Animal Friends

by Elkia Deerling

Chapter six: planning and building

The morning greeted her just as cheerfully as the day before. Once more Fluttershy looked outside the window to the mysterious forest surrounding Rhosgobel. Her thoughts went back to yesterday. Yesterday had been a day of rest. A day of settling the mood, of talking and explaining, of laughing and planning, of comforting and helping. All day long Fluttershy and Radagast had talked, drank tea, and enjoyed each other’s company and the tasty pastries Radagast had made. At the end, things did become more serious, with Fluttershy explaining just exactly how she got into this world, but Radagast had tried to keep the mood light, and they hadn’t done much more notable business after Fluttershy’s revelation; the wizard needed time to think about it, think about it for a long time.

All night, Radagast had laid awake, thinking about the things Fluttershy had told him. At breakfast, Radagast shared his thoughts with the little pegasus.

“Fluttershy,” Radagast said, while smearing some strawberry jam on a slice of hot, freshly baked bread, “I have been thinking about the things you told me…”

Fluttershy looked up from her meal, a piece of hay dangling from the corner of her mouth.

“You see, you told me that your friends teleported you using a machine, but I think there must have been some magic involved as well. The way you told me about the way your friend Twilight Sparkle teleports herself, teleportation is a very common spell in your world. Now, I am not at all an expert on teleportation magic, but my guess is that the machine amplified the spell to be able to reach out to other worlds.”

Fluttershy nodded, although she found it difficult to understand. ”I think my friends will do everything in their power to help me get back. At least… I hope they can do that.”

Radagast raised a bristly eyebrow. “Of course they will, don’t be silly. If your friends are anything like you told me yesterday, I can’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t.” But with a shock, Radagast realized what she meant. “Oh, of course. The machine has exploded… Are you absolutely certain it did?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy said, her voice soft and careful, sad even. “That’s the last thing I remembered. The last thing I saw. I saw the machine tilting and falling down, severing some of the cables and exploding in a rain of sparks.”

“I see,” Radagast stroked his beard, brushing some bread crumbs out of the greying hairs. “Well, in that case, it will be wise not to count on them too much. We will have to find a way to bring you back to Equestria—I will have to find a way to bring you back to Equestria.”

“Yes…” Fluttershy looked down at the ground, as she had no idea what to say. She couldn’t possibly think about an easy solution to that, even though the wizard sounded so confident.

And he sounded that way for a reason. Although Radagast knew it would be difficult, if not impossible; knew it would be tricky, if not dangerous; knew that it would be intense, or that nothing would happen at all, he still wanted to share the thing that wouldn’t leave his mind in his dreams.

“Fluttershy,” he said, his voice almost as careful as the pony’s, “I have to tell you something. Last night I have been thinking and dreaming. And… well… I think I have found a way which may just get you back home.”

Even though the wizard had emphasized the ‘may,’ Fluttershy couldn’t contain the sudden feeling of hope, bursting like firework and sparkling in her eyes like diamonds. She looked at the wizard with big, pleading eyes. “You… you do?”

“Yes, I might.” Radagast took a sip of his milk, as if it could help him to explain his plan. He decided to just tell it, as straightforwardly as he could. “There is a place in the Greenwood, a magical place. It is a place where the magical energies of the woods converge. Not the biggest focal point, but definitely one of the most potent. The elves, which used to inhabit those regions, used to gather at that spot to perform rituals and teach each other about magic, as that was easy to do with the swirling magical streams. Last night I’ve meditated and dreamed, and I saw that it is still there.”

Radagast paused, as he reckoned all of this ancient lore would be difficult to understand. Fluttershy, however, seemed to understand all of it just fine, as she sat on the edge of her seat, all ears for the wizard’s tale.

“Now the thing is, Fluttershy, I know many different spells myself. Most of them have to do with plant-speak or animal languages, and I possess a great array of healing spells too. But in the past I used teleportation spells a lot to get from one place to another. Now, I’m not exactly a master in teleportation, as I don’t use that kind of magic much anymore; I enjoy traveling on foot and with my sled much more.” Radagast winked. “Because that’s much more fun than just disappearing from someplace and reappear in another. Poof!” He twirled his arms around in the air. “But I’m trailing off here. The point is that, with a little reading, I’m certain that I will be able to dig those old teleportation spells out of the dusty corners of my memory.”

