The hunger was a living thing that writhed through his insides like wriggling serpents. Tarnish almost couldn’t bear how hungry he was. Maud had carried him back to camp and now, Cranberry worked at a frantic pace to fix food. Having drank the tea earlier, her magic had stabilised a bit in this area. Her horn still sparked, but she could use her telekinesis for simple tasks without too much effort.

His whole body trembled and ached. This one had been pretty bad, all things considered. It was like having a case of violent body wracking sneezes while also having explosive diarrhea at the same time. Everything was cramped and his muscles sang a song of agony.

As he sat there, feeling as though he was dying, certain that at any moment, his insides would implode and all that would be left of him were a few chocolate brown hairs, he thought about the blue orb in his saddlebag. It was like wanting water or food. He needed it. Just thinking about it made his brain ache with need.

What little telekinesis he could muster was weak, feeble, but he managed. He opened the flap to his bag, reached inside, and wrapped his telekinesis around the blue orb. Right away, the pain lessened, it eased off, and Tarnish could feel a strange tugging on his horn. He was far too weak to resist and the tugging sensation became an irresistible pull.

As he had done just before the surge, Tarnish decided to just go with it…

Blinking, he found himself in a different place. Fluffy clouds were both beneath him and above him. There appeared to be stars in the clouds, glowing motes of light that twinkled. There was no pain, no ache, no feeling of overwhelming hunger. In the distance, there was a bright glowing orb that looked an awful lot like the sun. Beside it, there was a large glowing sunflower that he was certain he had seen before, but could not place, not in his current state of confusion.

And right away, he noticed the big blue centaur, who stood a short distance away, looking back at him. He was translucent and had a glowing blue aura. There was a patient, kind smile upon the centaur’s face. Tarnish looked up at him and it took a moment to find his voice.

“Maledico… where am I?”

“Call me Mal, little friend,” the centaur replied. “As for your location, this is the astral realm. Do not be afraid. Many come here when they leave their body. Like Celestia over there. She has anchored her very soul to this place for safekeeping.” The centaur pointed over at the glowing sun that Tarnish had seen. “She is currently out and about, no doubt running errands. I have learned and observed much since my awakening.”

“Why am I here?” Tarnish asked.

“I thought I would spare you some pain,” Mal replied. “Such is the way of the druids. Our magic cannot always be controlled and there are often consequences. Power comes at a price. And you, little pony, have power.”

“The consequences are a real pain in my ass.” Tarnish prodded the clouds he stood on, worried that he might fall through them. He didn’t know what was below him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. They seemed solid enough, but he had no way of knowing for certain just how real they were. He decided it was best not to think about it.

“You speak of consequences but make no mention about having druidic powers.” The centaur centered his piercing gaze upon Tarnish. “I take it that you’ve come to accept them since our last conversation?”

“I don’t know what I accept.” Tarnish angled his head upwards. “It’s just there. They just happen. I don’t know what to make of them. To me, magic is just magic. I feel lucky if I can do anything at all. Most of the time, I just feel stunted and inadequate.”

Mal scowled and shook his head. He reached up and began to rub his chin. “You should not be so dismissive of your own powers. Stunted you are not. You were meant for other things, different things. Not necessarily greater things, just different.”

Tarnish did not respond. He stood there, staring up at the centaur, marvelling at the creature’s size. Tall, heavily muscled, black with blue skin, and moose antlers. He saw the centaur take a deep breath and he waited for Mal to continue speaking.

“There has been an awakening, and it isn’t my own. Nature it seems has decided that it is time to restore the druidic order, dedicated defenders of the world. You will be the first of a new order. I have been communing with spirits in this place. I will aid you when I can, but there is much you must figure out on your own. You have two tasks that you must perform before you prove yourself worthy.”

“And those are?” Tarnish asked.

“An act of epic destruction and an act of beautiful creation. These two forces balance each other out and you must strive to maintain the balance.” Mal blinked and his body glowed brighter for a moment. The soothing blue luminescence was pleasant and calming. “You must be courageous and steadfast, little pony.”

“I’ll do my best,” Tarnish replied in a noncommittal tone. “If I am going to be left to flounder through this on my own, don’t expect me to go out of my way to get everything figured out. I have my own crap to sort through, I am a very busy pony.”

The centaur chuckled and stood akimbo, his hands resting on his waist, where his torso connected to his horse half. The chuckle became laughter, and his eyes were bright and merry. His tail flicked around his haunches, as if he was swatting away invisible flies.

“Tarnish…”

“Yes?”

“Wake up…”

Blinking his eyes, Tarnish found a cup of broth being held up in front of his muzzle. He sniffed. Vegetable bouillon. He snatched it in his own telekinesis and took it all down in a few greedy gulps. It was hot, but not too hot. There was other food set out for him and he began to gobble that down. Somepony had opened a couple of cans of chili and had baked some cornbread in a cast iron skillet.

As he wolfed down his food, he saw Maud staring at him, an impossible to read stare. Considering what had just happened, he chalked it up to worry, which seemed reasonable enough. Cranberry was sitting beside the fire, looking worried.

