After digging through a mountain of paper and ink, Fluttershy finally found the head of the wizard.
“Radagast,” she said, gently stroking his long, grey hair with a hoof, “are you awake?”
With a jolt, the wizard bolted upright; paper sailed across the room. “Awake?! Awake! Awake the magic and—” but then he looked down at Fluttershy, who had sprang away. “Oh, it’s you, Fluttershy. I’m sorry to scare you. According to my rabbits, I seem to do that a lot after long and extensive midnight research. Excuse me.”
“It’s alright, Radagast,” Fluttershy said, feeling her heartbeat calm down. “Perhaps Twilight does that as well. Now that I think of it, I’m sure she does.”
Radagast chuckled. “Well, then I’m glad I’m not the only one in the multiverse.”
Now Fluttershy laughed as well; a warm, gentle laugh that filled Radagast’s heart with energy. “Shall we get breakfast?” he said.
Fluttershy nodded, but Radagast was already in the kitchen.
They had a merry and relaxing breakfast, silently enjoying the bounties of the Greenwood and Radagast’s gardens. When they both set aside their plates with a content glow in their bellies, Fluttershy looked at the wizard through her big, blue eyes. “Radagast, did you figure out the spell? When are we leaving?”
Radagast dabbed his mouth with a napkin, making sure to clean his beard as well. “Well, I have been busy last night, as you can see, and I have come a long way already. There’s just a few more books I’ll have to bury myself in, and then I’ll put the icing on the cake.” Radagast glanced at a nearby bookshelf at his collection of ancient tomes. “I think we’ll leave tonight. Tonight is better anyway, because elven magic is often fueled by moonlight and starlight. But I’ll have to study really hard, Fluttershy.”
Fluttershy nodded. She reckoned she could wait until night. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Radagast?”
“I’m afraid not, Fluttershy. Even if you would be a unicorn, I still think the magic would be too different. But that’s ok. You can… You can…” Then he clapped his hands together and smiled. “Why don’t you go outside and play with my animal friends? You’ve already made good friends with Alexander, and I’m certain the rest of my animals would like to meet you to. I reckon they will be very curious about your appearance these past days.”
Despite the giddiness of the wizard, Fluttershy looked at the ground. “Are you sure they’ll like me? Maybe they’re afraid of me. You said the animals of the Greenwood are different from the ones in Equestria, didn’t you?”
But Radagast waved Fluttershy’s words away with his hand. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, little Fluttershy. The animals in Rhosgobel are far from hostile. As I’ve said, they are willing to make the magical connection between master and pet. Perhaps you will be able to speak to them as well.”
“But… But…”
Then, with a tweet, Alexander the robin came flying out of an unseen hollow in the wood and landed on Fluttershy’s empty plate.
“You see,” Radagast said, “Alexander can’t wait. I bet he would love to introduce you to his friends. Now, off you go!”
Alexander flapped his wings, and retreated through a slit in the window of the front door. With hesitant steps, Fluttershy slid off her chair and did a few steps towards the door, where a ray of sunlight streamed through the little window.
“Radagast, are you sure there aren’t any—“
“Yes, yes, there are no predators.” Radagast stood up from his chair, opened the door, and shoved Fluttershy outside. “Now you have fun,” he said with a smile as bright as the sunlight, and then he closed the door.
* *
Fluttershy looked behind, as if she wanted to hurry back inside, but a sharp sound resounded in her ear; next to it flew the little red robin. He made a small circle through the air, and then landed right on top of Fluttershy’s nose. It tickled, and Fluttershy couldn’t help but laugh. She looked at the little robin, and for a moment, her crossed eyes looked much like Derpy’s.
“You remind me so much of one of my own animals, you know?” Fluttershy said.
But at the movement of her lips, Alexander had trouble keeping his balance. He pecked Fluttershy twice on the nose, and it almost looked as if the bird was frowning.
“Oh, excuse me,” Fluttershy said, and stuck out a hoof, on which Alexander hopped with a flap of his wings. He looked Fluttershy once more into the eyes, pecked her hoof, and let out three high tweets.
“You’re right,” Fluttershy said. “I shouldn’t be so bashful. You know what? I would love to meet your friends.”
Alexander bent through his knees chirped in delight, then he flew up into the air and disappeared behind Rhosgobel.
“Not so fast!” Fluttershy said, and trotted after him.
* *
Radagast quickly cleared the table and stacked the plates and cups in some forgotten corner; the dishes would come later, because he had a spell to prepare. Not even bothering to wipe the crumbles off the table, Radagast gathered his books and spread them out before him. Then he began hunting for his scraps of paper, which were still lying all across the room, and organized them.
“I should have written page-numbers,” Radagast muttered, as he fumbled with the paper.
He was already pretty close to finishing the spell, Radagast saw, as he flipped through the pages. There were a few of them with circles; the outer rings of the magical focal point he would carve out of the tree. With wrinkles above his brow, Radagast began thinking about the inner rings, what they would have to look like, and which words would have to be written on them. He reached out, and grabbed a book with a purple, richly decorated circle on it and opened it. This was going to take a while.
* *
In the meantime, Fluttershy had followed Alexander to the back of Rhosgobel, and discovered that the back wall of the cottage was adorned with birdhouses in every shape and size. Alexander flew off Fluttershy’s back and into one of the wooden birdhouses.
Under a chorus of tweets and chirps, birds flew in and out of their houses. Some carried worms, berries or other food, while others had little sticks and leaves in their beaks, ready to make their houses even more comfortable. They sailed through the air, carried by the gentle breeze of morning air. There were all kinds of birds: swallows, robins, blackbirds, jays, chickadees, and even two peregrine falcons on a large shelter on top of Rhosgobel. Fluttershy looked at their coming and going, and a warm smile appeared on her lips.
Back in Ponyville, Fluttershy had a lot of birdhouses herself, where she often helped the little critters making their nests or mend injured wings. Sometimes, when she was in a cheerful mood, Fluttershy would gather up all of her birds, and teach them how to sing beautiful songs like an orchestra, which she then directed with a branch in her hooves.
