//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Everfree's Gift // Story: Oathbound // by ChronicleStone //------------------------------// Zecora’s Hut, Everfree Forest April 16, 11:53 AM A steady triple-knock at her door drew her attention away from the pile of papers on her desk. She hadn’t necessarily been expecting any visitors (not that she ever really did), but the intrusion did not come as a surprise. She had known that somepony was coming: she just hadn’t known when. And from all indications, he had wasted little time in making the trip. She sauntered over to the door and pulled on its handle, causing it to open with a creak that was more welcoming than most sounds that were heard in the forest. And standing in the doorway, wearing a royal blue shoulder wrap, a pair of well-worn saddlebags, and that oh-so-charming smile, was a pegasus that she had come to know and love. “Heya, Zecora,” Sky said, flashing a toothy smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I got your letter yesterday, and I wanted to come as soon as I could.” “My good pegasus, you have made good time!” she began. “But you have not come simply to hear my rhyme.” Sky shook his head, but his smile did not fade. “Sadly not. I was rather hoping that you had something to show me.” “Indeed I do, but do you know what I think? After such a long flight, perhaps you would like a drink?” she offered, gesturing into her hut. Sky’s eyes seemed to drift, peering inside. He had visited Zecora a few times since that fateful day when he and Twilight defeated the Chimera at the Everfree Castle ruins, but they had only been quick stops to say hello. The last time he had truly been inside her home was during those few days she cared for the two of them after their Ponyville friends rescued them from the ruins. And while Sky didn’t necessarily show it, she could tell that the memory still haunted him. However, after an all-too-brief silence, he took a deep breath and calmly walked past her into the hut. “I had forgotten what it was like in here. It really hasn’t changed much since my last time here, has it?” A quick moment of quiet fell as she shut the door. As she turned to respond, Sky spoke up again. “Oh. You were working on something, weren’t you?” he asked, observing the various items strewn about her table. He held up a paper of some kind of drawing. “What is this?” Her eyes widened in surprise, but her smile was genuine. “My dear, brave pegasus, you could learn from a young filly! Have you never heard the Legend of the Everfree Lily?” A quizzical look came to Sky’s face as he nervously glanced around the room. “Um…no?” he offered as he let the paper fall back to the desk. She quickly glanced over towards a nearby counter, where there sat two jars, each filled with a sweet blend of nectars from deep within the Everfree Forest. After a moment’s consideration, though, she sauntered across the room and joined Sky beside her desk. In truth, it really was cluttered. She had been going through some of her records in hopes of piecing together an accurate picture of the elusive flower, and only now did she notice how messy the table had become. “I am sorry that my home appears this way,” she lamented, “but I was not exactly expecting anyone today!” But Sky merely shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh, I don’t mind a messy home. I won’t even try to describe how my home looks right now,” he added with a wink. Zecora nodded, shuffling through the papers on her desk until she found the one she was specifically after. It was a tan parchment, entirely blank save for one drawing: an outline sketch of what appeared to be a water lily, but the lines emanating from it seemed to indicate that it was more than what it appeared to be. “Is this it? The Everfree Lily, I mean?” Sky asked, looking intrigued. “It is a picture of one,” she responded, “without its regal glory. But as you seem unfamiliar with it, would you like to hear the story?” Sky raised his head, looking much like he did the first time they met, when he had obviously been surprised both by her being a zebra, and by her method of speaking. But it only took a moment for his eyes to focus on something beyond her. “I’d love to,” he said, though he remained transfixed on an object on the other side of the room. “But I think I’ll also take you up on that offer for a drink. Those pitchers over there?” he asked, gesturing toward the jars filled with nectar. “Indeed they are, and prepare for a treat! That drink is not too tart, nor too sweet.” “Thanks.” He trotted around her and pulled a jar from its shelf and poured some into a glass. “Now, what’s this legend?” She cleared her throat dramatically, as though she was about to reveal a powerful secret about a dangerous magic. However, it was merely a force of habit, as she did it whenever she told the story to the young fillies and colts of Ponyville, who would often beg her to recount some tale or legend to them, since, according to them, she was the best storyteller around. And so she began: “In the town of Ponyville, Every son and every daughter Knows the story of the magic bloom That rests upon the water. The stories say it does not grow By root or sprout or seed, But will only come to fullest bloom In times of greatest need.” “‘Greatest