Radagast paused again, as he reached the essence of his story. Fluttershy still looked entirely captivated.

“And if I combine my knowledge and experience of teleportation, and interweave it with the magics flowing through the focal point, maybe—just maybe—I might be able to teleport you across other dimensions, until you reach your own.”

To those last words, Fluttershy’s mind boggled. It all made sense. Radagast was a wizard himself, capable of using magic. Of course he might be able to teleport her home himself. Fluttershy swept her tail from side to side, and leaned even further forward. “So what does it look like? Are we going there today? Can I help you prepare the spells?”

Radagast bit his lip. “I will have to read a couple of books, so it might take a while before I remember all of my old tricks. But… but first… eh… ” Radagast shuffled on his seat, looking almost awkwardly at the ground. “I’m not sure if I can ask this from you, Fluttershy but… well… would you… eh…”

“I will do anything for you, Radagast,” Fluttershy said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it is the least I can do in return for your hospitality.”

Radagast didn’t look her in the eyes, but instead looked outside the window at the sunrays reflected by the dust. “Well… You see, Fluttershy. I’ve walked outside and looked at the state of Rhosgobel and, well… I thought it might be a good idea to…”

“To fix the damage from the storm,” Fluttershy finished for him; she had read it in his eyes.

“Yes, exactly. I reckoned we will finish it much quicker together, as four hands make lighter work—or two hands and two hooves. And besides, I don’t want the roof to fall on our heads while we’re busy working on the spell. I’m not sure if I can teleport us from underneath the roof of my house.”

Fluttershy chuckled. “It’s alright, Radagast. Of course I’ll help you.”

Radagast sighed, and together, they finished breakfast and gathered some tools.

* *

Fluttershy hadn’t really thought about it, but today, she would set her first steps—or her first conscious steps—into the world of Middle Earth. Fluttershy looked forward to feeling the sun on her hide, and she trotted cheerfully out the door.

“What do you think, Fluttershy?” Radagast said, gesturing back at Rhosgobel.

“It looks… well… nice,” Fluttershy said. A little white lie, but she didn’t want to upset Radagast.

In the light of the early morning, coming from behind the two creatures, Rhosgobel looked utterly miserable. The rickety cabin looked as if a giant had stepped on it, realized his mistake, and had then scraped the cottage off his foot to let it land with a loud bang back on the ground. There was no doubt about it, the storm had really shaken Rhosgobel.

The roof was sacked, covered in broken roof tiles and splinters of wood, how it hadn’t collapsed, Radagast couldn’t begin to comprehend. The central beams were still upright, luckily, but they were standing diagonal, instead of proud and upright, partly lost in the saggy earth. Radagast’s cheerful smokestack was just a heap of stone now, barely recognizable as a smokestack. In silence, the wizard considered himself lucky that there had been at least a hole through which the smoke of his cooking could have escaped.

Strangely enough, no windows were shattered; even the one in the door was intact. Around the home, however, the gardens were utterly destroyed. The sneak-peek Fluttershy had cast on the garden had only revealed a small portion of the carnage. Puddles of water had gathered in the middle of the fields, where many different herbs and vegetables were drowning. Even the fences surrounding the gardens hadn’t been spared, as they lay in scattered heaps like fallen domino-bricks.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Radagast said, “but there’s no need to be polite. The place is ravaged. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Fluttershy looked up at the wizard. “I think I have an idea. Every time I am cleaning my own home, I start at the top and finish sweeping the floor. Maybe we can do that here as well.”

“Of course,” Radagast said, still not taking his eyes off the battered cabin. “That’s a splendid idea.” Then he shook his head, as if he forced himself back in the here and now. “I’ll go get a ladder.”

A minute later the wizard returned with a sturdy, oak ladder. He put it against the wall, making sure it was stable, and placed a foot on the first step. Then the second step, then the third. When he was halfway to the top, Radagast looked down to see where Fluttershy was, but couldn’t see her. Turning back his head, Radagast was just about to call for her, when she appeared right beside him at the same height, wings flapping gently up and down.

