//------------------------------// // Legacy of Everfree: A Hearth's Warming Tale, Part 1 // Story: The Bridge: A Godzilla-MLP Crossover // by Tarbtano //------------------------------// It seemed like a good idea at the time. The night was clear, safe time of year, and she stuck to the trail. Or at least she'd done that last part for the first 20 minutes before getting distracted by trying to get a clear view of the stars. Not her fault all the trees in the way obscured them, causing her to walk off the beaten path for an indeterminate amount of time. That had been almost half an hour ago and a 10 year old mind can only be so occupied by the pretty constellations and milky way for so long. It was now that the little girl, bundled up in her jacket and knit beanie hat was beginning to grasp how lost she was. It was cold, and despite the full moonlight the thick canopy made it very dark, so dark she couldn't read her little compass even if she knew exactly which way it was back to camp. Even for a rather mature-for-her-age 10 year old, it was completely forgivable that despair started to settle in after another half hour of trying to find a trail. Her legs were tiring out and her jacket wasn't staving off the cold quite as much, allowing it to begin to trickle in like chilly tendrils reaching through the fabric. “Heeelllooooo?!” The night gave no reply. “Heeelllooooo?! Momma? Papa? I'm over-” She squeaked and covered her mouth when the yapping cry of a coyote or wolf echoed across her ears. The little girl whimpered, removing her beanie and stuffing it into her mouth to keep from making any loud noises out of distress on any impulse. Her bicolored purple and pink hair cascaded down her face to wreath it, though she shivered more from the cold air nipping at her scalp now. Flickers of light shone in the darkness, but just as she tasted a rush of elation that it might be someone with a pair of flashlights come to find her, the lights blinked. Glowing eyes. Not just eyeshine, but actual eyes emitting light themselves. The green-hued embers blinked again, shifting in motion to waver slightly back and forth as they grew; indicative of their owner slowly walking forward closer and closer. Wysteria shivered, cold snaps beyond just temperature alone racing up and down her spine. She tried to look away or close her eyes to break the paralysis, as if not seeing it would somehow mean whatever it was approaching wouldn't see her either. But she was too frozen and rigid in fear to do so, helplessly observing the outline of a thick mane of hair and a tall body move between the shrubs and tree branches without any obstruction. Almost like whoever it was phased through the foliage in the manner of a phantom. Just as they were about to step free from the shroud on the last set of trees, a third flicker of light appeared below in between their orbs. This one was multicolored, though the individual hues blurred together into more of a white glimmer than a rainbow. Everything paused. Wysteria stopped shivering and the entity stalled in place. There was a slow wind, barely more than a breeze that passed from behind and past the shrouded phantom to the little girl. Despite the winter season, which was chilly even with the light snow, this breeze was strangely warm and comforting. Comfort, that was a really good word to surmise the feeling passing over the 10 year old. For some reason, she felt... calmed, as the jingle of what sounded like wind chimes played around her. The entity seemed to notice it as well, shifting in a way that it became obvious the third glow was a necklace of some sort, given a hand cast itself before the illumination and held it up. It looked at the necklace and then to the young girl. It, though for some reason Wysteria had the odd sensation they were female, stared at her for a good minute or two as wind chimes 'spoke’. Wysteria saw her nod before very slowly stepping forward. The darkness and a little girl’s weariness made it hard for her to distinguish many of the woman's features beyond outlines and silhouettes. But what she could see what's a unique mixture of beautiful and eerie. A lean human form broken up by pieces of foliage. Eyes with blackened sclera encircling glowing green irises and yellow pupils looked down at her. They opened a bit wider, relaxing after studying the child. A hand was extended and Wysteria looked it over. It clearly was a human, a woman’s hand, and at first she thought they were wearing some kind of opera gloves. But closer inspection in the pale silver slivers of moonlight revealed the odd coloration to be wood. What seemed like oak bark and wood grains perfectly contouring to the shape and subtle movements of a human arm and hand. It went up to her elbow before revealing a bit of bare, human skin that was shrouded in the rest of her attire. Slowly but surely, as Wysteria noticed tiny subtleties from campfire stories about her forebearers Spice and Dove, she recognized who it was. A mane of leaves encircling her neck, a gown constructed of interwoven ferns and smooth wood fibers, several branches forming a crown of sorts that erupted from her now subtly glowing, long dark hair that flickered with the dim illuminations of aqua and crystalline amethyst. The Legend of the Everfree, Gaea. Gaea Everfree recognized several things about the child, even before recalling the details of her predecessor’ tale of striking a bargain with the founders of this camp. If her observations about the camp and vague personal memory were right, this was Spice and Dove’s granddaughter. But there was something else, something far more important. The geodes she wore around her neck, of which she retained, were responding to Wysteria’s presence. -Could it be time?