2. The Alicorn Errant: Part 5. An Old Friend
The air was particularly hot and humid today, the August sun beaming down on her back. It was warm; easily the hottest it’s been in years. She however remarked that the weather was nowhere near as unpleasant as the lush jungles far to the south, where it rained and rained for days on end. And even when the harsh sun was out, one might still feel as though they were “swimming” through the air.
But this did not detract from the discomfort many ponies felt on this day. The tall white alicorn known to most as the “Wintermail” had gone through a small town earlier. Pegasi flapped their wings in an effort to cool themselves and others. The ponds around the town were filled with ponies trying to cool off. She even recalled a few young rascals trying to break into the ice house.
As for herself, she decided to endure the heat; the Wintermail was made of sterner mettle. Still, the day’s weather enticed a myriad of flies to swarm around the traveler. She tried her best to swat them away with her tail, but it seemed an inexhaustible supply of insects had targeted the lone mare exclusively.
Most didn’t bite, only buzzed loudly in her ear. A few mosquitos were easily deterred, though with no less annoyance. Where could she go to avoid these swarms? The desert? The dry crags and valleys? Maybe back east where calm coastal breezes blew. All these locations seemed a bit far, especially solely to avoid a few troublesome flies.
How could such little creatures be this much of a bother?
But this minor inconvenience was quite the secondary concern on the alicorn’s mind. The flies did however cause a stir of contemplation in her. These small pests followed whatever came their way in hopes of finding something to eat. In a way she was like them: aimlessly wandering to the next town for an opportunity to earn a living. Wintermail was a romantic nomad; without a home…without a purpose.
And for several decades she explored and adventured. These flies would live only for a few weeks, maybe months. But Wintermail had a great many years still ahead. How much longer could she endure a causeless existence?
During her wanderings, she changed a little bit. More experienced with a sword, Wintermail became a formidable fighter indeed. She grew a bit more confident and courageous, a far cry from the uncertain mare who had run away from home…fleeing the shame and regret for her cruelty inflicted upon her sister. Even so estranged from her, every day the white mare still prayed for her beloved sister’s health and happiness.
She did not know if she’d ever see Taberanyn’s smiling face again, but every second of separation still pained her. Yet…Nikóleva could not return. Still young and unable to face her deepest fear, the alicorn was bound to remain detached from her dear sister, until such a day came when she could overcome her shame.
Maybe she could find peace of mind in a city or town, with an actual home. She’d entertained the idea of returning to Evergreen’s house…but certain events had transpired preventing this.
Wintermail was as much a stranger to his family as anypony else. The memory of Nikól had faded away, and every year her welcomes became less and less enthused. Then finally it seemed as though everypony, barring Evergreen, had forgotten about her.
In her mind, it was probably best to leave the family alone; they needed no strangers bothering them, let alone one as odd as an alicorn.
So where exactly could she go? Manehattan was nice and by the sea, plus the merchants paid well. Canterlot was stunningly beautiful and so culturally rich, but maybe too high-brow for a humble peasant. Wintermail could settle in Poneva, keeping an eye on the family who showed such generosity all those years ago.
But that constant buzzing in her ears kept interrupting her thoughts. These blasted flies!
Almost fed up with the pests, Wintermail made it to the top of a low hill along the road. There, the unthinkable happened.
The flies’ buzzing turned quiet, and the swarm left her person. The birds chirping far off in the trees ceased. Even the rustling of the wind stopped and the air and sun felt comfortably cooler.
All things at peace, a mysterious figure emerged from the opposite side of the hill. Wintermail could not believe her eyes when she saw the pony come into full view. It was tall, easily as tall as Henarion. Its light blue coat and bold green mane almost looked as if light shone from them. Its eyes were a steely grey, full of stern reverence yet soft kindness.
But what elicited the most powerful response from her was what the pony actually was. It was, at least superficially, an alicorn. And it did not wear a cloak or any sort of means to conceal its wings. Rather, it bore them quite proudly; proud to be among the ancient and blessed race of the Triple-Kin.