Radagast let out a cry of surprise, and toppled backwards. Before he could crash down to the ground, however, Fluttershy caught ladder and wizard in mid-air. She laid both softly on the grass.

“Are you ok, Radagast?” Fluttershy said, hovering beside him.

“Y-y-yes… I am… I am alright,” but in reality, he wasn’t. Radagast’s eyes became as big as saucers as he looked at Fluttershy, hovering in the air in front of him. Of course, Radagast had imagined her flying, and had painted a mental picture about how that would look like. But seeing her fly, right in front of his eyes, was much different.

“Are you sure?” Fluttershy said at the absent look in the wizard’s eyes.

Radagast shook his head in an attempt to speak normal sentences again. “Yes, Fluttershy. It’s just that I am not quite used to ponies flying around my front yard.”

Fluttershy looked back at her wings, and quickly landed. “Oh, yes, of course. You’re right. I won’t fly anymore if you don’t want me to.”

To that, Radagast let out a funny, high-pitched laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fluttershy. You can fly whenever you want. It’s just that I’ll have to get used to it, that’s all. In fact, I think having a flying companion might be very useful when we’re going to repair the roof.”

Fluttershy smiled. “Of course. Shall we begin?”

And with a nod of his head, Radagast climbed the ladder a second time; this time he did make it to the roof.

They started working. Many of the roof tiles were at least partly broken and had to be replaced. Some beams were also broken, splintered, or simply rotten; Radagast had never really had the time for maintenance on his home. Their last task would be the cobblestone smokestack, which they would build up using mortar and more cobblestone. First, Radagast removed the birdhouse of the two peregrine falcons, who were not at home.

While Radagast worked on loosening the roof tiles, Fluttershy handed him the new ones and helped to nail them down on the wooden frame. Soon they were as productive as any factory, Fluttershy swooping up and down to get new tiles and together hammering them into place. Radagast thought about how long it would have taken them to accomplish the task if he would be all by himself. Before the sun had reached its apex, the two workers were already halfway.

As they were working, Radagast couldn’t stop looking at how Fluttershy worked. She placed the tiles with surgical precision in place, and then used her hoof to hammer the nails in place. The pony didn’t shed a mere droplet of sweat, and moved with sure and delicate movements.

“You look like you’ve done this before,” Radagast said as Fluttershy finished a nail. She paused and landed on the roof.

“Yes, I have. I live in a cottage myself as well, at the edge of Ponyville, where the marshlands begin. It may sound uncomfortable, but it’s very fertile land, if not a bit remote, but that can be nice sometimes.”

“Certainly,” Radagast said, and put down his hammer; he needed a break anyway. “So does your cabin look anything like my great and beautiful palace?”

Fluttershy chuckled. “In a certain way, yes. Oh, you would love it, Radagast. You would love all of my animal friends skittering around the grass; the birds tweeting in the air, making their way towards one of the many birdhouses on the roof. The calm, gentle stream would sound like music to your ears. Really, there is no sound more beautiful to rock you to sleep as the sound of a rippling stream.”

“Unless it emerges from a storm,” Radagast said, glancing over the edge of the roof to his soaked vegetable gardens.

“Don’t worry Radagast, I’m sure we can fix that as well,” Fluttershy said, her voice as gentle as any rustling stream.

Radagast smiled a thin smile. “Of course.” Trying to distract himself from the thought of such a titan’s task, Radagast decided to extend his break. “So it’s very similar, your cottage?”

“Yes, but there are differences too. I like to have a whole lot of earth and grass on my roof. It’s great insulation, and the rabbits like to play in it as well.” Fluttershy chuckled. “It’s quite an adventure for them to be up there, gazing out over the fields and the marshlands. And there’s flowers of course; lots of flowers. Like beautiful yellow daffodils, or white lilies floating on the water, and of course many daisies, with which the birds love to decorate their nests.”

