//------------------------------//
// 117. Gifts from the Past 
// Story: Rebirth of the Damned 
// by Borsuq 
//------------------------------//

	“Sir, you’ve been staring at the display for ten minutes now. Are you going to buy something or not?”
Reluctantly, Storm raised his eyes to meet the jeweller’s gaze long enough to shake his head. Every necklace, earring, ring, diamond, or any other piece of jewelry, even the cheapest one, was so above his pay it made the distance between Equestria and the Moon seem small.
Resigned, he said farewell to the jeweller and left his shop, wondering what to do. Rarity’s birthday was tomorrow, and he still didn’t have a gift for her.
“Why did I have to get a crush on a mare with such refined tastes?” Storm whined mentally, despite not really meaning it. He didn’t regret that Rarity had caught his heart. He just wished she would have left his wallet alone-
He mentally slapped himself for that stupid train of thoughts and tried to remember what he had learned from Rarity’s friends. The first one he asked was Sir Lightbringer, because, as much as he was uncomfortable with the idea of talking with his mentor and superior officer about the matter, it was still a better option than asking one of the mares. However…
“I, unlike some ponies, don’t try to meddle in the relationships of others,” Sir Lightbringer told him. “I’m afraid that this also includes giving advice regarding gifts.”
Storm had no idea what was that supposed to mean, but with such pressing matter at hoof, he had no interest in knowing. Resigned, he then asked Rarity’s other friends for advice. He tried to do it subtly, as if he just thought of her as a friend and was simply wondering about her tastes, and not a guy who had to nail a perfect gift for a girl he likes.
The key word being “tried”.
Both Rainbow Dash and Applejack snickered upon hearing the question, and told him that she would probably love a shiny gem.
Pinkie Pie blabbered for about ten minutes about what a “super-duper” Rarity’s party would be before she let him ask his question, and afterwards she began teasing him and said that he should just bring her a cake. Then she remembered that there was going to be a cake anyway, and so she might think that he was just copying, and should bring a pie instead… Storm just left when she turned into discussing with herself about whichever was better and whether the cake was a lie, or something.
Fluttershy just blushed and mumbled about not knowing if she should help or not…
But Twilight was the worst. She pulled him into her house and within a few seconds she presented him with a chart illustrating the items she liked the most, how much she would like to get them, and how much would she like him for getting one of them for her. She was also about to make a chart of all the stores in Ponyville which provided those items, but (luckily) Spike reminded her that she was supposed to practice a new spell near the swimming hole.
The chart was helpful, though, to some extent. It showed him clearly what Rarity would love for a birthday gift; a beautiful diamond, or ruby, or sapphire, or emerald… practically, any kind of gem, as long as it was beautiful. Scratch it; she would actually love anything that was beautiful, as there were some roses on the edge of the chart.
Whether for good or bad, Storm knew that he couldn’t give just flowers as a birthday gift, and so he visited all Ponyville jewelry shops - all two of them -,but, as he expected, everything there cost too much.
“What should I do?” he wondered as he staggered towards the Abbey, feeling too down to fly. “Rarity’s birthday is tomorrow, and I still have no gift for her. Diamonds are out, too costly; flowers are out, too cheap… dresses are out, she can make them herself much better than anypony in Equestria…”
“My, what have we here?” an odd, strangely sounding voice sounded from next to him. “A flying warrior of the Sun and Moon so out of cheer?”
Storm glanced to his side, surprised, and then a bit scared when he realized that the voice belonged to the cloaked figure. He relaxed, though, when his eyes pierced the shade of her hood and saw a striped, black and white muzzle twisted into a friendly smile.
“Oh, hi. You’re Zecora, right?” Storm asked, knowing that there was only one zebra living in Ponyville… or, well, near Ponyville. The zebra nodded in reply. “We haven’t met yet, haven’t we? I’m Storm Clash.”
“A pleasure meeting a new friend in this town,” Zecora said, trotting alongside of him. “May I inquire what caused such a frown?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Storm replied uncomfortably, not wanting to share his problems with the zebra mare, but seeing her curious and strangely cheerful gaze he felt that he needed to add: “A friend that I… really like has a birthday, and I have no idea what to give her that is good enough for her and within my bits’ range.”
“That should be enough,” he thought. “No need telling her who it is…”
“Ah, the troubles of young hearts,” she exclaimed, chuckling, as Storm blushed; she didn’t need to be so blunt. “So unnecessary, it’s not smart.” Storm opened his mouth to ask what she meant by that (as well as ask why she was speaking in rhyme), but she changed the subject. “Tell me, the mare whose attention you seek… that wouldn’t be Rarity, who I know has a birthday this week?”
Too late, for Storm remember that the one that told him about Zecora was Rarity. Cursing his stupidity, he abandoned his plan to hide his friend’s identity.
“Yeah…”
“Well then, you’re in luck!” Zecora said happily, her unexpected reply making his heart stir with hope. “I know of a gift that might get your hearts together stuck!”
“R-Really?!” the pegasus asked, his wings taking him into the air by their own accord. “Please, tell me, I will give you whatever you’ll want!”
“The payment won’t be needed, my friend’s bliss is a reward enough,” she replied, smiling as he hovered next to her. “But first come to my home; telling you this tale without a book will be a bit tough.”
Storm nodded, and offered to carry her saddlebags for her. She was going to tell him what he could give Rarity that would win her heart over. He was more than willing to brave the Everfree Forest for this!
 



