Twilight stood on the deck of the Rach’thar, looking toward Druthi with a sickening mixture of anxiety and anticipation settling into her gut.

The sun hung in the air, beating down with a heat that never quite seemed to warm enough against the chilly air. Twilight had to squint through the sunlight, making Druthi just a series of dark shapes on the horizon until her eyes adjusted.

First, she saw the docks. They extended from the buildings on the mainland out over the beach and into the water. They were lined with ships tethered by rope to the wooden walkways, every place a ship could go occupied except one: the space the Rach’thar was heading right toward.

Past the docks were the first buildings, but it seemed as if there were no real distinction between the two. The buildings just beyond the docks were small and wooden, and leaned at odd angles. There were pieces of wood sticking off them in all directions, with no rhyme, reason, or structural guidelines to govern them; they were like tumors growing out of the port itself.

The buildings grew larger and more complex the further inland Twilight’s eyes wandered. First they were wooden shacks, then larger structures built of stone, then, in the distance, Twilight could make out a few tall spires stretching into the sky.

Green waves lapped at the long legs of the docks and crashed against a rocky outcropping that stuck out from the shore. White foam carried on the waves gathered, then dispersed just as quickly as more water came and washed it away.

The only large building on the waterfront was an enormous white lighthouse that towered above the surrounding buildings. It was the biggest lighthouse Twilight had ever seen, and after a mental size comparison to her own home in Ponyville, and then to the palace in Canterlot, Twilight came to the conclusion that the lighthouse wasn’t just big; it was enormous.

Twilight caught Kevrana frowning at her out of the corner of her eye, and turned to face her. “What?” Twilight asked.

Kevrana averted her gaze. “Nothing,” she said. Then, she frowned even harder. “Wait here,” she instructed before disappearing into the bulkhead that led below deck.

Once she was gone, Twilight saw Hadran standing at the edge of the boat, glaring at her. She could only hold his gaze for a moment before gulping and looking back toward the shore.

She couldn’t focus on Druthi for long, however, as she caught wary glances from the rest of the crew, who all seemed to be staying as far away from her as possible. They would stare at her when they thought she couldn’t see them, and look away when she tried to meet their eyes. She shifted under their gaze, shuffling her hooves and letting out a small cough.

Luckily, it was then that Kevrana reappeared with a large black cloth draped over her back and a bag slung over one shoulder. The other crew members became much more interested in looking at the shore as Kevrana approached Twilight.

“What’s that for?” Twilight asked.

Kevrana stopped a few feet short of Twilight, but didn’t answer. Her expression became one Twilight was familiar with: Kevrana was psyching herself up, though for what, Twilight had no idea. After a few moments, she nodded to herself and closed the rest of the distance.

“It would be bad if anypony discovered that you are a unicorn,” Kevrana explained, throwing the cloak over Twilight’s form. “It may draw bad attention before we find out what happened.”

Twilight wanted to say that she already knew what had happened to her, but she kept her mouth shut. For all she knew, they might actually find a clue as to how she was sent to the future.

She nodded and assisted Kevrana in pulling the hood over her head. With a little dexterity, the two mares successfully hid Twilight’s horn in the folds of the hood, with the rest of the thick black cloak draped over Twilight’s body.

Kevrana took a step back and admired her work. “Erfa,” she said.

“What?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, I am sorry,” Kevrana responded, “I forgot you do not speak Guld.” She tapped her chin with her hoof. “‘Erfa’ basically means... 'example?’ Or something to copy? Maybe... 'perfect!' Yes, perfect.”

Twilight nodded, making a mental note. “Erfa means perfect,” she said. “Got it. So is Guld the name of your language?”

“My language and my people,” Kevrana responded. She made a sweeping gesture with a hoof over the whole boat. “The Rach’thar is Guld, these ponies are Guld; the only thing on the ship that is not Guld is you, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight looked around. "I noticed," she muttered. As far as she knew, the Guld didn’t exist in her Equestria. How many other races would she have to meet and become acclimated to? It would be nearly impossible for two thousand years to have passed and the culture and customs of the ponies on the shore to not be completely unfamiliar to her. Sure, Druthi might look like it could fit in Equestria from a distance, but once she got close, how different would it be? Luna had so much trouble adapting to Equestria after only one thousand years of absence; Twilight had apparently been gone double that. There was a whole new world to learn about, more history than was recorded in the Equestria she had left behind.

