“Oh! Hey, look who's here.” First Response gave him a wide grin. “Glad to see you decided to take me up on my offer,” she said, before turning towards the several ponies standing behind her. Somehow, he managed to suppress his shock at seeing most of them bearing wings. Pegasi? Why not, we've got unicorns. Let's invite the whole mythological crowd. “Everypony, this is Story Seeker,” First announced. “I met him on the train into Canterlot, and he just seemed too interesting not to pester.” She grinned impishly. “Story, these are some of my friends from Ponyville and the neighborhood. Here's Derpy Hooves with her daughters Sparkler and Dinky, Thunderlane and his brother Rumble, my cousin Noteworthy and his fiancée Amethyst Star.”

He didn't even know where to begin processing all this. From Derpy's cockeyed gaze, to her name, to the fact that neither of her daughters were pegasi, to the strangely sullen look Sparkler had, to Noteworthy's slight frown, to Amethyst Star's bright-yellow saddle/dress getup. It only took a couple of seconds for his brain to throw up its metaphorical hands and say “work it out later; react now”. “Oh, uh... nice to meet you all,” he said, managing a small grin.

The others made various responses in turn, from Derpy's wide-grinning “hey there!” to a polite “nice to meet ya” from Thunderlane. Noteworthy took Amethyst aside for a brief moment to whisper into her ear; with a look of shock and a rapid shake of her head, she whispered something back, and the stallion's expression immediately switched to one of shame before glancing back up at Story with a sheepish smile.

Either First Response didn't catch any of it, or she'd chosen to let it pass without comment. “So!” she declared with a clack of her hoof against the street. “Story, you haven't had lunch yet, have you?”

“Err, no. Actually, I'm getting a bit hungry.” It was true enough. Breakfast had been filling, but spending the rest of the morning literally taking mental pictures of books and reading any current periodicals he could get his hooves on for two hours after that had left him more than a little peckish.

“Well, we were just starting to talk about where to eat. What sort of food do you like?”

In this body? Not the foggiest idea. “I'm... good with just about anything,” he answered.

“Way to help us narrow things down, Story,” Amethyst giggled. “Anypony else have any ideas?”

“There's that great muffin shop back on Dressage Avenue,” Derpy volunteered.

“You and your muffins, Derpy.”

“You and your eclairs, Amethyst!”

“Settle down, mares.” First gave Story a pleading glance. “You see what I have to put up with from those two? And you're probably wondering what you've gotten into right now.”

He managed a chuckle and a grin. “Yeah, that's about right.” He glanced around for some sort of inspiration, and noticed the three foals- yeah, that's what young ponies are called- standing a bit apart from the group, looking various shades of bored and impatient. “Well, if we adults are deadlocked, we could ask the little ones what they're interested in,” he commented.

“Oh hey, now there's an idea.” First turned towards the kids, who looked surprised at the attention. “What are you little fetlock-biters interested in for lunch?” she asked in a teasing voice.

As one, they all spoke up. “Pizza!”

“Hey, that's not a bad call!” Noteworthy said. “There's this great place just off Dapple Street, Chez Veneto. Best Lipizzano food in the city!”

Story's mind ground to a halt. Chez Veneto? As in, the very same place I woke up in back in Frozen Canterlot? Oh, man... this is gonna feel weird....

“...sound okay to you, Story?” He blinked, realizing First Response was talking to him. “Uh... yeah,” he managed to say after a moment. “I'm always up for some pizza.”

“It's settled then!” First clopped a hoof on the ground. “Chez Veneto for lunch it is! Off we go, everypony!”

It was a short walk across town to Dapple Street, and then the restaurant came into view. Story had to force himself to maintain a casual demeanor as they approached the building, decked out in shiny red tiles, large windows and a bright yellow roof; above the entrance was a large sign with the name of the place next to a colorful rendition of a mustachioed pony tossing pizza dough into the air. I don't remember that sign, he thought distractedly. It must not have survived.

The slightly cool air outside gave way to warm, heavily-scented air as the group filed in, with Noteworthy holding the door open for the others. Despite how bizarre it was to see the place alive and vibrant, the familiar smell of Italian- I guess they call it Lipizzano here, he amended himself- food quickly washed away at least some of his discomfort. Still, it felt strange that he didn't even need to look over the menu board- he already knew most of what the place offered from reading its dusty menus in its freezing-cold, abandoned supply closet.

The group made their way to the tables and picked the biggest one in the house, which still needed two extra chairs- and a booster seat for Dinky- to hold all of them. After a minute, a waitress came by, and they asked for drinks while they decided on what to order. “You guys really ought to try the manicotti,” Noteworthy said. “Best I've ever had, and I've been as far south as Appleloosa and further north than Neighagra Falls.”