Radagast closed his eyes and imagined the picture. It looked beautiful. Compared to Fluttershy’s cottage, his own had to look like an ordinary shack. Radagast couldn’t help but feel a little shame creep up inside of him. Here he sat, together with the most innocent, beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And here he sat, an old, ragged wizard, living like a hermit in the forest. In his tattered robes and with his wild beard, he had to look like a tramp.

“If you ever get the chance, I will show you around,” Fluttershy said, although she knew that would likely never happen.

Radagast imagined what that would be like, and especially how the ponies would react to him, were he ever to enter the world of Equestria. With a sigh he concluded that they would probably get scared of his strange appearance, if every pony inhabitant of that world would look like Fluttershy; full of bright pastel colors and adorned with shiny eyes.

Fluttershy saw the wizard’s sigh, and wanted to cheer him up with another funny story; she wrongly guessed that Radagast wasn’t over the complete destruction of his gardens yet. “Sometimes I do some maintenance on my cottage myself, you know, to prevent animals from hurting themselves on loose nails or splinters,” Fluttershy said. “But often Applejack helps me with those jobs. I’ve learned so much from her. I’m sure she has built maybe a thousand barns and fixed a thousand roofs. She taught me to use my hooves as hammers.”

“I wish I could do that,” Radagast said.

Laughing, Fluttershy said, “Maybe Applejack can teach you as well.”

Then there was a silence, but not an uncomfortable one. In the silence, both Fluttershy and Radagast took the time to enjoy the beautiful weather. Even though winter was on the doorstep, there was still some warmth in the air, as the sun continued to shine. Sometimes, a squirrel or a bird appeared from the tree line, looking curiously in the direction of Rhosgobel. To Fluttershy, it appeared that the animals here were more skittish than they were in Equestria, but still Fluttershy saw in their eyes that they were more at ease here, in Rhosgobel.

“Your cottage looks like a safe haven for all creatures,” Fluttershy said, admiration glowing in her voice.

“Yes… I suppose it is,” Radagast said. “Although the forest animals know how to look after themselves as good as I do. They sometimes pass by for a snack, and stay a day or two, but then they’re on their way again.”

“Oh. They look so much different from the animals in Equestria.”

“Really?” Radagast said with a raised eyebrow. “How so?”

Fluttershy fumbled for words, hard as she found it to explain. “I… I think the animals back home speak to me more. I can speak their languages and the other way around. They’re somehow more familiar to me, even though Equestrian animals and animals from Middle Earth look the same. They’re probably the same species as well.”

“I understand,” Radagast said. “And your favorite animals are butterflies?”

Fluttershy looked at the wizard’s eyes. They were shining as if saying: ‘You didn’t expect me to guess that, did you?’

“N-not particularly,” Fluttershy said. “I love every animal, no matter the species; bunnies, birds, fish, bears—“

“BEARS?!” Radagast said. He stumbled and almost fell off the roof.

“Yes, I have a bear as well. Harry is his name, and he needs a massage every day. You wouldn’t believe how stressful the life of a bear can be.”

When Radagast saw that the yellow pegasus wasn’t joking, he calmed down, and uttered a familiar, “I see,” even though he couldn’t see that picture before his mind’s eye: Fluttershy jumping on top of a bear to give it a relaxing massage. Then a thought struck his mind, and his voice became low and earnest, as he decided that Fluttershy had to know the things he was about to tell, for her own safety. “Well, you shouldn’t try that here in Middle Earth, Fluttershy.”

“Oh, why not?”

“Because bears here are… quite different from your Harry, I’m afraid.” Radagast’s face darkened, as he remembered something that had happened long ago. One day, when Radagast had returned from a long hike, he had found his cottage in ruin. Not like right now, because, apart from a mangled front door, the exterior of the cottage had been fine. The inside, however, was in utter disarray. Barrels had been opened, cupboards had been plundered, and the kitchen was ravaged, pots and pans swept aside to get to the tasty ingredients. Radagast had had no doubt about the criminal; a bear. Even though it lay heavy on his heart, Radagast knew what he had to do. The thing with bears is, they have a very good memory. Once a bear finds a very fertile spot of land with loads of berries, or if a bear finds a river brimming with salmon, it will remember that. So naturally, the bear that had intruded Radagast’s home would remember exactly where he or she got so many tasty treats, and was bound to return.