- She checked again, looming over the child who’d not taken her hand yet and pulled up her necklace. The geodes, usually stashed away out of view under her leafy mane, all glimmered slightly in their protective housing of vines and leaves. But they all glimmered, none of them especially activated. -Hm, receptive, but not acceptive. Not a bearer.- She pulled the necklace away and looked at the child. -The next retainer then.- Wysteria tilted her head slightly when Gaea Everfree pulled out the necklace and confirmed its existence. Grandma Dove never mentioned she had one in the stories, and a few details were a bit different. Dove always said Gaea seemed to sprout from the ground like a mobile plant on roots, but Gaea seemed to have defined legs under a dress no one could miss. She also didn’t have the pale face, instead, she had pale green skin and a dark mask of dull red around her eyes. She looked more… human, for lack of better terms, than Wysteria had imagined. -Maybe Granny just got a few details off?- “Are you lost?” Wysteria paused and was hit with a minor stupor, realizing Gaea Everfree was talking to her. Talking in a very warm, soft voice she wouldn’t expect of a forest nymph. Wysteria nodded without thinking about it. Gaea responded by crouching down more and extending her opened hand further. “Let’s get you back to your family, child.” With some hesitation to weigh her options, Wysteria cautiously took the hand and let its fingers curl around her’s. Despite the woody texture, they flexed and shifted with the subtleties of flesh. Gaea Everfree stood up and started off in a direction at a slowed pace, so the child’s shorter paces could keep up. They walked on for some time, Wysteria sometimes stealing glances to her company whenever they passed into some more illuminated spots of the forest where the moonbeams pierced the canopy. She was far less terrifying in appearance than the stories made out, even if still uncanny in more than a few ways. It was odd to consider and she wasn’t quite sure why she thought so, but she got the sense that Gaea was of advanced age. The slight crinkle in the leaves on her mane, a few wrinkles in her face, and a bit of roughness in the wooden vine coiling around her waist. But she soon found it hard to observe much of anything as the cold bit into her arms and legs again to numb her toes. “Brrr…” she shuddered and rubbed at her held arm to try and ebb the numbness away. “Are you cold?” Trying to keep her teeth from clacking, Wysteria nodded, “A-A-Aren’t you?” “I’m resistant,” Gaea clarified as her necklace flickered a bit brighter under her mane. Wysteria tried to watch but she stumbled and would have fallen due to her numb leg had a set of arms not caught her. She was slowly lifted up, brought up against a chest and shoulder with a warmth flowing over her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it was coming from the necklace pressed up against her shoulder as Gaea held her. It banished the cold, but the weakness didn’t fade. Looking ahead warily, Wysteria glimpsed something that made her heart soar. The illuminated cabins of Camp Everfree, home. And true to her word, Gaea Everfree was carrying her towards it. She tried to gaze at it longer, but her eyelids felt so extremely heavy. A hand brushed her head gently. “Rest. The cold won’t be a problem.” There was a magic in those words, figurative and literal. Wysteria felt her eyelids lowering as another whisper came to her. “Your time will come, eventually.” Her parents found her, safe and sound at their doorsteps after a series of knocks. =============== 1 Year Later =============== Wysteria stopped her bike on the side of the rural road and checked her map for the fourth time to ensure she hadn’t overshot it, thumbing through the notes her mother left her. A quick glance was given to her surroundings, seeing the bridge about a kilometer ahead along with a bend in the road which would indicate she’d gone too far. A look behind her confirmed the existence of a particular white-barked oak tree looming over the side of the pavement. Two landmarks she was supposed to be in between, but closer to the oak tree. Which meant… “Ah!” she squeaked to herself as she changed course towards a section of the road, kicking off the ground and biking towards a barely noticeable dirt path. The path had obviously not been used much over the years, much less recently. It seemed like it might have once been used by a car but not for a long time given the shrubs on either side had grown out over it. She could barely fit her bike into it. The dirt path, half grown over with uneven grass and bits of clover, was very long and winding, Wysteria coasting through most of it given it was all down hill. After a good minute or so, the foliage finally broke and