//------------------------------// // 4. The Twin Goddesses: Part 15. The Everfree // Story: The Wanderer of the North // by Alaxsxaq //------------------------------// 4. The Twin Goddesses: Part 15. The Everfree Tall, elderly trees towered and closed their canopy over the forested path. Boughs and branches curved upwards and intertwined above, creating the likeness of a tunnel through mountain rock. It had been daytime when the two alicorn sisters entered this brooding wood, but one could never tell from the light. A dim twilight crept through the scant breaches in the canopy, adding such a minuscule bright to the trees’ odd glowing fruits, all letting off eerie blue colors. Taberanyn was no stranger to trees. They were pleasant; pleasant to walk under in autumn, to sit under in summer heat. In winter they lit fires without which ponies would freeze to death, and in spring they bloomed with every color under the sun. But these trees were strange. Their trunks were different, their leaves different—even their bark and the way their branches grew was unfamiliar. Barren wood splintered off and curled like sinister clawed fingers, looming over travelers ready to snatch its prey. Some must have stood for millennia undisturbed, moss and mushrooms growing all along the bark. Vines slithered wherever they could, hanging down and prepared to strangle any creature unmindful enough to catch their throats. And the trees were not the only foreboding thing in this Everfree; the underbrush was thick and difficult, ensnared with thorny bushes and great ferns. There were some plants that stood taller than even Nikóleva, and possessed broad leaves lined with small spines, and as one final jest had a single, blood-red flower of decadent beauty. “Do you know where we’re going? I don’t like this place at all…,” groaned Lady Stellara. A pretty flower caught her eye, but she recoiled when it moved and chomped its petals on a passing insect. “I told you; we’re being led through here,” replied the elder sister, eyes narrowed and turned to the dark end of the pathway. All light disappeared not twenty yards further down, a black wooden cave becoming the only sight. The snapping of a twig and the rustling of some leaves caused the blue alicorn to startle, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sister, for having my doubts. This forest doesn’t seem too thrilled to have us as guests. How do you know it won’t lead us into a pit with sharp rocks at the bottom, or…into the den of some vicious beast?” A stray vine wiggled on the floor; Wintermail took care to step over it. “If we treat it with respect…we just might find what we’re looking for. We must show it we mean no harm.” Stellara then remembered the axe she wore and became all the more anxious. The bending and bowing of wood and leaves then clamored from behind, and when she turned to investigate, the path they had just come down was closed, blockaded by a black thicket. Her heart started beating quicker, “So…it is conquer or die now, is it?” Wintermail made no retort. Stellara frowned, not at all inspired by the so-called “dream” her sister had the night before: something about talking to an ancestor long dead and wandering into this primeval forest. The more she gazed up at the ensnaring net around them, the more she cursed her sister’s “visions”; Nikól’s superstitions would be the death of them. Still…it wasn’t as though Stellara had any place better to search for those artifacts. Further down, not longer than half an hour, the two arrived at a small clearing. The sky however still was hidden in the trees, and dark birds cawed from their branches. Cicadas hissed in the young summer; at least the forest kept the hard sunshine and heat off of the ponies. Wintermail though possessed no mind to stop anytime soon, and even so inviting a glade was not worth wasting the time. The Knight had a mission, and it was with no small regard that the sisters searched for perhaps the only hope Equestria had. His Highness had entrusted her with this task, and Dame Wintermail would sooner fall on her sword than disappoint her lord. Then, along the pathway, at the end of the clearing, was the oddest tree either had ever seen, and in the Everfree that was quite the accomplishment. It was tall and nearly bare, save for a mat of moss near its top and two branches with hanging leaves. A thin, gnarled bare branch stuck out, looking almost like it had been broken, and further down more twisted naked branches bent in a grim way. And most peculiar, its bark was not that of oak, or birch, or pine…it was scaly, like a lizard or snake. Stellara allowed her sister to continue while she spared a moment to approach the tree. It had a certain feel to it, almost like it was far older than anything else in the forest. “Perhaps it’s a remnant of Elder Days,” she thought out loud. A snap, a rustle, and a crack came from the tree. And then a raspy, slow, creaking voice replied, “Eldest days…where no memories reach…” Branches moved and bent, with the scaly trunk shifting into a less “tree-ish” shape. The branches touched onto the ground, and the leafy fronds shifted backwards. What finally appeared as the two sisters huddled near one another was a woody pony-shape, specifically alicorn, with leafy wings and a twisted gnarled horn. Stellara was steeling herself, but Wintermail placed a hoof on her sister, “Calm down, Tabóna; let it speak its peace first.” A pale blue magical aura appeared over the silver axe, but Stellara relaxed and trusted her sister, though still keeping a small piece of her mind’s will on the weapon’s haft. “White…pure…patient…,” the tree-pony spoke, leaning closer and leering at Wintermail with dark eyes filled with small golden points. “Birch? Aspen? Sycamore? Wait! You are not trees…” The sisters looked at each other. “No…we’re not…,” replied the Wintermail. The tree-pony backed up, “Well…a fine puzzle! A forest has trees, but if you are not trees, then you two must be forest-creatures!” Its woody mouth curled into a grin. “But wait! Your shapes are not those of squirrels or rabbits or birds…though you remind me of waterfowl,” the creature announced, inspecting Wintermail’s broad white wings. “We are ponies, good sir,” Stellara said. “’Ponies’? Ah yes…I know those creatures; they’ve a fondness for fire and wood.” “That is true, but we are here for neither,” said Wintermail, holding herself with grand poise. “Then why else come into the forest?” the tree-pony asked, noticing Stellara’s axe, “You’ve brought weapons, either to slay trees or beasts. Have you come to make war on this forest? Upon the Everfree?” Slow and plodding though it seemed, a terrible wrath rose in the tree-pony’s eyes. Wintermail stepped forward, “We have come to search for something hidden away in the depths of this wood, something that ponies were given long ago, and have need of again.” “Do not lie, Child. Long ago too were ponies given the vast forests beyond here. I told them they could chop down every tree on the Earth, and reduce everything to a barren landscape, but not the Everfree!