//------------------------------// // Chapter Ten - Ghosts // Story: Where the Sunflowers Grow // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER TEN   GHOSTS   “Go on, do it again!”   Rush laughed and shook his head in defeat, “Do I have to?”   The white mare clopped her forehooves together happily,   “Yes! Oh, come on Rush it’s hilarious!”   Chuckling, Rush obediently stood up and walked a few feet away before giving himself a shake, “Right then.”   “Okay!” Queenie giggled, “So, head down, yeah?” Rush complied. “Now, do the rest…”   Rush’s face went slack, his head hanging and he let his eyes go unfocussed as he cropped the grass, giving the occasion snuffling sound and nicker. Queenie roared with laughter,   “That’s it! Oh Rush, you’re going to have to do that when we get back; the gang would love to see it!”   Rush shook his head, “You know, I don’t really see what’s so funny about it, but…”   “Nah, you probably wouldn’t.” Queenie tapped her head, treating Rush to a cheeky wink and a smirk, “Still too human I reckon.”   “Hah! I don’t know about that. If I’d thought twenty years ago I’d be magically transformed into a talking horse one day, people would have carted me away to the nut house!” Rush laughed out loud, sinking to his haunches and gave his ear a hard scratching, “Bloody things itch like hell sometimes.”   “Rush?” Queenie asked quietly, “If you don’t mind me asking, erm…how old are you?”   He froze, turning to face her, “I…I don’t really know.” Rush held up a hoof, “And before you say anything; I’m not pulling your leg, honestly.”   “How the hell can you not know?!” Queenie laughed, “I mean, come on!”   Rush sighed, shaking his head, “At a guess, somewhere between thirty and fifty?”   “FIFTY?!” Queenie gasped, “Good Goddesses! You look younger than me…almost.” She tossed her mane, “I thought you were going to say you were twenty or something! Bloody hell, and there was me thinking I was chasing a colt too.” She rolled her eyes, “Got you again, Queenie old girl…”   “Does it really bother you that much?” Rush asked, genuinely intrigued. He held up a hoof and looked at it; it certainly didn’t look old, but then, what did he really know about ponies? “Maybe coming through the portal reset everything in some way” Rush reasoned, “I know about as much about magic as I do about Equestria – less even.”   Queenie adjusted herself on the litter and winced slightly before settling herself down, “Well, that makes two of us, about magic I mean” she replied, “Although there are a couple of things: One is that you shouldn’t keep trying to jam your hoof in your ear like that or you could really hurt yourself.”   “And the other?” Rush asked, surreptitiously putting his hoof down.   “Horse” Queenie said wrinkling her nose, “I don’t like it.”   “What’s wrong with saying horse?” the brown stallion asked in surprise.   Queenie grimaced, “It’s rude, and…vulgar.” She sighed, “Like…it’s like, calling earth ponies, ‘mud ponies’ or ‘mud scuttlers’, that sort of thing.” She looked away, clearly bothered by the direction this conversation was going in, “It’s hurtful.”   “Oh.” Rush hung his head, “Sorry, Queenie, I didn’t know.” He held up a hoof apologetically, “I still have a lot to learn, and I hope you’ll forgive me for any more, er...’misunderstandings’.”   Queenie snorted and sat up, shifting her bedding to prop her back up. Rush moved closer and began pushing the makeshift pillows behind her to make her more comfortable. “I think it’s me who you should forgive” she said quietly, “I...I didn’t mean to hurt you, you know.”   “I know! You’ve already apologised, Queenie.” Rush gave her a kindly nudge, “So, come on now, lets get some sleep; I think I saw a light in the distance earlier and if we set off handy in the morning, I’m pretty confident we’ll be back in civilisation before you know it.”   “We’d better…” Queenie huffed, “My leg still hurts like buggery.”   Rush reached down, “Hmm. Let me have a…OW!” He jumped back, holding his hoof that the mare had slapped away without warning.   “Don’t!” Queenie stared at him and then paused, blinking in surprise at her own reaction, “I…I’m sorry, Rush. I don’t know what came over me.” She sighed, “It’s nothing…go ahead, please.”   The vivacious mare’s behaviour definitely seemed a little out of character tonight, and Rush watched her carefully for a moment as she put a foreleg over her muzzle - she was an odd creature alright. Shrugging it off, he lifted the corner of the bedding and carefully lifted the wrappings away from her leg.   Queenie whimpered.   “Queenie?” Rush asked, “Are you…?” “U-huh…” she mumbled, “Just get on with it, will you?”   “Sure.” Rush continued his examination, sniffing the wounds and checking to see if they were healing properly. Thankfully, most were, and although they would certainly leave some scarring, there was evidence enough to suggest injuries were not unfamiliar to this creature. A couple of the nastier ones would need redressing soon, but he’d have to do that in the morning when he had some better light to work with. Without consciously realising he was doing it, Rush traced the line of a particularly vivid scar down Queen’s Court’s haunch to her knee – come to think of it, was it actually called a knee? He wasn’t sure about… “Queenie?”   She was shivering, her words gasped out, “Oh Goddesses…”   Rush looked up in alarm, “What? What’s wrong?”   “Rush…” Queenie was shaking, her foreleg clamped in her mouth, “Don’t…please don’t…”   Rush stopped what he was doing and moved up to her head, leaning closer, “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He placed his forehead upon hers, trying to check her temperature; she seemed warm, but not so much as to be of concern. But as he moved away, forelegs reached out and grabbed him around the neck, a pair of large orange eyes drawing his gaze as surely as rain falls from the sky,   “No” she whispered, “But…Rush, I…I want…”   “Hmm?” Rush felt oddly mesmerised by her; those incredible eyes, so large and near…she was so close…   A faint snap behind them made them both freeze. Carried on the faint breeze, a low clacking rumble rolled out around them making Rush’s heart skip a beat. He glanced at Queenie who nodded to him,   “Rush…don’t let them…”   He put a hoof on her muzzle and shook his head, “I won’t.” He reached out for the stout wooden staff he’d roughly fashioned from an old tree branch and river stones. If he’d had more time he’d have fashioned some flint tools, but travelling, finding food, and caring for his injured friend had sapped his time. Now, time had run out. Rush stood up, hefting the staff and looked out into the darkness at the glowing greens orbs that glittered and sparkled in the night. There were dozens of pairs of them; the blood chilling sight accompanied by a series of growls and clicks, like the hollow clattering of the long dry bones of the dead. He’d never seen one, but Queenie had told him what they were:   Timber wolves.   Shifting onto his hind legs, Rush hefted his weapon and took several long breaths, slowing his heart and focussing his mind,   “Come on then,” he said into the night, “dinners ready…”   The clacking noise grew louder, the green fires brighter. The wolves, emboldened by numbers, pushed forward. Clearly wary of the flames, the bizarre and terrifying creatures, like some nightmarish assemblage of the detritus of the forest floor given life, hedged around the two ponies. They could smell them, they could sense their weakness. One of them was strong, ready to fight, but the other…the other was weak, sick, and unable to run. The wolves’ chattering rose and then stopped as the largest of them, the alpha of the pack, lowered his head and advanced into the firelight.   Rush gritted his teeth; he’d seen thestrals, he’d fought them, but this…this really was like a skeleton - one made of wood. Dear Gods, he could even see the beast’s heart! It was there, beating inside of it, a glowing green orb of energy of some kind, pulsing and lending life to the wooden form around it. In all his life, in all his nightmares, he had never imagined anything like this! The thing was huge; its eyes, as green as its heart, burned with intense magical light and anger, while its teeth, little more than sharpened stakes, looked all too ready to rend flesh and crack bone. Rush glared at it and smiled,   “Hurry up will you? Don’t keep a fellow waiting.”   