“Twilight, are you alright?” she heard Kevrana ask. “You have lost your color.”

With a deep breath, Twilight shut her eyes. She could feel herself teetering over the brink of hysteria, and that was not a place she liked to be. Usually Spike would be there to help her snap out of it, but he was gone, just like the rest of her friends. And her home. And...

She wondered what Spike would say if he saw her like this, on the verge of tears.

“Geeze, Twilight, lighten up! You’ve found your way out of crazier jams than this one. You dealt with not one, but two legendary beings, the changeling invasion, a crazy ancient amulet, and you’ve saved my scales more times than I can even count! I’m sure you’ll find your way back, and when you do, I’ll be waiting. But until then, you gotta stay strong, ‘kay?”

Twilight smiled. “Okay,” she said.

“Hm?”

Twilight opened her eyes to find Kevrana looking at her. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just giving myself a little pep-talk, that’s all.”

Kevrana opened her mouth, then closed it again. “As long as you are alright."

Both mares looked back toward the shore, which had snuck much closer in the time their eyes were away. Twilight gulped, but in the next instant she clenched her jaw and steeled her nerve. If she were going to get through this, she would need to tackle it with the attitude of a determined Rainbow Dash.

Is there any other kind?

As the boat drew nearer and nearer to the dock, Twilight saw several ponies trotting to and fro on the walkways. Some were standing around, watching the boat as it grew steadily larger in their vision.

“Vease nauta!” Hadran shouted, making Twilight jump a little. She clutched her chest. Hadran smirked at her reaction.

Like clockwork, eight of the crew positioned themselves next to eight levers on the periphery of the deck, four on each side, while Hadran disappeared below deck.

“What did he say?” Twilight asked.

“‘Stop the boat,’” Kevrana responded. “Hadran has to go below to help the engineer stop the ship.”

The Rach'thar approached the dock. And kept approaching. Twilight looked around, and just as she was about to ask if there was something wrong, there was a sickening lurch as the boat’s speed plummeted. Twilight stumbled forward, but none of the Guld seemed to be affected. Then the ponies positioned near the levers each pulled their lever upward, leading to a further reduction in speed. Wind no longer blew through Twilight’s ears, and she could hear the words of the ponies on the dock.

She smiled a little; they were words she recognized.

The Rach’thar inched into its place in the harbor, now moving slow enough that some of the ponies on the dock reared back and put their hooves on the hull to bring it to a rest.

Less than two minutes after Hadran had given the order, the Rach’thar had docked in the port of Druthi.

“Wow,” Twilight said. “That was... efficient.”

Kevrana smiled. “We have much practice.”

As the gangplank was lowered to allow access to the shore, Hadran reappeared from the bulkhead. He started toward the rest of the crew, who were waiting to be let off the boat.

Twilight started after him. “Hadran,” she said.

“Twilight, what are you doing?” Kevrana asked, but Twilight ignored her.

Hadran spun around, came face-to-face with Twilight, and froze. His eyes went wide, and Twilight could almost swear that she heard his heart rate triple. He turned as white as Celestia’s coat and leaned as far away from her as he could. The reaction made Twilight doubt her course of action for a moment, but she decided to forge ahead.

She smiled, trying her hardest to put him at ease, but he seemed determined to be repulsed by her. No, not just repulsed. Terrified. Nonetheless, she had studied the magic of friendship extensively, and she knew that if you wanted to make a friend, you often had to be the one to make the first move.

“Erfa,” she said with a small nod, widening her smile a bit.

Then she turned around and, as she walked back to Kevrana, she saw the salvager quickly put something into her bag.

“What was that?” Twilight asked.

“Nothing,” Kevrana said, a little too quickly. Then she was looking past her at Hadran. “He looks confused, and pale. What did you say to him?” she asked whenever Twilight was close.

Twilight told her, and when she turned back around, Hadran looked away and started once again toward the gangplank.

“That was... unexpected,” Kevrana said. “Is everypony so friendly where you are from?”

Twilight nibbled on her lower lip. “Not everypony, but most of them are. To a lot of Equestrians, myself included, friendship is one of the most important things in the world. Friendship is magic, as they say.”