When the waitress returned, everyone had made their choice. The foals went for pizza with various toppings; First Response agreed to give the manicotti a try, but Story found something else that looked more appealing. “I'll have the gnocchi di ricotta,” he told the waitress.

“Oooh, you'll love that,” she said with a grin. “Okay! The slices we'll have out for the little ones in a couple minutes; the rest will be about ten.” She gathered up the menus and headed back towards the kitchen. “So, Story,” First said as she leaned back in her chair. “Tell us about yourself!”

He did so, giving them a brief overview of this new self he inhabited, thankfully able to answer the few questions the others asked. The others briefly told him about themselves as well- Derpy handled mail delivery, Thunderlane managed the weather- I still can't believe they move the weather around themselves here, Story thought, though after the whole “sun and moon” thing I suppose my “suspension of disbelief” bar should be in low orbit- and Noteworthy played in a small band that performed in a club that Amethyst managed.

The conversation was in full swing when the rest of the food arrived, piping hot. The foals had already finished their slices and were clamoring to go play in the little collection of child-sized gymnastic equipment in the back of the restaurant- I never saw that there; the rubble must have buried it- so the adults let them go have their fun, assigning a less-grumpy-looking Sparkler to keep an eye on them, while waiting for the food to cool.

Once the food had given up some of its heat, Story hesitantly took a bite of his gnocchi di ricotta... and then gulped down the rest of the forkful like he hadn't eaten in a week. Apparently breakfast hadn't been a fluke- this city had the best food he'd tasted in his life. “Whoa!” First teased him after a few moments of watching him dig in. “You okay there, Story? Or are we gonna have to dive in and rescue you from that plate?”

He had to chuckle at himself as he set the fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Sorry. Seriously, I've never had food this good.”

“Yeah, Sandy was always complaining about the food they had in Hobitken. Canterlot really gets the good stuff.”

The conversation went on as they ate. Story was taken aback by just how social the other ponies were; he supposed it made sense for a species apparently descended from herd animals, but it took him a little while to get himself “up to speed” with just how open they were with each other- maybe he'd never been a social butterfly, but he was certainly no slouch... but these ponies were on an entirely different level. And what was more, he found himself actually wanting to participate even more, held back only by his lack of real knowledge regarding much of what was being discussed.

First Response seemed to pick up on this. “You're a bit quiet, Story,” she commented. “You okay over there?”

“Yeah, just... kind of enjoying listening to all of you talk.” He waved a hoof. “Don't mind me.”

“Come on, it's not like we're that interesting,” Thunderlane snickered. “There's got to be something exciting about what you do!”

“I spend my time going through places covered in dust, that haven't seen a living soul in ages. Their stories are interesting, sure, but it's nice getting to hear more recent tales as well.” Plus that excuse keeps me from having to try to make up some plausible-sounding story, considering I still don't know actually much about this world's history.

“Heh, okay, that's fair enough.” First put down her fork and knife. “But... why? Doesn't stumbling around in some abandoned place get boring?”

“No, no, it really doesn't. It... it's almost like visiting another time, another place, that's familiar but yet almost alien, you know?” He was sitting up without even realizing it, gesturing with his forehooves. “Even if we're only talking about a few decades, the differences in everything you can find... the effects of others who are long gone, traces of their daily routines, old work clothes, tools, even scraps of what they had for lunch on their last day on the job. It's like... a peek into the past, I guess is the best I could call it.”

He expected the others to be indifferent to his description, or at best mildly interested. What he hadn't expected was the utter fascination all of them were showing. “You know, I've never heard it put that way,” First admitted, rubbing the side of her neck with a hoof. “It does sound pretty interesting when you think about it like that.”

“Yeah,” Derpy agreed. “That reminds me of an idea my boss had once... displaying old mail that was undeliverable and had just been stored away- not anything personal; just flyers, advertisements, stuff like that. Just a way to show how what goes through the mail has changed over the years. I didn't really go for it when he thought it up, but now....”

Story shrugged. “Hey, I'd go to see that,” he offered.

“You know what? I would too. It might be cool.” Thunderlane grinned.

“Do you guys really think so? I should tell my boss that when we get home!” Derpy smiled broadly. “Thanks, Story.”

He blinked. “Thanks for what?”

“For making the past seem so interesting! You oughta be a teacher or something, or maybe a professor, getting fillies and colts more interested in history.”

“Eh....” He chuckled, glancing away. “I don't think I'm cut out for that sort of thing.”

“Nah, really, maybe she's right.” Noteworthy raised his glass. “You've got a knack- you should at least give it some thought.”