need’?” Sky interjected. “What’s that supposed to mean?” But she cast a glance in his direction that needed no words, and he quickly grew silent, hastily bringing his glass to his mouth for another drink. It was a comical display, but she wasn’t used to being interrupted. “Some say it is the embodiment Of the deepest purity of heart. Others say it is a monument Or a priceless work of art. Still others say it’s a warning That should be heeded lest you die. And even more claim that it’s a star That’s fallen from the sky. But only those that have seen it Can truly say they know. Some come away with lasting change, While others leave with sorrow. So if you come to see one Respond not with rage or strife For doing so will only bring Disaster to your life. Perhaps there is no secret magic Within this blessed flower Which simply will reveal itself Within one’s darkest hour. The coming of this mystic flower Is no cause for dismay. For just perhaps, in the darkest night It has come to light the way.” A short silence followed. Zecora looked again to Sky Streak, who sat attentively (if not a bit nervously) beside the mostly-empty pitcher. “Is that it?” he asked softly. With a nod, she folded the parchment of the drawing and gently placed it in a corner of the desk while she organized the rest of her papers. “Oh, well, that was…um…” Sky stammered, rising to his hooves and walking over to the desk. “It was, uh…” “Do not be embarrassed,” she comforted him, “for I think you will find that few ponies are comfortable with a legend of this kind.” “I wonder why,” he muttered and took a sip from his glass. “It’s enigmatic and…kinda foreboding.” He shuddered. “Anyways, I was rather hoping you had something else for me.” She knelt down and picked up a small vase, sealed with a cork, from underneath the desk and held it up where Sky could see it. “Indeed I do! If you seek to hide, then your greatest asset can be found inside.” Sky set down his glass and hastily made his way so Zecora’s side. “Is that so? Well, let’s see this stuff. My excitement’s been building for two weeks, and I don’t know how much longer I can wait!” With a pop, the cork came off the top as Zecora set the vase down on the desk. Sky leaned over, a distinct eagerness glistening in his eyes. But within moments, a cloud of disappointment crossed his face. “What is wrong, Sky Streak? Is this not what you seek?” “This is camoufly dust?” he replied, the skepticism in his voice matching the look of confusion on his face. Zecora nodded, and Sky looked again into the vase. “Well…I had imagined it looking…well, you know, kinda ‘magical.’ Sparkly, or hard to see, at least. But this,” he continued, tilting the vase so a small amount of its contents spilled onto his outstretched hoof, “looks more like ordinary dust.” Zecora smiled and placed her hoof on the small pile of dust and rubbed it around, spreading the dust over the whole of Sky’s hoof. “Ah, I am sorry that this is not what you expected, but its magical essence is not yet reflected. For I think you will find that to be properly used, a bit of your own magic must be infused,” she explained. “My own magic?” Sky echoed. “I thought this stuff was magical on its own.” “It is magical, that much is true,” Zecora confirmed, “but its fullest potential depends upon you.” Sky’s blank look persisted for a moment as he tried to piece together the puzzle that Zecora had presented to him. It was almost comical when his face changed into a look of sudden comprehension. “Oooohh, I get it!” he exclaimed, nodding in understanding. “It’s magical on its own, but it needs my magic added so I can control and direct it. Am I right?” She nodded and smiled approvingly. It was undeniable how much Sky had grown up since their first meeting, but more than anything, she was impressed by how perceptive he had become. “Indeed you are, and as long as I have your ear, would kindly gather your cloaks and bring them over here?” “Oh, sure,” Sky said, pulling a trio of folded gray cloths from his saddlebags. “I figured that if they’re going to be changing appearance, then it wouldn’t matter what color they were,” he said, gently placing them on the side of the desk. “Also, it was the cheapest color I could get. Hope that doesn’t matter.” “Color matters not,” she said, lifting one cloak and spreading it across the surface of the desk, “nor whether it is clean or dirty, so long as the cloth is both comfortable and sturdy.” “It’s both of those,” Sky assured her. “I figured they’d see plenty of use, so it should be something that shouldn’t chafe, but should hold up over time. This is the best thing I could find.” He grabbed the vase of dust and offered it to Zecora. “Need this yet?” In one fluid motion, she took the jar from Sky’s outstretched hoof and poured out a small amount of the dust over the cloak. The cascade of particles fell slowly, and as they passed through a sunbeam from a nearby window, she caught the brilliant rainbow of light reflecting from each one, as though the light from the sun was triggering their magical capabilities. Which, of course, it was. She set the vase off to the side and placed her front hooves on the cloak. Her breathing slowed and her eyelids fell as the world around suddenly dissolved into pure magical essence. All around her, everything radiated