A rustling from a nearby patch of tall savanna grass drew my attention as I made my way back to Navarost, back home.

Mostly I tried to keep to the dirt road as I left Vostoris, but it would be faster if I just cut through the savanna.

Cloaked and with my rifle ready, I drew nearer to the oddly swaying patch of grass. As I drew closer the sound of crunching and tearing grew louder. Brownish leathery hide came into view.

Shifters.

The savanna and jungle were crawling with them, but was this shifter here alone? They usually hunt in packs, and more importantly what was he eating? Did I really want to know?

Carefully I circled around the lizard and soon spotted another one. There were two of them, and now I was in a good enough position to see what they were chewing on. Definitely equine shapes and the striped pieces of hide made it obvious that they were zebras.

I took aim at the closest shifter and dropped it with a three bullet burst from my rifle. The other snapped immediately up from its food and hissed in my general direction before bolting deeper into the cover of the grass, his hide already starting to fade and adapt to the surroundings.

Being invisible doesn’t help much when you’re flattening all the vegetation around you. I could have shot the beast if I wanted to, but it didn’t matter. The fact that it ran means that these two shifters were the only ones here. If there were more of them, it would have stayed and tried to find me. They are cowards and only attack when they have the superior numbers, or if something really drives them to. Like if they were mad, starving or cornered.

The bodies of the zebras were badly torn, and judging by the number of flies this wasn’t a fresh kill. I grabbed a piece of the battered barding on one of the zebras with my magic and tugged, trying to move the corpse.

Come to think of it, unless shifters learned how to use guns, I don’t think they killed these zebras. The stallion I moved, or at least I think it was a stallion. It was really hard to tell from what was left in the lower area. Several bullet holes marred the side of his skull and neck. A head from another zebra lay not too far from the stallion. It was cleaved off. Even with most of the flesh missing, the cut was too smooth. Shifters couldn’t have done that, their claws aren’t long enough and I doubt they could have swung them with enough force.

There appeared to be four bodies here, and it looked like the other two were shot as well. Judging from the gear they had I’d have to say that these were raiders, or slavers maybe.

Looking around I spotted two torn saddlebags. Now this did look like the work of shifters. Interesting how they tore at the seams and buckles of the saddlebags. Well the lizards can be clever at times. They hunt in packs, they’re good trackers, and I even heard some say that they could open doors too.

Poking through the saddlebags only produced a few caps, some spare pistol and SMG ammo, and a rusty knife. I took the caps, but left the rest. It was junk, even the pistol ammo was of a wrong caliber from what my pistol uses.

“I wonder what happened here?” Were these zebras caught trying to steal things for themselves and then they got gunned down once the others found out? Or maybe someone else shot them and then another raider came and scavenged what was left?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. What happened here isn’t important. There’s nothing I can do about it now. Besides, it’s getting late and I’ve been on my hooves since yesterday. I only took a break after IronClaw flew me over Vostoris.

I looked over at the bodies one more time before heading out. Somewhere along the way I’ll find a place to rest.

It’s been an unusually clear day today. Luna’s Moon hung high in the sky, and Celestia’s Sun painted the west sky a brilliant myriad of oranges and reds. My thoughts turned back to my friends.

I wonder what kind of mission they were on now, something dangerous no doubt. Mentally I winced at the thought, and then quickly berated myself. They’ve been doing this long before I joined. They could take care of themselves.

No matter how hard I tried I still worried. I chewed my bottom lip as thoughts of my friends in danger came unbidden to the forefront of my mind.

What if they need me to shoot someone from a distance, or watch their back? They don’t have a long range shooter on their squad. Or what if they need to get somewhere unseen? I have a cloak I could help.

My steps faltered and I considered going back.

“No.” I need to be decisive, I told myself and redoubled my pace, heading for the jungle.

Why am I going back anyway? Sure Joram is there and I’ve missed him, but what else is there for me in Navarost? A grave? I’ve never felt such a sense of longing like I started feeling a few days ago.

I felt my throat tighten and tears beginning to gather in my eyes. “Zaeryl, I really miss you.” I whispered to the wind.

That’s why I was going back. I need to see her again, even if it’s only her grave. Aside from Amber, Zaeryl is the closest thing to family I have, or had. I would like to visit my parents, but its best not to think of what serves as their graves now.

Far ahead I could make out the green canopies of the jungle trees. It’s funny, but from here they remind me of the green rolling hills I remember seeing in books about Equestria.

My imagination pretty much ran wild from that point on, and I kept imagining all sorts of landscapes. Meadows, forests, snowcapped mountains… It must be beautiful. That’s not to say that Zevrass isn’t beautiful too. It certainly doesn’t lack in variety. The savanna is gorgeous, and so are the jungles. They’re dangerous too, demanding respect.

I let my mind wander while keeping a brisk pace. I’ve seen so much in this… what was it? One week? So many beautiful things, horrible and terrifying too, but I like to focus on the good things now. I’m supposed to find somewhere to sleep, thinking about all the times I nearly died and those I lost is just begging for nightmares.

Mom, dad, Amber, Zaeryl, Barrel, Rudy, that stallion and slaver I killed in cold blood, almost killing Santir, the foal and mare I didn’t help… Damn it! I smacked myself in the head with a hoof. Why did I have to go and think about that?!

I sighed and felt like a mountain had been dropped on my back. I just need a break. A few days with nothing horrible happening. Just a few boring days. That’s not too much to ask for right?

My hooves ached as the terrain slowly inclined; I was going up a small hill. I had to start breathing through my mouth to get enough air in. Alright, I definitely need to rest.

From the hill I looked out onto the grassy field. The jungle was still far off, but luckily just beneath me there were a few large stones on an otherwise barren patch of earth. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it had I not been on the hill.

“That will do.” As good a place as any out here.

Carefully I made my way down the hill, casting glances left and right for any signs of movement. There were none. It appeared that I was alone out here. Good.

I removed my saddlebags to use as a pillow since the only other options were either the ground, or the rocks lying around. I would keep my cloak on and activated, just in case. Something or someone might bump into me while I sleep, I can only hope that I’ll react fast enough and shoot first. My pistol was in its holster on my chest, but the main weapon I intended to use was my rifle which I now kept underneath a hoof.

A sigh escaped my lips as I laid down and took the weight off my hooves. Already it was becoming hard to keep my eyes open. Before completely giving in to my exhaustion, I sent out a prayer for a dreamless nights rest.

The light breeze that reached my face from under my hood felt wonderful. The only sound that could be heard was the gently rustling of the grass as it swayed in the wind. I closed my eyes and let go, giving in to my exhaustion.

I woke to the buzzing of insects and waved my hoof to shoo them away.

What time was it? I looked around and realized it was still dark. Had I slept at all? I felt refreshed and ready to get going, but it still bothered me that no time seemed to have passed. Unless I slept through the day!

I jumped to my hooves and looked around; searching for any signs that someone was here. Everything seemed to be normal. No tracks in the dirt, no bent or broken blades of grass. I must have gotten lucky because no creature stumbled upon my little camp site.

After another quick look over I gathered my things and set out again. One thing that bothered me was that for some reason I was having trouble seeing. More so than usual, normally I could find my way around by starlight without too much trouble.

I looked up and saw the stars. There were no clouds, but the light coming down seemed… muted. A growing sense of unease worked its way up from my back and it only seemed to get worse as I continued onwards.

Despite my anxiousness nothing happened. I didn’t run into any raiders, slavers or even wild animals as I approached the edges of the jungle. I guess I was just nervous about going back home. Home… Zaeryl left me her home, but was it really my home? I don’t know.

My family and I abandoned our home while I was still young, when we were enslaved. But was that my home? What about Equestria? My great grandparents ran away from Equestria to escape the war? Was Equestria my home? Zevrass is not as bad as it once seemed to be. Not all zebras are bad, and there are places like Vostoris, Navarost, Sumaj and even Massif where ponies are treated well. It’s not perfect, but it’s a lot better than what it used to be.

My hooves moved on their own now, I didn’t even have to think about where I was going. I had found my way back to the road that lead to Navarost.

I wonder what Joram’s been up to while I was gone? No doubt his store is doing well, I hope he’s able to keep up with the villages demands. Zaeryl passed away and I left, they were no longer had a shaman to help them. For a village as secluded as Navarost, that could be disastrous.

I wanted to hit myself over the head. I shouldn’t have left like that. What if they need me? Not me particularly, but my skill.

My thoughts were interrupted once I realized that grass was brushing up my hooves. I had veered off the road and moved deeper into the forest. I recognized some of the trees and paths around me; I knew where I was headed.

As if guided I headed deeper into the forest. My destination was the grove and the grave.

Anticipation grew in my chest along with a sense of dread as I walked, ducking under some of the low hanging branches and hopping over stones and rocks.

What was I expecting to find, her waiting for me? I shook my head. Zaeryl was dead, but was it wrong of me for still wanting to see her, talk with her? As soon as the idea crept into my mind I pushed it out. I would never disturb her rest. I could never do that.

The sudden diminishing of roots and rocks around my hooves made me look up and behold the grove.

