The rain had stopped, leaving the air humid and the ill-fairing grounds of Sweet Apple Acres a muddy quagmire. Twilight still had a pronounced limp which made it necessary for Applejack to slow down and assist her along the path. Twilight’s dreams the night before had been disturbing. She was plagued with visions of monoliths shaped in unnatural patterns, creatures formed of rock and stone and wood and glass, and of an endless staircase, winding in its tight coil up into the void above. The images lingered still, if only as haunting silhouettes. She remained bandaged; both the Apple siblings had insisted on keeping the pressure applied. She hadn’t the strength to argue.
“Twilight, sugar? We’re here.” Stated Applejack flatly. The gravity in her voice was at best unsettling. At worst, downright frightening.
The purple mare looked up at the daunting scene before them. The Everfree Forest, sinister in stature. Even the new ambient light of the sun and moon in tangent seemed scared to enter.
“Zecora’s hut is only a few hundred yards inward. Hopefully, the wolves won’t attack while theres so much sunlight still out.” Twilight observed.
“We don’t know that, now. Shoot, we don’t rightly know anything these days for sure these days, Twilight.” Applejack retorted cautiously.
“Well, it isn’t like we have much of choice, is it?”
“Sure ‘nough, I suppose…”
The walk through the nightmarish forest was mind crushingly stressful. The canopy seemed to be alive with faint rustling and hoarse whispers, but upon silencing themselves, the two fillies heard nothing but oppressing and creeping silence. The underbrush was moist with dew and dense with foliage. Vines overtook the trees around them, smothering their bark under a blanket of grasping tendrils. One felt that if they watched long enough, they could see it grow. Twilight was in fact almost certain she witnessed this on several occasions. She cleared the notion from her head, though. Knowing that the woods themselves could very well be after them was perturbing in itself. Knowing also that she could barely defend herself only compounded her mounting fear.
The smell of spices and exotic smoke drifted faintly in the air. They knew they were close. Only a couple more yards, and they should be there. Just around the bend in the animal trail. Every step sent chills of pain through Twilights ragged body. Weeks of immobility did not transition well into such strenuous activity. The meters seemed to stretch into miles, minutes into hours and Applejack practically carried her to the front of the hut.
“We made it, and with no incident, too!” Applejack exclaimed proudly.
“And no small miracle.” Twilight sighed. Thanking anyone for anything seemed moot by this time.
The companions entered, only to find the bamboo bungalow empty. A cloying scent filled the room, and Applejack wrinkled her face at the smell while she sat her injured friend down on a cushion.
“Where do you think she is?”
“Where else? Gathering herbs and spices. Perhaps creating wards? She managed to stay safe living out here so far. She must know what she’s doing.”
Worry crossed Applejacks face. “Yeah, but what if the ‘safe’ doesn’t apply anymore? What if she left? Or what if…you know?”
“If anyone can survive out here, it’s Zecora. And if not, then I doubt there was ever much hope for ponies like ourselves in the first place.” Twilight replied gravely. Applejacks eyes flushed with panic, her ears pressed firmly back. Twilight had become increasingly cynical since the Vanishing.
They laid their heads down and listened to the outside world. Their stomachs knotted with pent-up adrenaline, ready to bolt at any moment. The scraping and rustling was almost constant, if subtle. Sometimes they could swear they could hear something breathing it was close to the windows. They dared not look up to confirm their deepest fear. With every bump and far-off screech or howl they felt their hearts palpitate. It was an eternity.
And then, it stopped. As quickly as the noises had closed in, they fled. The two ponies held their breath, eyes screwed shut, waiting for the inevitable end to descend upon them. But it never came. After long seconds, they both carefully raised their eyes, looking at each other, too afraid to speak.
The door flew open, slamming against the wall behind it. Both ponies jumped up in an instant, all fatigue and injury forgotten. They stood ready to flee out the window, the door, the wall. Anywhere but right there, right then.
“Why hello there, my little ponies.”
Twilight stared unable to speak. Applejack, however, had no such restrictions.
“Zecora? Where have you been? What were you doing? Why aren’t you speakin all rhyming?”
The zebra chuckled. “That, my friends is a long story. And we may tell it yet. It is not safe to leave during the blacker hours.”
Twilight finally found her voice. “Why, though? Why is this happening, Zecora? I can’t find anything in my Library. Nothing like this or even comparable has ever happened in recorded history! And there’s no logical explanation for it!”
“Sit, Twilight Sparkle. You are wounded, and we must care to those injuries. I will tell you all I know, although I fear you are far from your destination.”
Twilight started to protest, but the tension and exertion from the last several hours were finally taking their toll, and it felt like every nerve moaned in exhaustion and pain. She sighed and half sat, half collapsed onto a velvety cushion.
“Here,” Zecora cooed, removing Twilights bandages and smearing a sweet smelling poultice over her lacerations. “Relax now, this place is safe. And we have much to discuss.”
The ponies shuffled about, trying to put their minds at ease. Applejack was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
“How is this place so safe? What have you been doing to keep them monsters and whatnot away? We tried everything at Sweet Apple Acres.”
“We Zebras have passed our magic down through the generations. We do not rely on the same power as the Unicorns. Ours comes from the bones of the world Herself. But even that is different now. It is erratic, unruly, it’s will unrelenting. We speak in our rhymes to help us keep the rhythm of the world in ourselves. That rhythm is gone now, and we must use the Old Magic. We call for the help of our ancestors, who are sacred to us, and the spiritual realm, which we cannot explain through mortal words.” Zecora explained with a longing tone, as if the absence of her magic was something stolen from her. Twilight empathized all too well.
“So, your shamanic powers, they’re gone too? But why?” Twilight was at a loss.
Zecora sat, looking at the ground. When she spoke, it was as if she had to consider her words carefully, unsure if they conveyed what she meant. “It is almost as if Equestria has been sleeping. And now She stirs, stretching just as we do in the morning sun.”
Applejack was incredulous. “Asleep? Nonsense! Me and my family tended to that soil every day for our entire lives! It was as lively and plentiful as could be!” She rebutted.
“No, Applejack,” Twilight interjected, “I think she means like a consciousness. An awareness that it didn’t have before. Is that right?”
Zecora only nodded. “I know nothing else, though. I can make for you talismans that will help you get home without fear of this forests residents. Or you may choose to go deeper in.”
Twilight felt a knot form in her throat. “Deeper in?” she asked.
“Why in tarnation would we want to go deeper?” Applejack demanded.
“Because if you want to save the Princesses, you must journey into the heart of the forest. Beyond the Sanctuary where you fought Nightmare Moon and restored order once before. To the Old Temple. The Shrine of Sun and Moon. There you may be given the way to salvation.” Zecora spoke in a tone that carried all the weight that entailed saving the world. It pierced the two ponies hearts, filling them with dread.
Twilight sighed. She had resigned herself to her course. “We have to go back to Ponyville. We’ll need everyone for this.”
“This wont be easy, you know. And this time, some of us may not come back to tell the tale.” Applejack reminded her grimly.
Twilight said nothing. She didn’t need to.
“We don’t have a choice. Tomorrow we trek into Everfree.”