The beast paused, cocking its head to one side as if trying to understand the Equestrian’s words. For a moment, Rush wondered whether the creature really was intelligent, and whether there was some way out of this – after all, ponies were intelligent in this world, so why couldn’t these things be too? But Queenie had told him about them, about how they would steal the wounded away from the battlefield in the night, leaving only their pitiful cries for help and screams of terror in the darkness. There was no way he was going to let these monsters take Queenie without a fight. Before him, the beast’s eyes flared with ethereal power, reflecting off the leaves that were growing out of its wooden body. The wolf’s teeth shivered with anticipation, while its claws twitched and dug into the ground as surely as they would soon rend this flesh and blood morsel before it.   The wolf howled, and charged. Rush’s stave lowered and swung, striking up and into the timber wolf’s jaw, eliciting a loud thump and a yelp even as its claws opened rents in his flank. He couldn’t feel anything, he didn’t have time for it anyway; there was only his enemy, himself, and the mare he would protect – he must protect. The wolf shook itself and eyed its foe. This was strange; food didn’t normally fight back like this. It watched, noting the blood trickling down the pony’s flanks, the strength in its prey’s muscles and the length of its weapon. It was no matter, it would be over soon enough; one opening would be all it needed…   With a howl, the great wooden creature readied itself, pushing its hind legs into the earth like some massive coiled spring, and like a spring, abruptly launched itself with terrifying speed straight at its intended target. Rush tried to sidestep, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground, swinging his weapon up and around. There was little he could do stop such a charge, but if he stepped to one side at just the right moment, he…   Rush flinched and looked away as the ball of intense blue-white light burned afterimages across his vision. All around him, the howls and other worldly shrieking clacks of the timber wolves rose to deafening proportions and just as quickly faded away into the distance. What the hell was that?! Whatever it was had reduced his hearing to little more than a high pitched scream of white noise, and his hooves were shaking with the imbalance that…   “Come on!”   Rush turned, “Who…?”   “Can you walk?” The blurred grey image of a pony stood before him, holding what looked like some kind of bow. Whoever she was, she was shaking her head and motioning impatiently, “Stay here if you want to die, or follow me and live - It’s your choice.” She abruptly turned, and headed off into the darkness, a bright ball of white light suddenly appearing above her and outlining another pony who was dragging Queenie away on her litter.   Rush shook his mane and picked up his hoof-made pack, “Bugger that…” With a snort, he turned and headed off with the two newcomers and into the unknown.   The party moved quickly, the landscape around them now only visible within the bright magical light that hovered several feet above them and was following them like a star brought to earth. As fascinating as it was, the very real prospect of large, sharp teeth biting into the tender flesh of his rump added speed to Rush’s legs and he was glad of it. The recent crawling pace had stiffened him up, but now he felt they were doing something positive: they had found other ponies, and at long last…safety. He looked across at Queenie who was bouncing along in the litter, teeth gritted and face scrunched up showing all too clearly the clear discomfort she was in. Thank the Gods she was a lot better than she had been, but that leg was still broken and he was concerned the jostling pace could compound her injuries. He hurried up to the female unicorn heading their group,   “We have to slow down.”   The grey mare stared back at him, “No.”   And that was it; ‘no’, a simple answer that brooked no argument. Rush glanced back at Queenie and then back to the grey unicorn mare, “She has a broken leg, damn it! If we don’t slow down we could kill her!”   The mare shook her mane, “If we stay here, the wolves will kill her, child. Have you thought about that?”   Rush snorted, “I’m not a fool, nor am I a ‘child’; I’m probably older than you, so don’t take that condescending tone with me, ‘old mare’.” He neighed loudly, “Look, let me take the front of the litter and one of you take the back. That way we can move quicker and hopefully not cause any more damage than we have already, yes?”   The mare whinnied, slowing the small party to a halt. In the blue-white light, her black mane looked like treacle, flowing down her neck and adding a stark contrast to her bright yellow eyes. She turned to the stallion pulling the litter and spoke to him quickly. Moments later she nodded to Rush,   “Do it, but be quick. The wolves are easily startled, but will return soon enough.”   Rush didn’t bother to reply. In a trice, he had the litter harnessed to himself and felt the back lift effortless in the air. A quick glance revealed the tell-tale glow of magic from the stallion who raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seconds later they were off again, this time moving swiftly, and seemingly in a straight line towards a distant yellow light. Was that the light he’d seen earlier? In this peculiar magical glow, it was hard to get his bearings, but at least Queenie wasn’t been thrown around like a ragdoll any more. Anyway, he would need to see to her later; right now he just had to concentrate on following the lead mare’s light and pray to Celestia they got out of here in one piece.   Celestia…Tia…   Rush huffed, and cleared his mind. There was only the ground, the wind in his ears, the thundering of hooves, and the feeling of heading towards freedom and safety to think about now. More ‘personal’ thoughts about the Princess would have to wait. Suddenly, he noticed the change in pace - they were slowing down. The unicorn mare reduced them to a trot, and Rush quickly found they were following what was clearly a well worn path through woodland. Several more minutes passed until eventually they stopped before what looked to be a cottage or small house with a thatched roof and smoke drifting up from the chimney. Rush caught a whiff of it on the night air – it was enticing, promising warmth, hot food, hot drink and warm beds. Dear Goddesses, what he wouldn’t give for a warm bed! An older unicorn mare opened the door and spoke briefly with the others. The younger one spoke,   “Bring her inside. The stallion can stay in the shed.”   “The…hey!” Rush sputtered, “Come on now!”   The older mare muttered something and the younger one relented, although by the look on her face, clearly reluctantly. She sighed, “Very well, bring him in.” A moment later, a hoof jabbed into his chest, “If you try anything, Celestian, I’ll cut your…”   “Arith!” the older mare snapped, “For the Goddess’s sake, hold your damned fool tongue girl!”   The younger one, ‘Arith’ apparently, bobbed her head, her ears drooping almost imperceptibly. Rush could sense a power play here; was this mother and daughter? Perhaps, but that wasn’t his problem. His priority now was to get Queenie inside, warm, and comfortable.   Arith narrowed her eyes, “Come in then, and be warned…’stallion’, that we are watching you.” Rush ignored her, instead concentrating on bringing the litter into the cottage along with its panting and frighteningly pale looking mare occupant.   “Damn…” Rush looked up at the others standing around him, “Is there a bed we can use?”   The younger mare huffed, “There’s Madra’s bed, I suppose. She won’t be needing it tonight.” Nodding towards a side room, the mare waved them in, “In there.”     Rush and his silent stallion companion walked into the cosy room and carefully lifted Queenie up and onto the bed. Leaning across her, Rush carefully brushed some of her mane out of the way to listened to her chest. Queenie’s eyes were tight shut, but at least she was breathing, even if it was a little ragged and shallow.   “I’m not dead yet…” she murmured.   The white mare’s voice was pained and sounded weakened. One of Queenie’s eyes opened slightly, focussing on Rush, “No thanks to you and your mate.” She groaned as a shiver ran through her body, “Next…next time we’re running for our…for our lives…try and make it a bit less bumpy, eh?”   “Queenie, it’s alright now, we’re safe” Rush said soothingly, holding her fore hoof, we’ll get you warmed up and some proper care.”   Queen’s Court just smiled and nodded weakly as the older mare walked in. “You can leave her with us now” the mare said, and paused, staring at Rush’s coat, “You will need treatment too.”   