Suddenly, the head of Alexander appeared through the hole of his birdhouse, followed by two other robins. All of them then jumped out of their miniature cottages to circle around Fluttershy’s head.
“Hello, there. Nice to meet you. Are you friends of Alexander’s?”
The birds let out a tweet; one a high tweet, the other a low tweet, and Alexander himself somewhere between that. After a few circles, they landed on an oak branch, sprouting from an impressive, golden tree, not too high from the ground. There, they tweeted once more, but not in unison. One after the other they sang, and the sounds they made converged into a funny melody that echoed across the clearing.
Fluttershy gasped. “You can sing! I mean… you can sing like me!”
With a few flaps of her wings, Fluttershy was hovering before the three robins on the branch, who looked at her with black eyes radiating pride. It was as if they said: ‘You didn’t expect that, did you?’
Fluttershy made a mental note to ask Radagast about this. Perhaps he had taught his birds to sing as well. She could easily imagine that.
Then an idea popped up into her mind. She looked at the birdhouse-speckled wall, and then back at the three robins; a smile flashed across her lips.
“Alright, everybirdie, let’s have some fun.”
* *
Inside Rhosgobel, Radagast was still busy scribbling and drawing beside an ever-growing pile of notes. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he sat hunched over yet another drawing he tried to copy from the book on magical circles. With a hand as steady as a marksman’s, he crept over the parchment with his quill, slowly, until he reached the beginning of the circle, finishing the picture.
With a sigh of relief, Radagast placed his quill back in the inkpot and leaned back in his seat. With a gaze of contentment he looked at the drawing in his hands.
“Alright, that should do the trick.”
This had been the third time he had drawn the circle on the paper, and only this time had he been truly satisfied. Radagast knew that even the tiniest difference and the smallest detail mattered more than a mortal’s mind could think of. Even if someone who wasn’t magical would look at Radagast’s magical circle, he or she would still think of it as an amazing piece of art. Circles swirled up and over each other, only to converge in the end and form an infinite snake of lines. Every patch of free space was filled with mysterious symbols, and sometimes letters in the elven language; words so ancient that some elves had probably even forgotten about them. There was color too; green and brown delivering a stark contrast against a blue background. Radagast was not going to paint the whole circle during the preparations of the spell, however, but he was going to use colored powder and sand to get the colors right. He just hoped that Fluttershy wouldn’t sneeze.
Radagast looked up at the roof, without seeing anything. He thought of the things he still had to do. He had completed the focal point of the spell; the magical circle. Next would be the incantation; the words which would call the magical energy to the place where he wanted it to come. But before Radagast was going to open his books once more, he allowed himself a moment of rest, just to get his thoughts in line again and summon his concentration. Eyes closed, the wizard leaned further back and stretched his arms.
“I guess I’m a little out of shape,” he said, as he wriggled his writing-hand to get rid of the cramp.
He tried to think of something else, as he noticed that his mind didn’t want to rest. With a smile, Radagast wondered what Fluttershy would be up to, and if she would have had the opportunity to meet all of his animals.
Then a familiar sound reached Radagast’s ears, penetrating the wooden walls and flowing through the half-open window into the cabin; the sound of birds singing.
Radagast closed his eyes and let the beautiful, familiar sound fill the room and stroke his ears. But then he noticed that something was off. Radagast knew which birds lived in Rhosgobel. He knew them all by name, and of course, he knew what songs they sang in which season. Songs to impress, songs to warn, songs to intimidate, and songs to teach their children. Of course, sometimes they sang all together, which made it hard for Radagast to pick out the individual sounds through the cacophony of bird’s voices. But now, Radagast heard that they sang all together as well, but it wasn’t at all a tangle of sounds; it almost sounded like a song.
The bigger jays and crows provided a catchy bassline, while smaller birds like chickadees and sparrows interweaved a funny little melody. It almost sounded as if they were singing like humans in a choir, but lighter and brighter.
Then, Radagast suddenly opened his eyes, as he heard words drift on the sounds and make the song complete; it was Fluttershy’s voice.
With a jolt, Radagast jumped off his chair, and walked over to the window before opening it and sticking his head out and into the garden. There, he saw something he would never forget.
Seated on a low branch, right next to each other, were his birds—every bird. They were sorted by height, and the bigger creatures sat to the right, while the smaller ones were on the left. Opposite of the branch, with her back to Rhosgobel, hovered Fluttershy. She held a branch in her hooves, and waved it up and down through the air ever so gently, accompanying her bird ensemble in finding the right tones. On her shoulder sat Alexander, who sang merrily along.
It was as if Fluttershy’s voice was made for singing. Her tones and words were so soft, that they melted the air around. It was as if the air became overjoyed, and cooperated in carrying the beautiful sound as far as it could. Hanging over the windowsill, Radagast looked at the show, but even more so than looking, he listened.
What a strange new world I’m flung into
With many creatures never seen
Oddly colored plants and birds
Whose names are foreign, sharp and keen
But luckily this feels like home,
Rhosgobel filled with creatures and
With Radagast the wizard brown
I’ve made myself a brand-new friend
Sing, my birds, sing
With every note you bring,
You make me feel some more at home
In the book Lord of the Ring
How wonderful the Greenwood looks,
Red and gold in midday light
Shining flora and fauna rich
I wonder what it’s like tonight
Sing, my birds, sing
With every note you bring,
You make me feel some more at home
In the book Lord of the Ring
But soon it’s time to say goodbye
I hope he’ll understand
I don’t belong in Middle Earth
Equestria’s my land
Sing, my birds, sing
With every note you bring,
You make me feel some more at home
In the book Lord of the Ring
Sing, birdies, sing
With every note you bring,
You make me feel some more at home
For me a new beginning
The song came to an end, and the last wonderful echoes of Fluttershy’s voice drifted gently on the wind to other ears. Slowly, careful enough so Fluttershy wouldn’t see him, Radagast closed the window and turned back to his work. He still felt the tones and words flow through his mind, and he knew at that moment, that he would never forget them. He wanted to grab a piece of paper and write the lyrics of the song down, but found that no paper would be suitable for such beautiful sounds; no ink would be good enough to capture the letters. With a sigh, laden with delight at his experience, but sadness at its end, Radagast grabbed his books again.
