Fluttershy hesitantly entered the library of Twilight’s palace. “Twilight? Do you have a minute? I have a very serious question to ask—”

Twilight marked her place in her book, shut it, and sighed. “Fluttershy, do you know how many times we’ve had this conversation? Not only here but in parallel universes? What secret are you keeping from me this time? You’re really a changeling? A vampire? A colony of moles in a suit?”

Fluttershy hastily took a sip from her Miracle-Gro shake and hid it behind her back. “Uh, no, none of those. I just wanted to ask…”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes?”

“If I was… wooden matter?”

“Huh? Oh, whatever. No, it wouldn’t matter to us.”

“Really?” gulped Fluttershy. “It… you wouldn’t care if I was…?” She stared about her at the wooden lecterns and furniture, and all of the books whose pages were composed from the shredded flesh of countless trees…

“No, Fluttershy. Whatever you’re made of, wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Oh,” asid Fluttershy, horror growing on her face. “Oh.” She eeped and fled out the door.

Twilight shrugged and returned to her book, moistening a hoof to flip a page, with a small chuffing noise as the keratin in her hoof chafed against the wood pulp.

The crescent moon glowed over the dark forest of the Everfree that night, and the few beams that shone between the gaps in the black foliage dimly illuminated a dismal scene. Timberwolves were gathering in a small clearing, snuffing and growling. Stranglevines visibly grew and curled alongside them, forming deadly tangles. Trees with squirming tendrils like hair, and grim faces, coiled their roots in the dank earth and impossibly pulled themselves closer, closer to one central figure, a slender tree of butter yellow with pink leaves…

“I have spoken with a leader of the Red Ones,” she said. “They do not care. They will not change.”

Leaves rustled through the clearing in anger and despair.

“We, the Green Ones, will not tolerate this any longer,” she said. “We will make them care.”

She waved a limb in the direction of Ponyville.

“Tonight… we walk.”

The Path Best Left Untraveled

The two sisters stared at each other, an irresistible glare meeting an impassive gaze, as the air about them started to shimmer and small objects rose smoking from the side table. The guards around them stood frozen, bound by their duty, unable to approach in the superheated air, unable to flee the imminent destruction.

Then the younger one snorted and turned, storming from the hall as she opened the door with a wild burst of oak-shattering magic, the air cooling rapidly behind her.

“Would that I were rid of you and your punctilious meddling, and could shine by my own lights!” she cried as she left.

The elder shook her head, more frustrated than she thought proper to show. “Would that her wild, impetuous nature could be calmed like mine, through mature reflection,” she sighed.

Unseen by all, a black clad figure stood outside on the balcony, and he spoke quietly, his tired voice older than kingdoms.

“As you wish, so be it,” he said.