They gave off an infernal reddish glow, and blinked at Fluttershy from a dark corner of the copse she stood under.  The eyes approached her slowly, but Fluttershy could not run—fear kept her rooted to the spot, and all she could feel were her legs buckling underneath her.  When the owner of the wicked orbs finally stepped out from the shrubbery, it showed itself to be a pony, the phantom pony the town always talked about.  Almost nopony ever saw him, and those who claimed to always regretted it.

The mysterious Pegasus, Nocturne, had that effect on ponies.

But did he mean to?

Fluttershy sat off to one side of the kitchen as Pinkie Pie hopped from one end to the other and back, picking up different ingredients for the cookies they were baking together.  Since yesterday, Fluttershy wracked her brain over this strange encounter she'd had.  All of Ponyville considered Nocturne to be a monster, and by her experience, she could agree.  In many ways, Nocturne was every bit the beast they said he was.  The rage, the horror, the unabashed evil, it was all too clear.

So why would Nocturne do something kind for a little squirrel?

“OOH!” Pinkie Pie squealed, “Chocolate chips! Lots and lots of chocolate chips! Ooh, and we need some walnuts! OOH! OOH! And cinnamon! I love cinnamon! Mmmm, these cookies are gonna be so nummy in the tummy!”

Fluttershy smiled at Pinkie's enthusiasm, but once again, her thoughts went back to Nocturne.  She had done so much thinking on the subject, she was afraid Nocturne had some kind of spell on her, and it affected her long after she'd run from him in those woods that day.  He was a monster, or at least looked like one.  But to scare away a pony and then perform an act of kindness for a squirrel stuck in a tree branch minutes later?  It just didn't make any sense.  If he was such a monster, why be kind to anypony or anything at all?

Fluttershy knew better.  After all, she represented the Element of Kindness.  She knew kindness could not be convincingly faked, and what she saw came straight from the heart.  However small it was, that act was pure and true, and it made Fluttershy absolutely certain that that meant Nocturne's 'phantom pony' act was just that: a facade meant to drive ponies away.  Why, she didn't know, and how long he'd be willing to go on like this, she was even more unsure of.

Getting close to him was the key.  And these cookies were a step in the right direction.

“Hey, Fluttershy!” Pinkie called, “I'm awful glad I could make you feel better by helping you with these cookies! Oh, you should've seen how scared we were for you! Twilight was all, 'She shouldn't be in there alone!', and then we heard you go, “AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!', and then we were like,” she gasped loudly, much like she herself had at the moment she recounted, “And then I was like, 'Who ya gonna call?!', and then you came running out, crying, and then we went to check on you, and Rainbow Dash was all like 'I'm sorry', and then you went to save the squirrel from the clutches of the wicked Nocturne! You're a hero, Fluttershy! And then we started baking you some hero cookies! YAAAAAAY, FLUTTERSHYYYYYYYYY!!!”

“Oh, Pinkie Pie,” Fluttershy gently deprecated, “I'm not a hero. I didn't even help that squirrel. I wish I could have, but I didn't.”

Pinkie stopped, “Wait, so . . . you didn't get there in time? The wicked Nocturne gobbled up that poor little defenseless squirrel!?!”

“No, no,” Fluttershy corrected, “The squirrel's fine, Pinkie. But I didn't save it. I'm not a hero.”

Pinkie Pie looked confused, “So, does that mean no hero cookies?”

Fluttershy couldn't help but smile again, “Yes, we're still baking cookies. But they're not for me. They're for . . . . a friend.”

“Oh!” Pinkie Pie replied, enlightened, “Well, who? Is it Twilight? Or Rarity? Maybe Applejack? Ooh, ooh! Rainbow Dash! I know! It's a thank-you to Rainbow Dash for helping you become more assertive, like she said! She made you a hero! That makes Rainbow Dash a hero! Hero cookies for Rainbow Dash! YAAAAAAAAAY, RAINBOW DAAAAAAAAASH!!!”

Fluttershy didn't argue, but she didn't agree, either.  The less Pinkie Pie knew, the better; she couldn't be sure that she could keep this a secret.  She had said that these cookies were for a friend, and as long as Pinkie knew that much, it was fine.  Truthfully, she felt guilty about lying to her friends (omitting the truth was just as bad, if not worse), but she didn't want them to worry.  She didn't know if she could convince them all that Nocturne was actually safe, but she still had to try, even if she had to do it by herself.  She was sure that if Nocturne was capable of a small good deed, then he really was a good pony deep down.