a distinct magical flavor: the forest, the ground, the creatures…even Sky Streak behind her. He was like a bright fair weather cloud: white and unassuming on the outside. He stood as a comforting presence that made it hard not to smile. But inside, he was full of an energy that could transform him into a raging storm. And yet, the storm was tucked deep within him, suppressed by another magic: a distinct magic that could only have come from one pony. A very special somepony. “Listen and watch closely, Sky,” she said slowly, “for it will fall to you to remember how to infuse the magic into the other two.” “Alright,” he replied as he came up on her right. “So first I sprinkle the dust onto the cloak.” He frowned slightly as the last few bits of dust came to rest on the cloth. “That’s not much dust there,” he commented. “Are you sure that’s going to be enough?” “If you use too much, you will surely pay the price. Use only a small amount, and that will suffice,” she advised him. “Now, come forward and place your hooves here and here,” she said, tapping her hooves near the edges of the cloak, “and we can complete the task of making this cloak able to disappear.” Sky obeyed, rising up on his hind legs and placing his forelegs on the cloak. Almost immediately, it began to glow, albeit dimly, in response. “Now, focus on your magic and this cloak in your mind,” Zecora continued, “then force the magic through your hooves for the two to be combined.” She looked on, curious to see if Sky understood her words, much less understood what to do. To her surprise, Sky closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath, just as she had done. His face contorted into a grimace of concentration as his wings started to glow and the silver streak in his mane shimmered. Then, in an unfamiliar display, the light progressed from his wings forward into his neck, then down his forelegs, all the way to his hooves. A brilliant blaze of color erupted from the cloak, drowning the hut’s naturally earthen tones in an intense blast of multicolored hues. Zecora stepped back in genuine surprise. Sky was the only pegasus she had ever encountered that possessed the ability to use magic. But somehow, he had managed to manipulate it as easily as though he had been working with it his whole life. “I must admit, I was merely watching to see if my words were understood, but you have gone beyond that and mastered your magic like a unicorn would!” she said in admiration. “I’ve had some good teachers,” came the cryptic reply from Sky, whose breathing had returned to normal, though his eyes remained closed. A small bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “The best, in fact.” She raised an eyebrow curiously. What kind of teacher did he have that would know how to help a pegasus master his unique ability to use magic? A sudden thought ran through her mind, stunning her for a moment. What if Sky wasn’t the only magic-using pegasus? She shook her mind free. As intriguing an idea as that was, even if it wasn’t actually the case, Sky was going to great lengths to conceal the truth, which meant that she shouldn’t try to pry him for any more information. “A good teacher they must be to teach you so much. And it seems to me that we are done with your disguise. Now, if you will think on your cloak and imagine my desk, you shall see what I mean when you open your eyes.” Sky’s left eyebrow twitched for a moment as Zecora watched in anticipation. Again, his breathing slowed as his focus shifted to his magic manipulation. Then, gradually, the radiance of the cloak faded as the natural brown colors of her hut returned. She smiled as the last of the light vanished. “Open your eyes, Sky Streak, for I believe you have succeeded. And as for me, my expectations you have far exceeded.” His eyelids rose slowly as he looked down to his cloak. The shocked look on his face almost caused Zecora to laugh. “Hey, where’d the—oh.” He reached down and pulled up an edge of the desk, which seemed to have melted into a soft, pliable substance. “I see. When I focused on the cloak and pictured the desk, the magic in the cloak caused the camoufly dust to change the cloak’s appearance to match the top of your desk.” He finished pulling the disguised cloak off the top of the desk, which had remained undisturbed the entire time. The cloak abruptly changed back into its original gray color as Sky’s face again flashed a look of concentration. “So, I can make it whatever color I want? Or any design?” “Objects or colors or awkward striations; its design is only limited by your imagination,” she answered. “Awesome,” he replied, folding the cloak between his hooves and placing it in his saddlebags. “Now I just gotta do that for the other two. Thanks so much for your help, Zecora! I can’t tell you what it means for me to actually have seen this work.” “It was certainly my pleasure to have been of aid to you,” she said, pouring herself a cup of the Everfree nectar. “I only hope that your comrades will find it useful, too.” Sky looked up abruptly from his saddlebags, looking somewhat startled. But it quickly faded with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m sure they will,” he conceded. He finished stuffing the cloak into his saddlebag. He hefted it over his back and stretched his