Animal Friends

by Elkia Deerling

Chapter fourteen: prisoners of war

With a jolt, Fluttershy opened her eyes and sat upright. She breathed heavily, and looked as if she had risen from the dead, illuminated by a ray of watery sunlight.

Instantly, she recalled the dream she had. There was magic, and an eye, and fire. Fluttershy blinked her eyes. The feeling of fear still occupied her mind like a dark cloud, and she shook her head, trying to whisk it away.

Fluttershy scooted over to the rim of Radagast’s bed, and stepped out onto the floor. But the wounds on her hooves threatened to make her fall to the floor. A glow of pain traveled through her legs, and Fluttershy dropped to the bed again. Raising one hoof, another shock occupied her body, as she realized what kind of wounds they were.

Burn marks.

She couldn’t recall her dream exactly and accurately, as is common with most dreams, but she knew there had been fire.

“Radagast?”

Even though Fluttershy’s voice was meek and soft, Radagast must surely hear her, for his cottage was but a small one.

Fluttershy hadn’t heard mumbling, the turning of pages, or the scribble of Radagast’s quill as he worked on the spell that would send her back home. And Fluttershy couldn’t hear any sounds coming from the kitchen, if Radagast would be preparing a cheerful breakfast.

“Radagast?”

Her second call was louder, and now it reached some ears.

Alexander the robin came flying down. He had been keeping watch all night, but had fallen asleep, and silently scolded himself for that, letting out a shrill chirp. A couple of other animals came hopping, slithering, crawling, or scuttling out of their hiding places and nests. They stopped and gathered themselves around the bed. Badgers tilted their striped heads, birds fluttered down onto the table and hopped restlessly from one foot to the other, mice stood on their hind legs. All of them were waiting for Fluttershy to say something.

“Oh, thank you all so much for your concern,” Fluttershy said, looking each creature in the eyes and smiling a soft smile. “I had the most awful of dream tonight. I dreamed about Radagast trying to get me back to Equestria, but then something went wrong and there was a lot of fire.”

With the word ‘fire,’ Fluttershy looked at her wounds. She hung her head down. “I’m confused…”

All of the animals saw that Fluttershy needed some support. A few mice jumped on the bed and rubbed their furry heads against her. Some chickadees landed on her shoulder, which tickled a bit. The squirrels wrapped their fuzzy tails around Fluttershy’s neck, like a boa. Even some snakes tried to hug her, wrapping around her legs and waist, although they knew that their cold blood would spread little warmth.

Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile. All the animals were so nice, and now the thought of that hostile dream drifted away on their kindness. “Thank you so much. I love all of you too.”

Then, the animals gave her some space, as Fluttershy did another attempt to stand up, more carefully now. She still felt sore, but she managed it, and gazed around Rhosgobel. Radagast’s cloak, staff, and hat were gone, and the cottage looked empty without his presence, despite the animals. When her gaze reached the table, Alexander sprang into view.

“Where is Radagast, little Alexander?”

“He’s gone.”

For a second, Fluttershy recoiled as the high-pitched voice of the robin reached her ears. Apart from the wolf, she hadn’t heard any animal speak before, and had forgotten that they could. She recomposed herself.

“What’s the matter?” Alexander said.

“Oh… eh… nothing.” Fluttershy said, feeling more than a bit silly. All this time she had spent with Alexander, and she hadn’t even asked him to speak. “I’m just surprise to hear you speak my language.”

“You gotta get used to that, Fluttershy,” Alexander said. “We can all speak that way, you know?”

And to proof the robin’s words, all the mice, birds, squirrels, ferrets, badgers, snakes, and other animals shouted some form of ‘yes,’ or, ‘of course,’ or, ‘naturally.’

When the cacophony of animal voices calmed down, Fluttershy turned to Alexander again, who puffed out his chest as he took up the task of representing all the animals in Rhosgobel.

“I’m sorry I forgot that for a second,” Fluttershy said. “I’ve had a very strange night.” She looked at her wounds again. “I think…”

“That’s alright, Fluttershy,” Alexander said. “We often feel confused in Radagast’s company as well. He is a confusing person sometimes.” The little robin let out a few rapid tweets, as a means of laughter.

“Alexander!” one of the owls said from the top of a bookcase. It flapped its wings and landed with a thud on the table next to the robin. “This is no time for jokes, for moon’s sake. Didn’t you hear the urgency in Radagast’s voice when he spoke? I thought you were supposed to be a master of intonation, being a songbird.”

Alexander let out a chirp in the direction of the owl. “Yes, Theodulfus, I have, in fact, heard the urgency in his voice. I was just getting at that message alright?”

“Very well,” Theodulfus said, folding up his wings as a person would fold its arms. ”Let us hear it, then.”

“Fluttershy,” Alexander said, his tone no longer a sing-song collection of sounds, but more monotonous and serious. “Radagast said we should take you to the Old Forest Road, where we must look for the elves. Radagast has gone on a dangerous mission, he said. And he might not return, he said. We must go now and find the Road and the elves while there’s still time.“

Fluttershy could never have guessed that such a cheerful songbird would be able to speak with such a grave voice. Suddenly, she felt herself stuttering. “W-w-what do you mean ‘while there’s still time?’”