Rush shook his head, “I’ll be fine for now. I used to be a healer; I want to help.”   “Do you?” The grey mare eyed him warily, “Very well. Arith, fetch my equipment. Harn, bring some more firewood from outside and drinks for our guests.” She clopped her hooves together and the two vanished from the room.   “Pardon me, I don’t know your name?” Rush tried a pleasant smile, but the mare just shrugged,   “My name is Fathom, earth pony stallion.”   “I’d prefer ‘Rush’” the brown stallion replied politely, “If you don’t mind, Miss Fathom.”   The grey mare’s eyes went wide and she huffed, ignoring his comments, “This is your work?” She motioned to the wrappings on Queenie’s leg and body, “I have never seen work such as this.”   “A lack of bandages” Rush replied feeling rather indignant at the mare’s attitude, “I didn’t have time to pack before the flood caught us.”   Fathom snorted, “You have done well…’Rush’.” It was quite apparent from her tone of voice that the complement was more than begrudgingly given. “Although the bindings are somewhat ‘looser’ than they should have been, it was still not a bad effort.” She looked up at him from under her long eyebrows, her large lantern yellow eyes suggesting a wisdom and power far beyond anything he had seen short of Tia’s magic. Where all unicorns like this? He couldn’t help but stare at her horn and felt a strange compulsion to reach out and touch it. The mare nickered,   “Haven’t you seen a unicorn before?” she asked, and returned to unwrapping Queenie’s bindings.   Rush swallowed and felt his cheeks flush, “Forgive me, I…” He licked his lips, “No, not many.”   Fathom nodded her thanks to the younger mare who appeared in the doorway, floating a case of herbs, ointments and other items of the healers craft that Rush could only stare at and marvel upon. Fathom removed the last of the wrappings and peered closely at the swollen joint, “I suspect you have travelled far?” she asked. Rush sniffed,   “I came by river.”   The mare moved a selection of pillows to lift Queenie’s leg as a purple glow began to build around her horn, simultaneously enveloping her patient. “My mother told me that sarcasm was the poor pony’s wit” she said in her matter-of-fact manner, “However, I accept that we may have started off on the wrong hoof.” She shrugged, “But no matter, we do not turn our flanks to ponies who need it, regardless of who they are.”   Rush closed his eyes and hung his head. She was right, he was being a bloody arse, and after these ponies had saved their lives too. He huffed and bobbed his head politely, “I’m sorry Fathom. I’m not feeling myself right now, but regardless, it was wrong of me to be rude to you, especially after you and your friends helped us.”   The grey mare smiled, “You are most welcome.” Turning back to Queenie, she motioned to her leg and lowered her voice, “Your friend’s leg is certainly broken as you know, and you did the right thing using a splint. Unfortunately, the blood supply has been broken and is causing the dark swelling you can see around the area of the break.”   “Can we do anything?” Rush asked, a sudden flush of alarm running through him.   Fathom shrugged, “Possibly. We’ll need to drain it, reset her leg, and weld the bone. I can repair the blood vessels in her leg up to a point, however the rest will be up to her.”   A hoof reached out from the bed, accompanied by a look of resignation and sadness,   “Don’t worry, Rush, you did your best for me.”   “Shut up, you idiot, you’re not dying” the brown stallion snapped irritably, “You’re going to be fine.” He turned to Fathom who nodded. “See?” he said, “Fathom agrees.”   Queenie shook her head weakly, “Rush…I…I don’t…I’m not good with doctors and medical stuff and…”   Fathom leaned down to her, “Your name is Queenie, yes?” The white mare nodded. “Then look into my eyes and count to five.”   “Eh?” Queenie exclaimed, but thankfully, after a quick glance at Rush, nodded and did as she was told. Slowly, and deliberately, Fathom leaned her head towards the white mare.   “Five”   The unicorn’s horn glowed brightly, the purple light reflecting in Queenie’s eyes.   “Four”   She never reached three. Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, Queen’s Court went limp and her eyes closed as she fell into a deep magically induce slumber before Rush’s very eyes. Without another word, Fathom went to work, cleaning Queenie’s leg and muttering unintelligible incantations that flowed and pulsed in time with the glow of her magic. Rush watched in silent fascination; he’d seen magic used before, but never like this. It looked like a thing alive, a force of nature that was so simple and pure, like light itself, and yet at the same time carried an unimaginable depth of raw power that made the fur prickle along his back. For a moment he felt a twinge of jealousy: if he’d had power like this then he could have done more to help Queenie, not to mention being able to use it to manipulate objects with apparent ease – and yet, in all honesty, he hadn’t given it much thought until now. Rush examined his fore hooves; he’d managed to weave and create the litter for Queen’s Court easily enough, and even made himself a satchel too. He stared at the bag now languishing in the corner of the room; could he have done it any better with hands?   Magic thrummed through the room, distracting him. The pulsing energy was more felt than heard; it seemed to resonate in his blood, his muscle, and even his bones. Rush shuddered, trying to push away the graphic mental imagery of what he imagined was happening as opposed to what he actually could see – but that in itself was little better. Beneath him, the opened leg of Queenie glowed in the strange light, the break all too clear now. Fathom’s words rose in tempo, her magic changing with it into an energy Rush could only think of as ‘heavier’ somehow, focussing her strength and force, channelling and honing it as one would with an axe in the forest. Before his very eyes, the bone began to…move. As though time itself were being warped through the glowing light, the two halves of the bone shifted, growing, and fusing with each other, melding back into a single, perfect whole. In moments the magic shifted again, the words from Fathom and the pulsing colour softening, changing into a sharper, more refined sound, repairing the nerves, the arteries and vessels that carried the very essence of life within the stricken mare. Rush watched in open mouthed awe as the flesh knitted itself back together leaving almost no trace of what had been done, other than a neat stripe of clean skin, devoid of white fur.   The magic blinked out, replaced by the yellow glow from the fire and several candle lanterns around the room. For the first time, Rush noticed the large round eyes staring at him from the doorway. He blinked in surprise; it was like staring at a miniature version of Fathom. She was grey, with the same slick black mane and tail, but it was those large round yellow eyes that made his heart thump in his chest. He’d had a daughter once…is this what she would have looked like if she had been born in Equestria? Is this what Cherry should have looked like? The bitter sting of tears caught at the corners of Rush’s eyes, making his reach up to brush them away. He couldn’t understand: why had all of this happened? Why had he lost so much, so many of the ones he loved? Was it all some kind of joke of the Gods?   “We are all fools of the Gods.” The mare whispered to Rush, “They play their games in the world beyond ours as fate weaves us into her tapestry of eternity.” Rush jumped in surprise. “You speak your mind openly” the mare answered to his unspoken question, “You would make a poor spy.”   “Spy?” Rush said in amazement.   The mare shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.” She motioned towards the door, “Tea?”   Rush paused for a moment, glancing back at the sleeping Queenie.   “Let her rest.” Fathom said quietly, “The magic will keep her under for a few more hours while her body remembers itself.”   “Remembers…” Rush muttered, and then caught himself, hurrying after the grey mare as she vanished from the room.   