Kevrana frowned. "Magic is dangerous.”

Twilight didn’t have a response. She turned; the last few crew members were filing off the ship. Kevrana, Twilight in tow, walked down the gangplank and struck the dock with her hoof.

The breeze blowing off the ocean was frigid, but Twilight’s cloak managed to stave off some of the cold. She followed Kevrana around the Rach’thar toward the stairs that led away from the dock, but a large earth pony stepped in their way.

He raised an eyebrow at Twilight. “Pickin’ up stragglers now, are we Kevrana? Where’d you find this’n? At the bottom o’ the sea?”

“You are close! She was floating in the water,” Kevrana responded. “Twilight, this is Rudder. He is master of the docks. He is the first pony we see when we dock, and the last one we see when we leave.”

“Ya don’t say,” Rudder said, raising an eyebrow at Twilight. “And how’d ye get to be floatin’ in Northern Sea, lass? It ain’t exactly still water and sunny beaches up here.”

Twilight looked down. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I can’t remember.”

Rudder pursed his lips and examined Twilight’s face. This was it: the moment Twilight had been dreading. What if he had some strange custom that she didn’t know about? What if she offended him, or his family, or his heritage, or his profession, or his home town, or any other uncountable things that would be dear to him? She thought about throwing herself off the dock to avoid the confrontation, but then remembered how awful it was to be pulled out of that sea. So she stayed rooted in place, waiting for Rudder to see right through her and trying not to vomit.

After a long, uncomfortable moment, he smiled a big, toothy grin and stuck his hoof out. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, lass! Any friend o’ Kevrana’s is a friend o’ mine, regardless o’ the circumstances behind which they came to be floatin’ in the middle o’ the sea.”

Twilight reached out, shook his hoof, and smiled, her muscles relaxing. At least this was familiar. And now, of the ponies she had spoken to, there was a two-to-one ratio of friendly to unfriendly, a figure that put Twilight a little more at ease. “Nice to meet you, too,” she responded.

Rudder turned to Kevrana. “I gotta ask, Kevrana. What's with the cloak? She wasn't wearing it when ya found 'er, was she?”

Kevrana shook her head. "We gave it to her."

"Seems a bit... much. You know, what with---"

"She will be fine, Rudder." Kevrana smiled. "I promise."

Rudder shrugged, then turned back to Twilight. "Why are you wearing that tarp, anyway?"

Twilight articulated the first excuse that popped into her head. “I was cold.”

Rudder just stared at her for a moment. “Cold?” he asked, incredulous. “Nopony who lives in Druthi would get cold on such a fine Autumn day. You aren’t from around here, are you, lass?”

Twilight shook her head.

“Well, you must be far from home, then,” Rudder said. “Ain’t no city by land or sea for miles.”

Twilight nodded.

“That is something we are curious about,” Kevrana said. “Have you heard of anypony missing in Druthi? We are trying to find out if anypony saw Twilight in town before....”

Rudder’s face scrunched up. “Can’t say that I have,” he said, prompting the two mare’s shoulders to sag. “No more than usual, at least. But I ain’t exactly a conduit for local information,” he continued. “You might try Salty Tap, the barkeep at the Drunken Uncle. He’s a vicious gossip, but he’s well-informed. Just head along the edge o’ the wharf district and ya can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, Rudder,” Kevrana said.

“Don’t mention it, lass.”

There was a long silence. “Well,” Rudder finally said, “I won’t keep you two any longer with my jibber-jabbin.’ Off with ye; I got work to do.”

With that, Rudder blew past the two mares, and continued down the dock.

"What was that he was saying?" Twilight asked. "About my cloak?"

“It is nothing." She started walking toward the steps. "I will tell you when there is more time. There is much, much to tell you, but streets are bad for talking."

Twilight frowned. "That sounds... ominous."

Kevrana smiled. "Do not worry, Twilight! All will be well. What would you like to do firs—”

She was interrupted by a long, low grumble from Twilight’s belly, prompting the unicorn the blush. Kevrana giggled. “Let us find food.”

Kevrana led Twilight up from the dock and into the streets of Druthi. They passed several wooden buildings that could only generously be called shacks; some of them were leaning so badly that Twilight expected them to collapse at any moment. Clothes lines stretched across the street itself, prompting Twilight and Kevrana to go around and under several flowing white sheets. Colts and fillies weaved between the covers, laughing and chasing one another, and every single one was caked with dirt.