wings as he made his way to the door. “I hate to come and go so quickly, but I need to make sure these other two cloaks get done soon. It was good seeing you, Zecora,” he said, reaching for the door. But she wasn’t about to let him go so easily. “A secret is a dangerous thing to keep from a friend, for it may come back to haunt you in the end,” she cautioned him. Sky’s leg remained stretched to the door, but his head fell as he sighed. Within him, Zecora could feel the storm churning as he struggled with some kind of internal conflict. “Secrets are secrets for a reason,” he replied softly. His eyes rose to meet hers, and she saw the pain and determination that accompanied those same secrets. “And that’s because if they weren’t kept secret, then it would cause more harm than if they were.” “But nopony is perfect, no matter how clever, and no secret is eternal or will last forever,” she countered. “And if that pain and sorrow you must still face, then what is the purpose of the secret in the first place?” Sky locked his eyes with hers. An eerie, uncomfortable silence swallowed all sounds. And all the while, Zecora felt the storm growing within Sky as he apparently grappled with his own demons. But when he finally spoke, it was as if he had come to some kind of resolution. “I wish they weren’t necessary at all, to be honest,” he said at last. “I hate the fact that the world is such that secrets exist. But they do. And unfortunately, they have to.” His face changed into a look of sympathy. “You don’t know how badly I want to tell you everything that I know, Zecora. You and all my friends. Having secrets doesn’t just hurt you; it hurts me, too. But the fact that those secrets could prove far more dangerous were they known forces me to keep them to myself. I do what I do because it’s right. I would never do something to bring pain to my friends unless I knew that doing so would prevent an even greater tragedy. I hope you understand.” Her heart suddenly panged with pity for the pegasus, and a small tremble passed through her body. She sat her glass back on the counter and sighed. She could take days guessing at the truth of Sky’s secret, but she didn’t need to. It was his secret to share, and she didn’t need to know the details to know that it weighed heavily upon his mind. “Wisdom and strength you have gained as you have grown older, and you will need both to bear the great burden you shoulder.” A tiny beam of sunlight suddenly passed through the forest’s canopy outside and entered the window of her hut, landing on a glittering object on Sky’s blue shoulder wrap. She flinched as it momentarily blinded her, but when the light faded within mere moments, she caught sight of the object: it was a beautiful brooch, with a setting of glistening green emeralds on bottom and clear, bright diamonds rising upwards. If she didn’t know better, she would have said that it was a representation of the Everfree Lily, but more than likely, it was just an ordinary pond lily. And beside it, in an equally stunning ornament, was the unmistakable mark of Princess Luna. She walked over to where Sky was still standing with his leg stretched to the door. “You owe me no explanation,” she continued, reaching out and lifting the flap of Sky’s wrap with the brooches on it, “for in the midst of many trials you are immersed. But I know that in your mind, the care for your friends will always come first.” A smile reluctantly rose to Sky’s face. “That’s the goal,” he said softly. “Thanks for understanding.” With that, he opened the door and walked outside. As soon as he was clear of the door, his wings burst into full spread, and Zecora could almost feel Sky’s relief as he did so. “I’ll try to visit again soon,” he said, turning his head just enough to see over his outstretched wings. “Thanks again for all the help.” And without another word, he took to the air, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. She stood silent for a few moments, staring into the forest. The pegasus was far away by now, but still she uttered a warning into the stillness of the Everfree Forest. “You may think your trial has passed, Sky Streak, but it may be just the first. For to prove that you are at your best, you must overcome the worst.” Alicorn Guard Headquarters, beneath Canterlot Palace April 16, 4:18 PM “Did he mention why he wanted to meet? ‘Cause I don’t remember him saying why.” “For once, Ace, you know just as much as I do.” Ace and Scope stood together within the mostly-empty main chamber of the Alicorn Guard headquarters. In one corner, Ghost was studiously pouring over maps and records of some sort, while the incessant (and increasingly frustrated) sounds of Hobo’s tinkering came from the laboratory. The occasional sound of a page turning floated from the library, where Cubic had retreated to work on her research…whatever that was. Scope’s ear twitched for a moment as he swung his head towards the entrance to the cavern. “He’s here,” he said simply. Sure enough, within moments, Blitz’s familiar form emerged in the doorway. He looked around for a moment, then smiled as he noticed his comrades in the center of the room. He sauntered over, somehow looking even more confident than usual. “Hello, gentlecolts,” he said, apparently trying to sound as suave as he could. “Glad