//------------------------------// // 16 - Into the Woods // Story: An Extended Holiday // by Commander_Pensword //------------------------------// Extended Holiday Chapter 16: Into the Woods “So, let me get this straight, Sir. You can smell when the weather is going to turn?” Black Rook asked in disbelief as they trudged along the forest. The path, or what little remained of it, was bumpy and riddled with divots, brush, nettles, and other obstacles. The frozen ground made it even harder to navigate at times, but at least the snow drifts were no longer a concern. Taze had no choice but to ford a path through to the forest for their wagon and Rook to get by. “Yeah.” Taze shrugged. “It’s a trait I kind of picked up while fishing with my dad.” “How does that even work?” “It’s hard to explain.” Taze shrugged. “Certain changes in the atmosphere can be detected by scent.” “Okay, so what’s it supposed to smell like?” “When we all get settled in the Everfree, I’ll do my best to show you, okay?” “Not the words I would’ve picked, but I think I get what you mean.” Rook cracked his neck. “So, how far does the map say we have to go before we reach the castle?” “We have another few miles yet,” Taze said. “Good. That means we get to know each other better.” Rook smirked. “Okay, you answered my question. Time for you to ask me about something from my life.” “How’d you end up a guard?” Taze asked. “You ever run a farm before?” “No,” Taze admitted. “It’s hard work. Honest, good labor, but even if things turn out just right, they can still go bad when the bills come due. I’m what you might call the cushion for the family. When times get tough, the money I save goes toward keeping things afloat till next season.” “That's respectable,” Taze said. Rook nodded. “Don’t mean I don’t care. It’s just what helped push me over the edge to do it.” “So, you hit a noble for being an ass?” “No, I hit a fellow guard.” Rook smirked. “He just happened to be a noble before he enlisted.” “Meh. You stood up for yourself. There’s no shame in it.” “I kind of figured the same. I was taught to get straight to the point. Farmers can’t afford to cut around the bush unless we’re pruning.” “Fair enough,” Taze laughed. “So, they benched you for that?” “They made up a few other excuses.” He shrugged. “In the end, looks like I got the better deal.” “Yup, because you got the better brain cells.” “Or Faust decided to smile on me. Maybe Sleipnir, too. He is the god of war and battle, after all.” “Eh. God helps those who help themselves.” Rook cocked his head curiously. “Where’d you hear that?” “It’s a saying from back home,” Taze explained. “So you have a god of your own that you worship, too. I guess that makes sense. If we have our gods, you all must have yours, too. So, why don’t you tell me about your first big hunt?” Taze smirked. “Well then, there was this one time I….” Shawn hummed to himself as he wandered the grounds of Ponyville. After his usual stop at Sweet Apple Acres, he was left with nothing to do for the day. Thankfully, he carried funding on him, so a stop by the market was always available, especially given the rotating stock. Though most of the stalls were food based, he did come across several notable tradesponies, one of which appeared to specialize in metal. Most of it was scrap of some kind, but there were several ingots of different metals about the stand. After briefly thinking it over, Shawn walked to the stand and began looking over the ingots for anything worthwhile. Eventually, his eyes settled on a set of dark orange ingots, and after thinking over the fantasy metals he knew about, he waved over the one running the stand. As soon as he arrived, Shawn pointed towards the orange bars and asked, “Are these Orichalcum?” “You’ve got a good eye. Not many folks ’round here know about that metal. Comes from the far south,” the small steel-gray Unicorn said. “It’s hard to shape, but strong, and it doesn’t rust.” he noted. “Also has great enchanting properties.” “How much are you charging per ingot?” “Twenty-five bits. That’s the best I can offer.” After a brief moment, Shawn nodded. “Okay, I’ll take them.” “How many?” “Every ingot you’ve got of it.” The stallion burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s a good one, friend,” he said as he wiped a tear from his eye. “But seriously, how many do you want?” “How many do you have?” “I have sixteen in stock.” Shawn took hold of two of his pouches around and placed them on the table. “Like I said. All of them.” The Unicorn’s jaw dropped at the sight of all that gold in one place. “Where did you…?” Finally, the Pony shook his head. The where was not important. He knew that better than anyone. He levitated the coins with his horn and started counting the bits. “Did you want me to deliver them for you, Sir?” he asked, even as his eyes darted quickly over each new coin that he stacked. Shawn hummed as he took hold of one of the ingots and tested its weight. “They aren’t that heavy, so if you’ve got a durable bag large enough, I should be good.” “For you, Sir, anything.” A heavy sack levitated from behind his stall and into the human’s hands. “Just a few moments more, Sir. I just have to make sure we have exact change.” It didn’t take too long for him to finish, leaving sixteen glittering stacks of twenty-five bits each holding over a patch of his counter. He nodded and levitated the ingots into the bag for the human, then levitated the remaining bits from the pouches toward Shawn. “Here’s your change, Sir.” Shawn took the change and returned it to one of his pouches. Afterwards, he took hold of the sack of ingots and tested the weight once again before nodding and hefting it over his shoulder. “Is there anything else that I can do for you today, Sir?” the Unicorn asked eagerly. In the stalls nearby, Ponies had begun to stock wares of much higher quality, and their eyes seemed almost to glow with golden bits for pupils before they blinked. Then their eyes were normal again, though their manner was far more strident as they worked to hawk their wares while glancing toward the human between customers. “Perhaps. But, that’ll be for when I return. Need to hand these off first.” “If you need directions, I know a smithy nearby that would love to take you on as a client.” “Oh, no. I’ve got someone. Thanks, though.” The marketplace gaped at the human’s strength as he easily hefted the bag over his shoulder. They would have expected such strength from a Minotaur, but not from a being so much shorter and less muscled. Shawn whistled to himself as he turned and bade the trader farewell with a brief two-finger salute. That was quite the haul, and he was very much looking forward to experimenting with the new material. Matthew sighed as he looked over his stock of bolts. “I suppose I should see about getting something new. Taze isn't sure which of the old bolts had what on them when he treated them in the first place, and I don’t want to risk accidentally killing someone when I only want to slow them down.” “That is probably for the best.” Moonshade nodded. “You know a good place around here where I can buy some new weapons at a discount?” “This is more of a farmer town,” she pointed out. “Weapons aren't exactly a priority.” Matthew frowned. “That is a problem,” he admitted. “Maybe I can talk to Berry. If anyone might know where to look, it’s probably her, right?” “Maybe. It will be easier when the smiths are more set up and Canterlot can send us a fletcher.” “Well, I guess in the meantime, we might as well see what we can dig up.” Matthew stretched and slowly pulled on his winter gear. “Mutatio, Me-Me, we’ll need the two of you to stay here while we’re gone. It shouldn’t take us too long to find what we need to know.” Lastly, he reached into the chest and placed a number of bits into a sack. Mutatio nodded. “We will await your return. What will