//------------------------------//
// Chapter Eight 
// Story: Peace Petal goes to Bridlewood Forest 
// by Peace Petal 
//------------------------------//

I finally stepped out of the hospital into the open air. It was a hot, sunny day. Light trickled through the thick canopy of Bridlewood Forest. The lighting was made more mellow by the pink and purple shades of many of the leaves. Birds sang, and unicorns went about their days quietly. All the different trees, shrubs, and forbs caught my eye, but I had something else on my mind. What had I left behind in my hotel?

Izzy had brought me my scriptures, which had been great. But I hadn’t asked her to sort through all my other books and figure out what was what. “Hello, Peace,” an elderly stallion said as I passed by. My glasses still hadn’t arrived, and I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Hey, there,” I said with a nod, trying to fake recognition. The other pony kept on trotting, and so did I. That memory wipe was going to be even more annoying now that I was out and about. I trotted towards the hotel, following the address and the map Izzy had given me. I also had the replacement key she had bought for me. Goodness, she was a sweet friend.

I arrived at the hotel, found my room, and went inside. It was dark, and I couldn’t find the light switch. I just threw open the curtains of the windows. What was here? My trumpet! Thank God that wasn’t stolen. My saddlebag… was gone. Great. So was my scarf. I did find a stash of gemstones and… strange coins. Maybe unicorn bits. No spare pair of glasses. Sorting through all my stuff was slower without them.

I found one book I recognized as my journal. There was also one book I didn’t recognize, a notebook, but not the last one I remembered owning. I opened it and started reading. This was… interesting. A little foreword at the beginning, then pages and pages of species descriptions. I didn’t recognize any of them. The foreword made it clear what this was. I had copied these species from books in Bridlewood Forest—probably the ones Dust had given me—and described them in pegasus botany terms. It looked like I intended to publish this book, although this was clearly a first draft.

Next I read through my journal, starting where my memory was intact. Okay, so I got funding. I came here, I was studying plants in the field. I realized that unicorn botany was more advanced than I had guessed, and I started transcribing their species instead. With this, the notebook, and the books Dust had given, it was clear what kind of research I was doing here. And fortunately this notebook seemed to be where I had put most of my work. Maybe the memory wipe wouldn’t be such a setback after all.

I still had to relearn everything. I was still reading through Dust’s books, and I would like to find these species in nature and practice identifying them. But thanks to Strawberry Sunrise I was alive. Thanks to Dust I had somewhere to start. And thanks to Izzy and Sunny, I wasn’t going to hold a grudge. I could bounce back from this.


*  *  *


Wind, rushing past my face, over and under my feathers, through my tail and mane. I flapped my long, thin wings again, almost gliding. The dark red feathers of my spread wings soaked up sunlight. The burned skin of my left wing was still tender, but it was worth a little discomfort to be up here. Having finally got a new pair of glasses in the mail, I could clearly see Bridlewood Forest below me, dark and shaded in violets, pinks, greens, and browns. I angled my wings, turning slightly just to turn. A nice, leisurely fly was such a welcome break!

I had been indoors, editing my article, all day. I had decided to write a shorter article for publication in a scientific journal. The article would describe the basics of my work and refer to the more detailed and complete book, which would be published separately. I had to write everything by pen for now. There were no computers in Bridlewood Forest, but there were no Acer lunasaltum in Zephyr Heights. I also couldn’t take the Bridlewood library with me, so I would stay here as long as possible in case I needed to reference something.

Although I was flying slowly, I was out of shape after the hospital stay and being sequestered for research. I wanted a breather. I saw a cloud nearby, just a little higher than me, and I turned towards it. I flapped up to the cloud, and coming up I saw another pony standing on it. I flared my wings and landed on the cloud. “Oh, hey,” I said. “Sorry, I just needed a quick breather. I can find another cloud.”

“You really are a shy one, aren’t you, Peace?” the pony said, smiling. He was an older pegasus with a green coat and a dull, red mane. Oh, this pony had greeted me in the street earlier.