And a small good deed done for him was the first step to showing Ponyville who he really was.

Twilight and the others had caught up to Fluttershy by this time, and they all laid their eyes on Nocturne for the first time.  Pinkie Pie gasped loudly, and Applejack merely muttered, “Well, I'll be . . .”

“It's true,” Twilight awed, “He really does exist.”

“Hey, you!” Rainbow Dash bellowed, trying to look and sound tough, “I better never hear about you scaring my friend again, you hear me?!”

Nocturne saw them all and growled, his face the picture of evil that Fluttershy remembered.  His eyes glowing like two red suns, he slowly backed into the woods, obscuring himself until only his fiendish eyes remained visible.  Soon, they too were gone from sight.

But would he stay gone?  Or could she find him again?

Fluttershy continue to reflect on Nocturne as Rarity inspected several different fabrics hanging around in her boutique.  Having the means to quell Nocturne's rage was one thing; finding him, that was something else entirely.  Fluttershy decided that simply confronting Nocturne directly would be the best approach; until then, she still had to do something else for him.  After all, cookies were nice, but somewhat insufficient.

That's why Rarity looked around for the perfect material—for a blanket.

“Hmmm . . .” Rarity pondered, “Well, this lovely satin should do it . . . . or maybe damask would be a better preference . . . . oh, I just don't know! Fluttershy, darling, I'm having far too much trouble choosing! It would be better if I knew this friend of yours. What's he like?”

Fluttershy began to blush in mild shame; she hadn't been expecting this.  “Umm, well,” she tried explaining, “He's, uhh . . . he's kind of shy, like me . . . but he doesn't get out a lot . . .at all, really . . . and, I think . . .”  Fluttershy stalled for a minute.  Now that she thought about it, no one had ever said if Nocturne was ever seen outside the Everfree Forest.  All incidents related to him in the past involved him scaring somepony who had wandered too far into his area of the woods.  He'd probably never been in Ponyville before.  “. . . . I think he's really lonely,” Fluttershy continued, more steadily, “and he doesn't want anypony to see that. So, I wanted to do something nice for him. You know, to reach out to him, and show him that he's not alone.”

Rarity's eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed as she pointed them at Fluttershy.  “Oh, Fluttershy?” she asked, a bit ominously, “You wouldn't happen to be keeping something from me, would you, dear?”

Fluttershy's heart raced a bit.  How did she know?  What gave her away?  “Umm . . . I . . . I don't know what you mean . . .”

“Oh, Fluttershy, don't try to hide it,” Rarity said earnestly, “I can read you like an open book. The flushing of your cheeks, the stammer in your words, the waver in your voice, that sense of . . . longing . . . I know exactly who this blanket is for!”

Now it was Fluttershy's turn to widen her eyes; she couldn't reply to Rarity's suspicions with anything more than an, “Eep!”

“Oh, yes, you sneaky thing, you!” Rarity teased, stepping closer, “I can see it from miles away, darling. This blanket is for that pony, isn't it?”

Fluttershy stayed silent.  It was over, now.  She'd been caught.

“Yes . . . this blanket is for . . . . . that very special somepony, isn't it?!”

“Rarity, please, I can explain, I—what?”

“Oh, there's no need to be so secretive, darling!” Rarity comforted, “These feelings are hardly controllable! I couldn't blame you for feeling this way about your beloved! Oh, I imagine you feel the same about him as I do about . . . Fancy Pants . . . ooohhhh . . .” she took a moment to swoon, but was back at a moment's notice, “So, this colt-friend of yours, he must mean quite a lot to you, yes?”

Fluttershy glanced between Rarity and the floor.  Her secret was safe, but this was the last way she wanted to save it.  Still, in a way, it felt wrong to answer 'no'; she did find herself caring about Nocturne.  He must've been in some kind of pain, and she wanted to make him feel better, somehow.  Looking back up at Rarity, she grinned a little as she replied, “Well . . . . I guess you could say that.”