she was greeted with the sight of an aged, worn, small house built into the clearing. The old styled mailbox once had three letters but the middle had fallen out, being legible still due to the way the paintless wood had aged. It read ‘Shy’ and in some ways that fit the occupant of the dwelling. An old recluse her parents knew well by the name of Mrs. Posey. Wysteria wasn’t very sure about the situation, though her father had vouched for her character when she’d come to Camp Everfree to ask about posting a job offer. Apparently she and his family went far back even before her husband had passed and daughter moved to town for work. There was a car behind the house, but given the tarp covering it was layered with multiple strata of leaves and dirt that had some greenery sprouting from it; Wysteria got the sense it hadn’t been fired up in months. -Mom said Mrs. Posey liked to be left alone, she’s the last private landowner in Everfree beyond the camp. Guess that rumor from school about her living in the woods was right.- She stifled a shiver as she biked around to the front of the house. -Let’s just hope the part about her being a witch isn’t. Remember though, don’t go inside until Mom and Dad catch up.- Her parents were about 10 minutes behind her and evidently her father used to visit often in his youth so he knew exactly where Mrs. Posey lived. Was a big reason he proposed to her she take up the job offer, along with encouraging her to get out some more. As she rounded the bend however, she couldn’t completely smother the worry she’d find an old crone with a hooked nose and pointed hat looming over a book or cauldron awaiting her. Instead however, she was hit in the face with the scent of fresh tea. The porch was worn, but well kept despite the vines growing over the support beams made of old earthy wood planks broken up by occasional slabs of masonry stone. And sitting on a rocking chair with a small table and second chair across from her was an kindly looking matron. Mrs. Posey, for who else could it be, smiled warmly at her new company, a book in her lap and cup in hand. She easily looked only twenty or so years older than her parents, but her father had vouched she was well into her 70s. Long pink hair set in a simple braid had begun to gray noticeably, but still had some bright hues to it. She wore a simple working dress and apron, which between that, some wrinkles, and her circular reading glasses gave her a definite ‘Grandma Classic’ look even if she didn’t look advanced into her elderly phase just yet. “My my you’ve grown,” she chuckled with a strangely familiar warmth coming through her voice, “Hello there deary.” Wysteria blinked in a bit of a stupor, not just at how Mrs. Posey definitely didn’t sound like a witch, but also at a warm sensation in her voice. It wasn’t like it was an affectioned voice she recognized, as evidently she’d only met this woman when she was extremely young, but there was something uncanny to it. She wouldn’t quite lay a finger down on it as she puzzled briefly. “Would you like some tea? I believe your parents are still a few minutes out.” Mrs. Posey’s question pushed Wysteria out of her mental funk and she found herself nodding before really wondering why. Something about the old matron’s presence was bringing her comfort but she wasn’t sure why still. There was a slight shift in the wind, a breeze passing between the two of them as Wysteria approached. Both froze up for the briefest moment. Wysteria found herself looking away from the house’s attic without knowing why her eyes had been drawn to there, looking about for the source of the noise she just heard. -Was that a wind chime? Does she have it out back?- In her confusion to try and spy the chimes as she sat herself down, Wysteria never saw Mrs. Posey smiling behind the cup she sipped from. =============== 10 Years later =============== An older Wysteria retraced her mental steps and paused her bicycle ride down the old parkway road, flanked on either side by towering pines, checking the map taped between her handlebars to recheck her route before spying a dirt path diverting off the pavement. Following along the surprisingly long trail, which seemed to have tire marks worn into the dirt, the overgrowth on either side was so thick one still wouldn’t have seen the house from the road had they not known it was there, the lodging laying a full 200 meters off the road and at the end of a winding path. Even with her experience and Mrs. Posey or her using her old car a few times over the years, the nostalgic path was still hard to spot. The house was as it always was even while it stood empty, barely more than a cottage. It was still just as homely but also homey all at once without the company. Not a paint chip to be seen with earthy wood composing parts of it along with masonwork on the other portions. One story with an attic, vines had overgrown part of the walls and the lawn was dotted with wild flowers and fallen leaves. It had been a month since Mrs. Posey had passed away. Wysteria could briefly felt a twinge of sadness at not seeing the nice old widow waiting for her at the porch, often with tea or a conversation on hand while being ready to receive the errand she’d sent the teenager on. Wysteria sighed a