Radagast had made the decision, perhaps it had been the most difficult decision he had ever made. He sat outside and meditated, trying to find the essence of the bear’s magical energy. He found it immediately, as the residue still lingered in Rhosgobel. Without much trouble, Radagast had been able to pinpoint the exact location of the bear.

After a surprisingly short trip on his sled, Radagast found the bear’s lair: a cave in one of the many hills of the Greenwood. Radagast never imagined himself using the spell ever again, but he knew he had to. Approaching the bear, all the while chanting in a language ancient and stuttering, he had lashed out, and killed the bear the moment it turned its head to check on the intruder. At least Radagast had made it quick.

With tears in his eyes, Radagast had walked back out of the cave, when a high-pitched cry came from within. He turned around, and saw two baby bears at the corpse of their mother.

Even baby bears have good memories.

It was the most unnatural thing Radagast had ever done, and he knew it wasn’t right. Hunting mothers and children of a creature that normally hunted only for itself was the most vile thing Radagast could think of, next to hunting for sport. Even though Radagast knew he hunted for the right and natural reason—to protect his home—he still felt devastated when he lowered his staff. For days, he had been weeping for the creatures, filled with sorrow and regret. Now, with Fluttershy’s tale of bears, it all came back to him.

Fluttershy looked at the vague face of the wizard, wondering what to say.

“Bears are much different here in the Greenwood, Fluttershy,” Radagast said, his voice earnest. “They are wild and dangerous. Not evil, though, but they will do what it takes to survive.”

“But aren’t you able to talk to them?” Fluttershy said.

“No, little Fluttershy. Animals mostly look after themselves here in the Greenwood. Yes, sometimes a weak or injured one comes to me, with which I can then speak using the magical energy the creature bears, which I can shape. Bears never come to me. They are much too proud for that, and they never need my care. They do possess the same magical energy all of the other creatures do, and lots of it. It’s just that with predatory creatures, because they are proud and self-sufficient, they often don’t want to make the magical connection that enables me to speak with them. They simply don’t want or need to.”

“That sounds horrible,” Fluttershy said, looking to the left and right as if afraid that a bear might climb the ladder and sneak up on her.

“It’s not,” Radagast said. “It is the way nature works. Predators will always remain predators, little Fluttershy.”

In order to make those words carry meaning, Fluttershy thought back about the Everfree forest. It was a forest, close to Ponyville, where nopony had dealings with. Pony’s rarely ventured into that place, and if they did, they made sure not to linger for too long. Animals and plants cared for themselves there as well, and even though Fluttershy was able to speak with them, they were often wild and unpredictable. Strange monsters called the forest their home. Manticores, cockatrices, chimaera’s, and sometimes Fluttershy had even seen dragons landing between those mangled trees. The plants and trees were high in the Everfree forest, constantly trying to overgrow the other in an endless race for the most sunlight. Quite often Fluttershy had had to treat a creature who came out of the Everfree forest with some kind of injury. She could imagine.

“Yes… I understand,” she said.

Another silence, this one much more uncomfortable than the first. In it, Radagast was struggling with his dark thoughts, just like Fluttershy.

Suddenly, a tweeting bird came flying by. It circled above their heads and then landed on Radagast’s hammer.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Alexander,” Radagast said to the bird. “I’m going to need that, and when I do, you don’t want to keep sitting on it—especially not on that end.”

Alexander tweeted and moved over to sit on a loose nail, almost as if he was teasing the wizard.

To the sight of the daring and silly bird, Fluttershy laughed. Immediately, the tension and dark thoughts fluttered away on the wings of the robin. The little bird vaguely reminded Fluttershy of Rainbow Dash and her ever brash stature.

“But I’m still curious,” Radagast said after a while. “Why do you have butterflies painted on your flank?”

Fluttershy looked for a moment at the picture on her behind, swinging away her tail to reveal the three pink butterflies flying over each other. The remnants of her chuckle appeared as a smile on her face. “They’re not painted, Radagast. It’s just my cutie mark.”