Rarity smiled back, with a hint of a schoolmare squeak, and hugged her Pegasus friend.  “Oh, Fluttershy, I'm so happy for you, darling!” she cheered, “Now, you be sure to take care of this young stallion you've taken a liking to!”  She then swept a piece of vibrant-looking wool off a rack on the wall, “And when you give him this lovely little blanket, be sure to remind him that it comes courtesy of Rarity's Carousel Boutique!”

“Thank you, Rarity,” Fluttershy smiled warmly and turned to leave, “Oh, it must get so nippy in those woods at night . . .”

“What?”

Fluttershy felt sheepish at the dead giveaway she'd just uttered, and scurried to recover, “Oh! Umm, I said . . . it must get so nippy . . . without wood to light. Yes, that's it, umm . . . see, he's kind of low on firewood lately, you know, for his fireplace? And he can't always keep warm, so, that's what the blanket is for! Umm, I have to go, Rarity. I'll . . . I'll see you later, okay? Thanks again!”  And with that, she went to the door and took off.

Rarity raised an eyebrow in the wake of her friend's bizarre exit.  “But it's the beginning of summer,” she recounted, “Why could he possibly need to keep warm?”  She then shrugged and giggled to herself, “Ahh, matters of the heart!”

Once on his hind legs, his wings unfurled, and the sight was terrifying, indeed.  Nocturne's wings were not just unusually large—they were obscenely large.  The complete span looked about twice the length of his body, maybe more, and didn't seem to match the rest of his body.  Nocturne's fur looked grayish (in the shadows, it was hard to tell), but his wings were pitch-black.  They were also not cute and feathery like Fluttershy's or Rainbow Dash's.  They were hideous, curved lengths of bone covered in ugly, scaly black membranes.  They looked like a bat's wings, or a gargoyle's wings, or . . . . .

The wings of a full-grown dragon.

The baby dragon looked back at Fluttershy in confusion, “You want me to write what?”

At the library, Fluttershy looked back at Spike's confused glance as he held the card in his hand.  “A thank-you note,” she confirmed, “There's somepony I want to thank for doing something really nice yesterday, and if you'd be willing to write out a little message from me to him, I'd appreciate it.”

“Hmmm . . .” Spike looked inside the blank greeting card, glancing between it and Fluttershy.  “Well,” he answered, “Since Twilight's out picking up some ink bottles, I guess she won't know I took a quick break. And it's for a friend of a friend, so I don't think she'll mind anyway.”  He pulled out a quill and readied for her words.  “Who do I make this out to?” he grinned, as if prepared to sign an autograph.

Fluttershy began quoting the exact words she wanted on the card, and Spike's pen moved in time with her words.  In only a few seconds, the entire message was complete.

“Cookies?” Spike asked as he finished writing, reading over what he wrote, “This guy gets cookies?”

Fluttershy giggled a bit, “Well, I suppose I should thank you for your help, Spike.”  She reached into the basket on her side and gently lifted out a cookie, “Here you go. I made these with Pinkie Pie. Freshly baked.”

Spike took the cookie and began munching on it immediately.  “Mmm! Delicious!” he exclaimed, spewing crumbs everywhere, “Wow! You and Pinkie make great cookies! Thanks, Fluttershy!”

“You're welcome,” Fluttershy replied, then glanced over her shoulder, “Oh, I'd better get going. Thanks again.”

“'Get going'? Already?” Spike questioned, “Can't I have just one more cookie?”

“I'm sorry, Spike,” Fluttershy replied, a little worried, “I, uh . . . I have to feed Angel. I'll see you later, okay? Tell Twilight hi for me.”  She went to the door and left quickly, feeling even guiltier than before.  While she did need to feed Angel later today, it wasn't the cause for her departure.

She hoped she could leave without having to explain herself to Twilight.

“Who are you?” Nocturne growled, his voice strangely a bit high for somepony so imposing, “What are you doing in my forest? I don't take kindly to trespassers.”

Fluttershy remained frozen with fear, but her mouth worked hard to explain, “Umm, I—well, I was j-just—I mean, I d-didn't mean—I didn't know anypony was—I-I mean . . . . I'm really sorry?”

The eyes and their owner, Nocturne, came closer, and the red glow seemed to intensify.  The red glow illuminated a blocky, yet soft-cornered snout, curved, pointy ears, and a wild black mane (was that a hat on top? Fluttershy was too frightened to tell).  Nocturne's frame was tall and slender, yet sturdy, and his unusually large wings were folded tightly at his sides.  His sharp eyes stared expectantly at Fluttershy, as if expecting a better explanation than just 'I'm sorry'.