They passed a few adults, mostly mares. They all wore haggard expressions; they were thin and their cheekbones were pronounced; their manes were matted and their coats were dirty; and they all averted their gaze as Twilight and Kevrana passed, as if they were ashamed.

“What happened here?” Twilight asked. “Why are the conditions so terrible?”

Kevrana sighed. “Six months ago, a pack of roaming dragons destroyed two towns. I believe they were Easton and Farragut.” Twilight gasped, and Kevrana continued. “The ponies on the southern sides of the towns found lower places to live, and the rest went up, to Druthi.” She gestured to the surrounding buildings. “This is where they live.”

“So they’re refugees?” Twilight asked. Kevrana nodded. “That’s so... dreary.”

Twilight had an idea of how they felt. She had also lost her home, her possessions, and her friends, and she couldn’t even remember how it happened. But at least she had a chance of going back to how things were, or at least believed she did; these ponies were stuck here, unable to ever return to any semblance of normalcy, and they knew it.

She grit her teeth. “You said dragons attacked those towns?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kevrana responded, her brow knitting. “Burned them to the ground.”

“But dragons live in the west,” Twilight said. “They had for thousands of years before Equestria, and they should’ve for thousands after. What happened?”

Kevrana shrugged. “Like many things in Centuria, it was the doing of Ganymede. I hear that he drove them out, just one of his many feats of magic, but you would have to speak with dragons to learn the truth.”

They continued walking, the buildings getting more and more sturdy as they went as wood gave way to stone. The smell of fish was overpowering, but underneath were the sweet scents of cologne and the salty smell of sea brine. Clothes lines were replaced with stalls full of jewelry, and perfume, and fish, and herbs, and spices, and dozens of other things.

Twilight stopped in front of one of the fish peddlars. “Are they... selling those fish?” she asked, receiving a strange look from the vendor.

“Yes,” Kevrana said.

“That’s so wrong.”

“Ponies must eat,” Kevrana offered.

It took Twilight a few moments to pick her jaw up from the ground. “You eat them!” she yelled. “But fish have feelings! How can you just kill them and eat them and think it’s okay?”

Her outburst was drawing attention from the crowd. Kevrana leaned over and whispered, “I am not sure what you mean. Fish are animals; we eat them because we can catch them. It is not as if they talk.”

Twilight’s mind struggled to wrap around the concept; she shook her head and continued muttering about how wrong it all was even as she followed Kevrana’s lead once again, plunging back into the crowd. Eventually, though, she pushed it to the back of her thoughts, filing it away with the other things she would have to come to terms with in her new reality.

As the surroundings changed, so did the ponies. Downtrodden and sullen expressions were replaced by the joviality of the merchant, the good-natured vendors tending to their stalls. Here and there, customers were haggling for better prices on beads and groceries, while from within houses occasional shouting or laughter could be heard. Twilight caught snippets of conversation as she and Kevrana made their way through the narrow streets, weaving around and occasionally pushing aside ponies to get through.

It astounded Twilight how similar everything was to Equestria. Well, except for the fish thing, of course. The language was almost identical, with an occasional new slang term or phrase popping up. The architecture seemed largely intact from her own time, the styling of the northern towns of Equestria very close to Druthi’s. She barely had time to register it, though, in trying to keep up with her companion.

Twilight focused on Kevrana as much as she could, but keeping her cloak on was taking most of her attention. Every time she brushed against another pony, or a pegasus’s wing almost caught the hood, her heart would stop. She held the cloak fast around her form and powered through, constantly having to adjust the hood to make sure her horn remained hidden. With the streets so crowded, Twilight began to sweat under the garment despite the low temperature outside.

Soon, even the stalls began to fade, petering out one by one. Now there were signs hanging above doors signifying different business practices performed there; the streets weren’t quite as crowded here, giving Twilight some much-needed breathing room. Kevrana took a sharp right and pushed open a door, disappearing into a building with a sign that had a bowl of soup on it above the door.

Twilight followed. They found an isolated corner and sat down, awaiting the waiter. Twilight’s stomach growled again, and Kevrana giggled again. Then the waiter appeared, and both mares ordered their food and drink.

