Aphrael sat quietly on a branch, kicking one grass-stained foot back and forth. She could hear the footsteps approaching – twelve feet, ending in hooves from the sound of it – attached to three minds – juvenile, naïve, innocent minds, minds filled with a sense of wonder and the simple joy of existence – and, most intriguingly of all, three rather strong magical auras.
She could hear every leaf rustle, every quiet breath, even their heartbeats. Aphrael didn't often pay this close attention to her surroundings; then again, she didn't often come across a set of children visiting from a neighbouring world, either.
“Look! There it is!” whispered the one with the accent.
“What is that thing?” asked the one with the occasionally buzzing wings.
“It looks like some sort of hairless monkey.” volunteered the one with the melodious voice. “Told you it wasn't a griffin.”
“Can't be a monkey.” insisted the accented one. “Y'all ever seen a monkey with hair that long on its head? 'Sides, it's wearin' clothes.”
“A plain white cotton dress. And some sort of headband made of plaited grass.” said the melodious one. “My big sis would have a fit.”
“Your big sis has far too many fits.” added the winged one. “Do you think we can get it to come down?”
“Ah could buck it out the tree, no problem. It's not really hanging on all that tightly.”
“Yeah, but then it'll probably be cross and run off.” objected the winged one. “I wanna know what it is.”
“Well, then let me show you how it's done.” said the melodious one. She walked up to the tree, and laid her forehooves on the trunk. “Hello up there!” she called out. “I'm Sweetie Belle, this is my friend Applebloom, and this is my other friend Scootaloo. We're the Cutie Mark Crusaders. What's your name?”
Aphrael looked around for the first time, getting a good look at the three fillies. She smiled, and waved.
They smiled and waved back.
Aphrael raised her pipes to her mouth again, and began to play a little tune, dancing back and forth on her branch. It took only a few moments for two of the Crusaders to spot that something was wrong.
“How the hay does she do that?” asked Applebloom, frowning at the branch that did not bend under Aphrael's slight weight – even when all of it was concentrated on a tiny twig.
“I've got no idea.” replied Sweetie Belle, ignoring the branch and looking at Aphrael's simple pipes.
“What are you two talking about?” enquired Scootaloo.
“Unless the wood's a whole lot harder than the trees back home, there ain't no way that branch can bear the weight o' someone that size without bending a little.” pointed out Applebloom.
“That's what you were talking about?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Eeyup. Why, what did you see that's impossible?”
“There's no way a simple little set of pipes like that can produce the music we're hearing.” replied Sweetie Belle, promptly. “It's not even possible to pull a double stop on a wind instrument like that, and she's doing it!”
“What's a double stop?” asked Applebloom.
“Oh, that's when you play two notes at once. I saw a unicorn pull off a quadruple stop on a guitar, once.”
“If she's doing it, then I guess it must be possible.” said Scootaloo, cautiously. “Maybe music works differently here.” She took another glance up at the strange creature above them, then stood up on her hind legs, placing her front legs on the tree. “Um, hey, uh, would you like to come down and play?”
Aphrael considered this for a moment, then hopped off the branch, landing agilely on the ground.
“Ah'm Applebloom. What's your name?”
“I'm Aphrael.” said the Child-Goddess, speaking Equestrian for the first time. She had an accent that hovered somewhere between Applebloom's, Sweetie Belle's and Scootaloo's; making her sound not-at-all-Apple-familyish to Applebloom and rather-Apple-familyish to the other two Crusaders.
“Hi, Aphrael!” said Applebloom. “So, what d'ya wanna play?”
* * *
The game had been raucous and energetic, and had involved much disturbance of the undergrowth. But even the most energetic of fillies needed a breather now and then. Aphrael didn't, but she respected the needs of her new friends; and, since the ice had now been thoroughly broken, she had a question for them.
“What's a Cutie Mark Crusader?”
“That's us.” replied Sweetie Belle. “None of us have our Cutie Marks, so we're trying all sorts of things to try to get them. We'll hit on it sooner or later. We're trying Cutie Mark Crusaders New World Explorers tonight.”
Aphrael considered this explanation for a bit, and then asked “What's a cutie mark?”
The three crusaders leapt up and stared at Aphrael, with identically shocked expressions on their faces. “You don't know what a cutie mark is?”
“It's a design that appears on a pony's flank.” said Scootaloo, pointing at the spot where her cutie mark wasn't (and briefly double-checking, in case it had appeared while she wasn't paying attention. It hadn't).
“It tells you what yer special talent is.” added Applebloom.
“And what you're destined to spend the rest of your life doing.” added Sweetie Belle.
“Like a visible symbol of your destiny?” asked Aphrael.
“Yeah, that sounds right.” said Applebloom, cautiously.
“Humans don't have anything like that.” Aphrael told them. “A lot of them never quite work out what their destiny is, actually.”
“Doesn't that make things kind of difficult?” asked Sweetie Belle.
Aphrael nodded. “A lot of the time, yes. Not all the time, though.”
“Is that what you are?” asked Applebloom. “A human?”
Aphrael briefly considered a direct lie, but decided that her new friends deserved better. “Well... not exactly.” She shrugged. “I just kinda look like one.”
The Crusaders instantly looked very worried again.
“Are you a changeling?”
Aphrael frowned. “What's a changeling?”
“They're these creatures that can look like anypony only they're not really ponies and they feed on love and use it to power their magic and -” began Sweetie Belle, as all three Crusaders backed away slowly.
“Well... I guess... my magic is powered by love, but -”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Changeling!” screamed the Crusaders, turning tail and fleeing towards the portal.