It looked a lot different at night. Most of the flowers had closed their petals, protecting themselves from the nights chill. This place had a timeless feel about it, unchanging. The night had robbed the grove of its wondrous colors, but bathed in starlight it took on a more eerie yet serene and peaceful look. There was no way to put it into words, but I felt a stillness here.

My hooves made no sound as I moved further into the grove. Ahead of me, the gnarled sentinel stood watch, the great trunk blacker than the night’s sky. Its bare twisted branches reached out to the heavens like claws, seemingly wanting to pluck the stars from their celestial home.

My breathing had increased its pace as I approached the small mound of bare earth.

There… Barely two meters below the surface rested the mare that saved my life and took me in, cared for me.

I sat down before the grave of my mentor, my friend and my mother. I couldn’t help but feel guilty about the way a felt. I love my mother and father, but was it wrong that I felt the same way towards Zaeryl? She took care of me, taught me and she was there for me during all those difficult times I had growing up.

My sight blurred as tears made their way down my cheeks and onto the ground. I can’t help the way I feel, I’m sure my parents would understand.

I looked down at the wet spots on the ground where my tears fell. There were so many things I wanted to ask, so many things still left unsaid.

A cold breeze hit my back and moved my mane. I felt like eyes upon me and I turned around. There was no one there, just the wind yet somewhere between the tree trunks that lined the grove I could see light, red and orange mingling together.

Before I knew what was happening I was back on my hooves and walking outside of the grove. Something in the back of my mind kept insisting that I shouldn’t go. The light seemed familiar and it tugged at something on the edge of memory, something horrible.

A sense of urgency made me quicken my pace. I leapt over bushes, roots and rocks, not daring to slow down. The light kept getting brighter and brighter.

The sense of dread only increased as the light grew in intensity just beyond the trees. Have I gone mad? There was obviously something very wrong and yet here I was, rushing to what all of my instincts were rebelling against.

The light seemed everywhere now. Shining between the trunks of all the trees around me, and I noticed a smell in the air now. The first thing I smelled since waking up, it only reinforced the feeling that I should turn back, but it was too late.

The moment I jumped over the last rock and cleared the trees, a wave of heat swept over me. Horrified, I stood and watched, watched Navarost burning.

Flames billowed out of windows, and as if hearing for the first time I became aware of the screams that echoed around me. Corpses lay scattered and charred on the ground besides opened doors, most belonging to adults yet some of the bodies were those of foals.

Mares lay blackened and curled up holding their young close to their chest. Against the curtain of fire I saw black silhouettes of zebras desperately trying to stay alive.

What could have caused this? Were they attacked?

A familiar voice screamed out in pain and I immediately recognized it as Joram’s. I started running down the street desperately trying not to look at the still burning corpses around me.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the store on fire. The sign had fallen off and was now burning on the ground beside the door. The screams kept coming; I could see fire in the windows.

The door was locked! “No, no, not now! Come on!” I yelled in my head, trying to ‘will’ the door to open as I banged my hooves on the hard wood. The smoke was stifling; every now and then a cough would escape my throat.

I backed up a few steps and rammed the door with my shoulder. It didn’t budge. The screams were getting louder now. I backed away and tried again. This time I felt it give a little.

Alright, one more time. I took a few steps back again and readied myself. With the sound of braking hinges and splintering wood the door flew inwards. I tripped on the doorstep and fell flat on my face.

As soon as I got back on my hooves I went into a coughing fit. It felt like there was no air in here at all. The heat was causing me to sweat and the smoke was not only making breathing difficult, it left my throat and airways feeling raw and stung my eyes.

I dared not call out and risk breathing in more smoke, so I made my way through the burning building, following the screams and all the while praying to Celestia and Luna to keep Joram alive.

The yelling was growing fainter and fainter, but I could determine that it came from the storeroom and not from upstairs. Again the door was locked. I didn’t bother ramming it like I did the previous one; instead I turned around and bucked it. Why didn’t I do the same with the front door?

The door gave way and I entered. Inside there were piles of boxes on fire along with a desk and most everything else, but there was no sign of Joram.

Maybe he was upstairs, damn it I’m wasting time! I was certain he was here.

I started to turn around and head back out, but the sight before me chilled me to the core despite the blistering heat from the crackling flames nearby.

Bodies, corpses, charred and some still burning stood in the doorway. They were moving!

I backed away a few steps and they came in, shambling in an all too familiar manor. Just like the ghouls at Prometheus, but these corpses were worse, much worse. They were still burning, flames sprouting from cracked hide, but unlike the ghouls I could see pain in the eyes of these poor souls. They were aware of what was happening to them. So why weren’t they screaming, or flailing about? They just shambled closer to me.

“Dear Celestia.” I breathed. One of the burning mares was holding a foal in the crook of one of her hooves. The foal too was burnt, nothing of its coat remained, only blackened hide. It looked at me with lidless eyes full of pain almost begging.

The nightmarish throng suddenly stopped and they moved apart, clearing the way to the door. A green light appeared among the burning red inferno.

My eyes were stinging from the heat and smoke, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the sight before me. With steady hoofbeats a black skeleton, with pieces of armor melting and dripping off at each of its steps, walked towards me. It was bathed in green fire and I recognized it. It was the zebra I had used one of Charon’s bombs on. It stopped just a meter before me and looked me in the eyes. Instead of eyes, in its sockets burned a green fire so bright it was almost white.

Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind. Was it going to kill me, or worse? Did the green fire have some properties I wasn’t aware of? If so what will happen with the others that were killed by it? Will they come back as well?

Rudy! Images about the griffin came rushing back to the forefront of my mind. In the sudden onslaught I breathed in and chocked.

The burning skeleton approached me, its head forever locked in a terrible grin, but in those burning pits I didn’t see joy at my suffering, or hate nor malice, I saw…

Pain shot up my back, incredible heat. I cried out and all the burnt corpses and the skeleton started moving towards me.

“No!” I shrieked and suddenly I was on the ground jerking myself up.

The speed and force of the action made my hood slip off. Suddenly I was looking up and saw a shifter sniffing the ground barely two meters in front of me.

It raised its head and looked at me for a moment. It was definitely surprised to suddenly find me so near.

Both of its large eyes focused on me and it opened its angular mouth and issued a baneful hiss. I got an impressive look at its razor sharp white teeth and its glistening barbed tongue. The scales on its body changed color, adopting the look of the scenery behind it at first slowly, but then his hide shimmered and the shifter vanished from sight.

Immediately I rolled to the side, somehow knowing what the creature’s next move would be. Dust rose up from the place I used to be laying on, and I felt rather than saw the impact through the ground.

It launched its tongue at me and barely missed, striking the empty ground instead. Seeing as how I had left my rifle behind when I rolled away, I instead pulled out my pistol and fired where its head should be.

The first bullet found its mark and actually caught the beast in the eye the other missed. The shifter shrieked in pain and I curiously noted that the inside of its mouth wasn’t invisible. This helped me line up another shot and kill the creature with four more bullets to the head. Once dead the shifters hide faded back into view.

I could hear my heartbeat slowly beating louder as it tried to keep up with the sudden excretion. I began panting as well, Celestia’s Sun was high in the sky and now with the recent activity I began to sweat and shake.

“It was all a dream.” I said to myself trying to calm down. The images were still so vivid in my mind and a cold shudder ran the length of my spine.

Now more than ever I was reluctant to continue on my way to Nvarost and at the same time I wanted to go even more.

Looking at the dead shifter I thanked both Celestia and Luna for surviving the encounter. I’m still amazed at how smoothly I managed the ordeal.

I waited for a while, give my body time to calm down and make sure that there weren’t any more shifters nearby. Gathering my saddlebags and rifle, I took a long drink from my canteen and continued on my way to the jungle despite the unease I felt. I needed to keep going.

“It was just a nightmare.” Part of me nagged and insisted that it was some sort of prediction, but I knew that was silly. No one knows what the future holds, it was impossible.

Many believe that shamans can see into the future, that the trances they sometimes enter and the elixirs they use allow them to see what will happen. This is not the case; they can only see what might happen. There is no absolute way of seeing the future.

It would be like me looking up at the sky and guessing from the clouds that it will rain soon. It might clear up for all I know.

In Zearyl’s own words she stated that the future is constantly moving and changing and a shaman trained in divination, someone who is sensitive enough to the forces of fate and destiny could predict the most likely outcome with some accuracy, but even then there are no guarantees.

“Then what’s the point?” I remember asking.

“It is a very tricky thing, gazing into the future.” Zaeryl explained with a coy smile. “Some actions occur in many of the possible outcomes the same way, enough so that the seer can make use of this knowledge.”

To better explain Zaeryl led me outside to the garden and we sat down beside a pale of water. She plucked a blade of grass and then gently set it afloat on the water.

I looked up at the mare expectantly. She studied the blade of grass patiently until it stopped and floated in place. Satisfied she nodded to herself and continued.

“Let us pretend that this piece of grass is a storeowner. Now let’s say a thief decides to steal from him.” Zaeryl reached out with the tip of her hoof and tapped the water’s surface. “The ripples that you see going out to the grass are actions that the thief performs in order to commit the theft. When the waves reach the blade of grass that is the store owner being directly influenced by the thief actions.” She looked at me with a smile. “Tell me, how would you prevent this from happening?”

