It had been ten minutes since my class had arrived at the Canterlot Royal Botanical Gardens, and I was already bored out of my skull. It was a beautiful, sunny day, not a gray cloud in sight that a weather pony didn't immediately zip up to kick back into fluffy, white submission. The sun was shining, the bees were buzzing, and my classmates... Well, they were also buzzing.
My friends were no help- they were galloping around joyously from flower to flower, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at every silly leaf and petal. I had been amused, briefly, by Peanut Brittle getting himself stuck in a magnolia tree and Miss Bluebottle having to fly up in a huff and yank him down by the tail, but that was over quickly and then it was back to bushes and grass, grass and bushes, the same old botanical blah blah blah.
Honestly, I appreciate plants as much as the next filly, because what else would we eat without plants? Gems, that's what, and I'm no dragon. I like having all my teeth. But a whole day at the Botanical Gardens? I'd actually have preferred our stuffy old classroom, and that's saying a whole lot. I guess I'm just not a very outdoorsy kind of pony. You'd understand this attitude if you met me, by the way- I'm an Earth Pony, but I'm not tough or strong, or any of that typical Earth Pony stuff. In fact, I'm small for my age and kind of chubby, and it's all I can do to stop my mom from making me wear orthopedic horseshoes. In short, I'm definitely not the athletic type. I prefer lunch to nature walks, and board games to botany.
Being the cool and rebellious type that I am, I had spotted my chance at a daring escape a few minutes after Peanut's unfortunate yet not unexpected mishap (Note: Peanut Brittle is the type of foal who, given the chance, would not only stick his hoof inside a beehive to grab some honey, but pick the largest hive because the bees in that one have more honey and "won't mind sharing as much". You see what I mean about him?). There was a hedge maze near to our group, and I made my escape when my friend Rosebud loudly pointed out a particularly vibrant daisy to the class, all of whom fell over themselves to get a look at it.
There were a lot of ponies wandering around the gardens- families and young couples, mostly, and another school field trip with younger foals than us, none of whom had their Cutie Marks yet. I, who had earned mine a week and a half ago, sneered at them. I managed to reach the maze and slip inside without anyone noticing I had gone. the hedges were high and dotted with roses, and I felt confident that I could pass the remaining two hours alone with a book and a snack and then meet up with my group before they left the garden. Adjusting my saddlebags, I trotted deeper into the maze, a confident bounce to my step and a satisfied smile on my face.
As the hedges rose on either side, the sun was cut off and shadows rose around me. Without the sun on my face, the air seemed chilly, and I shivered. I have a great memory, and a fair sense of direction, so I wasn't worried about getting lost, but something about this maze seemed out of place, even a little spooky. Maybe it was how unkempt the bushes were, compared to the immaculate lawns surrounding them. Then it struck me- I was the only pony in this maze. Despite how crowded the gardens were, I was alone in the tangled labyrinth.
My confidence faltered, and I began to re-think my clever plan. It was sorta dark in that maze, and there was always the possibility that I'd get lost, or lose track of time. I was about to turn back when I remembered how rapturously Rosebud and Miss Bluebottle had been waxing about the koi ponds and the water lilies, and I steeled myself for the charge. Faint heart never won fair lady, or whatever. My goal was a fair amount of peace and quiet, anyway.
Whoever the groundskeeper was for the rest of the gardens, they had obviously never set hoof in the maze any further than a meter or two. Apparently koi required too much attention, and the hedges had been left to fall into rack and ruin. The place was weedy, and the ground was treacherous with roots. Branches reached out to snag my saddlebags and tail, although I totally didn't squeak and jump the first time it happened. Not me. I kept going, looking for a bench or a table like the sort that dotted the well-kept lawns of the main gardens, although I was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that this area was unused for some reason. I turned yet another one of the endless corners, and got the shock of my life out of the blue.
Without warning, the narrow hedges opened up into a wild, untamed garden, bursting with life. It was laced with vines and sprinkled with wildflowers, like a gardener had gotten fed up with the neat, orderly lines of the garden and decided to go nuts all over this one tiny section. There were no low stone benches, as I had hoped for, but in the center was a trellis, wrapped almost entirely in tiny yellow roses on thorny vines. On that trellis was an unmistakable figure (even facing away from me), and I recognized her at once. My heart stopped beating for a moment.
It shouldn't have surprised me that much, considering we were in the Royal Botanical Gardens. But still, it's not every day you turn a corner and run smack-dab into Equestria's one and only Princess Luna.