Yet the pony’s gender was not easily discerned. Wintermail had met some androgynous ponies before, yet the individual who stood before her left the mare truly befuddled. While she examined the stranger, the mysterious alicorn smiled and began to speak.
“Hail, traveler! Lovely day, isn’t it?” it spoke, though its voice was neither that of a mare nor stallion.
A bit taken aback, Wintermail nevertheless responded courteously, “It was quite warm a moment ago, but now I’d agree,” she took a deep breath, elated to finally meet another alicorn, “If I may confess, stranger, I’ve not met another of your kind in a long time.”
“Not many do; mine is a scant group.”
“Are you not afraid of what might assail you because of your…nature?”
“Not in the slightest. Are you?” the pony smirked.
Nervously looking around, Wintermail replied with a stutter, “I…I don’t understand…what do you mean…”
“Do not take me for a fool. What good is a cloak in Summer? Are you ashamed of what you are? Do you feel you were fashioned…incorrectly?”
“Of course not!...I just wish to…avoid any unnecessary encounters.”
The pony gave the mare a narrowed look, “If you insist…” it relented, “Though you might feel freer with outstretched wings,” At that moment the alicorn unfurled its large feathery limbs, making itself appear even larger. Each feather was long and lustrous, as if they were just preened.
“Undoubtedly,” Wintermail laughed, “Pardon my question, but how many others of our kind do you know of?”
“Alicorns? My friend, there are far more in the world than you might believe.”
“Really? I’ve traveled all Equestria and beyond, but not met a single―“
The stranger gave a warm smile, “Traveler, you need only to look in the right places…”
Wintermail’s patience was wearing thin. What sort of game was this pony playing? “Where exactly? Could you tell me where you come from?”
“You wish to know about my home? Well…it’s a fair distance from any place; not easy to get to. But…,” the pony stared off with a look of fondness, “It’s very, very nice. Always bright and warm, calm and quiet. I hope every creature gets a chance to see it…if only once.”
“Sounds wonderful. Could you give me directions?”
“’Directions’? No…I don’t think I could do that. Besides, I wouldn’t want to delay you from whatever errands you have. I myself am late.” The white mare started to interject, but the stranger kept speaking, “Yes…I’m a messenger of sorts you know. I do what I am asked by my liege. And I’ve a very important message to deliver to one pony in particular.
“You see, he’s very ill…and I should like to take care of a few things before…well. Ponies can be so impermanent; even alicorns. I regret not spending as much time with him as I could have,” it chuckled for a moment, “At least I shall get that chance soon, right?”
Taking a step forward, the alicorn resumed its journey, “Be well, Nikóleva.”
“H…how did you―“ the white mare struggled to say, utterly shocked. How many other ponies knew who she was?
“Not much happens in Equestria that I don’t know about. Until next time, friend.”
“Wait!” Wintermail yelled as the pony began walking off, “Will there be a ‘next time’?”
“I think so. Though, you might not recognize it’s me,” the mysterious alicorn replied cryptically.
“What does that mean?” Wintermail thought. She stood for about a minute or so, trying to piece together exactly what had just transpired. The mare managed to acquire very few answers to the numerous questions she had, both asked and unasked.
There’d be a lot of time to inquire if she could just get more time with this stranger. That was it! Perhaps she could convince the alicorn to let her travel by…’its’ side; at least for a while. With hopeful optimism, Wintermail turned back and ran down the hill.
“Excuse me! I never did catch your name!” she shouted out, hoping to get the pony’s attention.
Yet at the bottom, with the rest of the road for a good mile or two visible, she could find no sign of that alicorn…almost as if it vanished. Where did the pony go? Where could it have gone? Distraught and once again without direction, Wintermail sighed and hung her head low. And as if someone wished to torment her even further, the hot air and flies both returned.