“I would stop the thief!” I answered instantly. “Or warn the storeowner.”

She nodded and tapped the water again just a bit ahead of where she did it last. “The biggest changes would happen to the thief, but look.” She pointed to the blade of grass which was again gently moving with the new waves. “Your actions still reach the storeowner. He might find out about you stopping the thief and decide to warn you, or he might not even know about it.”

Zaeryl waited for the water to settle again before continuing. “Now let’s say you only found out the thief’s plan recently, and he was already on the move.” She disturbed the water’s surface again. “If you were to intervene again.” She touched the water between the blade of grass and the first ripples she created. “Again your actions affect them both, but this time the storeowner is affected more strongly.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Instead of warning the guards or the storeowner like last time, you actually catch up to the thief as he breaks into the store. The resulting noise might wake up the store owner. In his fright and surprised state he could reach for a weapon and fire on you both.” This is the part where I remember distinctly that my ears started drooping. “Or in his sleepy state, the storeowner could slip and fall down the stairs, breaking his back.” She offered.

“That’s terrible.” I remember stating sadly.

With a knowing smile she nodded. “I am merely presenting a few of the possibilities.” It was at this point that a light breeze made the whole surface of the water ripple and moved the blade of grass. “Do you see that?” She asked pointing at the water, I simply nodded. “That would be life.”

“What?” Wind was life? I scratched my head in confusion.

Zaeryl just nodded. “The ripples the wind made would be the actions of others. Others we don’t know about. Could be the storeowner’s family coming to visit, or maybe the thief’s friends planning on helping out their friend? Or they could simply be some passersby who noticed you stopping the thief as he climbs through the window.” She explained. “The things they might decide to do are numerous, and the responses of both you, the thief and even the storeowner can be just as diverse. And the consequences their actions could have on yet others are also numerous.”

I understood what she was saying, but the scope of what she was implying was… unimaginable. Hundreds, neigh thousands of possibilities came to mind. Ugh… Even now I get a slight headache just thinking about it.

Zaeryl would reach over and pat me comfortingly on the shoulder. “It’s best not to think too much on the matter. The possibilities are as numerous as the stars themselves. And not all of the actions have significant consequences.”

“Then how do shamans see the future? How can they know what will happen?” With an infinite number of possibilities it seems impossible to predict anything.

“While many different things may happen, some sequences of events occur more frequently than others. These are the ones that seer’s look for. What’s most likely to happen, not what will happen. You might say what’s fated to happen.” She offered. “But even fate can be changed, and often it is done by individuals who happen to be present at the right time and place, sometime they are not even aware that they’ve done anything at all. For all they know what occurred by their actions was what was meant to happen. It is believed that these are the individuals who shape history. Through their actions the chain is broken and the pattern rearranged.”

“Like Celestia and Luna, or the ministry mares? Or the Caesar and the General of the Remnant?” I asked and Zaeryl nodded.

“Yes, individuals who change and affect the lives of many.” She paused for a moment. “This is however what most shamans believe, it could be possible that we are very wrong, and that our lives are governed by a fixed set of events that can’t be changed. Preordained by higher powers.” She said while looking up and raised a hoof to the sky.

I frowned at that. “I prefer the first explanation.”

She looked back and looked at me with a pleased smile. “Of course you do. You have a free spirit and wish to be in command of your own destiny.”

“But isn’t destiny something that’s unchangeable?” Wasn’t that what destined meant?

Zaeryl put her hooves together and it appeared like she was meditating. “Hmm… How best to explain?” She said to herself. “If you think of a life like a book, a story, a journey with destiny being the conclusion at the end. But unlike in a book, we believe that we ourselves write the story and choose the ending. There are countless destinies that are achieved through actions, but it is we who choose how to act and therefore we choose our own destiny. We write our own ending to the story that is our life.” Zaeryls words gave me hope, they still do.

“Why did we have to go outside?” I asked looking around the garden? “Couldn’t you have explained this to me inside? We’ve got water and plates there too.”

“Three reasons.” The mare said with a smile. “The first being fresh air. The second is that I need to head out to the Navarost for some spices for dinner, and the third reason is that the weeds need to be pulled before I return.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, naturally that chore fell to me.

The memory of Zaeryls wise words and kind face soothed some of the anxiousness I felt about going back to Navarost. Now I was more determined to go back, to check on Joram and to visit my mentor.

I was sticking to the road this time, careful and alert for signs of danger. The path and trees around me all felt familiar, and it brought me a measure of comfort. The more time passed, the more I realized how silly I was to fear going back because of a dream. With the sun shining above me, and its rays passing through the canopies, the jungle felt alive. Insects were buzzing and birds were chirping, a perfect contrast to what I had feared.

I kept my pace brisk while still being careful and making sure that my cloak doesn’t flap about. If I run into any raiders, cloaked I would have the advantage.

Laughter of foals at play soon broke through the natural din of the jungle, and the sound of rushing water followed soon after.

The walls and roof of the first house peaked just behind a tree I was approaching. Not wanting to disturb anyone I choose to remain cloaked as I moved through Navarost.

As I walked I saw zebras going about their lives. Some were tending their gardens while others were preparing their weapons to go out hunting. While eating meat is frowned upon amongst most zebras, you can still earn a living selling pelts, teeth and claws of some of the jungle beasts.

I smiled when I saw foals playing in the river, splashing each other with abandon. Naturally the mother would sit nearby and keep close watch.

Navarost hasn’t changed at all since the last time I was here. I don’t know. Was I expecting it to be different now? It was presumptuous of me to think that me leaving would have an impact. It made me both happy and a little bit sad..

I was happy to see that the village could survive without a shaman, but was I really sad because this meant that I wasn’t needed?

Joram’s shop came into view; the house was whole, not burning. Rather than go in through the front door, I choose for the back entrance.

I strained my ears to try and hear anything from inside first before knocking on the door. With the surrounding noise I couldn’t really tell anything so I rapped my hoof on the door. For a while there was no answer, so I tried again.

“Hold on!” Joram shouted from inside, I could hear his hoofbeats getting louder. The sound of locks clicking was accompanied by an irritated sigh. “Why the back door? Is the sign at the front not clear enough?” Joram muttered as he pulled the door open.

He scowled looking around, I tapped the gem at my neck and his eyes widened with shock and fear. Quickly before he could slam the door in my face I pulled my hood down.

Joram studied me for a moment, his eyes darting everywhere.

“Hello Joram, haven’t seen you in a while.” I said putting on my best smile.

“Mist?” The look of shock grew on his face. “Mist!” He shouted and lunged for me, hugging me tightly.

“It’s really me.” I said guessing what he was about to ask.

“Well, where have you been? What happened, and what are you wearing?” He asked me in a rush pointing at my armor and grinning widely.

“It’s not something I can tell you in just a few words…” I tried to explain.

“Of course, of course, come in, I’ll get us something to drink and then you can tell me all about it.” He said at once and started inside but stopped suddenly and turned to face me again.

Before I could ask what was wrong he gave me another hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

Joram turned the little wooden tablet that hung by his window to show that the store was closed. He shooed away my concerns about him closing his store so early and showed me into a room with a table and a couple of chairs. The room had many crates stacked haphazardly, pots and jars filled with plants and berries were stacked on the nearby shelves. I also couldn’t help noticing books lying open on the ground. From the open pages I read a number of recopies for ointments and tinctures.

“Mist I’m really glad you’re here. I mean I was sure you were staying safe out there, but I was still worried.” Joram said as he walked in balancing a trey full of Sparkle-Cola bottles.

“What happened here?” I asked gesturing to the mess. It wasn’t like him to simply leave things laying around like this.

Joram set the tray down, blushed and coughed into his hoof. ”Well I’ve been busy and it’s not like you announced your visit.” He said with a smirk, pushing a bottle to me.

I levitated the bottle with my magic and popped off the cap with a satisfying hiss, the carroty aroma reaching my nose.

“What kind of armor is that?” Joram asked pointing with a hoof.

“Just something I had to get. I still have my old one right here.” I explained and pulled out the banged up, hole ridden mess that was once my armor. There were still some dried blood stains on it. “It got a little… damaged.” I said sheepishly passing it over to the zebra.

Joram took it carefully in his hooves, a look of shock on his face. Gently he unfolded it and ran a hoof across some of the holes, being careful to avoid the stains.

“Mist… What happened?” Joram asked tentatively, his eyes wide.

“A lot.” I said simply and looked away as images of all the things I’ve seen and done came cascading down before my eyes.

“How bad?” Joram asked looking right at me.

“Bad.” I sighed. “I’ve done things…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Joram said with understanding, but I could see that he was curious.

I trusted him and I knew that he wouldn’t judge me, but that’s just it. Maybe I wanted to be judged, someone to tell me that what I did was wrong. The way I killed that slaver and that pony, the way I almost killed Santir. I knew what I did was wrong yet no one would tell me. IronClaw was just angry that I didn’t get any information first. Saw agreed with what I’ve done and so did Cog if hesitantly. And Shrapnel, she still thinks I’m a good pony.