They sat in silence for a moment before Twilight asked about something that had been bothering her since the docks.

“So do you really not believe me?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“About what?” Kevrana responded.

“That I’m from Equestria,” Twilight answered. “That I was really sent two thousand years into the future somehow. You asked Rudder if anypony had gone missing around here, like you would find an answer, but you won’t. I know you won’t, because Equestria is my home, and whatever happened to me sent me from there to the middle of the sea.”

Kevrana sighed. “I am not sure what to believe, Twilight. What you say seems impossible, but your horn does not lie. Even if you are mistaken, the only way for you to have ended up here is if you came all the way from the Vale, which seems almost as unlikely. You are a... problem?”

“Gee, thanks,” Twilight replied.

“No,” Kevrana shook her head, “that is not the word. You are strange, Twilight. A... difficulty? No, that is not right either.”

“An enigma?” Twilight offered.

“Yes!” Kevrana confirmed. “You are an enigma, Twilight.”

Twilight shook her head. “Not if you just accept what I’m saying as truth,” she said.

“How can I do that?”

“You just do,” Twilight answered. “I can’t make you believe anything, and I know what it’s like to be on both sides of this problem. I know how it is to be skeptical, to doubt even one of your closest friends because there is no easy explanation.” A certain pink pony’s twitchy tail came to mind. “And I know what it’s like to try and convince everypony of the truth only to have them not believe you, to make you out as the bad pony, even though you’re so sure of what you’re saying.” Queen Chrysalis and the changeling invasion. “So think about it logically,” she continued. “Even if I am delusional, and I came from the Vale, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just tell me that you believe me, so as to ease the transition from delusion to reality?”

Kevrana tapped her hoof on the table and nibbled on her lower lip, staring into Twilight’s eyes for a long while. She reached across the table, stopped, then kept moving, placing her hoof over Twilight’s. “I don’t know why, Twilight,” she said, “but I believe you. Regardless of whether or not what you say is true, you believe it, and for now, that is enough for me.”

Twilight smiled. Kevrana’s sincerity lifted a small weight from her shoulders; it was good to have somepony believe in her.

Their food arrived and they ate largely in silence, mostly because Twilight was inhaling hers without giving it a second thought. The way she figured, she hadn’t eaten in at least two thousand years, so a good meal was deserved. Her broccoli and cheese soup stood no chance against her appetite, but she had to make a conscious effort not to use magic while she was eating. Simply picking up the spoon was an ordeal at first, but she eventually got good enough at it to stuff her face. She wondered if that was how earth ponies and pegasi lived all the time without magic, then shuddered at the thought.

When she was finished, she licked her lip and looked up to see Kevrana, paused with an anchovy near her mouth, staring at her. Twilight ignored the fish as best she could.

“What?” she asked through a mouth full of soup.

Kevrana shook herself back to her senses. “Nothing,” she said, and continued eating.

Twilight considered bringing up the fish thing again, but thought better of it. It might draw attention; the less conspicuous she seemed, the better.

When they were finished, Kevrana paid with some copper pieces and they left. The sun was a little further along in the sky, but there were still at least a few hours of daylight left.

“So,” Twilight said, turning to Kevrana, “what now?”

Kevrana shrugged. “I do not know. What do you want to do?”

Twilight was about to say something snarky about knowing literally nothing about the town, but then an idea occurred to her.

“Does Druthi have a library?” she asked.

Kevrana smiled. “Follow,” she said.

They took a few twists and turns through the streets, which were laid out like a grid, like city blocks in Canterlot. The streets weren’t named, though, not as far as Twilight could see; she wondered how long Kevrana had been in Druthi to know her way around so easily. She began to examine each building they passed, wondering if one of them could be Kevrana’s home. But, like all good scientists, her curiosity got the better of her.

“So which one’s your house?” she asked, trying her hardest to sound casual and not creepy.

Kevrana just laughed. That wasn’t an encouraging response. “No, Twilight,” she said after catching her breath, “I do not live in Druthi. My home is far to the south, in the capital city of the Guld fleet.”

“Fleet?” Twilight questioned. “You live on ships?”

Kevrana rolled the question around in her head. “Yes and no. It is difficult to explain, Twilight. The Guld are nomads; we travel from continent to continent, dropping anchor in whatever place will take us.”