“ The scaly tree-pony then furrowed its stiff brow, “Have they done it already? Is this the last forest in the world?” “That was not a lie, and there is no shortage of trees. But one tree in particular holds our interest, and purportedly it is deep within the Everfree, and bears fruit one does not eat but rather…’wield’,” Wintermail explained. “You mean the Elements of Harmony, yes?” replied the tree-pony. It outstretched is hoof amidst the creaking of its bark, “Continue, then.” “So you know where they are! Could you lead us?” asked Stellara, a glimmer in her teal eyes. The tree-pony approached, and placed its hoof underneath her chin, “That is not my place, Child. I am no master here; I merely watch and guard this forest—as much as it needs guarding! The Everfree has no lord but that what planted it; it is generous to its friends, and terrible to its foes. Travel along this path, for you’ve not attempted to deceive.” Wintermail gazed at the dark tunnel, unchanged from earlier, only going deeper into the wood. “Then let’s not waste time, Stellara. What might we call you, Guardian of the Everfree? I should like to thank you.” The Guardian laughed, “Ponies, thanks are not necessary, for your challenges have only begun. These trees will not yield its treasure easily. And for my name…I have none, for none here need call on me with words. I first arose when the trees were very different, when the animals were strange; before this world was mired by the heedless wrath of Gods. But if you should find pleasure in it, I suppose you could call me…’friend’.” The Guardian then smiled as the sisters continued their quest. Stellara spared a glance back at the glade, seeing the forest-fae stiffen and return to a tall tree’s form.Not long after, the forest shifted again and this Guardian was now hidden behind brush, tree, and blackness. The blue mare looked up at her sister, “What do you suppose this ‘forest’ will have us do to prove ourselves worthy?” “If I had my way, we’d slay great monsters! But my gut says it’ll be just the opposite.” The path curved and snaked and coiled about, sometimes in ways that seemed impossible were it not for the ever-changing nature of the Everfree. The hours drew on, the forest road stretching endlessly, its root-laden, leaf-covered way seeming to lead the sisters in circles upon circles. “Didn’t we just pass that tree?” asked Stellara, raising her eyebrow at a sprawling oak. “Hm? How can you be sure?” replied Wintermail, returning to her walk, “There must be a million trees in this forest; odds are two would look alike.” Stellars shook her head, “No, I recognize this one: it has a giant knot in the shape of a pony’s head.” She pointed at the strangely-shaped burl in the wood, arranged just as she described, complete with a long horn-like protrusion for this “tree-unicorn.” Wintermail huffed in frustration, “You don’t suppose this one will come to life too, do you?” “This is simply wonderful! We’ve been going in circles this entire time!” “How can we go in circles? The forest only has one path!” “Then the Everfree is having a grand laugh at our expense,” Stellara groaned. More creaks then echoed from the shadowy woods, trees and bushes slowly creeping to a new resting place. Through the scant gaps in the foliage, a rocky uprising of land could be spotted alongside the shifted road. The two alicorns shared a glance and carried themselves off to continue their journey. This cliff face stretched as far as they could see deep into the darkened trail, looming over the right side like a menace poised to ensnare and forever banish the light from the sisters. The further and further they got, rocky outcroppings started appearing, spikes the forest itself must have used to keep the unbidden out. Ever farther they traveled, and the outcroppings progressively grew until they formed their own roof, and then curved downwards, eventually meeting the forest floor to create a broad cave. It was now far darker than before, the sparse twilight the Everfree had allowed in now barely sneaking through holes in the rock. Wintermail flashed her horn and generated a small golden shimmer from her long horn. Stellara mimicked the action, face pensive and on-edge. Like everything else in this wood, the cave had a will of its own, and did not permit the light to move more than five feet ahead. Both had magic ready to snatch their weapons at a moment’s notice. A faint clicking…a tapping…and then a chirp. Stellara jolted, eyes wide open and scanning for any sign of movement. Wintermail’s heart thumped in her chest, and she drew Eónadin. Pulsing magic through its blade, she attempted to ignite the steel and illuminate the way. A mild shock instead hit her forehead, along with the disobedient thoughts seeming to come from the blade itself. It would appear that her sword agreed with the Everfree. Perfect. Lady Stellara was under no such restrictions, and her sword and axe both lit up with the glow of her horn. Grinding and grating sounds continue, along with a weak warble…almost as though whatever made the call felt…restrained. Weapons at the ready, the sisters moved deeper into the cavern, following the noises. After a short while, they emerged in a larger chamber, illuminated by three glowing blue mushrooms. Each stood over a branch of the cave. “Of course…,” Wintermail muttered, immediately snapping back on guard when she heard that same stunted cry as before. It was coming from above. Stellara and Wintermail backed up and slowly craned their necks upwards and narrowed their keen eyes. The faintest of outlines appeared amid the dim blue light, and steadily grew when whatever it was crept downward. Legs upon legs undulated along the rock, dragging a truly ghastly creature into view. A long, shelly body extended up past their view, but they could see its monstrous head, is numerous legs, and all the spines and fangs it arrayed for cruel torment. It resembled a giant centipede, large clawed limbs boring into the cave walls. Its body ended in a bulbous head, topped with a broad spiky helmet. Two black eyes atop long fleshy stalks stared at the sisters, many slithering feelers around. Tiny pincers and spiny limbs surrounded where its mouth must have been. It cried, a stilted, trapped sort of yelp, a pouch of skin distending out its throat like a giant frog. Surrounding its head were eight limbs arranged to resemble the petals of some corrupted flower. They bent inwards to form a hard cage, perfect for ensnaring and devouring at its leisure. It was too dark to fully tell its color, but the softer bits along its head looked raw and reddish. Its mouth-limbs clicked and twitched, its antennae reaching out for both alicorns. This creature made her skin crawl, and Wintermail raised her blade against this Everfree centipede, poised to slice off its intrusive appendages. It immediately backed up and whined in a low pitch. “Looks like I’ll get what I want after all. I go left, you go right.” “Wait!” Stellara shouted, conjuring up a blue barrier in front of her sister. Wintermail crashed into it and bruised her snout. “What?” “Something’s