 
Matthias tapped the ground with his hoof, growing worried and impatient as he stood near the Abbey’s training grounds.
“He should be here by now!”
Shaking his head, he returned to watching Tucker’s and Wind Reaver’s sparring fight. Having fought against both of them, it didn’t come to Matthias as a surprise that the changeling was winning. Tucker, however, managed to score a few hits and was growing gradually better.
Matthias sighed and closed his eyes. The sounds of the fight aside, the Abbey was quiet. Everything seemed emptier than usual today, other than a few ponies that came to the Chapel this morning.
Recently, much to his delight, some ponies grew curious about the Holy Light, what it was and what it could do. Matthias answered their questions and talked with the few who had family or existential problems, both happy to help and feeling slightly awkward at the same time. It bothered him. Uther never had a problem serving as a warrior in battle and as a priest during peace. Matthias, though, as much as he was in tune with the Light now, had some problems getting into the role as the head to Equestria’s newest religion.
A yawn interrupted his train of thoughts, making him once again ponder how peaceful things were at the moment. Storm was out in Ponyville (probably buying a gift for Rarity), and Guard was helping the hospital, while Nymph…
Given Applejack’s reluctance towards the changelings, Matthias found it utterly hilarious that she became friends with Big Mac. She’s spend most of her time during the last couple of days on Sweet Apple Acres, helping the big red stallion out with his chores until the noon, when her other friends, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, would be out of school. Nymph seemed not bothered at all to help them try to get their cutie marks, to play games with them... or to help them get their cutie marks.
As most of that was happening on her farm, Applejack had come to him at some point to complain and express her worry that she might be brainwashing them. Matthias doubted that, and assured her that Nymph had his trust. Scootaloo’s extolling of the changeling was good enough for him… and what he took out of the conversation he had recently with Big Mac (as uncomfortable as it was) made him think that something else was in the air.
“I just wonder how Applejack will take it…” Matthias pondered, hoping that her friend wouldn’t do anything stupid, when he heard a flutter of wings. He turned the way from where it was coming from, expecting to see Storm Clash or Rainbow Dash, but to his surprise it was Derpy Hooves, equipped with her mailmare’s bag. “Huh, didn’t expect that kind of mail today…”
He straightened up as she landed next to him, trying to not think why he was late or about Rainbow Dash. For a few days now she’s been away from the Abbey, spending most of her free time practicing “her stuff” for the Wonderbolt Academy - as she was as sure as Matthias that she would get in - and being too tired after that to “visit” him. He found himself… missing her, but at the same time he was kind of relieved.
Shaking his head with irritation about his mind not knowing what the hell was he supposed to feel, Matthias greeted Derpy. “Hello, Derpy; it’s good to see one of the parents that didn’t suggest that I should visit a doctor and have my head checked.” “Not that visiting a psychiatrist would help me…”
Derpy giggled, reminded of the yesterday’s parent-teacher meeting. The agreement he made with the Mayor was met with approval and appreciation of everypony. The idea he proposed of Nymph helping the foals prepare for the pageant was not. Most parents reacted with outrage, and even his words did little to endear them to the idea. Luckily, Cheerilee and Sweetie Belle’s parents, who heard from the Cutie Mark Crusaders about the female changeling, supported Matthias, and confirmed that he wasn’t insane as Featherweight’s mother had suggested. In the end, it came to that if Princess Celestia would promulgate that Equestria was in fact going to ally with changelings then Nymph could come to the school and help… with a paladin keeping an eye on her.
“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Derpy told him, smiling as she regarded him with her good eye; the other was looking to the side as usual. “Others will warm up to it eventually, I’m sure. Anyway, here’s your letter!” she added cheerfully, as she took a letter from her bag and gave to him.
Matthias glanced at the name of the sender, wondering who it could be. To his pleasant surprise, it was from Serenity. “She probably wanted to inform me how things are going with the crystal ponies...I hope she didn’t have too much problem…”