be your passcode this time?” Matthew smiled and rapped on the wooden floor, singing along. “Shave and a hair-cut. Two bits.” Mutatio cocked his head. “That is a … strange song.” Matthew chuckled. “Humans are a strange people sometimes. It isn’t always fun to make sense.” With that, he waved his farewell to both Changelings and strode out the door followed by Moonshade. It didn’t take them long to get down the stairs where Berry manned the counter as she always did. “Hey, Berry, I find myself in need of some bolts for my crossbow. Do you know anywhere that might sell those kinds of things around here?” Berry shrugged. “We don’t really have much of a need for weapons around these parts. Most of the creatures in the Everfree stay there. We’re not really sure why. I guess you could try some of the traders. Though after the snowfall, I’m not sure how many of their stalls will actually be open today.” “Where would I find them normally?” “They usually set up on the edge of town or in the square, depending on what Mayor Mare allows.” Matthew smiled. “Thanks, Berry. One last question before we go.” He fished out a couple of coins from his bag. “Got something that can help keep me warm while we’re walking out there?” Berry smirked as she eyed the human up and down. “I reckon I can think of something.” Matthew’s breath steamed in the air as he sighed in contentment before closing the flask Berry had provided for him. He’d promised to return it, and he had every intention of doing so, but he had to admit that these Pony enchantments really were something else to maintain the temperature so well. “Moonshade, thanks for coming with me. I may be a good shot, but when it comes to quality and types of crossbow ammunition, I’m not nearly so experienced. If there’s anything you can help teach me while we’re shopping, I’ll be happy to learn.” “We’ll have to see what's available first, and I'll see what I can point out.” Matthew nodded, then shuddered. He wasn’t sure whether it was a natural response to the cold or the sheer horror at the grins that all seemed to be directed toward him. “Please don’t tell me I just stepped into Stepford Wives,” he muttered to himself. The market was like the perfect storm. As they strode along the streets, Ponies practically vibrated as they gazed after them. Finally, the first of the stall workers broke with their cries, and the rest soon followed. The resulting cacophony was akin to an avalanche of sound as stall owners vied for Matthew’s attention with fervent zeal. “Is this normal behavior for these kinds of markets?” Matthew yelled. “No,” Moonshade replied. “Not unless they smell money!” “That’s a thing here?” “Not literally.” She snickered. “You do realize you’re talking to a human who never knew real magic until he fell into Equestria, right? For all I know, that actually could happen.” He sighed as they ducked behind the stalls and waited for the fervor to cool down. “I’m going to take a wild guess that Shawn must have been here, then.” “I suppose he must,” she agreed. “Give me a second to get my heart back under control, and then we can get back out there. There’s got to be someone willing to give us directions.” A few minutes later, the two were standing before a stall that had a butter-yellow Pegasus mare with a green mane for a proprietor. It had taken some convincing for the various traders to calm down, but the pair finally got the directions they needed to get what they were looking for. Sketches of various bows and arrows were proudly displayed, pinned against fluffy white clouds. “H-hello,” the mare greeted. “I’m Feather Flight. How can I help you today?” “I’m looking for some replacement crossbow bolts for this model here,” Matthew said as he produced the bow in question. “Would you happen to have any in stock?” Feather Flight peered over the bow carefully. “This is government issue,” she noted. “The guard doesn’t let go of these easily. Then again, I see you have a guardspony in your party.” She frowned and rubbed her chin in thought. “I don’t have many military-grade quarrels, but I might be able to give you the next best thing.” She rummaged around her stall for a time, then finally pulled a small box from one of the many clouds that adorned her stall and placed it on the counter before pulling it open. “These are Gryphon hunting bolts. Most use a unique kind of bow that is designed for strength and speed at a larger size, but their training bows produce arrows that are suitable for younger cubs. They should also work for your crossbow.” “May I?” Matthew asked as he gestured toward the box. “Certainly. Just one, please.” Matthew nodded and removed one of the arrows. First, he compared it to the groove to ensure the guide would fit. Then he tested the length against the cocking of the mechanism. Finally, he braced the arrow and locked it in place with the string to line up a proper shot. Feather Flight quickly produced a target and placed it for the human, who proceeded to aim and fire. The bow released with a loud thok, and the bolt whizzed through the air, striking just a hair’s breadth outside of the bullseye. Matthew whistled at the sight when Feather Flight carried the target back. “If you like them, I can also throw in a fletching kit to help you maintain them or refurbish any used ones that you purchase in the future,” the mare offered helpfully. Matthew nodded. “How many in a bushel and how much?” “These are more unique items, but since they’re refurbished, you can buy five bolts for five bits. The kit itself will cost you twenty bits.” Matthew nodded. “I’ll take twenty bolts, then, and the kit.” Feather Flight was as gentle as her name as she drew up the purchase and bundled Matthew’s package together. “I trust your friend can help you learn how to use the kit if you don’t already know. But if you have any problems or need some direction, I’ll be here for a few more days before I have to move on.” Matthew nodded as he handed her the coins. “Thank you for your help.” She smiled. “Any time.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She quickly swept behind her counter and emerged with a leather belt bound around two tube-like protrusions. “A crossbow isn’t any good without a quiver to help reload.” She passed them to Matthew. “Take it as a gift for your service.” Matthew blinked in surprise. “I, uh … thank you,” he finally managed to say. “You two take care now!” Feather Flight smiled and waved as she gathered her materials and bits and returned them to various hiding places among her stall. Matthew smiled as the two strode away together. “Well, that was a lot more productive than I thought it was going to be.” “Yes, well sometimes you find a break.” Moonshade laughed. “I guess karma wanted to be nice after all the yelling and screaming from the other stalls before,” Matthew agreed with a chuckle. As the two continued to walk, the light of the sun’s rays refracted off a display full of devices that Matthew had never expected to see in a medieval setting like this, and yet there they were. A brown Unicorn was busy servicing one of the devices, adjusting the lens and polishing its surface with a cloth. “Cameras,” Matthew breathed. “Unusual to find them being sold so openly,” Moon shade commented. “Are these common in Equestria?” “What exactly?” “Cameras. You said they aren’t usually sold so openly.” “Not these kinds,” she noted. “Most of the time, they’re larger and require proper training.” Matthew nodded and stroked his chin. “I’m a little low on bits now, but I think I might want to come back later to buy one. You never know when it might come in handy, and it’ll be good to have a visual record of our time here to bring home again.” “You know how to use one?” “Oh, yes. We’ve had cameras in our world for nearly two centuries.” “How far away are we?” “From Earth? Who knows?” He chuckled. “As for the difference