bit heavily, imagining the phantom with grayed pink hair and wide glasses sitting at the porch to keep her company. It had been nine years since she met the elder recluse, Mrs. Posey having come to the camp to ask if she could post a notice about wanting a hired helper to drop in every few days to do some odd jobs. Wysteria’s parents knew her well, evidently she’d been a close friend of her father’s mother, Dove; almost like a little sister. Which, in a roundabout way, somewhat made her like a grandaunt to Wysteria. Given familiarity, lack of potential danger, close proximity to home, and her own willingness to help, she got the job and had kept at it through the old woman’s failing health. When she saw Posey laid to rest to join her husband, she hadn’t expected a letter from the old matron a month later. It had been a week since any might have taken an interest in her house, little interest as there was. Some things left to friends and family, most of the valuables taken away. The will stated Posey wanted her house to stand as it was and let it be reclaimed by the forest unless her children wanted it. Knowing how much of an herbalist and recluse Posey was, her daughter had opted to let their mother’s dwelling lay abandoned. Which made it all the more confusing to Wysteria when the posthumous letter she got included two keys and the deed to the house with legal bindings in her name should her family not claim it. Twenty years old and she owned a house… She cringed at hearing the timbers creek from the breezes as she opened the front door. “Home ownership… yippie,” Wysteria muttered to herself lowly as she stepped in. The interior without Mrs. Posey to warm it by presence alone or a lit fireplace created an eerie look about it. The windows half overgrown with leaves and vines, no interior electricity to light anything, most of the furniture gone, and the carpet removed to expose the old wood planked floor which creaked at every step. With a dwelling like this and her reclusive nature, there was a reason the other students at Canterlot High had a running rumor Mrs. Posey was some kind of witch. Wysteria checked the letter again for instructions. ‘The second key is to a chest, it’s in the attic under some boards. You’ll know it when you feel it.’ She eyed the darkened staircase as she drew up and clicked on a flashlight, holding it before her to light up the dusty, aged steps she ascended with the hope they wouldn’t break still in the back of her mind on every stride. All her time here, she’d never been up in the attic before. Despite knowing how kind and calm Mrs. Posey could be, knowing her chiefly as a sweet old lady who liked to plant wildflowers and read books on sleepy afternoons, little embers entailing rumors of sorcery and potion-brewing couldn’t be fully stifled. What if she opened the door to find runes painted into the floorboards or a massive cauldron tucked away in a corner? Her hand fell upon the attic latch and she hesitated to draw a breath. -Well, only one way to find out…- It was surprisingly anticlimactic upon entry. The attic looked basically as she’d expect any abandoned one to look like. Dusty in more than a few places, some cobwebs, a stained window with a crack in it, and most of the boxes or cupboards removed with slide marks on the floors. Wysteria bit her lip as she cast the flashlight beam around the room before her, looking back at the letter to confirm the wording. -I’ll know it?- Her brow furrowed as she looked at the dozens of floorboards, all which looked completely indistinguishable from each other in a sea of dusty, cracked, old wood. She scoured about for several minutes but had no such luck. She couldn’t see anything. Wysteria huffed and checked the letter again, hoping to find some clue as to not have to spend an entire day or more checking every single floorboard to find what it was Mrs. Posey was on about. There was a temptation to give up if she had no such luck, but she smothered it. Mrs. Posey had filled her childhood and teenage years with lovely advice and good conversation about topics ranging from helping her in biology class to helping her find her boyfriend. The least she could do was honor this last request, especially if she’d gone to the trouble of leaving something for her. -Evidently something she didn’t want others to have though, not even her kids.- A troubling thought to a degree, but she did her best to ignore it for now, mostly just hoping someone didn’t stumble upon whatever it was that was up here by chance. Her eyes retrained upon a word Posey left. -’Feel it’...