“Um… maybe you didn’t hear,” I said. “I was mugged by a unicorn with a memory-wiping spell. So you may know me, but I don’t know you. Remind me your name?”

“Typhoon Tack,” he said. “We met on a cloud just like this.” He reached into the cloud and retrieved a blue crystalline needle from it. Frowning, he tucked it behind his ear. “You lost your memory? How are you holding up?”

“It has been unpleasant,” I said. “All these ponies know me, and I don’t know them. I didn’t even know what I was doing in Bridlewood. My last memories before the incident were in Zephyr Heights.”

“That sounds rough,” Typhoon said. “Have you been able to put together your research since the memory loss?”

“Actually, that’s gone pretty well,” I said. “Some ponies helped me figure what I was doing. I’ll finish my research article soon, then I’ll go back to Bridlewood to get it published. I’m worried how the review committee will receive it, though.”

“Why’s that?” Typhoon said.

“I don’t know how things are now, but… As I remember it, most pegasi despise unicorns. When I first drafted my research proposal, everypony was warning me not to go to Bridlewood. ‘Oh, they’ll fry your brain’ and such. My research is centered on unicorn science. Really, all I’ve done is compiled what unicorns already know about botany. I’m afraid they’re all going to dismiss it as voodoo magic or some nonsense instead of real science.”

Typhoon seemed an old, tired stallion, but something lit up in his eyes when I said that. “So that’s where your research ended up taking you?” he said. “Literature reviews are important, but it is a problem if nopony trusts your sources. I have written my fair share of research papers myself. I might have some pointers on how to get them to take you seriously. Do you have a draft I can look over?”

“I do, if you can read my writing,” I said. “It’s all in cursive.”

“I’ll be fine; you would be surprised how many hobbies one can pick up, if cooped up in Zephyr Heights long enough,” Typhoon said. “I can even read emoji.”

“The draft is in my hotel room, if you don’t mind following me back there,” I said. I wasn’t carrying anything important with me after what happened earlier.

“Let’s fly,” Typhoon said, stretching his scrawny, old wings. From the height of the cloud, I was able to glide all the way to my hotel without ever flapping. I looked behind to make sure Typhoon was keeping up. Yes, he was flying fine, even though he kept scanning the tree cover below.

I opened my hotel room, collected the draft that was spread across the desk, and pulled up a seat for Typhoon. “Thank you,” he said, sitting down and leaning over the desk. “Your penponyship is nice.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’ll write my thoughts on a separate paper, alright?” Typhoon said.

“Yes, thank you,” I said. I just kind of shuffled awkwardly as Typhoon read my work. He mumbled to himself occasionally as he advanced through the pages. Finally, he put them down. He started writing his notes without referencing the paper. It was quite a lot of text, even moving to a second page. Some time later, Typhoon put the quill down.

“That was interesting,” Typhoon said. “I sincerely hope you succeed. These notes should help, but the basic problem of your paper—convincing pegasi that unicorn science is valid—is still unsolved. There is another way how I could help you. I’ve found that unicorn meteorology is surprisingly advanced, especially considering they can’t fly or manipulate weather. I talked with a couple of scientists in Zephyr Heights about it, just casually to retain old contacts. But if I sent them a more detailed report of unicorn meteorology and they published that, it could lower pegasus skepticism towards unicorn science in general.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I said.

“How long before you were planning on submitting this for review?” Typhoon said.

“At least a few weeks,” I said. “I want to have the species book closer to ready in case the article is accepted.”

“I can get that article through by then,” Typhoon said. “It’d be more of an ideas and perspectives article, not a full-blown book like what you’re referencing.”

“That would be fantastic!” I said. “You’re being so helpful, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There will come a day when I will ask you for a favor,” Typhoon proclaimed gravely. “I expect you to remember then what I do for you now.” He failed to suppress a laugh. “Just kidding. Breaking into the circles of science is hard. Worse with unexpected memory loss. You will have it easier with some help, so I’m giving it to you.” Typhoon stood up. “I wrote my mailing address in Zephyr Heights, in case you ever need to contact me. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Typhoon said. "If I hurry with that article, I might be able to play detective and get a stern talking from the police about minding my own business. That would be fun." He trotted out of the hotel and took off.