The cottage, was sparsely appointed, but held just enough to be comfortable. The fire crackling in the hearth gave off a pleasing warmth, the flickering flames both relaxing and enticing, particularly in regards to the bubbling kettle that was even now being floated off its hook over to the teapot on the low table. Rush watched in silent anticipation as the water was poured quickly and the lid replaced. Four cups were already laid out, all made of a delicate type of white glazed earthenware with no handles - probably meant for unicorn use. Rush smiled; he would have been worried once, but he’d manage. Gods, he was almost salivating at the earthy and tangy aroma that was wafting from the pot. Beside him, a slight movement made him look down into the round eyes of the foal. She was staring right up at him, her large eyes looking ridiculously out of proportion for such a tiny body.   “Hello” he said politely.   The foal said nothing.   “Her name is Cinder Wind” Fathom said quietly. She placed a fine metal gauze over one of the cups, “She’s a little shy. We don’t meet many new ponies living out here.”   Rush nodded, turning his attention back to the foal, “Hello, Cinder, my name is Rush.” There was no reaction, only the glint of firelight in those bottomless orbs as they stared up at him. As cute as she was, this was quickly changing from endearing to disturbing. Fortunately, Rush’s attention was diverted by the tea being poured.   “Gods above, that smells wonderful…” he murmured.   Fathom raised an eyebrow, “Indeed.” She passed him a cup, “Now, I must have a look at those wounds on your back.”   Rush nodded in reply, far more interested in the tea and its incredible aroma. After blowing across the shimmering black surface to cool it slightly, he took a tentative sip, groaning as the hot liquid tantalised his taste buds before slipping down his throat. It was like heaven in a cup…   “Are you a pony?”   The squeaky voice nearly had him upsetting his cup. “I’m sorry?” Rush asked in surprise.   The foal moved around to his front to stare up at him again. Rush cringed slightly; apparently there was no escaping those large eyes whichever way he looked. Still, she was cute, if a little…unnerving?   “You look like a pony” she said with that childish inquisitiveness which seemed to be a universal trait in either world.   Rush smiled, “I am a pony.”   “Me too!” Cinder Wind replied with a grin. Suddenly her expression turned serious, “Where’s your horn?”   Rush chuckled, “It’s in my bag. I don’t put it on all the time, it makes my head itchy.”   Cinder Wind reached up and rubbed her head, checking her own horn was still there. Investigation complete she stood up and, balancing on her hind legs, reached up to Rush. Obligingly, he leaned down and let her rub his forehead. The little foal sat back down, shaking her head vigorously, “I don’t want to take mine off” she said emphatically, and sat back on her haunches, folding her forelegs with a sniff, “No way!”   “Mister Rush is teasing you, Cinder” Fathom said quietly, “He’s an earth pony. Remember? We taught you about the different types of ponies?”   “Uh-huh” Cinder said, picking up a cup of what smelled like fruit juice, “The lady in the bed is one too, isn’t she?”   Rush nodded, “That’s right.”   Cinder lifted a hoof, “I can do magic!” she announced and closed her eyes, “Look! Watch me!” In typical child fashion, the tiny foal somehow managed to grab the attention of the adults in the room and lowered her head, “LOOK!”   With a loud ‘pop’ a white ball of light, just like the one Arith had created, materialised above the foal, glittering and…it disappeared.   Cinder looked crest fallen, “Aw!”   Fathom nodded with a knowing smile on her face, “Well done, Cinder, but remember what I said?”   “Yeah…practice, practice, practice” Cinder huffed and went into a sulk.   Rush smiled down at her, “I though that was amazing!” he said, “I wish I could do that! You’ll be an amazing wizard one day, if you keep practicing and getting better.”   Suddenly re-energised, the foal looked up at him with her enormous eyes, “REALLY?!”   “Mmhmm” Rush nodded, taking another sip of his tea, “You’ll be super amazing.”   “Super amazing!” she squeaked, “Mama! I want to be super amazing!”   “And you can be, in the morning.” Fathom pointed towards the door, “Come on now, its way past bedtime young lady.”   “Hmph!”   “Never mind that,” Fathom laughed, “BED!”   “Just a…”   “No!”   Cinder got up with exaggerated slowness and walked to the door, turning back to Rush, “’Night, Mister Rush.”   “Night, Cinder.” Rush replied giving her a wave.   And with that, the foal vanished; hopefully following her mother’s advice. Rush chuckled to himself and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the fire and tea alike. The clink of jars behind him announced the re-appearance of the Fathom, who had moved back around to nearer the fire. She took a sip of her tea and nodded to herself,   “You’ll live.”   “Not too torn up then?” Rush asked, peering over his shoulder.   Fathom shook her head, “A few splinters, but I got them out and cleaned you up. There’s going to be a few scars of course, but a few weeks and your fur will cover them for the most part. You were lucky - the old one doesn’t normally leave much of a prospective dinner.”   “Old one?” Rush asked, “Oh, the big guy? Yeah, I think I was first on his evening menu.”   Fathom smiled, “They’re a lot more numerous than they once were. Timber wolves never used to number that many and were mostly confined to the mountain slopes.”   “But not anymore?” Rush asked.   The older mare shook her head, “The war changed many things.”   Rush felt a sudden chill, and tried to lighten the mood, “But it’s over now, and you have a beautiful little foal. How old is she?”   “Cinder? She’s three years old.” Fathom replied.   “Three?!” Rush nearly choked, “She’s already so advanced!”   “Is it so unusual?” Fathom asked, “Perhaps, to an earth pony it is.”   Rush shrugged, “I suppose so; I don’t know much about magic.” He scratched his ear, “You must be very proud of her.”   “I am.” Fathom moved closer, “What’s wrong with your ear?”   “Huh?” Rush looked up as though he could see it, “I don’t know, it’s been itching like mad since I nearly drowned in the river. Bloody thing’s driving me up the wall.”   Fathom got up and moved closer, “Put your tea down and put your head on my lap.”   “EH?!” Rush balked.   Clucking her tongue, Fathom clopped him on the shoulder, “Don’t be so stuffy, I’m not going to hurt you.”   Rush froze; this was…it felt…surely he was over thinking things, right?   “Rush?”   “Oh! Sorry…” He slid over to where Fathom was sat on her haunches, and carefully placed his head on her lap. Taking a breath, Rush closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of something else, anything other than… “Mmm…” Oh Gods, that felt so good!   “Stop wriggling!” Fathom admonished.   “Sorry.” Rush murmured, focussing on the strange sensation of something carefully scraping the inside of his ear. He felt a tingle run through his body, a sense of warmth and urgency making him feel oddly relaxed and energised at the same time. Fathom was muttering something above him, but Rush didn’t care, this felt so…he yawned…so…wonderful…   After the careful scraping, something warm and moist was run around the inside of his ear. Whatever it was, was indescribably soothing, gentle and-   “Rush?”   “Hmm?”   “You can get up now.”   “Mmm….”   “I got them all out for you.”   Rush opened his eyes and blinked away the sleepiness that was overcoming him, “Got them out?” he asked blearily.   “You had mud mites; that’s what was causing the itching. If you’d left them too long they’d have laid eggs and you could have lost your ear.”   “What?!” Rush jumped up and reached up to his ear, hesitantly touching it, “I could have lost my ear? What the hell’s wrong with this world? Everything here is trying to kill me, or eat me, or both!” Oh Gods, he wanted to go home!   Fathom shook her head and gave him a particularly mysterious smile, “Where are you from, Rush?” she asked, “You seem a little different from others ponies we’ve met.”   “Me?” Rush blinked, still a little shocked both from the wonderful sensation of having his ears cleaned, and the more than a little alarming revelation that bugs had been feasting on his poor ears! He shrugged, “I…” Suddenly he paused and cleared his throat, “I lived with monkeys up north for a while.”   “’Up north’” Fathom smiled, “Must have been hot then, I suspect? Monkeys love warm climates and deep forests.”   Rush nodded, “Oh, er, yes…yes they do: very hot up there.”   “Mmm” Fathom raised an eyebrow and brought down another selection of jars, larger earthenware ones this time. “Hungry?”   