//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Nyxing Hour // by Nagel Navari //------------------------------// Midnight Storm was not a happy kirin. It had taken Zecora weeks to convince her to let somepony from Ponyville visit her home. Weeks wondering if the pony would think that the Everfree Forest was too close for somepony as monstrous as her to live to their town. Ponies seemed afraid of the forest, and that fear kept them from discovering her. Considering the depths to which she had sunk, up to and including living alone in the Everfree Forest, Midnight didn’t know how much lower she could go. She’d already run out of cities—would there be nowhere left for her? Midnight dismissed that thought, focusing instead on the path ahead of her. She intended to give Zecora a piece of her mind—not to be too harsh, since the zebra was her only friend in the Everfree and she might not ever make another—but at the very least, to let her know how much distress she had caused over nothing. In the end, Ponyville’s open-minded student of friendship hadn’t even bothered to send a note letting her know she couldn’t come. Perhaps the creatures of the Everfree could sense her frustration, because they scattered before her as she went, small animals and large alike getting out of the way of a distressed predator. And predator she was—from her fangs to the blade on her tail, there was no mistaking the angry kirin for one of the helpless ponies. There was no mistaking her diet either. The other predators in this part of the forest knew to stay away from her hunting grounds. It was true that the Everfree Forest was filled with all sorts of magical dangers, but Midnight Storm had never let that stop her. She knew it better than anypony else, from end to end. It was her home, after all. And during the day, there was nothing to frighten her away. Yet she could still be surprised. As she made her way along the unmarked trail, occasionally cutting down branches that got in her way, she heard something that she shouldn’t—crying. Loudly enough that Midnight knew other creatures would have heard it as well. The creatures of the Everfree might’ve learned to respect her, but that respect would go only so far. When it came down to a contest over prey as large as a pony, young enough to be helpless… Midnight broke into a gallop. The trees of the Everfree were far too close together to fly here, not with her draconic wingspan. As she ran towards the noise, Midnight found herself feeling her first twinge of guilt. Had the pony coming to see her somehow gotten lost in the night, and ended up spending an evening alone in the Everfree? If that were true, she was lucky to be alive crying like that. Luck will only get her so far. As she neared the source of the sound, Midnight slowed, listening carefully, and dodging a patch of poison joke growing on the wreckage of an old log. If this is the pony who was supposed to visit me, she’s way off-track. A quick glance around her told Midnight they were near the old castle, which was miles in the opposite direction of her cabin. She stayed away from here, mostly since it was the only place besides Zecora’s hut that ponies from the nearby town ever visited. Being seen was too much of a risk. “Hello?” she asked, slowing to a stop outside a thicket of sharp brambles. “Is somepony there?” Midnight tucked her tail under her body as best she could, in case the pony could see her. There would be no concealing her other strange details—not the massive scaly wings, not the horn protruding from her forehead that made her almost into an Alicorn. Except that it doesn’t work. And maybe the pony would’ve seen how different she was and end up terrified anyway. Maybe so, but Midnight couldn’t let her run any deeper into the Everfree. Even the old castle could be dangerous, thanks to some of the old magical defenses. Despite the eons, some of them still worked. Whoever was crying stopped abruptly, making a strangled squeaking noise as they did so. That didn’t really sound like an adult pony. It was too high. A grown mare wouldn’t cry like that. “Whoever you are, I’m only here to help you. I know you’re probably lost—I can help get you back to civilization. It’s not safe to be so far off the path, and it will be even more dangerous once it gets dark. You should come with me.” The only reply was the harsh squawking of birds, and the steady hooting of an owl not too far away. Midnight took another step into the gloom, her whole body tensing as she did so. Ready to chase down the pony if that was what it took. I’m not going to let you run away and get yourself killed, whoever you are. As much as Equestrian society had not been kind to her, Midnight Storm wasn’t prepared to just leave a pony to die. “Please, help me find you. It’s a long trip back to Ponyville. I’d really like to get you back before nightfall.” She took another step towards the bushes, dreading what would come next. Unfortunately, she wasn’t just a dragon who could walk straight into thorns without so much as a scratch. She’d have to try and fly over, or maybe cut her way in. But then she heard a rustling sound, from much closer than she’d expected. It was coming from directly ahead of her, in the thickest and meanest-looking of the bushes. Might be the only reason you’re still alive, Midnight thought to herself. The thorns were each as long as her hoof, and poisoned with a venom that could leave a pony itching for weeks if it wasn’t treated. Everfree predators didn’t have terribly good doctors. “Alright, I’ll get you out,” she announced. “Wherever you are, please hold still. I promise not to hurt you, but if you move suddenly, you might get cut by accident. Just stay right where you are.” She lifted her tail again, picked one of the thickest branches, and swung. A precise movement, much more so than what she might’ve used cutting down trees. The blade of her tail passed easily through the branch, and barely a millimeter more. Instead of letting it fall to the ground (and potentially onto the pony hiding inside), she flicked her tail at the last second, sending it spinning off into the air. Midnight could see a dark shape against the trunk of the bush, huddled into the underside