That alicorn never found out what exactly happened to the stranger. And though many ponies and others she would meet in her long life would sometimes disappear without a trace, there was something different about this particular one. It was just…gone.
But that alicorn did provide her with a new sense of expedience. It was evidently on a mission to speak with an old acquaintance. Were there any ponies Wintermail could do the same to? Seemed like a wise idea to drop by for a short visit.
Then it hit her: of course! Evergreen would adore her company! Would she be a burden? No…she’d only be there for a day or two.
“Now which way is it to Poneva?” she thought out loud, “Next town isn’t far; somepony should know there,” and in earnest, Wintermail proceeded down the way, now invigorated with purpose and aim.
The next town was quaint, the townsponies very friendly and helpful. In the local tavern, Wintermail had a light meal of fruits and vegetables and a hearty drink of malt beer. The tavern keeper was kind enough to point her in the direction of Poneva.
But he still laughed, the trip to that northern city quite arduous, “Head north up the Trottingham road about three-hundred miles; that’ll take you to that city,” He said, “Keep going north and you should come to a wide river, so I hear. Cross it, and don’t stop going ‘til you get to Poneva.” He serviced a few other patrons before he continued, “I should warn you, Dear, there’s marshes and stiff brush all along the way. Better tack up before you leave.”
Marshes? Great; more flies to pester the Wintermail. Thanking the keeper and paying him handsomely, the alicorn left the tavern and procured some supplies for her journey. After purchasing some food and a visit to the farrier, Wintermail set out from the town.
From what the keeper had told her, the trip could take several days, maybe even a week…if she kept a brisk pace. And so excited was the mare about seeing an old friend that haste was the only pace she set. Wintermail walked all day until finally nightfall came. And just as the sun peaked out above the horizon, she was already outside in the cool morning, glistening dew wetting her feet.
And during the morning, Wintermail galloped down the roads and paths. Then in the heat of the day she slowed to a steady walk, turning back to a gallop in the evening. If she was fortunate enough to happen upon a town or roadside inn, she’d sleep and eat there; otherwise the wilderness would provide for her a bed.
Day by day she made more progress to the relatively isolated city of Poneva. As she came to find out during her wanderings, that city was the most northerly of all major settlements in Equestria, at least which was still populated. But even though it was smaller in size than other more famous cities, the trek was well worth it for Wintermail. Soon enough she would see its cliff-borne keep and brilliant fortifications again.
To occupy herself in the meantime, however, she let her mind wander into deciphering that alicorn she met not long ago. It still perplexed her, in more ways than one. Oh wait until Evergreen hears about it! Wait?...What would she say to him? It’s been a long time since they last met; there’d be so much to share. Could they have a picnic like they use to? Or would Evergreen be content with staying home, the distance to the lake too much for him?
The years had not been as kind to him as they were to the Wintermail. Age barely even touched her. Now in her mid-fifties, most ponies could hardly tell what her age might be. Youthful wasn’t quite as accurate as the onlooker would’ve preferred; “ageless” maybe fit better. Her healthy coat still flashed with the same beauty as when she was just a young adult, but it was littered with minor cuts and bruises from the countless battles she had fought.
Her eyes were filled with experience, yet still the life of a mare in her prime. At once naïveté and wisdom permeated her words and sentiments; Wintermail was a walking contradiction.
Several times she overheard Evergreen’s family speak in secret. The stallion himself would never hold such thoughts, but those others spouted accusation as to why the alicorn remained in her seemingly perpetual state of youth. Had she found a secret fountain of life-giving water? A special mineral? Maybe she was just an affront to nature. Or perhaps she leeched the life from others around her, staying young and pretty as they crumbled to dust.
Quite ridiculous yes, but that did not stop them from calling her “freak” or saying “She didn’t belong here.” All behind her back, of course. And now Evergreen’s family had forgotten about her, probably by no simple slip of the mind.
Maybe now she could repair that relationship, and spend some more time with that beloved stallion. Wintermail had to come to terms with this many nights, and now could no longer deny the truth: Evergreen had grown old, and soon he would finally find peace.
