The floorboards give a tad underneath your weight as you make your way back to the kitchen, where Twilight and Spike are already partaking in their nighttime tea. Letter in hand, you pull out the chair next to Spike and gingerly take your seat, a steaming cup waiting to grace your lips on the table in front of you.

“Hey, Spike, do you mind sending this out when you get a chance?”

He nods mid-swig, not even bothering to open his eyes as a spot of tea streaks down his cheek from the sudden motion. Not an insignificant amount of time later, he finally sets his mug down with a resoundingly empty clink. The vibration of the motion reaches your knee pressed up against the kitchen island’s base.

He gestures for you to hand him the letter with a quick beckoning motion of his claw, which you oblige. Holding the scroll in front of him, he takes a deep breath, straightening his back out in the process. In one swift movement, he forces all of the air out of his lungs. Just past his lips, the intangible stream is painted into a brilliant verdant flame, engulfing your letter in a billowing cloud of blinding color.

Your letter takes on a dark green shine before crumbling bit by bit into dark ash, floating away into nothing. The flames dissipate along with it, returning the room to its warm, orange tone.

He clears his throat a few times, blinking slowly as he props his head on his claws, placing his elbows on the counter.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how does that even work?”

“Do you want the long answer, or the short one?” he replies.

Your brain isn’t exactly ready for a Twilight-level explanation right now, unfortunately.

“Short.”

He grunts in response, his tea seemingly already taking hold over him.

“It’s a self-sustaining spell. Whenever my fire breath comes into contact with any paper or parchment, it gets de-materialized and teleported to wherever she is at the moment.”

“So, essentially, you’re the world’s most efficient delivery service.”

“Basically.”

That’s… actually really cool.

“Still looking for a short answer here - how complicated is that spell?”

“Very,” Twilight chimes in from across the table. “If I remember correctly, it took Celestia half a year to put it together.”

“I’m guessing it’s because both of your exact positions are always changing, and it needs to be able to account for it accurately?”

“That, and it has to be able to hold up under considerable distances.”

Well, holy shit. It’s the magical equivalent of texting someone.

“It still blows my mind that you guys can just shoot laser beams out of your horns willy-nilly, but things like that are what takes time.”

“In laymare’s terms, it’s a matter of strength versus finesse,” Twilight says, her tone developing into the one she uses in her famous lectures. “Even then, lasers aren’t exactly an easy feat for the average unicorn. The enormous mana drain alone could pose serious health risks if not mitigated properly, and that’s not even touching on whether or not their reservoirs are deep enough to support a sustained beam in the first place!”

You nod along with her educational ramble, grateful that she feels it necessary to go back-and-forth with you.

“I don’t think I’m present enough to understand magic right now.”

“Not with that attitude, you aren’t,” she jokes.

Even though her wealth of knowledge currently has nowhere to go in your tired brain, you find a smile gracing your features; she’s always fun to listen to.

In the comfortable silence of a settling kitchen, you take hold of the handle of your steaming mug and gently bring the rim to your lips. Even smelling the chamomile is enough to make you drowsy; closing your eyes, you lazily tilt the cup toward you, letting the hot tea run across your tongue for the second day in a row. With your luck, you’ll develop a dependency on this stuff while you’re living here. Hands steadied by the new warmth spreading outward from your stomach, you set the cup back down and lean against the counter. You’re tempted to lay your head down, but you know that you’ll fall asleep shortly after if you aren’t careful, so you abstain for now.

Still, you find that your eyelids are getting quite heavy, dragging themselves downward in microscopic increments against your will even as you sit straight. It wouldn’t be awful if you fell asleep right here, but you’d rather not drool all over Twilight’s countertop, or wake up with a wicked backache from being hunched over.

“Oh, by the way,” Twilight chimes back in, picking her gaze up from her half-full cup and resting it on you. “What were you going to say earlier, while everypony was playing Arc?”

You’re brought back to the realm of the living, locking eyes with her as your full awareness returns.

“Hm?”

“You know, when Pinkie interrupted you with her party cannon.”

Huh…?

Oh!

“You mean when we were talking about having me stay here?”

She nods before taking another frugal sip of tea, still gently smiling. You align your forearms to be parallel on the counter, your right hand grasping your left elbow through the layers of warm clothing. This isn’t exactly the easiest thing to jump into after casual conversation, but you’ll try for her sake.

“I just don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.”

Instead of responding immediately like earlier, she focuses intently at the table for a fleeting few seconds, seemingly gathering her thoughts before proceeding.

“Why do you feel like that’s what you’d be doing, Anon?”

