Freebie Mondays: My Little Domerin – Episode 5: Act 1

I promised my twitch chat I would take Domerin, the grumpy elf main character from the Aruvalia Chronicles, and turn him into a pony if they helped me pay for my replacement computer. I never thought we’d reach that goal – but of course we did. Because my twitch chat continues to be the most generous community out there.

For more details on the project, check the intro. (There are pictures of my characters converted into ponies there as well.)

This story is meant to take place in the same world as “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic,” though it’s unlikely any of the characters from the show will appear in the story. I have attempted to adopt the style of storytelling used by the show (including an episodic format and a ‘season’ instead of chapters in a novel). And some of the ponies that appear were created by donators from my chat. VoDs of the writing sessions are available on my youtube channel!

I hope you enjoy this crazy, silly little romp!
. . .

Rupert was an odd entity. Domerin had trouble thinking of him as a pony, but that also made him feel both guilty and crude.

It was obvious Rupert was intelligent. He spoke with the same grace and mannerisms Domerin would have expected from any pony of humble origins and cultured upbringing. And it was also clear the robot could think for himself. He didn’t simply parrot ideas back to the people he spoke with. When Rainbow heart had tried to explain cheating, for example, it had been clear Rupert struggled to understand why he shouldn’t do something that was asked of him – as if he was still developing the sense of morality that most adults had developed by the time they reached Rupert’s size.

Still, the artificial pony moved oddly. There was something about his movements that was stilted, as if they didn’t quite flow in the way of a natural gait. Every now and then, when the robot shifted his weight from one hoof to another, an odd metallic clang would sound in his chest. It didn’t seem as if Rupert had any control over it, and he would pause each time as if he felt sheepish over the interruption.

But none of their hosts seemed remotely put off by Rupert or the sounds that issued from his torso while the group made their way back to the empty palace work room. In fact, the royal children all seemed perfectly at ease around Rupert, as if he was a long-time family friend.

It was that, more than anything, that set Domerin’s mind at ease. The royal children might be young, but it was also clear that all three of them were clever, intelligent and capable. If they treated this artificial pony like a living being – and more than that, like a friend – Domerin felt he could offer Rupert his trust, though it would take some time before he felt fully comfortable in the robot’s presence.

Once they were free of the tangle involving Peter Greenwood and the Funnel Cakes, the trip back to the palace was blessedly short and simple. The group formed a small circle in the center of the workroom, and Dormal cleared his throat.

“Here is where we must part ways, I’m afraid,” he admitted sheepishly. “The day is getting on, and Domerin said he would come back when the sun sets. Which means we need to set the three of you on your way before we inadvertently initiate a chance meeting.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me,” Domerin replied without hesitation. “The less we witness here, the better. Though I do wish you would tell me a little bit more about the task Rupert is supposed to complete for us. How can we make sure everything is properly arranged if we don’t know what we’re supposed to be looking for?”

“Rupert knows all about the time machine, don’t you, Rupert?” Silverbell replied. She offered the robot a charming smile.

Rupert bowed his head and pawed the ground with his right front hoof – just the way any embarrassed pony might. “I have had extensive training with the queen,” he admitted though he hesitated to turn his head in Domerin’s direction. “I am well-versed in all the machine’s functions and I have been briefed on what is required of me for this particular mission.”

Domerin wished the robot would have said something more specific – like, I’m supposed to adjust the flow valve or I need to calibrate the time algorithms – or whatever technical nonsense made sense for this situation. But he was forced to admit none of it would have meant anything to him. And besides, this might be another case of the less he knew the less he could mess up.

“Okay then,” he said after a moment of consideration. “We’re happy to have your help. Do you need anything?” he added. It might feel strange to treat this artificial pony like he would any living pony – but he was damn well going to do his best to do it anyway. Because if Rupert was a thinking and intelligent being, it shouldn’t matter what material he was made out of.

