“Goddamn it!”

Linkara fell backwards and tried his hardest not to scream any more obscenities into the heavens – if the heavens could even hear him through the deep, no doubt eldritch fog and thick canopy of the forest. He wanted to clench his fists hard in frustration, but hooves robbed him of the simple pleasure of having fingers. He settled for gritting his teeth and stomping his way through the creepy town’s dirt streets and barging back into the bar. The first time he walked in he found a rustic charm to it, like a western saloon or somesuch, but  way back after visit number three he was beyond the point of caring.

“Look bub,” he barked at the bartender, raising his front legs and slamming them on the counter, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I cannot, repeat, cannot get out of this freaking town! You have ten seconds, exactly ten seconds to tell me what the hell is going on with this place and point me in the direction of whatever ancient evil I have to fight so I can leave or I’ll… I’ll…” He bit his tongue and silently fumed; can’t lose control, can’t give into anger, his magic relied on him being a good person. “I don’t know what, but seriously, throw me a bone here!”

The wizened old horse gave him a scowl. “Boy, I gave you directions five bucking times already. It’s a straight shot out of town once you find the road; I don’t know how you keep getting lost!”

“I am not getting lost,” he repeated with a deep breath, “something in the fog is turning me around every time I leave, and I end up back here again. I don’t sense any hoodoo going on here, but I know evil fog when I see it!”

“Fog ain’t evil, you paranoid nutjob,” the old man spat back. “Fog can’t be evil; it’s just fog! Didn’t nopony teach you what fog is in school?”

“I’ll have you know I have a college edu-” He bit his tongue again and swallowed his pride. “Look sir, I know that something is wrong with this town. I am a wizard and I know a cursed town when I’m in one. Are you sure nothing’s been weird around here lately?”

“Only thing weird around here has been you and that crater you arrived in, and my hospitality can only go so far,” the bartender spat. “Go on and get, you crazy bastard!”

“But I can’t even-!”

“If Trixie may cut in…”

Linkara’s ears perked up and he turned his head. A blue unicorn was sliding out of her seat, a wizard’s hat on her head and a cape across her back. She was a slight bit shorter than him, probably quite a bit younger.

"The Great and Power... Apologetic Trixie has found it greatly amusing to see you flail like this for the past hour, but now it's getting dull,” she said quite bluntly with a small smile. “Her show is done here, so do you want to accompany her out of town? She’s been in and out of Hollow Shades many times, and she can assure you it isn’t cursed."

“Whatever gets him out of here,” the old man huffed. “Consider your tab paid next time you visit, girl.”

“Trixie thanks you,” she said with a small bow, trotting towards the door. “Come along, Trixie will show you the way out of town. We just need to get her wagon first.”

Linkara frowned and followed, trying to keep his head held high as he was being lead around like a clueless child.

He stepped through the door, and found himself in the misty streets again. He could barely see five feet in front of him, let alone ten, and his glasses constantly got fogged up to the point of being useless. With a deep breath, he got his composure back and followed the stranger very close.

“Thanks for that,” he said. “I’m not sure I could’ve kept my cool if I kept talking much longer.”

“If that’s what you consider keeping cool, what do you consider losing your temper?” she asked pointedly, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed a bit nervously. “Uh… yeah, I kind of acted like an ass back there, didn’t I?”

The good Samaritan’s eyes narrowed. “The use of racial slurs isn’t helping, but yes, you did.”

He blinked, not having the faintest clue what she meant, but decided to act like he did. “Oh, right, sorry. Force of habit; parents used that word all the time when I was a kid,” he fibbed.

“Trixie sees,” she said evenly. He guessed her name was Trixie and that she just had a thing for third person; he could roll with that.

He sighed and added, “Look, I’m really sorry. I don’t usually act like that, honest. I mean, I used to. A while back I acted like a major jerk to just about everybody I knew for a bit, but I’ve been trying to get better. I mean… I like to think that I have, but sometimes I guess I just relapse, you know?” he explained.

“Trixie… knows what that’s like,” she said, hesitance clear as she looked away.

He mentally facepalmed; digging up bad memories in his guide right off the bat, good going. “I think we all do at some point,” he tried to assure her.

“Some of us do more horrible things than others,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “Surely you heard of that incident with the alicorn amulet in Ponyville?”

“I can’t say that I have,” he admitted, brow furrowed.

“No offense, but you must live under a rock. It was all over the papers for a while,” she scoffed. “The entire town got enslaved for a day in a short-lived dictatorship due to a lunatic mage wearing the alicorn amulet. And that lunatic was Trixie, though nopony told her that the amulet makes the wearer more aggressive and irrational before she put it on.”