Time was growing short to say her goodbyes: perhaps a bit shorter than she expected.
*――――――――――S――――――――――*
After long last, the day came when the Wintermail finally emerged from a dirt road to the old homestead of that logger she met so many years ago. The path was a bit wider, a few trees here and there having been felled. The actual land was also cleared more, a veritable village having arisen to house Evergreen’s blossoming family. His sisters and their husbands and children all had their own homes, and so did the grandchildren who decided to remain as woodcutters.
Freed serfs and traveling peasants even established a small community further down the road. Evergreen in his old age employed several tenants on his land, not to mention was the unofficial “mayor” for this town. This hamlet was occupied by more and more low-ranking ponies who, by one means or another, managed to acquire their own land.
And it was idle talk amongst this community that the Ponevan King was even going to issue a town charter to them.
As the largest peasant landowner in the region, Evergreen accumulated great wealth, even putting to shame some lords in the Kingdom. But he never moved to a bigger home or hired numerous servants. Through and through he was an honest and hard-working stallion, quite content to do most labor by himself.
Or so it was. The green pony was now older and less able to work hours on end. His nieces and nephews usually did most of that labor now; Uncle Evergreen paid generous wages. Yet there was one pony whose help was enormously appreciated, and the stallion didn’t have to pay a single bit to her.
That white alicorn instead insisted on paying him, readily dispensing gifts and alms to everypony in the area. Most towns had one encounter with her, and cheered loudly when she departed, grateful for her aid. But returning too many times might cause the townsponies to grow hostile. This new town held a similar sentiment; she came every now and then, usually with several years in between. “Who was she? What was she? Where’d she get all that gold? She always wears a cloak; what is she hiding?” This was common conversation between workers when she’d pass through.
“And what was her relationship with Evergreen?”
They’d ask these questions again soon enough, for the Wintermail had returned. Her trip was exhaustive, and by the time she came up to Evergreen’s home, her hoofs felt very sore. The marshes and thick brush she slogged through left her dirty and hot, and the ever-present flies only agitated her condition. Many places had roads that barely poked out of overgrowth, being neglected for almost a millennium. Wild animals did not help things, and several times she had to threaten off a hungry wolf or bear with the edge of her sword.
But the most surprising thing she saw along the journey was an increasing number of Diamond Dogs. Wintermail possessed no love for the race, but normally they were very reclusive and struck at night or early in the morning…something she knew quite well. But lately, for the past few years, she’d fought off raids on border towns and marches; in daylight hours; in groups of twenty or more.
It was if the mongrels had recently grown bolder. Along wild roads and fields she’d have to hide in tall grass and observe gangs traversing great distances to pillage. One time Wintermail narrowly avoided fighting a horde with as many as one-hundred individuals. Mayors, lords, margraves…they all complained about an increase in Diamond Dog attacks. And not just dogs, but the dragons in mountains and crags grew restless and territorial. What exactly was happening in Equestria?
During the trip to Poneva, Wintermail had been ambushed by a party of several dozen dogs. Knowing she’d probably suffer major, if not mortal, wounds in the conflict, she decided to do something she’d never thought she’d have to do: she drew Eónadin, and warded off the attackers with the enigmatic glow the sword seemed to emit. The Diamond Dogs recoiled at the weapon, remembering well the legends their fathers had told them about “Maelin” and the tall pony’s fantastical blade.
But with tremendous respect for her Father, Wintermail never used the sword in anger, and instead let the Diamond Dogs be.
That was several days ago. Now, she wished to speak to an old friend and memories of hostile encounters would not plague her visit. Taking a deep breath, Wintermail walked down the road to the front gate of a familiar fence. Now expanded and refurbished, the fence encompassed more territory and was built sturdier. A lone orange earth pony was sweeping the porch a dozen or so yards away from her. He looked up and spotted the tall traveler waiting before the gate.
