Title: Wizard Anon in Equestria pt. 2 Author: Mistah_Kurtz Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/2HUwQAW0 First Edit: Tuesday 15th of October 2013 09:10:25 AM CDT Last Edit: Tuesday 15th of October 2013 09:10:25 AM CDT You are Anonymous, and you WERE a powerful and respected wizard. Now you're a fugitive, on the run from the White Council, stuck somewhere or somewhen in a portion of the Nevernever populated by small, talking, technicolor horses. And also your language is reversed.   Now you're following an orange horse lady with a cowboy hat who you're pretty sure is named Applejack (like the liquor, you guess) to go find another horse that can apparently also do magic. It had taken a tedius amount of time for you to communicate the nature of your predicament to Applejack, owing to the fact that, while your translation spell had been at least partially successful, it also reversed every word you spoke and heard, sometimes in unusual ways. By carefully talking backwards, and spending a long time mentally reinterpreting everything Applejack said, the two of you were able to come to some sort of foggy understanding.   She didn't know what you were, and questions about the Nevernever or Titania only drew blank stares. But magic was a familiar concept, at least, and while apparently she couldn't do any herself, she did know another like her that could. And so the two of you had set off, with the big red horse, Big Mac (like the hamburger?), in tow.   You were quite surprised when Applejack led you into a very human-looking town. The buildings and roads resembled nothing so much as a very rustic European village, except that everything was sized for the little horse creatures. Hinged doors, glass windows, chimneys puffing smoke...it was actually rather quaint. Didn't seem to be any others about, though.   Trotting through town, you notice several strange building among the many picturesque houses. One was shaped like a large carousel, rather gaudily decorated with streamers and gems. The second looked exactly like the gingerbread houses your grandmother used to make for Christmas. Though you couldn't tell at this distance, it wouldn't have surprised you in the least to find that it really was made of cake and candy. The third, which turns out to be your destination, is an enourmous tree, into which had been installed many windows, a door, and even a couple of balconies. It was exactly the sort of place you'd expect a Summer Courtier to live, probably grown from a sapling for just this purpose.   When Applejack lifts a front hoof to rap curtly on the door, you can't help but notice how similar the movement would be to a human knocking with a hand. Whatever these fairy-horse-creatures were, they were very much unlike the domesticated animals you knew from home. From within the tree-house (you supress a snicker) a feminine voice calls out, before the door swings open to reveal...another little horse-fairy.   This one was a deep shade of violet, and was rubbing her(?) forelegs against her(?) face in a way that reminded you of a human rubbing the sleep from her(?) eyes. The most notable thing about her -okay, this fey horse was probably female- was the single spiral horn rising up from her forehead. Almost like a... well, she was awfully small to be a unicorn, and didn't look too much like the one or two you'd met. But hey, if you WERE looking at some strange sort of unicorn, maybe there was a blushing virgin maiden about? You could only hope.   Applejack pushes her way past the purple equine, while Big Red...err, Big Mac assumes a vigilant posture beside the door. With both of them out of the way, the licac 'psuedocorn' (damn, you're clever!) is left staring straight at you. Her purple eyes widen, and she lets out a little squeak before shooting off like a bullet back into the topiary construction. "Kcajelppa, tahw eht yah si taht gniht?"   You hear Applejack's husky voice reply "Ha nod't yllaer wonk, thgiliwt. Em na gib cam dnuof ti tuo ni aht nrab. Ti sllac flessi a namuh, dna sa tseb I nac wollof, ti syas ti sdeen emos adnik pleh htiw cigam." It's awfully hard to parse, since everything sound backwards to you, but you can guess that they're talking about you, and Twilight, and help, and magic. "Ti dias ti deyrt at od emos cigam, dna neht sti sdrow tog deppilf."   