“Oh…” was all he could think to say to that.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Trixie repeated with a sigh. “Nopony was willing to speak to Trixie for months afterward, which meant no money, which meant she was pretty much destitute for the better part of a year.”

He cringed a bit in sympathy; definitely not much he could say to that. “Well… if it makes you feel better, when I went mad with power I almost held a major corporate office hostage and threatened to destroy it. No magic artifact or anything, I was just… well, a major dick, pardon my language.” He decided to leave out the part that it was an AI hologram copy of himself that almost did it and that it – and by proxy, him – was fully willing to kill all his friends if it had to. Too long of a story with technobabble about technology he wasn’t even sure existed on this world.

Trixie turned back to him to look him over. “Trixie supposes she has an excuse, at least. Why was that never in the papers? You’d have to be a pretty powerful unicorn to think you could do that, and the palace doesn’t take kindly to terrorism.”

“It was very far away. I’m not from around here,” he brushed off hastily. “And I’m not that powerful. I mean, I’m learning, and I know some really nifty spells that’ve gotten me through a few fights, but I’m self taught. I didn’t even really learn how my magic worked until last year.”

“A self taught mage who took an entire building hostage,” she repeated. “Why exactly did you do that, again?”

“It’s a long, embarrassing, personal story,” he said with a bit of a groan.

“Well, if Trixie is going to be taking on a passenger that’s so dangerous, she’d like to know more about him,” she said pointedly, giving him a wary look.

“Can it wait until we’re on the road?” he asked, trying not to sound like he was pleading.

“If you really want,” she said with a small huff, nose in the air. “Let it not be said that Trixie was ever a nosy mare.” Through the fog, a wagon came into view. It was small, barely big enough to hold one person – or little horse, he guessed. Her horn glowed as she trotted up to the front of it, latching herself into the harness with levitation magic. “Okay, just follow Trixie and she’ll make sure you don’t get lost again.”

Linkara bit back his belief that the town was cursed and that no he did not get lost. He said instead, “Do you want me to pull the carriage? I mean, far be it from me to say you can’t, but it’s the least I could do for you since you’re taking a chance on me.”

Trixie looked him up and down before just trotting forward, carrying the wagon behind her with ease, betraying sheer muscle she didn’t even look like she had. “No offense, but you look too out of shape to do so. Trixie is more than strong enough. Just trot beside me and try to keep up.”

He blinked at her sheer speed before galloping to get to her side again. “Well, okay, if you’re sure,” he said as he slowed to a trot beside her.

“Trixie is,” she said curtly, not looking him in the eye. “And you said your name is…?”

“Linkara,” he finished.

“Odd name,” she said, looking to him and sizing him up all over, as if he was constantly changing shape. “If you don’t want to give away your full past, may Trixie at least ask what your cutie mark means? It certainly doesn’t say your talent is magic, unless there’s some sort of obscure school of magic that requires pens.”

Linkara blinked in confusion before following her gaze at his own hip. He couldn’t get a good look at it from his angle, but amidst his own dark green fur was some sort of picture or tattoo of a box of red pens, with one striking a line across his flank.

“Um… well, I was an English major in college,” he ventured, trying not to sound like he was making it up, “and I pretty much make a living pointing out other people’s mistakes. So yeah, my talent is pointing out and correcting errors.”

“And yet you’re a wizard, not a teacher,” she repeated back to him, brow furrowed.

“Well… yes,” he said, realizing how bizarre it sounded. “But there’s a lot of mistakes that can be fixed with a bit of sorcery too, right?”

“Trixie supposes,” she admitted, hesitant.

“What about yours?” he asked, his eyes staying away from the stranger’s hip.

“Trixie is a showmare,” she said proudly, nose held high as she pulled her raggedy wagon along. “She wows audiences with her magic, and bits fill her hat by the time she leaves.” Her pride faded and ears dropped before she added, “Used to, anyway. Even after everypony forgot or forgave the alicorn amulet incident, I still only make enough to get by now.”

He took mental note of her dropping into first person and said, “I don’t exactly live the glamorous life back home, either. Some people just refuse to let me make money off my work, so my finances could be doing better too. Still, I do have a roof over my head, so sorry about what you’re going through.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” she assured. “Life on the road chose Trixie, and she’s learned to like it. She doesn’t really know any other life now. Speaking of which, we’re on the road now.”

Linkara looked around to see the shadows of trees instead of the shadows of buildings around them, roots anchored into the edge of the dirt road. “Yeah, and this is the part where I usually get turned around in the fog,” he mumbled, wishing he still had fingers so he could get his magic gun ready since he still had no idea how to do the levitate-y thing.