in technology, I won’t know the equivalent until I actually look at the stock and compare. Even then, I can only assume yours must have at least some form of magical component to them. Ours are purely technological in nature, so it may not be a totally accurate comparison.” “I suppose.” “Don’t worry, I’ll still give it my best to compare,” he promised. “Who knows? If I buy one, maybe we can have a little fun afterward.” He smirked. “Tell me, Moonshade, have you ever heard of something called a selfie?” “You know, I’m not seeing the reason why everyone’s so terrified of this place,” Taze said as they walked along past gnarled and withered branches and trunks. “Reminds me of back home when we used to haul wood.” “Most Ponies fear it for its unpredictability. We like order and peace. The Everfree doesn’t. It’s the scar that mars Equestria.” “Do you guys tell the microbacteria in the soil when to undergo mitosis?” Taze asked. “Or tell the cells in plantlife what rate they propagate?” “The … what and the what?” Rook cocked his head in utter confusion as he scrunched his brow together. “Nature is a much more involved process than you realize.” Taze chuckled. “You’re not in control, even when you think you are.” “Pretty sure most magic folk wouldn’t agree with you,” Rook pointed out. “But, then again, that’s never stopped you before. Or so I’ve been told.” “Look, if you grow crops in a field for too long, it starts to give less food, right?” “Not for a long time. I don’t know what it was like for you on Earth, but we don’t have to rotate crops often here. Usually once a decade or so.” “Still, you know why?” “The land’s alive just like the rest of us. Sometimes, you’ve gotta give it a rest.” “Yes, because the soil’s full of tiny things you can’t see that give it the ability to help plants grow. Not everything is about magic.” “Are we talking bugs and worms or something else?” “Smaller,” Taze said. “Smaller than that?” “Yup. Too small to be seen with the naked eye.” “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to believe that until I see it,” Rook admitted. “I’ll check. Twilight sparkle probably has a microscope we can use somewhere.” “What’s a microscope?” “A device for looking at very very tiny objects.” “So, like a magnifying glass?” “Just more powerful.” Rook nodded. “All right. I’ll take you up on that sometime.” “Hey, it's always good to keep learning.” Taze chuckled. “To stop learning is to die.” “I thought dying was to die.” Taze raised an eyebrow. “Was that a joke?” Rook smirked as he picked up his pace. “You tell me.” Shawn hummed a tune to himself as he made his way over to the forge. Once he stepped inside, he was greeted to the sight of just Steel Weaver at work. “Storm on break?” “Aye,” Steel Weaver replied as he put down his current project. “What brings you by, lad?” Shawn smirked. “I bring gifts.” “Oh now?” Steel Weaver turned his attention fully over to Shawn. “It’s not even my birthday.” Shawn placed the sack of ingots on the nearby workbench and pulled out one of the bars. “Orichalcum, in particular.” Steel Weaver took one of the ingots and began inspecting it. “Aye, that certainly is. Difficult stuff to get at the capital, primarily because they kept saying it wasn’t economical, all because the equipment it’d make was out of their range and not shiny enough to keep their attention. How’d you get it?” “In the market. There’s plenty of tradesmen who look like they’re from out of the area. There’s still some other materials in stock, but these grabbed my attention.” “Figures they would,” the smith chuckled. “They’re great for heavy equipment in particular. How much were they?” “Around twenty-five an ingot.” Steel Weaver hummed as he thought it over. “Yeah, that seems about fair price. Actually, it’s near the lower end of it, so you got lucky there.” “Sounds like it was worth it, then.” Shawn gave a small smile. “Well, go ahead and use them for your own projects. Save a couple for me to look over, but you’re free to use most of it.” Steel Weaver looked questioningly at Shawn. “You sure, lad?” “Go for it,” Shawn waved dismissively as he turned to leave. “Have fun.” Steel Weaver grabbed a set of parchment and some sketching tools as ideas started forming for what to make with it as Shawn set off. It didn’t take long for him to arrive back at the market. As he strode along, one mare cried out, “Fresh warm blankets! Great for huddling up by the fire to ward off the cold, woven from the finest wool!” Shawn frowned as he thought back to Matthew and how he’d shivered during the snowball fights. Taze didn’t really have any winter gear either. None of them did. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to look for something more practical to help ward off the chill. A more thorough search yielded little results. Most stalls were selling armor, not winter gear. And even then, that armor was built for Ponies and Gryphons, not humans. This would need a custom order if he wanted to pull it off, and he knew of only one Pony who would be able to do the job right with quality service and a smile. The journey to Carousel Boutique was one filled with the laughter of foals as they dashed along the streets while Earth Ponies worked to help plow away the excess that had flooded the cobblestone square. Fortunately, while the snow was as tall as a Pony, humans could still traverse the drifts without so much difficulty. It took him a few minutes longer to reach the shop than he would have liked, but it wasn’t that much of an inconvenience as he finally reached the door, pulled it open, and entered. The bell tingled just as it had on TV. And as Shawn closed the door, he heard the familiar voice singing. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique. How may I help y—oh my, why if it isn’t Lord Shawn!” Rarity quickly bounced her wavy mane with the flick of a hoof, then lowered her forelegs in a bow. Her smile was wide and eager as she rose again. “What brings you to my humble shop today?” “Please, no need for formalities.” Shawn gave a smile. “I came by to commission you for something. Three things in particular.” “Something for your troops, then? Or is this something more personal?” Rarity asked as she levitated some measuring tape from a nearby shelf. “For Matthew, Taze, and myself. Winter cloaks to be precise. Though I can handle the cold just fine, I’m sure Matthew would appreciate some extra warmth.” “Does he get cold easily?” Rarity frowned. “The poor dear. I thought the shivering was because he hadn’t had enough coco to drink.” “Yeah. It’s why I thought it best to get some cloaks made, and I figured you were the best one for the job.” “I do still have your measurements on file,” she agreed. “Any other Pony you visit would have to measure you and get a proper fitting done after the fact, and that’s nothing to say of the cost for travel.” She tsked and shook her head. “You’ve definitely made the right choice.” She nodded forcefully. “I suppose I should begin with the more important questions,” she said as she levitated a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell over. “This could take a while, depending on your answers. If you’d like, we can discuss the commission over a pot of tea.” “That sounds delightful,” Shawn replied with a smile. She led him through the workspace to a small but tidy kitchen. A kettle sat steaming over an open flame, and under Rarity’s magic, a tea set was quickly arranged and set on the table near the breakfast nook, complete with cream, sugar, and honey. “Were you looking for something akin to a uniform or with more of a personal touch?” “For Taze and myself, personal should be fine. Matthew, however, I know would appreciate it if it were more akin to a uniform.” Rarity smiled. “Yes, I’ve noticed he tends to enjoy his role as a teacher.” She motioned toward the table. “Please, have a seat. I like