Watching the entrance to the tree, you notice the purple horny-horse (snicker) peek her head out from beside the frame. Her mane is cut straight across the front, but hangs rather gracefully, in a style very reminicent of a human haircut. She even has the single sliver dyed hot pink, like so many teenagers you'd seen. Damn, were you that old already? Twenty-something, and already an out-of-touch geezer. Anon, you've gotta get it together, man, you can't be-   Right, there are things going on. Important, first-contact-with-fairy-horses kinda of things. You smile and slowly wave at the lavender horse-fairy, trying to look as harmless as possible. You guess it worked, because she steps into sight and extends one hoof towards the interior of the arboreal edifice.   It actually looks...really inviting, even if you'd have to stoop just to fit through the door. Looking at the cozy interior reminds you just how cold it is outside. If you were back in the mortal, you'd reckon it was just about November; in the Nevernever, somewhere between the Autumn and Winter Court's domains. Gratefully, you duck inside.   ---   The interior of the great tree is lined with shelves and shelves of books. Dusty tomes, bound in papyrus, cloth, and even...leahter? On the spines, you can make out numerous titles, embroidered in gold, silver, and crimson thread. "Eht Scisab fo Nrocinu Cigam". "Snoitaler Neewteb Noffirg dna Ynop." "A Srennigeb Ediug ot Ynopnon Pihstruoc". Wait, did that one say-   You're pulled back to the present by the poking and prodding of the little purple unicorn-thing. She's eying you up and down like some kind of science experiment. Wanting to dissuade any further violation of your personal space, you thrown on another smile and attempt to communicate. "I am...wizard. I do...magic...the magic go bad." Damn, talking backwards was harder that you'd thought. "I need...Twilight...to do magic...to fisks..." How the hell were you supposed to pronounce a backwards 'x' anyway? "To make magic...better."   Hardly eloquent, but you thought it got the point across. Applejack, leaning up against a bookshelf, looked almost...amused. Meanwhile, the lavender horse in front of you was practically...no, literally...bouncing up and down with obvious excitement. "I am Twilight!" Damn, she picked up on this whole reverse-language deal fast. "I can help with magic. You cast a nal...nalga....a word spell?"   You nod enthusiastically. Some wizards might have been surprised to discover that this small creature was apparently a master of magic, but you'd learnt better on your very first trip into the Nevernever. How did that line go again? 'Size matters not?' The elves you'd met had proven that maxim time and time over. So you supposed that it wasn't SO absurd that a little purple fairy unicorn was telling you, in backwards speech, that she could fix your miscast spell.   "Tsrif I deen ot nrecsid eht tcaxe erutan fo eht tnemtnahcne," you guessed that she was talking to herself, since you couldn't keep up and Applejack seemed to be snooring softly, her cowboy (cowhorse?) hat pulled low over her eyes. "Neht, fi I nac enimreted eht stnenopmoc..." You startle as Twilight's horn begins to glow with a fuschia light. Several hefty volumes suddenly lift from their shelves and float gracefully onto the table infront of her.   Well, this could mean one of two things. Either Twilight was showing off for you, wasting magical energy on such a simple task, or....she had enough power to throw it around so casually. Levitating one or two things was no problem, with enough careful attention, you could even do it with a carefully focused air evocation. But the way she lifted so many books at once was impressive.   Wanting to assist, you rummage about in your bag, coming up with another mockingbird feather. Never leave home without 'em! The small purple unicorn creature watches you cautiously as you pantomime placing the pinion in your mouth. Then, seizing an opportunity, you snatch up a quill pin sitting on the table before you, and using a blank page resting beside it, hastily sketch out the arcane runes necessary for the spell.   As you finish, you see Twilight's large lavender eyes widen in what you hope is understanding. Frantically, she shuffles through several more weighty tomes before making a triumphant gesture. Was there hope for you yet? Her single horn begins to glow, once again shedding a soft rose light. You feel a tingling warmth spread throughout your throat, extending up through your temples and ears. The strain in her face told you she was casting something, but she hadn't traced any sigils or spoken any incantation. This couldn't be an evoca- you feel your ears pop, as though you were stepping off an airplane, and the glow in Twilight's horn dies down. Pensively, you rub and flex your jaw.   "Well, how does that feel?"