“Hm,” was all Twilight said. Her brain was moving, and her mouth was taking the back seat. She looked around at the familiar architecture and the customs that were largely identical to her own, then looked at Kevrana, who lived a lifestyle entirely different from Equestrians.

The more things change, she thought.

“We are here," Kevrana said, stopping in her tracks.

Twilight looked around, but all the buildings looked the same. “Here?” she asked.

Kevrana nodded, then went into an unassuming tan building that was square and barely two stories tall. Twilight furrowed her brow, searched the facade for any kind of indication that it was a library and, finding none, followed Kevrana inside.

Inside the library, Twilight slumped her shoulders. The building could barely be called what it claimed to be; sure, there were shelves that had books on them, but from the looks of it, more than half those books were missing. There were cushions, but they were ratty and aging, causing Twilight to cast them a mistrustful glance. Behind the counter stood an elderly mare who was staring at the opposite wall, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of her mouth.

Kevrana sojourned to a corner and began digging around in her leather bag, pulling out a small screwdriver and a dull metal sphere. She started fiddling around with the sphere, but Twilight felt she had more important things to do and went off in search of answers.

She decided to start with the history section. Textbooks would give her the most information in the shortest amount of time, and she needed to cram. As she browsed the shelves, the familiar smell of leather-bound books and the crisp scent of paper filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes, and for just a moment, she convinced herself she was back home.

But she wasn’t home, and there were things to learn, and if Twilight Sparkle knew how to do anything, it was learn. While the library’s selection was certainly lacking, there were still a few history books on the shelves. With a quick glance back to make sure the librarian’s stupor was as real as it seemed, Twilight used her magic to grab several books and took them back to a table.

She began at the beginning. She found the book that went back the furthest and opened it to page one, her eyes scanning, absorbing information in the method she had perfected during the long nights of studying while at the academy. A bit near the bottom of the page about Equestria caught her eye.

Modern history as we know it began nearly two thousand years ago, when an unknown event triggered the immediate decline of the kingdom known as Equestria. Very little is known about Equestria, as no artifacts, ideals, or symbols survived the event, and the little that did gives no indication of how they lived, governed themselves, or went about their daily activities.

Twilight pulled herself from the book, alarm bells going off in her head. “Unknown event?” she asked herself. “What happened?” She went back to reading.

As with most kingdoms, Centuria was born from the fall of the one before it. Out of the aftermath of the decline of Equestria, a new, ideal empire was born, carried toward paradise in the hooves of the great King Ganymede.

She turned the page, glanced over the content, then flipped several more pages before slumping back. It wasn’t a history book; it was a gospel. All it did was recount apparent tales of King Ganymede’s supposed great feats of heroism, protecting Centuria from everything from dragons to pirates to minotaurs. Flipping through the rest of the book, it was clear that she wasn’t going to find the information she was looking for.

With a sigh, she set the book aside. Pulling from the pile she had gathered, she found that the next book was almost the same as the first; no real information, just stories about Ganymede that were so outlandish, Twilight couldn’t bring herself to read more than a few.

It was the same with the next book, and the next. Twilight was about to give up when the last book grabbed her attention. The binding was almost gone, the pages were ruffled and ripped, some even singed, and the title was barely legible. She wiped away a layer of dust to reveal solid block lettering that read The Machine War.

Twilight opened the book and saw that it was different. It spoke of a time when Ganymede ruled, but it didn’t focus on him. Instead, there was information about technological advances during his rule, devices and contraptions that were nowhere to be found in Druthi. Large portions of the book were illegible, and Twilight could only read snippets, like small snapshots of information.

As she ventured through the book, she found that entire sections were missing. She sighed; it looked like the book had been vandalised on purpose. Still, she decided to take it with her and, careful to make sure she was holding the book in her mouth and not her aura, she took it to the front desk.

Kevrana was still fiddling with her contraption, but she put it away when she saw Twilight, walking up to join her.

“Excuse me,” Twilight said after spitting the book out onto the counter.

The elderly librarian snapped herself out of her state, sucking a long strand of drool back into her mouth.

“Yes?” she said, her voice small and frail. “What can I help you with, dearie?”

Twilight set the book on the counter. “I’d like to check this book out, please.”

“Of course, dearie,” the librarian said.