Magic enveloped the lids of the jars, and one by one, fascinating looking, and smelling, items began to emerge. Fathom clearly enjoyed the attention, and smiled quietly to herself, “I’ll put something on for dinner. Meanwhile, make yourself comfortable - you look exhausted.   He was. Rush stretched, wincing slightly at the soreness on his flank where the skin had been so recently torn, and yawned expansively; he was warm, comfortable, and most importantly, he was safe – they both were. The cottage, from what he could see of it, was very well made indeed. All the joints were well cut and dressed, the logs planed and shaped, probably with magic if he had to make a guess, but there was a certain pride in the way it had been put together. Whoever the ponies were who’d made this had built it to last, creating not just a structure, but a home. Rush closed his eyes, remembering his old house - more a hut if he were honest - but to him, it had been his home for many years. The palace, as beautiful as it was, felt stark and empty by comparison. Sometimes he longed for the cosy fire, the feeling of being in control of his own life, and the quiet of the bamboo forest. But he’d given that all up, hadn’t he? He’d left it all behind, and it was probably for the best…wasn’t it? He rubbed his muzzle and leaned against the wall, his eyes stinging slightly. “Damn it all…” he muttered. When had he become so bloody emotional? Were all ponies like this?   A hoof on his leg made him start,   “Rush? Are you alright? You’re not in pain are you?”   He shook his head, “No, I’m fine, just a little weary. I think nights out under the stars with no shelter, food, or a warm bed have taken it out of me more than I thought.”   Fathom nodded and returned to stirring the pot over the fire, “You’re very lucky. The Goddess must have been smiling upon you to have us find you out in the forest the way we did.”   Rush sighed, “Never a truer word was said” he murmured, “I think I met one, or at least, I think I did.”   Fathom chuckled, “Perhaps.” Turning to Rush she peered into his eyes, making him blink in surprise. The mare lifted a hoof apologetically, “Oh! My apologies, I didn’t mean to make you jump, I was just taken with how blue your eyes are.” She chuckled, “I knew ponies with eyes as blue as the summer sky and as deep as the waters of the ice sea, once. They were better days…better days…” She gave herself a shake, “But listen to me ramble! Anyway, I must say you seem to be a hit with little Cinder, she’s really taken a shine to you.”   Rush smiled, leaning back against the wall and closed his eyes, “There’s no accounting for taste.”   “Your mare may disagree.” Fathom replied teasingly.   Rush shrugged, “Maybe.” He opened one eye, “Wait, do you mean Queenie?”   “The mare in the next room is not your mate?” Fathom seemed genuinely perplexed, “But…I don’t understand.”   Holding up a hoof to forestall her, Rush shook his head before any more misunderstandings occurred, “She’s my friend. We were working at the logging camp together when the flood hit us and, well, here we are. We’ve been trudging back upriver ever since.”   Fathom nodded her understanding, “Where are you trying to get to?”   “Paddock” Rush replied.     “Paddock?” Fathom exclaimed, “My goodness, you are a long way from home!” She pointed to a large map that had been pinned to the wall, “You’re about three days travel from Paddock.” She motioned towards the long line, clearly denoting a river, “See?”   “Er…” Rush scratched his head apologetically, “My, um, reading skills are not so great.”   A knowing smile ghosted across Fathom’s face as though she almost expected him to say that, but if she thought it, it didn’t come across in her words, “We’re here, on the edge of the Dragon Fall forest, and here, is the river, and here…” she pointed to a small assemblage of blocks, “is Paddock. This map is a little old, so Paddock wasn’t known as that then - it was originally little more than a few cottages and farms.” She snorted, “How times change.”   Rush peered at the map closely, “No palace?”   “It wasn’t built when this was made” Fathom replied. A hint of sadness tinged her voice as she continued, “The Princesses lived in the capital, here,” she indicated another portion of the map, “in what was known as the Castle of the Two Sisters.” Fathom smiled, “Now two, once joined, are now divided by the eternal void of the night sky and the unity we once held so dear, is lost…maybe forever.”   “Luna…” Rush said quietly, “She was Celestia’s sister.”   “Is, her sister” Fathom corrected, “Luna ascended to godhood as the Goddess Nightmare Moon. All feared her, many loved her, but her sister…” She huffed, “Ah! It is a story for another day. Suffice to say that the land was torn apart by war and now, at last, we have the peace that so many ponies wished for.” She walked over to the pot and gave it a final stir. Deftly, Fathom poured a little into another spoon and floated it over to Rush, “Taste.”   After so long eating whatever he could find, the flavour and warmth was like a sledgehammer of deliciousness battering his taste buds. “My Gods,” he gasped, “it’s wonderful!”   “Ha! You have good taste, I see.” Fathom beamed at him, “Now, it’s time to fetch the others and get them all fed. I’ll keep some to one side to heat up for when your friend wakes.”   Sure enough, the two other ponies Rush had already met, entered the room: the younger female, Arith, and the male whose name he’d heard but couldn’t quite recall. They were both unicorns, in fact, they were all unicorns: all with the same grey coats, yellow eyes and black manes. Rush furrowed his brow, but kept his opinions to himself; perhaps this sort of thing happened in isolated communities in Equestria? That said they weren’t that far from civilisation, at least according to the map at any rate. Rush nodded politely to the two ponies who barely even glanced at him before sitting down at the table and taking their spoons up in their magic. For his part, being completely devoid of such incredible power, Rush used his hooves to lift his bowl.   “I believe you know Arith” Fathom said politely, “The big fellow there is her mate, Harn.”   Rush nodded to them, “A pleasure to meet you both.”   Harn ignored him completely, but at least Arith gave a begrudging, “Hmph.”   “Forgive us, Rush, we’re not used to visitors living out here in the forest.” Fathom smiled, “My daughters mean the world to me, and we are rather protective of them, as I’m sure you’ll understand.”   Rush nodded, but…’mate’? He hadn’t heard ponies using that term before, had he? Well, other than Grove calling him ‘mate’ of course, but that was just another way of saying ‘friend’, wasn’t it? He scratched his head trying to remember, but if somepony had said something about this, he couldn’t recall. In all likelihood, she meant Arith was Harn’s marefriend or wife. Whatever it was, it was yet another piece of information to be thrown into the pile of ‘unknowns’ that would doubtless one day make complete sense – hopefully.     “You have a mate?” Fathom asked.   Nodding, Rush picked up a piece of bread from the floating platter before him, “I have” he said, “She’ll probably be worried sick about me. After the river caught us, I lost track of time.”   Arith, munching on a piece of the surprisingly light bread, looked askance at Rush and sniffed, “If we hadn’t found you when we did, your mate would have been looking for you in the belly of that wolf.”   “I know” Rush sighed, “I never thanked you properly. Arith, Harn, Fathom - thank you, all of you, you saved our lives.”   Harn huffed and gave a Rush a curious look that suggested something approaching, what, surprise? Maybe even respect? He wasn’t sure, but at least he’d ‘sort of’ acknowledged him – sort of. Still, judging by the size of him, Harn would likely have been able to deal with those timber wolves single hoofed. Going by build alone, he would be a formidable opponent, even without the magic.   “Aren’t you going to ask what we we’re doing out here?” Arith asked. The hint of sarcasm in her voice wasn’t lost on her mother who shot her a sidelong glance. Rush shrugged it off,   “No.” He savoured a mouthful of the stew and groaned as the wonderful flavours screamed at him about just how much he’d been missing out on. Here was real food, real home cooking…Gods, he could get used to this! Still, breakfast muffins with jam and butter were, maybe surprisingly, one of the things he missed most about the palace. He looked up, noticing the two mares were watching him intently, apparent expecting him to elaborate on his statement. Swallowing, Rush licked his lips and began: “I lived in the mountains, in a house I built with my own han…er, hooves, and made a living by collecting river reeds to sell at market.” He grinned ironically, “Somepony always needs mats.”   “Indeed they do” Fathom said, “Please, tell us about it. Being so isolated, it’s nice to hear stories of other lands.”   Rush looked down at his hooves, staring at their chipped and rough surface, remembering the feel of the reeds in his hands, how his knife cut through them so smoothly it was like slicing air. He smiled distantly, “I wouldn’t know where to begin” he said quietly, “The bamboo forest was very different to what you have here. It grows tall, and straight. The leaves are thin and whisper the song of the world as the wind passes through them to the silent floor below. The river was as pure as the air itself, and clearer than the finest glass. It was…different.” He huffed, giving himself a shake, “Forgive me, I haven’t been in Equestria that long, and it’s taking me a while to acclimatise.”   Arith stared at him, “You haven’t been in Equestria long?” she asked, “Where were you? The Llamalian Empire? The Yak Kingdom?”   Fathom tapped her hoof on the table, “Arith, please, Rush is our guest!” Rush shook his head, “It’s alright, Fathom, you have a right to know. After all, you have invited me into your home, cared for me and Queenie; it’s the least I can do to tell you.” He cleared his throat, “I’m from another world.”   Arith’s eyes went wide, and then barked out a laugh, “Ha! You nearly had me going there!”   Fathom raised an eyebrow, “And a sense of humour too!” She raised a hoof as Rush opened his mouth to speak, “Personally, I would like to know more about how you made mats from river reeds. As you can see, most of what we have here is hoof made, with a little help from our magic of course.”   Rush took another mouthful of the wonderful stew and bobbed his head, “It would be my pleasure. If you have some time and tools, I may be able to teach you what I know if you like.”   “Would you?!” Fathom clopped her hooves together, “Arith, Harn, what do you think?”   “Yippee…mats.” Arith muttered. Harn just raised an eyebrow and nodded.   “Thank you Rush, it would be an absolute pleasure.” Fathom covered her muzzle with a foreleg to stifle a yawn, “Now, I’m afraid that after today’s excitement I’m a little tired. Young Cinder has the right of it I think, and you’ve had quite the ordeal too.” She got down from her chair and stretched her legs, “Arith, come give me a hoof with getting the spare room tidied up for Rush to use.”   “Mother!” Arith moaned, “I’ve barely finished!”   “Tish tosh!” Fathom said, clopping her daughter’s flank as she headed towards the door, “Come and give me a hoof girl and shake a tail, eh?”   “Huh! You’re not the one scouring the countryside for…” The young mare’s voice faded away as she disappeared through the door, only to be replaced by Fathom popping her head back through a moment later,   “Harn? Be a love and keep our guest company would you? We won’t be long.”   Rush looked over to Harn; the large unicorn was helping himself to the last of the stew and completely ignoring him. Despite usually preferring his own company, Rush felt uncharacteristically disappointed by Harn’s silence. Years of near isolation hadn’t exactly helped his conversational skills of course, but by and large, since coming to Equestria he’d begun to feel as though he wanted to become more…’sociable’. Gods above, what was happening to him?! He sighed and leaned back in the chair; Fathom was right, he was absolutely worn out. Turning to Harn he lifted a hoof and paused - the unicorn stallion was staring right at him.   “So, Harn…” Rush began, desperately trying to think of a conversation topic, “Have you lived here long?”   Silence.   “It must be hard living out here. Do you grow your own food?”   Silence.   Rush’s smiled died on his face under the vacant stare of the unresponsive Harn. He turned back to his cup of tea and stared into the dwindling contents, praying that he could somehow make the last couple of mouthfuls last long enough for at least somepony to come in and break through the now almost impenetrable atmosphere. Whoever Harn was, and for that matter, whoever these ponies were, they held a peculiar mixture of kindness and hostility, as though he was welcome there with some sort of proviso that he wasn’t yet aware of. Most likely it was along the lines of not overstaying their welcome. Harn’s ‘welcome’ on the other hoof, apparently hadn’t existed in the first place. Fortunately, with the assistance of magical healing and some food, drink and a good nights sleep, with any luck Rush would be able to get Queenie home and find out what had happened to the rest of the logging team. Just as importantly, he was worried about Tia, and how she would react to his disappearance. But, now that he thought about it, how come she hadn’t found them? She could fly, her pegasi could fly too, and since the river only flows in one direction, how come nopony had found them? He blinked, staring into the cup of tea; it had been days since they’d been washed away, days they could have been found. They’d had fires lit – in fact that was one of the first things he’d done, both for heat and for signalling. Dear Gods, the wood had been so damp the smoke must have been visible for miles! Did that mean…   “Rush? We’ve made up a place for you in the storage room. It’s not much, but it’ll get you by until we can get you both home” Fathom waved Rush through the doorway, “I’m sorry about Harn, he’s such a chatter box, sometimes he just doesn’t know when to shut up!”   Rush all but launched himself from the stool and through the open door, smiling and nodding his thanks to the grey unicorn mare. Bloody Harn! Gods above, what was wrong with the fellow?   “Are you alright?” Fathom asked, “You seem a little agitated.”   Rush shook his head, “No, I’m fine, thanks Fathom. I’m just dead on my hooves.” He paused and looked back at her over his shoulder, “Oh, and thank you. I don’t know what else to say, but…if I can do something to repay your kindness, please let me know.”   Fathom smiled back at him, “It’s enough to know that we were able to help another pony, Rush. When Queen’s Court is better, we’ll take you both to Paddock. I’m sure your mate will be missing you.”   Rush smiled sadly, “Yeah.”   The door closed with the metallic click of the latch. Looking around him, the storage room was exactly that - a room of boxes, barrels and cloth that had been quickly cleared to make space for a pallet bed that proved to be surprisingly comfortable. Beside the bed, his kindly hosts had thoughtfully left a jug of water, a cleaning cloth for the morning, and an oil lantern. The effect was one of simplicity and practicality, but to a stallion who had been living under the stars with little more than branches to keep him warm, it was the very height of luxury. Rush groaned, letting his fatigue sweep over him and take him into its warm embrace.   ************************   “…and I keep saying they shouldn’t be here, but like always, you won’t listen will you?”   “We couldn’t have just left them there, they would have been killed! Would you really want that on your conscience?”   “We wouldn’t have had anything on our conscience, Arith. The wolves would have dealt with the problem and that would have been that. But no, thanks to you, now we have two Celestian’s here in our midst, and you know what that means.”   Rush stirred, the voices on other side of the wall drifting through were faint, but still managed to carry the weight of their words:   The female’s voice sounded irritated, “That’s not our way, Harn, it never was and it never shall be. Guests are treated as family here – you know that.”   The male voice, Harn’s apparently, huffed, “Guests? They’re the ones who murdered our people! They’re the reason why we’re out here in the arse end of nowhere scratching a living in the dirt! Our home has gone, Arith, gone forever because of these damned-”   The female voice of Arith, spoke urgently, “Harn! For the Goddess’s sake, keep your voice down!”   “I don’t care!” Harn snapped back, “They know what they did; they…” He paused, “Anyway, we’ve got more pressing matters now. If they come looking for these two, they could come here and-”   There was a faint click and the creak of a door. Cinder’s unmistakable squeaky voice drifted through, “Sis? What’s going on? I don’t like it when you fight, it’s not nice.”   Arith’s voice sounded calmer, “It’s alright, love, we’re not fighting, we’re just having a chat about things. I think uncle Harn was being a bit louder than he should have been, weren’t you, uncle Harn?”   