wrong…,” Stellara began, studying the creature’s face and body language, “It’s backing away…and its eyes…” Wintermail furrowed her brow and watched the centipede. It sounded like it was…whimpering? Like a beat dog… Its many legs crept back, and it lowered its head down in a sort of yielding gesture. “Why is it here?” Stellara thought aloud, “If it wanted to eat us, surely it would have tried further back, where it’d have the advantage of darkness. Instead…it was lurking here, where there is…light!” The blue mare then peered into the creature’s eyes, and could see neither bloodlust nor malice, but fear! She sheathed both her weapons, and bade her sister to do the same. “It’s like a frightened child…all alone here in this cave…,” her eyes then bulged, “It’s afraid of the dark!” Focusing, Stellara sent a burst of magic into her horn and increased her light twofold. The centipede seemed to respond, raising up and chirping. Reaching into her bag, Stellara pulled out a small half-eaten loaf of bread. Breaking off a piece, she ate it, smiled, and then offered another bit to the creature. Undaunted, she allowed the cave animal to outstretch one of its pincers and grab the bread. After finishing, its eyes filled with happiness and it began purring. It pressed its giant head towards Stellara, and she placed her hoof on it and stroked the shell. She then got another idea, and pulled out an empty jar she kept in her pack. Magically she plucked all three mushrooms and placed them within. Ripping off a small length of her cloak, Stellara made the lit-up jar into a necklace and hung it around the centipede. Its face grew as bright as the cavern The centipede warbled again and maneuvered its snaking body in front of the right-most passage in the chamber, scuttling down from the ceiling deeper into the cave. Stellara looked at Wintermail and nodded, following the path chosen by their new “friend”. More forks appeared along the way, but the centipede led the sisters, even waiting if they fell behind. Finally, a light appeared at the far end of the tunnel, and excited the alicorns galloped faster and faster until they emerged into the open air of the Everfree. The centipede crawled out, curling around the sisters and bidding them one final farewell. Evidently as a show of affection, the creature wiggled its feelers around Stellara, cooing as it did. She giggled and lightly stroked the underside of its throat. When both had their fill, the centipede slithered back into its cave, disappearing soon into the darkness. Wintermail gazed over the new pathway, now lined with pretty flowers of green, purple, and blue. The taller alicorn smiled down at her sister, “That was…amazing of you. Mother would have been proud, to say the least.” Stellara leaned into her giant of a sister and let her drape a hoof over the blue pony. Starting again along the road, she saw little changes in the thicket, “How much further do you reckon, Nikól?” “The Everfree is miles upon miles wide, and I’m sure the Elements are right in the center. It’s getting late, but we’ll keep moving for a while yet.” And so they did. Until the road became narrowed by two trees, just wide enough to allow one pony at a time. Wintermail stepped through, Stellara following. Beyond stood bushes ten feet in height stretching in a wide wall before turning abruptly deeper into the woods. The path therefore split and diverged to two branches, and doubtlessly many after those; the Everfree had become a maze. The white sister frowned and spread her wings, lifting off high enough to cruise right above this new labyrinth. Wintermail felt oh so clever as she eyed the very end, but was immediately cowed when a series of vines erupted from the hedge, wrapping around the alicorn and throwing her back down to the ground. A final vine came and swatted her on the snout, causing Stellara to softly chuckle to herself. Wintermail, pride hurt, huffed and drew her blade, half a mind to set the entire forest ablaze with Eónadin’s magic. Finished with the Everfree’s tricks, Dame Wintermail sparked her sword, summoning its latent power; Eónadin refused, and locked this magic. “It would seem, Dearest Sister, that we must treat the forest with respect,” Stellara said with a smug tone. “I don’t wish to see you become a hypocrite.” The alabaster alicorn sheathed her stubborn sword, “Can we really afford to play its games? Night is approaching, and we shall have to make camp soon,” Wintermail continued to grumble, “I’m a knight; all I’m good for is fighting, and this forest will not let me! Every moment we continue with these hindrances is another moment that our Uncle, our Liege, and all his ponies are in peril…” The white mare then let out a deep sigh, “These obstacles were cute before; now they’re starting to grate.” Stellara laid a hoof on her sister’s shoulder, “I think I’m starting to understand the meaning behind all this: we came on the advice of your ‘vision’. And you said you felt the Everfree would ‘show the way’, and that’s what it is doing But not simply by creating a path, but also by leaving…clues. It wishes us to do certain things at certain times, I figure, and here is no different.” “What do you suppose it wants us to do here?” “I’m not quite sure, but I trusted your vision because you’re my sister, and I think I need to trust the Everfree. We both must believe in ourselves and hope our quest will succeed.” Scanning her eyes, Stellara then saw a small yellow-orange fruit hanging at the beginning of one of the branches. Squinting to see clearer, Stellara noticed it resembled the smiling face of a pony of all things! At the other branch was a similar fruit, contorted into a wailing face. “In fact…I think hope and good spirits will takes us exactly where we need to go!” Acting on a hunch, Lady Stellara led her sister towards the path with the smiling fruit. Passing it, she plucked the ripe and juicy fruit from its stem and took a large bite. It was absolutely delicious, sweet and colorful with flavor. With telekinesis the blue mare passed the rest to her sister, giggling as she did. Down the maze’s road, Stellara stopped at each juncture and studied the fruits, following those kept “in good spirits”. No monsters, no pitfalls, no traps, and certainly no vindictive foliage troubled them in the maze. “This certainly seems like a rather simple maze,” commented Wintermail. “It is a different sort of maze, I figure,” Stellara replied, taking a left turn upon the advice of the fruit. The puzzle cracked wide open, the sisters soldiered onwards, inconvenienced if not by winding paths and dead-ends, then most assuredly by the sheer length of the maze. Sunlight streaming into the forest grew longer and dimmer before finally it ceased entirely. Stirred by the coming of night, thousands of points along the canopy and branches shimmered and came to life with cool blues and hot yellows. Mushrooms and fruits and fireflies lit up the nighttime Everfree, creating a hauntingly beautiful picture, the choking gloom interrupted with small islands of warmth and kindness. Wintermail