Trixie sighed and shook her head. “Is it really so hard to believe that you got lost? Are you so good at navigation that your cutie mark should be a compass rose like Daring Do?”

“I…” He closed his mouth again and sighed. “Well… no… and there was that time I got lost for a month trying to go to a city north of me and somehow kept… going south… eheh.”

“So you thought that the town was cursed because you can’t tell a compass from your own plot,” she said flatly.

He started and aborted several stumbling defenses before just admitting, “Yes.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and huffed. “Stallions. Look, the train station is just outside the forest, and we’ll be there far before nightfall. We’ll have to part ways there; the train will get you wherever you need to go.”

“Canterlot, right,” he nodded, hoping he remembered where to go correctly. “Where are you going?”

“Trixie was thinking perhaps she would head south, since she’s done several shows in all the major eastern towns lately. Dodge Junction then Appleloosa,” she mused. “It’s either that or head west, and she doesn’t like doing shows in Canterlot and isn’t keen on visiting Ponyville again, and it’s a long road until I’d reach any towns further west than them.”

“Why don’t you like performing in Canterlot?” he asked.

“Ponies there have far more bits to spend, yet are stingier than any other,” she scoffed. “And they aren’t good audience members, since they’ll just try to interrupt her act with their own magic. Trixie would rather not deal with the headache.”

“Well, just… stay safe, okay?” he said.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Trixie has before now; she can take care of herself. She’s more concerned about you getting hopelessly lost again before you… come to think of it, why are you going to Canterlot?”

“I’m after a dangerous mage by the name of Kefka. He’s crazy, powerful, dangerous, and I have no idea where he is. He dresses up like a clown and burning towns to the ground, and that's all I have to go on,” he said; coming up with a lie that would mesh with a world he knew nothing about would be too much of a gamble. “I’m hoping to get in touch with the king and hope he can help.”

“Linkara… we don’t have a king,” she said firmly, muscles tensing.

His brain seized up and his heart skipped a beat. “B-but… this is a kingdom, isn’t it?”

“We call it a kingdom, but we don’t have a king. We’ve never had a king,” she said, her voice low and wary. “Literally everypony knows that, even foreigners. Equestria is a hard country to ignore.”

Linkara gulped nervously. “Okay, you see, I-”

Trixie’s horn glowed and her harness came undone. Before it even fell to the ground, she circled around in front of him with a hard glare and in a battle stance. “Trixie is a showmare, but she knows how to handle herself in a fight and she’s starting to doubt you’re as good a wizard as you claim, and it's become quite clear you're not being honest, or you're barking mad. Chasing a mad magic clown? Really? And committing an act of terrorism that was never in the papers? What kind of fool do you take her for? You tell her exactly where you’re from and what you’re up to or she’s dragging you back into town and getting the sheriff. After your little episode in front of the bartender, it'd be easy to corroborate the theory you're insane and dangerous, if only to yourself. You have one last chance to prove you aren't.”

Linkara took a step back, sizing her up. She had more muscle than it looked like, and he didn’t know how he could use his magic gun, or his morpher, or his anything thanks to lack of hands. Bringing knowledge of aliens to an untouched species was against his rules, but he couldn’t afford to lose any more time, and the odds of fighting it out… not in his favor.

“Well, poop…”

Head felt like it was broken open like an egg and glued back together. Everything else, throbbing. Stomach felt like a geyser bubbling and about to blow. Consciousness, not all it was cracked up to be. Staying in a coma would have been nice.

Lyra did not get such a luxury. She slowly woke up with a groan, restraints still digging into her skin. Brain still fogged, she tugged with her foreleg and shifted her… hands.

Wait.

Her eyes snapped open, her mind clawing through the fog. The bonds on her neck and muzzle kept her from looking around or even saying anything, but she could definitely feel them – fingers! Hands! She would have squealed for joy if she wasn’t still tied down.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she heard Insano say somewhere behind her. “Took you long enough; I was starting to think you fell into the two percent margin of failure. Hold your fucking horses, I’ll undo your arms.”

Arms! Oh, it felt so good to hear that word. The straps came undone, and Lyra brought what used to be her forelegs up to her face. Indeed, a pair of hands covered in mint-green fur was before her, thin, articulated, and completely real. She flexed them slowly. The feeling was alien, like she was remotely controlling them instead of the natural feel of moving part of her body, but damn it, they were hers!

“Okay, I’m going to untie your head and muzzle now,” Insano cut in. “I didn’t do anything to your face, since any deformities there would get me in huge trouble, but there may have been some nerve damage. I’m going to need you to speak to me, quite clearly, so I know you can still talk.”

The bonds came undone.

Lyra let out a joyful sound somewhere between a shriek and a squee.