Now Alexander looked uncomfortable as well. “Well… eh… I… I can’t remember.

Next to him, Theodulfus shook his head. “You really haven’t been listening, have you? Radagast said that he would be going on a dangerous mission. If he wouldn’t return soon we would have to fly.” His big, orange eyes looked down on the little robin. “And of course, don’t forget the warning he gave us: there will be evil upon the Greenwood, in the form of an eye, and—”

Fluttershy let out a loud gasp, and felt a shudder go through her whole body and mind. The eye she had dreamed of, and Radagast had seen it too? Had it been more than a dream?

“I saw it,” Fluttershy said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I saw the eye in my dreams.”

Suddenly, a black shape came into view, dashing from the stairs to the attic and into the living room. It accompanied its flight with a high squeaking sound, jumping in and out of the range which other animals could hear. It flapped around in a ball of black leather, and all the other animals followed its movements.

Fluttershy jumped at the sudden flash of darkness, but when she realized what it was, she calmed down. The bat flew up, until it curled its toes around a wooden beam, folded its wings, and looked at Fluttershy upside-down. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, and I am also terribly sorry to have eavesdropped on you. But, you see, when you have ears like mine, it is difficult not hear everything when you don’t want to. But I am trailing off here. What I wanted to say to you, Miss Fluttershy, is that your dream wasn’t a dream.”

Fluttershy stared back at the bat, trying to find its tiny eyes. “What do you mean, Mister… eh…”

“Malfegor is the name,” the bat said. ”And it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Fluttershy. I must say, I feel quite happy to know that I am not the only flying mammal in Middle Earth anymore. I have the feeling that we are quite connected, even though our species are vastly different, don’t you think?”

“Eh…” Fluttershy had no idea what to say, as she thought that Malfegor couldn’t be more right, although not exactly in the way he thought he was.

“Oops. Excuse me there, Miss Fluttershy,” Malfegor said, upon seeing the doubt in Fluttershy’s big blue eyes. “ I seem to be trailing off, again. I shall tell you what I have seen on the night that Radagast and you practiced magic underneath the silver moon, for I was hunting insects that evening, and happened to see what he was up to.”

The bat began to recount the tale, leaving no detail out. His voice was heavy and official, and he spoke with as many colorful metaphors as he could summon, as if he thought that those would make the story a bit lighter on Fluttershy’s heart.

And all the while Fluttershy listened, and the more Malfegor talked, the heavier her heart felt. For a moment, she considered herself lucky to have forgotten a lot about it, and wished that she could instead just call it a dream and continue her day together with Radagast.

“He tried to help you, that he did.” Malfegor said, ”but the eye interrupted his magic. Even though my eyes are but small and my sight is very ill, I could see the great tree lit up like a scarlet sunset, and hear its bark screaming with cracking voices. The fire was definitely not natural, as I have fled from a forest fire once, so I know how a normal forest fire looks. I am certainly not an expert on magic, but I can tell you here and now that evil forces were at work that night. And I believe what Radagast says is true, that the evil is encroaching on the whole forest.” Malfegor rasped his throat, which made a squeaky noise. “I wish my tale would have been brighter, but I told you instead the truth, and I am very sorry if I have upset you with it.”

“Don’t be,” Fluttershy said. “I would have heard it from Radagast anyway. But…” And then her voice faltered. “I still don’t know where he is. Oh!” Fluttershy suddenly winced and squeezed her eyes shut. “What could possibly be more dangerous than that terrible experience you’ve just described? It must have been something awful, when he thought he might… he might not…” Tears started pearling down the corners of her eyes; she couldn’t say the word.

Theodulfus spread his big wing and wrapped it around Fluttershy’s shoulder, pulling her head towards him until it was buried in his feathery belly. “It’s alright, Fluttershy. Perhaps he will return, just later.”

Alexander rubbed his head against Fluttershy’s, but still heard her crying. He turned to the other animals. “Let’s all leave her alone for a while, folks. Also, I gotta talk to you all in private.”

The animals agreed. Only Theodulfus and Malfegor stayed behind. Theodulfus because he would be more than capable of comforting Fluttershy with his wise words, and Malfegor because he had fallen asleep.

There was a mist outside, so the animals stayed together in a close circle to be able to read each other’s expressions. When they were all gathered, Alexander hopped in the middle of the circle, looked at each critter in turn, and took the word once more.

“Alright, let’s get serious now,” he said. “Don’t think I didn’t see your face there, Joel. You know where Radagast went to on his ‘mission.’” In two hops, Alexander was almost pecking the badger with his beak. “Fluttershy is not here now, so come on! Spit it out!”

Joel the badger took a step back at the fiery robin’s words. “Whoa, there, calm down Alex. I have been nothing but an honest animal, you know? I do, in fact, not know where Radagast has departed to. I only realized someone who perhaps might now.”

Alexander jumped up. “Really? Tell us!”

“Why, the rabbits, of course,” Joel said. “They were the ones who pulled Radagast’s sled, after all.”

“Of course!” Alexander made a hop with a flap of his wings. When he landed he twirled around and stood still. “Wait, where are the rabbits anyway? I haven’t seen them for a while, and I don’t recall them being together with us just a minute ago.”