You rub your fingers back and forth, friction heating the skin just above your elbows.

“Well, I mean… It’s not like I got fired, right? I quit, abandoned my apartment, and ran home all of my own volition.”

You scoff at your lack of forethought.

“I mean, I didn’t even let you know I was coming home. I just showed up, and honestly, I didn’t really leave you much of a choice whether to take me in or not.”

Twilight sips deeply from her cup, knocking back what must be almost the entire rest of her tea. As she lowers the mug back down to the table, you notice that a slight frown has replaced her otherwise omnipresent cheeriness.

“It’s true that it was a bit sudden, but I don’t see that as a bad thing, Anon.”

“How? I mean, what if you had plans and my homecoming totally screwed them up?”

A chuckle escapes her throat as she leans against the table with her hooves.

“I did have plans,” she says, her airy tone a much needed push against the otherwise seriousness of the conversation. “And you became a part of them.”

Even you can’t help but smirk just a bit; you’ve been here only a day, and already they’re rubbing off on you.

“Okay, maybe not the best example, but you get what I mean, don’t you?”

“In general, but your reasoning doesn’t apply in this specific situation.”

She takes one last dainty sip before disembarking from her chair and heading over to the sink to rinse her cup out.

“I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it: you aren’t taking advantage of us by staying here. I promise, you’ll feel differently once you’ve been away from your old job for a while.”

She sets her cup down and turns to you, a determined look on her face.

Her reasoning is sound; already, you feel different. A bit better, you’d venture to say.

“Do you have an ETA on that?” you ask, a bit more timidly than you’d like.

“Coming from somepony who’s gone through a variation of the same thing," she explains, "I’d give it until you find your next job.”

“Are we talking Canterlot time or Ponyville time here?”

“Ponyville time, I think? Whichever one’s shorter.”

“Ponyville it is, then. I swear, you have to sign a stack of paperwork to bring a bagel into the office in the business district.”

That earns a chuckle out of both of you, each one turning into a yawn seconds later. As you cover your mouth with the top of your hand and squint, you try to get a glimpse at Spike’s reaction. Instead of any reaction at all, you find the poor guy face down on the countertop, his mug sitting a few inches from his upturned hand. His body heaves with his inward breaths, only to press itself against the counter again with every exhale.

Not too long from now, you’ll be in the same boat. Already, gravity seems to be a much easier trap for your limbs to succumb to. Looking back at Twilight, you see the same ghost of sleep beginning to possess her as well. With a few shakes of her head, she resists, but you know that another wave will hit her in short order.

“Gettin’ tired?”

A simple nod is her only reply, her half-lidded stare threatening to turn into closed eyes any second. Sheesh, the chamomile’s hitting a lot faster than usual tonight.

Even so, you don’t want to go to bed without a proper capstone for your conversation.

“Hey, Twi?”

“Mm?” she vocalizes, opening her eyes as wide as she can under the influence of exhaustion.

“Thank you. For all of this, I mean. Letting me stay here, having me come along to your get-together… I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

She bats a hoof at you, smiling all the while.

“I’m just happy you’re home, Anon.”

You hum your approval, eyelids growing heavier by the second as you rise from your seat.

“I’m gonna try to get some sleep,” you mumble, exhaustion’s warm grip coiling around your chest. “I have no idea when the first train to Canterlot leaves tomorrow, so I’ll head out early to check the schedules.”

“We’ll come with you to see you off,” Twilight offers. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

“Hopefully before dinner, with belongings in hand.”

“In that case…”

She meanders over and stops just shy of you, holding out a hoof in your direction. As you kneel down to meet her, she rears up on her hind legs, rising to meet your height halfway through your downward motion.

All at once, you’re wrapped in each others’ warm embraces. The nightly chill is sent cowering into nothing for a few fleeting moments as she rests her cheek on the base of your neck.

“Goodnight, Anon.”

“See you in the morning, Twi.”

Before long, you both pull away, influenced in no small part by your growing sense of sleepy delirium. You turn and head for your bedroom, her magic gently ringing through the room as she snuffs out the light and picks Spike up from his seat.

When you make it to your room and shut the door behind you, you barely have time to crawl into bed before the sandman whisks you away.

---

“Lunch?”

Your hand rummages around feverishly inside your bag before finding the container, cold to the touch from the refrigerated salad inside.

“Check.”

“Water bottle?”

A short shift leftward, and the condensation dampens the top of your fingers.

“Check.”

“Snack bars, just in case?”

There they are, right under the emergency change of clothes; your ring finger brushes against three rectangular shapes, foil wrapping crinkling under your minute touch.