I took a long drink of Sparkle-Cola and decided to tell Joram, not all the details though. Some things I’ll keep to myself.

Joram just sat there and listened, taking a drink from time to time. He didn’t interrupt me with any questions. Occasionally he would frown or his eyebrows would rise in shock and surprise, but that was all that he did.

Once I finished my story we sat in silence for a while.

“If anyone else had told me what you just did, I would have called them crazy.” Joram said and smirked. “I may have even called you crazy if I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes.” He said lifting up the battered Remnant armor. “The things you did, well they’re amazing. Crazy and maybe stupid, but amazing nonetheless. You did well, and maybe the spirits intended it? Maybe it was fate that you set out into the world.”

His elation slipped and he sighed lowering the armor back down on the table. “What you did at that village.” He shook his head sadly. I knew what village he was referring to, Firth. “I was about to say that you are only a pony, but I guess a more appropriate term would be that you are only mortal like the rest of us, and you made a mistake. I’m sure Zaeryl would have been proud of the way you took responsibility, but you can’t be too hard on yourself. The important thing is to try and do better next time.”

I nodded. Maybe he was right. I don’t know if I can ever fully get over it, but I’ll try.

Joram brightened a little. “So, how long are you staying? Are you in a hurry to go back out there?”

“I have no idea. I think I’ll stay here for a while. I just need…” Before I could finish my sentence Joram had already walked around the table and put a hoof on my shoulder.

“Mist, Navarost is your home. Stay as long as you want.” He said and smiled reassuringly.

“You don’t want me to stay for good?” I asked feigning being hurt.

Joram just smirked. “I’ve known you since you were a foal. Let me tell you, I wasn’t too happy with your decision to leave in the first place, and what you just told me doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence either.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember you complaining much when I first left?”

“Mist.” He said. “Not a day went by that I didn’t worry about you, but you wanted to go. I had no right to stand in your way. It’s the same now. Stay or go, whatever you chose I’ll support you.”

I was truly touched by his words and had to hold back a tear at his sentiment. “Thanks.”

“But since you’re staying, would you mind helping me out?” He asked tentatively, and then quickly added. “Not right now, tomorrow maybe?”

“Heh, sure.” I had a suspicion he needed help, I just wondered when he would work up the nerve to ask. “Oh and my armor…” I remembered that it was in a sorry state and needed mending.

“Don’t worry about it. I can have it good as new by tomorrow. You’re lucky someone not too long ago brought back some torn up Remnant armor. I’ll be able to salvage some parts from those to fix yours.” Joram explained.

“Who brought them? Where did he find the suits?” The Remnant aren’t careless with leaving their gear behind. That’s one of the reasons getting a stealth cloak is so difficult. Only they know the secret to making them and they do all they can to make sure that only they have them.

“Some zebra.” Joram scoffed. “He’s not from around here. I asked him the same thing and he only told me that he found four of them dead while hunting in the jungle. Their gear looked valuable so he took it.” Joram explained. “From the tears I’d say they were attacked by wild animals.”

“Maybe.” Something seemed off. How often do trained Remnant agents get killed by wild animals? Joram can salvage the parts he needs from pieces of their armor, which means it’s similar to my own and the type of armor I use is usually given to elite members.

“A Ripper beast maybe?” Joram offered.

“Probably.” I said finishing my drink and getting up. A ripper could do it, I just don’t think they would be careless enough to simply run into one.

“Are you going home? I picked some plants that I needed and planted new ones.” Joram said walking beside me. “Also pulled weeds when they appeared.”

“Thanks.” I said and smiled. “I am planning on going there, but first I want to see her.” I didn’t have to explain who I meant, Joram knew.

“Would you mind some company?” He asked quietly.

I shook my head. ”No, I’d actually appreciate it.”

Joram told me a little bit about what I missed in Navarost while we made our way to the grove. Not much had changed in my absence. A new family had moved in, a few zebras were lost to the jungle wildlife, but there was nothing that could be done about that. I felt guilty when Joram told me about the added work he had to do when I left.

Without a shaman all the villagers came to him for potions or cures. Despite his modesty, Joram did amazingly well. Now looking at the zebra I can say that he definitely changed since I last saw him. He’s more confident and wiser now, but I can’t shake the feeling that the wisdom was hard earned.

I intend to ask him about it later, but for now I have something else I have to do.

Joram and I cleared the last trees and now stood at the edge of the grove. Looking at the gnarled tree in the center of the grove invited back the image from my dream. I froze in place remembering the unnatural stillness.

Joram took a step forward and his movement broke me out of my daze. The grove was peaceful now, but there was a life to it, color.

Both Joram and I moved in silence, closer to the tree in the middle. As we came closer my hooves got weaker. It wasn’t fear that I felt now, but tremendous sense of loss. My chest ached as I moved to the mound of earth by the roots. My breathing was coming in short burst and I felt wetness on my cheeks.

Some distant part of me realized that I was sobbing, but my thoughts were buried under all the memories I have of Zaeryl. All of her kind words and wise counsel. The patience, the love she showed me.

My hooves finally buckled under me and I sat down on my haunches beside the grave. I took a glance at Joram and saw that he was crying silently. His eyes locked on the grave of his friend, no doubt remembering his own time with her. I envied him, he had known her longer.

It just wasn’t fair. Why did she have to die? I thought about my parents and the thorny vine that constricted my heart tightened. When they died I thought I was alone, then Zaeryl came and I believed she could fill the void and she did. So why was she too taken away from me?! It’s like a cruel joke that keeps being played on me. Who’s next? Amber? My friends?

“No.” I hissed through gritted teeth. My jaw was starting to ache and my teeth hurt. I hadn’t realized how hard I was clenching them. I didn’t care. I was helpless to save my parents, and I couldn’t save Zaeryl either.

I felt a hoof on my shoulder and I turned to look at Joram. He was still looking at the grave with tears on his face and a faint smile.

“For a long time we both knew that the taint would eventually catch up with you.” Joram said quietly. “I remember how we first met. I was lost and alone. The others in the trade caravan got attacked and only I survived.” Joram removed his hoof from my shoulder to wipe away his tears. “The bighorn was wounded and couldn’t move quickly enough; the raiders would have killed me if you hadn’t been there.”

I looked curiously at Joram. ”You weren’t born in Navarost?” I asked and he shook his head.

“When I was very young I traveled with a caravan. When we decided to take a break we were attacked by raiders. I don’t know how I survived.” He shrugged. “It happened so fast. We were talking and then suddenly I heard gunfire. I remember a friend yelling at me to get the bighorn moving.” A heavy sigh left him and it was my turn to offer support.

I gently placed one of my hooves on his shoulder. “What happened?”

“There was no time to think so I did as I was told. I jumped on the caravan and got the bighorn moving. After a while I looked back and noticed that only the raiders were following.” Joram shuddered. “I could hear in the distance as the mares from my group screamed. Then a bullet hit the bighorn and it started slowing down.” He lifted his head up and looked up at the sky. “At that moment I had accepted death, I was going to be with the spirits.”

Joram turned his head back down to look at me. “But then Zaeryl saved me. At first I didn’t even know what was going on; the raiders just started collapsing to the ground while they ran. Once they noticed that something was wrong they started looking around for signs of their attacker. At the time the bighorn had had enough and it too collapsed to the ground leaving me to watch what was happening. We were close to the edge of the jungle so the raiders started firing at the trees. One by one they fell dead.”

“How did she kill them?” I asked hanging on every word.

“With her pistol.” He said simply and pointed at my chest. “That pistol. She was invisible too. I was terrified. There was something unseen quickly and efficiently killing all of these raiders. I kept wondering when my turn would come and would I even be aware of it?”

“She killed all of them?” I asked.

Joram nodded. “There were six of them. Five she killed while invisible, the sixth one got wounded by one of her panicked friends. When the wounded one was the only one left alive besides me, Zaeryl turned off her cloak and calmly walked over to the wounded mare. The raider tried to bargain with her. Like me, the raider thought she was Remnant, so she immediately started yelling that she wasn’t a Separatist.”

“Zaeryl pretended to think it over and then she told the mare to leave and warn the rest that they were in Remnant territory and they will be killed if they are found here again.” Joram said and chuckled. “This only scared me more. I prayed that she would let me leave too. There were stories about Remnant tortures that I heard over campfires that still scare me; the worst part is that most of them are true. So you can imagine my surprise when the raider had limped away and Zaeryl approached me smiling.”

Actually I could picture it in my mind and I couldn’t help but smile when I imagined Joram’s shocked expression.

“She helped guide me to Navarost and find a place to set up a shop of my own. You see the villagers never really had someone to maintain trade in the area, and thanks to my earlier work I managed to get more caravans to pass through the jungle and stop at Navarost.” Joram explained.

I remembered from what Zaeryl had told me about this part of the jungle. Only the deeper parts to the east actually have frequent Remnant patrols, there are a few outposts here and there, but they haven’t officially claimed this part of the jungle. Most don’t know that, and they generally keep away out of fear, which is good.

