For hours, Twilight had enjoyed Amissus's company in the Ponyville library. With Spike upstairs resting, they sat around the table that rested in the center of the library, snacking on apple slices and flipping through books that Twilight had pulled from the shelf for them. After a few of her old school books, she was shocked that he had no knowledge of Equestrian history or any idea of modern studies that Twilight fundamentally had from the lowest grades of magic school; but he could recollect myths and legends as if he had been there himself: The legend of Nightmare Moon to Star Swirl the Bearded to the Times of Discord. She couldn't understand this coincidence to be cultured without learning. Wanting to uncover the meaning of this, she questioned him. "Where did you hear these stories? How could you remember all of it without at least picking up a textbook along the way?"

"Textbook?" He asked her, saying the word as if he were hearing it for the first time.

"You know: a book for teaching in schools." She couldn't tell if he was teasing her ignorance of his life or…then she saw it in him…

Celestia…he's serious isn't he? She thought, stunned.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Twilight?"

She quickly straightened the questioning look of her face before saying, with a slight hesitation too late, "How old are you?"

He looked at himself, slowly, from his wings to his hooves, seeking the same question. "I'm…fairly young." He said, doubting himself but not second guessing. "But…I'm old?" He asked himself, but Twilight took it as a question for her.

"Young? You couldn't be older than Applejack's brother Macintosh."

"And how old is he?" He asked, still looking at himself.

"Let's say…he planted the tree that your apples came from." She had told him this information in place of the knowledge of Macintosh's actual age, to which she had no idea. Amissus stopped and looked over the apples that were on his plate and shook his head in disbelief. Twilight saw his head drenched in the shadow of the setting sun from the window: He was transfixed, staring at the analogy for his age, but the apples couldn't compare, could they? It was a strange thing to examine and notice the small things on a pony's face that gave away their thoughts; and certainly for Twilight, to know that even in the cloud of doubt and mystery that he walked through in his mind, that this stallion still had a spark of life in his eyes glowing, despite the shadow that choked it away from view. She knew that they both shared a common idea of adapting to a new place, adopting a new mindset, but she believed that he had to settle to a new time altogether as well.

"Amissus, could it be possible?" She asked, hoping that they were thinking the same thing.

"What be possible?" They weren't.

She took a breath in and out and in again to prepare to give her idea. "Could it be that you, being an alicorn, are really just from a different time?"

"Different time? Are you sure you're the queen's student?" He didn't know how to receive such a notion of his origin.

"It's princess, and yes I am, but-"

"Don't be ridiculous: This is real life, Twilight. If I were from a different time, then that's where I would be."

"It's just that you seem a little…" She trailed off, looking for the right word. He quickly started to fill in suggestions.

"I seem a little what? Aloof? Agitated? Aggressive? What?" He was becoming all three.

"Misplaced!" She found a word and threw it out to try to appease his anger.

"Misplaced? For my sake, Twilight, don't go off to some fantasy world and come back with illogical solutions! This isn't just one of your story books. A deity just doesn't accidentally drop a pony in the wrong time!"

"I'm trying my best to help you! Can't you just accept that instead of fighting me?!" She cried out, not wanting any more of his out-lash. He stopped speaking, now standing over the table. He blew out a heavy breath and turned away from the crumbling unicorn. Twilight didn't know that he would turn on her so quickly, and she hadn't prepared for such unkindness.

He really must be from a different time. Nopony would talk to anypony else like he did to me.

She was still shaking from his abuse, and he was shaking as well: He was shaking violently and soon collapsed on the floor. Twilight sat there for a moment because of a little voice inside that told her to stay away. It was quickly drowned out by her panic; she leaped up and went to his side.

"Amissus! What happened?! Say something, move!" His face had a grim tone that told Twilight that his fate would be the same if she didn't do something. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to get somepony to help. "Spike! Spike! Help!" She screamed for her assistant. The loft door soon slammed open as the dragon sped down the stairs.

"Twilight, what's wrong? Did he-" He cut himself off, staring at the body.

"Spike, get somepony -anypony- to get here. I don't know what happened and I'm too scared to do anything for him." With that, he darted out of the library and ran down the road in the settling night.

…

"Lord, your father wishes for you to meet with him." A voice distracted Amissus from his work. He had been, for months onward to a year now, attempting to learn from his father, the King, and his Court the ways of the kingdom. He was a young but mature pony with only the best lay before his future. Now he must set aside learning about civil duty to meet with his father. "Of course, Haste Word, I'll be there. Thank you." He told the servant, almost the same age as he but with a shallower nature.