One of the squirrels raised its tiny front paw, but when he saw that none of the animals took notice of him, he hopped closer to the middle of the circle. “Eh… I’m sorry to interrupt, Alexander, but… well… If you please, I often visit the rabbits and, eh… I might know why they haven’t been among us for a time…”

There was a small silence in which the squirrel fumbled with his tail.

“Come on, don’t be shy. Tell us,” Alexander said, trying to sound nice despite the haste he implied.

But the squirrel kept fiddling with his tail, and avoided the robin’s gaze. “H-h-how shall I tell you. Oh, it’s such a delicate matter, actually. Eh… well… The rabbits, they… They are not feeling very well—one of them, I mean. But… but I do believe that you should ask them yourselves. Oh, it’s such a delicate matter.”

Alexander suppressed a sigh, which resounded like an airy whistle. “Alright. Let’s go to the rabbit holes, everyone.”

And before anyone could protest or question the robin, he flew off towards the hill.

It was a small hill, made by Radagast himself, where the rabbits lived. Rabbits always preferred living underground, so Radagast had taken the time to give his most faithful friends everything they needed, including their very own home. Many holes were scattered in the hill, but in the end, all of the passages were connected to each other. Soon, Alexander and the squirrel stood in the central chamber, where they found one rabbit.

“Hallo Giselda,” said the squirrel, offering a hesitant handshake.

Giselda returned the handshake, but said nothing.

The squirrel looked at the ground, but then back at the rabbit. “How… how is Anna doing?”

“Not well,” the rabbit answered.

Alexander looked from one animal to the other. “What? Is she sick?”

“I’m afraid she is,” Giselda said. She folded her front paws together. “It’s so terrible. Since the ride to that terrible fortress, she hasn’t been the same. She doesn’t eat, she barely sleeps, and she is so afraid to go out.” Her whiskers twitched. “Well, not just afraid for herself, but afraid for Radagast as well. Oh! He should never have gone to that place. We should have turned around and go back to Rhosgobel while we had the chance. First that terrible forest fire, and now this! I certainly hope that he knows what he is doing, and I think poor Anna will not be the same until Radagast returns.”

Upon hearing this, Alexander bent his knees and lowered his head for a second. “I’m sorry to hear that, Giselda. You see, Fluttershy has just woken up from the... eh… forest fire, and we are all still figuring out what has happened these past few days. But we need your help. Can you tell us where Radagast has gone to? Do you know the place?”

“I do,” Gisela said. She rubbed her nose a dozen times with her front paws before she continued. And when she looked at the squirrel and the robin again, her eyes were big with fear. Her mouth formed words, but made no sound. She tried it a second time, and then the words, even though reluctant, filled the room. “Dol Guldur.”

The squirrel gave a yelp, and bolted off, making the dirt fly everywhere in his flight. Before Alexander or Gisela could blink, he was gone.

But Alexander was rooted in place. He opened his beak, and was unable to shut it for a good five seconds. Then he said, “Dol Guldur?!”

“Oh, please don’t speak that name aloud in here!” Giselda said, waving her paws in the air. “That is the last thing our poor Anna needs.”

Once more, Alexander made a bow. “I’m sorry, Giselda. Tell Anna to get well soon for me. I’m afraid I have something important to do.”

“Of course,” Giselda said.

Back outside, the animals still stood in the same circle around the hole, discussing possible places where Radagast might have gone. They had seen the squirrel, but he was long gone before anybody could speak to him. “And?” asked Joel the badger, when Alexander’s head popped up from the rabbit hole.

“Dol Guldur.”

A gasp went through the group, each expressed a different way. For the snakes it was a hiss, for the badgers a bark, and the birds chirped and the owls gave a high hoot and the mouse squeaked. Every animal knew that Dol Guldur was an unpleasant place, and that strange things tend to happen there. Often, some brave bats or crows would fly over it, but most other animals turned a wide circle when they wanted to go around the old hill fortress. They knew that even plants wouldn’t grow there, and that the mountains moaned under the weight of the crumbled castle. It was altogether an evil place.

After the shock of the mention had subsided, they all started hissing, talking, tweeting, squeaking and squawking amongst one another, telling the strange tales they had heard or the experiences of someone they claimed to know or have known. The circle was breaking apart, and the hubbub became so loud that Gisela asked them to move, which they did. They were standing right in the middle of the clearing, far away from the rabbit holes and out of hearing distance from Rhosgobel, and resumed their discussion and speculation.

Suddenly, a loud squawk resounded. Every animal looked at the sky, recognizing to what animal the cry belonged, but couldn’t see anyone. Then, with a thud, a big, black crow touched down upon the grass, startling the other animals for a second and making the mice fall down with the flap of its wings.

Alexander had jumped away just in time, and hopped towards the massive bird. “Hey there! Who are you and what is your business here! I think it’s pretty rude to scare us all like that. At least you could have walked here properly.”

“I don’t have time for walking,” the crow said, ignoring Alexander’s questions. “I bear an emergency message from the brown wizard, to be delivered to a horse named ‘Fluttershy.’ Is she here?”

“Indeed she is,” said Joel the badger.

