They were forced to waste an hour because Di refused to get her boots wet.
She was fine with tramping through field and forest in their pursuit of Captain Armor, she even tolerated sleeping in the grass and mud, but apparently risking ruining her magnificent boots by walking through a small stream was too much to ask.
One of their porters had threatened mutiny, another had quietly moaned beneath his load, and even she'd thought her old friend was being too careful, but Di had refused to back down, providing an impressive list of reasons regarding why crossing the river would be a bad idea. Eventually, repetition had won them over, and they'd begun trudging through the Midnightwood again, winding their way around the stream.
At last they passed its headwaters and turned east again, the Sun faintly bleeding orange behind them. They'd burned another day, still out of visual contact with the good captain, still without even the faintest idea of where in the wood he actually was.
Not your brightest idea, was this, Di? she caustically thought.
It should have been clear that it wasn't from the start, really; galloping off into what was soon to be a war zone with only five companions (Twist had turned back earlier, and Vinyl had refused to let her go alone) and trying to get close to said war in order to ape her old idol was a recipe for disaster, one only possible thanks to a generous helping of parental wealth and neglect. It was a miracle they'd gotten as far as they did, and an impossibility that they'd succeed: even if they managed to stumble into Captain Armor, the first thing he'd do would be ship them home, either that or lock them up. And if they stumbled into his enemies...
Do you have a death wish, Di? she mentally asked her eastward-glaring friend. Is that what this? Are you trying to die and you just don't want to go alone?
And if that was the case...
... would Silver Spoon still go with her?
Anxiously, she fished something out of her pocket, a present Di'd given her a long time ago, shortly after they'd met: a small coin, the star-over-sea of Manehattan carved in its golden face. Di's dad had picked it up during a business trip over there, part of a pair, and he'd given them to her as souvenirs. And Di, flush with her new friendship with her, had given her one, and a nickname:
"Daddy says we're two sides of the same coin," she'd beamed. "Now we can be two sides of two coins!"
They'd been the Two Sides ever since, the two coins a symbol of their bond. Whenever one of them (usually Di) needed a favor they'd flash their coin, putting the other under an obligation almost as heavy as a Pinkie Promise. Neither of them had ever betrayed an obligation the other's coin had imposed, not even when she'd been sorely tempted to during Di's disastrous run for class president back in third grade. The memory of what she'd almost done, of the bond she'd almost broken then, made the coin almost heat up in her hand, a token of faith burning the unfaithful.
She shook her head; they were both far beyond the little girls they'd been then, as far as Sunset-as far as Twilight was from the monster she'd turned into at the Friendship Games. Di had matured (somewhat), realizing that leadership wasn't about making others follow you so much as want to follow you, while she...
... she was still the tagalong trailing after her, her whole status derived from her friendship with Di.
She had other friends, of course (though the list was small), and her family's wealth and connections gave her at least some social weight, but there was nothing really defining about her herself. There was none of Di's drive, stubbornness, or charisma, Scootaloo's tenacity, pride, or athleticism, or even Zephyr's free-floating nature; all there was to her was her relationship with others, Di first among them.
The idealist, the pipsqueak with something to prove, the freeloader, she snorted as she returned the coin to her pocket, and nobody makes four. Quite the company you've managed to assemble, Di. The coroners'll have a field day trying to figure out what we were all doing together. A murder of crows screamed overhead. Assuming there's anything left of us to find, of course.
They pitched camp for the night in a small almost-clearing, Scootaloo quickly getting a nice fire going while Zephyr slowly set up the tents. Di, meanwhile, sat on a small rock near the fire and took out her notepad, scribbling furiously about all the nothing they'd done that day.
By the time Scootaloo managed to finish setting up the fire and making sure it wouldn't burn down the forest, Zephyr had only finished with one of the tents. She growled, stormed over, took the tent and its kit away from him, then quickly set it up herself, throwing the tools back at Zephyr with a snort of anger when she was done. His murmur of thanks went unheeded by her as she stormed back over to the fire and sat down beside it with a thud.
It had gone this way the whole trip, Di absorbing herself in her quest to be like her idol, Scootaloo handling most of the actual work setting up and taking down the campsite, Zephyr providing a meager amount of help and a healthy dose of excuses, and she herself simply standing there like an unused prop. The only changes had been Scootaloo losing her main helper and having to use Zephyr instead, a very bad change that threatened to cost them the only semi-competent member of their crew remaining, and Twist was no longer in charge of making the meals, primarily because she wasn't there anymore.
Thankfully, however incompetent Zephyr was at the rest of his work, he was a passable if not halfway-decent chef, easily proving himself able to cope with Di's unrealistic demands. While the rest of them understood that things like soft seltzer and poached eggs didn't grow in the wild and contented themselves with granola and water, Di's upbringing had shielded her from that reality, and Zephyr was proving himself able to continue to protect her from that knowledge.
While she ate her bowl of rocks (actually, the rocks would probably taste better), Silver curiously watched Zephyr work, obeying the instructions Di had given him with a soft smile on his face. He never complained while cooking, never hesitated like he did while putting up the tents; he behaved like a halfway-decent person while cooking, actually, a vast improvement over his usual attitude. Idly, as she ground up the gravel in her mouth finer, she wondered why. Usually, it took bribery or threats to get him to behave like that.
"Here you go, miss," he said as he brought the finished meal over to Di. "Poached eggs, seltzer water, and whole-wheat toast, just as ordered."
"Thank you, Zephyr," she replied, snapping her notebook shut. "That will be all."
