and make my way to the back of the wagon. There I use my left hoof to gently rap on the door. I wait for a response, but none comes.

I smile deviously.

Oh, this is perfect! An unguarded wagon full of stuff. Whether or not it is useful stuff remains to be seen.

I check around me to see if the coast is clear. Largely it seems the answer is yes. In fact, not many buildings are visible at all in this direction. The vast majority of the buildings to this town seem to be on the other side of the dormitory from where I am standing.

The only building I can kind of see seems to be the school this dormitory is for.

Actually, it looks pretty impressive. It's more like a miniature castle built on the side of a mountain and on top of a green hill. The front door seems to even lead within the green hill. Those doors are flanked by two artificial waterfalls, and two more further to the left and right of the entrance. Most of the structure appears to be lilac in color. It has a pretty feminine design over all.

I like it! It has a medieval fairy-tale aesthetic to it which reminds me of something I've seen in world famous theme parks back in my world. I'd probably feel like a storybook princess every time I entered its threshold.

I wish Canterlot High looked that exciting.

Oh well. Back to the wagon.

Having learned my lesson when it comes to doorknobs, I reach for it with my left wing. While I do so, I contemplate a puzzle. I can open the doorknob with my wings and a unicorn can open it with their horn. How the hell is an earth pony supposed to do this?

I get a good grip on the doorknob and I turn it just fine, but I have trouble pulling it open. From the feel of it, it seems jammed by something. I try tugging at it harder and harder, and eventually I succeed. I manage to pull the door open. Upon success, I immediately regret my decision as an avalanche of stuff falls on top of me. At least now I know why the door was jammed a moment ago.

Ouch!

I shake my body to get the stuff off of me then crawl to safer ground. Once there, I look back at the mess here. My eyes widen at the large pile of mishmash knick knacks I see. That trail continues up into the wagon.

What a fricken slob! Whomever once lived in this wagon, would that person not feel more comfortable in a pigsty? I'm sure this person could use the upgrade!

Whatever! I'm not here to judge this person's standard of living. I'm here to solve one of my problems, which now includes the mess that I just inadvertently made.

For a brief moment I sift through the pile of junk while contemplating how I can possibly put all this stuff back in order to clean up the evidence of my tampering, but then something else occurs to me.

Wait a second. What the hell am I doing? I'm not this person's maid so I'm not going to clean up this stuff. It might be neglected anyway.

What I am going to do, however, is potentially rob from this person. I'll consider it tax for subjecting me to this unsightly filth.

The stuff that spilled out of the wagon looks relatively spread out already. I could tell from a glance that I would not find what I am seeking here. Instead, all I can see appear to be stage props for a performance of some kind.

I look at the entrance of the wagon with a wince of disgust. I really don't want to do this, but I'm forced to adapt to this alien world. I'll do as I must, no matter how much this repulses me.

Reluctantly, I climb my way into the wagon. I have a difficult time finding a safe perch for each of my hooves. My balance is tricky enough as it is, but to be subjected to this . . . what have I done to deserve this?

Hmm. On second thought, I should probably end that train of thought right there. There is no need to go too deep into the rabbit hole of my karma just yet. I got enough to deal with on my “hooves” as it is.

Speaking of hooves, ew! Gross! I think I stepped in something squishy, unidentified, and I probably want to leave it unidentified.

And god, the smell of this place! It smells like horse piss in here. It probably is.

Then my eye caught sight of something interesting. On the wall of the inside of the wagon, I notice a poster. On it, is the image of a blue mare with a mystic look on her face. She's wearing a purple hat with lots of stars on it, and she is hovering between her hooves something which I can only describe as a dragonball.

Wait a second! Is that . . . Trixie?

I lean closer to the poster to examine it better. It was the horse face that initially threw me off, but the more I study her face, her expression and her sense of style, the more I can't deny it. That has got to be the ponified version of the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon.

Oh wow!

I close my eyelids halfway while passing a sly smile at the poster.

I wonder if this version of Trixie is also a talentless hack who's nevertheless so full of herself that she thinks she's giving the best performance in the world.

As far as idiots are concerned, however, I kind of like Trixie. I find her adorable even as a human. I'd probably like the horse version of her ten times more.

It's mostly her ego that sells her to me. I like how she is so obliviously dumb by not even realizing how worthless and pathetic she is. For that reason alone, I actually do find her entertaining. Just not in the way she thinks.

Moving on, I continue to explore the tiny wagon which is crowded with stuff until I eventually come across something that might serve my purpose. In fact, I found three things.

One was a purple cape with lots of blue stars on the back.

Another is a hat that has a wide brim so it could serve to shield my face if I merely tilt it down.