He felt revitalized, as if the sounds and notes of the song filled him with determination. Radagast noticed how his hand was steadier, and his mind clearer like a meltwater stream, filled with thoughts. While he started writing down more elvish words and sentences to construct the incantation, Radagast’s mind was already far ahead, at the spell he would perform tonight.
What if he succeeded? Then Fluttershy would be back in her own world, with her own kind. But then Radagast would probably never see her again. Of course he wanted to help the young pegasus, but on the other hand, she was no longer the scared little horse he had found in the woods. She was playing, enjoying the weather and his company—and the same could be said for Radagast. With a sudden jolt which made his quill scratch in an odd direction, Radagast realized that he would lose her. Of course he still had all of his animal friends once Fluttershy would be safely back home; Radagast would definitely not be lonely. But she was special. Not only would Radagast like to learn more about her, her world, and her abilities, but he would also like to have her around because… they were friends. Never before had Radagast met a creature, man or elf, which resonated so much with his inner self. Never before had he met someone—or somepony—who shared the same passion, vision, and appreciation of life. Never before…
Should… should I ask her? Radagast’s own thoughts stuttered as the possibility emerged through the fog of his thoughts. Should I ask if she wants to stay in Rhosgobel? Could… could I do that?
Deep in his heart, Radagast wanted to. But he also realized that it would be Fluttershy’s own choice, and a hard one at that. And of course, she had a duty back home; to be the element of kindness and care for the animals of Ponyville. But… couldn’t another pony do that? Surely there had to be other ponies—perhaps even more magical than Fluttershy—who could do that.
Radagast’s mind boggled with these questions and assumptions. Suddenly he slammed a fist on the table, making the ink spill over his parchment.
No.
First one thing, then another. Radagast forced himself to concentrate. First he would make the spell complete, and then he would ask Fluttershy the question… maybe… perhaps... He grabbed another inkpot, a freshly sharpened quill, and sat down again. Minutes later, the only sound filling Rhosgobel was the rapid scribbling of quill on paper.
* *
“Thank you all very much, my little birdies,” Fluttershy said. “It has been lovely, but I don’t want to keep you off your daily work.”
The birds chittered and tweeted back in an indistinguishable cacophony of sounds. Fluttershy could only hear scraps of sentences.
“Oh, I know some of you would like to sing more, but I need all of you to form the complete orchestra. A song without bass notes is like a pegasus without wings.”
To that, some birds nodded and flew away. Others bent their knees and tilted their heads, looking at Fluttershy with big, black, pleading eyes. But soon they saw that their orchestra conductor was resolute, and instead jumped off the branch to land in Fluttershy’s mane and on her head.
Fluttershy chuckled at the feeling of dozens of twig-like bird feet. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t have made the orchestra without you, after all.”
But the birds didn’t agree, and rubbed their feathery heads against Fluttershy’s hide. Some pecked her softly, as if they kissed the pegasus in a gesture of gratitude.
“Thank you all so very much,” Fluttershy said, stroking some birds in her hooves. “But I don’t want to keep you from your work. I’ve got many other animal friends to meet here in Rhosgobel.”
Some of the birds nodded in agreement, and fluttered away. After a quick peck or a hug, the other birds followed suit. Only Alexander the robin stayed with Fluttershy, balancing on her hoof.
Fluttershy patted the little bird on the head. “So who’s next?”
Alexander let out a high chirp, and flew off towards the other side of Rhosgobel.
Fluttershy followed, trotting over the sunlit grass. She had to look for Alexander a couple of times, but then a tweet of the little bird pointed her in the right direction. A minute later, Fluttershy stopped before a small chicken-pen, leaning against the cottage next to the gardens.
Alexander flew in circles above the brown, puffy chickens, which looked lazy and content in the bright midday sun. Fluttershy walked closer, approaching slowly as not to scare away the chickens. She herself had often helped sick chickens at Applejack’s farm, and she knew which language they spoke.
Alexander landed on a pole, and waved one wing towards the chicken pens.
“Hello there, little chickens,” Fluttershy said. “How are you doing today?”
For a few seconds, a couple of nearby chickens stopped pecking at the ground and looked at Fluttershy. But then they continued their hunt for breadcrumbs.
“My name is Fluttershy, did Radagast give you names as well?”
This time, the chickens didn’t even look at her.
Is my chicken-dialect that rusty? Fluttershy thought. She decided to try something else, and scooted closer to the nettings. “Would you like to have some more breadcrumbs? I can ask Radagast to give me some.”
What animal wouldn’t like an early brunch on such a beautiful morning? But the chickens didn’t react; they merely started to dig with their legs into the ground.
Fluttershy sighed. “Maybe it’s another kind of language?”
Suddenly, a big, proud rooster climbed out of the little wooden cabin into the pen. He marched like a soldier down the plank, shook his big red comb, and walked straight towards Fluttershy.
“Ah, good,” Fluttershy said, as she reckoned the leader of the chickens might perhaps speak her language. “Mister rooster, can you help me? I’m trying to make friends with your hens, and I was wondering if you could be my translator—eh… if you’re not too busy, that is.”
But the rooster diverted his gaze. It looked as if he was looking straight through the pegasus in front of him, even though he had probably never seen such a strange animal before.
Fluttershy crouched down, until she was beak-to muzzle with the rooster. “Eh, Mister Rooster, I would be very grateful if—“
“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”
The rooster let out a cry and began to run around in circles, rounding up his hens. In a zipping ball of feathers, the animal shot through the pen, making sure to gather all the chickens and directing them towards the little wooden cabin, where the hens retreated in with many confuses squawks.
With a jolt, Fluttershy stood upright. “That wasn’t very polite,” she said, as she rubbed one ear with a hoof, as it still rang from the sudden outcry. Fluttershy looked around and stuck out a hoof, on which Alexander landed. “Did I say something wrong?”
But Alexander shook his head.
The sound of footsteps, rustling on the fallen leaves, traveled on the wind and shot into Fluttershy’s ear. She turned around, but then she froze into place.