There was a snort of agreement.   Rush closed his eyes and let out the breath he’d been keeping in as the voices dwindled into a faint background hum. What did it mean? He pulled the sheets around himself and over his head; they’d used that word again, the one he hadn’t heard for a very long time, for a very…very long…time…   ************************   Fire. It was all around him, accenting the chilling screams of people running for their lives and blending into a crescendo of despair with the pitiful cries of the dying. Smoke burned Rush’s lungs, making him cough and gasp for breath in the dust and debris strewn landscape. Fog blended with the smoke from the ruin that had once been somebody’s beloved home, their sanctuary from the cold and unforgiving world around them, and now…now it was gone…it was all gone…   Something warm and slick grabbed his leg. Rush froze; his heart was in his mouth as he stared down, taking in the bloodied and ragged form of the woman he knew so well, and yet…   “Mother?”   Her hollow eyes and pale face stared back at him,   “Run…”   “Mother...” Rush’s lips were so dry, his throat burning with the acrid smoke.   “Run…”   He tried, he tried and just…couldn’t. Nothing was working: not his legs, his arms, his hands - nothing.   “Run…”   Rush struggled, desperate to get away, and yet despite his mother’s pleading words, she hung on, locking his legs to the ground.   And then the others came.   Slowly, from out of the fog, the smoke, and flickering yellow flames, came the shambling, torn, and ragged form of his niece, Blossom,   “Uncle? Uncle, why did you leave us? Why?”   Rush opened his mouth to answer, to cry out, but no words would come - only silence…   “Rush?” It was Cray, the heavy set blacksmith from the village smithy. His face was burned, blackened and charred, his hair all but singed away to nothing, making his eyes stand out in the ruin of what had once been a face, “Why did you leave us, Rush? I thought you were my friend? You abandoned me; you left me to die…”   NO! Rush fought harder and harder, desperate to escape, but more were coming now, more and more. It was a tide of people, villagers, friends, family…but they were gone…all dead…all of them!   “Why Rush?”   “Why did you leave us?”   “It’s so cold here…so cold…” He tried to scream, he tried to get away, but his legs wouldn’t work and they were getting closer and… The cries and calls stopped abruptly. Before him, in amongst the debris and smashed pieces of the family’s home, the floor bulged upwards. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, a form began to take shape, rising up, morphing out of the smoke. It was a beast, a creature of the darkest night and his deepest nightmares. The others moved away, bowing and scraping before their master, the keeper of the keys to the nightmare realm…   The demon shook out its wings, its axe glinting in the firelight, slick with the blood of the freshly slain. Its mane blew in the eddies created by the heat while ashes that had once been the living, sluiced off the monster’s body.   “At last…” Rend smiled, “I have been waiting for you…Celestian…”   ************************   “Rush? RUSH!”   “Wha?! Oh Gods!” Rush sat up, his head in his hooves, “What, where…?”   “Rush, it’s me, Queenie, you were having a nightmare. Dear Goddesses, you were screaming the place down! Poor Cinder’s terrified and the whole household’s in an uproar.” The white mare shook her mane, staring into his eyes as if looking for something other than the last fading images of that terrible monster, Rend. “Are you alright?”   Rush took a breath, “I am…thanks for asking.” He reached across for the water jug and gulped the contents down without bother with the cup, “Queenie? What are you doing out of bed?” he asked, “Your leg…”   “-Is fine.” she smiled, “Better than fine actually, apart from, well…the bald patches.” She grimaced, “I’ve had worse. Anyway, you can’t knock magical healing.” “Not that I’d knock what you did for me of course.” She added quickly.   Rush rolled his eyes, “Of course.” Slowly, he rose to his hooves and poured some water onto the wash cloth and began rubbing himself down, “Good Gods, that was awful – it was so real.” He let out a long sigh, trying to push the terrifying imagery from his waking mind, “I’ll have to apologise to everypony and make it up to young Cinder.”   “Don’t worry about it, she’s in with her mum now.” Queenie replied, “I’m more worried about you.”    “Well don’t be.” Rush said, turning to face her, “I’m fine, it was just a bad dream. Anyway, what about you? We’ve barely been here five minutes and you’re up and about!”   The mare shrugged and clopped the floor with her hind leg, “All in order, boss, see?” She smiled. Queenie’s face showed the lines and hollows of her ordeal, but her eyes, those bright orange orbs, shone with the light of life as bright as the sunrise outside. She tossed her mane, “You have to admit, Fathom knows her stuff.”   She certainly did. Rush had watched her at work and had been amazed at the ease with which the mare had wielded her magic, but... “Hang on, you were three sheets to the wind when I saw you last night, and you’ve met the family already?” He stared out of the small window, “What time is it?”   “About six in the morning” Queenie said, “But then, you know you’ve been asleep for a whole day, right? I was worried sick, but Fathom said you were exhausted and to leave you be. Next thing I knew, you were bellowing like all the demons of Tartarus were chasing you.” She lifted Rush’s hoof and gave it a rub, “Are you sure you’re alright now?”   Rush nodded, “Gods, I hope so.” He smiled slightly, “I still can’t believe you’re up and about. You’re sure you’re alright?”   “Will you stop flapping!” Queenie admonished with a chuckle, “We’ve both survived, we’re both fit and well, and Fathom said she’ll have Harn and Arith take us to Paddock tomorrow after we’ve had another day of rest, food, and good company.” She leaned forward, flicking some errant mane hairs from Rush’s muzzle, her voice gentle and kind, “Do you want to talk about the dream? When I was a foal, mum used to come and talk to me about them and make them go away.” She smiled, “She was a good mare.”   Rush rubbed his head. The images were mostly faded now, but the sound of that beast’s laughter felt as though it had lodged in a corner of his mind like a barnacle on a ships hull. Perhaps if he-   Queenie’s hoof gently stroked his and he looked down at the neat leg, up to the surprisingly soft features of the white mare. She seemed different from how she’d appeared when he’d first met her, as though the trials they’d been through together hadn’t hardened her, but rather had the opposite effect, making her more…feminine somehow. Rush smiled, returning the gesture,   “It was just a dream Queenie, that’s all.” He leaned forward and nuzzled her, “Thanks though…really.”   “You’re welcome” the mare replied quietly. She took a long breath, “Come on, let’s see if we can get you a cup of tea. Fathom left everything ready in case you fancied some.”   True to her word, the pot, cups and kettle all sat waiting, and a few minutes on the fire had the water boiling and ready to pour onto the fragrant tea leaves. Rush groaned as the smell of the tea wafted up and around his muzzle, the steam tantalising and invigorating. As tired as he was, as weary and stiff as his muscles felt, he always had time for a good cup of tea. He yawned, feeling the stiffness and accumulated aches slowly draining away, but what he really wanted was some fresh air to get himself moving again. First things first though…   The door opened – it was Arith,   “Back in the world of the living, are you?” she said with a wipe of her bleary eyes, “You made enough noise to wake the dead.”   “Sorry” Rush replied, hanging his head.   “Hmph.” Arith clambered into a chair next to Queenie and reached out with her hooves to pour herself a cup of tea. Rush watched her in surprise,   “No magic?” he asked.   The grey mare’s bloodshot eyes glowered back at him, “Do I look like I’m in any condition to use magic?”   “Just ignore her, she’s always miserable in the morning.” Fathom trotted in, carrying Cinder on her back, “You’re not a morning pony, are you love?”   Arith sniffed in response.   Lifting his hoof, Rush opened his mouth to apologise, but Fathom beat him to it,   “Anypony fancy some toast?”   