Joram looked at the grave sadly and pressed a hoof into the mound, leaving a small impression.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you and miss you. Rest easy my dear friend, you taught Mist well and he turned out to be a fine stallion.” Joram said smiled up at me.

I felt my throat tightening and the beginning of new tears.

“Mist, never doubt that she’s proud of you and I’m certain your parents are too.” Joram said as he rose and quietly left.

I remained there in the silence and stared at the ground, listening to the fading sounds of Joram’s hooves.

“I’ve been away for a while, traveling. Maybe I just felt like I needed to get away, I had just lost you and I thought that if I wasn’t… near this place I wouldn’t hurt so much.” I talked to myself, deep inside me hoping that Zaeryl could hear me.

I was taught that when we die, we join Celestia and Luna in heaven. A place where all ponies go, you can be with loved ones for all eternity. There is no pain there or suffering, just love. They believe that from this heaven, the ones that died watch over and protect us.

Zebras have a similar belief. They believe in paradise, a place like this world, but different. A world that both exists here and doesn’t. A place where spirits roam, those spirits can sometimes briefly come into our world, to help, or offer guidance. They believe that their friends and loved ones look after them this way.

I don’t know who’s right, but I always felt, or liked to believe that no matter where she went, Zaeryl was still with me.

“I thought the pain would stop. And for a time it did, but it didn’t last long.” I sighed. “I needed to come back, to talk to you.” Tears flowed freely from my eyes. “I’ve seen horrible things, done horrible things. Sometimes I think it was better when I was a slave.” My heart was pounding so strongly I could hear it. “At least then I thought that only the Remnant were to blame, but there are so many things wrong with the world. I know that some are trying to make it better, they really are.” Vostoris did what I haven’t thought possible. It wasn’t perfect but they were treating ponies better than others.

“I just don’t think it will ever be enough. I don’t think that we’ll ever be able to go back to the way things were before the war.” I whispered and pressed my own hoof into the mound like Joram did not too long ago. “I only know that it would be better if you were still here. How can I go on when I keep losing the ones I care about?”

I waited, but no answer came. Being here however did bring a measure of peace to my soul. I could almost feel her comforting presence beside me. Imagine her placing a hoof around me and telling me that there is always hope.

I stayed there until I noticed the world getting darker and the stars twinkling overhead. Exhaustion weighed down on me and I felt it was time I got going.

Rising slowly I looked at the grave and took a deep breath. “One day I’ll see you again. Celestia willing my parents will be there too, and we won’t have to suffer anymore.”

I made my way back following a familiar path. I didn’t even have to think about it, I was so familiar with the path I had to take, avoiding the poison joke. Soon Zaeryl’s home came into view.

It looks exactly the same as the day I left. Passing by the garden I noticed the lack of weeds, Joram’s doing.

A vast number of different smells rushed at me and threatened to overwhelm. The flowers were in bloom and they were beautiful. Everything around me brought back memories of a happier time. I felt like I was… home.

There was the spot where Zaeryl taught me to meditate. I never could manage to quite my mind enough; always I would get distracted by a buzzing insect or something.

I stopped at the door and just looked at it. The cracks and markings on the wooden surface so familiar to me. The key was left under a rock, unassuming and hard to spot over the flowers growing there.

I reached out with my magic, lifted the small stone away and picked up the key. The hinges didn’t creak when I pushed the door open; the only sound that you could hear was that of the wind and the crickets.

It had gotten dark enough that I had to use the brooch to light my way. If I was in any other home right now I’d be on edge. The light from my brooch was making sharp and twisting shadows dance on the walls, but I knew that they came from the number of fetishes, masks, beads and other things that were laying around.

I moved to the dining table and lit a candle. The mirrors it had help disperse the light around making it easier to see. As I lit more candles I turned off the brooch and looked around my… home.

The walls, the pots and items I was familiar with all of them. I felt safe here. It’s so strange that I can’t remember the last time I felt like I didn’t have to worry about something attacking me. No need to plan ahead.

The only thing that seemed strange was the few books I don’t remember leaving just laying around and the lack of dust. Judging by the pages that the books were open too, I guessed Joram did enter the house and cleaned it. He was looking at recopies for healing potions and purgatives? Why would he need recopies for these kinds of potions? I’m sure he already knows how to brew them himself. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.

I climbed up the staircase to the upper floor where our rooms were. I pushed open the door to Zaeryl’s room. I left it neat when I left and now looking at the table I can almost see her hunched over, focused on reading one of her many books and scrolls. I remember how I would dash inside when I was little; proudly showing her how I found the right plant and what I knew about it.

No doubt I disturbed her concentration, but she never got angry or upset. She would just smile and listen. Calmly correcting me if I had forgotten to name one of the properties of a certain herb.

I lightly brushed the smooth surface of the hard wooden table as I stood by it. This whole place reminded me of her and it brought me peace.

My hoof slipped off the edge of the table and landed on a drawer knob. I pulled it open and inside I saw many scrolls and something else, her pendant.

A simple metal coin made from silver and other metals. The sign imprinted on it was that of her glyph. Zebra’s marks are more mysterious than the cutie marks of ponies which simply imply our talent. Zaeryl told me that a zebra’s glyph is a glimpse of the soul. I always thought hers looked like a face.

Gently I lifted the thin chain and lowered it around my neck. The pendant came to rest easy on my heart. I felt a tremendous feeling of warmth wash over me, and I for just a moment I was back again by Zaeryl’s side. When I opened my eyes she wasn’t there and I felt a pang in my heart, but it wasn’t as intense as I thought it would be.

I lifted a hoof to the pendant curiously. Had she enchanted this herself and attuned it to me? She must have. This was her way of still being with me.

Shaman’s at certain point’s make these pendants as a mark that they have finished their apprenticeship. The items boast the most powerful protective charms a shaman can bestow. A warding from evil that might befall the wearer, protection from malicious sprits and also a true mark for other shamans to recognize.

Each of these pendants can only be worn by their maker. What they might do to those who try to steal them can range from giving them a constant rash that intensifies the longer it is worn, to bestowing illness, sometimes fatal. I knew that I could wear this one. I could just feel it. Zaeryl attuned it to me.

Tears started running down my cheeks. The effort required for something like that is monumental, and it also means that you need to know and understand the person you are attuning it to completely.

What touched me also was that she knew that I could never make my own, so this way she wanted me to know that I was worthy of the title of shaman. I don’t know if other shaman would agree, but to have Zaeryl believe in me this way... No. She loved me and that’s why she did it, but I will never be a true shaman. It’s impossible.

Even were I to find someone to continue my training I could never achieve their kind of connection with the natural forces, because I am a unicorn.

Every time I would try and reach out to the natural magic, my own magic would ‘jump’ to the call and I would just end up levitating the object I was trying to charm, or singe it because it’s not a gem and can’t be enchanted in such a way.

“Do you think an earth pony would be able to do it?” I remember asking.

“Perhaps.” Zaeryl answered while deep in thought, and when she saw how sad I’d gotten she would smile reassuringly. “Don’t be sad. Your gift is great by itself. You’re no less capable than anyone else. In fact you are more so because you’re a unicorn. I know that many shamans envy the kind of power you have.” She said. “We’ll just concentrate more on other arts.”

Thankfully brewing potions only required knowledge on what regents to combine and in what way. I wasn’t completely inept at shaman magic; I’ll just never be able to truly master it.

I tucked the pendant inside my armor and turned to go to my old room.

I couldn’t help but look out that very same window and seeing the sky. Looking at my mattress I levitated it aside and checked the compartment underneath it.

I smiled when I saw the small wooden box still inside. Gently I pulled the lid open and took out the letter Zaeryl had written for me. There was no need to reread it, I remember exactly what she wrote, but I still enjoyed looking at the writing.

I folded the letter and placed it back inside the compartment and pulled the mattress back over it. Even though I had moved to Zaeryl’s room, tonight I wanted to sleep here.

Laying all of my things to the side I laid down on the mattress with a contented sigh. It felt incredible to sleep in my own bed again. I only managed a few more coherent thoughts of planning what I’d do tomorrow before sleep had taken me.

The Sun’s bright rays were warming my face and I stirred beneath my covers. The dream I had was already fading from my memory, I could no longer recall if I had dreamt at all.

Wait… this situation seemed familiar for some reason… I jerked up onto my haunches quickly, still squinting a little from the sunlight as I felt heat rush to my cheeks. A quick glance about assured me that I was alone and in my room.

With a sigh I rose and started dressing. I was already pulling the guard armor over my head when I realized that I didn’t have to hurry. There was no danger here, no need to rush. No one was going to attack me and there was no mission that had to be done, I could take my time. After making my bed I went downstairs to see if I can find something to eat.

I didn’t bother to look in the pantry since I didn’t know when I was coming back I told Joram to take what I had. Instead I headed outside to the garden.

As soon as I stepped out I filled my lungs with the fresh morning air, it really was a beautiful day, a lazy kind of day when you just wanted to nap in the shade.

After some poking around the garden I picked up some carrots, potatoes and a few other plants that gave me an idea for something I plan on doing later.

I decided on making a simple stew and I couldn’t avoid the stab of pain I felt when I decided to use one of the smaller pots since I was… only making enough for one.