The crow gave out a squawk. “Good. Take me to her as quickly as you can, for my news is urgent.”

Joel started to lead the way, with the crow behind, but Alexander flew up and landed between them. “Wait a second, there mister. We don’t know you, and your manners are far from good. Why not tell the message to us, so we can carry it to Fluttershy with our own beaks and mouths, instead of yours.”

The crow made a low, rattling noise. “Oh, dash it all!” He twirled around, knocking Alexander over with its tail feathers, and then flew up, almost decapitating Joel with the flap of his wings. The other birds, the ones swifter of mind and swifter of wing, tried to intervene, but these were but little chickadees, which the crow easily swept aside. Before they could stop him, he flew straight through the window, and left a rain of shattered glass and some black feathers behind.

“Is there a flying horse by the name of Fluttershy here?” The crow said, but he needn’t to, for he saw Fluttershy lying on the bed with an owl on her pillow, looking in shock at the crow’s loud entrée. The crow jumped and flew, landing on the table.

“Well hello there, sir,” Theodulfus the owl said. “May I ask you politely why you flew through the—“

“No time,” rasped the crow. “I bring ill news of your friend the brown wizard.”

Fluttershy bent forward to hear the crow better, although she felt afraid by his tone and his words. “What happened to him? Is Radagast ok?”

The crow shook its head. “No. He’s not. Radagast has been captured by the servants of Sauron and imprisoned in the dungeons of Dol Guldur. He asks for your help.”

Fluttershy felt her heart skip a beat. She felt all of her worries turning to reality, which shone like a black sun in her mind. First her hooves began to tremble, then her whole body. She retracted from the black crow, and folded her hooves around her head. This isn’t happening, she thought. “Radagast… please come back…”

“He’s not coming back,” the crow said. “We have to rescue him.”

The owl frowned with his big, bristly eyebrows. “I see,” he said calmly. “And where, may I ask, did you get that information?”

The crow jerked his head to the owl. “From the brown wizard himself, of course. He gave out a magical call, which I answered, and gave the message for me to bear. He trusted me, and I have not betrayed his trust, for here I am, delivering the call.”

“I see…” Theodulfus said again, but his gaze began to travel, and he turned his head around a couple of times. “Then it seems we have some very difficult choices to make…” His eyes settled on Fluttershy at last, and he stroked her mane with one of his wings.

“Yes,” squawked the crow. “We have to act quickly, for I don’t believe there is much time. The wizard is in very bad shape and very weak. I don’t think he will make it until the next day.”

Suddenly, all of the other animals came streaming into Rhosgobel in a wild stampede. Snakes slithered through cracks in the door, mice appeared from their holes, squirrels skittered inside, and the birds flew through the open window, chittering and tweeting in an off-key chorus. Alexander jumped up, and landed squarely on the back of the crow. But the crow bent its legs and bowed over, throwing the robin off balance and slamming him to the wood of the table.

“Stop! What in moon’s name are you doing?” cried Theodulfus, who flew towards the table and planted his big talons in the wood. “Stop that, you two! There’s no need for violence when our common friend is in need of us.”

Alexander backed off, but still gave the crow a nasty stare. When he saw that it made no attempt to attack him, he puffed out his chest and recomposed himself. “In need of us?” he asked Theodulfus—not the crow—, asking the question that lingered on every animal’s lips or beaks.

“Radagast is in danger, according to our unexpected guest here,” Theodulfus said, motioning with one talon to the crow, who stood high on his feet. “We have to see what we are going to do, for Radagast himself had said before that we should retreat to the elves. Trying to save Radagast, in my opinion, is a dangerous task.”

The crow flapped his wings twice. “Dangerous, maybe, but I have a plan. You see, I know exactly where the wizard is held, so when Fluttershy and I go together, we will be able to free him.”

“What?! That’s a terrible idea,” said Alexander. “Look at her!”

Indeed, Fluttershy was still curled up in a ball, covering herself with her wings. She wasn’t quite recovered from the shock yet, and in the silence, the animals could hear her sobbing as quietly as she could.

“She’s in no shape to go on such a dangerous mission, crow,” Alexander continued. “We have to figure out something else.”

“I agree with Mister Alexander here,” said Theodulfus. “Perhaps we can do both; we can go to the elves and ask them for help. I am certain that their king will be able to launch an attack on the fortress of Dol—“

“But the wizard asked for Fluttershy specifically!” the crow said.

“But Radagast said that she has to leave too, when things would go bad for him,” Alexander countered.

“Oh, dash it all,” the crow said under his breath. He made a jump. “Do you have any animal strong enough to buck open the wooden doors? Do you have any animal strong enough to bite the wizard’s bindings? I bet you don’t.”

Alexander also jumped. “Then why didn’t you peck Radagast’s bindings? If you have really spoken to him, I presume you have already gone past the doors.”

“No,” the crow hissed, sounding quite like a snake for a moment. “I have spoken with him through the iron bars of a high window. What? Did you think I burst open those doors all by myself?”

“Of course not,” Alexander said, who realized that this was going to be a long argument; one he would win. “Say, why don’t we let our nameless crow here fly to the elven king and let him rouse an army?”

