It has been a few days since my last entry. I have been neglecting to write mostly due to the fact that I have felt that nothing noteworthy has happened aside from me lining my pockets as best I can. Each day has been relatively the same as the last: With me getting up early to finish my delivery route before the afternoon is over, traveling to Sweet Apple Acres to see if I could be of any use there, and finally resting at the boutique for the evening between calls for my help from Ms. Rarity. I am starting to wonder if she considers me a live-in assistant of some sort with how often she instructs me to hold something up for her, hold something down for her, requests my opinion on how something looks, or asks what she should add or if the colors clash too much: just countless questions that I struggle to answer. I have had a few other conversations, but most of them idle and not necessitating me recording them.

Meteorology Discovery: On the note of weather, I have come across something rather mind-boggling in this place. We all know that back on Terriel, our level within the atmosphere usually dictates the very minimal amount of weather changes we endure, and they are usually predicted using complicated algorithms and radar equipment that measures atmospheric water content. One might believe that with the lack of technology here, they simply must take up some quirky saying to remember common weather patterns that might occur: Such as fog in the morning means rain in the evening, etc. I have discovered that they actually have a calendar and a schedule in place for when the weather will change. Who predicts this? I have no idea just yet, but I do know that none of this happens without their assistance. The pegasus ponies seem to have the natural ability (and duty) to manipulate the weather here in Equestria. I actually learned this directly from Rainbow Dash when I was standing beneath her home (that is somehow suspended high above the ground) shouting up to try and get her to come retrieve a package. She is indeed one of these 'Weather Ponies', and it is her profession, when she is not preoccupied with trying to become a superhero of some sort. The whole concept is absolutely absurd (as I told her), and one could not manipulate weather by their own whim. I had to retract my statement, however, when she demonstrated the technique for me by kicking a small cloud nearby to cause it to start leaking a drizzle. I cannot disbelieve what I saw for myself, but I also cannot begin to explain it. I was informed that not every location in this world is managed so closely, but I’m still shocked that they can dictate the weather at all.

Today's events prompted my writing because I have met someone very interesting (read: Annoying), as well as finally getting a chance to reach out to the individual who has been interested in speaking with me so badly. It began with Rarity requesting me to return a book to the library this morning, knowing well that it was my day off from work at the post office. I am never quite in a position to tell her no, so I took the book with me and kept myself entertained by glancing through it on my way to the library. It seems to be some sort of romance novel, as I could gather from reading the prologue and skimming over some of the pages. I would call the dialogue quite gushy (some corny or cheesy lines here and there), and the relationship being built appears extremely platonic. I know these stories are somewhat popular amongst groups of women back in Keycrescents, so perhaps this is just a factor that translates between cultures. I wonder if being rich, handsome, well-read, and hiring a musical accompaniment to stand behind you outside a servant girl's residence as you lyrically prattle off confessions of eternal and limitless affection really works? Guess I will never know for myself.

Heeding Rarity's request, my stop by the library began with me asking if Ms. Sparkle would take the book back, but I caught her as she was about to head out on an errand of some sort. She was kind enough to hand the book over to Spike so he could put it back where it belonged. From the dirty look he shot me when she asked him to do it, I know that he was upset by having to do anything for me that might be mistaken as a favor. Twilight informed me that she was headed to meet with someone named Zecora for a social visit over tea. "That sounds delightful," I mentioned offhandedly as I was ready to head over to Sweet Apple Acres to get in a few more hours of work – oh foolish me.

"Why don't you come with me, Benjamen? I've been really hoping for a chance to ask you some things! That is, if you're not too busy."

I had to mull it over, there in front of her, at the risk of leaving her feeling spurned once again by my refusal. My pockets were still uncomfortably light, but her charming smile and hope-filled eyes won me over as I nodded in agreement to follow alongside her during the trek. On our way, she asked me question after question: Never letting the peace of quiet invade her interrogation. I will note a few queries that I feel are interesting or relevant, but this is certainly not a comprehensive list.

"I remember you saying you were from a place called Keycrescents. Do you know where that is?"

"I do not, Ms. Sparkle, at least not in relation to Ponyville or Equestria. I should explain that I am from a place we call Terriel: A synthetic continent kept aloft in the sky through mechanical engineering. I am unsure of the specifics as I never planned to be one of the maintenance workers for those machines. Truthfully, most folks upon it have never stepped foot on the planet below."

"That sounds somewhat like Cloudsdale: A city erected in the clouds above Equestria. Are there many pegasus ponies back on Terriel too?"

"No, I am afraid that there are very few ponies at all. The closest things would be horses, which are beasts of burden that help on farmlands most commonly. There are also Equinyr, which are humanoids with horse-like features, but stand on two legs like I do: With erect spines. There are some other notable differences, but suffice it to say that they could be considered the midway between human and horse."