As I ate in silence I realized how much I missed having company during meals. Before I always ate with Zaeryl, later it was with Cog, Shrapnel, Saw and IronClaw. I can’t believe I started missing Cog and Saw’s arguing, or Shrapnel’s banter. I pushed the thoughts aside and finished my meal.

After cleaning up I prepared the bottles, pots and opened one of Zaeryl’s books just to make sure I don’t mess the potion brewing I intended. I have plenty of normal healing potions left, so I won’t have to make healing potions of my own. Instead I set to brewing antidotes to various poisons, salves and tinctures that stop bleeding. I also wanted to try and make some of the more risky recopies. Elixirs and potions which temporarily boost ones speed, endurance or strength. Naturally potions like that cause strain on the organs, and they can have nasty after effects. They should only be used when absolutely necessary, but judging from what I’ve been through, having them might be a good idea.

The most difficult part about brewing such potions is the precision needed. Too much of a certain ingredient and you could end up with a toxin or a poison.

I’ve decided to at least try and make three vials of a potion that boosts speed and reflexes for a short time. The worst that could happen if I get it wrong would be temporary paralyses and blindness, but I was confident enough that I could do it, and it was one of the simplest of these kinds of potions.

“Careful, careful…” I muttered to myself as I added some of the rarer dried plants which were stored here.

This particular potion is prepared in water, the stronger ones usually need a mixture, exceptionally pure water or really strong spirits, I’d bet Saw would approve.

Once I was done mixing the ingredients I stepped back and held my breath. There was no smoke or any noticeable reaction, just a slow changing of color from brownish to a clear blue.

“Well thank Celestia.” I muttered as I poured the content from the small pot into the jars. The clear blue and scentless liquid meant that I was successful. The potion of alacrity was done, and so were the basic antidotes and the healing salves.

Next I tried making a potion that helps fight fatigue. It doesn’t restore strength, but rather masks it. You don’t feel as tired, but the strain is still there. This kind of potion is dangerous for obvious reasons, if you’re not careful you can literally die from exhaustion, or seriously injure yourself from the strain you’d unknowingly be putting on your body. Other than that, it doesn’t have any after effects of its own, and it is easy to make.

Once the water was boiling I started adding the ingredients. The crushed seeds and oils gave it a yellow color and a not to pleasant aroma. Before pouring it into the bottles I prepared this potion you need to taste. A small spoonful was enough, and the strong bitter taste confirmed that I’d gotten it right.

There was no need to worry because of the small amount I’d taken, it should only affect me for a few seconds. I was already well rested so no reason to worry myself about over exertion.

Most potions are brewed from plants, occasionally you would have to add some minerals for the more complex ones. Salves and oils, everything that has to be rubbed and absorbed through the skin may actually require animal parts. Salves need animal fat for instance, and it’s part of the reason why I don’t enjoy making them, but I can’t deny their usefulness.

The most difficult elixirs are the ones that can have a permanent effect. These are very hard to make. Not only are the ingredients hard to find, they can, and often do involve animal parts. Crushed stingers, venom glands, eyes, muscle tissue usually from the heart, teeth, marrow and so on. Some can only be made during specific times. Like during a starless night, or a full moon, eclipses… though only elixirs and rituals that are tied to dark magic are generally attempted during an eclipse.

Zaeryl admitted that she knew of some of these elixirs and rituals, but she refused to tell me anything about them other than that they come from a time long ago and that the cost they entail was too great.

I tried to find out more about them through the books she had, but I couldn’t find anything than a passing note about them which didn’t tell me anything that I haven’t already heard.

An idea came to mind and I started rummaging through my saddlebags until I found the book Azar gave me. It didn’t have anything about those dark rituals but it did have his notes on ingredients I could supplement while making some elixirs.

I bit my lip as I flipped through the pages. Maybe an elixir was beyond my skill? Looking at the potions I just prepared and with learned easy thanks to Zaeryl’s teaching I felt confident enough to make the attempt.

The original recipe needs a stone flower. I only know what the plant looks like thanks to the picture in the book, I have never seen it myself. It’s rare and very hard to find. Zaeryl believes that it grows in certain patches deep in the jungle. It was too dangerous to go out there, but according to Azar the stone flower can be replaced by crushed shells from a more common plant and some powdered calcium.

The brewing process went incredibly well, so well in fact that I was suspicious of trying the elixir and for a while I thought about not trying it.

“Maybe I added too much… hmmm.” I looked over the spoons I’d used and the contents of the ingredients in the jars. I have checked them over three times now. The measures were right, if there was anything I’d learned from Zaeryl about brewing is that precision was absolutely important.

I sighed and looked at the white potion. Carefully I levitated it closer to me and gave it a sniff. It had a very feint chalky smell.

While still thinking over the possibilities of what might happen if I got it wrong I decided to clean up and pack the other prepared potions.

“What a mess.” I said as I opened my saddlebags and saw the mess within.

I need to better organize my things, everything is just piled on. Moving things around I put the potions and magazines on top of everything else, something I should have done a long time ago.

While I reorganized my things I kept thinking about the elixir. If I drink it will permanently change something in my body. There are no side effects and no outwardly changes if I decide to drink it, but if I made a mistake…

After sorting everything out in my saddlebags I took a deep breath and levitated the elixir to my mouth.

“Celestia, Luna… be with me now.” I said and downed the contents.

The elixir left my mouth and throat feeling a little dry but other than that I didn’t feel anything. I stood unmoving and waiting for something to happen. Slowly warmth spread through me followed by an ache that passed from my hooves all the way to my horn.

I closed my eyes, swallowed and shook my head to clear the dizziness. There was a ‘thud’ and suddenly I was shaking.

“Mist! Damn it wake up!”

I blinked and looked up to see Joram sitting on his haunches, shaking me. What am I doing on the floor?

“Joram… what?” I said dazedly trying to recall what happened.

Joram let out a breath. “Thank the spirits. What happened to you?” He demanded sternly. I couldn’t blame him now that I started remembering what happened.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to worry you…” That elixir must have knocked me out, add that to the list of stupid things I did. That’s right! I drank it! “Joram, quick tell me! Do I look any different?” I asked the confused zebra while looking myself over and flexing every muscle I could.

“Uhh… you look fine.” He said looking at me as if I was crazy. “Mist, what happened?”

“I tried an elixir, one with a permanent effect.” I answered.

“You did?! Did it work?” He asked now looking more closely at me and then he noticed the book on the floor.

“It looks like it did. I haven’t died.” I said with a grin, but Joram just gave me an unamused look.

He picked up Azar’s book and looked at the recipe. “Oh. Well it’s useful at least, if you plan on putting yourself in danger.”

“I don’t plan on jumping into danger if I can help it, but with my luck it’s better to be prepared.” I said as I started cleaning up and putting everything back in its proper place, Joram helped me.

“You were in the house?” I asked him.

“Well I shouted and knocked on the door a couple of times, when I saw you through the window I rushed in. Damn it Mist don’t scare me like that.” He said shaking his head.

“No I mean you were in here while I was gone. You kept the house clean.” I clarified.

“Oh… Well I was in the garden once and rain caught me so I took cover inside. After that I thought I’d clean it from time to time.” Joram said sadly, his head hung low.

“Joram don’t worry about it. I told you that you can stay for as long as you want. Think of this place as a second home.” I insisted, Joram nodded weakly and gave me a grateful smile.

“But I don’t understand what you need with recopies for antidotes and purgatives? I know you have a copy of the recopies and are fully capable of making them.” I asked and he shifted his hooves uncomfortably.

“Well I was looking for something stronger.” He answered while looking at the jars he placed on the shelves.

“Stronger? Joram what do you need?” I asked moving closer to him, he still pretended to be inspecting the jars.

He glanced my way and when he realized that I wasn’t going to back down without an answer he sighed.

“A stallion got hurt… well poisoned… kind of. I tried the usual antitoxins and purgatives but they barely helped.” He answered while pacing away from the shelves.

There was more to this. If it’s as simple as he says then why hide it from me? I could help. Unless this was the thing he wanted my help with from yesterday, but then why hesitate now?

“Maybe adding leaves from the Daoba plant would help. It’s been known to amplify effects of some potions.” I offered.

“Where… I know of the plant, but I thought you just chewed it to prevent catching a cold?” He asked cocking his head.

“Zaeryl told me about it. She added it once by accident and it improved the potion.” I said remembering the story Zaeryl told me. She was actually chewing on it and a small part fell from her mouth and landed in the potion by accident.

Joram nodded. “Alright.” He smiled. “Thanks I’ll try it.”

“We can do it right here, then I can go with you to see if it helps.” I said. Joram looked ready to argue, but he just nodded defeated.

The potion was easy to make and soon we made our way to Navarost. Yesterday when we went to visit Zaeryl most of the villagers had gone inside their homes. Now they were still working and my appearance drew a lot of attention. The welcome wasn’t what I had expected.

Both young and old flocked around Joram and me. I was greeted with smiles and respectful bows. It overwhelmed me and made me feel very unworthy. How can they be so welcoming when I had abandoned them?