“Because“ —The crow let a threatening pause slip in —“ I don’t think Radagast will live that long, as I said. Haven’t you been listening?”

“I wasn’t in the cottage yet when you spoke those words, I reckon,” Alexander countered.

To that the crow became silent, as he knew that the robin was right. “Touché,” he said, but soft enough so that nobody would hear him.

Theodulfus flew up, and landed on the knob that marked the head of the bed. “Fluttershy,” he whispered in her ear. “We need you now. Radagast needs you know. I know that making a decision is hard for you at the moment, but you have to stay strong. Will you at least listen to what we have to propose?”

Deeply buried beneath her wings and her pillow, Fluttershy nodded. Spurred on by the owl’s gentle words, she summoned enough strength to sit upright, and wiped her eyes off her wing. “Yes,” she said, although her voice was still cracked, “I will listen.”

All the animals gathered together, eager to hear what the future held in store for them: a difficult decision.

Theodulfus took his central position on the tabletop again, and took a moment to look at all the animals, and finally at Fluttershy. “Fluttershy,” he said in his deep voice, “we have to choose. According to this crow, Radagast’s messenger, we must go—“

“No, only Fluttershy and I must go,” the crow corrected.

Alexander, on the other side of the table, tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because this is a low-profile rescue mission, robin,” the crow said. “The easiest way to approach Radagast’s holding cell is on the wing, and we can’t have a whole cloud of chickadees and robins and owls and pigeons and who knows what more flying in the air. The enemy would certainly spot us that way, and besides, what good would it do? It is strength and stealth that we need on this mission.”

The arguments made sense, and Alexander had to give in.

“Very well,” Theodulfus said, resuming his summary. “So either the crow and Fluttershy are venturing towards Dol Guldur and save Radagast, or we go to the Old Forest Road and ask help from the elves, as Radagast instructed.”

“But we can’t do that!” The crow said, hopping from one leg to the other. “We don’t have the time!”

Theodulfus closed his eyes for a moment. “It is a hard choice, I know. I am certain that all of you would give your lives for our master—for our friend. But as the crow said, if we were to rescue Radagast, it would be useless to go all together; I believe so too. When we retreat to the elves, we leave Radagast behind, but then again, we will have a chance to inform the elves of the Greenwood’s dying state.” Theodulfus sighed. “Radagast lived for us; he lived for the forest. He would never want to see it corrupt and die as he said it would. Although it weighs heavy on my heart, I must say that saving the Greenwood is probably what Radagast would have wanted.”

To that, the crow let out a terrible screech. “But you cannot do that! The wizard is your friend, right? There is nothing more cowardly than to leave your comrades alone to save your own hides. Cowards!”

Theodulfus turned his eyes towards the crow. “I’m sorry Mister Crow, but I don’t like your tone there. Do not speak ill of all of us, for not only the life of Radagast, but also the life of the forest is at stake.”

Alexander looked about ready to peck the crow’s eyes out; his chest seemed redder than ever.

Theodulfus closed his eyes and sighed once more. Then a long, thoughtful silence followed. After a couple of minutes, other animals began to stir and wonder whether the nocturnal bird had fallen asleep. Alexander hopped towards him, but then the owl opened his eyes again. “I cannot decide,” he said, his voice pained with thought, “for I do not think it is my decision to make.” He looked at Fluttershy, and didn’t even need to say anything.

Of course Fluttershy was scared. Her imagination had no trouble summoning up a place which would contain even more evil than Radagast would be able to handle. Her imagination had no trouble summoning up an enemy more terrible and powerful than her wildest nightmares. The pictures and thoughts came back to her, especially the eye, which she could now clearly see and feel again. Her wounds seemed to sting at the memory, and a shiver traveled through her mind and body. She recoiled.

“Be strong, little horse,” the crow said. “We can do this together and free your wizard.”

Fluttershy realized that she actually had no choice. She would do anything for Radagast, her new friend. He had taken her under his wing, cared for her, and even tried to send her back to her own world. He tried to help me, Fluttershy thought, and now I must try to help him.

Fluttershy never really had been a hero, and the possibility of failure crossed her mind too. The possibility of death crossed her mind too. She thought back about Nightmare Moon. At the battle with Nightmare Moon, Twilight Sparkle had fought, and Fluttershy had been there too, representing the element of kindness. Back then, she knew that Twilight Sparkle might die, and had been terribly afraid of that. And she knew that she herself might have had to fight Nightmare Moon and die.

That same realization now encroached on her heart and mind. Fluttershy lowered her head and flattened her ears. A single tear dripped onto the mattress. Tears of the thought that she might not be able to live when Radagast would die.

The words came hesitant, but they came. And with those words, her fate was sealed.

“I will go.”

The crow jumped up, flapped its wings, and screeched. “A good choice, horse. Together we will fly to Dol Guldur!”

“I will go,” Fluttershy continued, “but all of you guys have to leave. If I fail and might not come back, then the elves must still be informed of the situation of the Greenwood. And besides…” Her voice quavered. “I don’t want you to be here when the dark magic comes for you next.”