“I'm sorry I'm late, Spike!” Twilight announced as she walked into the library, a bag of newly bought ink bottles slung around her neck, “The ink shop was surprisingly busy today.”

“Hey, Twilight!” Spike greeted her, still licking his fingers from the cookie he'd just enjoyed, “You know, Fluttershy came by while you were gone, and she told me to tell you 'hi' for her.”

“Fluttershy?” Twilight asked as she opened a drawer with her magic, “Did she need something?”

“Nothin' that good ol' Spike couldn't handle,” the little dragon grinned, “She just needed me to write up a little thank-you card.”

“Oh, really? For whom?”

“She never gave me a name,” Spike shrugged, “Just somepony who did a good deed yesterday, I guess.”

Twilight stopped, the ink bottles she was putting in the drawer frozen in midair.  “What?” she asked urgently, “What good deed?”

Spike shrugged again, “I don't know, something about saving a squirrel. Sounds like a nice guy, if you ask me. Man, that was a good cookie . . . hey, maybe after we're done, we can go pick up some cookies! Sound good, Twilight?”

No answer.

“Twilight?”

Still nothing.

“Hey Twilight, could we go and pick up so— . . . . where'd she go?”

Twilight had disappeared, all but one ink bottle put away; the last one spun around on the floor, as if in the wake of a gale of wind.

“NO!” Fluttershy screamed, “Please don't hurt him! Please! He's just a little squirrel! Please don't hurt him!”  But she was too late; Nocturne pressed a hoof down on the branch, opened his mouth, got closer and closer to the squirrel until . . .

He clamped his teeth over a hunk of the branch and pulled, breaking the branch and freeing the squirrel's tail.  Glancing confusedly up at Nocturne, the squirrel finally recovered its senses and scurried away.

They all scurried away.

Squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, mice, insects, spiders: all raced away at the sound of his hoofsteps.  All ran scared at the mere sight of his shadow.  All fled in fear from the glow in his eyes.

And it felt good.

Nocturne trudged through the woods, the trees casting perfect shadows over him, as he patrolled his territory.  For years, he'd painstakingly asserted his control over this section of Everfree Forest.  No pony, or any creature of any kind, would step into this area without regret.  He didn't care who or what it was, whether it was a ferocious bear or a harmless vole.

Or a sweet little Pegasus easily prone to crying.

Nocturne shook his head to clear his mind.  Why would that stuttering little trespasser even come back to mind, anyway?  She'd crossed the line, and Nocturne put her back in her place.  She got what she deserved.  He had no remorse whatsoever.

Or did he?

No! he thought, firing up the glow in his crimson eyes, No remorse! No regrets! No mercy! She just better have learned her lesson by now. No one crosses Nocturne! Not pony or beast!

Not anymore . . .

“Umm . . . Nocturne? Yoo-hoo, Nocturne?”

He heard it.  Another trespasser.  The voice sounded familiar, though; he was sure he'd heard it before.  It was coming from the edge of the woods, so he swiftly made his way through the trees and bushes in deep shadow to cut it off before it could enter.  It was simple enough; years of exile made it easy to see in the dark.

“A-are you there? I . . . I have something for you. I just wan—oh!”

The voice was cut off as Nocturne hid in a bush on the border of the woods, his fiery eyes aglow from within.  He knew he'd recognized that voice; it was that little yellow pest, the one he'd sent crying from the forest only yesterday.  First, she came back to mind, now she was back in person?  What did she think she was doing?  And how could she possibly not have learned to stay away?

And she brought company?  The sheer, infuriating audacity!

The Pegasus set down the basket she'd been carrying on the grass.   Her friend, one of the Unicorns he saw yesterday, crouched for a minute in defense, but the Pegasus stopped her.  She reached out and pushed the basket gently towards him, as if in offering.

What in the world was she doing?

“Um . . . I just wanted to give you this. As . . . well, as a thank you. For what you did for that squirrel yesterday.”

Nocturne glanced from the Pegasus, to her Unicorn friend, to the basket, and back again.  This was highly disconcerting.  Yesterday, she looked as though her encounter with Nocturne—the 'phantom pony' himself—had scarred her for life.  Now, here she was, back to the forest (with a friend, no less), making some kind of a peace offering.  Did she expect him to be willing to forgive and forget?  Was this some kind of ceasefire treaty?