“Your beauty mark?”

“No, cutie mark,” Fluttershy said. “Ponies get them when they discover their special talents. Then they appear as a picture on that pony’s flank.”

“Oh!” Radagast looked closely at the picture, but then realized that staring at someone’s bottom was quite rude, and withdrew with blushing cheeks. Quickly searching for something to say, he eventually dug up a few words, and repeated his question. “So why butterflies?”

“Butterflies hold a special meaning to me,” Fluttershy said. “In the past, I used to live in Cloudsdale, a floating city high up in the sky, but I wasn’t really happy there. Life was… challenging for me. But one day, I discovered the earth far below. I discovered the trees and the plants, the animals and the critters, and then I knew I was home; I knew where I wanted to be. The first animals I saw were butterflies, and I didn’t know what I saw! They were so colorful and beautiful, but at the same time very fragile and sensitive. Something resonated inside of me, as if I had discovered a new land—which, in a sense, I had—but at the same time it was as if I had finally come home after a long and tiring flight. That day, I vowed to study animals and take care of them if they would need me. I wanted every creature in the forest to become my friend.”

“How wonderful,” Radagast said, feeling the story of Fluttershy right in his heart. He too, had found his home here in the Greenwood. Never had he felt at home between the loud and clumsy folks of Middle Earth, but he had found solace in the perfection of nature and the grace and cheerfulness of his animal friends. Rhosgobel was Radagast’s safe haven, and the Greenwood was his home with the animals his visitors. Radagast looked at the little pegasus, and for a moment, he felt her energy as an aura around her. His eyebrow shot up as he saw how similar the glow looked. He wanted to know more. “This cutie mark, is it magical?”

“It is,” Fluttershy said, swinging her long tail back so it covered her flank again. “It’s quite a special feeling when you earn your cutie mark. It’s like… It’s like you meet a new friend on the street, but then you realize that you already know him or her very well. It’s like meeting yourself, although you knew all along what you were like. In a flash, your cutie mark appears on your flank, for all to see for the rest of your life—oh, and it tickles a bit.” Fluttershy peeked once more at her flank, as if she was checking if it was still there. “And I guess mine is extra special.”

“Is that so?” Even though Fluttershy said those words very softly, Radagast had still caught them. “Why, if I may ask?”

“Because, well… I’m one of the elements.”

To Radagast, that sounded very magical, and his curiosity sparked. “What are the elements? Is it a magical order? You said that there was some supervision on the usage of magic, didn’t you?”

Fluttershy looked down, modest as she was, and traced circles with her hoof in the sawdust. “It is kind of a magical order. The elements of harmony are magical objects, which my friends and I keep in order to use their powers. Each one of my friends represents a different element. There’s loyalty, honesty, generosity, laughter, kindness, and magic.”

Radagast stroked his beard with an amusing smile buried beneath it. “Now that you say it, those things do make a good friendship. I can’t help but wonder about how well you Equestrians have infused your magic with goodness and light. Which element do you represent? Oh no wait, let me guess. You… agreed to help me repair my house, so it’s loyalty?”

Fluttershy chuckled, as she started comparing herself to Rainbow Dash, the actual element of loyalty. She imagined herself with a rainbow mane and tail, training all day long and flying together with the Wonderbolts on dangerous missions. She did admire Rainbow Dash, of course, and deep in her heart, Fluttershy felt that a droplet of Rainbow’s courage couldn’t hurt her. But she was nothing like Dash, nothing like Dash at all.

“I represent kindness,” Fluttershy said.

“Ah, of course, that would have been my second choice,” Radagast said, fumbling with his hands. “It’s a shame there isn’t an element of handiwork.”

Once more they laughed, and even Alexander the robin tweeted along. But Radagast’s curiosity was not stilled yet. “So if I understand it correctly, your cutie mark is both your trademark and your source of power?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Yes. Do you have such a thing too? Oh, your staff, of course.”

“You could say that,” Radagast said.

Now Fluttershy was the one who got a bit curious. “What does your staff do?”