To add to my distressed I learned from one mare how Joram worked hard to make sure all were taken care of in my absence. Everything was not as peaceful as Joram made it out to be. Aside from those few that died in the jungle it could have been far worse. At one point many had gotten ill and Joram was left to deal with the sick alone, aside from some help from those who were healthy.

If I had been here I could have helped him.

With coaxing from their parents, the foals gave us some room and we were able to reach the house with the poisoned zebra.

A frightened mare answered the door when we knocked and let us in. She kept thanking the spirits and Joram for bringing me, and all the time I couldn’t help but grind my teeth. I could have made a real difference if I had stayed. If this zebra dies it will be my fault. If I was here I could have made a stronger antidote, now it may be too late.

The stallion in question was covered up to his neck and laying in a bed, he shook feverishly.

I levitated the antidote Joram and I made and started for the zebra when Joram stepped in front of me and blocked my path.

I was about to ask him when he cut me off. “Mist.” He said and then cast an uncertain glance at the sick zebra before turning back to me. “He isn’t poisoned… it’s the taint.” He finished somberly.

“Taint?’ I asked and it took a moment for my mind to comprehend what he was saying. “What?” I asked sharply. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I… I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought after… I mean the way Zaeryl…” Joram stammered and finally sighed.

He didn’t need to finish I knew what he was trying to do. He was worried about opening old wounds. Looking at the zebra shivering on the bed did pain me. I got to look at someone suffering just as Zaeryl did.

The same hopelessness from the time I learned about Zaeryl’s condition washed over me again. I pushed my grief aside and tried to focus on the zebra that needed help now!

“Joram.” I called out to the zebra quietly. “You know that this won’t cure him.” I said and lifted the vial of antidote we had prepared.

He nodded. ”I know, but it might help.” Joram said, looking at the sick zebra.

It certainly couldn’t make things worse. I lifted the vial and approached the zebra and that’s when the smell of rotting flesh filled my nose.

Joram and I coaxed the zebra into drinking the antidote and then I gently pulled away the covers and nearly gagged.

His entire right hoof along with part of his chest looked flayed. The flesh was covered in sores and bleeding scabs that to my horror I had peeled away when I removed the cover. Most of the afflicted area was grey-black, rotting.

“Did you try giving him the potion that Zaeryl took?” I asked Joram, he nodded.

“Yes. It helped a little, butt… I don’t understand it.” Joram admitted. “Zaeryl took it at least for a couple of years and it helped her. So why isn’t it working for him?”

“How did he get exposed to it?” I asked gently pulling the covers back over the sick zebra.

“H-He was in the jungle.” The mare that had let us in stepped inside to room shyly. “He was with a couple of friends and they said they had found something. In a cave. H-He got wounded a-and the wound just wouldn’t heal.” The mare stammered.

“The hunting party?” Joram asked to which the mare absently nodded, her gaze fixed on her dying husband.

“Where are they? I need to talk with them.” There could be some necromantic artifact left there, or the Remnant could be testing a weapon.

“They’re dead.” Joram said and then turned to the mare. “I didn’t know he was part of their hunting party.”

“A-After he got wounded the others went back. W-We didn’t know. I didn’t know.” She finished quietly looking at her hooves. I saw tears hit the floor. “Please save him.” She begged looking right at me.

Please don’t ask that of me. What was I supposed to say to her? Her husband was going to die; there was nothing I could do. Joram thankfully stepped in seeing my discomfort.

“We’ll do what we can.” He told the distraught mare and gently guided her out of the room.

Before she left the room she turned once more to me, her eyes red and puffy. “I know it’s our behavior that drove you away, but thank you for coming back. You can save him, the spirits surely sent you.”

All I could do is nod and try to not burst into tears myself while my insides felt like they were being torn up.

Joram led the distraught mare out and for the moment I was left alone with the dying zebra.

“What happened to you?” I asked looking over his shivering form, not expecting an answer. “What did you find?”

“Mist.” Joram called after a moment. “You know there is no way to save him.” I nodded. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Not even Zaeryl could help him.”

“I know.” Still doesn’t make me feel any better.

“What should we do?” Joram asked.

I sighed. “We should try and make him as comfortable as possible.” It’s the least we can do.

“You don’t think we could… you know, cut it off?” Joram asked and winced when he looked at the zebra.

His entire right hoof and part of his chest? “He wouldn’t survive it.” I said quietly, Joram just nodded. “Keep giving him the potion Zaeryl was taking. I’ll make him something for the pain.”

“I still don’t understand how Zaeryl managed to hold on for so long? Is this some stronger form of necromancy?” Joram asked, obviously irritated. It was bothering him as much as me. We were supposed to help these villagers, but we were useless now.

I rubbed the side of my head with a hoof. “I don’t know, maybe. It could be because he got wounded or… I don’t know.”

I set at a determined pace towards home, Joram did the same. I kept sifting through the recopies I knew in my head, trying to come up with something that might help and all the while in the back of my head I wondered what exactly happened.

It’s been two days now since Joram and I started caring for the tainted zebra. The wife keeps praising us both for helping her husband. All we were really able to do is numb the pain, giving the poor soul at least a few hours of actual rest. The mare thinks he’s getting better. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry… I did both in the privacy of my own home.

Right now I just finished brewing another bottle of a pain suppressor. Too much of it is dangerous because it can form a sort of addiction and cause a number of health risks. Joram and I both agreed that in this case it didn’t matter much anyway. I just don’t know what we’re going to tell the mare when he dies.

I packed the potion along with some other healing potions and salves into smaller saddle bags made specifically for carrying and gathering medicine.

My gear, two sets of armor, guns and saddlebags I left in Zaeryl’s room. How I wish that this was a problem that guns could fix.

Foals and some of the villagers still waved at me when I walked by, they didn’t know. I envied them as I waved back, pretending that everything was alright.

The tainted zebra wasn’t the only one hurt. Villagers out hunting often return with gashes and numerous other wounds they get while hunting. Even foals while playing sometimes venture too far and get hurt. I helped them all and they were grateful, often inviting me to their homes and offering me their hospitality. From some I heard how Zaeryl helped them the same way I do now. The praise made me feel both proud and shamed because there was a dying zebra that couldn’t be saved.

“How is he?” I asked Joram as I walked over to his side.

“He’s sleeping. Really sleeping, not just that fever induced unconsciousness.” Joram said stepping away from the bed.

I levitated out the bottle I’d prepared earlier and set it down on a table beside the bed. The stallion did look better, but so did Zaeryl near the end.

“Why are we doing this?”I asked. “Keeping him alive? Wouldn’t it be kinder to…”

“It would, but while he’s alive his wife has hope.” Joram answered before I could finish.

“But it’s a false hope.” We’re delaying the inevitable and the zebra would be suffering constantly if it wasn’t for the potions we keep giving him.

Joram nodded and sighed. “Yes, but she will grieve later anyway. We should let her hang on to hope for as long as we can.”

I nodded, I could understand that. If it was Zaeryl laying here I would have wanted to believe that she’d get better.

“Don’t… let them…”

“Who?” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Did you say something?” I asked quickly approaching the zebra. I dozed off on a chair while we waited for some sign from the tainted zebra. “Joram?” I asked looking around. He wasn’t in the room.

“Don’t let them… No…” The zebra muttered from the bed with his eyes still closed shut. I couldn’t tell whether he was dreaming or just too weak to open his eyes.

“Don’t let who?” I asked getting closer. The stench of rot was heavy but I pushed it from my mind.

“No… treasure. Only… death. Don’t let them…go.” The zebra managed before going still, he was still breathing.

“Mist? What’s wrong?” Joram asked as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“He said something.” I said getting his full attention and repeated what I’ve just heard.

“Who’s them, the others in his hunting party?” Joram asked.

“His wife said something about a cave. They must have thought that there was something valuable in it.” I mused.

“And when he got hurt the rest went back… and none of them returned.” Joram finished in a low voice.

Later we talked with the wife and Joram was right. After her husband got hurt his friends brought him back home unconscious. The wounds didn’t look bad at first, but then he just kept getting worse.

Joram got upset that she didn’t come to him right away and I had to calm him down. There was no reason blame her when the taint was concerned, he would die no matter how soon he got help. Also the last thing I wanted was for the mare to blame herself.

The mare explained that she had dressed the wound and didn’t want to bother Joram since he was dealing with a lot at the moment; she thought she would just let her husband rest. That is until a day later she got worried when he didn’t wake up and she noticed the smell. By then she was so panicked that she had done something wrong she refused to leave her husband’s side. Eventually she did turn to Joram for help.

“Joram there was nothing you could have done even if she had told you the moment he got back.” I told the still upset stallion.

“I know, but I just can’t help but feel that it might have gone better. That I could have done something more.” He said as he scraped the ground with a hoof. “I’m sorry I shouted like that. The mare didn’t deserve it, and neither did you.” He said looking away.

“It’s alright.” Really there was no need to apologize; I knew exactly how he feels right now. I looked at him and winced in sympathy at how haggard he looked. “Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll check in again in a few hours.” It’s not like I have anything else to do right now, and Joram has a store to run.