“Well... okay. I'll give it a little consideration.” He managed a smile as he turned his attention back to the food. Truth be told, I think about that sometimes, he mused. Not teaching, really, but sharing history with others so they can see it how I do. Just... never really found the impetus, I suppose.

It wasn't long before they'd finished lunch, collected the foals and headed back outside into the early afternoon sunshine. The group was just milling about from one street to another to kill time before a mid-afternoon concert starring a group called the Canterlot Quartet- Amethyst couldn't stop talking about a cellist named Octavia who she'd been a fan of for years- when a brief gleam of light against metal caught Story's eye. He glanced towards the source... and froze again, having to consciously keep his jaw from dropping.

“Clockwork's Clocks” read the dark oak sign over the shop's doors. He couldn't even remember if he'd seen it in the abandoned future version of the city- he'd been too busy watching for pursuit. Now, though, it was a gleaming, gold-and-silver gilded store, through which he could see- and, he imagined, could almost hear- the ticking of the countless clocks standing on almost every flat surface inside.

“Story?” First called after him, breaking the brief trance. The group had covered a bit of distance before noticing he'd stopped. “You okay over there?”

He shook his head to clear it. “Um... yeah,” he called back. “Go on ahead; I'll catch up. I want to check something out.”

“Okay then! We'll probably stay on Cinch Road for a while. If you're there past four, come look for us at the concert!”

The group continued down the street as Story trotted into the clock store. It wasn't as loud as he'd expected- most of the clocks weren't wound, probably just because of that sort of problem- but the steady ticks of multiple timepieces made for an effective form of background white noise, making the outside world seem more distant. The contrast against the utter silence he'd heard the last time he'd been here was jarring.

“Help you with anything, young stallion?”

Somehow he managed not to jump. An older pony, his green mane streaked with grey in places and his dusk-blue coat showing a bit of age-related paleness, stood next to him with a friendly smile. “Oh, um, no,” Story answered. “Just looking for the moment.”

“Certainly. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” The older stallion- cutie mark of three gears intermeshed; why am I not surprised?- returned to the counter, while Story continued to look for what he knew had caught his eye. And after a moment, he spotted it- the very same winged-unicorn-shaped clock he'd seen before, now clean and gleaming enough to serve as a centerpiece in any display of treasure, with a complex mechanism in its base turning back and forth to mark off the seconds.

“Isn't it a beaut?” the older pony- Clockwork, most likely- said, trotting up again. “Only one other of its kind in the world, and it keeps the time in Celestia's very own bedchambers.”

“I've never seen anything like it.” He was telling the truth. It seemed like every feather of the wings had been given lifelike detail, that the spiral of the horn had been etched with exacting dedication to realism. It seriously looked as though the figurine could just spread those wings and fly off at whatever moment it chose.

“I'd be shocked if you had!” Clockwork guffawed. “This clock and her twin were commissioned by the Princess herself for the Summer Sun celebration back in 997. Well, only one, really, but I made two just to be on the safe side. Stayed up for four days straight crafting them! She chose one, I kept the other. The timekeeping mechanisms are identical- I bet they're still synced!”

“That really is something.” Story had just been about to ask about the clock's uniquely shaped hands when a bell rang out- there was a customer at the counter. Clockwork excused himself, and Story gazed at the clock for a few moments more before turning away to look out the front windows. Yeah, I remember hiding behind that counter when I saw something outside before, and I guess that building across the way with the scaffolding was the one that the timberwolf fell off of- probably was one of the first buildings to start crumbling after whatever happened- and... wait, what's that?

A small, light-grey shape near the scaffolding caught his attention, and he approached the window. “Dinky...?” he murmured, not quite believing his eyes. “What's she doing by herself...?”

It didn't look like any of the rest of the group were nearby. Quickly, Story flung open the door of the shop with his magic and cantered out, intent on finding out what was going on. “Dinky?” he called out as he weaved his way across the street. “Hey, Dinky. What are you doing all alone, kiddo?”

If the filly heard him, she showed no sign of it, instead slowly walking towards an alley just past the scaffolding. Concerned, Story picked up his pace, almost running into a few ponies. “Dinky!” he practically shouted.

A sound tickled at his left ear, barely audible above the noise of the crowds- a strange metallic groan. He paid it no heed at first, intent on getting to Derpy's daughter and finding out what was wrong with her- but then a harsh snap caught his attention, and he froze in his tracks, ears flicking back and forth, not even registering how weird that felt as he searched for a potential threat.

The groan returned, louder than before, partnered with more snapping noises, and there was movement in the corner of his eye. The scaffold!

