The sun was rising when she woke, cold and confused. The rapidly-paling colors of dawn were splashed across the snow, separated by the black shadows of trees.

I'm so cold.

And no wonder. She was completely naked, curled in the snow, a pile of damp rags beneath her. Moving slowly, too frozen to even shiver, she touched her feet, her shoulders, her stomach. Pure white skin, tinted blue. A spidery network of veins beneath the surface. And, of course, cold as ice. But not numb. Not quite yet.

She stood. The snow bit at her bare feet. Glancing at the rags, in all their faded crimson glory, she debated whether or not to take them with her. They might help to warm her, despite their hideous appearance. But they were wet; they could kill her. In the end, she decided to take them, because they were the only things that she could be definitely sure were hers.

With head bowed, torso and arms wrapped in rough cloth, she walked through the silent forest. Nothing spoke. Time passed only in the sky, where the sun rose steadily higher. Fear stalked her, but could not latch onto her. She was far too cold.

She herself moved slowly, deliberately, hesitating after each step, as if she were thinking about it. But her mind was empty, clear and deep like a spring once filled with runoff. She felt nothing, thought nothing, until a branch broke above her and sent a cascade of icy water onto her head.

"Aah!" She stumbled back, shaking her head, finally shivering. Her hair and the rags around her shoulders were soaked. With freezing droplets running down her spine, she glared at the branch that had wronged her, futile anger rising up in her as her first emotion since waking. It made no sense, but she hated that branch. It had hurt her. She wanted to punish it.

With no warning whatsoever, a pale blue glow ignited just above her eyes, the branch rose into the air, and snapped in half with a sound that made her jump back and lose her balance. Just as quickly as it had come, the glow vanished.

Breathing hard (a painful thing in the cold air), she stared at the branch. At its thickest, it was wider than one of her legs. It would have taken tremendous force to break it.

She had not touched it. What had happened?

Before she could ponder this further, a voice rang angrily through the trees, startling her back to her feet. "There is no hunting in these woods!"

Should I run? I...I don't think I'm very fast. Should I hide? No, it's far too cold.

She had no time to decided. A small, wizened creature, clad in a parka and faded calico skirt, had just tramped into view. With a device of wood and metal cradled in her gloved hands, the old woman sized her up from fifty feet away. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She sensed no danger, but she didn't know if she had done something wrong by breaking the branch. If she had indeed broken it.

After what seemed like an eternity, the woman lowered the front part of her device and sighed.

"Great, another one. At least you had the sense to bring something with you. What did that used to be, a dress?"

She stayed silent, unsure of what the old one meant. Drawing the rags closer around her, she tried to soak up the excess water on her skin.

"Well, come on. We'd better get you warmed up." The woman turned away.

She took a few steps forward, following her, then stopped.

"What are you waiting for?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but the old woman continued before she could.

"You've only got two legs now and you've gotta learn how to use them sooner or later. And trust me when I say sooner is better for everyone than later."

Hurrying to catch up, she wished she had boots, like the old woman was wearing. They were fiercely ugly, but her feet were becoming numb. She wished for warmth with the very core of her being. Even at the cost of wearing something as unappetizing as those.

Suddenly, a small dwelling appeared out of the trees. A house made out of fallen, or perhaps cut, logs, with a smoking stone chimney. A sense of relief came over her. She had reached a sanctuary, and a rustically quaint one at that. She would survive.

"Alright, you head in and sit yourself down in front of the fire," the woman said briskly. "I've just gotta get this gun put up and then I'll be in. Okay?"

"Okay..." she said. Her voice was refined and carried a touch of an accent, which surprised her.

The door opened at her touch; she didn't even have to turn the knob. A pillow of warm air rushed out to meet her, fluttering several strands of her wet hair. Going weak in the knees, she allowed the wet rags to tumble to the ground and almost fell inside.

The old woman found her curled on the rug in front of the fire, her eyes closed and her knees drawn up to her chest. She had a rather strange look to her, just like all of them, travelers from another world. Almost translucent, almost unreal. Hair in shades of purple. A triple gemstone marking on her hip.

"You've got a horn," the woman observed. "That means you're one of the more powerful ones."

Her eyes fluttered open, but she only stared into the flames.

"I'm Sadie. What's your name?"

"I don't remember." Feeling troubled, she sat up. Sadie, who had removed her parka to reveal a loose woven shirt that wasn't too offensive, lowered herself into a chair.

"It'll come back eventually," she said confidently. "The crossing always screws things up."

The other just nodded. With a sigh, Sadie rose and grabbed a heavy blanket, draping it around her.

"You stay here, kitten. I'll go get you some clothes."

She stood as the old woman shuffled off to some unseen room. Keeping the blanket wrapped around her slender frame, she walked slowly to the window. A sheath of icicles hung down there, catching the sunlight and distorting the world beyond. Looking for all the world like crystals. A soft blue glow pulsed above her eyes.

"Your talent has something to do with beauty, doesn't it?"

Sadie set down a small bundle of horribly outdated clothes and headed into another room. She reluctantly tore herself away from the window and followed her.

"Whatever do you mean, darling?"

The endearment slipped out almost involuntarily, but it went unnoticed.