and Stellara emerged from the maze to fully drink in the spectacle, the true show of the Everfree. Neither had words for a time, too busy admiring the form the forest took for its “friends”. They came to a clearing, several downed trees in the middle of the path—perfect for a good seat. The elder sister smirked and slid off her pack. A low grumbling murmured from her belly. “It’s getting late. We’ll need our strength for tomorrow.” Stellara sat down on one of the logs and sighed, feeling relief at her now unburdened limbs, “I could eat, but,” the blue mare leaned in and whispered softly, “I don’t think the forest would appreciate us burning some of it for light and warmth.” Just then, quite likely on cue, a lone dead tree creaked and crashed onto the dirt. Stellara drew her axe and grinned, “Works for me!” A short while later, after Wintermail had arranged a small ring of stones and Stellara lumped some firewood into a pile, the white alicorn sparked a flame and used her clever tricks to hasten the fire. Then, unloading her bag, Wintermail pulled out small wrappings of bread, cheese, fruits and vegetables. Sharing their victuals, the sisters enjoyed the sort of meal alicorns often had to abide in the wilderness, ranging across the vast distances of uninhabited country. “I’ve gotten used to the flavorful cooking of the Castle,” Stellara grumbled at her bland white bread, “Got anything to…spice it up?” “Here…let me see,” Wintermail sifted through her bag, pulling out such items as a small journal, a few bottles of potions, a spool of thread and needle, and a horn-ring she received as a gift on some old adventure. At last she produced a corked bottle filled with a reddish-orange powder. “This might do.” Stellara flared her pale aura and eyed the seasoning. Shrugging she uncorked it and sprinkled just the tiniest bit on the bread and took a bite. A second later her eyes grew big and red, and a searing flame erupted across her tongue. Yelping like a hurt dog, Stellara immediately grabbed her canteen and downed it to the last drop. The feeling of uttermost heat still lingered , in much-reduced form. Her sister, meanwhile, was busy biting her forehoof to contain her raucous laughter. Stellara shot a glare that could freeze dragonfire. “I…er…forgot what exactly that was; I like spicy food, got a taste for it far down south,” Wintermail explained, cheeks rosy. The blue sister breathed inwards and outwards with frantic diligence, trying to cool the heat pricking her lips. Wintermail seized the bottle and sprinkled a measure on her food, smacking her lips just to prod her sister further. The two were then quiet, more concerned with eating up all the night’s rations than in any conversation. Bread crumbs littered by the campsite and apple cores thrown into the woods beyond their fire, both sisters then stretched out and rested on their stomachs, watching the rising flames. The danger of the forest now far from her mind, and allowed a moment to ponder, Lady Stellara soon permitted her mind to drift towards Canterlot, and all the perils that surely must be visiting it. “I hope Henarion is fine,” she muttered, looking pensive and weary. “Same with the Prince,” Wintermail added, “And his family…and my soldiers, and Stormvane, and my little young squire.” “Do I have a squire?” Stellara asked with a coy smirk. “I don’t believe you have had the occasion for one yet. Maybe when we get back.” The younger sister lightly chuckled, but then her smile dimmed against the orange light, “Do you think we will find the Elements tomorrow?” “I certainly hope so,” Wintermail replied, eyes fixed on the fire, “I don’t like being away from the action, or from my Liege, or Canterlot for too long. I hope the situation isn’t too far gone when we return.” “Well…they like to boast that Canterlot has never fallen to an attacking force.” “They claim, Sister. But…the World is different than when those songs and legends were made.” A powerful image of horrors the Wintermail had witnessed in her life, the raids and battles, blood of the young and innocence spilt upon the ground… “When we find the Elements, and use them to destroy Discord…Canterlot won’t ever have to find out again.” The tall white mare then saw the beauty of the nighttime forest, the fireflies flashing and crickets chirping, “And who knows? When this is all over the Prince might give me a spot of land of my own. Now that sounds nice: a good out-of-the-way plot where I can finally rest.” “’Rest’? Dearest Sister, you’re not thinking about hanging up your sword, are you?” Stellara asked almost mockingly. “Well…a break—a holiday, maybe until the autumn or winter. But no…we’re alicorns, and our kind has fighting in our blood. But I think I could use a little peace and quiet; I miss that from my days of wandering.” Wintermail then stared into space, dreaming about greener pastures and warmer faces. Stellara took a twig from the ground and started poking the fire, “You know what awaits you should we succeed against all this.” She trained her teal eyes upwards at her sister, “If we find the Elements, and if Discord can be stopped, and if the unified arms of Equestria can actually defeat this Horde, it will not be over for you. The Prince does not wish to give you land like a vassal; he wants to give you a crown. And then your worries would only have begun.” “Don’t remind me,” Wintermail said, rolling her eyes, “Some days I don’t understand it, and worse some days I almost do! I’m no blue blood, or a high-born. So what if we’re descended from royalty? It has been one-thousand years—odds are at least one king had a line of royal bastards as ‘blessed’ as us.” “Maybe, Nikól. But we happen to not only be descended from kings, but also Alicorns. ‘Gods’ they’ve called—I’ve overheard it.” A twinge of pride perked in Stellara’s heart. Wintermail narrowed her eyes, finding small disturbance with her sister’s words. “They are mistaken. What’s so great about it? The knowledge that we are passed our time, slowly to fade away? Or to make our disappearance as agonizing as possible, lingering on while our friends whither? We’d do better to breed it out; that’d be a mercy.” “Nikól, I’m surprised at you, speaking so grimly! That is your kin you are insulting. You showed me our history, and I recall pride in your account.” “That was before…before I saw the Downfallen,” Wintermail’s face grew sullen, “They were so few, and so…broken. Our days are over, and what’s left…the future lies with the Tulicëai.” “But it doesn’t have to be that way!” Stellara objected, not with much force or anger, but certainly with fire, “After the War, you can lead them to a new home. We can resettle the North, rebuild our cities, and grown in number. We have an ancient heritage, one worth preserving.” Wintermail raised an eyebrow, “So…is that why you’re so interested in Cardúnón? Because he’s an alicorn.” A flash of hear covered Stellara’s cheeks for a moment, “He has…other qualities which I admire besides his…race.” “Like?” Wintermail asked, “He’s pompous and arrogant.” “Confident.” “Boorish and confrontational.” “Assertive.” Wintermail