to get a proper idea of who I’m working with to get that extra touch. Given how close you three are as friends, I think you’ll be the perfect person to give me what I need to know.” She giggled gleefully and pranced on her hooves. “I can hardly wait to get started!” Mutatio stared curiously at the small device. A crystal had been embedded into the camera’s surface to provide a source of both magic and of memory. A small lever not unlike the hammer of a pistol acted as the trigger for the device to function. “And this object can capture memories?” The Changeling cocked his head curiously as he gazed at the camera’s lens. “Not in the literal sense,” Matthew said. “More like replicate a moment in time and save it for you to look back on later. It’s similar to the paintings that you might have seen in Canterlot before you became independent, only more realistic. “And this captures memory, how?” “Like I said, it allows a person to look back on the moment the camera captures. Like this.” He raised the camera and pulled it back from the curious Changeling, then flicked the trigger. One flash of light from the crystal later, Matthew was presenting the slab at the back. An engraving had etched itself over the material portraying the Changeling gazing curiously at the pair. “Think of this like a preview of the actual picture. I’d have to get someone to look at the crystal and transfer the images that are stored there onto parchment or some other medium, but after that, I’ll have a picture of you that I can look at whenever I want.” “And this … excites you?” Matthew grinned. “Of course it does. I write journals, too, but having pictures to go with the stories help to make them more real for anyone who reads them, even the writer. Each picture I take will be attached to an important memory that I want to keep. That’s more precious than gold or silver to me. If you forget where you came from, how can you learn from the mistakes? And how can you reflect on the good times?” “We … do not usually require such things to remember. To a Changeling, one’s memory is all’s memory. We do not need to freeze a moment in time. The song is there for us all to share, and even if one of our number should die, the echoes of their song remain to offer knowledge, wisdom, experience, and important information. They will always be remembered. They will always exist, or at least a small part of them will. You … do not have this?” Matthew shook his head. “That’s why we have our photos and statues and grave markers. They tie us to our past, the good and the bad. Without them, it would be too easy for people to change or even try to erase that past. I don’t want to forget any of this, and I don’t want anyone to try to take this adventure from me either when we get home.” “When you return to your hive, your … family.” Matthew nodded. “Yes,” he said as he brushed the camera gently. “My family.” Even in another world, in a culture vastly different from their own, Matthew had found his own way to tie himself back to those he loved and strive to remember them. He strode to his desk and grabbed his k-bar, another emblem of memory, another tie. The pangs of homesickness struck mercilessly, and he could hear the scrabbling of hooves against the floor as Mutatio stepped back. “Sorry about that. I guess that emotion must be a little bitter for you.” He smiled weakly at the drone and the queen who lay nearby. “I’ll try to keep it in check.” He sighed and looked at the knife again. “Still, I can’t help but wonder what they’re up to right now….” “Don’t react now, but we’re being followed,” Taze said, not dropping his smirk or his laughter as he slowly reached down and unclipped his holster. “I’m not going to be much good in a fight if I’m stuck hitched to this thing,” Rook noted. “Then loosen your harness, but don’t take it off yet.” The dim glow of green eyes flickered dully beyond the scraggly arms of the brush. “I’ll need your help to do it if you don’t want them to see what we’re up to,” Rook murmured to his companion. Taze nodded as he dropped back a pace and carefully loosened the harness while making it look like he was checking it. Taze heard the snap just in time and brought the flintlock to bear. The retort echoed through the area as the ball tore into the pouncing wolf. Holstering the gun, he grabbed his blade and lashed out as another one came forward, the wood making up its being shearing under the blade’s momentum. However the wolf’s momentum carried, taking the sword with it and allowing its teeth to scrape his skin. Growling at the burning pain, Taze checked to make sure Rook was free as he retrieved the blade. Rook used the cart’s sturdy construction to his advantage, waiting until just the right moment for the timberwolves to crash into it as he escaped for maximum damage to the beasts. He then followed up by snorting and pawing at the earth before charging toward the next assailant in the pack. At the last moment, he turned to the rear and bucked as hard as his hooves would allow, ramming the metal of his horseshoes into the beat’s snout and knocking out its teeth before the shockwave sent branches flying back in splinters. Calmly, Rook drew his sword from its sheath and gazed grimly at the advancing eyes, even as he stomped what branches he could manage. Taze backed next to rook as he worked to carefully reload the flintlock as fast as he could. “This is gonna be tight.” “You have no idea.” Rook grunted as he parried one of the beast’s blows with his sword. “They’ll reform, too, unless we can scare them off.” Taze grabbed a scrap of wood and stuffed it in his bag. “So what do we do?” “I’m open to ideas,” Rook said as he bucked another wolf. “Some lightning would be nice.” “You see a horn on my forehead? Cause I don’t see one on yours,” Taze said as he decapitated another wolf. Finally finding a hatchet in his bag, he pulled it out for his other hand. “Then we’re going to have to break up as many as we can and run. If we destroy enough of them, we should get the opening we need to get out. Since I can’t hitch back up to the wagon, you’ll need to pull it. I’ll cover you. Four legs makes me faster, anyway.” Taze nodded as he brought the hatchet down before transitioning into a  swing with his sword. “Best idea we’ve got.” “If we can cross water, that would be best. You say you can smell rain. Can you smell a stream or a river?” “Not quite the same thing. Just get ready,” Taze said. Rook grit his teeth as claws raked across his armor and he struck a gash in the lower body of one of the wolves. His nostrils flared. “We’re going to have to move fast and hard,” he agreed. “If we can reach the castle, we might be safe. I doubt the princesses would have left it without wards.” Taze nodded, throwing back a couple more wolves before he grabbed the harness straps for the wagon and charged off. Rook didn’t shout a battle cry. That would have meant dropping his sword and his guard against a pack of very hungry and very fast timberwolves. Instead, the stallion remained true to his word. When he could, he sought to separate the heads from the bodies to try to confuse the creatures and render them less dangerous. The pack continued to race after them, howling all the while as the dark and withered trees seemed to warp into twisted smiling fiends. “Keep running!” Rook ordered. “We’re almost to the river!” He leaped onto the cart itself and stabbed one of the monsters in the eye. Taze fired another shot but didn’t check to see if it hit as he pulled the cart onward. A cold bitter wind cut through the air and stung at their faces like angry screams of demonic forces. Still, the pair pressed on. The thickening of the trunks around them helped to narrow the fields of attack for their pursuers, granting a brief reprieve in their mad dash toward the opening on the far end. “Let’s pray Faust lets us cross!” Rook