The wagons were now too far away to be heard. They were gone, having taken away their gaiety, their vibrant colours, and the eccentric characters who lived within them. Maud felt a pang of regret over their leaving, but she understood. Yes, she understood, perhaps all too well. Ponies were skittish or outright afraid of things they didn’t understand, and Maud was one of those things that sometimes, ponies didn’t understand. Having Tarnish around helped—sometimes—except for moments like now, when it didn’t.

The orb was gone, put away once more, and Maud felt a growing sense of concern. During the encounter, Tarnish almost seemed like a different pony… or perhaps a different creature. She watched as he moved about the camp, picking up bits of litter and debris, grumbling to himself about the mess left behind. The gypsies had panicked and left in a hurry. Most of the time, when they departed from a camp, they left it clean, sometimes they even left stacked firewood for future travelers. But they had gone off in a rush.

“Well,” Tarnish said in a huff, “at least we are alone together.”

Yes, Maud replied in silent internal dialogue. Alone. Together. Just me, you, and that orb. With slow movement, her head turned off to one side and she looked over at Tarnish’s saddlebags, which sat next to a crackling fire. After a moment of internal debate, she decided to wait this one out. She could be patient and this was not a time for drastic action. The orb might be important. It might be vital to some greater purpose.

Or, it could be bad. It might be really bad. But Maud decided to play it safe. There was no need to be hasty and rush to judgment. Tarnish had just saved a group of ponies from timber wolves. But on the other hoof, Tarnish had used strange magic to do it. She was almost certain that what she had witnessed was not unicorn magic. But what did she know? She was no unicorn and no magic expert, so she kept her uninformed opinions and concerns to herself—for now.

She was pleased to see Tarnish cleaning up the litter. It was nice of him to care about the environment. Off in the distance, frogs croaked and the crickets began to play their nightly song. Fireflies flickered on and off in the night. Overhead, the sky was overcast with feral clouds, blocking out the stars, making the dark night darker. Maud suspected there might be rain before morning.

Tarnish went over and stood by the fire, looking a bit morose and put off. Maud understood why, and she worried if her husband might slip into one of his self pitying funks that sometimes overtook him.

“Maud, there are some salt licks over here for you,” Tarnish said in what could only be described as a resigned voice. “I’m going to study. I have a chapter about poison antidotes that I am having trouble understanding.”

“Salt licks?” Maud felt a faint quiver in her belly muscles, a visceral response that almost made her dock twitch. There were a few things that Maud loved; hugging her sisters, being buried under blankets with her husband, and salt licks. But not the sweet ones. But Tarnish would know that, yes he would, and he would get the right ones. She moved, not with her usual glacial pace, but with swift steps, and she found herself sniffing, wondering what sort of treats had been procured for her.

As she approached the fire, she heard the creak of wood, the sound made her pelt stand up along her spine. She turned about and watched as one lone timber wolf paced back and forth nearby, its eyes glowing blue, and it seemed to be watching Tarnish. She thought they had all left, but she was mistaken.

“Tarnish, you have an admirer,” Maud said in a voice that, to her ears at least, was filled with worry. She looked at her husband and saw that he was holding a book as he looked over to where the wolf was.

This wolf was smaller than the others, Maud hesitated to call it a puppy, it was a dangerous creature no matter what size it was, but it was about half sized. She wondered if timber wolves grew or if this one had just turned out small. Poison joke grew within it, it grew without soil, and Maud was curious how it managed such a feat. If she was to venture a guess, she figured that the poison joke was feeding off of the magic that animated the wolf.

Perhaps Tarnish might know more… or maybe the orb might reveal the answer.

It bothered Maud that the orb seemed needed. It had answers, no doubt. It was a powerful artifact, full of mystery, which made it all the more worrisome. Somepony had to peep into the orb to discern its secrets, and the pony most qualified seemed to be Tarnish.

Pursing his lips, Tarnish let out a whistle, and the timber wolf came loping over. It was a misshapen thing, made of sticks, sheets of bark, moss, leaves, pine needles, and a few skinny logs. It behaved very much like a dog as it came over, sat down near Tarnish, and then Maud saw that the strange creature began to wag its tail.

“They were guardians,” Tarnish said to Maud as he studied the small creature made of sticks. “They were created by powerful floramancy. Not just mere animations, but they were given life… a means to reproduce.”

Something about Tarnish’s voice seemed off and Maud’s ears perked as she listened.

“They were attracted to strong, chaotic magic… like ley line intersections. They kept ponies and others away so they would not come to harm. They also kept the dangerous predators that frequented ley line intersections in check.”

As Maud listened, she realised that Tarnish sounded sad. She wondered about the source of the emotion. What had he seen peering into the orb? What did he know? What great secrets had been revealed, and what future secrets awaited revelation?

“When the source of magic was poisoned, the timber wolves natural inclination to seek out strong, dangerous, chaotic magic worked against them. They became infected. Their wood became rotten. They became a menace and a danger to those they once protected.”

As Tarnish spoke, the lone wolf lept away, it bounded around Tarnish, acting very much like a playful puppy. It was disconcerting to see something so dangerous playing, and Maud could not help herself, she felt more than a little creeped out.