grinned, “And he’s…properly bred.” Stellara’s face grew stern and joyless, “He will not die before my hundredth birthday. You’ve told me about Evergreen, Nikól.” The alabaster mare’s heart skipped, and she became indignant, “Yes, but—“ “He died, aged only sixty-one if I recall the story. I know you loved him, and it must not have been easy for you. But save the heartache, and find yourself somepony who will be able to share centuries with you, and somepony to help you preserve our heritage.” A deep sigh came from the Wintermail’s lips, “You’ve thought a lot about this…” “I’ve learned a bit from the Librarian. He’s told me alicorns with tulicëai produce Half-Bloods, and half-bloods with lesser ponies make more lesser ponies. We lose friends all throughout our lives; it’s natural. But to outlive your own children, your own legacy…could you imagine?” In fact Wintermail could, and she did not like it. Stellara continued, “Spare the grief, spare the sorrow. If you ask me, I say gather our kind, move north and clear it out, and wed to keep our bloodlines so that the Alicorns can stay in this world.” Her melancholy having passed, Wintermail sighed again and laid her head on her forelegs, “In a number of ways, I think your right. Perhaps I’m just being selfish, or afraid of ‘stepping up’. But…if the Alicorns look to me as their leader, then…I must be their leader—for them.” She let loose a sardonic laugh, “Maybe ‘Exilarch’ would suit you better.” A few images appeared in Stellara’s mind, fantasies of repute and power; maybe it would. She cleared her throat, “Don’t tempt me.” Wintermail gave her sister a weak smile, and then looked up at the canopy. The mare made a large gaping yawn, “Well…I’m tired, and we’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Goodnight, Taby; sleep well.” Wintermail then curled her neck around and draped her wings, falling asleep beside the fire. “Goodnight, Nikól.” Stellara opted to lie on her back, gazing up at the trees. She’d fall asleep a little later, after giving slight entertainment to her thoughts over Wintermail’s words. Her sister expressed no desire for a crown or realm of her own, and claimed to not be the “right pony”. And Stellara could not help but realize for just a few seconds that Wintermail may in fact be correct. *――――――――――S――――――――――* The air was hot and still, even here beyond the reach of the harsh sunlight of summer. It was humid too, murderous on otherwise long flowing manes. Wintermail felt it hard, trudging through the Everfree with a tangled pink mess growing from her head. Covered in dirt and grime, laced with sweat for good measure, every few steps she had to bring a forelimb to wipe her brow. The Dame appeared a most ungraceful thing. Her sister was suffering much the same. Cicadas hissed in the trees, while flies buzzed about and constantly irked the two. “What time is it? Feels like we’ve been wandering for hours,” asked Stellara, swatting another gnat. “Hmm…” Wintermail trained her eyes through the thick branches, for some reason expecting an outcome different than every other time she tried to deduce the hour, “I cannot see the sun…” The sky, or what little could be seen of it, appeared dim and purple, almost like twilight. More biting insects zipped around, pining for the succulent blood of the dark blue mare. A swift whip of her tail sent a gadfly careening into a tree. “Where did all these flies come from?!” Wintermail raised an eyebrow, “I think that might be the reason,” she said, now pointing towards the black pools and green scum of a swamp swallowing up the pathway. The white alicorn stopped and grumbled, “Good. On top of mosquitoes and midges, we can add small biting fish and the odd alligator to the mix.” Bravely, boldly taking that first step forwards, Stellara dipped her hoof in the shallow water, “You know, Sister, I’ve heard there are sea serpents here in the Everfree.” “Oh? And how can there be sea serpents in a forest hundreds of miles from the sea?” “Then they are swamp serpents! Honestly, find yourself snared by its tail and dragged to the depths; it’d save me from your pedantry.” Further they stomped through the muck. “It seems like somepony didn’t have a good night.” “No, as a matter of fact, Nikól, there was root digging into my back, and now I think it’s all tweaked.” Wintermail flared up her magic and cleared a few lily pads away, “I could give you a good knock—set you straight!” “Or render me lame.” The elder sister smiled and chuckled at the younger’s expense. By now the water was reaching Wintermail’s knees, and very nearly touching Stellara’s matted chest; fortunate they were so tall, though if conditions worsened they could always fly. But then, as though their thoughts roused the inner spite of the Everfree, a low fog rolled in, wisping off the water. Visibility lessened, first to fifty feet ahead, then twenty, then ten. Wintermail recalled a similar mist she’d endured back west upon the outskirts of Mareposa and groaned, “This again…” “Nikól! You’re blending into the mist!” Stellara shouted, the fog finally settling in as to obscure either from view. “I suppose we’ll travel alone for a time—as the forest wills it.” Wintermail replied with a parching dryness. She was not mistaken; the mist soon cleared, and she was by herself. The water’s edge appeared, tall reeds lining its bank. Trotting out of the swamp, she took a moment to wipe her hooves of all the mud they had collected. And there, past some bushes, Wintermail could hear…voices? No, just one voice, sounding roughly female. Was it another pony? Or a creature unknown beyond this wood? Peering her long neck just above the shrubbery, she found something in the middle. It was shaped like a pony, and in the darkness of night or against the light of the moon one might mistake it for one. But seen clearly it was a kind of its own. Covered in glimmering blue-green scales, the equine seemed almost draconic. Scutes lined its neck and belly, and jutting backwards from the crown of its head were ribbed horns, twisting like gnarled branches. A fiery orange mane trailed the head and neck, curling at the end like rushing rapids. As she breathed out, this creature let loose small wisps of smoke. It was a curious thing, appearing almost like the result of a paring between a pony and a dragon. Was that even possible? Wintermail could hear her mumbling to herself, talking about a gift or something similar. Giving into her curiosity, and summoning her courage, the white mare emerged from her bush and presented herself with a friendly but guarded disposition. “Is something wrong?” “What?” the dragon-pony jumped, seeing a giant intruder encroach upon her land. She arched her back and snarled, lashing her forked tongue and readying to unleash a blast of fire. “No! No you misunderstand!” Wintermail objected, “I overheard you speaking. If you forgive my rudeness, you seemed troubled.” The other creature, the scaly mare, relaxed her stance and sighed. “You gave me a fright,” she replied, voice resembling in clarity and timbre a silver bell. She narrowed