shouted as they burst through. He leapt off the cart and kept pace next to Taze as his legs churned across the frozen ground. Once more, the wolves were howling and gaining ground. Some circled in an attempt to flank the pair, even as the familiar groaning crackle of ice pierced their ears. Fortunately for both human and Pony, the ice was thick enough to support their weight, despite their pounding steps and the cold trying to seize their lungs as they ran. When they managed to cross the river, Taze took the hatchet and hacked at the ice a few times behind them until he saw cracks beginning before they took off again. “Don’t stop,” Rook ordered. The two couldn’t afford to waste breath on long sentences and suggestions. “Bridge next. Won’t follow.” “Not stopping,” Taze replied in equally short breaths. The sound of ice breaking mingled with startled yipes, and a grim smile pulled across Taze’s face as the two continued to run. Red droplets stained fur and the ground as the pair continued to run. The snarls of the pack hounded them like vengeful ghosts, spurring them on. As the first of the beasts came into view on the rear, they reached the gorge and the rope bridge. “Move!” Rook bellowed. The pair pushed the last of their adrenaline into a sprint to haul across the bridge as fast as their legs could carry them. The ropes creaked. The planks bounced and swayed, sending rippling waves along both sides of the bridge as they raced across it like a mallet over a xylophone. Taze could have sworn he actually heard the sound of one, too as they finally crashed on the other side. Rook rounded to face the other side of the gorge, his sword at the ready to cut the ropes if necessary.  “Don’t need to do that,” Taze panted as he dropped the cart’s bars, hatchet in one hand, sword in the other. “If they come for us, we have the advantage.” “Kick them down the gorge before they can reform?” Rook guessed. “Let’s see if they can survive getting turned into splinters.” Rook grinned viciously. Matthew stood in front of Golden Oak library with camera in hand. Once more, his hands burned pink as the cold winter temperatures attacked his skin in an effort to render it as dry and brittle as a snowflake. A few good clicks caught the structure from multiple angles, and he couldn’t help but giggle, despite the cold. “A literal tree house. And it’s still alive.” “It’s a small marvel not seen often,” Moonshade said. “Living wood is something only very skilled Earth Ponies can create.” “Aren’t trees living wood by definition?” “Usually, trees die quickly when an axe or blade is taken to them. It takes a lot of skill to make an entire building out of a tree without killing it.” “And Twilight doesn’t have to prune the inside at all, does she?” “No. The Earth Pony magic keeps things relatively neat.” Matthew frowned. “That … actually makes me wonder one more thing.” “And what's that?” “Trees need their root systems to stay alive. But doesn’t the library have a basement? How does that work and not impact the tree’s roots?” “Spatial compression magic.” “Wouldn’t that kind of spell drain energy from Twilight, though?” “There are ways to get around that.” Moon River shrugged. “I’m not a unicorn.” Matthew smirked. “So, you’re telling me to go in there and ask Twilight for a lecture on how all that works while you’re still with me?” “Oh, no.” Moonshade smirked in turn. “I have other duties, and you’ll be safe in there.” “I suppose it’s better than being tackled by Lyra,” he agreed. “Speaking of which, is there a reason why we haven’t seen her so much lately? I thought she lived here in Ponyville.” “She does, but she has connections in Canterlot.” “I guess she’d have to if she was picked as a bridesmare for Cadance’s wedding,” he mused. He paused for a few seconds, then looked to Moonshade. “You … do know I was joking about asking Twilight for that lecture, right?” “Yup,” Moonshade said, opening the library door. “Twilight? Matthew was hoping you’d explain how the basement worked.” With that, she proceeded to shove the human inside and wait. “Twilight looked up from the table, where she’d been looking over a stack of new books, one of which hovered incredibly close to her muzzle. “Hmm? What?” She blinked a few times, then finally interpreted the guard’s words. “Oh, the dimensional compression?” She smiled. “Sure. I’ll be happy to teach you about that. It really is a fascinating subject.” Matthew sighed and strode toward the mare, even as she levitated another book from the history section of the shelves. Moonshade was nowhere to be seen. “You win this battle, Moonshade,” he muttered. “But the war has only just begun.” Rook dabbed at the claw marks over Taze’s arm with an alcohol-soaked cloth. “So, was that easier or harder than dealing with the Changelings?” he asked as he swept at the sap and splinters. “I mean, easier to track them while they’re moving, harder to predict them,” Taze said. “I guess that’s fair.” Rook nodded as he examined the cuts one more time, then broke out the bandages to start wrapping the wound. “So, will I ever play the piano again?” Taze asked. “You have all your fingers still, don’t you?” “Huh. Wow. That's amazing, considering I couldn't play it before.” Taze laughed. “Then you’ll play it poorly.” Rook smirked. “You know, you should try to get something sturdier than that leather. Those wolves nearly cut through it.” “I’ll look into studded leather later. Chain’s too clunky.” Rook nodded. “All right, let’s see if I cry like a foal or not.” He sat himself down and tossed the rag and alcohol toward Taze. “Maybe I’ll learn to play an instrument, too.” Taze chuckled as he soaked the rag and held it over one scratch mark. “Ready?” Rook took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. We have a castle to reach.” Taze nodded and began applying the alcohol-soaked rag to the wound. Shawn stretched as he exited Rarity’s shop. While he was happy for the conversation, the chairs weren’t exactly made for humans. And while Rarity was a kindly and, as her element indicated, generous host, she also had her own projects to attend to. He recognized the spark of fever that prefaced creativity. And who was he to deny her the chance to give it form? “Shawn?” Shawn turned with mild surprise to face a heavily bundled Matthew. His pink hands clung to what appeared to be a camera of some kind. One of the vendors had mentioned something about that when he was passing through the market….  Shawn smiled. “I see you’re out and about as well.” “Had to pick up some supplies earlier today. Since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I’d stop by and see how the boutique looks in real life.” “Speaking of the boutique, you should head inside. I ordered some winter cloaks for us, so you should get all the info squared away.” “Really?” Matthew gaped at his friend. “I … thank you,” he finally managed to say, even as his body began to shake again. “Get inside and warm up. Rarity will take good care of you. And I don’t think we want to test the physics of being frozen in a block of ice in this world, even if it is magical.” Matthew nodded. “W-will do,” he said as his body began to shake. Shawn chuckled as he turned to leave. There was still plenty to explore in terms of the market, and he had plenty of time to manage it. The vendors were more than happy to see his return. And as he strode past each, they worked stridently to gain his attention. Weapons, armor, exotic foods and ingredients, and more were thrust toward him as he walked past, heedless of the other customers that stood waiting. Shawn barely suppressed the frown that wanted to form as the racket continued. Instead, he allowed his face to settle into a bleak mask as he strode past. It was one thing to promise he would return to look at more wares. It was another to endure a gauntlet of voices squeezing him like a