Deciding to read it later, Matthias put it next to the bag that lay beside him and turned to Derpy. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but what he saw over her shoulder made him pause for a second. While talking with the gray pegasus, he hadn’t realised that the sounds of the Tucker’s and Wind Reaver’s fight had ceased, and now the mentioned unicorn was approaching with a gleam in his eyes that Matthias had saw already every time he looked at a mare.
“So, how’s your daughter?” the paladin asked loudly enough for the unicorn to hear; behind her, Tucker speeded up. Realizing his mistake, Matthias added: “Is she excited about the school pageant?”
“Oh, you bet!” Derpy replied, while Tucker paused. “Dinky wanted to play in it so badly!” And he turned around. “She hopes she will play Princess Platina.”
“Well, whoever she will play, I’m sure she will be great in her role,” Matthias said, observing Tucker as he marched off with one eye.
“Funny, I think so too,” Derpy giggled. “Now, I would love to stay and chat, but I have a lot of mail to deliver. See you.”
“Of course. Fly safe.”
As Derpy flew away, Matthias attention turned to the two other stal- ugh, males. Tucker had returned to the sparring area, where Wind Reaver was sitting on his haunches, laughing his flank off. Cracking a smile as well, Matthias moved to join them, but just then, the thing that he was waiting for all this time the past half an hour finally happened.
A flash of light appeared briefly, and a few meters above the ground a large shape appeared, falling down rapidly… or not? Matthias blinked in surprise as a big metal chest landed beside him, while a bushy-bearded dwarf descended slowly, a parachute attached to his back.
Seeing Brann’s face twist in a grin of amusement made Matthias wonder if he should throw his Holy Avenger to cut the ropes holding him, as he was angered by his late arrival. For good or bad, before he came to a conclusion Brann had already landed next to the chest.
“Well, what’ye say, lad?” he asked with a smug expression. “Thought I would fall on me face again, didn’t ye?”
Instead of answering, Matthias pressed his hoof in between his lips and whistled. “And what will you say about that?” he asked as he pointed at the Chapel. From the edge of the roof the head of Al’ar peeked out, making Brann’s jaw drop. “I would appreciate if next time you could check if the things you bring me have the remains of anything that might hold a grudge against me.”
“Um… ups?” Brann stammered after a while. “I mean, no offence lad, but how was I supposed ’o figure out that this would ‘appen?”
“Luckily, Fluttershy was able to calm him down before things had gotten out of hoof,” Matthias replied, deliberately not answering his question, and nodded for Brann to look to their side, where Tucker and Wind Reaver were already waiting… with the latter hovering right next to the back of his head.
“Gah!” Brann exclaimed once he turned around, looking at the changeling with a fear mixed with curiosity. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, lad. Bad memories… um, ye’r a lad, right?”
“Brann, Wind Reaver the changeling. Wind Reaver, Brann Bronzebeard the dwarf,” Matthias introduced them to each other.
“I thought ye said Equestria and changelings weren’t friends.”
“We are trying to change it,” Wind Reaver replied before Matthias could. “The Swarm is fortunate that a pony like the Hivespeaker came from your land to come and help us break the ice.”
“‘The ‘Ivespeaker’?” Brann asked, glancing at Matthias.
“That’s what they call me,” Matthias sighed; he really didn’t want to go through this. “And that’s not all; ponies had started calling me ‘Lightbringer’ a while ago.”
“Not to mention that Moonlight knows my real name somehow…” he mused as Brann chuckled.
“They really nailed down that one, didn’t they?”
“Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”
“Ignore him, it’s something he does a lot,” Matthias told Brann when he looked at Tucker with confusion. “You remember Knight Tucker, right?”
“Aye, although I don’t recall hearin’ the ‘Knight’ bit there then. Congratulations, lad.”
“So,” the earth pony quickly cut into the discussion before Tucker could reply. “Do you mind explaining what this is?” he pointed at the metal chest that was bigger than him. “I asked you to bring some-”
“Aye, aye… you prissy little horse,” Brann replied, taking off the bag he carried on his back and throwing to him. “‘Ere. Now, how about-”
Matthias’s sigh was so loud that it silenced the dwarf, which amused him. “Here,” he told Brann reluctantly, throwing him the bag he brought with him; inside of it where notes made by him regarding everything in Equestria that could potentially have connection to the titans, starting with Cloudsdale’s Weather Factory and ending with the Crystal Empire.
As Brann became busy with glancing over the contents of his bag, Matthias quickly took a peek into his own. He sighed with relief when he saw that everything that he asked the dwarf to bring was there.