The robot looked surprised for a moment, though it was expressed more through a stutter in his movements than any shift in his face. It was as if he expected to be treated curtly or rudely by someone he had just met. But then he shook his head. “I need no specific set of tools to perform this task. It is my ability to perform a high number of calculations in a matter of seconds that will be required for success.”

Domerin nodded, then glanced back at the royal children. “I suppose this is farewell,” he said.

“For now,” Valerian agreed with a coy smile.

“It was lovely to interact with all of you,” Crescent interjected, smiling broadly. “And I’m eager to meet again. Though I suppose when we first do, you’ll all be too young to remember it.”

This drew a chuckle from all three of the royal children. Then they heard a sharp thud at the far end of the hallway, followed by several hooves striking the ground.

Dormal tensed, and his eyes shot toward the door. “Oh no,” he murmured. “We’ve miscalculated the time. Domerin is always so damn precise!”

Domerin arched an eyebrow at that but wisely chose not to interject.

“We have to go,” Silverbell said regretfully. “Who knows what will happen if we don’t intercept them. But Rupert knows the way.”

“Just make sure no one is around when you activate the remote,” Valerian concluded. Then all three of the royal children rushed from the room and hurried up the hall.

Domerin glanced around the empty workspace. It was still littered with unfinished projects, computer chips, small toolboxes and wires of all shapes and sizes. Part of him felt like they should get as far away from the palace as possible before using the remote, and part of him felt like this was their best possible escape point.

But instead of turning to his companions and suggesting they depart, he bent his knees, bowed his head and slunk toward the doorway through which the royal children had departed. He wasn’t bold enough to poke his head around the corner – not when he could hear a conversation taking place only a few feet beyond this space. But he did strain his ears to catch the words being spoken.

“How did it go?” his own voice demanded – and that sent an unexpected chill through his body.

“Well enough,” Dormal reported.

“There was a small delay,” Silverbell added, and Domerin noted that no one mentioned the Funnel Cakes by name – probably for the best.

“And what was it like to meet the younger versions of us?” Crescent’s cheerful voice reached his ears next. Domerin even though he detected a small hint of laughter.

There was a pause during which he assumed the royal children shared glances between themselves.

“It was interesting,” Valerian declared.

“Domerin was grumpy,” Dormal added, though the tone in which he spoke was difficult to read.

“Grumpy?” Domerin’s voice retorted with skepticism. “Or efficient?”

A small hint of a smirk danced across Domerin’s lips even as each of the royal children made a soft sound in the back of their throats.

“He was efficient,” Silverbell admitted. “Though we knew to expect that.”

“But he was also grumpy,” Dormal insisted and stamped a hoof against the floor. “He didn’t like having to deal with what he considered to be pointless drama.”

“He has other priorities,” the older Domerin reminded the royal children gruffly – and Domerin was tempted to peek around the corner so that he could see if they wore contrite looks on their faces.

Perhaps this older version of him hadn’t gone soft after all. Perhaps he still had just as much of an edge – he just didn’t need to wield it as often as his present incarnation.

“What are you doing?” Crescent’s soft his startled Domerin so badly, a sound almost escaped his throat. But instead of leaping into the hallway and revealing his eavesdropping, he slunk backward toward the center of the workroom.

“I was just listening,” he replied, though he felt a small twinge of guilt over breaking one of his own rules.

At any moment, these older versions of himself and his boyfriend could reveal something it was dangerous for them to know. And each second they lingered, the danger increased.

So he added, “We should go,” and turned to look at Rupert.

“There is a back exit through here,” Rupert replied, and his monotone voice softened so that it accurately simulated a whisper.

The three of them made their way to a wall panel that looked the same as all the ones surrounding it. Then Rupert tapped something with the tip of his hoof, and a hidden door slid aside.

Crescent ducked into the passage first, and Domerin followed in his wake. Rupert brought up the rear. He slid the panel closed with a rear foot, then activated twin beams of bright light that flowed from his eyes.

With this light to clear the way, the three of them hurried through the cramped tunnel and emerged beyond the city’s inner wall. From there, they hurried down a small slope, hugged the base of the rise, and slunk through a service alley to the edge of the city’s outer wall.