The other animals started to object. Some wanted to wait for Fluttershy and Radagast’s return. Some wanted to never leave Rhosgobel, whatever the threat might be, for it was their home. Some were scared of the elves. And some were scared to become homeless and alone in the wild, being quite domesticated in Radagast’s presence, where predators and prey were equal. Some were still injured and couldn’t possibly make the journey to the Old Forest Road. Alexander thought about Anna the rabbit.

Suddenly, Theodulfus let out a few raspy screeches, and everyone fell silent immediately. When all was silent, Theodulfus cleared his throat. “Excuse me there, everyone. I just want to say that Fluttershy has made a wise decision, as far as I can see. This way we will have both a chance at getting Radagast back, and a chance at saving the Greenwood.” He turned his head to Fluttershy. “And Fluttershy?”

“Yes?”

“I have all the faith in my heart that you will succeed. Even though you might not see it for yourself, you have more resourcefulness and courage than meets the eye.”

Fluttershy’s purple mane fell across one eye as she blushed. “Thank you.”

“And furthermore,” Theodulfus said. “We will all still ask for the elves’ help to storm the fortress. So even if you don’t succeed immediately, try to give us time to rouse an army, and then we will come for you.”

Fluttershy brushed her mane back behind her ear. “Thank you so much for all your support and your kind words.” She looked at all the animals, knew that this would be their farewell, but still managed to give them all a warm smile. “You are all wonderful, and I know that you will all have a pleasant time with the elves. Good luck with your journey.”

“And good luck with yours,” Theodulfus said, soon accompanied by Alexander who said, “You can do it, Fluttershy!”

Fluttershy nodded, but doubts started to collect in her head and uttered a thought of their own. I hope so…

* *

The evening air was chilly and stung Fluttershy’s face. She never liked flying so high, but she knew that haste was necessary, and walking or flying through the forest would be too slow and clumsy. Fluttershy silently wondered whether the crow would feel the same. He hadn’t talked much, and the only words he had spoken to her were reluctant and quick, as if he didn’t like talking to her. Now he flew far ahead, leading the way.

The air was a very cloudy soup, and the moonlight shone through the cloudy mess in rays of cold light. Stars couldn’t be seen that night, and the forest didn’t look much more cheerful.

Instead of a beautiful red and golden multi-colored festival of leaves, a mist covered the trees. Sometimes the top of a particularly high tree would peep out of the grey mass, looking rather like the top of a red mushroom, but the rest of the forest was swallowed in the blanket of cloud.

Fluttershy couldn’t believe that a forest could look that dreary and dark. She wobbled as her wings shivered, and she wondered whether it was because of the cold or because of the joyless sight of the Greenwood, which was far from green now. A wondering thought came to her, as she was thinking about the Everfree Forest, and if it would perhaps look as spooky and mysterious as the Greenwood when it would be preparing itself for winter on a misty day. When another shiver made her close her eyes, Fluttershy decided that she didn’t want to know.

With a few flaps of her wings, Fluttershy flew next to the bird. She tried to find its eyes, which were as black as its feathers, and didn’t shine in the grey moonlight. “Mister Crow?”

The crow let out a screech, which Fluttershy took as a ‘yes.’

“Are we… are we almost there?”

“Yes,” the crow said, without looking at her. “Soon the mist will retreat, and the fortress shall be revealed.”

“Ok. Thank you.” Fluttershy wished that the crow would try to comfort her, to give her some courage for the task ahead, but the bird appeared to be as cold as the wind which it rode.

No, Fluttershy had to do this all by herself. She had to muster the courage in her heart to save Radagast. For a few seconds, Fluttershy closed her eyes and recalled all the happy moments she had shared with Radagast. Working together while repairing Rhosgobel, playing with his animal friends, talking about each other’s worlds, sharing delicious meals together, drinking tea and laughing. Despite the cold, she felt her heart warm. The positive memories were what she needed to find courage and prepare her spirit. And besides that, Fluttershy realized that she just had to do what she did a lot: hiding and sneaking. Hiding from danger, watching out for strange animals in the Everfree forest, fleeing awkward situations, making herself invisible in crowds; all things Fluttershy had done a million times. And for the first time, she thanked her natural timidity and shyness.

Suddenly, Fluttershy spotted a hole in the carpet. It looked like a hole in the world, where the mist retreated as if it didn’t dare to cover that area. A few minutes later, they were flying over a new part of the forest. Fluttershy almost tumbled down the skies at the sight below her.

It looked as if the forest was clad into an eternal shadow. Trees were black, earth was black, bushes were black. But they weren’t blackened by a forest fire, for then they would be snapped and crumbled, and there would be stumps littering the ash-covered soil. Instead, the trees were all still intact, waving their blackened leaves in an unseen breeze.

Fluttershy could see and feel that the forest was corrupted. It was as if she’d just plunged from a hot bath into a cold one, and the air felt empty of scents and sensations. With a few hesitant flaps she steadied herself, and looked at the crow. The beast still flew as straight as before, and didn’t look troubled by the sudden corruption that lingered in the air—or if he did, he didn’t show it; Fluttershy knew that crows were proud birds.