“I do not know if they will be able to restore others. The festering rot might reclaim them, or it might not. Only time will tell. Perhaps nature will be able to restore itself, or perhaps it will need a little assistance.”

“Tarnish… how do you know this?” Maud asked. It was a question that needed to happen. Perhaps if she could get her husband to recognise that something seemed off, he might acknowledge the danger of what he was doing.

“I have seen memories, Maud… it’s like reading a book… or watching a movie. That’s what the orb is, Maud. It’s a movie… and it spans the entire life of a centaur who lived for thousands and thousands of years. I can’t seem to control what plays… its all random.”

A movie? That almost seemed useful. A lot of useful information and learning could be gleaned from a movie. But even poisonous berries sometimes had inviting colours that were pleasing to the eye. She sat down, settling her backside into the cool, somewhat damp grass, and she felt the balmy, humid wind blow against her pelt. Yep, it felt like rain might happen.

“Their magic was different Maud… it’s different, but I find myself understanding it, just a little tiny bit. The magic I’ve seen in the orb… it isn’t casted or focused so much as it is directed. It’s like trying to direct a flowing river… it isn’t something you control, it’s too powerful and dangerous, but you can channel it. It’s not like unicorn magic at all. I tapped into something, Maud, and it felt good. I channeled something powerful and dangerous, like a river, when I did whatever it was that I did with the timber wolves. I don’t even understand it. It’s beyond my limited understanding of what magic is.”

That sounded intriguing. Maud did what she did best. She sat there and listened.

“I have trouble casting the simplest of unicorn spells. They just fizzle and it is so frustrating. I can work up a little magic, but it takes so much work and effort for me to perform the easiest of spells. But whatever it was I called up earlier… I’ve never felt power like that before. It sorta scared me just a little bit. Maud… for a moment, I was aware of everything around me. I was connected to it all. I was keenly aware of every blade of grass, every tree, every bug, I could sense the worms down in the dirt, I could feel the connection that everything had to everything else, and then the magic flowed, and it was unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

“Maybe your magic flows from a different source,” Maud said as she took in everything being said and tried to make sense of it. “Maybe you still have some basic connection to unicorn magic, but it is stunted and weak because you were never meant to use it beyond basic applications. Perhaps you were intended for something else. The evidence we’ve witnessed so far makes it seem likely.”

“There is more than one type of magic, Maud. There is astral magic, harmony magic, dark magic, shadow magic, illusion magic, and there is… whatever this is. Tapping into it scared me… it can’t be controlled. It’s wild, primal, it is untamed. But it isn’t bad.”

“Thunderstorms are dangerous and unpredictable, but they are necessary.”

“Yeah.” Tarnish nodded.

The wolf, still frolicking, appeared to be trying to get Tarnish to play with it. It had a stick in its mouth and its tail was wagging from side to side. A strange, creaking growl could be heard. It would be adorable, if it wasn’t so scary. Maud found herself unnerved.

As she sat watching, Tarnish jerked the stick away and then hurled it with his magic, sending it flying. The timber wolf bolted and went to fetch the stick. Doing this seemed to cheer Tarnish up a bit and Maud saw something almost like a smile as the corners of his mouth turned upwards just a bit.

The wolf returned, holding the stick in its mouth. Tarnish had to engage in a tug of war to get the stick away this time, he had to yank, tug, and even drag the wolf around as it refused to let go. It growled, a savage sound, and Maud could feel little tingles of impending dread creeping up and down her spine.

Timber wolves killed ponies. They were part of a predatory ecosystem, just like stranglesnatch, needler cacti, and other plants that fertilised themselves with fresh blood. At least, that had been the understanding so far. Timber wolves didn’t put down roots so they could take an active role in chasing down their prey in the never ending hunt for nutrients and fertiliser. Timber wolves moved to where the food was, following herds of ponies, picking off the weak, behaving very much like flesh and blood predators.

Now, an entire understanding of arcane botany was in danger of outright collapse. Tarnish could prove them all wrong, if somehow the knowledge in the orb could be pulled out and displayed for others to study. It would turn the scientific community on its ear and would cause all manner of upset. There would be brawling in the lecture halls as some of the stodgier members of the academic community would no doubt fight to hold on to the old ways, even if they were wrong, because some ponies were stubborn and resisted change.

“Gimme that!” Tarnish shouted as he gave the stick a determined yank. He succeeded in pulling it away and held it over his head as the wolf made a disturbing whining sound that sounded like rotten timbers threatening to give way.

There was a flash of blue light and the wolf vanished. Maud actually heard a faint gasp slip out of her mouth, a sound so subtle that the crackle of the fire drowned it out and prevented Tarnish from hearing it.

“What’d I do?” Tarnish asked.

As a very startled Maud watched, Tarnish picked up a small, knotted ball made of roots and moss, then held it up in front of his face. She saw something blue flash in his eyes, some inner light, some disturbing, spine tingling arcane glow.

“You’re still in there,” Tarnish said in a voice filled with awe. “But I don’t know how to let you out again. It seems my teacher gave me some homework to study. I shall have to work to free you.”

Something about Tarnish’s words filled Maud with worry. No doubt, this meant more peeping into the orb.

Author's Notes:

Grrrr is adorable. And potentially deadly. Just what you want in a sapient chunk of dogwood.