- She puzzled, closing her eyes to mull over the thought as to question how she was supposed to do that exactly. The answer came with a sound. A breeze blew through the attic despite the lack of open window, pushing onto her back in a specific direction. There was a sensation there, almost overpowering. A nudge on her back more than just the breeze should have been. The chimes, they got louder, audible between her ears. Wysteria found herself compelled towards moving. She considering resisting the growing feeling at first, but there was something to it. Something familiar to an experience lodged in the back of her mind’s eye. After some hesitation she again closed her eyes and let it come to her, stronger this time. Steps were taken without conscious thought, almost like she was sleepwalking. Active thought wasn’t a factor as she slowly followed the push and pull, guiding her towards something like a magnet pulled to another. The sensation paused and seemed to leave her for a moment, causing Wysteria to crease her brow in confusion. The chimes, they called to her again briefly, plainly. A single question. A call for help. Wysteria found the sensation again and this time, she recognized it from a dim memory a decade old. One from a frightful, yet fateful night in the woods. In the vagueness of memory, she’d forgotten it. The logic her parents suggested, was that some good samaritan hiker or drifter had came across her sleeping, and she dreamed of an entity of folktales and campfire stories taking their place to cope with the fear of getting lost. Perhaps they were wearing a funny-looking coat and had branches stuck to them, which she mistook for a floral attire in the darkness? But this feeling was warm. The same warmth she felt when her rescuer had pulled out a necklace before her. A similar warmth, now that she remembered it, she got from being around Mrs. Posey. She gave her answer. “I accept. I’ll help...” Her hands acted on impulse, pulling aside an otherwise nondescript floorboard to reveal a lockbox underneath. Eyes glazed over in visions of the past, dreams having turned out to be realities as the chiming showed her the truth. Wysteria fished out the key and put it into the lock. It clicked open and she felt the same warmth again as the trance faded away. Snapped back to awareness, Wysteria found herself back in the past, back in the forest a decade ago. Staring back at her was Gaea Everfree’s necklace. Only this time the set of geodes wasn’t on a vine-built chain as they glimmered back at her from within the case, resting atop a small handwritten book. Awe and bewilderment took hold of her visage as she slowly picked up the crystals and small diary, gawking at the former especially. A thousand questions flashed through her. She really hadn’t dreamed her rescue up? There really was a Gaea Everfree? Where was she? How did Mrs. Posey get her necklace? Why give this to her? What was that voice in the chimes? What was- She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, steeling her fraying nerves to control her spiralling mind. -Books are meant to be read. If Mrs. Posey wanted me to have this, she obviously wanted me to read this.- The warm, inviting geodes were very hard to take her eyes off of, demanding attention with the promises of something wondrous. If minerals could emote, they almost seemed… jubilant, that she had found them. The echoes of the chiming came back, ushering a pleased sensation she couldn’t help but emulate. The magical crystals, for what else could someone like Gaea Everfree own, were at least benign and not like a certain dark lord’s ring from a book series she liked. She paused briefly to ponder how quickly she’d come to accept magical jewelry as a real thing, but shrugged. -Side effect of swearing up and down to mom and dad I saw a wood nymph as a kid for years until the ‘drifter’ excuse kicked in I guess- Elated as she was, Wysteria managed to slowly put them back down in the box and shut the lid to be free of distractions. Nodding to herself alone, she opened the diary to a page dated roughly a decade ago. ‘Dear Wysteria,’ She couldn’t help but perk a brow at why it was addressed to her so long ago, and the writing didn’t look like it was added after the fact. She knew of Mrs. Posey a decade ago, but they’d hardly interacted. It was a year after they became better acquainted. Intrigue bubbling up, she read on. ‘As I write this I hope you have recovered well from your experience. I expected to just lend some help after you’d fallen asleep but something was different. There’s something special about you, Wysteria, something I have had too since I was your age. I was only fifteen when I realized what it was, but I hope I can shoulder this burden longer for your sake so you don’t need to take it until you’re older than I was. I’m getting up there in years, but I can manage. I’ve known of you since you were a baby, but I never expected this link to be the case.’ Wysteria tilted her head as she was drawn in more and more. A possibility was trickling in. One that seemed so impossible she shoved it away, hoping the next lines would clear things up. Instead, they bluntly stated something so jarring she couldn’t hope to reject it. ‘I am Gaea Everfree, or ‘was’ eventually. I’ve already suggested to your parents that a reclusive hiker came by my home the same night to ask about you. They’ll tell you he saved you. But if any doubts linger in your mind by the time you read this, hold the crystals and feel. The chimes will tell you the truth. It was me. Gaea is me and I know you got a good look at how I appeared, even if it felt like a dream.’ Wysteria’s head slowly shook in a stupor. Mrs. Posey… was Gaea Everfree. The nice old lady who pretended she was nearsighted to get her to come close enough to share some tea and gave her dating advice to get her shy crush to open up to her, was the spirit of Everfree. The Witch of the Woods, the forest nymph, the nature avatar. It was almost impossible and yet, as she remembered the warmth and magic radiating off Gaea that fated night she was held in the legend’s arms and recalled the embers of that warmth every time Mrs. Posey spoke to her… Somehow, part of her always knew. ‘I’m writing this diary because I came to know something new the chimes told me. There must be someone to retain these geodes to keep them safe and do some good, for why I’ll get into later. But for now, that job is mine. But one day, it’ll be yours until you find a successor. I am Gaea Everfree, retainer of the Elements of Harmony. I was fifteen when I met the last one, whom your grandparents met.  She was actually a florist named Blossom but she was well before your time. But, just as it fell to me to be Gaea, one day, maybe when you’re reading this, it will fall to you. If you accepted, that is.’ Wysteria’s eyes drifted to the geodes briefly before going back to the aged pages of the book. 'I won't plant any seeds to see if you’re the one until you're settled. An old woman like me could use a hand around the cabin, I don't risk taking on the form of a woods spirit except at night. Too much attention. And you don't want that. It'll help me keep an eye on you and ensure the chimes chose right. If not, hide the crystals and never speak of them again. Trust the right person will find them. If you accept, you cannot tell anyone. This power is a blessing to grant abilities above humanity and a duty to guard them until it is time to find the bearers, because if abused it could strike back, warp the mind and do terrible harm. If you accept again, turn the page and hold the crystals over the paper, don’t let them go.’ Wysteria turned her attention to the geodes and slowly curled her fingers around them. A warmth brushed up against her digits and she bit her lip in a moment of final contemplation. “I confirm, I accept.” The warmth rushed through her and she could sense things she thought she couldn’t have ever experienced before. The darkened attic became illuminated briefly by eyes that could pierce the shade, she could feel the vines outside like they were extensions of her body; and surges of emotions and experiences flashed through her mind. Each of the crystals lit up in sequence. Kindness to others, generosity to give, loyalty to hold, honesty to cleanse, laughter to bring joy; all feeding into and forming magic. Before she could be fully aware of it, the crystals were around her neck in a necklace chain made of vines and flowers. Wysteria let the new addition be cradled in her hands, eyeing it and then the seemingly blank next page. Seeing no other option, she brought the crystal to the paper and let her eyes widen at the crackles of energy and illuminating sparks that jumped from it onto the pages. Glowing text wrote itself across the parchment, like previously invisible ink letting itself be known. ‘Use my home to practice until you get the hang of this. Some things just can’t be explained but I’ll do my best to leave you notes on how to do this right, successor.’ =============== ‘Magic in this world requires a lot of focus. It’s like flexing a muscle or keeping an aim. It’ll get easier, even unconscious with time. These powers are for the bearers but we can at least tap into each as long as we understand the elements the way they’d come naturally to a bearer.’ Wysteria stood in the meadow outside the house, the diary at her feet resting atop a rock as she loosened her body up. “Okay, key in on what the elements represent and it’ll help,” Wysteria muttered to herself, parroting the words Posey had left behind. She held up her necklace and muttered to herself, thumbing over the various elements and stopped at the pink colored one, “Laughter seems straight forward enough.” She thoughts about everything from Chaplin movies to funny home video shows, but nothing seemed to bite. A quick consultation of the diary confirmed what she was doing wrong. ‘Laughter isn’t just the act of laughing, but the intent. One can laugh at someone for malign intent. The Element of Laughter is about what benign laughter does, not what it is. It breaks down barriers, stops tension, and opens up common ground by the act of sharing or giving laughs.’ Wysteria thumbed at her chin as she poured through her memories for something that fit the criteria. -Break down barriers….!- It came in a flash. A school lunchroom about five years ago where a taciturn teenager she’d written off as borderline creepy tripped into her and ended up spilling his and her lunches all over one another. She distinctly recalled looking at him as he scrambled to get off of her, gravy covering half his face as hers was caked in a pizza.  