“Mother!” The colt shouted across the field to another porch. “I think Uncle Evergreen has a visitor.” A mare by that other house shouted something inaudible back. “That white mare…yes the unicorn!” The older pony replied again. “Yes ma’am!”
The colt put the broom down and trotted up to the gate. Unlatching it, he let the visitor through. The colt however gave a prying look, distrusting the mare. He spotted the gilded hilt of her precious sword. Was she a noble? Perhaps a knight? Uncle Evergreen did not trust knights, especially in his frail and sickly state.
Wintermail noticed this, but still kept a courteous disposition. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at the colt, “May I ask you your name?”
“Oakwood. My sister likes to call me ‘Oakie’ but don’t you dare―“
“Oakwood! Ah yes, I remember you! I did not recognize you…my you’ve grown,” Wintermail loudly exclaimed.
The colt however looked very puzzled and a bit concerned, “I vaguely remember somepony like you…why do you know me?”
“Oh I met you when you were just a foal…I met your father when he was a foal.”
The colt did not appreciate somepony he did not know having such intimate knowledge of him at his most vulnerable, “What business do you have exactly with our family?”
“I’m an old friend of your Uncle, and I stop by every few years to pay a visit to him. Most of your family doesn’t much care for me, I understand.”
“No I don’t think so,” Oakwood replied. “Most folks around here don’t care for strangers. They especially don’t like it when they hang about for a while.”
“Many ponies don’t like strangers, and I’m one everywhere I go. But I shall not be long; I rarely am,” the colt opened the door for the guest, displaying some of the same courtesy Evergreen possessed.
“You say you knew my father when he was a foal, yes? You must be as old as my Uncle then.”
Wintermail grinned, “I know I don’t look it.”
“That explains why Aunt Spring Green has a grudge against you,” The colt giggled. His face then turned serious, “But my Uncle unfortunately has been feeling ill. My father was sent to fetch a physician.”
The alicorn’s eyes widened, “Oh no…”
“Yes,” Oakwood solemnly continued, “He’s been bedridden for days, unable to get up. I hope the pony my father fetches can help him, but…”
The colt didn’t finish, and instead led the alicorn into the main room of the home. The fireplace looked very much the same, but it was clear a few stones had been replaced. Some timbers of the walls and rafters looked newer and healthier than others. The furniture’s upholstery most certainly had been repaired or swapped with newer fabric. The maintenance employed within the domicile was impeccable; it looked almost like it did that first day.
But Wintermail wasn’t allowed to dwell on the décor, for a group of ponies, both young and old, had gathered around the dining table. Most of the stallions and mares the alicorn had already met, at least once.
“Grandmother! I’ve brought a friend for Uncle Evergreen,” the orange colt said, breaking the conversation amongst the other ponies.
The mare who responded was an elderly individual, wearing a faded celadon coat. She smiled warmly at her grandson before looking at the tall pony he had led inside. Immediately her face turned to a quiet scowl. “Thank you, Oakwood,” she said, gesturing him back to his chores, “Well well well, it has been a while, hasn’t it…’Nikól’? Are your hips giving you trouble yet?”
“Nikól” cocked an eyebrow, “Can’t say they are…”
“Mine are a bit stiff. Been that way for the past ten years I think,” she walked towards the couch, feigning difficulty of movement. Upon sitting down she exhaled audibly, as if the minute exercise was enough to fatigue the mare, “I’m sure my grandson told you about Evergreen: he’s in no condition to entertain.”
“I’m well aware, Wintergreen. I thought I’d make a short visit and greet some old friends.”
“Yes…I’m sure you did…,” The old mare’s eyes became full of distrust, “There’s a lot of talk…rumors more. The more pessimistic ones think my brother’s time is…running out. My children and I aren’t concerned with these matters, but many of our more…conniving relations want a share of Evergreen’s wealth. And some idle remarks have been made about him giving everything to a certain white unicorn.”