Apparently somepony, or rather some ’foal’, did. Cinder, instantly re-energised despite the hour and broken sleep, sat up and held her forelegs in the air,   “I want toast!”   Her mother chuckled, “Of course, love. Come on then, you keep our guests company while I get everything ready.”   Fathom set to work while the tiny unicorn foal was lifted up onto a high-seat by her older sister. Rush wasn’t good with equine ages, and to him Fathom looked barely older than her eldest daughter. He glanced at the white mare beside him who was cooing over the excited, toast anticipating foal. Queenie didn’t look much older than Arith, but was certainly younger than Fathom by his estimations. In his world, his old world, apparently you could tell a horse’s age by looking at their teeth. He was fairly certain that if he asked Queenie to ‘open up!’ however, he’d end up with a mouthful of hoof.   Cinder was currently being entertained with a tickling game that had her in riots of laughter, and the happy, shrieking centre of attention for the mares. After a while though, the first round of toast appeared, duly slathered in butter and strawberry jam. Although offered, Rush insisted on Cinder having the first round; if for no other reason than to keep the deafening creature quiet - and sticky toast and jam was a winner every time.   “Do you and Harn have any plans for foals of your own?” Queenie asked.   Arith shrugged, “One day, maybe, but things are a little…complicated.”   “I can imagine.” Queenie replied, “Living out here must have its trials.”   “Ha! You could say that!” Arith said, tossing her mane, “You don’t know the half of it!”   Fathom put down the next plate of toast and shot her daughter a disapproving look, “What my daughter is trying to say, is that living in the forest has its ups and its downs just like anywhere else. Personally, I don’t care for town life and prefer peace and quiet.” She pushed the plate of toast into the centre of the table, “Help yourself.” She caught Ariths gaze, “Queenie…”   Arith huffed.   “It looks a very well made home.” Rush said honestly, casting his gaze around the room, “I made my own place in the mountains, but it was nowhere near as well constructed as this. It’s incredible.”   Fathom shrugged, “Magic. My husband, Pari, and I built this place some years ago. It was to be our little sanctuary.” A sudden, fleeting ghost of a smile passed across her features, “Was…”   “I’m sorry” Queenie said quietly, “Is Pari…?”   Fathom nodded, “He passed away just before young Cinder here was born.”   “Oh, Fathom, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry…” Queenie hung her head, “I…”   The older mare placed a hoof on Queenie’s shoulder and gave her a quick nuzzle, “Thank you, but it can’t be helped. The Goddess called for him and he answered her summons. We will be together again some day, and be able to run through the green fields beneath the glow of her loving moon.”   Rush frowned, “Moon?”   “We worship the Goddess of the Night.” Arith said proudly, “The one, true Goddess.”   Rush nodded, “I don’t know much about the Gods and Goddesses of Equestria yet” he said munching on his toast, “I wasn’t much for that sort of thing back home, but I still attended the festivals when I could.”   The atmosphere at the table plummeted like a stone and Rush froze, the toast halfway to his mouth. Queenie was staring at Arith, whose expression had quickly turned to one of abject contempt.   Rush swallowed, “Is everything alright?”   Fathom’s voice was strained but remained cordial, “Of course” she said politely, “We are very open minded here, aren’t we, Arith?”   The young mare blinked and gave herself a shake, “Of course, mother.”   There is a time during any conversation, or visit, when the astute guest realises it is time to leave. This appeared to be that exact time and, Rush realised to his dismay, he’d blundered right into it. Queenie cleared her throat and came to the rescue,   “You’ll have to forgive Rush, he was living with another people most of his life and only came to Equestria recently. He knows little to nothing of our ways.” She shrugged, “The Goddess knows we’ve tried to enlighten him, but you know what it’s like with stallions!”   Arith snorted, “Huh! You don’t have to tell me. I keep telling Harn we have to remember our traditions and teachings, but he’s more interested in hunting and fishing than anything spiritual.”   Queenie nodded, “Exactly! Anyway, I intend to educate our ignorant friend here by taking him to the temple of the two sisters when we get back and speak to the oracle of ages.” She smiled, “Everypony should meet her at least once in their lifetime.”   Fathom nodded, “True, true.”   Rush raised his hoof, “Erm, not wanting to sound any more ignorant, but what’s an oracle?”     Fathom answered, “You may know her more as a wise mare, a pony of sight and insight into the mysteries of life and the afterlife.”   “She’s a spiritual leader?” Rush asked.   Fathom shook her head, “Ponies don’t have spiritual ‘leaders’, Rush, only guides. The pathways to the Goddesses, both of the sun and the moon, are there to be found.” She smiled, “One only has to open their eyes.”   “I thought…” Rush swallowed.   “That Celestia is a Goddess?” Fathom gave a knowing smile, “Whether she is or not, that is a decision only you can make.”   “Pah!” Arith spat, “There is only one Goddess, and the white witch-”   “ARITH!” Fathom snapped, “We have guests! Will you insult our lady and our ancestors by forgetting such common courtesies? Have some self control girl!”   The young grey mare looked as though she were about to say something and then a strange thing happened: her features relaxed, a sudden calm coming across them that made her look…kinder, gentler even. Rush blinked in surprise as the female nodded her head and smiled politely,   “Rush, Queen’s Court, I beg your forgiveness. You are guests in our home and I should…I know…better than to discuss matters that may cause misunderstandings.” She bowed her head, “Forgive me.”   Queenie lifted a hoof, “There’s nothing to forgive, Arith. Rush is an adult in body, but a child when it comes to understanding our ways.” She turned to Rush and gestured urgently. Not certain what to do, he fell back on the ways of the people he knew: he got up from the table, sank to his haunches and bowed his whole body,   “Please, I beg your forgiveness for my unwitting ignorance.”   In a flurry, Queenie jumped down from the table and helped him up, “Oh, Rush, there’s no need for that! Come, please, you are both guests who have been through so much together.” She grinned, “Honestly, Rush, you’re going to have to tell us all about this land you lived in before you came to Equestria.” Fathom laughed, “I love to hear tales of far away lands and I have to say, you have intrigued me. Would you mind?”   Rush swallowed. Oh Gods! How was he going to get out of this one! He had a horrible feeling that the mere mention of Celestia would go down like a lead kite with these ponies – why exactly, he couldn’t quite put his hoof on, but…if they worshipped the moon, and Luna was the embodiment of the moon, then…Oh, crap! He took a breath and sighed it out slowly; he would tell his tale to his hosts, he would explain what it was like amongst the ‘hairless pink monkeys’ as those who knew him had taken to calling humans, but he would leave out certain elements – such as having been born one! No, he would tell the truth, but just…’embellish’ it slightly, giving them the story they wanted and avoid any awkwardness. He looked round at Queenie who was giving him a worried and yet oddly enthusiastic look, suggesting she wanted to hear his tale too, despite having heard much of it already. For that matter, it was likely she knew as much about him as Tia did…maybe more even.   “Can I have some more toast, mummy?” The butter and jam soaked face peered up at her mother with the attendant large round yellow eyes.   “What do we say?”   “Please?”   “Good girl.” Fathom nodded to her daughter and began preparing another piece of the delicious toast for her, “Rush is going to tell us a story, won’t that be nice?”   “Oooh, yes! A story!” Cinder clopped her tiny hooves together and beamed happily at Rush, “Is it exciting Uncle Rush?”   “Uncle…?” Rush paused, feeling a sudden pull on his heart that made him gasp in a breath. Oh Gods and spirits, he was going to have to do this wasn’t he? And why the hell did he keep seeing Blossom whenever he looked at Cinder? Now she’d called him uncle in that childish way foals did, but… He nodded, wiping his eyes with a foreleg, “I hope so, little one,” he said smiling, “I really do.”