to see you could make it.” Ace arched an eyebrow, but the playful grin on his face gave every indication that his curiosity was piqued. “Wow, Blitz, that must have been some date you just got back from. You look as confident and smooth as…well, as the complete opposite of Hobo.” Blitz snorted. “I didn’t have a date with Lily today, though I plan to see her later,” he explained. “I’m about to blow your minds with my ingenuity and brilliance.” Scope rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Youthful exuberance, and nothing more,” he commented. “You’ve been in the Guard for one year, and you think you’re going to show us something we haven’t seen before? Check your humility at the door, Blitz.” Ace looked disapprovingly at his partner, but remained silent. However, the pegasus remained undeterred. “Oh, trust me. If you had seen this before, there would be evidence of it around here. It’s too useful to be discarded.” Scope frowned, but something about Blitz’s magical essence intrigued him. Or…maybe it wasn’t Blitz at all. Maybe it was something in those saddlebags… “Well, I for one want to see what our little newbie has cooked up,” Ace said. “You sounded really excited when you contacted me, and that doesn’t seem to have worn off at all.” “Contacted us,” Scope corrected. “We all share that connection.” It was perhaps Ace’s most useful ability: a magical (some might call it psychic) connection with his teammates that allowed the three of them to engage in silent communication between themselves, even from great distances apart. It allowed the team to have unparalleled coordination on the field, but all too often, Scope found it to be little more than another way in which he could be exposed to the mindless chatter of his comrades. Blitz smiled broadly. “Well, if you’d be so kind as to follow me to the lab, then I’ll show you the newest innovation in field work.” “I like the buildup,” Ace replied. “Speak for yourself,” Scope retorted. Together, they walked to the lab, with Blitz leading the way. As they went, the sounds of the main chamber faded a bit, but Scope was still perfectly aware of them. As he was of most things. It was his claim to fame: his magic-enhanced senses and keen awareness were second to none. Celestia had recruited him years ago, and he was determined to prove that he had earned that right by being the best, regardless of what any other pony said…especially Tread. Friends though they were, they were also fierce rivals. Together, they could find anything and were virtually impossible to sneak up on. But neither were willing to concede that the other was any better than they were themselves. In front of him, Blitz was carrying on about how amazed they were going to be at what he had made, while Ace listened, smiling and nodding like an overexcited schoolcolt. He blocked out Blitz’s inane rambling and focused in on the softer sounds: Ghost, shuffling through his papers; Cubic, carefully placing another book back on the shelf and grabbing another; the rising tink tink of Hobo as he fought his apparently never-ending battle with the orb-launcher. He could feel the clopping of the hooves of the royal guards in the palace above him. Nothing escaped his notice. So it came as a mighty surprise when he bumped into the back of Ace, who had stopped abruptly while he had been focused on the sensations around him. “Hey, Scope, ever heard of a personal bubble?” Ace protested, looking back with an agitated demeanor. He straightened up and regained his composure. “A simple misstep,” he said, trying to appear unruffled as he came up on Ace’s side. “I’m sorry.” “Naw, it’s fine,” Ace said, reaching over and pressing his hoof against Scope’s cheek. “No worries.” “Good,” he said, removing Ace’s hoof. “If you’d like to keep it that way, I’d suggest you refrain from placing your hoof anywhere on me.” Ace’s eyes grew wide, but his smile persisted. “Yes, sir!” he teased. Scope would have rolled his eyes in exasperation if he hadn’t been scanning the lab. It was mostly empty, like the main hall, save for Hobo, looking (and sounding) fed up with his work on the orb launcher. Most of the tables were in good order, with phials cleaned and neatly placed along with larger bottles of strange fluids that refracted the light from the crystal walls into new and attractive hues. Blitz strode forward, placing himself into the center of the chamber. The combination of the array of colored lights and Blitz’s confident expression almost made him look as though he was the newest sensation at some kind of dance party. Which, Scope thought, would fit his outlandish behavior just perfectly. “Okay,” Blitz said with a wave of his hoof, “you have to close your eyes for this to work.” Ace frowned. “Dude, that’s a terrible way to start a magic trick.” “Just do it.” Ace sighed, but obeyed. Scope silently arched an eyebrow at the pegasus. “You too, Scope,” he urged. “And you think that my vision is the only sense I rely on?” he retorted. “Of course not,” Blitz said, looking somewhat offended. “But it should make this a bit more interesting. Just humor me.” “I usually am,” he said, reluctantly closing his eyes. As his eyelids shut, his other senses immediately worked to make up for his lack of vision. The first thing he noticed was the peculiar smell