There was a long silence. The librarian’s eyes started to glaze over as she drifted away again. Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but Kevrana nudged her and nodded toward the door. Innate librarian instincts held Twilight in place at first, but as she looked across the counter and saw no ledger for book checkouts, then saw once again the state the library was in, she opted only for a sigh and left with Kevrana, setting the book on her back to carry.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Kevrana asked. The sun was almost touching the horizon now.

Twilight half-frowned. “Not really,” she said. “I was looking for history books, but all I found were stories worshipping King Ganymede’s apparent great feats.”

“I found the same when I first tried to learn about Centuria,” Kevrana said. “Most books are written by the church, and you will find little value in them.”

“Lemme guess,” Twilight said. “There’s a church that worships Ganymede as a god, and they control the output of literature and textbooks. Nothing is written that they don’t want written. Am I close?” Kevrana nodded, and Twilight cried out in frustration. “I just ended up two thousand years in the future! How is it that everything is so backwards?”

“It is just the way things are, Twilight,” Kevrana responded.

“Well maybe I don’t want things to be the way they are!” Twilight shouted. She could feel the weight of the day finally crashing down on her. “You know what? After careful consideration, I’ve decided that this is officially the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Everything I know is gone, and I don’t know if I can ever get it back. My friends, my home, my life, it’s all evaporated into thin air. And do you know what the worst part is? I can’t even remember how it happened! I can’t remember anything about whatever happened to me! Every time I try, my mind goes blank, like somepony reached into my head and yanked out my memory. And even if I do manage to somehow go back to my time, there’s no telling that whatever happened won’t just happen again! I have experience with time; whatever happened is going to happen regardless of what I do, so why even bother?” She sat down and fought back tears, the book on her back clattering to the ground. “I’m all alone. I’m never going home, I’m never going to see my friends again, and I don’t even get to know why.”

Twilight felt Kevrana approach, then drape her foreleg over her shoulder. Kevrana didn’t say anything, and Twilight didn’t want her to. She was too tired to shrug her off, so she allowed Kevrana to guide her, to lift her up and lead her through the streets while she wallowed in her own misery. Nothing around her registered and she didn’t know how long they walked for, but when they stopped, it was in front of what looked like an inn. Twilight looked up at the sign, which read The Drunken Uncle.

They went inside. The atmosphere inside was warm and jovial, but Twilight kept her tired eyes fixed on the floorboards, stifling a yawn. Her muscles were lax; she wobbled back and forth on unsteady limbs.

Kevrana got a room and led Twilight through the inn and up a set of shallow wooden stairs. Once they were in their room and the door was closed, Kevrana led Twilight to sit on one bed and sat down herself on the opposite one.

“I cannot pretend to know what it is you are going through, Twilight,” she said, “and I cannot deny that whatever has happened to you is truly awful.”

That certainly didn’t make Twilight feel any better.

“But,” Kevrana continued, “I can tell this: you are not alone. I am here to help you in whatever way I can, and I think I have an idea of how it can be done.”

Twilight didn’t look up. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“The Vale,” Kevrana responded.

“What?”

Kevrana nodded. “No unicorn has been seen outside the Vale since Ganymede. Centurians never go near it out of superstition, and there must be a reason. I have thought about it ever since I was a little filly: maybe that is where the unicorns are.”

Twilight thought about it. What other choice was there? If there were other unicorns, her best bet at finding out what happened to her would lie with them. Maybe they had kept records better than the Centurians. Even if she couldn’t go back, she could at least learn the truth.

And anything was better than wandering aimlessly.

She nodded. “Okay. But where do I start? Where is the Vale?”

Now Kevrana smiled. “That is where I come in. The Vale is far to the south, almost as far as the Guld fleet and its flagship. The Rach’thar will leave to return to Home in a few days, and you can be aboard.”

“Really?” Twilight didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” was all that came out, but it didn’t feel like enough.

“Do not thank me yet, Twilight,” Kevrana said. “It is a long trip, and you will have to work. Hadran will never allow you passage on the Rach’thar unless you make yourself useful.”

Twilight nodded again. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said.

“I am glad to hear it,” Kevrana responded. “Now, though, we should sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Twilight agreed and they lay down on their respective beds, the time-displaced mare’s brain embracing sleep the second her head hit the pillow.