In front of her, barely ten feet away, stood a big, grey, hairy wolf. Its tongue hung out of its open mouth, lined with yellowed, jagged teeth. It looked a bit like a timber-wolf, but bigger, much bigger. It wasn’t made of wood, of course, but stood there in flesh and blood; it didn’t look any more friendly than the dangerous timber-wolves Fluttershy had encountered before. The creature looked at Fluttershy with bright yellow eyes, and Fluttershy could only guess the thoughts that went behind them.
But that wasn’t right; wolves are nocturnal.
As Fluttershy stood there, filled with adrenaline, that thought somehow managed to break through the walls of panic. She felt petrified, turned to stone by the wolf’s gleaming eyes.
“Are you a chicken?”
Fluttershy’s mouth felt dry. It tried to form words, but she couldn’t speak.
“Well, are you?”
The wolf spoke to her. But the fear was still tightly wrapped around her heart. Fluttershy could take off, fly away, get to Radagast, to safety. But with a flash, Fluttershy realized that the beast was probably after Radagast’s chickens. Even though she was scared, Fluttershy wasn’t about to let that happen. But despite that, she still didn’t know what to say to this monster.
The wolf waved its thick, furry tail, and Fluttershy saw that a good portion of the tip was missing. A dark wound marked the edges of his tail, but the wound wasn’t bleeding. The creature did a step closer. It was limping badly, and Fluttershy spotted a similar wound on its hind leg, which seemed to let out tendrils of smoke.
“C-can… c-c-can… Can you understand me?” It was the best Fluttershy could come up with at the moment.
“A big yellow chicken… that speaks?” The wolf stopped in his tracks, looked down, and let out a growl. “I didn’t realize things were that bad… The order is so weird…” Then he looked at his tail. “Blast it, I’ll get help somewhere else.”
And before Fluttershy could say anything more, the wolf bolted back into the forest where it came from.
A minute passed; Fluttershy still stood rooted at the same spot. She wasn’t sure what had just happened. A predator, normally ever so frightful and self-sufficient, had spoken to her; had established the connection of his own free will.
Alexander came swooping in from the top of Rhosgobel. He landed right in front of Fluttershy and hopped from one leg to the other. Seeing no reaction from his friend, he tilted his head and gave out a loud, high-pitched tweet.
Still no reaction.
The bird flapped its wings, landed on top of Fluttershy’s muzzle, and pecked.
“Ouch!” Fluttershy called. With a shake of her head, she was back in the conscious world.
The robin hopped onto the ground, and began shaking its head wildly, muttering a chorus of tweets and chirps.
Slowly, Fluttershy came back to her senses and looked down at the robin. “Of course, we should tell Radagast.”
They trotted towards the door, knocked, entered. For a split-second, Fluttershy became amazed at the giant pile of paper before Radagast, but then she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the wizard. “Radagast!”
Radagast was just in the middle of a sentence, and finished it before dipping his quill in the inkpot. Then, he turned around and looked at Fluttershy. By the look on her face, he could tell that something was wrong.
Then Fluttershy told him about the encounter with the wolf, her legs still shaking as she recounted the tale. Radagast nodded and occasionally raised his eyebrows as he listened; it was quite an odd tale.
“So you’re sure he spoke to you?” Radagast said when Fluttershy had finished. “Are you very sure he did? It might also have been your fear playing tricks on your mind.”
“No, he really talked to me,” Fluttershy said, knees buckling as she recalled the hoarse, grim voice.
“Hmm…” Radagast removed his reading glasses and twirled them around in his fingers. “You said the creature was wounded, didn’t you? Maybe he was desperate for help. Maybe he wanted me to mend him, and was willing to make the connection between master and pet to convey his cry for help?"
That sounded logical. “Yes, maybe. He had two nasty-looking wounds. I’m pretty sure one of them was still smoking.”
“Smoking?” Radagast put his glasses carefully down on the pile of books. “That’s strange. I haven’t sensed a forest fire anywhere in the Greenwood.”
“Oh.”
“Perhaps he came from other lands.” But Radagast knew that was a long shot, as the Greenwood was big and housed many wolves.
Then, Fluttershy looked at the ground, and rubbed one foreleg against the other. “Can… can I stay indoors with you, Radagast?”
When Radagast saw Fluttershy like that, the picture of the scared, stressed pony he’d encountered in the Greenwood on that stormy day came back to him. It pained his heart to see her that way. “Of course,” Radagast said. “Don’t you think about that beast anymore. Maybe the wolf will come back, and if he does, I will help him, but I will make sure he behaves when he does.”
Fluttershy nodded, and sat down on the ground. Alexander flew up and landed on Fluttershy’s hoof, determined to keep her company.
But despite the matter of the wolf fading from the conversation, it didn’t leave Radagast’s thoughts. He wondered what brought a predator to Rhosgobel, why he didn’t accept his fate as many wounded predators normally did. Did the wolf need help so badly? Did he not want to accept his injury or his death? And those last words of the beast, what could they mean? ‘I didn’t realize that things were that bad…’
But then Radagast grabbed his quill again; he would think about this later. Right now, he had other important things to do.
And so they sat, Radagast studying, and Fluttershy waiting and playing. The pegasus listened to the scratches of the wizard’s quill on the parchment, and the occasional muttered thought. Sometimes, Fluttershy stood up and made some tea for her and Radagast, but even as the wizard sipped his cup, his eyes never left the work he was writing. From time to time, Fluttershy would take a peek at Radagast’s notes and books, and couldn’t help but be impressed at the things that were written on the parchment. The ancient symbols looked beautiful, and the elvish script even so. Fluttershy listened to Radagast, doing her best to sift some understandable words from the ancient incantations, but failed miserably. Elvish magic was quite different from the magic in Equestria, Fluttershy thought.
The day went by, and dusk fell over the Greenwood. Owls hooted and flew up from the trees, ready for a nightly hunt, together with the foxes and bats. Daytime creatures began searching for a comfortable hideout to sleep through the night, comforted by the protection Rhosgobel offered them. The trees were still awake, and rustled amongst each other, perhaps discussing the amazing clarity of the night, and the sky full of cheerful stars.