"Beasts of burden? You mean you enslave horses?"

This threw me for a bit of a loop when she first said it. "No! Well, you know what, let me give an example: Applejack owns a dog, doesn't she?"

"Winona, yeah."

"Is that dog her slave?"

"Of course not! She's her pet, and her friend."

"You could say the same thing about the horses on Terriel, but they are also given some tasks: Such as pulling plows and being mounts for folks to help out. Much like Winona, they cannot speak and do not communicate verbally. There are strict laws in place that forbid animal cruelty, mostly due to the very small number of them remaining." I did not bother to explain that this is because they had actually once been nearly extinct, and it took quite a bit of forced breeding and in vitro fertilization to stabilize their numbers (not to mention how expensive it was to equip an animal with a specialized CCM for the purpose of assisting their organs in acclimating to the atmosphere that high up). I get the sense that she was having trouble coping with my answer, even when I tried to stress to her how different her species was from those I was familiar with, but perhaps she is thinking that it is the same thing as enslaving a savage, barbaric human to do manual labor. Funny, since I'm doing manual labor for horses. I suppose the difference is that I get paid. Workhorses get paid in protection, food, and affection though. Could that be considered a kind of payment? I may have to mull this over on my own time later.

"Do you have a Princess back home too, Benjamen?"

"We usually elect our government by voting: Democracy is one concept those on Terriel like to believe they have. To be honest, it ends up being he or she who has the most money who will become ruler over the land until the next person reaches a higher bank account. Then they will try to “run against” the current ruling party, and the cycle begins anew."

This was another topic that she must have had difficulty trying to wrap her mind around, seeing as it was quite different from the monarchy/dictatorship/theocracy they have here in Equestria. I spent quite a while explaining what I meant about money being almost synonymous with political influence, and that rulers were only in power for short periods of time. (I believe the longest we have had a stable, single, elected official was a decade, before they happened to end up face-down in a boysenberry pie at dinner one evening due to cardiac arrest. There was quite a bit of hype that it was the “Poisonberry” pie that killed him. An autopsy helped settle the majority of the populace; however, many conspiracy theorists are still of the belief that he was assassinated by the ruler that followed. I’m sure a political history MIRRD somewhere could tell you more about Moifas Artural’s demise.) She asked me if I happened to believe that money was power as well. I informed her that I did not know.

Where I am now, I am beginning to question that idea, but it is something that has always seemed so natural and unanimously understood amongst my peers. I simply do not know.

Quite a bit of time had been spent on these inquiries when we finally came upon another large, hollow tree with windows upon it, much like the library that Twilight lives in. She confidently knocked on the closed entrance, to which a very surprising answer was received from beyond the door. It was another language, so I did not understand a word, but the voice seemed quite a bit older than I was expecting. Not elderly by any means, just simply more mature. The door was opened to reveal yet another pony (to no surprise), but this time with a striped pelt and many golden pieces of jewelry ornamenting her, including many bands of gold around her long neck. Her eyes were shaped differently: Much less rounded than the eyes of the ponies I had been seeing most often. I can assume this is because she is from another country or province of this world, which might explain the very peculiar (I would almost say tribal) decorations within her home in this hollowed-out tree.

"Twilight, my friend, I'm so glad you could come. The tea is just off the fire, you must try some."

Must be a coincidence, I thought. If you are wondering why I thought that, read the phrase she stated to us again a bit more carefully, and pay attention to the sentence endings.

This creature's eyes fell on me and I saw her gasp in surprise. "My purple friend from Canterlot, what in the world is this you've brought?" I was starting to question if this was still a coincidence, as that was the second time in a row she had successfully rhymed a sentence.

Twilight spoke on my behalf and explained to her that I was a human from far away, to which the creature (whom Twilight had mentioned was a zebra when she introduced her to me as Zecora) put aside her strange looks and smiled. "Benjamen, this meeting is all my pleasure, for you know they say friends, old and new, are both like treasure."

It could not be a coincidence, considering how much work it must have taken to convert a phrase that I am familiar with into a rhyme with the word "pleasure". She meant to say, "Make new friends, but keep the old; One is silver, the other's gold," but took extra effort to make it rhyme her own sentence. Perhaps this is customary among her people, but the idea of it made me furrow my brow in uncertainty. For some reason I had the feeling that it would get on my nerves very, very quickly.

As Twilight and Zecora began speaking, I silently accepted the cup of tea I was offered. I have no idea what was in it, and honestly didn't wish to know as I took the time to survey the room and examine all of the decorations around me. I'm sure it is merely a concept that I learned from being raised in a much different environment, but most of her belongings caused me a sensation of discomfort and anxiety. Things seemed somewhat dark, and I believe, made almost savage by her choice of using painted wooden masks as ornaments. I kept looking behind me just to make sure I was not being watched by them or that they were not going to move from the walls. Such would not be any stranger than some of the happenings I’ve endured recently.