her eyes, “You’re an odd one; never seen something like you here before.” “Yes…I’m traveling through.” “Well, Longshanks, you just caught me worrying, as I do, over today. You see it is my granddaughter’s birthday, and I’ve up and forgotten to get her anything!” Wintermail didn’t care for the nickname, but kept her best face, “These things happen—“ “They do to me!” the dragon pony cried, wiping her eyes, “Oh what sort of grandmother can I call myself?” “Perhaps I could help,” Wintermail said, summoning some magic to dig around her pack, “I don’t carry too much with me, but there must be something in here.” A few seconds later she pulled out several golden bits, easily worth a few good days’ wage, “Here; perhaps there is a merchant nearby…” The dragon-pony took the coins and looked at them, “Rather pretty, Friend, but I’m not sure what to do with these.” Wintermail felt somewhat foolish for thinking there were shops and taverns in the Everfree. Taking back the bits, she frowned, “What sort of…er…pony is your granddaughter?” “Oh a real fighter; fire in her blood, there is!” the forest denizen replied with a large grin, “Gets it from me! Why just the other day I had to tell her not to wander into the centipede’s den—she didn’t listen!” The dragon-pony then eyed the Wintermail’s other items. “What about that dagger? Looks right tidy, it does; she’d enjoy it very much!” “This?” Wintermail replied, drawing the small steel weapon. The alicorn eyed the shining blade; she’d long outgrown it, forged originally as it was to be her sword when just a filly. And that dagger too had injured her almost two years before. All the same, however, it was still special. This dagger was made by the hooves of father and daughter. It was filled with memory, kinder and happier times that when idle for too long Wintermail crept back to. To part with it would be to part with a piece of Maiëlindir, an utterly painful prospect. Wintermail sighed, recalling all the times she’d drawn it, all the times it had tasted blood. It was made to be a weapon, so why did it feel…wrong to have sullied it so? But then Wintermail saw the eyes, pleading and hopeful, of the dragon-pony. Wintermail was a mare of means, and could buy or make a new one quite easily. Doubtless Father had forged the dagger with the understanding that Nikóleva would one day need something bigger. A good dagger was useful in the wilds, but she knew some magic spells that could compensate, so why else keep it? Father had left other keepsakes, like Eónadin, his bloodline, his love, and of course her own baby sister. What would he have done? Wintermail had seen more poor, starving children than she cared to count. Everypony deserved a loving family and a warm home, and certainly every foal deserved a nice gift on their birthday. Wintermail sheathed the dagger and smiled, ungirting the scabbard. “It has served me well over the years; keep it clean and sharpened, and your granddaughter might get even better service from it.” The dragon-pony was elated, practically hopping up and down, “Bless you! Please, come to our feast, as my guest!” “I’m afraid I must be rude here; I cannot tarry from my mission.” The scaly blue-green pony nodded, “I understand. Best of luck to you, and if you ever wander here in these woods again, you are more than welcome.” Wintermail gave a courtly bow, and the dragon-pony quickly galloped off towards the bushes and dark trees to some hidden meadow or glade. The thicket returned as soon as she was gone. “That felt good,” Wintermail muttered, seeing the forest road manifest by the will of the Everfree, trees and grasses shifting to allow the alicorn further to her destination. The Elements were close—she could sense it. As could another alicorn, now having moved beyond her own section of swamp. Lady Stellara trotted down a narrow path, all lined with trees worn in deep age. Large knots adorned their rugged trunks, bark flaking off. Branches curved upwards, meeting above the mare and forming a replica of some vaulted hall. Past these arboreal columns, Stellara eventually arrived to a clearing. A palpable mixture of awe, melancholy, pride, and anguish crept into her heart as she beheld a promenade of statuary. “How did…this get here?” she mused, head turning left and then right. Dozens of ancient alicorns wrought of stone stood tall, forelegs raised, either wearing armor and weapons, scepters and crowns, or quills and books. As she progressed, the statues became increasingly worn, the agents of time wreaking their patient fury. Further still others were broken, heads upon the leaves and roots…nameless visages long forgotten. ”Pride swells, cities rise, And noble Kings give way to lies,” a soft, faint voice began to chant. Stellara perked up and scanned the canopy. No movement, no sign of anything else nearby besides the trees. It began again a short while later, ”Fall they must, and fall they do, And turn their hearts from what was true. In the end, against her pains, Mother Earth what’s hers reclaims.” Stellara advanced with a growing sense of dread to find the statues beaten down to their knees, vines wrapping up the legs of the stone alicorns. ”What was stone and glass and metal, Gives way to root and stem and petal.” A bloom of violet flowers sprouted from the cracks in a statue’s pedestal. ”The young become old, And their stories then told. Til voices cannot speak, And the minds that remember grow weak.” The last pedestal was hidden in the grass, buried in foliage and just barely visible—less so as the ruin of ponykind’s greatest splendor. Stellara’s heart sank, filled with a dread she had scarcely contemplated before. An uneasy eye turned to see anything more along the pathway; no more statues, only more forest. A rustling in the trees came, like a swift wind from nowhere, “But one in this fate need not share, The doom of those who need breathe that mortal air. Crownless this wood stands, Since planted by divine hands. Though, a Queen is hoped for, Spoken of in most ancient lore.” Ahead Lady Stellara squinted when a shallow beam of light came and illuminated a lone stone altar. Runes of a bygone age, perhaps even before the Elder Days, were etched upon the rock. On the top sat a sword, a shining silver blade. Its hilt was a milky white, ornamented with emeralds and silver effigies of leaves and branches. Stellara approached and stared at the Everfree Sword, mesmerized by its beauty. The nameless and sourceless voice continued, ”Draw and be named the Queen of Everfree, She who rules the Land of Eldest Tree. Guard our forest, guard our ways, Protect from the fire and wrath from beyond the leys. The specter of ceaseless sleep Shall forever look past you within this keep. Spring eternal, or summer as you will, Winter never to bring its ice and chill. Your mind shall remain sharp and keen, As you become Stellara the Ever-Green!” The midnight mare then crept up the steps behind the altar and eyed that sword with a growing lust and greed. A deep, raw ambition made itself know, and created for its host a great wealth of images. Stellara found herself