“I would be in a pinch if he hadn’t brought them,” he thought, closing the bag and putting it next to him.
“What’s in the bags?” Tucker asked, his eyes switching from Matthias to Brann and back. “It’s por-”
“So, what’s with the chest?” Matthias directed the question to Brann, loud enough to stifle the unicorn’s words and snap Brann out of his daze.
“Oh, right. Well, ye see, lad… when I was ‘ere last time and ye flipped out like a fish taken from the water at the sigh’ of that book, and saw clearly that ye weren’t over with… stuff. I thought to myself: ‘Brann, ye old badger, ye need to help the lad deal with his issues’,” Brann said, and tapped the chest. “Inside are a few items that are ought to help ye with that. And hell, consider this yer early gift for the Winter Vail!”
Matthias looked at him, puzzled. He didn’t expect such concern from Brann… nor did he have any idea as to what he brought, exactly. “Thank you, then. Although, you could have picked a better holiday, Brann; I actually hate winter,” he told him to hide his confusion.
Of course, saying that made him recall two particular Winter Veils, one worse than the other…
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Brann replied, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I must be off. There have been some strange things going on in Zul’Gurub and Zul’Aman, and Muradin asked me to check and see if our neighbouring ice trolls are up ta somethin’ as well.”
Matthias blinked in surprise. He had expected the dwarf to stick around for a bit longer, not go back to Azeroth even sooner than the previous time. But he understood; the dwarf had his duties, even if he spent most of his time away from his people’s home.
“Some of the Scourge’s leftovers in Ghostlands saw a taller kind of trolls talking with the forest ones,” he told him in dwarven, earning surprised glances from Tucker and Wind Reaver, as wells as from Brann, but in that case it was due to his words. “I believe they are Zandalari, but I cannot be sure.”
“Zandalari? What are they doing there…?” Brann wondered out loud, but Matthias could only shrug. With Scourge remnants getting torn to pieces by Argent Crusade - and yet still horrifically numerous - it slowly became more difficult for Bolvar to gather information from specific areas. “Guess we will have to find out. I’ll make sure it will get passed along to King Varian.”
“Of course,” Matthias replied, as the dwarf reached to his pocket and grasped the talisman he had hidden there. “Safe landing.”
Brann grinned in response and squeezed the talisman tighter. Within a heartbeat, he was gone.
“So… keeping secrets?” Wind Reaver asked, clearly referring to the previous moment.
“It wasn’t anything relevant,” Matthias sighed, not in a mood to search for an excuse for speaking in a different language; and besides, as the head of the order of the Holy Light, was he even allowed to lie? “Anyway, could either of you get this chest open?”
Instead of answering him, the two males glanced at each other, and after a second of staring they both grinned. Matthias understood what was it that they meant when, with their head once again in the direction of the chest, they both raised their forehooves and activating their respective weapons.
“I meant with your magics!” Matthias snapped, causing the other two to burst into laughter.
“Ss-sorry, sir,” Tucker managed to rasp a while later.
Matthias nodded to him and glanced at the changeling, but he could tell by the grin that still adorned his muzzle that he wasn’t going to get any apologies from him. Rolling his eyes, he waited patiently for Tucker and Wind Reaver to undo the locks on the chest and open it. Once the lid rose, Matthias couldn’t help but take a peek…
… and then he immediately backed away as he realized what Brann had meant by saying that this might help him “deal with his issues”.
“Whow!” Tucker exclaimed as he looked at the contents of the now-opened chest. “That’s a lot of weapons!”
Indeed, the contents of the chest composed of an assortment of many different weapons: swords, daggers, maces, staves, a fist weapon, a polearm, and a crossbow. But what caused Matthias to take a step back in shock was not the number of them.
It was that he recognized them all.
“Why did that… dwarf gave them to you?” Wind Reaver asked curiously, while looking at them in awe while he and Tucker levitated them out of the chest to take a better look at them.
“That’s because they all used to belong to me… sorta,” Matthias replied uneasily. “I took them from powerful opponents I defeated prior to coming to Equestria.”
Murdered.