The last item I find is large glasses with a human-looking nose on it and a mustache along with it. It looks positively goofy, but it would serve to hide my face. If it can work for Clark Kent, then the nose and mustache could serve as overkill.

Swiping the cloak off a hook on the wall with a wing, I pull it close to my face and sniff it, then recoil my face from the cloak.

Okay, Trixie, we need to have a serious discussion. Moreover, I need to introduce you to someone who has been a good and dear friend of mine pretty much all of my life.

Trixie Lulamoon, meet Shower! You two desperately need to get acquainted.

Oh god, I wish beggars could be choosers at this moment! Not only do these things smell bad, but they look gaudy and downright ridiculous.

Oh, how the mighty hath fallen. I guess that's what I get for stepping into an alien world so unprepared, but Princess Twilight forced my hand.

However, these things are also the first I've ever encountered in Horse-Land that came close to adequate purpose for me, and they are unguarded to boot. I hate to admit it, but this may be as close to a lucky find as I'm going to get today. I guess I should count my blessings because I may get less of them here than I'm otherwise accustomed to.

But still . . .

Damn it, Trixie, I'll get you for this! Mark my words! I won't go too hard on you because you've also kind of saved my cutie marked butt most likely, but someday . . . cruel irony is coming your way when you least suspect it.

I never forget who owes me a debt.

Never forget, and never forgive!

* * *

Oh . . . my . . . GOD! These ponies are so ADORABLE!

I really have to fight hard to restrain myself, or there would be a large serial assault of non-consensual hugging today. The main problem with that strategy is it conflicts with my “keep a low profile” and “try to look sane” agendas. There is a chance that some of them might actually appreciate and gladly return the gesture, but the odds are too strong that most of these ponies would feel uncomfortable at best.

After all, they don't know how adorable they are because they were born and raised this way all of their lives. To them, this is just downright normal, which somehow makes them look even more adorable to me! I watch them trot around me and just go about their daily business like nothing special is going on, but the looks on their faces are just . . . so . . . MMM!

Urge to squeeze them . . . rising!

I also just can’t shake the feeling they’d inadvertently make a squeaking sound if I did that, just like squeezing a rubber ducky.

The thing I find really fascinating about them is their faces because it's not quite like a horse. It's too human for that, but not in a creepy way. More like the cute and cuddly way. I think it's the much shorter muzzle, compared to normal horses, that is the biggest difference. That and their big . . . anime . . . eyes! Those eyes are so full of life and expressive. That's also why I can tell that, for the most part, the average citizens in this town seem happy and content.

For a moment, while trotting in their quaint little town, I contemplate how they would look like if they were drawn as cartoon characters. If I imagine that someone else had already done that, then take my big, purple, stupid hat off to that person. Whoever designed these ponies, if anyone, is a freaking genius! I'd love to shake his or her theoretical hand if that person existed.

The reason I say that is because I think these ponies’ designs are extremely marketable in my world. If I were to copy their design in my world and make a toy or comic book based on them, I'd buy it! I wish it was already for sale.

Wait a second!

I stop in place.

This gives me a brilliant idea!

A devious expression sinks deep into my adorable pony face.

YES! Cozy, you've done it again, you evil genius! These ponies most likely are marketable in my world, but that's the thing . . . nobody has done it yet!

At least, not to my knowledge.

These ponies designs are known to a few in my world. Some of them might have even visited this world personally on rare occasions, especially Sunset Shimmer from what I can tell, but none of them paused to think about how profitable banking on these ponies designs could be in my world! If I'm the first, I could end up starting an entire successful franchise! I'll be rich in no time!

I can see the headlines now!

“Cozy Glow . . . the first female president in the country . . . who also designed one of the most successful comic books, cartoon series, and toys of pastel, marshmallow ponies on the market today! Her brilliant genius has no end in sight!”

I feel like laughing maniacally right now and twisting my fake mustache into a curl, much like my curly teal “mane” that I carefully tucked under this gaudy purple hat. Cue the dark flash of lightning and thunderstorm in the background behind me.

“Is that you, Trixie?” somebody asks me. “What are you doing out here? I thought you'd be at your office by now.”

My right eye twitches in irritation for being mistaken for Trixie.

I turn to the speaker but tilt my hat down to avoid direct eye contact with the speaker, but that also means I can't see who he is. From what I can tell from his blue hooves and hear from his voice, I can at least assume I'm addressing a stallion.

“Gee-willikers, Mister. Ah . . . no. I'm not Trixie. Instead I'm . . . just a fan of hers who-” eye twitches again “-really . . . really enjoys her sense of style, so I thought to myself . . . I got to get an outfit to match hers. Pick what you like then wear it loud and proud, I always say!”