amidst the white domes and columns of Alícor, presiding over thousands of soldiers in glittering armor. The ancient banners fluttered in the wind, the trumpets sounding for their sovereign, for their Dominion. To her left stood a harbor filled with hundreds of white elegant vessels, sails unfurled and ready to disperse to lands uncharted and unclaimed. The sky was blue, free and full of promise. The sea crashed against the shore, the birds cawed and the fish leapt. And so Lady Stellara envisioned herself at the head of this reborn Alicorn nation, adorned in silver armor like a warrior born of cool moonlight. A crown over the world sat upon her periwinkle mane, filled with jewels from every colony the alicorns possessed. A long rod of iron, gilded at the tip, rested against Her Majesty. A simple knock was tantamount to Divine Will, the surest and most sublime authority of the World. In her waking body, Stellara charged the magic in her horn, ready to draw the blade. “But claim the scepter, claim your prize, Know here a word from the wise, Beyond the girdle, the edge of the wood, Seek to break through if you could, Task come all to naught, For in this net you have been caught. All bonds taken before, Are cut and made no more. Power unlimited, age unending, But your decision is best still pending, For either with virtue or vice, Nothing gained comes without a price.” The voice ceased, and Stellara restrained from even touching that sword. The treasure dangling before her eyes was made less sweet, for to claim her kingdom in the Everfree was to forsake her soul to an eternity within it. Never to leave… And that would mean…Discord would win, wouldn’t he? Without the Elements there would be no hope. Stellara would also turn her back on her liege, on all of Equestria—a faithless display. Breaking her vows, forsaking her bonds…there was no honor in that. Lady Stellara and Dame Wintermail were sent for a purpose, and they would return with a purpose. She would not abandon her country, nor her family. A life with never seeing her Uncle, nor little Eldowas, nor Nikóleva again… But that promise of glory and power...Stellara’s hoof rose, reaching for the sword. A kingdom full of subjects could fill the void, right? A swift knock came, her other forehoof subjugating the first. These thoughts were not her! And they were not welcome! All the gold and crowns in the world could never replace nor break the love she held in her heart. The alicorn backed down from the altar, “I must decline. I have a mission to complete,” she said grimly, almost certain something was listening. The light overhead faded out until a dreadful darkness took over. When light appeared again, it came from behind, where a new path had opened. Lady Stellara adjusted her pack and took a step. She was proud of her decision, and relieved that virtue was stronger than vice this day. There would come a time when this would no longer be the case, but for now she hoped dearly that the forest would “direct” her back to her sister, and they could finally find those Elements and leave. The Everfree may not be trying to physically harm her, but Stellara was more than fed up with the cruel head games it was playing. All along her road she regarded the tree eyes with a great suspicion and anxiety. An hour or so of walking through an eerie gully at last brought the Lady in view of a tall figure. When a fallen leaf crackled underneath her hoofsteps, the shadow twitched, turning its head towards Stellara. A dim yellow glow came from its horn, and so illuminated revealed itself to be who Stellara had suspected. “Nikól!” the blue mare cried, galloping towards her sister, “How was your soul-searching escapade through the untamed wilds of Everfree?” The Wintermail approached, smirking and eyebrow raised, "I wouldn’t say it was ‘soul-searching’, but it was an adventure all the same.” The two alicorns, now side-by-side, continued down the pathway. “It’s not quite over yet,” Stellara dryly replied. Then, a strange sight caught her attention. Normally eye-level with Nikóleva’s chest, the midnight mare was well-acquainted with its usual appearance. “Nikól…what happened to your dagger? A particularly wrathful vine?” Wintermail’s face became just the tiniest bit wistful, “You cannot get something for nothing; I think it was the price the forest exacted—a paltry trinket, in the end, that I can easily replace.” “Didn’t Father help you make it?” “I don’t think anypony would admit to it being their best work. It was terribly balanced and too small; only useful to cut rope, really. Besides, I’m sure it’ll get better use where I left it. What about you? Did you leave something for the Forest to remind you by?” Stellara furrowed her brow and stared ahead, lightly groaning before she replied, “I did.” The landscape soon changed, becoming less choked with foliage and more dotted with white porous rocks—limestone. The terrain shifted from flat to craggy, vines hanging down over the faces of shallow cliffs. And here the path too morphed from rutted dirt to the edge of a small pool, crystal clear and deep. Fish swam underneath while frogs hopped and croaked upon the lily pads, now in full bloom. Overhanging the pool was a large outcropping, the lighting of the rippling water shining on the grey stone. A series of small rocks formed a continuation of the road, snaking across the water to a giant slab of carved limestone. With their long alicorn strides the stepping-stones provided little obstacle to the mares. Wintermail stood on the stone closest to the slab, Stellara on the one behind. It was grand, taller than even the white alicorn by more than half, and as smooth as milk and honey. By ancient hooves it had been polished so bright that they could see their reflections in it; frayed manes and all. On the lower portion of the slab was carved some sort of spell or admonition, written in the elegant script of Alícor. Wintermail craned down her neck and began reading the inscription aloud, “’Der shaideni cadabdasdulím im-ylo, tanh-nhaë-wisan tyl taë-dhéshan, barcedulím deras dirilion héingh-Ngháldu. Tyl héim-vasonemë nor-shai buanilím ylo, dran inashias lylan ronenaïltin.(You who have come here, not by chance but by purpose, have proven worthy by the Forest. Yet to find what you seek here, one last test is demanded.’)” “And what might that be? I don’t suppose it’s spelled out plainly and without riddle,” quipped Stellara. “Doesn’t look like it. ‘Ól nor-súrd, nor-gespi, nor-ainal tam-ipaconiln tuliën. Dyl, cadnandumë rhal-cura-Aundó ronenaïltin. Vali civa dhirila ronenaïlna ronóïn cadabdinilnodë vuira lé-catsindir. Helnatcëai leädulna cylon; barcetilion she myna paliërnilusin.