Just when Fluttershy thought that the pile of notes would fall down onto the ground, Radagast put his quill back in the inkpot and looked at Fluttershy with a smile on his face.
“Done?”
“Done.”
* *
Even though the vibrant red and golden trees had to surrender their colors to the fading light of the incoming night, they still looked alive and impressive. The moon shone brightly overhead, penetrating the roof of leaves at some places to cast gloomy beams of light upon the forest floor. Oaks and birches flashed by on either side, their leaves whispering unintelligible words in the nightly air. Radagast and Fluttershy zipped through the forest, holding on tightly to the bars on Radagast’s sled, while the rabbits did their best to go as fast as they could. Fluttershy held on to either side of the sled using her wings, and Radagast looked ahead, as he tried to remember exactly where he wanted to go.
“So what are we looking for?” Fluttershy called from behind.
“A tree,” Radagast said. “It is a sacred oak tree, standing in the middle of a clearing. We should be able to spot it above the leaf-crowns of the ordinary trees.”
But Fluttershy reckoned that finding one tree in a forest full of other trees had to be difficult. They had been traveling for an hour or so, and Radagast had said that they should be near.
The sled skidded over the dead leaves on the forest floor, casting aside shrubs and bouncing over rocks. They reached a hill, which the rabbits climbed with an unimaginable, collective strength, before plunging down into valley filled with oaks.
“I think we’re almost there,” Radagast said. “Could you fly into the air and look if you can see it?”
Fluttershy waited until she saw a gap in the roof of leaves. When one appeared, she jumped into the air and flapped her wings, disappearing through the gap and into the beam of moonlight. From high up in the air, Fluttershy felt a stronger breeze through her mane, and saw a sea of green instead of a sky of green. Trees… trees… trees… But there, about a mile further, Fluttershy could see the contours of an enormous trunk, adorned with a leaf-crown covering half of it. The giant looked a bit like a dark mushroom, painted on a black canvas illuminated by the silver moonlight. She couldn’t see if it was an oak, but she had the feeling it was the tree they had been looking for.
With a few flaps of her wings, Fluttershy fell into a glide. As silent as a rustling breeze, she glided over the tops of the trees, until she saw Radagast’s sled. She looked for a gap once more, dived, and landed on the back of the sled. She struggled not to lose her balance, grabbing hold of the sled with both wings. “Go to the right, Radagast, we’re almost there.”
“Gee, gee,” Radagast said, and then the sled veered off to the right, splashing straight through a shallow stream.
The land became increasingly flat. Where before there had been the occasional hill or depression in the land, now grassy fields and patches of oak trees took their place. The land became opener, the gaps in the green roof more frequent, until Fluttershy could look up and gaze at the silvery stars in the night sky. Were stars in Equestria that shiny too?
The rabbits accelerated, feeling the lay of the land cooperate underneath their feet. They crossed one more large grassy field, waving in the wind like a sea of green, before they reached the trees again.
But they didn’t have to toil through the dense shrubs and vegetation for long, because suddenly the trees retreated, as if something had scared them away. There was a clearing, a large one, with in the middle one massive, golden oak tree.
Fluttershy gasped at the sight. Never before had she seen such an extraordinary tree. Not in Ponyville, not in the Everfree Forest, not anywhere. The trunk of the tree shone a pale gold in the moonlight, its bark looking as if it was plated with precious metals. A few of its roots were shallow, and stuck out of the ground like snakes as thick as tree-trunks.
“Whoa, whoa!” Radagast called, and the sled skidded to a halt before one of the massive roots.
But Fluttershy wasn’t able to jump off, wasn’t able to move. She couldn’t stop looking at the massive tree.
Radagast scrambled off the sled, and flung a heavy backpack over his shoulder. From a nifty constructed holder, he grabbed his staff; the crystal shone in the moonlight. Then he looked over to his companion. “Shall we go, Fluttershy?” Radagast said.
Fluttershy’s eyes didn’t leave the tree. “Yes,” she said, but her voice was distant.
Radagast let her be, and marched closer to the massive trunk, at least five times the diameter of Ponyville’s town square. He made sure not to step into the shadow, and instead stopped right before it, his small stature making the tree look even more gigantic. He raised his hands, and gripped his staff tightly in both of them. Feeling the magic practically dripping off the air, Radagast had no trouble at all channeling it. He lowered his head, and for a second, the blue gem in his staff glowed like the moonlight itself. Then Radagast thrust his staff down, hitting a root of the tree with the bottom. Behind him, another gasp came from Fluttershy at the spectacle before her eyes.
Light as pale as the stars started gleaming through the leaves of the tree, spiraling up and around the golden trunk. When Fluttershy looked closer, she saw that they were actually little lanterns, illuminating a walkway which snaked around the tree like branches of ivy.
Radagast looked back at the pegasus and flashed a smile. “Are you ready?”
Without a word, Fluttershy followed the wizard, not taking her eyes off of the lantern-lit lightshow.
With every step they took, the view became more beautiful. It didn’t take them long to rise above the leaf-crowns of other trees, making them look pitiful and unimportant beside the giant oak. Moths began to gather at the lights as Radagast and Fluttershy climbed on. Sometimes, there was a porch, revealing a hollowed-out room inside the tree-trunk. Some of those rooms were bigger than Twilight’s throne room, Fluttershy saw, and many had decorated furnishings.
“This is where the elves gathered to practice their magic,” Radagast said. “Although it has long been abandoned, sometimes elves return to practice their arts. Maybe they do it out of nostalgia, to dig up ancient memories of times long by.”
With those words, Fluttershy looked again at the occasional rooms. Indeed, she saw that the artwork was often overgrown with moss or broken. The chairs, tables, and bookcases looked weathered, the books eaten by moths. But still Fluttershy had no trouble imagining elves inside the room, elves seated on the ground, while one of them explains the usage of magic and shows off his most awe-inspiring magical spells, only for the others to try and copy them.
“Why did they leave?” Fluttershy asked.