where there were no thorns. It wasn’t very large, and seemed to be wearing something black. I was right. That’s not a grown mare. “Hold on,” Midnight said. “I’m going to get you out of there.” She angled her tail again, took careful aim, and sliced another bit of bush away. It only took her a few more strokes to cut away a large enough section of brambles to get a good look inside. The pony wasn’t wearing black, as she’d first thought. Rather, her coat was black, as dark as Midnight’s own. She also had wings, though they were ordinary pegasus wings, not covered in scales. Strangest of all—so strange that Midnight herself stopped to stare—was that she had a horn. This was no kirin, as she had initially suspected. It was an Alicorn. There were only two Alicorns in the world, so far as Midnight Storm knew. None were this young, and none ought to be alone in the Everfree covered with little wounds with a face crusted with dried tears. As she stared, the little pony finally turned to look up at her, and Midnight took in a set of slitted pupils exactly like her own, though they were a lighter shade. They were also patently terrified. “Hey there,” Midnight said, finding her voice much gentler than it had been earlier. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She wanted to lift the little bundle of fur and fear right out of the bushes and get to work getting all those thorns out of her. But she didn’t do that—anything that spooked the little pony might provoke her to try and run, which would require her to go through more of the thorns than had already stuck her. The filly didn’t answer, watching her from within the shadows of the bush. She seemed to be breathing rapidly, but other than that, there was very little sign of comprehension on her face. “I’ve got medicine at home,” she said. “Firethorn is an awful plant, even if the berries are nice in summer.” She would still need a real doctor—so many little injuries like this could still lead to a nasty infection. “My name is Midnight Storm. What’s your name?” Pause. For a long time, Midnight wondered if the filly could even understand her. Maybe she was too hurt, or in too much mental distress to put words together. Shock could do that to a pony, though at least she hadn’t wandered off in winter. “Name,” the pony eventually said. Her little voice was barely loud enough for her to hear. “I am… me.” “Alright, sweetheart.” That was something. If she could understand, that probably meant she hadn’t been poisoned by anything more serious. There were creatures in the Everfree that could kill with a single bite if a pony didn’t get help. “Can you move?” “Hurts,” the pony said, her voice faint. “Tried to. It hurts.” “Alright.” That made sense, considering where she was taking shelter. There wasn’t anywhere for her to move that wouldn’t bump her into the firethorn bush. “I’ll get you out.” She would have to clear a little more space to maneuver the pony, but that wasn’t much trouble. The filly watched with interest as she sliced through the bushes with her tail. There was something missing from her, something she had come to expect in children especially. Fear. This pony had less of a reaction to her than even the zebra. A few more cuts, and she could reach in with one hoof and scoop the pony up. She moved her very carefully, making sure not to touch any of the thorns. Pressure could drive them in further. She moved the filly to a thick patch of grass and moss not too far away, and only there did she set her down. All the while she kept alert for any sign that predators had found the filly, though so far, she heard nothing. Which might be a good or bad thing. Some of the Everfree’s monsters were too clever to make noise. The nameless filly didn’t try to run away, didn’t even squirm in her grip as Midnight set her down. As soon as they were sitting, the filly just held still, looking all around her with an unfocused fascination. Like she’d never seen trees before. Or like a pony who had taken a solid blow to the head. “Now, I’m going to get as many of these out as I can,” she said. “A few look like they need a doctor—but I’ll take you to my friend. She’s very good at this kind of thing. And when she’s treated you, she can get you back to Ponyville. Get you back with your family.” The filly didn’t react to her words, didn’t make any sign that she’d heard them. But as Midnight lowered her head to try and bite out the first of the thorns, she didn’t shy away. She did whimper in pain, making a pathetic mewling sound that was almost crying. Midnight spat out the first of the thorns, the metallic taste of pony blood on her tongue. “There, that one was the worst. Looks like there are only a few left.” She worked quickly, unable to say anything thanks to being busy with her mouth. The filly’s coat was soon stained with a few fresh patches of red—but all and all, the injuries weren’t nearly as bad as she had been expecting. I guess Alicorns are tougher than regular ponies. “There, all done,” Midnight said. The filly had a few more stuck in too deep or too small for her to remove with her teeth—but Zecora would be able to get them out. She would have to clean out all these new wounds before they got infected. “We need to get you to somepony who can help. Do you think you can walk?” Immediately she tried to rise, and almost immediately she fell sideways. “Right. In that case…” Midnight Storm bent down again, scooping up the filly and settling her on her own back, as much between her wings as she could. She could use their pressure to keep her centered, and prevent her from falling off. “There.” She rose as carefully as she could, making sure not to dislodge her passenger. “It’s a little ways away. But she’ll probably have water and food for you as well. Are you hungry?” She felt the pony nod, even if she couldn’t watch her expressions anymore. “Well, let’s get going. The sooner we get you to Zecora, the sooner we can find your family.” She set off back towards the familiar paths she knew, searching the trunks of trees for her own marks as she went. She hadn’t made it more than two-dozen paces before she heard an angry voice shout from behind her. “Stop! In the name of Princess Celestia, remain where you are!”