vice. Finally, he passed near the trading post’s entrance, where a wider stall displayed volume after volume of books and stacks of parchments, all bound and carefully organized with price tags and other markers to differentiate them. A familiar purple Unicorn peered between two such books that she held before her in her magical grip. “Finding new material for your library, Twilight?” Shawn asked as he drew near. “Yup,” Twilight said as she eyed the books. “It’s so hard to choose, though. Should I go with A Million Magical Ways to Cook or Design in Mind: A Treatise on Counter Curses in Architecture and their Applications in Combating Villains?” “Uhh,” Shawn hummed as he looked over the books in particular. “I mean, Counter Curses seems like it’d always be useful, you know what I mean?” “I agree on principle, but is it useful for Ponyville? I mean, it’s not very likely for us to run into some dramatic villain here. Not after what happened when we helped Princess Luna, anyway.” “Fair enough, but it wouldn’t hurt to always be prepared.” He shrugged. “Maybe I can see about adding it to my personal collection,” Twilight mused as she levitated the volume back toward the seller and pulled the former one toward her, then placed some bits on the surface for the stall’s owner to collect. “I’ve been meaning to build up on some new material lately. And what brings you here, Shawn?” she asked. “Just wandering about the market and checking what’s avail…able,” he trailed off as his eyes stopped on a unique leatherbound book. The curled scrawl was not the now-familiar characters of the Pony language, but something far older and much more unique. For instead of any language he had ever heard of to exist on Equis, this volume was written in Latin, a language heretofore unknown in all the records he had seen previously in the Canterlot Archives. And a language he had made sure to study in his free hours back on Earth. He took hold of the book and read over the title a few times to ensure he was reading it correctly. “That one is the cursed jewel of my collection,” the stall owner said with a smile. His coppery coat glinted dully under the overcast skies above. “As far as I’ve been able to tell, it’s one of a kind, but nopony has ever been able to read it or decipher its pages. I tried to bring it to the princesses in hopes that they might be able to assist me with determining its source, but I could never get an appointment.” “Praecantatio a e Orbis.” Shawn spoke the title. “Magic of the World.” The stallion raised a brow. “Legend says that there book’s been around for at least a millennium. It arrived in a blast of light. My grandfather managed to acquire it from its last owner as a bequest in a will. Spent the better part of eighty years trying to figure it out before he passed, and he was a trained linguist. Then again, I suppose if you can read it, it must come from wherever you hail from, stranger.” “I just don’t know how it could have.” He frowned as he looked it over once more before directing his attention to the stallion. “How much?” “Promise to translate it, and I’ll give it to you for free.” “I … think I can manage that,” Shawn replied as he reached to a pouch on his hip. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not paying for it,” he finished, pulling out a stack of bits and placing them before the stallion. The vendor gaped at the sight of the stacks, then looked up at Hammer Strike again. “You're giving me all of this?” “You mentioned that not only have you tried to get this translated, but even your grandfather spent eighty years at it.” Shawn gave a smile. “I wouldn’t feel right just taking it.” The stallion looked to the human, then to the coins, then back to the human again. “Only a noble would carry this much money without a care. And you’re not paying me to flaunt it either. You actually mean it.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Generosity is a rare trait to find these days, especially in a noble. Allow me to at least repay your kindness with an old family blessing.” He bowed his head low, touching the tip of his horn to the top of one of the stacks of coins. “May your generosity return to you a hundred fold.” Shawn gave a small smile. “I appreciate it. It’s a shame that such things are rare.” Twilight was practically salivating as she gazed at the book in Shawn’s hands. “A book of magic from another world….” “I sense you’re intrigued by this.” Shawn chuckled. “Shawn, I am literally the bearer of the element of magic. Magic has been the very core of my studies for pretty much my whole life. Of course I’m going to want to see what’s in the book.” “Well, after I read it over to a point, I may be able to translate it into a blank book. But we’ll see how things look after I determine if it’s good or not.” “You mean your cursed artifacts don’t give off malevolent auras?” “That, wh … What?” “That’s what you meant when you said determine if it’s good or not, right? Whether it was good magic or evil?” “Your cursed items just … give away that they’re cursed?” Shawn questioned. “Most of them, yes.” “What’s the point of them, then—?” Shawn stopped. “You know what? Nevermind. I mean more in the case of what the contents of the book are about.” “Isn’t knowledge supposed to be shared, though?” Twilight cocked her head in confusion. “I mean, war is bad, but we still teach our histories about it.” “In my opinion, while knowledge may always be good, it can also lead to wrong conclusions depending on what is revealed. Say, for example, a book about curses. Not about what they do, just a book on how to perform them. While it would be good to know what the curses can do, if it’s just on how to make them, it’s knowledge better left where it was, or at the very least, under higher clearance.” Twilight frowned. “Normally, I’d disagree, but the Cutie Mark Crusaders have shown us more than once what happens when fillies of a certain age aren’t supervised,” she admitted. “Will you even have time, though, with all the work you have to do with the guard recruits?” “Definitely. My chronic insomnia helps see to that.” Shawn sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m up an average nineteen to twenty hours a day.” “You know we do make potions for that, right?” “Yeah, I tried one in Canterlot once. Didn’t work.” Twilight frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Then again, maybe it has to do with your anatomy?” “Difference of chemicals, body weight, something along those lines, probably.” He shrugged. “In any case, I’m managing just fine.” “How is only a few hours’ worth of sleep fine?” “No idea. But, it’s been working so far. For all I know, the whole magic deal might be keeping me awake or something. There’s just too many unknown variables.” He shrugged once more. “In any case, here.” He pulled one of the sacks from his hip and handed it over to Twilight. “Have fun expanding your collection,” he remarked as he turned to leave. “I can’t take all of this. It’s your reward money,” Twilight insisted, even as Shawn continued to walk. “Shawn? Shawn!” Shawn just smiled and waved farewell behind him as he cradled his latest acquisition under one arm and strode away. The weather was still chilly as Matthew pulled open the door to his next stop, the famous Carousel Boutique. True to form, Rarity played the gracious host, being only too happy to greet a new customer. “I’m so glad you came by, Matthew. Lord Shawn and I were just talking about an order to fill for the three of you. Apparently, you need some custom winter clothing?” Matthew nodded. “Yeah. It was autumn back home when we first arrived in Canterlot. The winter … hasn’t been so kind.” Rarity finally noticed Matthew’s hands and gasped. “My goodness!” she exclaimed. “Why, you’re practically frozen.” In an instant, the mare was pushing and fussing over him like a mother hen as she shoved