“Triple check. Is that everything, or are we missing something?”

Twilight takes hold of the bag in her magic and places it between you and herself, leaning back against the cold metal of the white bench. She’s silent as she gives the contents one last passthrough, giving the busy station an opportunity to fill the air with the goings on of its many soon-to-be passengers.

Even this early in the morning, the platform is relatively lively, mostly with out-of-towners. Funnily enough, if you know what to look for, it’s relatively easy to figure out who’s from where. The ones who are the most bundled up are usually from Las Pegasus or Appleloosa, or some other southern town that never really gets much cold. Poor things look downright pitiful, shivering in the relatively fair winds.

Manehattanites and ponies from Baltimare are similarly dressed, but they’re decidedly more accustomed to the climate than their southern counterparts. The wind may be blowing their hair and this way and that, but they look comfortable, if not a tad chilly.

Ponies from Canterlot are almost completely accustomed to the cold, even with the unusually low temperatures. More often than not, they’re carrying on conversation like it’s a crisp seventy degrees outside. You hadn’t lived there quite long enough to develop the same immunity, but it did help keep you from being a sniveling mess, so the four years weren’t completely wasted.

“I don’t think we missed anything back home,” Twilight chimes in, zipping your bag back up and handing it to you. “Even if we did, you’re coming back later, so it’s not a big deal.”

You sling the strap around your arm, riding it all the way up to your shoulder. While you sit, it rests on the bench, freeing you of the burden of its weight for now. It used to be one of Twilight’s saddlebags, but it became your messenger bag after she re-purposed it for you a few weeks after your arrival to Equestria.

“Hey, is your old office anywhere near that one really good pizza place?” Spike asks, looking up to you from your right.

“Cloud Nine?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

You chuckle at your matching enthusiasm for the eatery.

“It’s a couple blocks away, nothing too bad. Why, you want me to bring back a slice or two?”

“Please?” He clasps his hands together, eyes pleading.

That gets a curt laugh out of you as you reach out to gently pat him on his back.

“I’ll do you one better and get us a pie. Probably be cold by the time I get back, though.”

“You do know who you’re talking to, right, dude?”

“…I don’t know why I keep forgetting you’ve got fire breath.”

“And an oven,” Twilight sternly interjects, unenthused by the prospect of an open flame in her almost entirely oaken house. “Which I would prefer you use, for the sake of everypony’s safety.”

“Aw, come on!” you bargain with a smile. “I bet the green flames give it a good kick.”

“As long as you both do it outside,” she says with a sigh, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Just don’t set anything on fire, please.”

“We’ll be on our best behavior, ma’am,” Spike says, saluting Twilight’s authority.

As you and Spike have a good-natured chuckle, you notice a faint chugging moving into earshot.

Looking in the direction it’s coming from, you see that familiar pinkish-purple engine coming into view over the horizon, tugging along its many cabin cars. Steam billows high into the air as it trudges along, and before long, the screech of the brakes greets your ears as it begins its mile-long stopping process.

Only a matter of time before it eventually comes to rest in the station.

The three of you stand from your seats on the bench, and the weight from your bag’s convenience supplies finally starts tugging at your shoulder. You fish your ticket out of your pocket, thumbing it around as you make certain which car you’d be boarding.

Out of curiosity, you’d checked to see if the private cabin had already been booked, but luck hadn’t been on your side this morning; coincidentally, it was booked all the way until Canterlot. You did manage to snag some pretty good seating, though - right next to the private cabins, actually.

Before long, the train finally lurches into the station, signaling its arrival with a few blows of the steam whistle. Unceremoniously, you all head to the second to last cabin, and you hop in line as Twilight and Spike stay at your side.

“Stay safe, okay, Anon?” Twilight all but demands, looking up at you with a smile.

There’s a hint of something else behind her words, but you’re too focused on boarding to take much note of it. Maybe bittersweetness?

“I will, Twi, don’t worry. Don’t let any monsters attack the town while I’m gone, ya hear?”

She giggles, standing up on her hind legs to catch you in a brief hug.

“I won’t. See you later, Anon.”

As you both return to standing, the line of ponies moves forward, and you’re compelled to flow with the crowd. Twilight and Spike stay behind, idling by a support beam as they watch you go.

When you reach the boarding door, you show your ticket to the concierge, who lets you in with a curt nod and an earnest grin. As your shoes cross from concrete to carpet, the first thing you notice is how comparatively empty your cabin is with the rest of the train. You have to bend down a bit to not hit your head on the ceiling, and if you don’t angle your body a certain way, you’re liable to shoulder check either the various seats or an unfortunate passenger.