Frantic apologies got exchanged, followed by reassurance the other had nothing to be sorry over, before delving right back into apologies. It was the first words ever spoken to one another in years. They’d both ended up busting a gut laughing at how ridiculous they were in action and appearance. He’d been a stranger a year ago, he was her boyfriend now. The element glimmered; the memory was warm, the memory was strong... Almost as strong as the roots and vines that burst out of the ground under her feet and caused Wysteria to yelp as she was thrown into the air and fell flat on her face. Wysteria groaned and propped herself back up on an elbow, blowing some grass and clover out of her bangs. She looked back and gawked at the root tendril spiraled out of the ground for a moment, shaking her head before acquainting her face with her palm. On one hand, she’d just done freaking magic!... On the other hand she knew what clover tasted like now. Not a very glorious start to be sure. The book flopped over in front of her, coincidentally landing on a side note to the page she’d been on. Wysteria parted the fingers covering her eyes to peak at it. ‘Might need some help tuning yourself to the magic at first. Maybe try dancing, singing, or at least humming.’ Wysteria, who’d just taken about several second of air time getting launched up several meters, grumbled, “Oh, now you tell me?” =============== ‘Laughter’ Wysteria yipped as she, now sporting a football helmet, was sent airborne again by a set of roosts erupting from the ground. ‘Honesty’ Recollection of how an admission of feelings went on a date set to some calm humming resulted in Wysteria having to frantically duck due to the nearby trees doubling in size. ‘Loyalty’ Memories at how an opportunity to try ‘someone’ new being flatly rejected during her boyfriend’s overseas training were cut off, as was her song, when the clover around her turned into a mass of vines that spurred her to squawk and jump away. ‘Generosity’ Babysitting Celestia and little ‘Woona’ despite the chance to go out with friends was a pleasant time to remember, but she had a feeling the observation the ground she’d stood on was now a 4 meter tall tower of wood wouldn’t be. ‘Kindness’ At the barest minimum she could mark this one down as a draw given the experience of giving the campers a fun field day and the lovely song she sung remembered it was just as good as the shock of finding it was now raining was strong. ‘Magic’ This song was slow, gradual, and calm. She kept the pace consistent and held her hands in orbit around the necklace. It was winter now, but she was beginning to no longer feel the cold even as her closed eyes left her oblivious to what was going on. She just focused on what she was doing and the heat the necklace was giving off. Months upon months of practice, and it all came to this. The soloist choir was beautiful even if she wasn’t an especially talented singer, accompanied by a breeze one could hear chimes within. Wysteria’s hair rose up on its own, pinks and purples trickling away into spans of luminescent greens. A cape of interlocked ferns and leaves appeared across her neck and back, flowing in the low wind as gloves made of wood fibers phased into existence on her forearms. A flower dotted vine encircled a green dress, a gem studded band wrapping around the crown of her head. Eyes slowly opened, a mask of deep, rosey red encircling seas of black sclera and emerald green eyes. Wysteria gawked and touched at her face as she gazed into the icicles hanging off the cottage roof. Despite having previously been knee deep in snow and wearing fifteen layers of clothing, she barely felt any chill despite the fact she was in a simple dress with plenty of skin showing. Gaea Everfree, similar but different from the one of her childhood, gazed back at her. =============== ‘Remember, this power can be a great boon to the world if it’s used right, both during our time as retainers and when the bearers are found. But, there are dangers. Some real rotten humans in this world might lie, cheat, steal, and worse to get those crystals. You must keep them and the forest meant to house them safe. Because there might be more than just humans out there to worry about. If magical crystals and forest nymphs are real, what else is out there?’ In the frozen wastes of the polar sea, ice started to chip. Then it cracked. And then it shattered. Something sensed a familiarity. Two more figures ripped their way out of the icy tomb they’d been imprisoned in. They stood tall on gaunt, unnaturally long legs as the arctic winds roared all around them, joined by an unnatural gale. A nearby, curious polar bear made the mistake of looking at them. The great beast which could casually bathe in the polar sea waters and stride through blizzards felt a cold, a biting cold that tore through it. It barreled away in a frantic retreat to get away from them. They looked to one another, frostbitten arms pointing southward towards the source. It might take years for the journey, but they leapt into the frigid waters without pause. They sunk hundreds of feet to the bottom, not paying the pitch blackness under the ice any heed as they started the long march. They’d sensed what happened, their master managing to interfere with their banishment so they'd end up here. They’d sensed its first awakening hundreds of years ago, but finally the spell holding them had broken. And without their master’s rival noticing no less. Perfect. Harmony’s magic had banished them. And Harmony’s magic would die for it, however many years it took for them to hunt down the source without her noticing them. Boreas, Zephyrus, and Notus idly wondered if they could have as much fun in this world of dormant magic, a world largely lacking the tools to fight back against them, as they had at Mako.