“No wonder Brann went back to Azeroth so quickly,” he mused, examining the weapons with guilt as the memories of their previous owners’ last moments came back to him. “He wasn’t sure how I would react… Damn it!” Matthias closed his eyes, reaching to the Light for calm. “I had already accepted who I am. The next step is supposed to be ‘putting my past behind me’. If I hope to be able to do that, I will have to accept those weapons!”
Matthias let out the breath he'd been holding and opened his eyes. Now that he was calmer, he realized that those weapons looked a bit differently that when they were in his possession. Instead, they had their original looks back, missing the ornaments such as images of skulls and eerie glow that he carved upon them as the Lich King. “Brann… or somepony else must have restored them. I wonder how much it must have cost Brann to just gather them all again… I would have thought those adventurers to care for their trophies of our fight a little more.”
“Each of them has its own name and history,” he said out loud as he motioned his head towards them. “Heaven's Fall, Kryss of a Thousand Lies; Tel'thas, Dagger of the Blood King; Stormfury, Black Blade of the Betrayer,” Matthias said, pointing out at the daggers. He glanced at the polearm. “Oathbinder, Charge of the Ranger-General. Fal'inrush, Defender of Quel'thalas,” the crossbow. “I should have taken the bow from that elven bitch. How will I use a crossbow with hooves?”. Matthias glanced at the fist weapon… could he use that without fists?. “Pugius, Fist of Defiance.” His gaze turned to one of the maces, his guilt growing: “Mithrios, Bronzebeard's Legacy;” and next to it, the axe that made a pair with it: “Troggbane, Axe of the Frostborne King.” He would have paused for a longer than a second he spared, but the sight of the next weapon filled his heart with a grim satisfaction: “Bloodsurge, Kel'Thuzad's Blade of Agony,” he said, looking at the sword, one of the few weapons here which look hadn’t changed since the last time they were in his possession. Next he looked at the pair of staves, one which again had filled him with sadness and shame: “Tainted Twig of Nordrassil; and… Archus, Greatstaff of Antonidas.” Matthias wondered how come Jaina didn’t take the staff of her old mentor back.. but then again, he had many of those. If Matthias memory was serving him well, the staff that Jaina currently held had also belonged to Antonidas in the past. Shaking his head, he looked at another weapon that made a wicked smile cross his features. “Felo'melorn, Sunstrider’s Runeblade,” despite feeling guilt over his actions in Quel’thalas, including the death of Anasterian Sunstrider, he had no such emotion over his victory in the duel with Kael in Northrend, where he took this blade. Matthias glanced at Al’ar, who was observing from the room of the Chapel, wondering if the Phoenix God recognized it, but he didn’t gave any indication he did.
The last three weapons didn’t have any emotion resembling anything like pride attached to them. As Matthias looked at them, all he could feel was a vast ocean of guilt, sadness, and self-hate, quickly masked so that Wind Reaver wouldn’t sense them. “Glorenzelg, High-Blade of the Silver Hand,” the sword of Uther, which he didn’t use often, favoring his hammer instead. “Havoc's Call, Blade of Lordaeron Kings,” the axe of the first Lordaeron King, passed down his line. And finally: “Royal Scepter of Terenas II.”
He studied his father’s scepter, wondering what he would think about him having it again. Would he approve? Would he want his son to have it again now that he’s been cleansed of the shadow of death? That he was trying to move on, and continued to fail whenever he recalled his failures? Or…
“I will just like to point out that I have no idea how did you manage to remember all those names,” Tucker commented. His words made Matthias crack a smile. “Who thinks up names like those, anyway? Couldn’t they just go with: Decimator, Killer, Awesome-monster-killing thingy?”
“It’s called not being blunt,” Matthias chuckled.
“Why do you need so many weapons? You’ll still probably use your Holy Avenger, right?”
“Yes and… I suppose I like to collect trophies,” Matthias shrugged. Turning to address the both of them, he said: “Put them back into the chest, lock it up, and place it in the armory.”
“You do realize I am not your servant?” Wind Reaver asked while Tucker groaned and began placing the weapons in the chest.
“Please?” Matthias replied, raising eyebrows.
The changeling made a motion with his head as if he was rolling his eyes, and went to help Tucker. Satisfied, Matthias watched them go with the chest, wondering if it wouldn’t end up causing him to have an emotional breakdown, or the opposite - help him deal with his past.
Shaking his head, he turned towards the Chapel, when he had suddenly remembered about the letter Derpy delivered earlier. Quickly taking it out of the envelope, he read as he walked:




Sir,
I am happy to report that, after some initial troubles, I have nothing but success in introducing the crystal ponies to the Light’s teachings. I suppose it’s understandable, seeing everypony knows here how the Crystal Heart is powered by us through the love, happiness, friendship, and goodness inside us, and it’s basically the same way Light works.
More importantly, though, I was also able to help those ponies that lost their families and friends to King Sombra, although healing hearts takes time. But they were grateful to have a pony to talk to, and a shoulder to cry on, especially a pony that had also went through what they are going through. It causes them to think that they will also shake of the shackles of sadness off their hearts.
Princess Cadance was of great help in getting ponies to come to the chapel, and attended a meeting herself a few times. And she’s a great friend to have.
There were also a few ponies I spoke with that expressed an interest in learning the ways of the paladin. I will have them fill in the requisition forms and send them to the Abbey later.
 
 
May the Light keep you in good health,
Serenity


 
“Guess everything’s going well in the Crystal Empire,” Matthias mused, smiling. “It will be good to have a couple of initiates from there as well.”
Sighing, he settled down for a meditation.
 



 
“Make yourself at home, while I’ll search for the book,” Zecora told Storm Clash, as they walked into her hut. “Don’t worry, I gotten it recently, so I know where to look.”
As the pegasus sit down by her table, him gazing around her heirlooms, Zecora went over to the part of the hut where she slept. The book she sought was there, as she finished reading it late last night in her bed. The zebra smiled as she picked it up, scolding herself for forgetting to take it with her when she went to Ponyville to buy some ingredients. She hoped could return the book to Twilight… but then again, if she hadn’t forgotten it, she wouldn’t be able to help Storm.
“The Great Spirits must have made it slipped my mind. Or I am just getting old, good thing it’ll be a while before I’ll also start going blind,” she thought in amusement, returning with the book to the paladin.
“This book had sparked my interest last time I visited Twilight,” Zecora told him as she placed it next to him. “Inside, there are two tales that help you just might.”
“‘The Folktales of Eastin’?” Storm asked in confusion, looking at the title.
“A town of old that stood by the Everfree until it was abandoned, or so I heard,” the zebra replied with a shrugged, as she browsed through the book. Once she found what she looked for, she stopped. “Regardless, here’s the first tale you need, you have my word.”
Storm’s attention turned from her to the book. Zecora sit down on the opposite side of the table as he began to read out loud:
 