"Human Benjamen, please come and sit with us for a spell. I happen to have a question for you as well." As much as the rhyming did cause my brow line to lower involuntarily, I heeded and took a seat near them. "You are from a far away land, I've been told. The journey here must have been long and bold. Please tell me how you came to tread on our world; I would love to hear your story unfurled."

Clever. I did, however, finally get the chance to do some explaining. I told them everything that had happened: How I was looking for my father on the planet below Terriel, that I had found the body of his adversary, and I recalled for them the library and what I had found in it. I also let them know about the rat, the parchment, and even tried my hardest to recite the words I had spoken the day I was transported here to them, but it is still knowledge that is lost to me. I seem to have found the correct individuals to tell this story to, as Twilight and Zecora seemed to both have some knowledge of the matter that I sorely lack.

"I think I have an idea of how you got here, Benjamen, but I'm unsure of how you accomplished it. Do you have a horn too, or some other sort of conduit for your magical abilities?"

"Magical abilities? Uhm, no I do not. Magic is nothing more than a storybook element or a myth back where I am from."

"So you tell me that your people have long lost their ability to believe? The loss of your magicians has left your kind bereaved?"

As the two of them ogled me like I was the strange one for not being accustomed to the use of magic, I believe something scratching away at my patience ultimately got the best of me. I barked out a rather blunt request at Zecora after her question. "Please stop rhyming at me. I know it's adorable, and witty, and a talent, but I really need some serious answers right now and your wordplay won't help."

"I'm doing what I can, there's no need to yelp,” She responded, a bit taken back by my frustration.

"Yes – well – that! What you just did there! I would appreciate it if you could refrain from rhyming for just a bit while we try to iron out some details on what happened to me."

"To answer your questions is our goal, I agree."

"Stop that! Seriously, don't start rhyming with my sentences too! It's really pissing me off, and it makes you just sound annoying."

"Calm yourself human, our bridges need no destroying."

I could not believe this! Incensed so much that I could not loosen my clenched fist from around my cup, I bit my lower lip to keep from saying anything I would regret. After perhaps half a minute of irritable silence, all I could say was: "Twilight's pelt is purple."

Zecora opened her mouth for a moment before slowly closing it to give me a terrible glower that I found morbid enjoyment in. Twilight was mortified by my cultural insensitivity, but I am afraid that I was far from being in the mood to continue being rhymed at as though my situation were some kind of joke. I wanted to know how I got here, and having someone speak to me as though I was reading a grade school storybook was the blow that broke my give-a-damn. I stood up, with new confidence from my victory, and brushed myself off as I slung my backpack over one shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am afraid that Ms. Rarity does have a project she's working on, and I think she could use my help. She was running low on cloth, but I can’t remember what color: Was it, orange?"

Zecora was not amused, only stared at me with a perturbed look scrunching her features. I had a feeling that if she were to say something, she would simply ask me, "Really?"

"Oh, that's right, it was silver."

Still she said nothing, and Twilight hid her face in her hooves, embarrassed, as I grinned in triumph. I questioned whether I should take one final blow or leave my victory complete where it was.

One more couldn't hurt: "I remain rather busy, but perhaps we can schedule another meeting Zecora. It was a pleasure meeting you. How about we try again sometime next month?"

On the walk back to the library, Twilight had a few choice things to call me for being so difficult and rude, but I get the feeling she'll laugh about this later. (I know I am currently.) I will see if she is feeling better tomorrow, since I agreed to come over to speak with her some more, and handed over the archaic little book I found under the pillow in the woman’s room back in the dilapidated library. Perhaps she might be able to decipher what it says. Maybe it has some clues as to what happened to me?

I myself will be keeping busy scrutinizing a very unsettling bit of postage I received. I found it nestled in my backpack by the time I made it back to the boutique at sundown. I am not sure how it got there, but it reads as follows:

"Human,

I have been keeping a record of your progress here in Ponyville for a while now. I know that you will be coming up on your first payday within the next week, which is something I have been waiting for out of fairness to you and your situation. Take that money and buy yourself new lodging. You've spent more than enough time in the boutique, and it's time you went about your business. If you do this, I can promise that you'll receive help in getting back to where you belong, as well as making ends meet here in Ponyville.

If you don't, then expect things to become rather complicated for you.

Don't worry for Miss Rarity; she will receive assistance without you. Someone will be able to handle the duties she has for you each day, and you will be much less of a problem if you stop living off of her generosity and get back to your own quest. She is well taken care of without your interloping.

Let us hope I won't need to write to you again.

- Dog-Ears Pink"

Only a week and a half here, and I'm already receiving death threats. How lucky can one guy be?