This rumor shocked Wintermail, and she took a moment to respond, “I doubt this very much. Even if he were to give me something, please believe me…I should return it to your family. I have enough wealth.”
“This is good to know; one less thief vying for money or land…,” Wintergreen took a deep breath, “You say your stay will be brief?”
“I intended as much.”
“Best stay by me; my sister and brother had a bit of a dispute. I won’t go into details but now she’s trying to acquire his land. She hates you, knowing you’d take his side. As long as you stay beside me, she won’t harass you.”
“And how do you feel about me? I maintain brevity in my visits because I know I’m not well-liked here…”
“Under more usual circumstances I’d admit to holding petty feelings of envy towards you. But most everypony here just isn’t too keen on foreigners acting like they’re ‘welcome’―no offense.”
“None taken,” Wintermail said, but inside she was somewhat hurt.
“Evergreen has been talking about you for the better part of thirty years. Understandably many of us would grow tired of hearing about ‘Nikól’.” The white mare blushed slightly, quietly giggling in delight. “Yet I realize now this is no fault of your own. Please forgive my family and myself for being so rude. May I get you anything?”
“No thank you. And please don’t trouble yourself on my behalf.”
“Considering the madness I’ve been subjected to these past few days, I’d welcome simply tending to a guest. But I’ve other duties at the moment. Evergreen’s in his bedroom, likely asleep. He’s remarkably ill and we’ve given him quiet. You may go in and sit along his bedside. If he wakes up, tell me; I need to sort out some very important matters,” Wintergreen rose from the couch slowly and returned to the group beside the table, who all during this were still conversing about things Wintermail never did pay attention to.
The alicorn too rose up and made her way to the room her friend was laying in. Carefully opening the door, she crept in to find a room centerpieced by a large bed. She looked for a moment and realized that bed was the one she made for herself during her stay with this family. It seemed as though Evergreen had kept it for himself.
Nestled in the bed, covered in blankets and head propped up by a pillow, was another elderly pony. His once healthy green coat was no longer so vibrant, and his aged face bore the weight of many years. He was sleeping, his breaths painfully irregular. Every few moments he’d make a groan. It only took seconds for Wintermail to almost break down in tears to find her dear friend in such a state. She however managed to retain her composure.
Fortunate, as the room was populated by several ponies: relatives, friends, tenants…they all came to pray for Evergreen and keep him company in his time of need. They remained solemn even through the sight of an awkward giant trying to find room for herself in the small chamber. Though initially hostile, the ponies allowed Wintermail a spot to sit right next to Evergreen.
She took her time to thank everypony who shifted their position, and then sat down contented. And there she would stay for the next few hours, silently reminiscing about happy times she’d shared with the stallion. Every now and then she’d chuckle to herself. At one point, a pony became curious and asked how she knew Evergreen. Soon the entire room would be talking amongst themselves about their relationship with the earth pony.
Wintermail met a few tenants and landowners who owed much to the stallion. They told her stories of their experiences with Evergreen, how kind and generous he was. About his strength and the ends he’d go to protect this family and community. And in recognition of his virtue, the ponies all decided to put aside their distrust for the alicorn, and instead focus on Evergreen.
They all had a few laughs and even some cries, but still took care to keep quiet. By the evening, however, Wintergreen had come in and told the lot to vacate the room. Complying, the group witnessed a trained physician enter, led in by a large stallion of a cerulean color. Evergreen’s more amiable sister followed suit, and the door was latched shut.
Some more time passed, how much Wintermail never did find out, before the physician emerged from the room. Her head was hung low, and a hint of sadness filled her eyes. An anxious relative took the initiative and approached the mare.
“Well…,” he started, “Will Uncle Evergreen recover?” his expression showed he almost didn’t want to know.
“I’ve done all that medicine can do,” the physician confessed, “The Gods alone will decide his fate henceforth. I’m sorry.”