Radagast leaned on his staff, as if the memories weighed heavily on his mind. “Many elves retreated to their land of origin: the Undying Lands. Many elves feel homesick, although they will never show it to anyone. Sometimes that feeling of homesickness becomes too much for them to bear, which I can imagine if one lives forever. Then they have no desire to stay in Middle Earth and leave. Throughout the years, elves have become more and more scarce, and the few that still live here prefer to keep to themselves and their traditions, and rarely show themselves to outsiders.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy said; she was not sure what to say.
They climbed on. Radagast and Fluttershy continued to follow the stairs, which buried them deeper and deeper into the enormous leaf-crown. In the blue light of the lanterns, Fluttershy saw that the tree was still green, delivering a stark contrast against the red-and-gold hidden in the nightly darkness. Fluttershy found it quite odd; it was autumn after all.
“It absorbs and feeds itself with the flow of magic,” Radagast said when Fluttershy asked about it. “It doesn’t need to shed its summer coat.”
Fluttershy nodded, and wondered whether this tree would be something like the Tree of Harmony, which probably did the same thing, as it grew in a cave and never needed sunlight or water.
After another bend of the stairs, the lanterns illuminated the end of the walkway. Radagast stopped.
They stood still before yet another porch, this one decorated more than the others with swirling symbols of interweaved vines and leaves, unique yet still in harmony with the tree itself. Radagast motioned for them to go inside. The first thing Fluttershy noticed were the leaves that covered the wooden floor. When she looked up, Fluttershy saw that they had reached the top of the tree, and above them there was the leaf-crown of the gigantic oak. An occasional ray of moonlight streamed through the living roof, giving the whole spot a ghostly appearance.
This was it; this was the spot. Fluttershy felt a shiver go through her body. Whether it was the cold, high wind, the excitement, or the ambiance of the spot, she couldn’t guess.
But Radagast seemed undaunted, and immediately set to work. He slung his backpack off his shoulder, took out a piece of white chalk, and started to draw upon the floor.
He got the whole circle right the first try, as he knew he would, because he had studied the symbols for a long time back in Rhosgobel. He finished the circle, sprinkled the colored powder into place, and scribbled down the elvish incantations, while Fluttershy watched with undying interest.
“Fluttershy,” Radagast said. His tone was so serious it startled the pegasus. “I want you to sit in the middle of the circle—right in the middle. Sit very still and don’t talk, that is really important.”
Fluttershy nodded, and felt her heart racing. This was it; this was the moment. She flapped her wings, and slowly hovered over to the middle of the circle, grabbing her long tail in her hooves to prevent it from sweeping away the chalk or the colors. She landed, and looked at the wizard, who was busy finding the right notes.
Radagast pulled out a piece of paper, scribbled full from top to bottom with text. Then another, and then a few more. He laid them next to each other on the wood, putting small branches on the edges to prevent them from blowing away. Then he reached once more into his backpack, pulling out five objects: a golden ring, a balance, a branch with green leaves, a string of daisies, and a rattle.
Fluttershy wanted to ask the wizard what those were for, as they looked as if they had nothing in common, but she remained silent so that Radagast could concentrate.
“This is an idea I thought of myself,” Radagast said, guessing Fluttershy’s thoughts. “They represent the elements of harmony, as you described them. The golden ring stands for loyalty, as it is an ancient wedding ring, worn by a great king of men. The balance stands for honesty and fair judgement, although I’m sad to see it go; I’ll have to ask Gandalf to bring me a new one.” Radagast shook his head. “Anyway, the next object is this branch of the great tree we’re standing in. It represents magic, as the magical energy of the tree flows in all its branches and leaves. This branch I’ve kept for a long time, and it has never withered, therefore I know for certain that the magic is still potent and present.”
Fluttershy nodded as the wizard began placing all of the objects into the circle, each one at a different spot.
“For the element of generosity I have this necklace. A few of my bird-friends, who have long since flown to other regions, gave it to me after I helped them through a particularly strict winter.” Radagast laid it down behind Fluttershy, and then pulled out the rattle. With a swing of his wrist, he let it spin, and the noise echoed through the hollow tree trunk. Radagast chuckled. “I guess I don’t have to tell you which element the rattle stands for.”
Despite the nerves, Fluttershy managed a slim smile too.
Radagast placed the rattle to the right of Fluttershy, adjusted it, and then stepped back to observe his work. He nodded. Done and done. But that was just the easy part…
The wizard stepped behind his pieces of paper and grabbed his staff. But he didn’t sit down yet. Turning his staff around in his fingers, he looked at the ground, as if he was unsure what to do next—but he knew all too well what to do next.
Finally, he looked up to meet Fluttershy’s gaze. Her eyes were sparkling in the moonlight, and she looked as if she were waiting for her son or daughter to come back from school. Expectant. Eager. Ready. But maybe scared as well. Perhaps Radagast should say something to calm her down, but instead, he said something else.
“Fluttershy?”
“Yes? Is everything alright, Radagast?”
She saw it, of course she did. She saw that Radagast was struggling with something. She saw the doubt in his eyes, shining through those striking seas of blue which had seen so much.
Should I ask her…? Do I have the right to ask her…? Do I have the guts to ask her…?
Fluttershy tilted her head. “Did you forget something?”
Radagast felt as if he was torturing himself—but he was also torturing Fluttershy. She’s just so sweet, Radagast thought. She just wants to help me.
Fluttershy opened her mouth to speak, but Radagast cut her off.
“No.” Then he shook his head. “I mean… eh… I’m alright. I just wanted to say… eh… “
“Say it, for forest’s sake! Ask her if she wouldn’t rather want to stay.”
“Goodbye… Goodbye, Fluttershy.”
The waver in Radagast’s voice made Fluttershy swallow back some tears. Radagast had been so good for her. He had helped her, fed her, given her a roof over her head. He had given her many new animal friends. They had laughed, talked, whispered, shared their lives. But above all, the wizard had given Fluttershy the most beautiful gift of all: friendship. And now, it would be all over. They would both stop to exist except in each other’s minds and on paper.
“Goodbye, Radagast.” Fluttershy felt her voice deform with the emotions she felt; she couldn’t say anything more.
“Let’s get you back home, Fluttershy.”
“Alright,” Fluttershy said. She smiled at Radagast; it was the sweetest smile he had ever seen, but it pained him.