There, Rupert located another locked and hidden passage that carried them back to the forest where they first encountered Dormal.

Domerin paused for a moment to glance back at the city. Most of it was concealed by the high bulk of the stalwart wall – a wall that had been extended so that it loomed taller than in his native time. Even so, he could tell from the regular activity of passage through the gates and patrols on the wall that this was a city at peace. And not just a city at peace, a city of prosperity and joy. This was a place people wanted to come, a place people wanted to live. It wasn’t harried by enemies at the gates and it wasn’t in dire danger of destruction or collapse.

In fact, he got the impression the walls had been extended not to serve as greater protection – though making them higher would accomplish that – but instead as a sign that the city was growing and expanding. There even appeared to be small hamlets pressed up against the outside of each of the major gates – proof that Silvergarden’s population was expanding beyond the city’s ability to accommodate.

He closed his eyes and thought about the acrid smoke that clawed the sky in the wake of the attack against the fair Silvergarden in his time. With enough money, time and patience, the results of that attack could be reversed, and this newer incarnation of the city might be born.

But it seemed to him that this was a place without the scars of an attack or the resulting war to reclaim it – proof that his mission must, at some point, be a success.

That’s a dangerous line of thinking, he reminded himself. Because he couldn’t sit back on his hindquarters and expect victory to fall into his lap. He needed to work for it, to fight for it.

And that fight started now.

He turned his back on the city, and their small band trotted into the nearby forest until the tree line swallowed them. When they found a promising clearing, Domerin took a moment to survey their surroundings, then he motioned to Crescent who pulled the remote from its concealment.

When he activated it, a flat, thin circle appeared in midair. Its edges glowed and almost seemed to cleave the air warping it so that it shimmied and flickered.

In the center of the circle was a clear image of Rose’s tower workroom. And after only a moment of hesitation, Domerin passed through the portal with Crescent and Rupert flowing in his wake.

*   *   *

While the time machine was active and maintaining the magical barrier that kept its location from being altered by any significant changes, there were always dozens of different things to monitor. Rose drifted between them, narrowing her eyes to read the gauges built into the central portion of the machine before moving to the edge of the workroom to check on several of the vials and more volatile materials that helped her monitor the flow of magic through the space.

If she needed to explain to someone else how all of the baubles and devices set throughout the workroom contributed to the overall function of her device, she would have been at a loss. A short explanation would be too convoluted to convey anything, but a more detailed breakdown would require hundreds of pages and dozens of hours of demonstrations.

Most people would simply have to be content with the fact that it did work. And while it chugged and bubbled away at the task she built it for, the princess continued to circle the various monitoring stations, adjusting dials and tapping gauges to ensure smooth operations.

She would need to sleep at some point. And there were a few key things she could ask her guards to keep an eye on during those periods. But until then, she would remain steeped within the hum and buzz of the time machine’s operation, ensuring her dedicated protectors could return the moment they needed to.

The snap and crackle that indicated the return sequence startled Rose so badly, she nearly knocked one of her delicate liquid monitoring stands to the floor when she spun to focus on the forming portal. Her tail twitched, and she was forced to dance sideways before her next unexpected movement caused a minor disaster.

But this was too early! Domerin and Crescent had only been gone for two hours. While theoretically they could return at any point – even mere moments after they departed – Rose had carefully calibrated the machine to allow space in between activations based on the amount of time the traveler was gone.

That would ensure that no one ever met themself coming and going.

The portal vibrated as it formed, causing the floor to quake slightly beneath Rose’s hooves. Her jaw fell open when the same image of a green field appeared within its center, but she quickly snapped her mouth closed and darted backward to grant space to the new arrivals.

Domerin came through the portal first – no surprise there. Crescent followed hot on his heels and a third figure darted through the circle before it closed.

Rose was about to protest – she shouldn’t have to tell her most dedicated guardian and one of her most capable spies not to bring other ponies through time, as that would only compound their problems. But she stopped short when she noticed the metallic sheen of the new pony’s coat.