The sky had cleared up. Tarnish could not remember the sky clearing. When had that happened? He didn’t know. He crammed a huge bite of cornbread into his mouth, smacked his lips, and began chewing. When it was half chewed, he swallowed, straining to get it down, but he needed something in his stomach right now.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Cranberry said in a small voice.

“Most ponies haven’t,” Maud replied.

“So he just randomly causes poison joke to begin sprouting?” As Cranberry spoke, she watched Tarnish gobble down a bowl of chili.

“Sometimes.” Maud blinked and focused her attention on Cranberry. “He reacts to pockets of bad magic. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but poison joke isn’t bad. It purifies the environment from unstable, dangerous magic. And so does Tarnish.”

“Oh.” Cranberry looked surprised.

“But, when there is no dangerous magic around, Tarnish creates a field of instability unless he drinks his tea to suppress his talent.” Maud turned and looked at her husband as he crammed more cornbread into his mouth.

Cranberry looked confused for a moment, then her eyes brightened with awareness. “That makes sense, in a weird way. It’s a magical cancellation effect. It’s like noise cancellation… you’ll hear an annoying hum or thrumming sound from a tuning fork that might make your ears hurt, but when another tuning fork with the right sound frequency is struck, you can’t hear anything at all and the annoying sound goes away.”

“Yeah.” Maud nodded. “Something like that.”

“Ooooh, I get it now, it really does make sense.” Cranberry’s muzzle split into a wide grin. “I like it when all that time spent learning stuff pays off. And I kept getting told that I’d never be able to use the stuff I learned in the real world.”

“Tarnish and I both are utterly immune to bad magic. We were there when Mount Maud erupted—”

“Oh my goodness… you are that Maud!” Cranberry’s mouth dropped open. “I am such a ditz sometimes… such a ditz… merciful stars!” The dark red mare sat there with her mouth agape, staring at Maud, and her left ear twitched up and down.

“—and we survived a level of magical radiation that should have been instantly fatal.” Maud blinked a few times and then shook her head. “Tarnish left behind a trail of poison joke in the blasted landscape that is no doubt trying to heal the land.”

“That area is a real mess right now. Lots of ash and quarantine signs. Stuff dies when it goes in there.” Cranberry’s left ear stood up and was joined by her right ear. “Lots of strange growths, crystalline stuff, and I’ve heard reports of new types of monsters showing up, like ash devils.”

“Ash devils?” Maud asked.

“Ever seen a dust devil? Well, these are the same thing, but made of ash and bad magic. If they catch a pony, they’ll suck the life out of it. You need powerful magic to put them down. Malevolent wind spirits. They leave behind dried out husks with no moisture. They’re awful.” Cranberry shuddered, her ears drooped, and she shuddered again. “I encountered a dust devil once… I was able to shoot it with my bow. The magical arrows disrupted it and then I was able to dispel its magic once it was weakened. It was a tough, tough fight, one of the toughest I’ve ever had, and from what I’ve heard, ash devils are even worse. They’re really gritty and can sandblast the skin right off of you.”

“I’ve encountered dust devils. I had to run away. I couldn’t do anything to hurt them.” Maud swiveled her head over and looked at Tarnish. “I wonder if Tarnish could find a way to take one out. He has a knack for overcoming and adapting.”

“That magic sword of his might be able cut one,” Cranberry said, offering helpful advice. “If they’re just pockets of bad magic, maybe his magic might counteract them. I don’t know, but it would be best to be careful.”

Lifting his head, Tarnish managed to say something around his mouthful of food. “We’re adventurers. We’ll find a way.” He sucked up a chili bean that was clinging to his lip with a slurp and continued eating, shoveling in more chili with his spoon.

“Yeah,” Cranberry replied in a chirpy voice, “never give up, never give in!”

“I just want to study rocks, but things keep trying to kill me.” Maud shook her head and blinked a few times. “Is it so much to ask that I get to study rocks in peace? Sometimes, I think Tarnish enjoys the adventuring aspect our lives a little too much.”

“Oh come on,” Tarnish said, splattering rich, red chili sauce all over the place as he spoke, “admit it, you had fun in the spider cave rescuing Grey Owl.”

There was a long moment of silence before Maud replied, “I did. It was disgusting, but I will confess that I enjoyed myself.” There was a long pause and then Maud added, “And rescuing Trixie from the diamond dogs was kind of fun as well. Poor Limestone didn’t have a good time though. I have mixed feelings about this issue.”

“There is no feeling greater than saving another pony. Or any other creature in distress.” Cranberry’s grin almost became manic. “I’ve saved little fillies, little colts, damsels in distress, fellas in distress, the only thing I haven’t checked off my list is saving a princess, but here’s to hoping.” Her grin vanished. “Now that I think about it, most folk are grateful for a rescue, but as I sit here thinking about it, some of the fellas I rescued took exception… they were a bit upset about being rescued by a mare. They were a bit rude.”

“Maud saved me, there’s no shame in it.” Tarnish wiped his mouth with his foreleg and then gave a forlorn glance down into the empty pot. The cornbread was gone too. He belched with enough force that it caused the fire to flicker, and Cranberry began giggling like a filly.

“And I think you saved me too… thanks for the food!”

Author's Notes:

I am really happy that folks like Cranberry, because she'll be showing up in other work. Keep an eye out for her.