“Jesus fuck!” Insano shouted along with a thud of him falling backwards. “I think you burst my goddamn eardrums!”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, they’re perfect!” she gushed, flexing her fingers over and over again and wiggling on the table. “I actually have hands! Honest to Celestia hands!”

“Yes, yes, I’m very happy for you,” he grumbled angrily. “After you’re done babbling, can we test out your legs? I need to make sure you can still walk.”

“Legs? Oh, right, legs!” she said happily, looking over her shoulder. With a huge smile, she moved her fluffy tail out of the way to see… hooves. “Wait, where are my new feet?”

“What new feet? Feet are incredibly complex and have more bones than the rest of the human body. There’s no way I’m going to introduce plasmids with human genes and make your feet in the same day,” he scoffed as he rose back up. “If a single bone was out of place, you’d be in crippling pain and it’d be difficult as hell to fix it. For now, this is the best you’re getting.”

“Not in any human skeleton model I’ve seen,” she said, looking at him with a tilted head. “I mean, yeah, they’re all entirely fictionalized, but I always saw them as pretty simple.”

“Those are fantasy artists playing at biology, anatomy, and chiropractics, which I happen to have a master’s degree in,” he spat. “Do you have a master’s degree in those fields?”

“Well, no, but-”

“But nothing, I’m the expert here, and I know how a human foot works,” he interrupted. “Untying your legs now; just need you to take a few steps.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Her legs freed, she turned onto her back and looked herself over. Her physique was much the same, save for the human additions, but her skeleton was everything she’d hoped for. With a huge grin, she hopped off the table.

And teetered forward, faceplanting into the floor.

“Owowowow!” she whined, rolling over and holding her nose.

“Oh for the love of- get up!” Magic gripped her and roughly pulled her upright. Holding her bleeding snout, she set her hooves gently down on the tile. “Goddammit, I try to keep this lab as sterile as possible.” With a scowl, he levitated a tissue towards her.

She awkwardly reached out and fumbled for it, pressing it against her nose. “My bad…”

“Yes, your bad,” he mumbled. “Please try your best to walk properly like an adult.”

“Hey, I’m not used to having just two legs!” she huffed. Looking down at her two hooves, she suddenly felt very… tall. And kind of dizzy from being so tall. She shook her head and looked straight ahead instead, moving her leg forward and setting it down shakily. “O-okay, there’s one…”

Insano tapped his own hoof, watching her intently.

She took her other leg and started moving it forward. She let out a small gasp when she teetered on her planted leg, but managed to right herself and set the other one down in front of her. The next step was much easier. Then the next. Then the next.

“I’m walking! Holy buck, I’m walking on two legs!” she laughed as she strutted around like a fashion model. Or tried to, at least, before she almost fell over again, but she caught herself on the side of a desk.

“Okay, that’s a good start; huge success, I’d say,” he cackled softly. “One last thing: how much do you remember from before the surgery?”

Lyra blinked blankly as she righted herself. “Not anything, really. I mean, I remember coming down here, and then… nothing. Why, is that bad?”

“No, no, that’s better than expected. There’s usually some short-term memory loss of the time before the anesthesia is applied,” he assured with a Discordian grin. “Nothing to fret over. You’ll get the cheque in the mail, though it’d be in your best interests if you came to visit me every day for the next few weeks. I need to run diagnostics to make sure your equine body isn’t rejecting your new simian genetics.”

“I think I can manage that,” she said with a smile, standing fully upright and confident. “Bonny brings in most of the bits anyway, so my schedule’s open.”

“Good, now if you’d kindly get going, I have more experiments to run. Your Princess wants an automated magic shield by the end of the week or my funding gets cut,” he said with a shooing motion. “Go out and get yourself some pants or something.”

“Um… why would I need pants?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“Because you aren’t wearing any?” he replied, looking just as confused.

“And…? Clothes are a waste of money for rich folks to burn their bits on,” she said with a small snort.

Insano facehoofed. “Just… please get out of here before this conversation gets any more uncomfortable. Try not to break any bones; I worked very hard to make them function optimally.”

Lyra gave him a perplexed look before shrugging and walking towards the door. Her stride was a bit shaky, and she had to keep herself from falling every few steps, but hot damn she was walking on two legs! “Thank you again, Doctor Insano! It’s everything I ever wanted!” she said over her shoulder with her first wave, stepping into the elevator. She tried to shift her fingers to push the button, but ending up just mashing it with her knuckles.

“No need to thank me,” he said nonchalantly as he turned to one of his machines. “I already have what I needed out of it…”

She could have sworn she heard him cackle under his breath, but the elevator door closed before she could ask what was so funny.