With a sigh, Radagast crouched down onto the ground, right in front of his papers. He sat on his knees, while his hands rested around the hilt of his staff. An uncomfortable position, but necessary. Everything was part of the spell—everything but his thoughts.
“Let us begin,” he said, more to himself than to Fluttershy.
Radagast closed his eyes; the first sentences of the incantation bubbled up from the bottom of his mind, and the words began flowing from his lips.
Inside the circle, Fluttershy felt a tingling sensation. But then she realized it wasn’t the magic, but goosebumps, sprouting on her hide like she had just stepped into an icy cold stream. She was afraid, she knew that. How could she not be? If this spell was anything like the teleportation machine Twilight had built, she was in for a show. Fluttershy tried to push the doubt away, and looked at Radagast, as she knew the figure of the wizard would put her mind at ease.
Suddenly, the blue lights of the tree flickered, as if there was a power-failure. Radagast had opened his eyes and looked straight at the top of his staff, still muttering words ancient and forgotten. The crystal embedded in his staff began to shine blue. It wasn’t the same color as the lanterns outside, for this blue wasn’t just empty light. This blue was something more. This blue had something in it. The blue looked alive.
Fluttershy looked at the staff as well, hypnotized by its shine. But her thoughts continued where they’d left off. She felt comfortable with Radagast. For the first time in days, Fluttershy realized that she would never see him again after tonight. After tonight, he would be gone, existing only as letters on a book page, barely a paragraph long. Of course she wanted to return to Equestria, as this world was still wild and unpredictable, but Radagast was her friend now too. Radagast…
The shine of the gem became brighter and brighter, to the point where it became painful to look at. But still both Fluttershy and Radagast looked at the light, as if there was nothing else in Middle Earth but that magical light.
Radagast felt the magic in the air. He felt the energy swirl all around. First in the branches and leaves of the tree, then in the air, and then in his staff. Mists of magical energy became visible, and filled the room in the blink of an eye. Pale blue—almost white—and amplified by the moonlight, the magic flowed across the room, spinning like a tornado, but slower, gentler, more subtle. The center of the magical haze was Fluttershy, who stood inside the circle with trembling legs.
Despite being non-magical, Fluttershy did see the tornado of light as well, and it frightened her. It didn’t look at all like the machine, though, and was definitely not that noisy. In fact, it sounded just like a strong wind through the leaf-crowns of trees. But still, Fluttershy felt afraid. She was like an outsider, standing on an island in the middle of a swirling mist, and just as nobody knows what is in the water before their feet, Fluttershy didn’t know what was happening in that tornado. The only thing she knew was that it was magical.
Radagast’s voice became louder, as he recited the lost words of the spell. He had to shout now to be heard over the whooshing of the swirling stream of magic, circling around the focal point. Suddenly, five bright lights popped up, as if someone had lit five different lanterns simultaneously. They weren’t lanterns which were glowing, however, but the objects Radagast had chosen. The ring lighted up a light blue, the balance orange, the branch became purple, the necklace white, and the rattle a light pink. Then, the colors left their objects, floated in the air, and started to circle around Fluttershy in the torrent of white-blue magic, bleeding the colors into the waves like paint on a canvas. It didn’t take long before Fluttershy lost sight of Radagast, no longer being able to peek through the transparent waves.
Panic struck her like the slap of a hoof, and she waved her tail restlessly. “Radagast!” she called out. The air absorbed all her words, as if she was trapped inside a bubble, and for all Fluttershy knew, she might as well be. “Radagast! Where are you!”
But the wizard could neither see nor hear her, and chanted his elvish words.
“Radagast!” Fluttershy screamed in a broken voice. “I’m so scared!”
If he wasn’t busy, Radagast would surely have told Fluttershy that that wasn’t necessary. He would have told her that in his high, calming voice, which sounded always ready to turn into a panicky one at a moment’s notice. But that was okay, because then Fluttershy could calm him. “Radagast!”
Despite his undying concentration, one thought slipped through: It’s working! Radagast could feel the magic connecting, fueled by his makeshift elements of harmony. He hadn’t been sure if they would do anything, but they did. It was working.
But it was tough. The magic flowed through Radagast’s body, through his staff, and he felt his energy drain. It was as if a constant stream of water flowed through his corporeal being; water with sand and pebbles in it, scraping against the riverbed which was his mind. Radagast knew that it would be heavy, a spell such as this one, but he had to hold on—for Fluttershy.
Inside the multicolored swirl of magical energy, Fluttershy snorted restlessly. She flung her head to the left and the right, as if she was looking for a way out; it was her fight or flight instinct, which had chosen to flee. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to stand still, and teleport back to Equestria. Equestria… The thought became projected on the magical, multicolored waves, and Fluttershy could see it; the land she came from—the world she came from. The colors mingled and swirled, until Fluttershy started to see familiar shapes and colors. She could see the cozy little houses of Ponyville, each crowned with a thatched roof. She could see Twilight’s Castle of Friendship right in the middle, a bright purple tree against the warm brown of the straw roofs. She could see the crystal hallways, winding everywhere they could. And finally, she saw her friends. They were looking down at her, almost like Fluttershy’s nightmare, where she’d seen many , many eyes gazing at her and through her into her very soul. But her friends’ eyes weren’t creepy; they were comfortable.
“Grit your teeth, Fluttershy, bite through this!” Rainbow Dash said, her voice harsh but encouraging, beaming with strength and support.
“I know you can,” Applejack said, “and I never lie.”
Rarity winked. “I believe in you, Fluttershy. A few more seconds, and then you’ll be back in your comfortable little cottage.”
Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer appeared together, heads bowed low. It was only Twilight who spoke. “I’m really sorry I put you into so much trouble. Once you’re back, I can finally tell you how sorry I am.”
Fluttershy was just about to tell them that they shouldn’t feel bad, but then the image faded and Pinkie Pie jumped into view.
“Oh! That looks like fun! You have to show us so we can try that here in Equestria.”
Despite the fear clawing at Fluttershy’s nerves, she managed a smile, and the claws broke off for a moment. Sometimes, Pinkie’s ability to make other ponies laugh was just magical.