He looked like he wanted to argue but instead a yawn sneaked up on him. He admitted that he needed rest and we parted ways for the time being.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. There was some minor food poisoning I helped out with and when I went back to see if the zebra had said anything new, I found him fast asleep. Looking at his wounds it was hard to tell if there was any change at all. Placing a hoof gently on the zebras neck I could feel his heartbeat, it was getting weaker.

I stayed for a few hours longer, waiting for any sign but nothing changed. While I sat there I couldn’t help but think if Zaeryl went through the exact same thing. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired and my mind started wondering to things I didn’t want to think about. The hardest part about leaving that house was looking into the eyes of a worried and scared wife, and pretending that everything was going to be alright.

The next day started off pretty normally. I had noticed that I fell into a routine. Wake up, have breakfast, make new potions if I needed to and go out to Navarost.

Walking through the jungle on the well known path to the village I really felt a sense of content. I miss my friends very much and I started thinking about going to Vostoris in a few days to see them again, Amber too. A smile found its way to my lips.

I liked that idea, I liked it a lot. It’s normal, something everyone does. I could remain here, help the villagers and every once in a while I could go to Vostoris and see my friends. Maybe I could even convince Amber to come visit me here?

I stopped by Joram’s shop and knocked on his door a few times, I waited but there was no answer. The sound of hooves drumming on the ground caught my attention and I turned to see a small filly charging right at me.

For a moment I got worried that she was going to run right into me, but she pulled all of her hooves close and skidded to on her rump. I was about to ask her what was wrong but she quickly hopped up.

“MisterJoramtoldmetotellyouthat…”

“Hold on.” I motioned with a hoof and smiled a little at her antics. She went quiet immediately, perfectly still except for her rapid breathing. “Take a deep breath and tell me again, slowly this time.”

The filly listened and calmed down a bit before flashing a bright smile. “Mister Joram told me to tell you that he’s already helping a sick zebra. He told me to tell you to go to him at his home.”

I gave her a little pat on the head and thanked her. The filly just smiled and then she went racing off again.

I didn’t want to waste any time, something must have happened to the stallion. Swiftly I moved to the house. Something had happened; the front door was opened slightly.

As I approached I heard the sound that at once painted a clear picture in my head of what had happened, a mare was crying.

I nudged my way in and closed the door behind me. The only sounds that could be heard were those of my hoofsteps and the grief-stricken sobs.

I could feel my throat tightening as the pounding in my heart intensified. I entered the room and froze. There on the bed the mare was sobbing while holding the limp form of her dead partner.

The room seemed to dissolve around me, colors faded to gray and I was now sitting on the ground. Before me a great tree loomed, twisted black branches reaching up to the sky. Down by its roots I was clutching Zaeryl’s lifeless body.

A part of me knew this wasn’t real, how could it? I was sitting farther away from the tree and another me was there howling in pain. But I could feel it too, I relived every moment of anguish from that day yet I couldn’t ignore another feeling that threatened to overwhelm me.

Why? She was good, she was a good mare and she died. It’s not right! I don’t care if she did bad things when she was part of the Remnant, she tried to atone. Why did she have to die? And why after I got to know her, to care for her?!

My body felt numb, but in my mind hundreds of images swirled.

Charon, Santir and countless others are out there, alive and it’s the good that die? How can that be alright?! How is that fair?!

“Mist?” A voice called out to me and my eyes started burning.

I rubbed my eyes and then I realized that I had been crying. Blinking a few times, as if waking up, I looked around and saw Joram looking at me concerned.

We were still in the home of the stallion who got tainted. His wife had buried her muzzle into his mane and was sobbing more quietly now.

“Are you alright?” Joram asked gently.

I nodded rubbing away the last of my tears. I really did feel like I had just woken up. The memory of what happened was already fading from my mind; all I could recall now was Zaeryl and a deep feeling of loss that I seemed to always carry with me.

Joram and I waited patiently for the mare to finish grieving before we approached, I needed time too. I felt exhausted and my body was shaking slightly.

When the mare had calmed down, she told us that she would like the body cremated. Joram had offered to arrange everything. I was immensely grateful to him for that.

The ceremony was a quiet affair, just out on the edges of the village. Aside from Joram and me a few other zebras who had known the stallion were also present.

I was really starting to hate the smell of burnt flesh. It took every bit of my willpower to try and not think about the times I saw ponies and zebras burning.

At the end the mare thanked me. I didn’t deserve it. She was happy that at least her husband hadn’t suffered and that I gave her more time with him, however little that might have been.

I know that after a certain incident I promised to never get drunk again, but Joram offered after the ceremony and I accepted. I needed something to dull the pain. I was beginning to understand why Saw constantly had a bottle with her.

“Mmmghhh…” I groaned as I stretched. My head was pounding and my mouth tasted awful. It tasted of dirt and alcohol.

Thankfully I woke up in my own bed, home and alone. Somehow I managed to stumble downstairs without breaking my neck and the first thing I did was go outside. The Sun’s rays stabbed at my eyes, but I found my way to the stream and promptly stuck my head into the cold water.

Immediately my heart started thundering in my chest and my head got clearer, then I proceeded to drink as much as I could. I took a bath while I was at it.

When I was done I sat down on beside the stream and just waited for my coat to dry rather than try and shake the water off. Honestly sitting here, listening to the sound of rushing water and the birds made me feel at peace. It was a balm on my soul which healed the wounds received yesterday.

I didn’t go to Navarost; rather I spent the day in solitude.

Things calmed down and I fell into routine again. Joram and I worked at helping out villagers when they needed it. A trade caravan passed through Navarost and it gave me a chance to trade some potions for more exotic ingredients. I enjoyed the peace that settled over my life.

Of course it couldn’t last.

Three days after the death of the tainted zebra and the pyre, I was helping Joram sort the new items he bought from the traders when a zebra stallion rushed into the shop and called for me.

“Shaman!” The zebra called while running to me. He inclined his head when he stood before me. All I did was pray that this wasn’t going to end the same way when that filly came to me.

“Shooting, in the jungle.” The zebra said with a look of utter fear on his face.

“What happened?” Joram asked coming to stand beside me.

“I went into the jungle to hunt birds. Their feathers can fetch a good price…” The zebra started explaining then shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I was in the jungle when I heard shouting. At first I thought it was some of our own hunters, but then I caught a glimpse of one of them. They wore cloaks like you do and the same armor. The Remnant are here!”

“What? Are you sure?” Joram asked looking a bit pale.

The stallion nodded vigorously. “Certain.”

“How far into the jungle?” I asked. Why would they be coming here? They never bothered Navarost before.

“Not far. That’s why I came to tell you. I’ve never seen them this close and they are firing at something or someone.” The zebra said quickly.

“Could they be after the Separatists? Maybe some found their way into the jungle?” Joram offered.

“Maybe.” I said already going for the door. I need to get my things right now!

“Mist?” Joram asked starting after me.

“No, stay here. I’m going to get my armor and then I’m going to go see what this is about. It could have nothing to do with Navarost at all.

“Shaman, I can gather the hunters and we could go with you.” The stallion offered.

“Gather them then, but you won’t be going with me.” I said and both the zebra and Joram looked ready to argue. “I have a stealth cloak, they won’t see me. Bringing a small army with me will only draw attention.” I explained. “I’ll go and see what this is about and if they are planning to attack I’ll come right back here and we can prepare.”

Joram still didn’t look happy, but he knew that I was right. One invisible pony can move faster alone and has less chance of being seen than a dozen or so armed zebra.

I quickly made my way back home to get my things. Both sets of armor were neatly bundled up and since I planned on being stealthy I put on my Remnant armor that Joram repaired. It also might help me fool them, it has worked before.

My pistol, rifle and sniper were all ready. I packed the potions into my saddle bags and arranged a few of them into the pockets of my armor.

This could be very bad. The Remnant were here.

Once I was ready I galloped back to Navarost and from there, following the directions the stallion who saw the Remnant I turned east into the jungle.

Swiftly I tapped the gem at my neck and activated the cloak. I had to slow down and pay attention on what I was trotting over, so as to avoid making too much noise and overall brushing up against the bushes. I need to remain hidden.

My heart beat like crazy in my chest and it wasn’t from exertion, it was fear. If the Remnant came in force and Navarost turned out to be their target… fighting might not be an option.

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Bone-Strengthening Brew – An elixir crafted from zebra alchemy has permanently altered your body. Damage to your limbs and skeleton in general is reduced by 50%, additionally bone regeneration has been increased. Broken or damaged bone is able to fully mend in a matter of days, imbibing healing potions or receiving proper medical attention additionally speed up the regenerative process.

(Note: Bone-Strengthening Brew and the cybernetic implant perk Adamantium Bone Lacing are mutually exclusive. Only one Elixir can be taken per level.)

(Thank you Kkat for making such an awesome story and world in which other ponies like myself can play and let loose our imagination. Somber deserves thanks as well. For proving that side-stories can be just as amazing and unforgettable as the original. Special thanks to A racist zebra and NeverKnown for helping me edit and sort out the convoluted mess I've made out of Mist's story. Thanks also go to DamnfoolBrony for working his magic and helping me set up the perks. Oh and very special thanks to Lauren Faust!)