Your seat waits for you in the back, near the door to the privacy cabin. As you crouch down and shimmy in, you get a brief glimpse of the people in the cabin next door.

A flash of gold and silver, of regality and elegance, greets your eyes for a few fleeting moments. Armor; upright armor, that is, so it rules out ponies. Casting your eyes a bit further upward reveals beaks, fur, and piercing eyes directed right at you, mostly out of bewilderment. You can only assume that they’re Gryphon royal guards, judging by the flamboyant decorations on their gear. You’re about to question why they’re on the train when the answer makes itself strikingly apparent.

From behind one of the rearmost chairs in the privacy cabin, a head juts out, noticeably younger than those of the numerous guards surrounding it. A young gryphon, no older than twelve years, eyes you up on down, an eyebrow raised in curiosity as she leverages herself against the chair ahead of her for a better look.

Not one to stare, you give a quick smile and a nod before going about your business, shimmying the rest of the way into your seat without waiting for a reply. You suppose that they’re on the agenda for Celestia today, since the train’s headed for the capitol.

The royalty behind you is pushed to the back of your mind as you look out of the window, watching Twilight and Spike have a conversation as the train’s doors close. Spike’s the first to notice you in the window, getting Twilight’s attention and pointing in your direction, waving at you all the while.

You wave back as Twilight joins in, her grin spreading ear-to-ear.

As the train lurches forward with a brief blowing of its whistle, you see Spike suddenly clutch his stomach and cover his mouth with his claw. Not a moment later, green fire erupts from his maw and manifests into a letter, no doubt sealed with Celestia’s cutie mark.

Fuck. Well, guess you’re not reading that until later.

Twilight checks on him, still waving to you as they slide out of sight, replaced by houses that pass idly by as you pick up speed. You sigh inwardly, already missing them.

Unzipping your bag from beneath you, you dig through its contents until you find the book that Twilight gave you to pass the time on the train rides.

‘Panacea: Tales from the Veil.’

Huh. Twilight’s never mentioned this one before; must be a new addition to the library catalog. Maybe you’ll finally be able to talk her to death about a book she’s never read before!

Excited by the prospect of such uncharted territory, you flip to the first page, leaning back in your chair as you settle in for the ride.

---

Okay, what?

How would Signus even be able to do that? As far as you know, the book never even hinted at the prospect of him being a rift weaver. Although, the rest of what you’ve read is decidedly well written, so you suppose you can forgive a plot hole or two. Agh, but it’s so glaring, though…

You put the book down, dog-earing the eighty-first page to save it for later.

Don’t tell Twilight.

A glance outside doesn’t reveal much, given the onset of the rain halfway through the trip, but you can see the mountain in the distance, so it’s safe to assume you’re at least a little over halfway through. Through the window, the countryside looks wavy and mottled, thanks to the rainwater rushing over the glass. You lean your head against the cold window, shutting your eyes for a brief second.

A nap wouldn’t hurt. You’d been awake since dawn, and at this rate, you still had-

Without warning, the train car rattles a bit. Not the standard bout of turbulence that you’ve come to expect, either; this was a bit too rough.

Your eyes fling open, your head searching the cabin for any clues as to what might’ve happened. The few ponies in the cabin with you are doing the same, some more alarmed than others.

For a few moments, other than the rain and the ambient chugging of the train, everything seems quiet. Calm, even.

But as you go to rest your head again, the cabin rattles once more, much stronger this time. The seat below you is locked in your death grip as you look to the other passengers, who trade looks of deep concern with you. The steady trudge of the train has noticeably slowed; the terrain outside passes by leisurely at best.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” the conductor announces over the loudspeaker.

“It looks like we’re having a bit of trouble with some debris on the tracks. Please remain seated, we’re going to come to a slow stop and attempt some-”

A deafening roar blocks out the rest of his statement, and you feel the cabin being lifted straight off of the railway by some unknown force.

A frantic look out of the window reveals four figures, black as ink against the warped landscape. Three of them stand as quadrupeds, one as a biped. The biped has its arms outstretched toward the sky, and the quadrupeds are seated, doing much the same with their front legs.

Another terrifying lurch upward rips your eyes from the strange congregation. Back in your immediate surroundings, the entire cabin is coated in a deep crimson light. To your horror, your body is enshrouded by the light as well, warbling as you wave your hands in front of yourself. The deafening noise builds without end as the light gets brighter, brighter still until-

The cacophony reaches its apex, and the world goes dark as the worst bout of turbulence yet bounces your head violently against the window.

Next Chapter: 8 - Delay Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 21 Minutes