But then Fluttershy’s smile disappeared, as she saw something new spring into view. A new vision perhaps?
It was like a dark ball, bouncing through the torrent before circling along. The ball bounced once, twice, and then splattered like an ink stain through the colors. One by one, the dark stain blackened out the colorful hues, replacing them with its own light-devouring pigment. Bigger and bigger the ink stain became, until Fluttershy could see her own reflection in the dark, shiny color.
The light became dimmed. The crystal on Radagast’s staff faded. In mid-sentence, Radagast stopped the incantation and looked at the circle.
A black cylinder loomed over Fluttershy, and Radagast could no longer see her. Then, a single tendril of blackness shot out like an arm, and reached for the crystal on Radagast’s staff.
“No!”
“NO!”
Radagast broke the link, and he was no longer a part of the magical spell he was performing. Something wasn’t right. Something was very wrong. He had to stop this.
The arm pulled back, disappearing into the black mass, circling like an oily snake around Fluttershy. The light on Radagast’s staff now completely disappeared, and so did the light of the lanterns, the light of the moon, the light of the stars.
Radagast felt the air being sucked out of his mouth, as he gasped at the horrible sight. Suddenly, a spark swirled through the dark mass in front of him, growing into a fire only moments later. The fire spread, and ignited the oily mass, but not quite. The flames swirled together with the oil, forming a ragged, oval shape with a pupil as dark and infinite as the night sky.
The eye didn’t blink, nor did it move. While the flames and the oil kept circling with a terrifying speed, the eye remained still; a fiery eye frozen in place.
Fluttershy was still in there. Radagast had to do something. He gathered his wits, flung his arms apart, thought of the most powerful counter-spell he knew. The crystal at the tip of his staff flashed back to life, almost burning with a bright blue glow. Then Radagast’s arms came together, and he thrust his staff on the ground.
A halo of magical energy erupted from the tip of the staff. It struck the eye, chasing away the flames, but only for a second. In that second, Radagast could see Fluttershy in the middle of the circle. She was still there. She was still alive.
But when the halo retracted, the eye rematerialized, until it stared once more, blazing at the wizard.
Radagast muttered a curse in the Elvish tongue, and his eyes flashed in every direction, as if the answer to this crisis lay hidden somewhere. Panic took hold of him, but he shrugged it off. In his mind, he went through all of his spell-books, picking out a spell that would destroy this infernal eye.
Fluttershy stood in the middle of the circle, but she couldn’t see anything anymore. There was only fire or void, creeping up from every side in a deadly tornado. Fluttershy felt like she’d just stepped into an oven, and the heat blasted in her face. She shut her eyes, both against the heat, and because they would dry out if she didn’t. “What is happening!” she yelled, but her words were lost in the void. It looked as if the walls of fire were closing in on her. She knew that she couldn’t stand it any longer. She would be roasted alive. Suddenly, the stench of burning hair filled the dark cocoon, and when Fluttershy looked back, she saw that her tail caught fire. Quickly she waved it around, extinguishing the flames biting at her tail; wisps of purple smoke emanated from the singed hairs.
“HELP!”
Everything went black.
Then, the pupil of the eye exploded in a torrent of fire. But it was blue fire. The face of the wizard came into view. Then his hand. He grabbed Fluttershy by her front hooves and hauled her with an adrenaline-filled burst of strength through the gap in the flame-ringed pupil.
“We have to go!” Radagast yelled over the roaring flames, but then he saw that Fluttershy was limp, and her eyes were closed.
He hoped. He hoped she wasn’t gone. But he didn’t have time to hope. Radagast flung Fluttershy over his shoulder and started moving towards the stairs. Before he stepped through the arch, he looked back once more.
The eye was shaking like an unstable spell, until it let loose a spray of white-hot embers, showering down on the leaf crown. Immediately, with an unnatural speed, the leaves caught fire, and soon the green roof transformed into a hellish, fiery blanket.
Despite the heat, the burning tree, the limp pegasus on his back, Radagast couldn’t go. He couldn’t avert his gaze from that single, enormous eye, watching his every move. A burning branch snapped off and fell right before Radagast’s feet, but still he didn’t budge. Then, with a voice as cold as the steel kiss of a knife, stabbing through flesh and bone, the eye spoke three words.
“I… SEE… YOU…!”
It wasn’t even screaming, but it wasn’t whispering either. It wasn’t a threat, but it wasn’t a cruel laugh either. It was just those three words, echoing endlessly through the burning chamber.
Then, the eye exploded. The pupil disappeared, and it sent a halo of infernal, fiery magic flying all around. Radagast turned around, trying to protect Fluttershy from the flames; it cost him the skin of his back. Radagast felt the flames biting and flaying his skin, and then spreading salt right over it. His knees gave way, and he screamed almost as loud as the roaring of the flames. Strangely enough, his mantle was unharmed.
Radagast forced himself to stand up, fell down, stood up again. With his free hand, he grabbed the wooden rail of the stairs and stumbled down, sometimes staggering, sometimes crawling.
Around him, the tree began falling apart. It was as if the sun was shining only inches away from his head. Burning leaves rained down, and smoke made the air stab his throat. Radagast didn’t think; he acted. Like a fireman he carried Fluttershy on his back, determined to escape the burning tree or die trying.
Down between the roots of the trees, the rabbits stood upright and looked at the fiery oak, hoping to catch a glimpse of their master. Part of them wanted to flee from this macabre forest fire, but the leader had urged them to stay. Only when the tree would fall down to the ground would they go.
“Thank the eagles, you’re still here.”
Radagast staggered towards the sled, laid down Fluttershy as carefully as his pained limbs allowed, and clamped his blistered fingers around the handlebar. “Go,” he said through gritted teeth.
But the rabbits didn’t need to be told what to do. They ran away from the ghastly fire as fast as they could, together with many other animals, who had smelled or seen the forest fire too. Foxes, elks, birds; all had the same terror in their eyes.
Suddenly, an enormous rumble like an earthquake made the forest tremble. Behind the sled, the giant magical tree buckled, and fell down amidst a rain of cinders; the rumble had been its death-cry.