He smiled at her as he nodded, then almost skipped over to his seat before taking up his own meal, munching at his bowl of rocks with small, delicate bites.
"So," Di said as she began tearing into her dinner with swift, surgical efficiency. "we should reach Hollow Shades tomorrow, or at least come close. My signal was pretty bad, but I still got a general location, and SnapGab hasn't said anything about Starlight moving. If we keep up the pace, we'll be able to find a safe spot to watch before Captain Armor arrives."
"It'll be safe until he finds us," Scootaloo snorted. "We're going into a war zone against the princess' orders, the least we'll be looking at is community service."
"We'll already be doing community service," Di replied. "The people deserve to know what's happening when it happens, and we'll be telling them that."
"'Rich kid risks friends' necks to play reporter,'" Scootaloo grumbled. "Film at 11."
Her hand was on her friend's hackles before they could rise. "Don't take the bait, Di," she murmured. "She's just trying to get a reaction out of you."
Di took a deep breath and gave a small nod, then said, "If any of you want to turn back, feel free. I'll get the people the truth alone if I need to."
Nobody moved, not even the would-be mutineer. After a few moments, Scootaloo snorted, then turned back to her rocks, unloading her frustration on their unbreakable surfaces.
Silver softly smiled at Di; she might have trouble picking companions, but those she did pick she made never want to leave. Whether she earned their loyalty like with her, managed to align their interests like with Scootaloo, or did whatever she did to convince Zephyr to come, she bound her teammates and coworkers to her with bonds stronger than steel. She was Sunset-
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"We can't risk letting her stay here, we don't know that she's really changed."
"But she fought the Sirens."
"They were threatening her hold over us, of course she fought them."
"What will it take to convince you that she's changed?"
"For her to choose her so-called friends over her social standing, to lose the game and not recover. If she doesn't play, I'll know she's changed."
"But is this the way to test her? She almost broke the school when she did this, Di."
A shrug. "Better a broken school than one under her heel."
-in more ways than one.
Do you realize that too, Di? she mused. Do you realize how similar you and her seem? And if you do, does that encourage or discourage you? Is that why you came out here? She's gaining glory in the capitol, so you have to gain glory in the field? Who drove you out here, Di: your dad, Sunset, Velvet? And did you come for them or to escape them? Are you answering a call or defying one? Are you out here to claim your destiny, or to avoid it?
Di sighed as she finished eating. "Dinner was delicious," she smiled. "Thank you, Zephyr."
"My pleasure," he smiled back, and seemed to be telling the truth.
Silver raised an eyebrow at him. While he was still incompetent, he was nowhere near as whiny now as he was at CHS. As a matter of fact, he seemed almost well-adjusted, complaining only when a normal person would have. Just what had Di said to him? Whatever it was, she hoped Di remembered it; anything that could convince Zephyr Breeze to behave decently was worthy of being recorded in the Royal Archives of Castellot.
Slowly, they finished off their rocks and water for the night, and began settling down to sleep. Scootaloo took first watch, as always, while Di laid down and went out like a light; she'd perfected the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere, shortly after they entered high school. Silver shortly followed her, putting her glasses in their case beside her pillow (Scootaloo called it a "luxury," she preferred the term "essential") before closing her eyes and falling asleep...
...before waking up again a few hours later, nature calling her and not leaving without an answer.
Sighing, she put on her glasses, left her sleeping bag, crawled out of the tent, and walked a short distance away from camp to pick up the phone. After answering the call (and informing nature, in no uncertain terms, not to call her again until it was morning), she returned to the campsite and prepared to go back into her tent, but paused; she heard something, a hum.
No, not just a hum; a faint singing.
Turning around in confusion, she quickly found the source; Zephyr, walking around on watch, a faint humming emerging from his throat. Curious, she edged closer, hoping to find out what he was singing.
... and showed he then the silver ring
unto the gold harp-bearing king,
who saw at once its make and mark
and to his promise swore to hark.
He rose up from his crystal throne
which, though winter, still like Sun- oh! Er, hi, Silver Spoon. Did you, er, need something?"
"No," she shook her head. "I was just wondering what you were singing. It was really nice."
"It's one of the few things I've ever managed to memorize," he softly smiled. "The Tale of Nightingale, an epic poem from Cloudsdale-my home region there, actually. It tells the story of Beald, a hero in the Cold Age, and his love for the Wood-Men princess Nightingale, and how they gathered a company of twelve to try to bring an end to the unnatural winter. The part where I cut off was the point where the last member of the company, the elven-king Fylakundu, recognized the ring he gave to Beald several years ago after he saved his life, and agreed to fulfill the promise he made when he gave it, to serve Beald in whatever capacity he needed. To be honest," he chuckled. "I've always had a bit of a soft spot for Fylakundu since I first heard the Tale. He was kind, generous, faithful, obedient, a great king, a magician, and even a good musician. When I was really young, I even told mother I wanted to grow up to be just like him."
"I can understand," she smiled back. "He sounds like a great guy. What happened to him?"
His face fell. "He died protecting Beald from the Wolf of Winter," he murmured. "Or so the story goes. That's all Fylakundu is, after all; just a story. Something told around the fire to entertain the children." He sighed, seeming to deflate in defeat. "All I wanted to be," he whispered, almost out of hearing. "was a story, something not real."
He looked back up at her, almost knocking her over with the sadness in his gaze. "Go back to sleep, Silver Spoon," he murmured. "I'll wake Miss Tiara up for the next watch later."
Hesitantly, though her heart was telling her to talk with him more, Silver obeyed, and climbed back into her sleeping bag, Zephyr's faint, sad song echoing in her ears.