of Blitz’s breath. He had smelled it when Blitz first showed up, but now, with his senses on high alert, he could really focus in on it. It was…sweet. Powerfully sweet, like it was drawn straight from a ripe fruit, though what fruit produced that smell was outside of his experience. Within seconds, he heard the all-too-familiar sound of saddlebags hitting the floor. A short shuffling followed, which Scope could follow almost as perfectly as if he had been watching. Then, a quick flit of what could only have been a cut of fabric snapped through the air, creating a quick breeze that blew across his face. And then, almost too quick for him to perceive, the room changed. Well, not the room itself: the feeling inside the room. It wasn’t anything that any of his normal senses would have picked up on: it was a change of a different sort. Which meant that it was magic. He managed to keep from smirking. Beside him, Ace had taken a quick breath as the magic spell was cast. Of course he had felt it; he was a unicorn, and a uniquely gifted magic user, at that. And if Blitz had thought for one moment that he could fool either of them with some kind of magic spell, he was badly mistaken. “Alright, you can open them,” Blitz’s voice floated to him. “Just try not to be too surprised.” “Trying to use magic to confuse us isn’t going to work, Blitz,” Scope replied, opening his eyes. “No matter what the spell—” His words stopped abruptly as his vision returned. Blitz’s voice hadn’t moved during the entire time he had been in the lab, and yet, when he looked at where the pegasus should have been, he found himself staring at a blank space of floor. “Sorry, what? I didn’t quite catch the end of that,” Blitz replied, the smile in his voice all too obvious. His voice came from right where Blitz was supposed to have been. He could hear his breath from the same spot. And he could still smell the fruity scent on his breath. All indications were that he was standing where he had been the whole time. All indications except his eyes, of course. “Whoa, Blitz,” Ace replied, looking both confused and impressed. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that. Where’d you go?” But Scope had been using his magic long enough to have learned one important truth: of all the senses, the eyes are the easiest to fool. And when it comes to choosing what to trust, go with the majority. “He’s right in front of us, Ace,” he said simply. “Right where?” “Ace, how many times must I tell you? Don’t rely only on your eyes. Can’t you tell where he is with magic?” Ace’s horn dimly lit, and a wholly puzzled look came to his face. “Well, I mean, I can feel him right there,” he said, indicating the place previously occupied by their winged teammate, “but there’s no other proof.” “Wrong,” Scope said, shaking his head. “Your eyes are the only thing that would indicate that he’s not there. Everything else should tell you that he is.” He turned his attention back to the hidden pegasus. “I’ll admit, Blitz, that’s not half-bad. What did you pull out of your bags? A coat of some sort?” Suddenly, Blitz’s shaking head appeared through what looked like a hole in the fabric of reality. “Close,” he said. Almost immediately, a grey cloak appeared out of nowhere, obviously draped across Blitz’s body. “Guys, this is what I wanted to show you…or not, if you catch my drift,” he added with a smirk. “You mean…that made you invisible? How?” Ace asked, still looking bewildered. “Not invisible, just camouflaged,” Blitz corrected. “This cloak can change its appearance to blend in with its surroundings, making it appear as though its wearer isn’t there. I can control its appearance with my own magic, so I can blend into anything whenever I want.” “Impressive,” Scope replied. “Did Scope just give you a compliment?” Ace asked, looking even more flabbergasted. “That’s the surest indication of success in all Equestria!” “The best is yet to come,” Blitz said, digging through his saddlebags, which had been behind him. “I’ve got cloaks for you guys, as well, but they need to be attuned to your specific magic so you can use them.” Turning back around, he held up a pair of folded (yet slightly wrinkled) matching grey cloaks. “We can do that now, if you want.” “Blitz, I’d be interested to learn how you made that,” Scope admitted. “This is an innovation that’s been far too long in arriving.” “Hey, Hobo, did you see this? You gotta check this out!” Ace called to his fellow unicorn. “Later, Ace,” Hobo replied shortly. “No, seriously, this is amazing! You’ll get a kick out of this!” Hobo sighed, and his agitation passed almost palpably through the lab. “I’m just a bit busy,” he said, every word sounding as if it was said through clenched teeth. Ace pursed his lips, then shrugged indifferently, returning to his teammates. “Eh, he just needs to work through that. I’m sure he’ll love it…when he finally gets around to seeing it.” “It’s not a rush,” Blitz commented. “I doubt this will be going anywhere anytime soon.” “Except out on missions with us,” Ace replied. “Well, yeah.” “You’ll need to show us how to complete these other two before that happens,” Scope interjected. “So, if you would be so kind…” Blitz looked at him expectantly for a moment before his face morphed into a look of satisfaction. “With pleasure.”