*  *  *


Izzy pressed a button on the side of… whatever that was. It opened like a blooming flower. The “petals” flattened out, acting as a table for a teapot and six teacups. “Boom!” Izzy said. “What do you think of that, Peace Petal.” She nudged me and chortled. “Get it?”

“It’s nice,” I said, refusing to acknowledge the pun. “Did you base it off an Iuba hexafloris flower?”

“I have no idea,” Izzy said. She levitated the teapot and took it to the kitchen.

“Thanks for having us over,” I said. When Izzy had heard that I would be leaving Bridlewood Forest, she had invited me and her other friends to a tea party at her house. Yeah, apparently she was friends with the royal sisters. Fortunately, she had already filled everypony in on my memory loss. I was getting tired of explaining that to everypony and their aunt.

“No problem,” Izzy called.

“I’m glad you were able to put your research back together,” Sunny said. “You were really down for a while there. How’s it coming along now?”

“The introductory article was accepted and published in Forest Diversity,” I said. I was so giddy about that, I had purchased a physical copy of the whole volume and brought it with me. I pulled the book out of my bag and opened to the bookmarked page where my article started. “There I am.”

“Is it in Ponish or… science lingo?” Hitch said.

“It’s pretty hard to understand if you don’t know botany,” I admitted.

“Well, I might not read it, but I’m still happy for you,” Hitch said.

“I’ve pretty much finished editing the manuscript for the book,” I said. “Now I need to go back to Zephyr Heights and type it out.”

“Then we can see each other more often,” Pipp said.

“Do you have plans for after the book?” Zipp said.

“There’s a lot to do in Bridlewood, still,” I said. “There are hundreds of species to study and compare. Unclear phylogenetic trees, unexplored ecological niches, and such. But I think the bigger opportunity is in Maretime Bay. Somepony needs to do there what I’ve done here—compile what’s already known in pegasus botany terms and publish it for the scientific community in Zephyr Heights. Maretime Bay may not have the plant diversity of Bridlewood Forest, but its climate is very different from anywhere pegasi have studied. There will be new species to catalogue.”

“You’ll love it in Maretime Bay,” Hitch said. “It’s the most charming town in Equestria.”

Sunny nudged Hitch. “You sound like a radio ad,” she said. “Did you hear that from Phyllis?”

“Tea!” Izzy said, trotting into the room with a teapot. “What kind does everypony want?”

“Black,” Hitch said.

“Do you have lavender chamomile?” Pipp said.

“I have lavender and chamomile,” Izzy said. “We can make it work!”

“Green,” Sunny said.

“I’ll take black as well,” Zipp said.

“Heartflower,” I said. “I might as well get some while I can. I’m going to miss Bridlewood.”

“You can always come visit,” Izzy said.

“I don’t really have the money to travel wherever I want whenever I want,” I said. “But I’ll certainly write you.”

“And we can visit you,” Izzy said. “The five of us live in three different cities, so we’re always bouncing around between them.”

“I’d enjoy that,” I said. “Although I don’t remember it, I’m glad I met you.” I was never really good at making friends, so my experience after the memory wipe was surprising. Strawberry Sunrise had saved me in the forest. Dust had helped me figure out my research. Izzy and Sunny had helped me pick up my spirit afterwards. Typhoon Tack had helped me get published. And now I was having tea with the princesses and the sheriff of Maretime Bay like I was part of their group.

Izzy passed me a teacup. I smelled the heartflower, a cool, sweet scent. “Everypony has been so nice to me since I got mugged,” I said. “Maybe y’all should try it sometime.” A few of them chuckled. I wanted to freeze this moment. Bridlewood was beautiful, I loved my research, things were going my way in terms of publication. These ponies and others had been so helpful and kind to me. There was a certain… magical feeling to this moment of friendship. “I’ve definitely enjoyed Bridlewood Forest, despite some setbacks,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what Maretime Bay has in store for me.”