Lumbercraft jumped at an owl’s hoot. He put a hoof on his chest to calm his heartbeat.
An owl! It’s... just an owl.
The thick night was filled with worrying sounds. The trees creaked, the wind whistled, and all kind of scary creatures with long claws and sharp teeth were making their presence known. Probably to frighten their prey and tenderise it. He tried to cast a light spell, but he was too scared to even channel the smallest amount of magic in his horn. He had to rely on his memories of the path to the treehouse.
“What did he want us to do at this hour?” he mumbled, trying to cover the night sounds with his voice.
A twig snapped behind him, and he froze. He had heard most predators had vision based on movement. If he was lucky, the beast that had made the sound was one of them and —
“Hey, Lumby.”
If he was competing in the high jump, Lumbercraft would have probably earned a place on the podium. Unfortunately, he was alone in the middle of an orchard, late in the night, and an unknown monster had touched his side.
“Please, monster, don’t eat me!” he whined, hiding his head between his hooves. “I’m too slim to make a decent meal!”
“It’s just me, silly.”
The foal opened his eyes and recognised his friend Puffy Gust, hovering above him.
“Puffy, you scared me!”
“I can see that,” he giggled. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but don’t sneak behind me like that again!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
They went back on the way to their destination. Now that he had his friend as company, Lumbercraft felt a bit safer.
“We’re cool,” he said. “But please, don’t tell Mapple.“
“Promise.”
“By the way, do you know why he asked for us to come?”
“He didn’t tell me. You?”
“No.”
Mac Apple, or Mapple as they called him, often came up with the most unexpected ideas. Lumberjack was happy to follow him in his antics, even if it sometimes earned them some hours of detention. Whatever it was, they were about to find out soon enough; the treehouse was in sight. They knocked, and their friend’s voice replied to come in.
They entered a dark room, only lit by two candles on a table where a young earth pony was waiting for them.
“What took you so long, guys?” asked Mapple.
“Heh, we took the scenic route,” said Puffy Gust, winking at Lumbercraft.
“Urgh, guys, this is important. Haven’t I harped enough on that?”
“You have,” said LumberCraft. “But you still haven’t told us what this is all about.”
“This,” he said, taking on a deep, serious voice and presenting a worn book, “This decoctions book contains knowledge banned by the Princess of Friendship eons ago. And we’re gonna craft one of the recipes. I found the book in my attic yesterday.”
Lumbercraft took a look at the cover. Some letters were missing. He could only read, ‘..a..k....mag..c’.
“Uh, Mapple? Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course,” he replied. “We’re gonna make history by bringing back ancient knowledge.”
“You know,” said Puffy. “I’m pretty sure there’s a reason Princess Twilight declared this book forbidden.”
“C’mon, I got this. We’ll only make one of the last recipes.”
“Why one of the last?” asked Lumbercraft.
Mapple rolled his eyes. “Duh, because it’s common knowledge all the dangerous things in dark magic books are at the beginning, just to catch the ponies thirsty for power. The harmless ones are at the end.”
Lumbercraft raised an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, do you even know what we’re gonna make?”
“We’re gonna make a keezatila.”
They both stared at him. “A what now?” said Lumbercraft.
“A keezatila. I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of familiar for wizards. I could have my own and it would help me harvest the apples. I’ll name it Keeza.”
“Hey, why should you be the one to keep it?” retorted Puffy.
“Don’t worry. If this works, we’ll all have one. Did you bring what I asked?”
They both retrieved the items in their saddlebags: pastry, tomatoes, cheese, butter, and spices. The three of them got to work, following Mapple’s instructions.
“Feels like we’re cooking a meal rather than crafting magic,” said Puffy after a moment. “And I’m kinda hungry.”
“You’ll eat later. Less talking, more working,” snapped Mapple.
After several minutes, they ended with an appetizing mix.
“Now, Lumby, I need you to heat it for ten minutes.”
Lumbercraft complied, and the mix soon took a delicious brown tint.
“Now the book said we had to add a spark of magic.”
“There is nothing else?” asked Lumbercraft.
“Well, you’re a unicorn, you should know what it means.”
“I may be a unicorn, but you should know magic is a science, you don’t simply throw magic at things and expect results.”
“Can’t you just channel yours into it?”
“I can, but that won’t do anything.” Lumberjack lit his horn and sent some of his magic in the mix. He had expected to feel some magic feedback, but the thing seemed to be as inert as it looked.
“See?” he said after a moment. “Nothing.”
“Maybe because you did it wrong. Try again,” said Mapple.
“I told you, it’s useless.”
“Your magic is useless. If you spent more time studying and less time playing with wood, I would have a pet right now.”
“My magic is useless? And what do you know about magic, you who—” Lumberjack stopped when he noticed Puffy’s hunger had won the fight against his common sense. He was hovering above them, a half-keezatila in his hoof, the other in his mouth. “Puffy! What have you done?”
“What?” he said. “I told you I was hungry.”
“Are you out of your mind? This could be dangerous! We don’t know what it could to do you and — gimme the book!”
Lumbercraft read the recipe carefully, looking for any hint of what terrible consequences could suffer his friend. He didn’t find anything relevant, but something was amiss. The whole text was typed, except for a short note at the bottom, ‘banned … Twilight Sparkle’.
That was odd. If this was a book of dark magic, it should have been hoof or hornwritten, not typed. He looked at the other pages, and at the cover, then glared at Mapple.
“Mapple, you idiot! That’s not a dark magic book, that’s a cooking book! ‘Baking is magic’! And it’s not a ‘keezatila’, it’s a quesadilla!”
“So I’m safe?” asked Puffy, chewing the last bits of the quesadilla.
“Unless you’re allergic to anything we brought, I think you’re good,” groaned Lumbercraft. “Thank Sparkle it was only a cooking book.”
“And a good one with that,” added Puffy. “This thing is delicious.”
Mapple whined. “Aw, now I want one.”
“Well, we still have some ingredients left,” said Puffy.
Lumbercraft facehoofed.