The black ink stain went on as far as Fluttershy could see, traveling like an enormous, bottomless abyss to the healthy part of the forest, where the trees were golden underneath their grey blanket. Or, that was what Fluttershy thought. She silently wondered how far the black forest had already grown, as she couldn’t see any trees through the mist below. In a stream of thought and hope, Fluttershy realized that this was the future of the Greenwood, if no one would do anything. That realization swept away her last doubts about the decision that she had made, and she frowned in grim determination. The elves must know about this.

Then, like a black needle against a grey night, Fluttershy saw the fortress, and all her determination tumbled down the sky and upon the rotten earth below.

“Behold, Dol Guldur,” the crow said, and his voice echoed in the hollow air.

A few moments later, Fluttershy saw the needle grow into a spearhead, then into rooftops and spires and watchtowers which greeted her with grim shadows. The same feeling of dread which had awakened in Radagast now feasted upon a new victim. A victim meeker and softer, with a kindness which it could devour—much like the changelings.

“W-w-where do we go now?” Fluttershy said, having trouble to speak.

The crow let out a screech. “I will show you. From now on, no talking!”

Fluttershy wanted to say yes, but instead she nodded, which felt easier anyway above the corrupted woods.

The fortress of Dol Guldur reminded Fluttershy of the Castle of the Two Sisters, which had been abandoned at the edge of the Everfree Forest in Equestria. It too, had spires and crumbling walls. The only difference—a difference that Fluttershy had noticed the first time she set hoof in the halls of the castle—was that nature had reclaimed the Castle of the Two Sisters, while Dol Guldur was just stone, iron, and shadows. Where vines, ivy, shrubs, weeds, and even small trees had taken over the Castle of the Two Sisters, providing a funny splash of color on the white-grey walls, in Dol Guldur grew nothing. The place looked devoid of life, which both comforted and unsettled Fluttershy at the same time. It was comforting to know that their presence had apparently gone unnoticed, but unsettling because it only added to the strange atmosphere hanging in the air.

Fluttershy saw that the crow veered down, and she did the same. The closer she got to the fortress, the more her senses primed. Her aerial position not only gave her an image of the place, but she also looked down and scanned for movement. There was nothing.

The crow flew through a big hole in a half-crumbled roof, and Fluttershy followed. Immediately, they became covered in shadows.

Fluttershy expected some shock or blast when she touched down on the floor. Instead, it was just stone. Ordinary, cold stone.

Nudging with its head, the crow walked forwards. Fluttershy held her breath, and followed.

Her eyes started to adjust to the darkness slightly, and with a little help from more cracks in the roof and the walls and the moonlight slithering through them, she began to see where she had plunged herself in. It was a hallway, with rotten tapestries hanging on crooked railings. A few windows, without glass and bound in iron bars, offered a view of a cliff, and in the distance the corrupted forest. There were even some paintings, although the faces on them were distorted, and the landscapes burned and blackened.

In the distance, the crow came to a big, wooden door, armed with iron spikes and countless splinters. There the crow stopped.

Fluttershy looked at him, and the crow scratched the door with one of his talons. It wasn’t locked, and although it was big and heavy, Fluttershy managed to push it open without making a sound. They walked inside.

Despite the crow’s warning, Fluttershy couldn’t suppress a small, “Wow.”

She was standing in a hall, a hall of which she couldn’t see the roof. Moonlight streamed through stained-glass windows, some broken; others miraculously clean and intact. A big red carpet, half-rotten away, muffled Fluttershy’s steps, as she walked further. She could see stone benches and an altar. More details came into view as she followed the crow, appearing out of the shadows which covered the other corners and parts of the hall. Then, she stopped, while a gasp escaped her mouth.

Before her stood a figure, clad in robes, standing completely erect with a sword clutched in its hands, half covered by the sleeves of the robe, so that the sword looked as if it had sprouted from the cloth. It had hung its head, and looked down on Fluttershy.

A second passed.

Then another one.

Fluttershy’s heart rattled like a hummingbird’s. She didn’t dare to move.

But the figure stood still, doing nothing but casting shadows on the ground.

It’s… it’s just a statue.

Fluttershy sighed and began to move away. She wanted to go, for the place gave her the creeps, but she knew she couldn’t. Fluttershy just hoped that Radagast’s prison wouldn’t be far. She turned her head in every direction, searching for her crow. What she saw instead, were more figures, much like the first.

Would Radagast be here? her frightened mind thought. Would the crow’s mission be over? Is he scared of the statues?

Then, all her questions were answered in a single voice, traveling through the stale, dusty air like a spear.

“You have come at last, flying horse.”

It wasn’t Radagast’s voice. This voice promised cruelty and torture with its tones. Fluttershy jerked her head around; the voice seemed to come from all directions, from all shadows. She felt fear take hold of her body. Even if she wanted to flee, she felt she couldn’t. The fear, carried on that awful voice, rooted her into place.

Suddenly, there was a squawk and a flap of wings. The crow came sailing through the air, and landed on the shoulder of the Witch-King, who stepped into the light of the moon, which looked as if it flickered for a second.

Even though her whole being felt numb and paralyzed, Fluttershy understood what had happened, and she couldn’t believe it.