“It… well…” Radagast doubted whether he should tell the little pegasus, as it was a wizard’s tool meant to be used by wizards alone. But then again, Radagast knew that Fluttershy wouldn’t steal it, let alone abuse its powers. It was far more likely that she would be scared of it. Radagast shifted into a more comfortable position on the wooden tiles, and did his best to explain the staff’s workings. “The staff itself isn’t that interesting, actually; It’s just an oak branch. But what is very interesting is the focusing crystal on top. It helps me to focus my magic into one point, from which I can steer it to the direction of my choice. It also works a bit like a magnet; the magic is drawn to it like flies to honey.”

“I see…” Fluttershy said, although the doubtful look in her eyes betrayed how she really felt about Radagast’s staff. It sounded complicated.

“It’s quite complicated,” Radagast said. “Because the staff is so versatile. I can also use it as a storage crate. A part of my magic—not all of it, of course—is stored inside the crystal, so I can call upon that effortlessly, to give my spells an extra boost when needed. Absorbing magic is also something it can do, a very rare feature.

Fluttershy nodded once more, but her mind boggled from all this wizardry-talk. She diverted her gaze for a moment, looked around at the half-finished roof, and then up at the sun; it was halfway across the sky. “Maybe we should finish the roof, Radagast. It is pretty late already.”

“Yes,” Radagast said, and followed her gaze to the sky. As if on cue, Alexander the robin flew up and away, until he disappeared between the shrubs of the tree line. “Well, it seems even Alexander wants to have a good roof above his head.”

Chuckling, the two creatures, wizard and pegasus, grabbed their tools and went back to work.

* *

The rest of the day they worked together under the traveling sun and the rustling wind. Soon the roof was nice and neat again, and they started on the pile of cracked stones that had to become a smokestack again. After Radagast made some crude mortar, he and Fluttershy set to build the thing up like it was a house. Fluttershy looked very curiously at the wizard when he stood with his arms circling above the buckets of mortar. “An invocation to make the mortar stronger,” Radagast said to the odd look Fluttershy gave him. “I will cast a second one over it to make it lighter.” Fluttershy shouldn’t have been surprised, and she reckoned that unicorn stonemasons would probably be able to do that as well.

When the smokestack stood erect, like a miniature tower against the greying sky, Fluttershy and Radagast proceeded to the next task: the support beams. With the help of an improvised winch and a lever, they were able to take some weight off the roof and push the beams straight. Just to be sure, they bound them tightly together with ropes and hammered a few nails in them. By then, the sun had retreated beyond the ring of trees, and the moon chased behind it. Above Fluttershy’s head, birds, squirrels, chickens, goats, and other animals started flying and walking by more frequently. Some retreated inside pens or in Radagast’s cabin itself, while other, more nocturnal animals flew into the forest, disappearing between the leaf crowns of the trees. At a familiar, high-pitched sound, Fluttershy winced and her head shot up. Flying over her, barely a head higher than she was, were black, leathery bats, zipping through the air. They were so fast Fluttershy couldn’t follow them with her eyes, and memories of one of her most strange experiences accompanied her with her work.

Even though the moon wasn’t full, it still provided the two workers with enough light to see their hands—or hooves—before their eyes. The fences surrounding the gardens deserved their attention; shaving the splinters off the crude wood would come later. Fluttershy held the poles upright with her hooves and sometimes with her head, while Radagast hit them with a large sledgehammer made of a massive branch with a flat-headed stone. Every time the hammer came down upon the wood, Fluttershy felt the vibrations travel from the top to the bottom of the pole, and then into the ground beneath her hooves. She couldn’t help but be amazed by the wizard’s strength. Even though he wasn’t even that much taller than Fluttershy herself, the hard life in the forest had apparently grown into a hidden source of strength inside of the old man. Compared to life in Equestria, life in the Greenwood had to be challenging from time to time.

Despite the heavy blows of Radagast’s hammer, Fluttershy wasn’t afraid. She saw how carefully the wizard worked; he was clearly experienced. Fluttershy trusted him, and Radagast trusted Fluttershy. They could both feel how well they worked together. It was as if they were feeling each other’s movements, and always knew what had to be done next. They were synchronized, in a sense, and it enabled them to finish the chores much faster than they initially thought.