“Bless you for your troubles,” Wintergreen said, giving the physician a small pouch of coins. “It is late; feel free to lodge here tonight.” The medicine mare nodded. The matriarch of the family then turned to the crowd gathered in the main room of the house, “I think…we’d best…,” she tried to summon the words, but sorrow wrenched her heart, “Say our goodbyes, before you all go home.”
The crowd concurred in silence. For the next hour ponies crept inside the bedroom and greeted a now awakened Evergreen, who assured them all he was perfectly content and happy. His responses were warm and filled with good blessings and wishes. Everypony in the region knew him somehow, and he told the ponies their families had sent to see him that he loved them all and appreciated their wonderful friendship.
As the moon rose over the horizon, more ponies started to leave, having said their final farewells. When the crowd thinned, Wintermail felt it right for her to take her turn. She came into the room to find the only remaining ponies: Evergreen’s two sisters and that blue stallion, his favorite nephew. Wintergreen and her son could not bring themselves to leave just quite yet, and the other sister had…ulterior motives.
Wintermail sat down as she had before and looked upon Evergreen’s face. He hadn’t noticed the alicorn come in, perhaps too distracted by his fever. When he did, though, his sickly mood immediately brightened.
“By the Allfather I think Heaven has snuck up on me, for I gaze upon a face so fair only a goddess could have it,” he spoke, smiling widely at his old friend.
“Nice to see you too, Evergreen,” the mare giggled. The two other respectable ponies couldn’t help but do the same. Spring Green however glowered at the alicorn.
“I’m relieved you’ve come; I dreaded I’d never see you again. You look…wonder…ful…,” his speech was interrupted by a violent cough., “Forgive me, I’ve been feeling a little…unwell. I have missed you, Nikóleva.”
It was bittersweet hearing her birth name. Wiping a tear from her eye, Nikóleva boldly placed her hoof on his, trying to recreate a more favorable time, “At the risk of sounding foolish, not many days go by without me think of you. I’m deeply sorry for not visiting sooner; I―“
“Don’t worry. Just seeing you now is enough for my poor old heart. Your life is a gift, Nikóleva. I’m sure you have many tales to share. Get on with it!” the stallion said, his hearty laugh restrained by ailing lungs.
“I doubt you want me to bore you…,” Nikóleva feigned.
“I demand nothing more!”
“Excuse me!” Spring Green interjected, “As much as I would love to listen to the stories of this…pony, we have certain things to discuss yet, Evergreen. Like matters of your ‘posterity’.”
“’Posterity’? Oh Gods above even when I’ve not the strength to get up…,” Evergreen coughed several times, a bit of blood in them, “She…still…wants my land.”
“It’s very important, Brother. You have no children; what will happen to your homestead? To whom does it go?”
“To whomever I damn well please!” he shouted in a raspy, restricted voice, “But yes, I think it is time I designate the recipient of my possessions. That is why, after much thought…,” he paused to cough, “Wintergreen takes the rights to my land and everything on it, on the good faith that she must never give it to you.”
Boiling with rage, Spring Green lashed out as fiercely as an old mare could, only to be stopped by the quick reflexes of Nikóleva. Struggling and wanting only to wring her brother’s neck, the vindictive pony could not escape the strong forelimbs of the alicorn. “You bastard! Half of that should be mine!” the earth pony spat.
The heiress and her son kept the violent hooves of the furious mare away from Evergreen, “That you would so easily turn against me is precisely why I’ve disinherited you. That is all you and your spawns care for! Now that you’ve gotten your answer, you have my permission to leave me in peace!”
Calming down, the mare glared at her brother and hastily took off. She slammed the door shut and left the home without a second thought. And that was the last time Nikóleva ever saw that mare.
Nikóleva knew this was not how siblings were supposed to act, and she leaned towards Evergreen with a disturbed look on her face, “You cannot just abandon your sister like that! I don’t know where you too grew so hostile to each other, but you must make amends!”