him deeper into her store until they reached a stone fireplace with crackling logs. “Now, you just sit down there by the fire and I’ll whip up a hot water bottle for those hands of yours. The rest of your winter gear might be able to wait, but you clearly need something for those hands before you leave again.” “I—” “Ah-ah-ah, no buts,” Rarity insisted. “It would be poor payment for me to let you suffer in the cold when you don’t have to. A whole ensemble takes time to produce, but mittens are another matter entirely.” She quickly levitated a chair over and nudged the human into it. “I just need to take a few measurements after we warm you up. Do you prefer tea or cocoa?” Matthew shuddered as the warmth of the fire stretched toward his hands and he leaned forward in turn. The room was cozy and comfortable to an extent, though Rarity’s unique tastes left much of the space with a more effeminate touch. “Whichever is easiest for you,” he replied. A subtle prickling stung at his fingers and palms as the warmth seeped into his limbs. A few moments later, Rarity returned with the promised bottle. “Thank you,” he said. “Any time, darling,” Rarity assured. “The only thing worse than a crime against fabulosity is depriving a Pony, … that is, a person of a basic need if you can afford to help. I’ll have that drink ready for you soon. Once we have you warmed up, we’ll get started on those mittens.” “Do you think we could maybe make it gloves instead?” Matthew asked tentatively. “Much of our work is done outdoors, and I prefer to be able to use all of my fingers.” “Mittens first, gloves with the main order,” Rarity assured him. Then she tapped her chin in thought. “You know, I’ve never had to make a set of fingered gloves before,” she mused. Then she smiled. “I’m looking forward to the challenge.” It didn’t take long for the kettle to warm, and soon the scent of mint and honey wafted under Matthew’s nostrils as Rarity levitated a tea tray into the room and laid it on a small stand to keep warm by the fire. Rarity then used her magic to levitate a large couch into the room and sat on it with a smile that was at once gentle and hungry. “Now, then, let’s get down to business. Lord Shawn told me you would prefer something with more of a military theme, but I’m not entirely certain what that constitutes to you specifically. Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself and what you might have in mind? I’ll make sure to draw some sketches, and we can fiddle around while I work on your mittens in the meantime.” “You can multitask like that?” Rarity gave her most winning smile as she tossed her mane. “Darling, in my line of work, multitasking is an absolute must.” A set of knitting needles and thread levitated from a back room in the shop portion of the house while a sketchpad, inkwell, and quill joined on an unoccupied portion of her couch to await her touch. “Now, then, let’s get to work, shall we?” Matthew chuckled as he cupped his teacup in his palms. “As long as we don’t have to go through a whole lecture on the intricacies of knitting and its innovations in fashion.” “Oh, dear,” Rarity giggled. “Been visiting with Twilight, have we?” Matthew smiled sheepishly. “It’s not that I don’t like her. She’s just very….” “She does that more often than you might think, darling. You just have to let her know and specify what you want. She’s doing better, but she does have a tendency to slip when someone talks about magical theory or some other aspect of Equestria she’s studied.” “I guess I should be grateful I’m not being hooked up to some device in her basement for testing.” “Please, she would never do something like that without your permission.” “The fact she might even consider it is still a little unsettling to me.” “Well, you are Unique in Equestria. It only makes sense she would want to gain more understanding about you. Why, if you wanted to change the subject, you could probably just talk with her about your culture at home. Twilight is always excited by new and unknown things.” Matthew smiled softly. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind next time.” “Any time, darling.” Rarity smiled as she levitated some measuring tape over. “Now, then, about those hands….” Shawn sighed to himself as he gave one last look over the market. He had grabbed everything of value he wanted to use, and everything he would need for the next week. As of now, it was simply just a last trip to see if there was anything noteworthy. Of all the stalls, one in particular stood out for the large tent that stood next to it. The stall itself seemed to serve more like a point of reference to draw customers in. There were no products to be seen on any shelves or pegs, but a series of colorful signs and cutouts shaped like creatures combined with the boisterous shouts of the vendor to catch the eye and the ear with curiosity. A white turban stood on top of his head, and his coat was a light sky blue. “Come one, come all for the great Azmodan’s exotic pets and familiars! From the common house cat to the fierce roc. If we don’t have it, we can capture it for you!” the stallion called in a Middle Eastern accent. Shawn hummed as he looked to the tent before curiosity won him over and he approached. “Ah, I see you are also a stranger in these lands. It is always a delight to welcome a fellow traveler into my humble shop,” the Pony greeted. “I have many a potential travel companion if that is preferable. Or perhaps a friend to keep around the house when you require companionship?” “Probably best for a mix between those, given my current situation,” Shawn replied with a shrug. “Then come in, stranger. Let us see if we can find a companion who is suitable to your needs.” The inside of the tent stretched upward so that even Shawn could stand erect. A number of cages and perches had been set up in various sections of the structure. And much like other buildings, it appeared to be larger on the inside. A two-headed dog barked at them as they walked past while a great hawk let out a screech from beneath its hood. Finally, a radiant warmth and increase in light drew his eye toward the cages and perches, where a proud bird with gold and red feathers stared intently from its perch. All other occupants of the space seemed to avoid its gaze. Shawn raised a brow as he noted the bird. And though it took him a moment, he was able to realize just what it was. “Now, this one is peculiar,” he remarked as he turned to take a closer look at the phoenix. The phoenix stared at him with a cold indifference that belied its hot nature. “As expected,” Shawn chuckled as he continued to look the phoenix over. Rather than outrage, the bird reacted with intrigue. Those who had dared to enter its domain before had all bowed their heads in respect or fled for fear of offending it when it screeched at them. This one showed neither fear nor reverence, only a bland curiosity. When the human still didn’t move, it pushed open the door to its cage and poked its head through the gap to get a better look at the strange creature. Shawn raised an arm for the phoenix to perch on, curious to see if it would. The phoenix cocked its head curiously, then flapped its wings briefly before hopping to the edge of the cage and taking a short flapping leap onto Shawn’s arm. As if some spell had been broken, the many beasts in the tent seemed to go into a frenzy at the sight. Some snarled or cried in rage and alarm. Others whimpered or hissed and retreated as far as their crates and cages would allow. The phoenix looked on almost smugly at the display and casually preened its feathers as the flaps at the entrance flew open to reveal a Gryphoness with a falcon’s head that had blue feathers and red fur along her body. A whip bounced gently at her waist beneath her wings, and thick leather gloves covered both hands. “Ornery old bird, that