He thought about what he didn't like about Haste Word as he neatened his desk. Haste Word was predictable and quiet, a perfect servant. He had come into servitude as an orphan from one of the smaller outlying kingdoms. The kingdom that he had resided in was so small and insignificant that even the towns in it align themselves more with the neighboring kingdoms rather that their own. Amissus let himself have the bother of speaking with the dull pony for one reason: to exercise his suspicion and tale-weaving. He enjoyed the stories that he wrapped around Haste Word that gave him at least some distinguishing trait. Maybe he was actually a spy from some far off land that had his mission even from before birth. Or perhaps his parents had fought and died in a war, and Haste Word was pushed out of his home, leaving him to wonder abroad, bringing him here. But Haste Word's parents were farmers who died from disease, he had become a ward of the state and Amissus's father received him as an offer after a visit to the kingdom out of simple formality.

He left his room and continued down the long stone corridor to the Meeting Hall. He knew that's where his father would be: His father seemed to never leave the Meeting Hall, not when such a kingdom, theirs, was threatened. He approached a set of large timber doors, having a guard at either side. "Prince…your father as well as the Court is waiting." One of the guards said, opening the door inward. Seeing through the spreading gap between the doors into the hall, he continued forward and under the archway. Mares and stallions alike stood discussing, rather loudly, towards to a greater unicorn, who had adorned upon his head a crown of silver and onyx stone, dressed in plain linin. It was he, the faltering, but never overwhelmed, King who was receiving the blunt of the banter in the room. Recognizing most of the Council, who had not bothered to look to him as he entered, he remained behind them as the door closed with a creak and clap of the bolt.

"Son…" A mare spoke to him. Looking to her, he asked "Where's your crown, mother?" She didn't answer his direct question; instead, the room started to fade as she said "Go on, go to them. They need you."

"Mother?" She was becoming nothing but dust in the darkness. "Mother! Mother!...Mother!..."

…

"Mother!"

He flung himself forward from laying down. A voice gasped and he heard clanging trays and shattering glass. He was speaking without words, just jumbled noises. He couldn't see and something was pushing him back down onto the bed. Being restrained only made him fear even more and he continued to rise despite the two ponies who were attempting to contain his urge to flee. It took another to get him back down and he was strapped down to the bed. Breathing heavily, Amissus's vision slowly came back and the fear subsided. He looked around, not much else to do while strapped down, and seeing blurred faces and other things rushing around and into the room to him. He felt cold, unfeeling instruments being placed on him.

I don't want to die…make it stop…let me free…

He thought this as well as trying to speak it, but it too came out as unintelligible mumblings. This thought ran through his head over and over until he was composed enough to awaken and take control of his mind and mouth. This perhaps took the evening or a few moments, time was obscured to him.

"Amissus…wake up." The voice was lulling. He wasn't sure if it was in his head or…

"Wake up, please." It was from the outside. If only he could find his way towards it through all the agitation in his way.

"C'mon, get up. Don't go back to sleep! Get up!" This new voice jarred him to consciousness and his eyesight slowly cleared and refocused on the faces looking at him. It was three of the six mares who had drug him to town. Twilight, Rainbow, and-

"Fluttershy, would you go tell the doctor he's waking up?"

"Okay Twilight." With that, one of the faces disappeared. He slowly lifted his head up and looked around the room. He was in a white room, with stone top counters and a single door directly in front of the bed. His straps were loosened, so he was able to worm his forelegs free and place them over his covers. He leaned forward more to an upright sitting position, breathing slowly and deeply, shuttering breaths came rapidly and without warning. One of the mares put a hoof on his shoulder, seemingly trying to sooth him, but moved it away as the door flung open.

The doctor, the same mare who had seen to him earlier, Dry Cough, started to pull her stethoscope to his chest. He flinched away, almost knocking it from her hoof. She stopped to stare at him for his irrational behavior, obviously disapproving. He allowed her to read his life through the metal disk.

"Now then…how are you feeling?" She asked him. He didn't answer; he didn't think he could answer. What did he feel and what would he tell the awaiting ponies? That he felt afraid? That he felt a weakness that had been hiding from him or angry that he was confused?

"I'm fine." He settled on. He had to keep himself hidden even from those who were hiding him.

"Alright then, I'll release you immediately." The doctor informed him before going back through the door.

"But how do you really feel, Amissus?" Twilight asked him. Rainbow also awaited an answer with equal interest.

"I'm…" He wanted to tell them, but he couldn't say it. There was nothing to say. He sighed and fell back down onto his pillow, watching the two mare's interest in an answer crumble.

"I'm gone." Twilight told Rainbow Dash. "Will you see to it that he finds a place for the night?"

"Yeah, I'll get on that Twilight." She told her. Twilight opened the door and held it open for Fluttershy, who was walking in. While the door was open, Amissus saw Dry Cough talking to another doctor. He didn't hear them, as Fluttershy and Rainbow talked over their conversation, but he did manage to catch the mouthing of two words: "Heard…nothing."