“The battle of Forest and Wind
 
“Among the oaks, maples, birches, pines and all the other, all within the depths of the deepest bushes was the Spirit of them all. She was the Nature, and Nature was it… or was she the Guardian? The Heart of the Forest? These are not the things that matters to ponykind, nor are they within its rights to ask. Not after what they’ve done.
“From the north, ponies had fled. Seeking a new home, one tribe chose the spot for their village next to the Forest, the Home of the Spirit. She watched them, having not seen critters other than wood animals for millennia long, but let them be. Even when a few trees were cut, She stayed away, understanding the need of those creatures for the wood for their homes.
“But one pony, the leader of one tribe, did not take only what was needed, but what he wanted, too. From Her Forest, he chose a spot on hill, to build one of his castle, for in his arrogance he wasn’t content with just one.
“As the trees fell, dying the needless death, it was the end of the line. An ancient fury awakened in the heart of the Nature’s Goddess. The fallen trees and timber swirled around her, giving her a physical form in which she could extract her vengeance. As the monstrous wolf of timber, She attacked the castle, and chased the ponies all the way to the village at the border of Her Home. But her fury drew her further. Blood for resin, death for death. With a howl that struck fear into the hearts of ponies, she leaped…
“But one which not cower in fear stood in her way. The Winged Warrior, a Hero to his people, would not back down.
“They fought, and what a battle it was! The Forest attacked with an ancient fury, Her claws and teeth stronger than steel, vines and branches shooting from the ground at her command. The Wind responded with the mastery of blades, the speed and strength which gave him His name, and the full force of the hatred his heart contained.
“As they fought, it soon became clear to both that they were equally strong, and neither would best the other. But the Hero knew his limitations, as well as understood soon what She was: that while he was a mortal, she was much more.
“So he stopped, knowing that eventually he would falter, and offered her a deal; She would take his life, but spare everypony else. The Spirit, taken aback by his offer, pondered on it. Never before, even amongst her kind, had she seen such ferocity in battle and concern for others in their care. Baffled and intrigued, she had soon felt a different need than that for blood.
“She offered to spare the village, but for a certain price: for seven days and seven nights, the Hero would become her mate, and stayed with her at the Heart of the Forest. Although now He in turn was baffled, he had agreed, knowing that he could not best her in battle.”

Storm paused at this moment, his face growing red and his wings visible stiffening. Zecora chuckled in amusement, knowing what was next:

“He had come with her to her den in the Heart of the Forest and mated with her for seven days and seven nights. The moans and howls of the Spirit were heard across the Forest, all the trees had bloomed and field nearby gave more food to harvest than ponies had time to gather.”
 
She wasn’t surprised when he skipped that part, although a bit disappointed that she didn’t get to see him try to suppress his wings from spreading a while longer.
 
“Once the week had passed, the Hero of the Wind left the Forest, parting with Her as friends. His fame among ponies grew even bigger; both to his heroism and his accomplishments, and the Spirit soon had a litter, born with the ferocity of their father. To this day timberwolves stalk around the Forest, chasing anypony who’ll wish to cut down the trees; and once one will catch you - for they always caught their mark - you will pray that it will be of the different gender than you.”
 
“W-well…” Storm murmured, looking up from her book and managing quite well to keep his face composed. “... that was certainly... interesting, but I don’t see what-”
“Turn the page, and you will,” Zecora told him, smirking. “This new tale isn’t so exciting, so you can chill.”
Her comment made the pegasus even more embarrassed, but nonetheless he did as she told. Turning the page, he began to read again:
 
“The Tears of the Forest
 
“Though there was no great love between the Forest and the Wind, there was still an affection left. So when Hero turned into a Hunter, a dark cloud was bound to hover above the Spirit.
“The news of His deed hit her harder than anything she had ever felt in the past. The Valley in which He hunted was a place as sacred to Nature as the Forest in which She dwells; and even though it wasn’t her own body that was struck down, she felt a greater pain than that of a body. Her Heart ached for what he did to the Valley, for she knew it to be lost. She could not feel hatred for Him, so she wailed.
“As her Heart ached, tears formed in her eyes, and they fell on the ground while she wept for the Valley and the Burned Tree. Sensing the Spirits pain, the ground replied, the very Nature trying to cheer up the one it loves so much.
“By their own accord, the flowers sprouted in front of her muzzle, shining with its own light in the den of the Spirit. The Eon Petals grew for her, and across the world it’s known to be the flower of endless love - the love of the Nature, of our World, for the Spirit.”
 
Storm trailed off, as his eyes shone with comprehension as to what Zecora had referred to be the perfect gift for Rarity.
“In my homeland, I heard tales of a Great Spirit living within these woods,” she told him, as he closed the book. “I can feel it within every tree and every bush, but given how strong this feeling is the deeper you go, her den will be in the center, in all likelihoods.”
“And that’s where those flowers will be!” Storm exclaimed, lounging across the table and hugging her. “Thank you, Zecora!”
The zebra opened her mouth to reply, but the pegasus did not gave her a chance. With the speed that could match Rainbow Dash, he stormed from her house, heading for the Forest’s Heart.
“Did he just fly towards the center of the Everfree Forest, unarmed?” Zecora thought, staring at her open door in shock. “Love made him act a fool, he'll return seriously harmed!”
Pressing a hoof to her forehead, she prepared to set off; she had to tell Matthias before it was too late.