Now the crow’s eyes glittered. The Witch-King held out a fist, which opened in a steel-rimmed claw, and the crow hopped over his arm into the claw, his nails scratching the metal. It looked as if the bird gave Fluttershy one last sneer, before the Witch-King closed his fist, and the crow disappeared into a cloud of shadows and feathers.

A shock went through Fluttershy’s heart. She couldn’t help it, but wondered if the crow was dead. It was her kind nature, which was of no use here.

“How does betrayal feel?” the Witch-King said. He spoke slowly, letting every word have its terrible effect on Fluttershy’s ears.

No answer came from Fluttershy; she looked at the falling feathers, which dissolved into dust once they touched the floor.

The Witch-King moved his head; his cloak stirred. “He has outlived his usefulness. Just like Radagast the Brown.”

Even the name of the wizard sounded cruel on the Witch-King’s unseen tongue. Fluttershy’s voice was just a whisper. “Radagast…”

With a wave of his cloak, the Witch-King moved his arm and hissed. Then, one of the statues, the one standing next to him, sheathed its sword and disappeared into the darkness.

Nameless seconds passed, before he rematerialized with Radagast, kneeling on the ground before him. His head hung low, his beard almost touching the stone floor, and Fluttershy couldn’t find his eyes. He didn’t look bloodied or bruised, but he was shaking and quivering. He just lay on the ground, moaning in the darkness.

Fluttershy wanted to take Radagast, help him get better, flee this horrible place. But she couldn’t move a muscle.

“His spirit is broken,” the Witch-King said. “He is no longer a threat to our master.”

The Witch-King raised his hand, and touched Radagast’s grey locks. The wizard began quivering over his whole body, and then raised up as if he were attached to a rope around his neck. He let out a gurgle. Then his eyes met Fluttershy’s, and she recoiled. Where before the wizard’s eyes had been blue and sparkling with the love of life, now they were grey and dull, looking into the shadows. But then he noticed Fluttershy, and his eyebrows shot up. “Fluttershy!”

“Radagast!”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Radagast said, but then a heavy cough interrupted his speech. His head slumped down for a second, but he forced his gaze back into Fluttershy’s eyes. He couldn’t say anything.

The Witch-King closed his fist and drew his sword. The clinking sound echoed through the hall.

“I have spared his life, for it isn’t his life our master wants to see ended. We have broken his spirit, so he may leave. If—“ he pointed his sword straight ahead at Fluttershy—“we have you.”

Radagast let out another violent cough. “Do not… why…”

“It is a decision the horse must make,” the Witch-King said, waving his sword so that Radagast’s chin rested on the blade. “My master has an interest in the horse’s flying prowess. He has laid his eye upon the creature ever since it entered this realm. Our spies have seen everything. We will breed mighty steeds from her essence; steeds that will carry us to victory during my master’s conquest.”

Fluttershy looked at Radagast, but the wizard was back on his knees, and had turned his gaze upward. “No…”

The Witch-King hissed, the blade disappeared, and Radagast’s head slumped down. “A life for a life, or death upon the wizard.”

A silence followed, long and dreadful. Behind Fluttershy, the other ‘statues,’ stirred, and marched upon her until they surrounded her on either side like copies of each other. The Ringwraiths stood still, and their undead breaths stroked her hide and gave her goosebumps.

Fluttershy had no idea what to do. She couldn’t flee, couldn’t fight. The Witch-King’s blade glimmered like a cold star in the watery moonlight, and it looked sharper than a razor. The sword looked as if it could cut the shadows, and it began to travel towards Radagast’s head once more.

Then the wizard jerked up his head, and with the last bit of strength he could find in his mind, he looked Fluttershy straight in the eyes. “Don’t… don’t do it, Fluttershy. I cannot live when you surrender yourself to the shadow. Don’t—“ but then a wheeze in his throat stopped his words.

But Fluttershy knew she had to do it. She knew that Radagast would die otherwise. Once, she had thought that one of her friends died, the pet phoenix of Princess Celestia, which she had cared for and had tried to help. The bird had looked miserable, and had dissolved into flames right in front of Fluttershy’s eyes. That day, Fluttershy had encountered a new feeling; the most terrible feeling she had ever experienced. The feeling of losing someone you cared for, someone you loved. It was a feeling of a black torrent, snatching away your loved one and giving back nothing. Like a black arrow through your heart, it left a gap irreparable by the most skilled healers, both of the body and of the mind. Fluttershy knew that she would never smile again when she would see Radagast getting impaled by that awful sword.

She nodded before she spoke, as if the words were unnecessary; a waste of her breath. Still, she spoke.

“I will go with you. Let Radagast go.”

A ripple went through the great hall. Around her, the Ringwraiths hissed and screeched their approval. They came even closer now, examining their newest tool. Radagast seemed to have fainted. He felt the desperation and guilt swallow him whole, and he cried. The Witch-King raised his hand towards Fluttershy, his claw outstretched as if he were luring an animal. “Come.”

Whether Fluttershy wanted it or not, she moved forwards. Then a coldness like a soulless river spread from her head to her hooves, as the Witch King stroked her head.

“Welcome to the shadows.”

Comments

[Luna Nightshade]

Well, Fluttershy in a pickle ... Twilight needs to hurry!

[Elkia Deerling]

Hehe, yeah. You'll see what happens...