Heart of Destruction Part 8

Part 8: Wherein Anon Does the Impossible
>After a long filly’s night out, Twilight finally gets home. It’s so late, it’s almost early morning. She unlocks the door to her home and cringes from a throbbing in her head. She assumes she just drank more than she thought. Not wanting to wake up Spike, she feels her way along the wall until she reaches the stairs to her loft. She climbs into bed and tries to fall asleep.
>Spike is snoring really loudly tonight. “I really need to get him his own bedroom,” she thinks to herself, “He should be old enough soon.” For tonight, however, she reaches out a hoof to his basket and nudges him.
> “Spike, wake up. You’re snoring.”
>Spike mutters something.
> “Spike, you’re snoring,” she repeats, nudging him again.
> “That’s not me,” he grumbles, “it must be you.”
>Wait, what?
>Twilight’s horn lights up, illuminating the room in a soft reddish glow. She and Spike stare at each other, a look of horror slowly drawing itself on their faces. Fearfully, Twilight looks down into the main room of the library to see the true source of the snoring. Sprawled in the middle of the room is Anonymous.
> “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!” she screams.
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Anon screams back.
>Spike adds his screams as well.
> “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
> “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
> “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOME!” screams Twilight, pulling the bedcovers over her chest.
“OH GOD I DON’T KNOW!”
> “WHY’RE WE ALL SHOUTING! IT’S THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING!”
> “LANGUAGE, SPIKE! AND YOU, GET OUT OF HERE!”
>You frantically run out the door and slam it behind you.
>A second later, you open the door again.
“Twilight, which way is Sweet Apple Acres?”
>She points a hoof.
“Thanks.”
>You run out again and don’t stop until you get back to your barn.

>You had some trouble falling asleep. The insanity of what had just happened left you on edge. It was nearly dawn when you finally did drift off, and it’s not until afternoon that you are awaken by a polite cough from Twilight Sparkle.
> “You snore very loudly, you know,” says Twilight as you stretch your arms and yawn. “Would you care to explain why you were in my house last night?”
“I haven’t the slightest clue,” you say, trying to smooth out your hair, “I fell asleep here, and woke up there. That’s all I know.”
> “Do you have a history of somnambulating?”
“No, never sleep-walked in my life.”
> “Hmmm,” Twilight rubs her chin with her hoof, “even if you did sleep-walk, that wouldn’t explain how you managed to get through a locked front door.” She pauses again.
> “Anonymous, are you absolutely certain humans can’t use magic? Because this looks like teleportation to me.”
“I told you, in my world, magic only exists in stories. We hear about witches and wizards and miracles and things of that nature, but those are just legends.”
> “Like unicorns and pegasi?” asks Twilight.
“What are you trying to say?”
> “From what you’ve told me, your world’s scientific revolution was fairly recent. You have a lot of history in which strange things could have existed, maybe even been witnessed, but were never fully documented. Suppose some humans are capable of using magic? It’d be rare, and with the nullification effects of other humans, difficult to manifest.”
“So any accounts of magic would never have been confirmed as anything other than rumor,” you finish for her, “I suppose if the ability to use magic is genetic, it could be passed from generation to generation while lying mostly dormant.” It finally dawns on you what she is saying. “Are you trying to tell me I’m a wizard?”
> “It could explain how you ended up in Equestria. Think about it. External sources of magic are nullified, so the source must be internal. You weren’t brought to Equestria, you came here yourself.”
“But how? I don’t know any magic?”
> “That’s easier to explain,” says Twilight, now in full lecture mode, “before unicorns learn to control their magic, it often manifests unconsciously. You had a desire to visit Equestria, and your unconscious mind made it happen.”
“But why now? If I had the ability to use magic all my life, why wasn’t I able to do anything until recently?”
> “Most beings in our world only manipulate magic. Unicorns and a few others are able to create magic, but most simply absorb use the magic already present around them. Humans are likely the same. The few who are capable of using magic only absorb a small amount that they don’t nullify. Back in your world, the meager amounts of magic meant it took a long time to build the energy necessary for a dimensional jump. Here, in our magic-rich world, you took only a week to absorb enough for teleportation. You’ll probably never be able to use magic on the scale of a unicorn, but with enough time you should consume enough to be able to get back to your home.”
“So, I just need to learn the correct spells, yeah?” you say, hopefully.
> “Easier said than done. I don’t know of any spells for crossing dimensions. I suppose I can try looking in the Canterlot archives, but spells of that power are carefully guarded. It’ll take time to find the right spell.”
>You pause for a moment to process all this new information. Something occurs to you. Unfortunately, it occurs to Twilight as well.
> “Anonymous, if it’s desire that causes you to teleport, why did you end up in my library?”
“…Books. I like books. I’m a bibliophile, you know.” Good save.
> “Oh, oh good,” says Twilight, “For second I thought… well, umm…”
“…oh, OH, no, no” you say, flustered, “definitely not, don’t be ridiculous. It wouldn’t be because of you.” Internally, you facepalm. Real smooth, asshole. “No offense.”
> “Of course not,” says Twilight, her face reddening, “I’m a pony, and you’re an ape. A mostly bald ape with tiny eyes.”
>Is that how she wants to play it?
“My eyes are normal sized,” you retort, “you’re the one who’s weird-looking. How can you be smart when your head is 90% eyeball?”
> “Yeah?” she says, trying not to grin, “well, at least my hair doesn’t look like a family of badgers have been living in it!” You try to smooth out your hair again.
“It’s better than looking like I brought a ruler to the barber shop.”
> “There is nothing wrong with having precision in your mane!” shouts Twilight. “And speaking of precision, you stumble around on those two legs of yours like a drunken idiot.”
“You have a fat ass!” you yell, trying not to laugh.
> “WHAT!?” Her face is really red now.
“You heard me.”
> “Well, I think we’ve established that we’re definitely not right for each other,” she says, calming down.
“Definitely. Different species, incapable of any physical contact, and we clearly find each other’s appearance abhorrent.”
> “Absolutely abhorrent.”
“Good.”
> “Good.”
>You both pause and stare at each other awkwardly.
“So, shall we pick this up tomorrow?”
> “Same time, same place,” says Twilight, turning to leave. As she exits the barn, she hears Anon mutter to himself.
“Damn she’s fucking adorable when she’s angry.”
>She giggles to herself. Apparently, Anon forgot ponies have better hearing than humans.