Oh god! My poor brain! I think I can hear my brain cells just popping because of this! Ouch! This hurts!

“Oh. Well that's cool, I guess. Trixie always did have her own sense of style.”

I calm down a bit as I say honestly, “I agree.”

What's wrong with his voice? He sounds a little scratchy, as if he recently recovered from having a cold or something.

We stand in awkward silence for four seconds. I see him nervously swing his right forward leg back and forth for a moment, then he declares, “Well, sorry for bothering you. I was just curious, is all, since your outfit looks like hers. Glad to see she has some fans! It seems like she can really use some.”

I sense him about to leave, but I speak out to stop him because I preceive a valuable opportunity here to gather some intel. After all, that is why I came to Horse-Land in the first place.

“Wait! Hold on a second. I wonder if you can help me.”

“With what?” he asks as he turns to presumably look at me again. I'm not sure because I can't see his face, nor can he see mine, which is the point.

In fact, I should probably explain that to alleviate suspicion on that front.

“Another thing I like about Trixie's style is her wide brim hat. It helps me to shield my eyes from the sun, because my eyes are quite sensitive.”

“Oh! Well, I guess it's a good thing you have that, then,” the stallion agrees.

“Also, I'm ah . . . kind of shy.” I shuffle my hooves nervously. “I always have been,” I lie. Almost a complete lie. “That's why I admire Trixie so much! She’s so bold and brave for what she does, performing on stage like that! That’s also why my mother sent me here to the local school, to learn about friendship and stuff. Her hope was that, by attending this school, it would help me build up my confidence and help me make some friends.”

“Good for you!” he cheers. “That is very brave of you to step outside your comfort zone like this.”

Yeah! No kidding!

“Anyway, I was, ah . . . hoping you can help me with a homework assignment I've been given,” I say to him shyly and meekly. “Do . . . do you attend this school?”

“No, I don't,” the stallion answers. “But I know plenty who do.”

Good. This means he won't be too familiar with those in the school. As such, he won't realize that I'm not actually a student of that school. Since that is the case, he is therefore safer to continue to communicate with him on that front.

“Speaking for myself, I can well sympathize with you feeling shy around strangers,” the stallion went on. “I've been blessed with some good friends in my life. Some really good friends. Kettle Corn especially comes to my mind, but mostly I just stick to myself and write haikus. That's my preferred way to socialize with other ponies. To write and share my art in that. Despite my interest in the matter, Kettle was the one who got her cutie mark in it. Go figure.

“Anyway, what's your assignment and how can I help you with it?”

I secretly thin my lips. I realize that I am taking a bit of a gamble here, but I need information.

“I've been told to do a case study on a certain pony. I . . . I know it's a long shot, but have you ever heard of a pony named Cozy Glow?”

Even by just staring at his legs, I see him stiffen with fright.

Really? He actually recognizes me? Oh, I mean . . . her? Also he's afraid. That's interesting, and mildly disturbing.

“Oh. I see,” the stallion says in a small voice. “Well, I suppose Cozy would make an interesting case study. There has never been a more misguided filly than her when it comes to friendship.”

“What? Filly?” I almost look up at him but force my gaze back down. Since I am supposed to be “shy”, that is still in character. “Don't you mean 'mare'? Surely she's all grown up by now, or at least a young teenager.”

“Nope.” I could almost hear him shake his head. “I mean filly.”

“She died?” I ask a bit fearfully which could easily be mistaken for nervously shy.

“Not exactly,” he answers. “Her statue is still in the Canterlot Gardens.”

“And where is that, exactly?” I press him, hoping I didn't sound to stupid with that question.

“Uh . . . in Canterlot,” he answers as if that should have been obvious. In fact, his confusion provokes him to ask, “Where are you from?”

“Very far away,” I answer honestly. “I just came here recently to attend classes at school.

“So,” I wipe a hoof in front of me, “let me get this straight. You actually know Cozy Glow, or rather you know about her because of some statue of her in Canterlot? Why? What's so special about that statue? What did she do to deserve being commemorated with it?”

“Commemorated?” He sounds taken aback. “No, no! Cozy Glow is the statue! She's been turned to stone along with Queen Chrysalis and Lord Tirek.”

I freeze. My blood chills. My heart stops. All of my surroundings slowly fade away in the background.

“Wow! If you didn't know that, you have a long way to go in your assignment,” the stallion remarks.

I say nothing. I barely even hear him.

“Uh . . . you okay, Miss?”

No, I'm not. Thanks for asking! How is your day?