Stars began to speckle the sky, and the air grew colder. Radagast decided to call it a day. He told Fluttershy that he would look after the ruined crops and garden later. Fluttershy insisted that she wasn’t tired yet, although she could feel a blanket of exhaustion wrap around her like the falling night sky. When the last bit of the fence was completed, they both retreated into Radagast’s cabin, which now looked better than ever.

They had a quick but tasty dinner, after which Fluttershy immediately fell asleep; she didn’t even reach the bed. Radagast stood up, and carefully laid the featherweight pegasus on the bed, where he covered her underneath the many blankets. “Sleep well, Fluttershy,” the wizard said, “tomorrow we will see some action.”

Despite his tired eyes, illuminated in the glowing light of the hearth fire, Radagast didn’t sit down. He walked towards a particularly dusty bookcase, reached up, and drew out a large, leather-bound book; then another one, and another one. He placed them on the table, careful not to wake his sleeping guest with the thud or the dust flying from the covers. Only then did Radagast sit down, and reached for his reading glasses. “Alright, let’s see what we have here.”

As Radagast flipped through the pages of the first book, it revealed nothing but gibberish. Strange, swirling circles and diamonds, which might just represent pictures, accompanied by even stranger lines and scribbles, which might just represent words and letters. To Radagast, however, these symbols were as clear as a fresh mountain stream. They were ancient languages, elvish mostly, and the symbols were helping circles, designed to attract and amplify magical energy from the surroundings. Only these symbols weren’t meant to be drawn on the ground in the dirt, but they were to be carved on the bark of trees or in stones. Radagast spent only a few seconds on every page, determined to reclaim as many forgotten knowledge and memories as quickly as he could; determined to get Fluttershy back home. Those few seconds were enough, as soon the rusty cogs in his mind started moving, oiled once again with the knowledge from the pages.

With every page he crossed, he remembered more about the art of teleportation, its workings, its feeling, and the things required to perform it. There were many different spells written in the books, complete with different verbal or mental incantations. Sometimes an object was required too, a stabilizer to ensure the teleportation going smooth. There were herbs or potions which had to be smelled or drunk, musical notes that had to be sung or played, and movements which had to be made like a dance.

But the most important aspect was the magic; the ability to concentrate on the streams and the flow of energy and channel it into one place. It was this task which was perhaps the most difficult one, and required the most concentration.

“The circle of channeling… Combined with these components… these objects…”

Radagast muttered many words and fragments of words under his breath, some in elvish; some in the common tongue. With his tongue sticking out of his mouth, Radagast scribbled symbols and loose words on a scrap of parchment. Then, when there was no more room to scribble on, he grabbed another one, and soon a pile of notes gathered next to his right hand.

Radagast realized that he had to be creative. Of course, there was nothing in his books about interdimensional teleportation, and Radagast doubted whether or not such a book would exist anywhere in Middle Earth. He had to be creative and invent a spell of his own. A mutant spell pieced together from many different kinds of teleportation spells, complete with the necessary symbols, words and components. Silently, Radagast wished that his friend Gandalf were here, to be able to help him in this daunting task.

That was one of the last conscious thoughts Radagast heard in his mind, as his head began to feel heavy and hard to bear. He imagined it would be because of the new knowledge he stuffed inside of it, but soon, his beard curled up beneath him, as the wizard laid his head on top of a page about magical circles. And so, with his quill still clutched between his fingers, Radagast fell asleep and dreamed about magic. ansi-languag�v[�* 2

Comments

[Luna Nightshade]

Nice Slice-of-Life ... I just have this logic question ... Fluttershy was in the center of the machine, being teleported ... how could she have seen what happened to the machine? She might have been able to deduce that it is now not functioning anymore ... with all that happened, but actually seeing all of it? Maybe I am just overthinking things though ...

I often do ...

[Elkia Deerling]

I know what you mean. I used kind of a flashback to show what happened to the teleportation machine, but I didn't make it clear whether Fluttershy saw everything or not.