“What happened?” she demanded even as the portal closed and the main body of the machine whirred as it began to power down. “Have you fixed everything already?”

She hoped she didn’t sound disappointed. Having her kingdom back in top condition would have been beyond her wildest dreams after so short a time span. But this was hardly the test she had been hoping for putting her creation through its paces – and she didn’t think another opportunity to utilize it would arise any time soon.

“Unfortunately, your portal sent us to the wrong place,” Domerin declared. Then he paused for a moment, lifted his muzzle skyward and cleared his throat. “Or rather, the wrong time.” His eyes were gleaming when he turned them on her again. “We ended up in Aruvalia’s future, not its past.”

“But how?” Rose gasped. “My calculations were specific and complex. I tried to account for every possible variable-“

“You also said you sent us to the place we most needed to be,” Crescent interjected, his tone soothing. “And apparently, in that regard, the machine worked just fine.” He motioned to their new companion and added, “This is Rupert.”

“Rupert?” Rose replied, uncertain if the name was supposed to mean something.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” the artificial pony replied and dipped the front portion of his body in an elegant bow. “You already know me quite well in the time I come from, but I understand that this is actually our first encounter.”

“He’s a robot?” Rose demanded, turning an expectant glare on both Domerin and Crescent.

“I think he might prefer artificial pony,” Domerin admitted and cast a side-eyed glance toward Rupert, perhaps hoping for confirmation. But when Rupert didn’t react, Domerin added, “According to the people we met in the future, we need Rupert to help us calculate and adjust the machine in order to reach our actual intended destination. It was the opinion of the people we met that we won’t be able to succeed without his help.”

“The people you met?” Rose replied and arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to tell me who that might be?”

“It might be better if we don’t,” Crescent admitted. “The Domerins of both time periods are evidently convinced that any form of crossover knowledge might contaminate the timeline and cause our mission to fail.”

Rose smirked. That did sound exactly like the Domerin she knew. She intended to press, however, just enough to gain the knowledge she needed to recalibrate the device. But even as she opened her mouth to speak, a sharp bang issued from inside Rupert.

Rose hesitated and glanced between Domerin and Crescent. Neither of them reacted quite as severely to the sudden sound as she did, so she assumed they had at least passing familiarity with this phenomenon. After a moment, however, a second loud clang issued and a small door opened in the base of Rupert’s chest.

It seemed the central portion of his body might be hollow, or perhaps meant to carry something. But from out of the opening poured a small bundle of white fur and blue hair.

This time, Rose’s wasn’t the only jaw that flew open. Both Domerin and Crescent leapt backward and stared in fascinated horror as the small bundle – which resolved into a pony – pushed to her feet.

Bright purple eyes blinked, and the small head swooshed from side to side as the little pony unfurled her hair to get it out of her face. Then she grinned up at the princess as if nothing at all was amiss and said, “Hi! My name is Rainbow Heart!”

“Rainbow Heart!” Domerin cried in obvious alarm. “I thought we left you at Peter’s place!”

The young pony giggled in a way that suggested she had no idea she had just passed backward through time. “Rupert agreed to help me sneak into the palace. Prince Dormal sounded like he was having a bad day, and I wanted to help cheer him up.”

Horror flashed briefly across the Royal Guard captain’s face, but he erased it quickly. Domerin didn’t have a lot of experience working with children – he tended to work mostly with other guards and the Silvergarden police. But he knew enough about younger ponies to know that any fear he exhibited would likely be mirrored in her reaction.

“Rainbow Heart,” he said softly and with a fantastic amount of patience Rose was keenly aware he didn’t actually possess, “why didn’t you reveal yourself while we were talking with the prince and his siblings? They’ve already gone.”

“I couldn’t hear very well,” Rainbow Heart admitted, though her smile was undaunted by this setback. “But I heard the princess’s voice, and I thought she might appreciate the surprise. She was the one looking for Rupert, right?”