He didn't even need to think. Dinky was too far away to grab with his magic, so he pushed himself into a gallop, charging up to her with a clatter of hooves that she didn't even flinch at. He swore he could feel dust falling on his coat as he scooped up the unresponsive filly in his magical grip, sat her firmly on his back and then... slipped as he tried to cut a tight turn. He just barely caught himself from falling, keeping all four hooves underneath, and muttering every profanity he knew under his breath as he scrambled to get out from the far-too-heavy-to-levitate construction rigging. Too close too close TOO CLOSE-

BANG

The edge of the scaffolding just brushed the end of his tail as it hit the ground with an ear-splitting racket; the jolt it sent through the ground took Story off-balance, and he hit the ground chest-first, still keeping Dinky on his back as well as he could. The ringing in his ears faded after a moment, leaving him catching voices in mid-sentence.

“...you see that thing fall? What happened?!”

“...ran right in, it was amazing!”

“...saved that poor filly!”

“Dinky!” came a familiar voice over all the chattering. Derpy came swooping in, causing the crowd to scatter before her. “Story! What happened?!”

The rest of the group was close behind as Derpy pulled her daughter off of Story's back, pulling her close; the foal shook her head slowly, as if she were waking up. “Derpy, how'd she get here?” Story asked. “I looked out the window from the clock shop and saw her hanging out by that scaffolding. She wouldn't answer me when I called for her, then....”

“...Mama?” Dinky's voice was slurred. “Wh... what happened? Where am I?”

“Easy, Muffin, easy. Mama's got you.” The group crowded around the dazed-looking foal and her worried mother; the crowd seemed hushed, some of the ponies trotting away looking worried. After a few moments, the circle of onlookers parted for a pair of imposing-looking stallions bedecked in gold armor. “What happened here?” one of them inquired.

One of the onlookers, a lemon-yellow mare with a blue mane, turned towards them. “That little filly must have wandered off on her own, sir. The grey stallion there pulled her right out from under that scaffold just before it crashed!”

“I see.” The stallion looked over at Derpy. “Ma'am, how did the foal get away from you?”

Derpy was practically in tears. “I don't know, mister guard! I turned my flank for, like, one second! Then she was gone!”

“Sir,” Thunderlane broke in, “there were seven of us there with her, and none of us saw her wander off. It was like she vanished.”

The guard leaned forward to peer at the confused-looking unicorn filly for a moment... and then his expression softened just a little. “Miss, you're much too young to go teleporting around by yourself,” he teased gently. “So stay near your mother from now on, hm?” He smiled at Dinky's confused nod before turning to Story. “As for you, sir, it seems that your quick thinking may have saved a young life. What's your name?”

“I'm, uh, Story Seeker.”

“The Princesses will hear of this act of heroism, Mr. Seeker. I'm sure they'll reward you fittingly.” The guard turned. “Alright, now, everypony, you can disperse. Nopony is hurt. The Royal Guard will handle things from here.”

The crowd began to break apart, murmuring amongst themselves about what they'd seen; the two guards made their way towards the collapsed scaffolding, where the apparent owner of the building stood with an expression of shock. Derpy gently set Dinky down on the ground- and then flung herself at Story, wrapping her forelegs around him tightly. “Thank you so much for saving my Dinky,” she sobbed.

“Yeah, if you hadn't been there....” Noteworthy glanced at the wreckage next to the building. “...ugh. I don't even want to think about it.”

“Who knew the boring historian in the vest was secretly Daring Do?” First chuckled, mussing Story's mane.

“Um....” Everyone stopped and turned towards Dinky as she carefully stood. “What... what's going on? Why's everypony here? How did we get here?”

“Muffin, are you okay?” Derpy worried over her daughter, looking her over carefully. “Yeah, Mama, I'm okay,” the filly replied. “I just... I don't remember how I got here.”

“What's the last thing you do remember, sweetheart?” Amethyst asked.

“Well, I was walking with you guys, and I looked down an alley, and there was... something there. I don't remember what, but I think I just felt like I had to take a look, you know? And then... poof, here.”

“That's weird.” Sparkler frowned. “I don't remember seeing anything strange in an alley.”

First took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Wow. This wasn't the sort of excitement I was looking for in Canterlot! But thank Celestia everypony's okay. Let's all get moving... I think some classical music will help us all calm down, and then we can see if the Guard figures out what happened.”

Everyone else agreed to that, and Derpy carefully put Dinky on her back before heading out with the rest of the group. Story hung back for a moment, still trying to work out what had just happened; his ears just barely picked up a moment of conversation between the two Guard ponies.

“...right here, sir. Have a look.”

“I've never seen rust marks like this... have you, Corporal?”

“No, sir. I'm not even sure it's rust- the rest of the rigging looks sound. If this one spot hadn't given out I doubt the scaffold would've fallen.”

“Strange. And that smell... I'd almost say that the metal was rotted through, somehow....”