Evergreen sighed, a sickly wheeze coming from his throat, “Oh Nikóleva, you really are still young. I have tried to talk reason into my Spring Green, but she’s made it clear she is not my sister anymore. Greed has taken hold of her, and she’s turned all her children against me. I still love her with all my heart, but she does not share that sentiment.”
He blinked and stared at Nikóleva’s distraught face, “There are difficult choices in life, and sometimes the right answer isn’t the one we’d like. I promise it was not with a light heart that I’ve let my sister come to hate me.” Nikóleva could not make eye contact with him, but she weakly nodded.
“Let us not dwell on Spring Green, yes? Go on Nikól, tell us about your travels,” Wintergreen said, warmly encouraging the alicorn.
“If…you all insist. Well on my way here, I was ambushed by a pack of wild Diamond Dogs! There I was, outnumbered…a hundred to one! I was not about to let them get the better of me, so I…”
And as the night wore, Nikóleva told Evergreen and the other two ponies present about her exploits and adventures, admittedly taking a few liberties with the details. This oral tradition was specifically invented so the stallion would have something interesting to cling to in his weakened state. Epics of bandits, brigands, dogs, wild animals, dragons…he was entertained for what felt like hours to Nikóleva.
Her presence alone was enough to ease his suffering, but the fact that she cared enough to brave the wilderness and hostile obstacles just to see him lifted a great burden from his heart. Perhaps Nikóleva did the very opposite that night than what had she intended; Evergreen now felt…complete and the happiest he’d been in years…a stallion who could die at peace.
And though rejuvenated for a while, Evergreen’s health rapidly deteriorated with every story Nikóleva told. And she noticed this…she saw the shortness in his breaths and the increasing frequency of his coughs. His words became less and less coherent, his voice more constrained.
Yet that smile never left his bright face.
After she had finished her last story, Nikóleva gazed upon the frail and infirm body of the stallion she loved. He could scarcely move, and every other word was interrupted by coughs and wheezes. Tears trickled down her cheeks when he opened his mouth after a long period of silence.
“I’m rather…tired…everypony…may we continue in the morning…?” he just barely managed to say.
“Of course, Uncle.” his blue nephew said, “We’ll remain by your side in case you need anything,” his eyes were just as watery as Nikóleva’s.
“Have pleasant dreams, Brother.”
“Yes, Winter. I think…tonight I’ll have the best dream…of my life. I bid you all good night,” he began to shut his eyes.
But Nikóleva could not let him go…not yet. “Wait! We still have so much more to talk about! Can’t you stay awake for a little more?” her eyes pleaded with the stallion, but she knew the answer. Unable to bear it, the alicorn began to weep.
Using whatever strength his spent body had left, he raised his hoof and stroked the pink mane of his old friend, “My Love, I’m very tired. Let me…just…rest my eyes. When I wake in the morning, then…we can…talk…”
Then, without another word, he took Nikóleva’s hoof and placed it on top of his as he closed his eyes.
“In the morning,” Nikóleva thought. But morning never came, not for Evergreen. This sleep was his last and sweetest. For though he had been in pain, his spirit felt light and free, delighted by his beloved family…and one dear friend. Evergreen died that night, in a way so peaceful that few ponies could ever claim the same. The cruelties of this world would no longer touch that old stallion.
But that did not make it any easier. The three ponies realized shortly after Evergreen had shut his eyes that his spirit had been borne elsewhere, leaving them sad and empty. All three could not hold back their tears, and sought each other for comfort. No words were spoken for the rest of the night; Nikóleva only held the other two close and they both wept into her chest. She craned her long neck down and embraced them, weeping as she had only done a few occasions before.
And sometime during that night, she leaned back over the body of her love. At first she wished to utter an old alicorn prayer, but instead spoke nothing and simply kissed his forehead.
Returning to her mourning, Nikóleva recalled what her father had said when her mother died so many years ago: “We’ll see her again someday.”
And with all her might, the alicorn hoped that what her father had said was true, and that Evergreen would be right there as well.