The young pony shifted her gaze from Domerin to Crescent then to Rose, who was so taken aback for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say.

But like Domerin, she was aware that young ponies needed a gentler touch, and the last thing she wanted to do was alarm the little one. “I’m very surprised,” she admitted. “But I wonder,” she added after a moment, choosing each of her words with care, “if you realize how far you’ve traveled to unveil this one.”

Rainbow Heart blinked. For a moment, her sunny disposition remained. Then she must have picked up on the tension between the adults in the room because she blinked three times in rapid succession and finally frowned.

“There’s no delicate way to say this,” Crescent admitted as he leaned down to put himself on the smaller pony’s eye level. “And you seem very clever, so I’m just going to say it. We’ve gone back in time.”

Rainbow Heart blinked again then grinned and chuckled, evidently certain Crescent had just tried to play a prank on her. But when none of the adults smiled, her good humor vanished and she looked in a panic toward Rupert.

“Do not be alarmed,” the artificial pony suggested in a surprisingly sympathetic monotone. “Though we have, indeed, passed backward in time, I am aware that the princess keeps her workroom shielded against time changes. So long as you stay within this space, you should be safe from any adjustments made to the timeline.”

“Safe from changes yes, but still displaced in time,” Rose protested. “We have to send her back,” she added with determination. “Her mother is going to be worried sick-“

“We can’t do that,” Domerin interjected in a tone that brooked no argument.

That caused Rose to glare. Did he know who was actually in charge here?

“We can’t,” Domerin insisted as he began to pace the small confines of the center of the room. “Every activation of this machine represents a risk, and we need to weigh all those risks carefully before we make use of the device. It’s entirely possible that focusing the device and Rupert’s efforts intentionally on the future might cause something to go wrong when we re-orient the device on the past. And for that matter, we don’t know how many more safe uses of this device we have left.”

“We can’t strand this girl in the past!” Rose protested. There had to be wretchedly horrid implications to living in a time before she was meant to be born. And besides, Rose didn’t think passing back into her regular time would revert aging. It was one of the variances that hadn’t seemed important to compensate for.

“We won’t if we can avoid it,” Domerin retorted and finally halted his pacing. “But our priority has to be fixing the Silvergarden situation. Even her future depends on that.” He jabbed a foreleg in Rainbow Heart’s direction.

Rose’s jaw fell open again, but she had to admit he had a point. She exhaled a long, hard sigh and turned somewhat forlornly to Crescent.

Surely he would act as the voice of reason.

But Crescent also sighed and shook his head. “Presumably we have to send Rupert back home at the end of all this,” he declared. “So it only makes sense that he would take Rainbow Heart back with him. And if we do our jobs right, before anyone even notices she’s gone.”

Rose snapped her mouth closed again.

She didn’t like this. In fact, she aggressively hated it. She wasn’t a mother but, if she was, and her children suddenly went missing, she would be a frantic mess.

But she was forgetting the time element; Crescent was right about that. Theoretically, they could send Rainbow Heart back to the day she left. Or at least the morning after, at which point hopefully Rupert and his living companions could explain the delay with some fanciful tale of a sleepover adventure.

“All right,” she relented and finally settled on her hindquarters in hopes it would help her relax. “We’ll have to keep her here in the tower though so she isn’t affected by any of the meddling we’re about to do. The protective barrier doesn’t extend very far beyond it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Domerin suggested. “I have an idea for how we can manage that aspect of this mission. It’s the next portion of the travel I’m worried about, especially since we didn’t end up where we expected the first time.”

“I can assist with that,” Rupert interjected and motioned toward his chest with one hoof.

“Then we’d better get started,” Rose replied grimly. “It sounds like I have a lot of adjustments to make, and we now have every reason not to delay.”

She had only been resting for a moment, but she pushed back to her feet with renewed determination. “Give us some space,” she suggested. “But also, you may as well take this opportunity to rest.”

It was impossible to tell when her intrepid time travelers might receive another.