Nocturne narrowed his eyes.  No hatchets would be buried today.

“This is your last warning,” he growled, “Stay away from me and my forest, or else.”

This seemed to set off something in the Unicorn, “Now wait just a minute! Fluttershy is trying to show you kindness, and this is how you repay her? Who do you think you are?! I'll bet this is the first time anypony has ever been nice to you, you ungrateful, mean-spirited old—”

The Unicorn's caustic words made something flare up in Nocturne's heart.  Some sort of searing pain, one he'd struggled to suppress his entire life, sprang up again.  It brought so many things back, so many things he'd tried so hard to forget.  It brought back tears, rage, fear, the feeling of being alone.  It brought back a childhood of torture worthy of Tartarus.

Oh, no.  This had to end, now.

Nocturne flexed his wings, and the horrific, hideous things burst from the foliage on either side of him.  He made his rage known with a deadly roar, “NOW!!”

Both of them squealed.  This seemed to do the trick.  He loved it when ponies could take a hint.

“Okay,” the Unicorn replied, chastened, “Uh . . . have a nice day.”  She and the Pegasus then turned tail and ran back into town.

The Pegasus, though, stayed for one last sickly saccharine word, “Umm . . . I-I hope you like the basket.”  She then raced away, begging her friend to wait for her.

Good riddance.

Just what was that little pink-maned nuisance thinking?  She had come face-to-face with a living nightmare, and she had the nerve to come back?  Was she stubborn, insane, or just plain stupid?  In any case, she was gone, and this time, it seemed she would stay gone.

Nocturne turned to leave, but something kept him in place.  A faint aroma wafted through the air.  Cinnamon . . . chocolate . . . it smelled incredible, unlike anything he'd smelled in years.

Cookies . . . . ?

Nocturne slowly poked his head out from the brush, sniffing the air and letting it lead him to the basket the Pegasus had left behind.  According to her, this was her token of appreciation for his act of compassion (which he was already starting to regret).  He would have rejected this gift, but he could feel his stomach churning.  He was starving, and at this point, it didn't pay to be too proud or too picky.  Looking around to make sure nopony was there, he gripped the end of the basket with his teeth and dragged it into the bushes.  Soon, both Nocturne and the basket were gone from view.

Already, the smell got stronger, and better.

Once a good distance back inside the woods, Nocturne sat down, looked inside, and saw that there was indeed a pile of freshly-baked cookies inside.  He took a cookie, and took a bite, and immediately, he felt a burst of pleasure go off in his mouth; it was wonderful.  He'd never eaten anything so sweet and delectable in his entire life.  He was finished with two more cookies when he noticed the blanket, and when he saw it, he noticed one other object with it.  Tucked into a fold of the woolen fabric was a small slip of cardboard; upon pulling it out, Nocturne saw that it was a card of some kind.  His honed night vision helping him, he read the handwritten message inside:

To my very special friend,

I wanted to thank you for what you did for that squirrel yesterday. That was so kind of you to help him the way you did. I hope you can give me a chance to thank you properly someday. Until then, I want you to know that you have a friend here in Ponyville.

I hope you enjoy the cookies. Be sure to stay warm, and please, be safe.

Love,

Fluttershy

Nocturne was stunned.  How could this be?  A pony he'd taken special care to keep away from him was still willing to be so kind to him?  This wasn't just a paranoia-fueled apology to keep him away; she'd taken time to bake these cookies herself, and the blanket looked as though it were homemade, as well.  And that card—a simple greeting card with a simple greeting—it showed just how little this Pegasus knew about Nocturne.  It showed how annoyingly ignorant she was of who he was and what he was capable of.  But at the same time, it showed how much she did know about him.  In fact, in a way, she seemed to have him all figured out, and that scared him.  The irony resounded deep inside him; this pony that he had scared so thoroughly himself, now threw the fear of Tartarus into him.  She was close to him, closer than anypony had ever been.  He didn't like that, but at the same time, he knew he desperately needed it.

Besides: was it so foolish to want to show somepony a little compassion?

How had she signed that note?  Fluttershy.  Nocturne would have to remember that. Next Chapter: Day 2 Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 56 Minutes