"Well, your mark is jewels and you seemed to like the way that that ice caught the light." Rummaging in a drawer full of pots, Sadie looked up and scowled. "No, get out, I don't need your help. The last unicorn I had in here broke my best plate."

She must have looked confused, because Sadie continued, "Don't play dumb, I see your horn glowing."

"This?" She reached up, towards the light. Her fingers met something slim and cool and whorled. A horn.

"Yep."

"I can...use this to move things without touching them, can't I?"

"What'd you think it was for?" Sadie stood and filled a large pot with water at the sink.

"I'm afraid I didn't even know it was there."

She glanced over her shoulder. "You really got worked over, didn't you? Anyway, it doesn't matter. Go get dressed. I'm making dandelion soup."

The other stiffened slightly. The glow of her horn pulsed slightly as a memory fluttered through her mind, just out of reach.

"I remember that," she said softly.

"Yes, everyone does. It must be popular over on your side."

"Goodness yes, it--it is..." There was something else, a duty, a mission. A secret meeting over a bowl of dandelion soup. She had to do something. She had been sent here for a reason. The reason was...it was...

"What did I just tell you? Get out of the kitchen."

She went back to where Sadie had set the clothes. A sweater with a nice pattern, though it was done in dull colors. A fleece vest that she quite admired. A pair of loose pants. Boots. A large hat--ugly, but ideal for hiding a horn. As she awkwardly dressed, grateful for the fact that the heat in the cabin had dried her hair, her eyes fell upon a violet shawl hanging near the door. Memory hit her like a hoof to the face.

"I have to find her!" she yelled, standing bolt upright. Her horn flashed, and in the kitchen, a pot full of water and dandelion greens flew out of Sadie's hands and hit the far wall. The old woman screamed.

"Look what you did--" Storming into the room that she had directed the other into, Sadie was surprised to see the door open and a purple-haired figure bolting towards the trees. "What the--where in the name of God do you think you're going?"

Almost as an afterthought, she added, "I'm not mad about the pot. You guys are a lot more powerful here.

"I have to find her!" the girl yelled, turning around. Sadie pulled on her parka and headed out.

"Find who?"

For a moment, her face was totally blank. Then something flashed in the depths of her blue eyes and she replied, "Why, Twilight Sparkle, of course."

The old woman shook her head. "I'll tell you what I told the others: you're not gonna find her."

"The...the others?"

"A lot of you guys come looking for Sparkle. I can understand that, she was the first one to cross over. But it's useless."

"Why?"

"Come inside, I'll show you." Sadie turned and went inside. After a moment's hesitation, the other followed. "And couldn't you at least have put your boots on before you went charging off?"

The old woman went straight to a stack of newspapers in the corner once the door had been closed. She rifled through them for several minutes, muttering to herself, while the girl sat on the ground. Finally, Sadie came over with several papers and tossed them into her lap.

First Contact, a headline read. Below a picture of an Asian girl with pink and purple streaks in her indigo hair and a violet horn, it continued: Twilight Sparkle, visitor from a dimension of powerful equine creatures, talks with world leaders.

The next newspaper had a picture of a blond girl with blue-gray wings, a green-haired one with a yellow horn, and brown-haired, brown-winged man. They were standing in a meadow, surrounded by people unadorned with wings or horns. The headline proclaimed, New Arrivals: Sparkle Admits that More Are on the Way.

The one after that bore an image of a ruined city. Pegasus Storm Razes Detroit; Thousands Dead: Three Aliens in Custody, Sparkle Pleads for Release.

She flipped rapidly through the papers. A body covered by a white sheet, with one wing sticking out. Pegasus killed in hate crime. The Asian girl standing at a podium, looking furious. Sparkle Demands Justice. A blond woman with an orange horn standing in the ruins of a building. Unicorns Attack Capitol.

An older man with steel gray hair and no wings or horn to speak of yelling into a microphone. President Announces that All Aliens Must Relinquish Freedom for Own Safety.

There was no picture with the next headline. Sparkle Refuses to Yield.

Government Delivers Ultimatum: Leave Earth or be Destroyed.

War Declared on Aliens.

She pulled her eyes away from the very last picture, a frightening scene of the Asian girl, her horn, hands and eyes glowing as she levitated huge war machines with several other unicorns. Sadie was watching her closely.

"You guys stopped coming for awhile. I thought you knew."

She shook her head, unable to speak. She didn't remember.

"It was fear, plain and simple. We just couldn't accept something like you. Pegasi could control the weather, unicorns had psychic abilities, and the rest looked exactly like us with bad dye jobs. So we did the only thing we really know how to do: we fought."

"What happened to her? Twilight?" Her voice was a dry whisper.

"No one knows. She just disappeared, and the resistance with her. Maybe they killed her, maybe they locked her up somewhere. Either way, she's gone." The old woman stood up. "I'll feed you and let you stay here for a night or two, but then you have to go. They've already arrested me twice for helping your kind."

She walked into the kitchen and began to cook. When she was done, she returned to the living room and found the door open once more. The girl was already gone, walking barefoot through the fading light with her horn a beacon in front of her.

Her hair was perfectly coiffed.