one,” she commented in a Phrench accent. “Doesn’t like anyone.” “Really now?” Shawn asked as he reached with his other hand to gently stroke the phoenix’s feathers. “Yup. Have to wear a glove just to feed the bastard without clawing at me,” she said, moving some fur on her arm to reveal scars. “Then that makes this quite strange.” He hummed as he looked at the phoenix once again. “Phoenixes are strange birds.” She shrugged. “Very selective, though never known one as … annoyed as him.” “How much is he?” Shawn asked. “Tell you what? For two-fifty, I’ll throw in a sack of feed,” she said. Shawn thought it over briefly before shrugging. “Sure,” he replied, reaching down to his waist to pull off one of the final sacks of bits and offering it over. “I’d count it out, but I think he’s comfortable.” He tilted his head briefly to the phoenix perched on his arm. “Yeah, I'm not gonna worry about it,” she said, throwing a sack of feed onto a nearby table as she stowed the bits. “There should be roughly three hundred in there. Would it be possible to get a perch and have it delivered to the Punch Bowl?” “I’ll get someone to drop it off later,” she said. “Sounds good,” Shawn replied as shifted his arm to have the phoenix move to his shoulder as he moved to exit the tent. As he made his way back to the tent, he hummed and glanced at the phoenix once more. “Let’s see what I can come up with for a name.” The phoenix cocked its head and went so far as to give a brief chirp of inquiry. “Renati,” Shawn spoke up. “Reborn.” The bird took some time as it contemplated the name and the explanation. It cocked its head left, then right, then left again. Finally, it fixed Shawn with its gaze and nodded. “Renati it is, then.” Shawn gave a brief chuckle. “Let’s get you to your new temporary residence….” The castle of the two sisters was a far cry from the glorious structure it once had been. Stone and mortar crumbled as wind whipped through the spires to cry mournfully as it passed over and into cracks like so many blowholes in a pipe. The region itself was startlingly bereft of anything that could even remotely be considered wildlife. Parapets stretched around the courtyard’s structure to afford a view of the forest and all that remained in the courtyard itself, an ideal location to trap enemy forces and rake them with arrows. A swift examination of the mechanism atop the portcullis revealed chains that were still strong and a locking mechanism that was still functional. It didn’t take long to release the grip and lower the barrier as they peered into the gorge and the dark forest beyond. Green lights hovered like fireflies in the far reaches, but no cry or sound could be heard from beyond. No crows cawed. No stray cats yowled. It was deserted and barren. The sun set slowly over the dark woods as cold winds blustered. There was no soft earth to dig stakes into, so Rook had to make do with what they had on hand to weigh down the tents and secure the structures against the cold. A few blows of flint showered sparks on tinder to nurse a gentle flame that they tended to with kindling and logs they’d brought along in their supplies. A couple of hours later, a makeshift vegetable soup spiced with salt and pepper helped to warm their bodies and loosen joints against the winter’s blast. ‘Well, you get some rest. I’m going to head out and take a look around,” Taze told Rook. “Are you kidding? I’m not going to bed till you’re back to take up watch. Speaking of which, wouldn’t it be wiser to wait till daybreak? Night’s going to fall soon.” “I’m just doing a quick walkthrough,” Taze said. “We need to fix this place up. So, the sooner we know what's up, the better. Besides, there might be hot springs. Who knows?” “Sir, you seem to get unusually chipper when on a mission. Assuming our rule for being blunt is still in place, are you an adrenaline junkie?” “No, I just enjoy the idea of adventure.” Taze smirked. Rook gazed at him suspiciously. “If you’re not back by midnight, I’m coming in after you.” “Fair enough,” Taze said, lighting a torch. Over the next hour, Taze made his way through the castle carefully. Along the way, he’d found some truly interesting sights, including a marvelous booby trap that seemed to shoot pillows at the would-be victim. It seemed at some point, someone had the castle set up with truly ridiculous traps and obstacles that led to some hilarious possibilities. However, things changed the deeper down he went as the atmosphere became more and more creepy Finally, he found something that gave a chill down his spine, two statues of pegasi weeping. He wasn’t sure why, but their presence felt strange and perverse. And unlike most of the statuary he’d seen, they seemed unaffected by time. He only went a bit deeper after that, constantly checking over his shoulder as he felt like something was following him. Finally he decided he’d gone far enough and turned to head back to meet up with Rook. When passing the statues, he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him. It seemed like one of the two had moved. But maybe that was just a trick of the torchlight. With the unnerving portion past, he swiftly navigated through the other traps to return to the courtyard and the waiting stallion and fire. Given the size of the structure, it was clear they were going to have to make multiple trips if they wanted to chart out the whole place. But that was something they could discuss for another time. Now, it was time to check in and get some rest. There would be more to do in the morning. Matthew sighed heavily as he dragged himself back to the Punch Bowl. There at the door, a familiar blue Thestral laid in wait with a wide smirk on her face. “Hello, Moonshade,” Matthew greeted dryly. “Enjoy your errand?” “Yes. It’s quite a nice day, isn’t it?” Moonshade asked. “Was a perfect day to see the smiths about some adjustments I needed while you were safely here.” “And by here, you mean at the library?” Matthew pointed out as he pulled the door open for her. “Had a nice visit to Rarity’s afterward. Nice mare, once you get to know her.” “Oh? How did that go?” she asked as they entered the taproom that functioned as a lobby. “Shawn reintroduced us, in a manner of speaking.” He raised his hands, which were decked in new mittens. “Insisted on making these for me, too.” “They seem like a smart addition for the time of year.” “I’m inclined to agree. And, in her words, not mine, very fashionable.” Moonshade checked the tavern quickly as they entered, and her eyes widened a little as her gaze fell on Shawn. A radiant bird perched on his shoulder as he sat drinking a cup of steaming cider with a stick of cinnamon in it. “Is that a phoenix?” “Yes, it is.” Shawn nodded. “His name’s Renati.” Matthew couldn’t help but smile as he gazed at the creature of myth. “How in the world did you manage to get a phoenix to adopt you?” “He just seemed to like me, so I bought him.” Shawn shrugged. “Is he even going to be able to come back with us?” “Phoenixes don’t just like anybody,” Moonshade commented as she drew closer. Renati eyed her with narrowed gaze and hopped onto Shawn’s other shoulder before looking between the other human and the Thestral. “He doesn’t seem to like strangers, does he?” Matthew asked. “Phoenixes are picky. They only ever pick special people.” “Consider me lucky, then.” Shawn chuckled. There was a loud sound like a gong as Berry accidentally dropped a pot lid. “Well, considering how you escaped your brush with death, I’m inclined to agree,” Matthew said. “That, I can agree with. In any case, he’ll be sticking around.” Matthew chuckled. “All right. Welcome to the family, then, Renati.” Renati let out a small chirp, then returned to his usual aloof demeanor. Matthew shrugged as he took a chair at the table. “So, what’s on the menu tonight?” he asked. And so the trio prepared for their meal.