“I . . . I'm sorry. I think I misheard you. I thought you said that a little filly got turned to stone.”

“She did!” the stallion confirms insistently. “She's right on up there in Canterlot Garden if you want to go see her. I did, once, during a school field trip. Bad idea! That statue gave me nightmares for weeks! Princess Luna had to console me practically every night despite her retirement. I was that much of an emotional wreck.”

I can no longer help it. I finally look up at his face, which also means he can see mine and my goofy glasses. Hopefully that's enough to disguise me.

This stallion had deeper blue eyes compared to the color of his hide, and very light blue in his mane with a small mix of yellow. His mane has a retro spikiness to it which I kind of like.

“Cozy Glow was turned to stone?! Are you sure? You're not just pulling my leg?” I double check because this information is crucial.

“Well, she did try to ruin the world . . . twice even,” he informs me.

I wipe a hoof back and forth between us. “Wait, wait. Back up a second. What do you mean by, ‘Almost ruining the world?’ Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

He looks down sadly as he says, “Cozy Glow used to attend the School of Friendship herself,” he announces.

I narrow my eyes at him a bit. School of Friendship? Really? That's it's name? Lame!

“In fact, she was there for the very first year,” he went on as he looked back into my eyes. “For a while there she seemed like a star pupil. She even served as the then Headmare Twilight's right hoof filly but, from what I hear, she only did it to get into a position of power.” He shook his head. “I don't know the details, but somehow she did something that almost destroyed all magic on Equestria! For that, Princess Celestia banished her to Tartarus.”

I widened my eyes in shock. “Excuse me? The Princess of Equestria banished a little filly to hell?”

“Hell?” He cocks his head. “No. I said, 'Tartarus'.”

“Is there a difference?”

In response, he just shrugs. If he did not know what “hell’ is, he had no basis of comparison.

Fair enough.

“Besides, I thought you told me she was turned to stone. So she was turned to stone and banished to Tartarus? Then why is she in the Canterlot Gardens now? What changed everyone's mind?”

“No!” He shook his head. “You've got it all wrong. Cozy was banished to Tartarus first. That's all.”

“That's all?!” I press him hard, which made him look very uncomfortable. Right now I don't care. “This doesn't exactly sound like a casual punishment to me, or is it?”

“No. I assure you, Tartarus is used only for Equestria's most dangerous offenders.”

I sigh, then say, “I guess attempting to destroy all of our lands magic is pretty serious, but let me ask you this; where were her parents in all of this? This is just a filly, right? Did they object to the Princesses decision to send their daughter to Tartarus?”

Also, note to self, he said Princess Celestia! That might explain why some creatures use her as an exclamation of astonishment. I guess she was the primary ruler of this land before Twilight took over.

Huh. And her human counterpart merely got leadership of a single school. I guess I know which one of these two drew the shorter straw. The longer straw Princess Celestia probably ate afterwards.

The stallion shrugs in response to my question, then said, “I have no idea what happened to Cozy's parents. I never heard of them.” He drops his gaze. “Maybe she cooked them up and ate them, or something.”

“What about a trial? Did that take place before banishing Cozy to Tartarus?”

“A what?” he asks with a confused wince.

My eyelids droop. “Um, never mind. Forget I asked that. Besides, we're dealing with a monarchy system here. I guess that was a stupid question.”

He tilts his head to his right side. “Are you okay, Miss?”

“No I'm not! I'm deeply troubled by what I'm hearing today!” I rant.

He seems to realize something, which causes him to ask, “Cozy Glow isn't really an assignment of yours, is she? She's your sister or something.”

“Yeah.” I lower my head. “I guess you can say that.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

He sounds sincere, so I said to him, “Thanks . . . for being honest.”

“Hey! That is an element of friendship! But you should know that, attending the school like you do . . . or is that a lie too?”

I say nothing. I feel too cold and drained to speak. It feels like somebody is rolling over in my grave.

He shuffles his hooves again, then said, “Look, I'm really sorry about your loss, Miss. You might know Cozy Glow better than any of the rest of us, if you're really her sister.”

I continue to remain in silence. My mind grows numb.

“Um . . . here. I want you to have something.”

I look up at what he offers. It's apparently a bag of some sort.

“What's this?” I ask him.

“Bits,” he answers.

Huh. I guess they use those too in Horse-Land, but the bag in question appears to be filled with some kind of coins, not paper bills.

“What's it for?”

“Take it, and use it to purchase a passage to Canterlot. Once there, you can see the statue of your sister in person.”

“Wow!” I lift my head up a bit further and widen my eyes at him. “That's really kind and generous of you.”