(A mass of flesh, bone, and sinew does not a pony make. A spark, an inspiration from beyond the World is needed. So too do five virtues need a herald to bind them in harmony. Ancient kindred knew it well; show it and the path shall open.’)” “A spark? Like…to light a fire?” Stellara mused. “I think it’s more of a metaphor…like a ‘spark’ to…bring ponies together?” Stellara stroked her chin a moment, “Wait! ‘Five virtues’, obviously the Elements! Now five of them are methods of conduct…and the sixth was…hm…” “Right…almost like it didn’t fit. If I can remember…it was…” The Wintermail was struck by a bolt of clarity, “Magic!” Her long white horn blazed then with the light of all her hope and determination. A hoof held before her face from the glare, Stellara groaned softly, “Are you just going to…blast it with magic?” “You wouldn’t happen to know a spell, would you?” the elder sister replied. The light faded from her horn and she stared at the slab for a time, rereading the inscription. “’Ancient kindred knew it well.’ Maybe…” She then closed her eyes and focused, opening her mind to the boundless potential of creation. A pinch and a narrow ache followed, and when she opened her eyes they were green mixed with that baleful violet shroud. Wincing at the delicate concert of holding the power at bay, Wintermail sent a small trickle of cosmic magic to the slab. It found its mark and wrapped around the edges, glowing bright green and then sinking into the rock. A rumbling occurred, causing debris to fall from above. Wintermail closed her connection to the cosmic well and took flight with her sister as they looked around, anxious for what they had caused. The slab then moved to the left, revealing a doorway. Landing beside one another, the sisters stared and smiled, finally reaching what they’d spent two days wandering around for. Not a moment to lose they galloped inside the cave, anticipating the glorious spectacle of this fabled Tree, said to have been planted by an alicorn King with a seed taken from the first tree grown by the Goddess Harmonia herself. And it did not disappoint. This tree was not made of wood, and perhaps not even of earthly substance. It was wrought of crystal, translucent and pale blue. Its dark roots traveled deep and far, snaking across the cave’s floor. Numerous branches stuck out, and upon them hung the foliage, reminiscent of the weeping willow. But they were not green, rather a cool teal, orbs of fiery white light spaced about them. Bulbs perhaps, autumn flowers yet to bloom. Five of the largest branches all ended with different colors: pink, blue, red, purple, and orange. They were all large crystals, the “fruits” of this subterranean tree. At the height of the trunk, at the central point where the branches fanned out, was a white six-pointed star, the very same upon Canterlot’s banner and Ailéránen’s hilt. The tree shimmered and sparkled by the light of gems set within the cave’s ceiling, appearing more lovely and radiant than any mortal animal, plant or craft ever could. It was something out of dream, a sight of an earlier age, long thought vanished from the Earth. Wintermail’s heart pounded, and she stared utterly mesmerized. “We’ve found it…” “It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined. The finest jewelers in all Equestria could labor for ten years, and still make but a poor imitation of this tree,” Stellara whispered in trance, slowly approaching Harmonia’s Gift. Wintermail sighed, admiring this venerable tree, “Well…they’re real, and they’re all we have against Discord.” “God willing this works. If it doesn’t—“ “We lived good long lives, didn’t we?” Wintermail replied with a biting humor. She fanned out her broad wings and flapped to the first fruit, the purple one. Soon all five had been plucked and placed in saddlebags; the pink, blue, and red ones by Lady Stellara, and the orange and purple by Wintermail. They left their branches with little issue, and even so detached their luster never faded. But the sixth one couldn’t be found. The sisters scoured the entirety cave for that sixth Element, but neither on a branch nor under a rock was any sigh of it found. Wintermail finally turned back to the tree and frowned, mentally knocking herself when she realized. Hovering before the star-spaced “knot” on the tree, she devised a number of tricks to entice the tree to release the last Element. The first worked immediately: touching her lightly-charged horn to the star caused it to rustled and open up, revealing a cavity with the final gem. This one was a bright fuchsia, and unlike the others was shaped like the star it had sat within. The five Elements on the branches all gave off a soft “hum” of magic, an ambient feeling of great power. The sixth, however, was different. Wintermail engaged her aural sense for just a moment, only to recoil at the sheer magnitude. This was the most powerful item in the World—as the old stories went, the most powerful expression of the Alicorn God’s power as could be allowed on Earth. To even look or hold the Element too long would instill a mild discomfort. Wintermail put it away and landed on the ground, seeing her sister preparing to leave. With a long foreleg she pulled Stellara closer and squeezed her baby sister. Stellara hugged back, sharing in the hope, pride, and joy. Equestria’s salvation was near, the promise of a new dawn ever closer. As the two took their first steps towards the cave’s mouth, a series of voices spoke, out of synch just enough as to still be understood. “Take and cast down the Serpent,” the chorus echoed, obscuring its origin—if it had any. “But beware…beware…for they remember, remember the cruel race that took but did not give. Their power flees, little by little, bit by bit, reflecting that race. Harmony they need, perfect it must be…must be.” Wintermail and Stellara shared a glance, both pensive. The voices finished, “Once more only shall they suffer as weapons…thereafter they shall only soothe.” They waited for any more voices to speak, for anymore warnings to come—none did. Anxious, the sisters left the cave and hopped across the stepping stones, past the edge of the pool. The Everfree was kind on the journey back, revealing a straight and easy road back to its boundary. It was dull and ordinary all the way back, so much so Stellara and Wintermail had to invent games and discuss idle gossip to pass the time. But eventually they emerged from the thick brambly mess that was the Everfree Forest. Both were hot, unkempt, tired, and sore from their adventure, but ultimately relieved now that they possessed in their little cloth sacks six of the most powerful and most destructive objects ever made. A primordial god had been vanquished by them, and an entire civilization had been destroyed for their misuse. It was no light burden to wield them, and neither sister was entirely thrilled to be their bearers. But they emerged from the trees with newfound vigor, and fought against the pain and anxiety as they spread their wings and took off towards Canterlot. These six Elements were the greatest and last hope against the encroaching darkness, and it would be a shame to go through all the trouble of finding them just to shy away from their might. That was Discord’s role. As she and Stellara caught the high breeze with their feathers, Dame Wintermail noticed the beautiful but still curious state of the sky—it was twilight. “That’s odd…I swear we weren’t in the forest that long; it should only be midday…”