He smiles a bit. “Which is-”

I lift my hoof to interrupt him, then say, “-yet more elements of harmony, correct?”

He smiles brighter as he says, “Correct!” The smile fades from his face as he goes on to say, “I think you need this to find closure. Take it, and go see your sister. I even have enough bits in there for you to make a return trip here to Ponyville, if that's what you want.”

Ponyville? Really? Meaning Pony village?

Okay, note to self; check Google Maps for “Humanville” when I get back.

“Um . . . thank you. That's very nice of you,” I say to him then reach for the pouch with my right wing. I did get a grip on it but the bag still tips over a bit and spills a single coin on the ground. The sight of it also confirms to me that “bits” is indeed “coins” in Horse-Land.

“Urp! Let me get that for you.” This stallion somehow reaches down and picks up the coin with his hoof. I am stunned! Especially considering he also could have picked it up using the magic of his horn.

“Ah . . . just put it in here,” I request him numbly as I offer the bag back. He reaches forward, corrects its position, then dumps the coin into the bag.

“I, ah . . . want to ask you another question, and this might sound a little weird,” I warn him. “If you couldn't use your horn . . . how do you turn and open a doorknob?”

He gave me a very strange look as he said, “Ah . . . I turn and open the doorknob.”

“But how exactly do you turn it with these hooves of ours?”

“It's simple,” he says with a casual shrug. “I just touch it and it turns.”

“You touch it . . . and it just turns?” I double check.

“Yep!” he confirms as if that totally made sense.

I sigh and close my eyes halfway.

Okay, Cozy, we need to talk. I think it's pretty darn clear by now that Logic and this World have parted ways a long time ago. Maybe they never shared each other's company in the first place, so stop trying to compare the two. You're only going to give yourself a headache.

I tuck the coin pouch to my side using the same wing that held it.

“Thank you for everything, Mister . . .” I trail off.

“Skeedaddle,” he answers as he offered a hoof in front of him. For what, I'm not sure.

“Skeedaddle,” I repeat. “My name is Shimmering Spectacles,” I say without hesitation despite the fact I made it up on the spot. I also internally wince at it afterwards because it sounds so made up, but the stupid pony actually bought it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Shimmering.” He still holds up his hoof in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, I give him a hoof bump. Because I’m carefully examining his face, I can tell that is not the response he expected, but he still accepts it by lowering his hoof. “I really hope you find what you are looking for. I know how important family is.”

“Yeah.” I say with an empty voice and expression on my face as I look down a bit. “Thanks.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but looks like he either forgot what to say or did not know if it is appropriate. So instead he backs off and starts to walk away. A short distance away he slows his trot to an eventual stop, then looks back at me over his left shoulder.

“What happened to her?” he asks me curiously. “As her sister, you may know her better than anypony.”

Anypony? That's another note to self. I'll file that phrase under, “Pony idioms.”

“I wish I knew,” I answer him honestly. “I really do.”

I take a deep breath, then let it out.

“How exactly do I get to Canterlot?”

“You could just fly. It's right over there.” That sounds like it just occurred to him but, then again, he did not see my wings under Trixie's cloak until I reached for his sack with it.

I look where he indicates then widen my eyes a bit. There I behold an entire city that seems to be parked in the middle of a cliff. Even from a distance, I could see several waterfalls cascading down from there. It's so beautiful to behold.

“Other than that, I'd take the train at the station,” he went on. “It's just down the street that way.” He points the way. “Ask the ticket sellspony for a ticket to Canterlot, then board the next train there. It should take you a third of a day to get there.”

“Ah . . . thanks. I'll do that. My wings are a bit injured so I should stay off of them,” I explain to him. “I can use them to grasp things, but flying is too much for me right now.”

“I see,” he accepts with a sad look in his eyes. “Well, um . . . take care.”

He takes off. In a bit of a hurry, in fact.

I look back at Canterlot.

A strong part of me does not want to buy his story, but I have to know for sure. I have to see her with my own eyes . . . my other self.

I'm posting an extra chapter today because it is the story's first-month anniversary. That only happens once in a lifetime, and the story will likely be complete long before it has a chance to make its yearly anniversary so I'll give you guys an extra treat today and tomorrow with two more chapters a week ahead of schedule. Besides, I'm just as anxious to see your reaction as you are to read it.

This chapter will likely help to answer a question you may have been wondering since as early as chapter three. The title of this chapter may give you a hint about what you're in for.

I'll also post more chapters this Sunday and Monday on schedule. Those chapters will finish the "Horse-Land" mini-saga. The last chapter of this saga also happens to be the longest one I have in my entire book so far, so stay tuned.